The Outsider

by Harish Gupta, National Editor, Lokmat Group

Prime Minister Narendra Modi's 65-minute speech from the ramparts of Red Fort on Independence Day last week will be remembered, if at all, for the jolt it gave to the political class. Many of its members had assumed that, despite his being a rather crotchety guy, he's in the arena of politics after all and therefore it'd soon become 'business as usual'. Modi's speech and his style said it would not be so.

The Prime Minister's distinctive approach to his role vis-a-vis his countrymen was evident from the beginning. The bullet-proof glass box that his successive predecessors had used to speak from was done away with. It was a touching act of faith, a bold way of telling the immediate audience as well as tele-viewers that he'd not let security come between him and the people. But even more distinctive was the fact that the speech was impromptu, a departure from goodness knows how many years' tradition.

As the words welled up from his heart, the arms naturally flailed, the head rotated to keep pace with thought, and, free from the structure that speech-writers at the PMO impose on such ceremonial occasions, making them anemic, his words were like a conversation by the fireside, crackling with earthy humour and a lot of plainspokenness. He broke the mould successfully. While brilliantly turning a reference to Mahatma Gandhi into a promise to build toilets for girls in every school, he said in an aside if his audience was wondering "why the Prime Minister is talking about toilets on such a solemn occasion"!

However, conventional politicians cannot but be worried by his candour, laced with aggression and contempt. He ridiculed the mindset of the populace that is apparently worried about women's security but doesn't give much thought to their "sons" who have become depraved and molesting women. He pointed at the bitter infighting that marked the Central Government before him, "with one department taking another to the Supreme Court". He said "I am an outsider, but the last two months have given me an insider view of the parallel governments here". He took a dig at the pampered bureaucracy that thinks it is doing a favour by coming to work on time. He asked MPs and MLAs to use their MPLAD funds to create model villages which can serve as role model to the neighbouring areas. He was quick, and least apologetic, in announcing a dramatic break from the past-the imminent closure of the 64-year-old Planning Commission. He called the Soviet-style behemoth "a very old" system that would cost much less to replace than rejuvenate".

The subtext of sarcasm in the remark could not have been lost on the fans of Jawaharlal Nehru, the first Prime Minister and founder of the Commission, amidst the crowd. When he lamented the mess all around, with the people falling behind in realising their true potential, his complaint was not directed at any individual, or party, but was overarching. "When given a task, people first ask: what's in it for me? If there's nothing for him (and everything for the nation), he'll fret: why should I be in it then?"

It will be a mistake to think that Modi is just another cynical man, like any other public intellectual in Lutyen's Delhi, who is ready with the problem if you give him a solution. He's clearly thinking of welfare in a different way from UPA's trademark doles to the poor. Modi promised a whopping financial inclusion plan, Jan Dhan Yojana, which provides insurance cover of one lakh rupees to millions of poor persons. The additional gain from it is that it opens up an opportunity to bring a rich slice of India's 50-crore unbanked population into the ambit of banking service. This is the first step for switching over from the inefficient and corruption-ridden Public Distribution System of welfare benefits to Direct Cash Transfer-a long-standing refrain in the reformist literature.

How can cash be directly transferred until the beneficiary gets a bank account? The next focus of his agenda is on skills development, which again is linked to his emphasis on manufacturing. It is in this context that his appeal to manufacturers-"Make in India"-may become a controversial catchword. How does one propose to 'make' anything in India as long as its work-force remains skill-poor, its labour laws continue to be antiquated, its infrastructure rotten, and the cost of finance stays steep. But instead of quibbling over what comes first, chicken or egg, Modi has gone one step ahead in reminding investors, foreign and domestic, that they must respond to his cleaning-up efforts.

Modi’s speech reminds the tragic

last Mughal, Bahadur Shah Zafar,

sent in exile, never to return.

Similarly, his promise of a high-speed digital backbone was both an assurance and a reminder. An extensive network of optical fibre highways can trigger a revolution in IT-enabled services for both domestic use and export and be the harbinger to a second wave of IT revolution. It can create millions of new white collar jobs and give a new fillip to India's export earnings in the IT and ITES sector.

However, yet another crucial issue hings on the digital super-highway. It is of the much discussed Goods and services Tax, which alone can make the distribution of revenues between the Center and the states equitable and transparent. In order words, GST is the fiscal passport to federalism, the absence of which is complained about by all state leaders.

After Independence, Nehru chose the ramparts of Red Fort as the venue for 15 August speech by prime minister with a remarkable sense of history. The red sandstone building symbolished the pre-British India of the Mughals. But Modi's unorthodox and candid worlds put India's records of the past 67 years in a light which is both quizzical and ironic. It drew a bitter parallel between the previous speakers from the rampart, and the tragic last Mughal, Bahadur Shah Zafar, whose effete reign ended in 1857  before he was dethroned and set in exile, never to return.

The Author is

national editor of

Lokmat Group