Kozhikode: No festival can touch a Malayali the way Onam does. What better occasion than this to do some soul-searching! What are the things that make you proud as a Malayali, and that do not?

This question was posed to Union Minister of State for External Affairs Shashi Tharoor, writer C.V. Balakrishnan, actor Mukesh, athlete P.T. Usha, dancer Neena Prasad and entrepreneur Kochouseph Chittilappally. Their answers prove there is plenty to be proud about being a Malayali. But there is room for improvement too.

Shashi Tharoor

I am proud about our pluralism, our history of openness and co-existence, our creativity, literacy and our willingness to go anywhere and do anything to succeed.

But I am not proud about our over-politicisation, our emphasis on rights rather than responsibilities and our unwillingness to work in Kerala the way we work in the Gulf.

C.V. Balakrishnan

I am proud about the long distance Malayalam literature has travelled in so short a time — no language can boast of writers like O.V. Vijayan, Madhavikutty and VKN. Our Kathakali actors too deserve accolades. Their talents are second to none. I am also proud of a past when the Malayali was so selflessly committed to his political ideology. But, Malayali’s refusal to cherish his culture, language and literature is painful. I am not proud about the reality shows on our television channels that do more harm than good to music. And Malayali’s newly found love for violence is certainly not something to take pride in.

Mukesh

I feel proud as a Malayali when I find there is always another Malayali in a foreign country. We have the drive to make it big anywhere. I am also proud of the immensely talented actors and technicians Malayalam cinema has produced. But our gullibility and greed, when it comes to money (we continue to invest in fraudulent schemes), is appalling. So is our willingness to pay Rs.100 to get a prize of Rs.1. Malayalis watch English, Hindi and Tamil movies and expect similar opulence in Malayalam films too, forgetting the fact our films are made at Rs.1 crore, while a Bollywood film has a budget of Rs.100 crore.

P.T. Usha

As a Malayali, I feel particularly proud when I travel abroad, or in other parts of the country. I have met Malayalis in every corner of the world and have been impressed by the way they have adapted themselves. I think we are truly unique in this regard. I also take pride in the way we could assimilate different cultures, religions, food habits and costumes into our own. As a sportswoman, I am particularly proud that we have given the country so many outstanding female athletes.

I am not so proud about the Malayali’s tendency to oppose development. And we do not have to over-politicise or communalise every issue.

Kochouseph

I like the fact that the Malayali is intelligent, educated and has very clean habits. I feel we are better than anybody else in India in these regard. But yes, we need to extend this adherence to cleanliness beyond our homes. I am not proud about that the fact Malayalis are not as much aware about their duties as their rights. And I would like to see in a Malayali more appetite for taking risks so that there will be more entrepreneurs like me.

Neena Prasad

I am proud about the sheer diversity of our culture. There is no equivalent to art forms like Kathakali and Koodiyattom. And Malayalis form the most discerning audience. I am not proud about the hypocrisy of Malayalis. We are very stingy with praise or and are hesitant about acknowledging our own achievers. Mohanlal is the best actor in India, but Malayalis would rather rave about Nasiruddin Shah or Kamal Hasan.

Name of source: The Hindu

Tharoor on Thursday said papers must move away from mere tokenism. He added that this was happening even as news coverage on Indian politics had become far more indepth and substantive than before.

Pointing out that celebrity trivia accounted for a large portion of international coverage, Tharoor said, “I think most of our top national newspapers today find it difficult to devote more than one page to world affairs. I find this particularly troubling in an era in which we are living in a globalising world… where we cannot escape being conscious of the fact that India is no longer thriving behind protectionist barriers.” He was speaking at the International Newsmedia Marketing Association (INMA) annual conference on the role of newspapers and free media in India.

Urging “professional purveyors of international news” to do better than the token one page of very short items that passed for world news coverage, Tharoor said India must celebrate growth in the print industry that had defied global trends.

“If you contrast our newspaper circulations with countries like the US, there is no comparison. Today, The Times of India claims to be the largest circulated English daily in the world, at a time when the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal is dwindling. Our Times is read by some 13.3 million people daily, while the best-selling American paper, USA Today, has 2.5 million readers,” the minister said.

Tharoor added that Indian language papers were doing even better. The extent to which Hindi language publications had, in keeping with their share of the literate population, increased dramatically is a sign for the future, he said.

Addressing the media after the launch of a few schemes at the Regional Passport Office here, Mr. Tharoor said India had a fundamentally healthy relationship with China that went beyond the boundary issue. “The very fact of border talks is confirmation that the relationship remains healthy,” he said, referring to the recent round of talks between special representatives of both countries in New Delhi.

“While boundary talks are important, China has become India’s single largest trade partner [overtaking the United States] exclusive of IT (information technology) sector,” Mr. Tharoor said. He said that the fact that many Indian companies had set up shop in Chinese cities like Shanghai and many Chinese companies had come to India to do business showed the interpenetration of India and China in each other’s market. A large number of tourist visas were being issued to Chinese travellers with eagerness to explore India while many Indians took the Mansarovar yatra, he said.

On a question regarding the security of Indian Diaspora in Australia against racial attacks, he said the Centre had left the Australian government in doubt as to the seriousness with which it viewed the situation. “Education is a major sector in Australia and our 90,000 strong student community there contributes Australian $ 15 billion to its economy. That is a significant population and we have shared our concerns with the government of Australia,” he said.

Name Of Source: The Hindu

That is a quiz question likely to stump the most devoted aficionado of global politics. It’s the Indian Ocean Rim Countries’ Association for Regional Cooperation, blessed with the unwieldy acronym IOR-ARC, perhaps the most extraordinary international grouping you’ve never heard of.

The Association manages to unite Australia and Iran, Singapore and India, Madagascar and the United Arab Emirates, and a dozen other states large and small – unlikely partners brought together by the fact that the Indian Ocean washes their shores. I’ve just come back (as India’s new Minister of State for External Affairs) from attending the Association’s ministerial meeting in Sana’a, Yemen. Despite being accustomed to my eyes glazing over at the alphabet soup of international organizations I’ve encountered during a three-decade-long United Nations career, I find myself excited by the potential of IOR-ARC.

Regional associations have been created on a variety of premises: geographical, as with the African Union; geopolitical, as with the Organization of American States; economic and commercial, as with ASEAN or Mercosur; and security-driven, as with NATO. There are multi-continental ones too, like IBSA, which brings together India, Brazil, and South Africa, or the better-known G-8.

Even Goldman Sachs can claim to have invented an inter-governmental body, since the “BRIC” concept coined by that Wall Street firm was recently institutionalized by a meeting of the heads of government of Brazil, Russia, India, and China in Yekaterinburg last month. But it’s fair to say there’s nothing quite like IOR-ARC in the annals of global diplomacy.

For one thing, there isn’t another ocean on the planet that takes in Asia, Africa, and Oceania (and could embrace Europe, too, since the French department of Reunion, in the Indian Ocean, gives France observer status in IOR-ARC, and the French foreign ministry is considering seeking full membership).

For another, every one of Samuel Huntington’s famously clashing civilizations finds a representative among its members, giving a common roof to the widest possible array of worldviews in their smallest imaginable combination (just 18 countries). When IOR-ARC meets, new windows are opened between countries separated by distance as well as politics.

Malaysians talk with Mauritians, Arabs with Australians, South Africans with Sri Lankans, and Iranians with Indonesians. The Indian Ocean serves as both a sea separating them and a bridge linking them together.

The potential of the organization is huge. There are opportunities to learn from one another, to share experiences, and to pool resources on such issues as blue-water fishing, maritime transport, and piracy (in the Gulf of Aden and the waters off Somalia, as well as in the straits of Malacca).

But IOR-ARC doesn’t have to confine itself to the water: it’s the countries that are members, not just their coastlines. So everything from the development of tourism in the 18 countries to the transfer of science and technology is on the table. The poorer developing countries have new partners from which to receive educational scholarships for their young and training courses for their government officers. There is already talk of new projects in capacity building, agriculture, and the promotion of cultural cooperation.

This is not to imply that IOR-ARC has yet fulfilled its potential in the decade that it has existed. As often happens with brilliant ideas, the creative spark consumes itself in the act of creation, and IOR-ARC has been treading water, not having done enough to get beyond the declaratory phase that marks most new initiatives. The organization itself is lean to the point of emaciation, with just a half-dozen staff (including the gardener!) in its Mauritius secretariat. The formula of pursuing work in an Academic Group, a Business Forum, and a Working Group on Trade and Investment has not yet brought either focus or drive to the parent body.

But such teething pains are inevitable in any new group, and the seeds of future cooperation have already been sown. Making a success of an association that unites large countries and small ones, island states and continental ones, Islamic republics, monarchies, and liberal democracies, and every race known to mankind, represents both a challenge and an opportunity.

This diversity of interests and capabilities can easily impede substantive cooperation, but it can also make such cooperation far more rewarding. In this diversity, we in India see immense possibilities, and in Sana’a we pledged ourselves to energizing and reviving this semi-dormant organization. The brotherhood of man is a tired cliché, but the neighborhood of an ocean is a refreshing new idea. The world as a whole stands to benefit if 18 littoral states can find common ground in the churning waters of a mighty ocean.

1. The threat to India’s Pluralism.

This is something that I have often written about in the past, the need to preserve India’s pluralism. Everyone in India must feel that he or she has a stake in the country, that they can reach the highest office of the land regardless of which ethnic or religious or linguistic background they hail from. The fact that the President of India hailed from a poor scheduled caste family in Kerala speaks volumes for India’s pluralism. But it remains imperative that this pluralism not be threatened, that certain people be denied top offices in India only because of they hail from specific minority backgrounds.

It is important to remember that one can be a good Muslim and a good Keralite and a good Indian all at the same time. Let us not forget that India is a pluralist state because Indians are a pluralist people, hailing from different backgrounds and cultures, different languages and religions, yet all of who are Indians.

2. The threat to India’s Democracy.

This is the other side of pluralism. Democracy allows people to give vent to their aspirations and to rise through the hierarchy based on their effort. Non-democratic societies often stiffle the voice of minorities and others not in the mainstream. There can be no gainsaying that democracy has been one of the pillars of India’s strength, and it must be strengthened, not weakened. Democracy ensures a liberal, pluralist state.

3. Poverty.

This is a real threat to India’s future. By poverty I don’t simply mean the kind of poverty that economists refer to, that of a lack of sufficient food, though, of course, it is perhaps the most important. Here I also refer to the lack of opportunities that the poor suffer from, often caused by illiteracy, the lack of healthcare that causes the poor to not be totally fit.

Such lack of opportunities prevent the complete participation of huge masses of Indians in the nation’s democracy, the country’s governance. And linked to poverty are the problems of illiteracy and lack of healthcare, both of which create their own sets of problems.

4. Population.

Certainly population growth is a problem, but it is linked acutely to poverty. I have often argued that people are not poor because they have too many children, but that they have many children because they are poor. For the poor, children are a guarantor of their future, the social security net, someone who will provide for them and look after them in their old age. You cannot tackle population unless you tackle poverty first. Remove or curtail the poverty, and once people are sure about their future, they will have less children.

5. Demographic imbalance.

It has been said that the unbalanced growth of population, that is more in north and less elsewhere is a threat. To me, it is not too much of a threat. If India has to delimit its constituencies for representation to Parliament, the north will gain many more seats while the south may actually lose a few. But the positive aspect here is that we are beginning to see ourselves more as Indians rather than just as north or south Indians, hence the believed divide of the past is much less now. And even if north Indians have the numbers, it is south India that is fuelling economic growth. Thus there is balance of sorts.

6. Federalism.

I seriously believe that total federalism is a must for India’s long-term benefit. And here I don’t just mean transferring powers from the Centre to the states, but also from the states down to the panchayats (village councils). Let the people be able to guide their own destinies, be responsible for their lives. The centralism of the past has benefitted no one.

7. Economic reforms and employment.

I seriously believe that for the sake of India’s future, there can be no going back to the era of socialism. As I said earlier, all we did in those decades was stifle growth and distribute poverty. Economic reforms are needed to ensure that the Indian economy grows at a healthy rate of at least seven per cent per annum.

Linked to this economic growth is employing all those millions of Indians who remain without jobs. Every year, millions become eligible for the workplace, and it is important that the economy grows at a pace that can absorb all the job seekers. Those frustrated in their attempts to get employed and a decent livelihood often become terrorists. Hence, liberalisation and market reforms are a must.

Shashi Tharoor spoke to Amberish K Diwanji.

That may not be a bad thing. India’s last two governments each served a full term and presided over significant economic growth, even though they comprised 23 and 20 parties, respectively. Coalition politics gives representation to the myriad interests that make up a diverse and complex society, and ensures that the country as a whole accepts the policies ultimately adopted. But coalition rule can also often mean governance of the lowest common denominator, as resistance by any of the gov-ernment’s significant members to a policy can delay or even thwart it. In India’s parliamentary system, if a coalition loses its majority, the government falls, and keeping allies together can sometimes prove a greater priority than getting things done. India’s national elections are really an aggregate of 30 different state elections, each influenced by its own local consid-erations, regional political currents, and different patterns of political incumbency. Soon after May 16, the largest single party that emerges will seek to construct a coalition out of a diverse array of victors from the various states.

Several outcomes are possible. The most likely is that Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s Indian National Congress, currently leading the government, emerges once again as the largest single party and assembles a new ruling coalition. The main alternative would be majority alliance put together by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), led by the 82-year-old Lal Krishna Advani.

But there is a third possibility: a motley collection of regional parties, together with the Communists, gets enough seats to prevent either of the two big parties from forming a government. In that case, a “hung parliament” could see a “third front” coming to power as a minority government, supported tactically by one of the big parties. This has happened be-fore – and each time, the government that resulted fell within a year.

Each alternative could have serious implications for India. Though the big parties are broadly committed to continuing an economic policy of liberalisation and growth, the BJP is mostly focused on the well-being of India’s merchant class, whereas Congress wishes to redistribute enhanced government revenues to the poor through generous social programmes.

The left, which would strongly influence any “third front” government, are staunchly opposed to economic liberalisation and wish to strengthen, rather than dilute, India’s large public sector.

In foreign policy, India’s growing closeness with the United States under both the BJP and the Congress has proved controversial at home, with leftist parties threatening to scrap the Indo-US nuclear deal and break defence ties with Is-rael if they come to power. Should the regional parties dominate the government, domestic politics would strongly impact India’s foreign policy: the anger of Tamil voters over events in Sri Lanka, or of Muslims over Gaza, would be reflected in the government and therefore constrain policy options. The BJP has promised a more hawkish security posture than Congress in the wake of the Mumbai terrorist attacks, but when it was in power it conducted itself remarkably similarly to its rival, initiating a peace process with Pakistan.

The biggest differences among the various groupings consist in the tone and tenor of their respective visions of India. Congress remains a “big tent” party, committed to preserving India’s pluralism and conscious of the multiple identities and interests of India’s many peoples. The BJP, which accuses Congress of “appeasing” India’s minorities, hews to a staunchly Hindu-chauvinist line, and has received support from some of the most bigoted and intolerant sections of Indian society.

The “third front” involves assorted petty particularisms – parties representing the sectarian interests of specific castes, sub-regions, or linguistic groups. The danger is that such groups could accentuate the divisions of a fractious society, rather than pull everyone together in the collective national interest.

That would be a startling change from five years ago. The 2004 elections were won by the Congress party, led by a woman political leader of Roman Catholic faith and Italian descent (Sonia Gandhi), who made way for a Sikh prime minister (Manmohan Singh) to be sworn by a Muslim (President Abdul Kalam) in a country that is 81% Hindu. That single moment captured much of what elections have meant for this diverse democracy. But the ultimate reality will remain that of a coalition government trying to make progress in a contentious polity. In India, policy changes require political consensus within the ruling coalition, labour laws are strongly defended by un-ions and political parties, and controversial decisions can be challenged on the streets, in the courts, and ultimately at the polls. Necessary policy reforms advocated by a ruling party are often held hostage to the prejudices of its allies.

So change comes slowly. But it does come, and once a policy consensus has been established, it tends to be durable. Indian democracy has often been likened to the stately progress of the elephant – ponderous in its gait and reluctant to change course, but not easily swayed from its new path when it does.

The elephant of Indian democracy will acquire a new set of mahouts before the month’s end. Who they are will have a major impact on the fortunes and prospects of one-sixth of humanity. That alone makes the election results due on May 16 worth the world’s attention.

As an Indian, I have become a little concerned about the proliferation of those who speak of India as a future ‘world leader’ or even as ‘the next superpower.’ The American publishers of my most recent book, The Elephant, the Tiger and the Cellphone, even added a gratuitous subtitle suggesting that my volume was about “the emerging 21st century power.”

Now, I appreciate that this is not entirely unreasonable. Many thinkers and writers I respect have spoken of India’s geostrategic advantages, its economic dynamism, political stability, proven military capabilities, its nuclear, space and missile programmes, the entrepreneurial energy of India’s people, and the country’s growing pool of young and skilled manpower as assuring India ‘great power’ status as a ‘world leader’ in the new century.

And yet I have a problem with that term. The notion of ‘world leadership’ is a curiously archaic one. The very phrase is redolent of Kipling ballads and James Bondian adventures. What makes a country a world leader? Is it population, in which case India is on course to top the charts, overtaking China as the world’s most populous country by 2034? Is it military strength (India’s is already the world’s fourth-largest army) or nuclear capacity (India’s status having been made clear in 1998, and last year formally recognized in the Indo-US nuclear deal)? Is it economic development? There, India has made extraordinary strides in recent years; it is already the world’s fifth-largest economy in purchasing power parity (PPP) terms, and continues to climb, though too many of our people still live destitute, amidst despair and disrepair. Or could it be a combination of all these, allied to something altogether more difficult to define – the ‘soft power’ of its culture?

Much of the conventional analysis of India’s stature in the world relies on the all-too-familiar economic assumptions. But we are famously a land of paradoxes, and one of those paradoxes is that so many speak about India as a great power of the 21st century when we are not yet able to feed, educate and employ all our people. So it is not economic growth, military strength or population numbers that I would underscore when I think of India’s potential leadership role in the world of the 21st century. Rather, if there is one attribute of independent India to which I think increasing attention should now be paid around the globe, it is the quality which India is already displaying in ample measure today – its ‘soft power.’

The notion of soft power is relatively new in international discourse. The term was coined by Harvard’s Joseph Nye to describe the extraordinary strengths of the US that went well beyond American military dominance. Nye argued that “power is the ability to alter the behaviour of others to get what you want, and there are three ways to do that: coercion (sticks), payments (carrots) and attraction (soft power). If you are able to attract others, you can economize on the sticks and carrots.” Traditionally, power in world politics was seen in terms of military power: the side with the larger army was likely to win. But even in the past, this was not enough: after all, the US lost the Vietnam War, the Soviet Union was defeated in Afghanistan, and the US discovered in its first few years in Iraq the wisdom of Talleyrand’s adage that the one thing you cannot do with a bayonet is to sit on it. Enter soft power – both as an alternative to hard power, and as a complement to it. To quote Nye again: “the soft power of a country rests primarily on three resources: its culture (in places where it is attractive to others), its political values (when it lives up to them at home and abroad), and its foreign policies (when they are seen as legitimate and having moral authority).”

I would go slightly beyond this: a country’s soft power, to me, emerges from the world’s perceptions of what that country is all about. The associations and attitudes conjured up in the global imagination by the mere mention of a country’s name is often a more accurate gauge of its soft power than a dispassionate analysis of its foreign policies. In my view, hard power is exercised; soft power is evoked.

For Nye, the US is the archetypal exponent of soft power. The fact is that the US is the home of Boeing and Intel, Google and the I-Pod, Microsoft and MTV, Hollywood and Disneyland, McDonald’s and Starbucks – in short, of most of the major products that dominate daily life around our globe. The attractiveness of these assets, and of the American lifestyle of which they are emblematic, is that they permit the US to persuade others to adopt the agenda of the US, rather than it having to rely purely on the dissuasive or coercive ‘hard power’ of military force.

Of course, this can cut both ways. In a world of instant mass communications enabled by the Internet, countries are increasingly judged by a global public fed on an incessant diet of web news, televised images, videos taken on the cellphones of passers-by, and email gossip. The steep decline in America’s image and standing after 9/11 is a direct reflection of global distaste for the instruments of American hard power: the Iraq invasion, Guantanamo, Abu Ghraib, torture, rendition, Blackwater’s killings of Iraqi civilians.

But this essay is not about the US. In his book, The Paradox of American Power, Nye took the analysis of soft power beyond the US; other nations too, he suggested, could acquire it. In today’s information era, he wrote, three types of countries are likely to gain soft power and so succeed: “those whose dominant cultures and ideals are closer to prevailing global norms (which now emphasize liberalism, pluralism, autonomy); those with the most access to multiple channels of communication and thus more influence over how issues are framed; and those whose credibility is enhanced by their domestic and international performance.”

At first glance, this seems to be a prescription for reaffirming the contemporary reality of US dominance, since it is clear that no country scores more highly on all three categories than the US. But Nye himself admits this is not so: soft power has been pursued with success by other countries over the years. When France lost the war of 1870 to Prussia, one of its most important steps to rebuild the nation’s shattered morale and enhance its prestige was to create the Alliance Française to promote French language and literature throughout the world. French culture has remained a major selling point for French diplomacy ever since. The UK has the British Council, the Swiss have Pro Helvetia, and Germany, Spain, Italy and Portugal have, respectively, Institutes named for Goethe, Cervantes, Dante Alighieri and Camoes. Today, China has started establishing ‘Confucius Institutes’ to promote Chinese culture internationally, and the Beijing Olympics have been a sustained exercise in the building up of soft power by an authoritarian state. The US itself has used officially sponsored initiatives, from the Voice of America to the Fulbright scholarships, to promote its soft power around the world. But soft power does not rely merely on governmental action: arguably, for the US, Hollywood and MTV have done more to promote the idea of America as a desirable and admirable society than any US governmental endeavour. Soft power, in other words, is created partly by governments, and partly despite governments; partly by deliberate action, partly by accident.

What does this mean for India? It means acknowledging that India’s claims to a significant leadership role in the world of the 21st century lie in the aspects and products of Indian society and culture that the world finds attractive. These assets may not directly persuade others to support India, but they go a long way toward enhancing India’s intangible standing in the world’s eyes.

The roots of India’s soft power run deep. India’s is a civilization that, over millennia, has offered refuge and, more importantly, religious and cultural freedom, to Jews, Parsis, several varieties of Christians, and Muslims. Jews came to the southwestern Indian coast centuries before Christ, with the destruction by the Babylonians of their First Temple, and they knew no persecution on Indian soil until the Portuguese arrived in the 16th century to inflict it. Christianity arrived on Indian soil with St. Thomas the Apostle (‘Doubting Thomas’), who came to the Malabar coast some time before 52 A.D. and was welcomed on shore, or so oral legend has it, by a flute-playing Jewish girl. He made many converts, so there are Indians today whose ancestors were Christian well before any Europeans discovered Christianity. In Kerala, where Islam came through traders, travellers and missionaries, rather than by the sword, the Zamorin of Calicut was so impressed by the seafaring skills of this community that he issued a decree obliging each fisherman’s family to bring up one son as a Muslim to man his all-Muslim navy! The India where the wail of the Muslim muezzin routinely blends with the chant of mantras at the Hindu temple, and where the tinkling of church bells accompanies the Sikh gurudwara’s reading of verses from the Guru Granth Sahib, is an India that fully embraces the world. Indeed, the British historian E.P. Thompson wrote that this heritage of diversity is what makes India “perhaps the most important country for the future of the world. All the convergent influences of the world run through this society…. There is not a thought that is being thought in the West or East that is not active in some Indian mind.”

That Indian mind has been shaped by remarkably diverse forces: ancient Hindu tradition, myth and scripture; the impact of Islam and Christianity; and two centuries of British colonial rule. The result is unique. Though there are some who think and speak of India as a Hindu country, Indian civilization today is an evolved hybrid. We cannot speak of Indian culture today without qawwali, the poetry of Ghalib, or for that matter the game of cricket, our de facto national sport. When an Indian dons ‘national dress’ for a formal event, he wears a variant of the sherwani, which did not exist before the Muslim invasions of India. When Indian Hindus voted recently in the cynical and contrived competition to select the ‘new seven wonders’ of the modern world, they voted for the Taj Mahal constructed by a Mughal king, not for Angkor Wat, the most magnificent architectural product of their religion. In the breadth (and not just the depth) of its cultural heritage lies some of India’s soft power.

One of the few generalizations that can safely be made about India is that nothing can be taken for granted about the country. Not even its name: for the word India comes from the river Indus, which flows in Pakistan. (That anomaly is easily explained, of course, since what is today Pakistan was hacked off the stooped shoulders of India by the departing British in 1947). Indian nationalism is therefore a rare phenomenon indeed. It is not based on language (since our Constitution recognizes 23, and there are 35, according to the ethnolinguists, that are spoken by more than a million people each – not to mention 22,000 distinct dialects). It is not based on geography (the ‘natural’ geography of the subcontinent – framed by the mountains and the sea – was hacked by the partition of 1947). It is not based on ethnicity (the ‘Indian’ accommodates a diversity of racial types, and many Indians have more in common ethnically with foreigners than with other Indians: Indian Punjabis and Bengalis, for instance, are ethnically kin to Pakistanis and Bangladeshis, respectively, with whom they have more in common than with Poonawalas or Bangaloreans). And it is not based on religion (we are home to every faith known to mankind, with the possible exception of Shintoism, and Hinduism – a faith without a national organization, no established church or ecclesiastical hierarchy, no Hindu Pope, no Hindu Mecca, no single scared book, no uniform beliefs or modes of worship, not even a Hindu Sunday – exemplifies as much our diversity as it does our common cultural heritage). Indian nationalism is the nationalism of an idea, the idea of an ever-ever land – emerging from an ancient civilization, united by a shared history, sustained by pluralist democracy. Pluralism is a reality that emerges from the very nature of the country; it is a choice made inevitable by India’s geography and reaffirmed by its history.

We are a land of rich diversities: I have observed in the past that we are all minorities in India. This land imposes no narrow conformities on its citizens: you can be many things and one thing. You can be a good Muslim, a good Keralite and a good Indian all at once. So the idea of India is of one land embracing many. It is the idea that a nation may endure differences of caste, creed, colour, culture, cuisine, conviction, costume and custom, and still rally around a democratic consensus. That consensus is around the simple principle that, in a democracy, you do not really need to agree – except on the ground rules of how you will disagree. Part of the reason for India being respected in the world is that it has survived all the stresses and strains that have beset it – and that led so many to predict its imminent disintegration – by maintaining consensus on how to manage without consensus.

The world of the 21st century will increasingly be a world in which the use of hard power carries with it the odium of mass global public disapproval, whereas the blossoming of soft power, which lends itself more easily to the information era, will constitute a country’s principal asset. Soft power is not about conquering others, but about being yourself. Increasingly, countries are judged by the soft-power elements they project onto the global consciousness – either deliberately (through the export of cultural products, the cultivation of foreign publics or even international propaganda) or unwittingly (through the ways in which they are perceived as a result of news stories about them in the global mass media).

India produces various kinds of culture, notably including the films of Bollywood, now reaching ever-wider international audiences. The triumph of Slumdog Millionaire at the 2009 Oscars both reflects and reinforces this trend. Bollywood is bringing its brand of glitzy entertainment not just to the Indian diaspora in the US, UK or Canada, but around the globe, to the screens of Syrians and Senegalese alike. A Senegalese friend told me of his illiterate mother who takes a bus to Dakar every month to watch a Bollywood film: she does not understand the Hindi dialogue, and cannot read the French subtitles, but these films are made to be understood despite such handicaps; she can still catch their spirit and understand the stories, and people like her look at India with stars in their eyes as a result. An Indian diplomat friend in Damascus a few years ago told me that the only publicly-displayed portraits in that city that were as big as those of then-President Hafez al-Assad were those of the Bollywood superstar Amitabh Bachchan. Indian art, classical music and dance have a similar effect. So does the work of Indian fashion designers, now striding across the world’s catwalks. Indian cuisine, spreading around the world, raises our culture higher in people’s reckoning; as the French have long known, the way to foreigners’ hearts is through their palates. The proliferation of Indian restaurants around the world has been little short of astonishing. In England today, Indian curry houses employ more people than the iron and steel, coal and shipbuilding industries combined. (So the Empire can strike back.)

Globalization has both sparked and allayed many Indians’ fears that economic liberalization will bring with it cultural imperialism of a particularly insidious kind – that Baywatch and burgers will supplant Bharatanatyam dances and bhelpuri snacks. Instead, India’s recent experience with Western consumer products demonstrates that we can drink Coca-Cola without becoming Coca-colonized. Indians will not become any less Indian if, in Mahatma Gandhi’s metaphor, we open the doors and windows of our country and let foreign winds blow through our house – because Indians are strong enough not to be blown off their feet by these winds. Our popular culture has proved resilient enough to compete successfully with MTV and McDonald’s. Besides, the strength of ‘Indianness’ lies in its ability to absorb foreign influences, and to transform them – by a peculiarly Indian alchemy – into something that belongs naturally on the soil of India.

Indeed, from the export of Bollywood to bhangra dances, India has demonstrated that it is a player in globalization, not merely a subject of it. India benefits from the future and the past – from the international appeal of its traditional practices (from ayurveda to yoga, both accelerating in popularity across the globe) and the transformed image of the country created by its thriving diaspora. Information technology has made its own contribution to India’s soft power. When Americans in Silicon Valley speak of the IITs (the Indian Institutes of Technology) with the same reverence that they used to accord to MIT, and the Indianness of engineers and software developers is taken as synonymous with mathematical and scientific excellence, it is India that gains in respect. Sometimes this has unintended consequences. I met an Indian the other day – a history major like me – who told me of transiting through Schiphol airport in Amsterdam and being accosted by an anxious European crying out: “You’re Indian! You’re Indian! Can you help me fix my laptop?” The old stereotype of Indians was that of snake-charmers and fakirs lying on beds of nails; now it is that every Indian must be a software guru or a computer geek.

In the information age, Joseph Nye has argued, it is often the side which has the better story that wins. India must remain the ‘land of the better story.’ As a society with a free press and a thriving mass media, with a people whose creative energies are daily encouraged to express themselves in a variety of appealing ways, India has an extraordinary ability to tell stories that are more persuasive and attractive than those of its rivals. This is not about propaganda; indeed, it will not work if it is directed from above, least of all by government. But its impact, though intangible, can be huge.

To take one example: Afghanistan is clearly a crucial country for India’s national security, as it is for the US’s. President Obama has spoken of reinforcing American and NATO military capacity there. But the most interesting asset for India in Afghanistan does not come out of a military mission: it does not have one. It comes, instead, from one simple fact: Do not try to telephone an Afghan at 8:30 in the evening. That is when the Indian TV soap opera Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi, dubbed into Dari, is telecast on Tolo TV, and no one wishes to miss it. It is reportedly the most popular television show in Afghan history (at least until the onset of Afghan Idol last year), considered directly responsible for a spike in the sale of generator sets, and even for absences from religious functions which clash with its broadcast times. (This has provoked visceral opposition to the show from the mullahs, who wish to shut it down). Saas has so thoroughly captured the public imagination in Afghanistan that, in this deeply conservative Islamic country where family problems are usually hidden behind the veil, it is an Indian TV show that has come to dominate society’s discussion of family issues. I have read reports of wedding banquets being interrupted so that the guests could huddle around the television for half an hour, and even of an increase in crime at 8:30pm because watchmen are sneaking a look at the TV, rather than minding the store. One Reuters dispatch recounted how robbers in Mazar-i-Sharif stripped a vehicle of its wheels and mirrors recently during the telecast time and wrote on the car, in an allusion to the show’s heroine, “Tulsi Zindabad” (long live Tulsi). That is soft power, and India does not have to thank the government or charge the taxpayer for its exercise. Instead, Indians too can simply say, “Tulsi Zindabad.”

Of course, official government policy can also play a role. Pavan Varma, the current head of the Indian Council on Cultural Relations, has argued that “culturally, India is a superpower,” and that cultural diplomacy must be pursued for political ends. So India is highly visible at cultural shows around the world, and the ICCR is rather good at organizing Festivals of India in assorted foreign cities. That is good, but I am not a fan of propaganda, which most people tend to see for what it is. I believe that the message that really gets through is that of who we are, not what we want to show.

For soft power is not just what we can deliberately and consciously exhibit or put on display; it is rather how others see what we are, whether or not we are trying to show it to the world. To take a totally different example: Politically, the sight in May 2004 – after the world’s largest exercise in democratic franchise (but then every Indian election is the world’s largest exercise in democratic franchise!) – of a leader of Roman Catholic background (Sonia Gandhi) making way for a Sikh (Manmohan Singh) to be sworn in as Prime Minister by a Muslim (President Abdul Kalam), in a country 81% Hindu, caught the world’s imagination and won its admiration. (I was travelling in the Gulf on behalf of the UN at the time, and the reactions of my Arab interlocutors to what had happened in India could not have been more gratifying).

So it is not just material accomplishments that enhance India’s soft power. Even more important are the values and principles for which India stands. After all, Mahatma Gandhi won India its independence through the use of soft power – because non-violence and satyagraha were indeed classic uses of soft power before the term was even coined. India’s first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, was also a skilled exponent of soft power: he developed a role for India in the world based entirely on its civilizational history and its moral standing, making India the voice of the oppressed and the marginalized against the big power hegemons of the day. This gave the country enormous standing and prestige across the world for some years, and strengthened our own self-respect as we stood – proud and independent – on the world stage. But the great flaw in Nehru’s approach was that his soft power was unrelated to any acquisition of hard power: as the humiliation of the military defeat by China in 1962 demonstrated, soft power has crippling limitations in national security terms. Instead of Theodore Roosevelt’s maxim, “speak softly and carry a big stick,” Nehru’s India spoke loudly, but had no stick at all. But in a tough neighbourhood, the rhetoric of peace can only take you so far. Soft power becomes credible when there is hard power behind it; that is why the US has been able to make so much of its soft power.

Recent Indian history offers a somewhat mixed picture when it comes to the effective use of hard power. The 1971 war with Pakistan, leading to the emergence of Bangladesh, remains the preeminent example, but there are few others – the repelling of Pakistani intruders from the Kargil heights in 1999, and a swift paratroop intervention in the Maldives to reverse a coup against President Gayoom in 1996, providing rare instances of hard power success. Against these examples are the said 1962 China war, the spectacular failures of the Indian Peacekeeping Force in Sri Lanka in 1987 (the Force withdrew after incurring heavy casualties in an unplanned war with the Tamil insurgents), the hijacking of an Indian Airlines aircraft to Kandahar in 1999, resulting in the craven release of detained terrorists from Indian jails, the repeated ‘bleeding’ of the country through terrorist incidents planned and directed from Pakistan, and innumerable unprovoked incidents on the Bangladesh border involving Indian loss of life. India is often caught in a cleft stick on such matters: it typically treads softly in its anxiety not to come across as a regional bully and, in so doing, it emboldens those who are prepared to test it. As a result, India has been noticeably reluctant to evolve a strategic doctrine based on hard power. Indeed, there is a sense in which most Indians still think that would be unseemly.

This helps explain India’s growing consciousness of its soft power – though, of course, New Delhi knows that its soft power cannot solve its security challenges. After all, an Islamist terrorist who enjoys a Bollywood movie will still have no compunction about setting off a bomb in a Delhi market, and the US has already learned that the perpetrators of 9/11 ate their last dinner at a Mc-Donald’s. To counter the terrorist threat, there is no substitute for hard power. Hard power without soft power stirs up resentments and enmities; soft power without hard power is a confession of weakness. Where soft power works is in attracting enough goodwill from ordinary people to reduce the sources of support and succour that the terrorists enjoy, and without which they cannot function.

But this means that India also needs to solve its internal problems before it can play any role of leadership in the world. We must ensure that we do enough to keep our people healthy, well-fed, and secure – not just from jihadi terrorism, but from the daily terror of poverty, hunger and ill health. Progress is being made: India can take satisfaction from its success in carrying out three kinds of revolutions in feeding its people – the ‘green revolution’ in food grains, the ‘white revolution’ in milk production and, at least to some degree, a ‘blue revolution’ in the development of our fisheries. But the benefits of these revolutions have not yet reached the third of our population still living below the poverty line. We must ensure that they do, or our soft power will ring hollow – at home and abroad.

At the same time, if India wants to be a source of attraction to others, it is not enough to attend to these basic needs. It must preserve the precious pluralism that is such a civilizational asset in our globalizing world. Our democracy, our thriving free media, our contentious civil society fora, our energetic human rights groups, and the repeated spectacle of our remarkable general elections, have all made of India a rare example of the successful management of diversity in the developing world. It adds to India’s soft power when its non-governmental organizations actively defend human rights, promote environmentalism, fight injustice. It is a vital asset that the Indian press is free, lively, irreverent, disdainful of sacred cows.

But every time there are reports of sectarian violence or a pogrom, like the savagery in Gujarat in 2002, or a nativist attack like those by a fringe group in February on women drinking at a pub in Mangalore, India suffers a huge setback to our soft power. Soft power will not come from a narrow or restricted version of Indianness, confined to the sectarian prejudices of some of the self-appointed guardians of Indian culture (‘Bharatiya Sanskriti’). It must instead proudly reflect the multi-religious identities of our people, our linguistic diversity and the myriad manifestations of our creative energies. India must maintain its true heritage in the eyes of the world.

And that will mean acknowledging that the central battle in contemporary Indian culture is that between those who, to borrow Walt Whitman’s phrase, acknowledge that we are vast – we contain multitudes – and those who have presumptuously taken it upon themselves to define (in increasingly narrow terms) what is ‘truly’ Indian. Pluralist India must, by definition, tolerate plural expressions of its many identities. To allow any self-appointed arbiters of Indian culture to impose their hypocrisy and double standards on the rest of us is to permit them to define Indianness down until it ceases to be Indian. To wield soft power, India must defend, assert and promote its culture of openness against the forces of intolerance and bigotry inside and outside the country.

It helps that India is anything but the unchanging land of timeless cliché. There is an extraordinary degree of change and ferment in our democracy. Dramatic transformations are taking place that amount to little short of an ongoing revolution – in politics, economics, society and culture. Both politics and caste relations have witnessed convulsive changes: who could have imagined – for 3,000 years – that a woman from the ‘untouchable’ community of outcastes (now called ‘Dalits’) would rule India’s largest state, Uttar Pradesh, as Kumari Mayawati now does with a secure majority? It is still true that in many parts of India, when you cast your vote, you vote your caste. But that too has brought about profound alterations in the country, as the lower castes have taken advantage of the ballot to seize electoral power.

These changes are little short of revolutionary. But the Indian revolution is a democratic one, sustained by a larger idea of India: an India that safeguards the common space available to each identity – an India that celebrates diversity. If America is a melting pot, then to me India is a thali – a selection of sumptuous dishes in different bowls. Each tastes different, and does not necessarily mix with the next, but they belong together on the same plate, and they complement each other in making the meal a satisfying repast.

India’s civilizational ethos has been an immeasurable asset for our country. It is essential that India not allow the spectre of religious intolerance and political opportunism to undermine the soft power which is its greatest asset in the world of the 21st century. Maintain that, and true leadership in our globalizing world – the kind that has to do with principles, values and standards – will follow.

This will require the more systematic development of a soft power strategy than India currently has. So far, such strategic advantages as have accrued from India’s soft power – goodwill for the country amongst African, Arab and Afghan publics, for instance – has been a largely unplanned byproduct of the normal emanations of Indian culture. Such goodwill has not been systematically harnessed as a strategic asset by New Delhi. It is ironic that, in and around the 2008 Olympics, authoritarian China showed a greater determination to use its hard-power strengths to cultivate a soft-power strategy for itself on the world stage. India will not need to try as hard, but it will need to do more than it currently does to lever its natural soft power into a valuable instrument of its global strategy.

I believe that the India that has entered its seventh decade as an independent country is one open to the contention of ideas and interests within it, unafraid of the prowess or the products of the outside world, wedded to the democratic pluralism that is India’s greatest strength, and determined to liberate and fulfill the creative energies of its people. Such an India truly enjoys soft power, and that may well be the most valuable way in which it can offer leadership to the 21st century world.

That may not be a bad thing. India’s last two governments each served a full term and presided over significant economic growth, even though they comprised 23 and 20 parties, respectively. Coalition politics gives representation to the myriad interests that make up a diverse and complex society, and ensures that the country as a whole accepts the policies ultimately adopted.

But coalition rule can also often mean governance of the lowest common denominator, as resistance by any of the government’s significant members to a policy can delay or even thwart it. In India’s parliamentary system, if a coalition loses its majority, the government falls, and keeping allies together can sometimes prove a greater priority than getting things done.

India’s national elections are really an aggregate of thirty different state elections, each influenced by its own local considerations, regional political currents, and different patterns of political incumbency. Soon after May 16, the largest single party that emerges will seek to construct a coalition out of a diverse array of victors from the various states.

Several outcomes are possible. The most likely is that Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s Indian National Congress, currently leading the government, emerges once again as the largest single party and assembles a new ruling coalition. The main alternative would be majority alliance put together by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), led by the 82-year-old Lal Krishna Advani.

But there is a third possibility: a motley collection of regional parties, together with the Communists, gets enough seats to prevent either of the two big parties from forming a government. In that case, a “hung parliament” could see a “third front” coming to power as a minority government, supported tactically by one of the big parties. This has happened before — and each time, the government that resulted fell within a year.

Each alternative could have serious implications for India. Though the big parties are broadly committed to continuing an economic policy of liberalization and growth, the BJP is mostly focused on the well-being of India’s merchant class, whereas Congress wishes to redistribute enhanced government revenues to the poor through generous social programs. The left, which would strongly influence any “third front” government, are staunchly opposed to economic liberalization and wish to strengthen, rather than dilute, India’s large public sector.

In foreign policy, India’s growing closeness with the United States under both the BJP and the Congress has proved controversial at home, with leftist parties threatening to scrap the Indo-US nuclear deal and break defense ties with Israel if they come to power.

Should the regional parties dominate the government, domestic politics would strongly impact India’s foreign policy: the anger of Tamil voters over events in Sri Lanka, or of Muslims over Gaza, would be reflected in the government and therefore constrain policy options. The BJP has promised a more hawkish security posture than Congress in the wake of the Mumbai terrorist attacks, but when it was in power it conducted itself remarkably similarly to its rival, initiating a peace process with Pakistan. The biggest differences among the various groupings consist in the tone and tenor of their respective visions of India. Congress remains a “big tent” party, committed to preserving India’s pluralism and conscious of the multiple identities and interests of India’s many peoples. The BJP, which accuses Congress of “appeasing” India’s minorities, hews to a staunchly Hindu-chauvinist line, and has received support from some of the most bigoted and intolerant sections of Indian society.

The “third front” involves assorted petty particularisms — parties representing the sectarian interests of specific castes, sub-regions, or linguistic groups. The danger is that such groups could accentuate the divisions of a fractious society, rather than pull everyone together in the collective national interest. That would be a startling change from five years ago. The 2004 elections were won by the Congress party, led by a woman political leader of Roman Catholic faith and Italian descent (Sonia Gandhi), who made way for a Sikh prime minister (Manmohan Singh) to be sworn by a Muslim (President Abdul Kalam) in a country that is 81% Hindu. That single moment captured much of what elections have meant for this diverse democracy.

But the ultimate reality will remain that of a coalition government trying to make progress in a contentious polity. In India, policy changes require political consensus within the ruling coalition, labor laws are strongly defended by unions and political parties, and controversial decisions can be challenged on the streets, in the courts, and ultimately at the polls. Necessary policy reforms advocated by a ruling party are often held hostage to the prejudices of its allies.

So change comes slowly. But it does come, and once a policy consensus has been established, it tends to be durable. Indian democracy has often been likened to the stately progress of the elephant — ponderous in its gait and reluctant to change course, but not easily swayed from its new path when it does.

The elephant of Indian democracy will acquire a new set of mahouts before the month’s end. Who they are will have a major impact on the fortunes and prospects of one-sixth of humanity. That alone makes the election results due on May 16 worth the world’s attention.

But one of the things that intrigues me is the extent to which corruption is a middle-class preoccupation, when in fact the biggest victims of corruption in our country are in fact the poor. For the affluent, corruption is at worst a nuisance; for the salaried middle-class, it can be an indignity and a burden; but for the poor, it is often a tragedy.

The saddest corruption stories I have heard are those where corruption literally transforms lives for the worse. There are stories about the pregnant woman turned away from a government hospital because she couldn’t bribe her way to a bed; the labourer denied an allotment of land that was his due because someone else bribed the patwari to change the land records; the pensioner denied the rightful fruits of decades of toil because he couldn’t or wouldn’t bribe the petty clerk to process his paperwork; the wretchedly poor unable to procure the BPL ["Below Poverty Line"] cards that certify their entitlement to various government schemes and subsidies because they couldn’t afford to bribe the issuing officer; the poor widow cheated of an insurance settlement because she couldn’t grease the right palms … the examples are endless. Each of these represents not just an injustice, but a crime, and yet the officials responsible get away with their exactions all the time. And all their victims are people living at or near a poverty line that’s been drawn just this side of the funeral pyre.

One of the reasons that I was an early supporter of economic liberalization in India was that I hoped it would reduce corruption by denying officialdom the opportunity (afforded routinely by our license-quota-permit raj) to profit from the power to permit. That has happened to some degree, especially at the big-business level. But I underestimated the creativity of petty corruption in India that leeches blood from the veins of the poorest and most downtrodden in our society. No one seems to be able to do anything about it, but I’d like to try. I’d welcome any ideas readers might have to set me on my way.

Well, it shouldn’t. No civilized democracy conducts or condones torture, whether of its citizens or others. The police may have fallen into the pattern of routinely continuing practices left over from colonial days, when police were instruments of repression, but that’s no excuse today. Mistreating any member of the public is in fact against the law in democratic India, and any policeman who behaves as the cops in the movie did are liable to seven years’ rigorous imprisonment. But, as the screenwriters assumed, it seems to happen anyway, and unless society rises up in anger against this kind of police behaviour, it may well continue.

Torture is wrong. It’s morally unacceptable, legally unjustifiable, and practically ineffective. It shouldn’t be allowed to happen anywhere in India. And if and where it does, it has nothing to do with the kind of India our leaders are trying to build in the 21st century.

It’s time for every thinking Indian to stand up and raise our voices against the practice. Torture must stop. And the next time a movie shows an Indian policeman resorting to torture, I hope it also shows him being tried and sentenced for it. That may be the only way to bring about the shift in attitudes we need to ensure that torture has no place in our society – or on our screens.