How to write an election manifesto voters care about

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE WRITERS OF ELECTION MANIFESTOS (This was written a couple of weeks ago, as the Karnataka manifestos were being written. Given that we are nowadays always preparing for an election, I think it is still relevant so I am posting it here.) Since 2014 it seems we are hurtling from one election campaign, and the surge in the production of election manifestos has created proportionate debris of broken promises in our political landscape. Brutal news of sexual violence, distress suicides and disasters punctuate the calendar but we remain preoccupied with elections. While political parties make a hundred clichéd promises, what are people worrying about? What do they want? I have compiled a list which I trust will be useful. Violence is on everyone’s mind, given recent headlines. But people are not just thinking about sexual assault and child rape, they are also expressing concern over domestic violence, sexual harassment in public spaces including stalking and workplace sexual violence. Even marital rape, which the government considers integral to Indian culture, is discussed. There is concern about how deeply ingrained habits of violence have become and also concern about whether the police and judiciary are performing their duties adequately. Not just feminists, but everyone understands that the government of the day has an important hand in creating impunity for gender-based violence. The political class responds with protectionism (how to keep ‘our’ women safe, and politicians make statements that only explain why we have a problem); the promise of more money on schemes that have not been thought through (look at the Nirbhaya Fund) or the threat of severe punishment, regardless of the long-standing argument that it is not severity but certainty that is a deterrent. Appearing to act is what seems to matter. Violence expresses discrimination and that voters are able to make the link is evident from the parodies of the ‘Beti Bachao’ scheme that have appeared after the Kathua and Unnao cases. Discrimination is pervasive, sidelining or excluding people on the basis of caste, community and gender, among other criteria. Indian voters have always been able to tell when you court a community for their votes, though they might play along. The more important questions today have to do with the endless list of everyday challenges they face: water, power, pollution (Bengaluru lakes are a horrifying visual illustration), and also the consequences of a shoddy education, that leaves people with great hope but little useful competence. Manifestos promise numbers (so many schools or technical training centres) but people understand that it is the quality of what is delivered that will help them get ahead. Livelihoods are a critical concern for Indians, unrelated to official job figures. The government’s development vision has threatened traditional livelihoods for countless Indians. Compulsory land acquisition for industrial plants; resource extraction such as mining projects; or pollutants or industrial refuse destroying marine life have made survival a challenge for those who have hitherto been able to sustain themselves and their families. In some places, where women played vital roles in their sector (the processing of fish or cash crops, or marketing), new livelihood projects do not take this into account and end up side-lining them. The alienation of land is a survival and identity issue. For communities that live by the land, the land represents wealth and security that are always greater than the rupee-value compensation on offer. Decisions to acquire land must be taken in consultation and concert with those settled in an area, negotiating not just price but the project itself. Research tells us that those who are displaced once, even with a monetary settlement, end up being displaced over and over again, and they slip further into poverty with each displacement. With displacement, come a host of other challenges, including trafficking and sexual exploitation. As we settle into an era of permanent election campaigning, the people of India need to see that you are aware of this. Development cannot be the source of poverty and misery; if it is, it is obviously not development at all. There is also disquiet among those who are working in the new India’s new factories—the old-style ones that produce goods and the new-style ones that produce services. We are making deals with investors that trade off not just people’s land and traditional livelihood but also workers’ rights. The right to unionise, negotiate better work conditions and bargain for better wages is violated in most of the new industrial and export zones. While some of the new companies have offered young Indians a quick professional start and good wages, these come with challenges: infrastructure follows the companies so sometimes access roads are unlit and unsafe; odd hours do not come with safe commutes; the many security restrictions and work regulations create a stifling atmosphere for those at the bottom of the pyramid; and unionisation—or any political activity—is not encouraged. In the meanwhile, the old companies are still lagging behind in the old ways—wage discrimination, inadequate wages, work conditions including infrastructure like toilets and safety, for instance. Climate change and unsustainable practices are creating a new generation of challenges. So far, we have heard very few politicians take cognizance of these. Water shortages are immediate. We proactively ruin the environment and public health in the name of development. Drought has led to greater farm debt and farmer suicide, but the clamour is for a larger share of existing resources. We do not see election manifestos or speeches that reflect on a review of how we use or reuse water. Climate change is real—and with rising temperatures and uncertain monsoons we are living with it—but few politicians speak about the search for alternative energies or finding more sustainable practices. Those who do are seen as fringe voices or spoilers of the bonanza we are told is on its way. Furthermore, we hear very little in election manifestos on creating resilience. This is an area in which the social sector has done pioneering work that government can help scale across the country. We still hear politicians speak about disasters as punishment, even at a time when we recognise that vulnerability causes disasters, and not nature itself. What will your government do to reduce vulnerability—better development choices, for one—and create resilience—access to information technologies, for instance? We want to hear election manifestos reflect this changed thinking in the practitioner community. In fact, we want those who draft the manifestos to take this opportunity to reach out to civil society and learn. The ideological journeys of our economic and social policies are excluding more people everyday and shrinking our democratic space. In search of a theoretical maximum good, we lose sight both of the immediate harm done to communities and resources, as well as the fact that development is supposed to take place within an environment where human rights and democratic principles are adhered to. In this endless election season, we would like to hear a reaffirmation of this idea. We want to hear politicians tell us how committed they are to participatory planning and to co-written development visions that also promote our rights and participation. Nobody wants a divisive politics, because nobody’s life is improved by it. We want politicians to step into the breach of our disagreements and facilitate reconciliations. We want them to be strong and idealistic enough to view our differences as aberrations and take the risk of resolving conflict rather than benefiting from it in the short and intermediate term.    Enough already, of the formulaic election manifesto which starts with a vacuous and inexact vision statement and ends with a laundry list (so many scholarships, so many bicycles, so many new women constables)! We want you to use these once-irrelevant documents to tell us how you see the world, identify its most pressing problems of the day and how you are going to fix them. Take strong and clear positions on the issues that matter to us, and let us decide which of them matter most to us when we vote. We, the voters of India, are smart enough to understand bet-hedging and just-in-case thinking. Tell us the truth, and we may even reward you for it. What we would like to see in an election manifesto A glimpse into your worldview and values ·       Express zero tolerance for misogyny. Do not continue to reward those who speak in terms that put down women and minorities; if they have no respect for people, they cannot serve. Rape culture begins with misogynistic speech and behaviour; we want to see you nip it in the bud; ·       Do not dismiss gender and sexual violence charges as minor offences. There should be a political price to pay, both rape accused and to those who go out on rallies in their support; ·       Reject interpersonal violence as a political language. Violence, including sexual violence, that targets members of one community with a view to intimidating or eliminating them is genocidal behaviour on a pilot scale. Tell us where you stand; ·       Take a clear position on caste discrimination. Dalit politics is not just about the solidification of a vote-bank but the continuing reality of our everyday attitudes towards other citizens.   ·       Take a strong position against caste atrocities and communal violence; ·       Acknowledge the reality of climate change and its consequences for our survival. Your approach to development ·       Do you commit to consultative, consensual, participatory and transparent decision-making, especially on land and resource issues? ·       Do you see a relationship between human rights and development and how does this affect the choices you will make? ·       How will you improve the life-chances of the very marginal? Tell us what you will do that will substantively alter the quality of their education and remove the ceiling to their aspirations. ·       What are your plans for reducing the vulnerability of communities to climate change and other disasters and how are you going to help communities achieve resilience?   ·       Let us see what you have thought about sustainable technologies in which you will invest, how you will improve agricultural and industrial practices and how you will approach conservation. Your election manifesto is a medium to communicate with us on matters we care about; use it meaningfully.

It can't possibly be that simple! (Could it?)

This morning, I stood in the shortest queue ever to vote. It was all smooth sailing. The cop at the entrance told us which queue to join--no second guessing, waiting and finding out it's the wrong one! The queue was blessedly short; so short it was single file! People were relatively quiet.

Prior to the election, I was wondering about the candidates. No one had bothered to canvass in our neighbhourhood except the BJP and then too, it was not the candidate but one of those autos with a megaphone attached. The ruling party had changed candidates on us--not that we got to meet or learn about either.

We stood for a brief moment and looked over the giant EC poster with candidate photos. It was an easy decision as we looked at those interchangeable faces.

I thought the queue would be discussing candidates, mainly because they were on my mind.

But the conversation in the queue was far more pedestrian and predictable for a middle-class Indian neighbourhood. People had come clutching all kinds of paper--the Voter ID, booth slips, receipts from the EC, ration cards, even Aadhaar.

There was great consternation because the parties had not distributed booth slips. Why? All that information is on your voter ID! But I did not say, because I have never learnt to sound authoritative about paperwork.

The Election Commission has banned these slips, one woman voter pronounced. The others said, it's going very slowly because the slips are not there. I wanted to say, they have to check against all their registers so that no one votes in your name. It does not matter how many pieces of paper you bring. But I said nothing.

Then the couple behind murmured about first time voters. I was curious. The queue was full of people 40+ and senior citizens. She said (also the one with the EC ban information in the previous para) they have the most awareness and want to vote. He said, "The EC is trying for 100%." I couldn't resist, so I asked, "Will they manage it? 100%? What are the chances?" He said, "75-80." Then with the tone of an expert (because all men are experts), "75-80% is also good." She added in support, "100% is not possible. They don't allow postal and Internet voting." Then they got into a discussion about government officials and who had the postal vote. I lost interest, as I usually do when men acquire that expert-voice.

Senior citizens in their 60s and 70s kept cutting the queue and entering the booth to vote. At one point, the entire family in front of us entered with them. There were ten people in there at one go and polling officers could not function. They turned to my mother, 80+ and standing obediently outside the room, and said, "You cannot crowd the room." I said, "She is standing outside. We will not enter till you call us." Although another queue-cutter was pressing into my back as if it were a stampede. (What is it with us???)

The conversation between her and the couple behind me resumed.

Voting is our duty. It is alright to wait 15 minutes for your turn. Your sambar will not curdle and you can miss 10 minutes of the Vijay film for this.

These people are my age. Do they not remember what it was like in the pre-Seshan elections? The rough and tumble of the campaign. The noise. The violence. The booth-capturing. The dumping of votes. The hit and miss of being able to vote or not. Having voted in a January election but disappearing off the voter registry in May. Whole buildings appearing and disappearing. Dead people showing up in registers but those who voted last year not being found. Don't these people remember what elections and voting were like?

I was so proud to be voting with someone who had canvassed door-to-door for the Congress in the first election and worked as a polling agent. She was posted by the Press Information Bureau to the Election Commission for counting during the next election and has voted in every single election since Independence. She stood there quietly, in spite of having been unstable on her feet this morning. She had water with lime juice in her bag, Vertin, a fan and a towel, and no complaints.

And there was this twitchy lady who must be barely 60, cutting the queue and pushing me to get into the polling booth.

 From the voting mark on my finger,
you might conclude I had not voted but made a splash! 

The policeman said nothing to her, but addressed my mother, "Don't go in now." I was so annoyed. "She has worked in the first election. We know the rules and won't break them." He was a little startled.

In the queue, the second-guessing about what ID was acceptable, what procedure to follow, continued.

We stepped in, and had voted in under two minutes.

It really was that simple. Thank heaven, the people in the queue were not allowed to make rules--they would have set up an obstacle course where there was none! 

Elections and security

Making tough choices: Elections and security, Infochange India, May 2009.

By Swarna Rajagopalan

At their best, elections offer a safety valve that can prevent difference of opinion from escalating into conflict. Conversely, an election gone wrong can be the final straw for mobilising public opinion against a particular establishment.

For most of us who were privileged to vote in India’s recently concluded elections, the conjunction of ‘election’ and ‘security’ is likely to conjure up the sprinkling of police or paramilitary personnel in the vicinity of polling booths as well as the endless discussion by talking heads as to who was ‘soft’ and who was ‘tough’ on the question of dealing with terror. Action and policy decisions on Kandahar, the parliament blast case and of course, the attack on Mumbai in November 2008 were dissected ad nauseum in the bid by each of the two major parties to look ‘strongest’. It might also recall the controversy over relocating the IPL tournament because the government would not guarantee security arrangements to anything else at the time of the elections. On second thought, it will not take too much imagination to realise that there may be more to the election-security correlation than first comes to mind.1

Elections need security

The first reports of systematic election-related violence that hit the national headlines came from Meham in Haryana where bitter political rivalry was first expressed through the forced capture of eight polling booths in February 1990. The Election Commission ordered two repolls but the climate of intimidation and violence did not abate.2 After this, it was impossible to overlook other instances of election violence, whether they took the form of intimidating candidates and voters, booth-capturing (which entered the Indian political vocabulary) and stuffing of ballot-boxes or the capture and replacement of vehicles carrying the boxes.

It is worth remembering though that when the Indian media brought election violence to public attention, one of the factors to which it was commonly attributed was the entrance of criminals into politics. The generation of freedom-fighters and social activists was being replaced in the political arena by a new generation of leaders and political aspirants, and some of them brought other rivalries, agendas and methods to their political careers.

Feudal relationships, for instances, carried over into the political arena. Surrendered dacoit Phoolan Devi entered politics and contested elections. More recently, Arun Gawli of the Mumbai underworld became a member of the Maharashtra legislative assembly. The politician-criminal nexus is one of popular cinema’s most commonly told stories. The symbiotic relationship forged between organised crime, politics and business has been identified as one of the triggers for the 1992-93 Bombay riots.

Today, it has become so commonplace to see MPs and even ministers with criminal cases pending against them, that where there should be no debate, we still consider whether Sunjay Dutt should be able to contest elections. Shibu Soren, Lalu Yadav, Taslimuddin, Jaiprakash Yadav and Fatmi found a place in the council of ministers. And now, MK Azhagiri whose power and influence in Madurai derive neither from charisma nor a great service record will be a member of parliament and likely, a minister.

Hate speech and participation in communal violence both appear to be resume-builders in some quarters. Varun Gandhi has been elected to parliament from Pilibhit and the riot accused in Kandhamal, Manoj Pradhan, has won an assembly seat. Jagdish Tytler, whose role in the 1984 riots continues to be a sore point, was only recently sidelined. The Shiv Sena’s continued political significance over the decades is perhaps the best example.

In short, elections, violence, hate and criminality have become intertwined over the decades. Strictly implemented reforms that covered the election process end-to-end, from voter registration and identity cards to a code of conduct for candidates to the adoption of electronic voting machines, have largely succeeded in securing the actual election process. But as the afore-mentioned examples show, electoral democracy continues to be plagued by criminal elements, often marshalled to serve divisive ends.

Elections are a safety valve

Elections provide an institutionalised procedure for articulating difference and preventing contrasting perspectives from becoming conflicting interests. The 2009 Indian election arguably offered at least four distinctive worldviews that sometimes had intersecting interests—a centrist Congress view, a Hindutva view, the view of the left and the regional parties’ view. The contest between these views began in rallies and op-ed spaces and ended at the electronic voting machine. Without that safety valve, where else would their sometimes rather acrimonious differences seek resolution?

This positive description ends when a majoritarian, winner-takes-all system reinforces the political influence of a demographic majority. The first decade of Sri Lanka’s independent history created the conditions for precisely this. In 1948, two acts were passed that excluded the Tamils working in plantation areas from citizenship and therefore, the right to vote. Within a few years, a coalition of forces opposed to the intra-elite, pre-independence consensus that both Tamil and Sinhalese be adopted as official languages, swept the 1956 elections. The mandate they received allowed them to make Sinhala the only official language of Ceylon (as it was then called). The 1955 election is a watershed that features in every Tamil narrative of an alienation that grew over the years to crystallise into multiple militant secessionist movements. Sri Lanka has since adopted proportional representation but too late to put this genie back in the bottle without an intervening civil war.

Another instance where elections form part of the narrative of alienation is in Jammu and Kashmir. It is common knowledge that between 1947 and 1996, only two free and fair elections were held in Jammu and Kashmir. The first was in 1951 and returned Sheikh Abdullah with a resounding mandate. The second was in 1977. Besides the elections not being free and fair, governments with a popular mandate were also dismissed by the centre. These underscored a feeling that Kashmiris were second-class citizens in India, and election malpractices in 1987 were the trigger for the insurgency in the valley.

Free and fair elections bestow authority upon governments. Those who seek election, seek legitimate power. When the elections are not free and fair, the government that follows lacks legitimacy. Eroded legitimacy leads to alienation, a signal feature of insecurity.

Elections and conflict

Elections have a peculiar impact on conflict. Rigged elections contribute to alienation and insurgency. Holding elections in the context of conflict presents a special set of challenges. Fresh elections are often part of a conflict resolution process and one of the markers of a transition out of conflict.

For insurgent or nationalist groups, participating in the electoral process is an act that demonstrates the sincerity of their intent to give up violence. Ensuring a free and fair election is the State’s way of showing its genuine intention to resolve the conflict.

Apart from rigged elections and popular governments being deposed, the fact that the ability to participate in elections is a marker of citizenship is also a source of conflict. The agitation against illegal immigrants in Assam was sparked by a controversy over electoral rolls and who was included on them. The agitation and the accord that followed centred on defining citizenship through electoral rights.

There are several levels of challenges to holding elections in the middle of a conflict. First, there are the physical challenges of safely transporting personnel and election paraphernalia to polling stations in the conflict zone. Second, the campaign has to be secured and voters and candidates protected against intimidation and violence. This is no small feat, even in peacetime, where feudal patterns prevail and social hierarchies are reinforced by economic realities. Third, the legitimacy of the elections is tested on two counts. Often, the legitimacy of the state apparatus holding the elections is what is in dispute, and thus, the elections too are regarded as a dubious exercise. Further, when there are calls to organisations, potential candidates and voters to boycott the elections, their value is symbolic at best and debatable at worst. When turnout is low, for one reason or another, any election result may be challenged as representing much less than the general will of the people.

Sajjad Lone’s decision to contest the 2009 parliamentary election drew a lot of attention, but he is not the first person to have exchanged militancy for mainstream politics. The road whereby a political conflict is transformed into a militant movement is better-charted by scholars than the reverse. Sri Lanka has seen many walk this route. Following the 1987 accord, several militants laid down their arms and entered the political mainstream, contesting provincial and national elections. More recently, Colonel Karuna who broke away from the LTTE in 2004 formed a political party and contested last year’s provincial council elections. In India, the journey of the Asom Gana Parishad from student organisation to mass agitation to political party is well-known. The Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam also gave up a secessionist platform (although not a violent one) in the early-1960s in order to keep its place within the national political mainstream. Right after that, it swept the assembly elections of 1967, and since then, one or the other Dravidian party has ruled Tamil Nadu. In each case, contesting elections was a way of establishing the organisation or individual’s bone fides.

Free and fair elections, in turn, are a State’s way to prove that it is willing to move past the adversarial relationships of the conflict. Moreover, returning to the point about legitimacy, a State can point to the results of a free and fair election as evidence of consent to its authority. India has argued in the past, with mixed success, that elections in Jammu and Kashmir constituted a plebiscitary vote in its favour.

One consequence of long-term conflict is that society as a whole becomes militarised. There are more weapons floating around. People become desensitised to the exercise of force. As combatants desert, return with injuries or are demobilised for some reason, there is a larger proportion of civilians skilled in the use of firearms. Some, even many of them, may be unemployed or underemployed, and ergo, be available for hire to carry out small and large acts of political violence.3 Even beyond the conflict zone, thus, there is a rise in the level of violence.
Elections further human security

Elections are a procedural or institutional demonstration of democratic values and practice. As flawed as they might be, they by and large suggest that there is an aspiration in the polity towards the appearance of freedom of choice and freedom of political thought. It would seem that these are seen as positive values to espouse or to be seen as espousing. Elections are like a form-letter, a ready and easy means for people to articulate, express preference and choose what they want in terms of values, policies and leadership.

Indian elections actually do offer an example of how elections serve as a contest between various worldviews and ideals. If ‘bijli, sadak, pani’ are the catchphrase to describe the Indian voter’s demand for good governance, Indira Gandhi’s ‘garibi hatao’ slogan in 1971 may also be seen as an attempt to make poverty an election issue. The elections of the early-1990s are virtually the ‘Mandir-Mandal’ elections, placing on the agenda particular views of what India is and what constitutes social justice in the Indian context.

When national identity, development and justice issues are part of electoral platforms and debated in seriousness, elections come to serve three purposes. They provide an opportunity for learning from multiple perspectives. People are able to make an informed choice. Because these issues affect people’s ability to survive and thrive, elections ultimately further their overall security.

Reprise

Elections are a means and a process; whereas security is a value, an aspiration and a state of affairs. At their best, elections create a climate in which issues relating to the welfare and security of citizens can be amicably debated and differences resolved. They offer a safety valve that can prevent difference of opinion from escalating into conflict. Conversely, an election gone wrong can be the final straw for mobilising public opinion against a particular establishment—a mobilisation that can in turn take many routes, including insurgency. Elections are a common way in recent times for easing the journey out of conflict, and participation in a free and fair election serves as an interaction between former combatants, the public and the State that builds mutual confidence. Thus, while those who discuss elections and those who theorise security seldom attend the same seminars, there is enough of a common political agenda that they could share for them to rethink the scope of their work.

(Swarna Rajagopalan is a Chennai-based political scientist specialising in security, broadly defined. She is the founder of Prajnya Initiatives for Peace, Justice and Security, a new Chennai non-profit.)