Tribune Books: ‘Socialism and the Indian Constitution’: Prabhat Patnaik’s prescription for India’s malaise

As the din of Hindu nationalism grows louder and the juggernaut of neoliberalism propels jobless growth, catatonia seems to have struck the paan wallah, the LIC agent, the government school teacher, the average Indian. There is inertia in this sense of resignation to fate. It does not have space for the pleasant contentment of amor fati, nor is there the absolute horror of nihilism. It is just the dull rattle of a machine. India’s ‘Reserve Army of Labour’ inherited from the British Raj marches on to nowhere.

Stupor ought to be treated. And there are remedies. A particular kind induces delusional euphoria. And such a happy rush to reclaim a ‘lost repurposed gilded past’ is what many soldiers prefer. As with all delusions, they are removed from reality. But this mental state is what our patient doesn’t want to leave for it is a rare feeling of joy after years of dejection. Any efforts at dislodging him will make him act out against his brethren — there’ll be anger and, at times, violence.

This is a serious situation and calls for finding a better treatment, one rooted in consensus reality. A gentle nudge towards the ideal course. Prabhat Patnaik provides just that in his lucid telling of the tale of Indian socialism. In the 140-page warm embrace of pragmatic idealism, ‘Socialism and The Indian Constitution’, the Rhodes scholar and Marxian economist articulates plainly that dejection was never to plague the average Indian if only the ideals of socialism were to be upheld through the various fragile moments of the Republic’s economic history.

Now, one of those delusional soldiers might say that socialism and secularism are unnecessary legacies of the Emergency. But reality states that socialism was built at heart of the anti-colonial struggle — it was supposed to be a gradual forging of a new community that transcended religion and caste. A welfare state for once utilising its resources for its own — to remove unemployment and associated poverty that the Raj brought about.

A quick weekend read, this thesis offers airtight logic, shows the efficacy of the ‘treatment’— uncovering the rationale behind licence-quota system, bank nationalisation, land reforms — till the mid-80s when the floodgates were opened to the whims of international capital and ‘GDP nationalism’. There is also the healthy mindful acknowledgement of the certain side effects of this remedy. True dialectics.

The enmeshment of the nature of market capital, the weakening of a developing nation’s autonomy, rampant inequality and the rise of the hush-hush neo-fascism have also been presented with hard data and scientific rigour to appeal to the remnants of the inherent human rationality in the delusional soldier. What more? For the willing, it shows that corrective steps are still feasible to say the least. One such measure — complete with rights to food, employment, education and universal healthcare — would only require mobilising 6.5 per cent of additional GDP, which can be realised by putting two simple taxes on the top 1 per cent, and which he shows even in capitalistic reasoning won’t really hurt them!

This one is especially for you oh starry-eyed rebel youth.