A long march

It was a long march, all right. But there were no clenched fists, no display of weapons, not even loud slogans. It was not like the long march in China to conquer the country for communism. It was a peaceful demonstration of some 28,000 landless from different parts of India. They had waited quietly in their villages and forests for a peaceful solution to their deprivation.
Big dams, industrial projects or special economic zones had devoured their lands and houses. They had come to Delhi on foot all the way from Gwalior, the meeting point, nearly 400 kilometres from Delhi, to tell the Manmohan Singh government that they could not live in the cold any longer. They wanted their own land or some other, not promises, nor procedures nor the endless rounds to corrupt patwari (village functionary), policeman or mahajan (moneylender).
Mahatma Gandhi, on whose birthday they chose to start the Janadesh march, had assured them that there would be no tears on anybody's cheek once the country was free. After 60 years of independence, they and their families had shed all the tears they had. Neither the government nor the law court had paid any attention to them. Some 500 had come a year earlier to give a chetavani (warning). But Delhi was too absorbed in the Indo-US nuclear deal.
They gratefully remember how the ordinary people helped them on their way and gave them ration, 50 per-cent of their need, as they marched under the leadership of Gandhian Rajgopal, for 26 days on the main road with banners saying in bold words: "Land to the tiller" and "Land for the landless." Political parties were conspicuous by their absence on the way. The marchers wanted to visit the Commonwealth Games Village, which they were told was coming up right on the bed of the Yamuna maa (mother), putting up concrete buildings on the source of water recharge.
They recalled how they, too, were ousted because of one project or the other at the places where they had lived for generations. Their own experience told them how the builders, bureaucrats and politicians would join hands to uproot them from the land, their maa, like the Yamuna.
During the march they saw the opulence of some parts of Delhi -- the tall buildings, dazzling malls and an unending queue of cars. They hated the village zamindar for his wealth. But they were abhorred to see the city's riches and men and women flaunting their wealth. Their zamindar was like a poor relation before them.
Peacefully, the march ended a few days ago at Ramlila grounds, the centre of the city. Some slept as the night descended, but many sat waiting for the government word on their petition -- the petition on steps to effect land reforms. They reminded the rulers of what they promised in the Common Minimum Program:
"Landless families would be endowed with land through implementation of land ceiling and land redistribution legislation. No reversal of ceiling will be permitted."
While the negotiations with the government were going on, the police behaved in autocratic manner. People were confined to the Ramlima grounds, and even the water tanker was not permitted to go for refill for hours. This illegal detention was not at the instance of Rural Development Minister Raghuvansh Prasad Singh.
It was apparent that the order had come from the Lt Governor in charge of Delhi's law and order. It was a mockery of democracy. But then the police have got used to throwing their weight around since the days of the emergency. At that time, too, police officials had indulged in excesses. This time it was no better: with no order, the police kept the 28,000 people to the ground, without food and water for almost 24 hours.
The ordeal was over when Raghuvansh Prasad Singh came to the ground to convey the news. It was agreed to appoint a Land Reforms Council under the prime minister to draft a national land reforms policy. The council will be assisted by a committee headed by the Rural Development minister, and it will do the field survey and collect the data.
Too many words in the document and too many bureaucrats to interpret them may stall the real land reforms. Still, it is a small victory for the marchers. Yet, the larger question remains: how do the 75 per-cent of people living on $ 1 (Rs 40) a day, or even less, improve their lot? What does the growth rate of 9 to 10 percent mean? How long can the two Indias live side by side?
The way the naxalites kill the innocent -- the son of Jharkhand's former chief minister was murdered -- is palpably wrong, if that is the way sought to put pressure on the government. Still the status quo will not only give rise to violence but also give it recognition. Where is the money going? The GDP has more than doubled in a decade and a half.
The Manmohan Singh government needs to appoint a commission to find out who in the society are benefiting and cornering gains. On lesser grounds, Jawaharlal Nehru had ordered a probe. The national income over the first and second plans (1951-66) went up by 43 percent. But whom had it benefited? Nehru raised the query. He appointed a committee, headed by a progressive P.C. Mahalanobis to seek the answer.
The committee found "concentration of economic power in the private sector more than what could be justified as necessary on functional grounds." But it wondered "how far this is an inevitable part of the process of economic development, how far it can be justified in terms of economy of scale and full utilisation of scarce managerial and entrepreneurial resources, and how far the growth which has taken place is unhealthy and anti-social in its consequences."
Today, there is no check, no scrutiny and no accountability. Increasingly, the question asked is: growth for whom? Today, the landless came to Delhi to ventilate their demands. Tomorrow, the rural workers who have no means of income may march towards Delhi. The distance between India and Bharat is not lessening despite the 9-10 percent growth. The government has wasted enough of its energy and efforts on the nuclear deal with the US. When will it attend to the business?
The health of the democratic system depends on how soon it can create opportunities for all. The island of prosperity on which the elite live will be washed away by the ocean of hunger and poverty that surrounds it. The island has to expand to absorb all. Everyone cannot reach Delhi. It is for Delhi to reach everyone. Rulers still have not realised this.
Kuldip Nayar is an eminent Indian columnist.