Every time I see images of Narendra Modi surrounded by acolytes sweeping a rubbish-strewn pavement, I ask myself if this drama doesn’t reduce an essential function of civilised life to political tamasha that no one takes seriously. The Prime Minister’s call for cleanliness is necessary and deserves support. But if it is to be effective, cleaning must again be integrated into the daily routine. Spurts of showmanship can soon run out of steam.
Mr Modi must attend to other matters of national and international importance. With all the goodwill in the world, stellar figures like Priyanka Chopra, Aamir Khan and Sachin Tendulkar will not make scrubbing lavatory pans their prime vocation. Mr Modi rightly told the US-India Business Council that it isn’t the government’s business to run a business. Each section of society has its apportioned duty. Just as governments make a mess of business, inspired amateurs can’t produce sparkling bathrooms by usurping the duties of those whose profession is to sweep and swab.
The defence ministry official who was quoted as saying he and his colleagues “are all buying brooms to clean up the bathrooms” should be told their bathrooms will become even dirtier while the country’s security will be neglected if instead of guarding the borders, defence officials get to work with brooms. Surely no Indian can forget 1962 when it was revealed that the defence ministry was engaged in making kettles and cookers?
That was Krishna Menon’s folly. Now, it’s a manifestation of political sycophancy. In their race to prove their loyalty,
Mr Modi’s ministers have taken to sending out inane messages that expose their own paucity of thought. Reminding recipients that “Hon’ble PM, Sh. Narendra Modi has called for a Swacch Bharat”, an SMS from “D. Pradhan, minister of state, MoPNG” urges, “Ao Milkar haath badhaayein reads, Swachh Bharat banaayein!” I have also received an email from the urban development ministry which doesn’t mention Venkaiah Naidu, the minister, but indulges in meaningless jargon. For example, “LocalCircles (one word) takes Social Media to the next level and makes it about Communities, Governance and Utility.” Mr Naidu can boast to his boss of having enlisted 172,961 members. His message talks abstrusely of “Neighbourhood, Constituency, City, Government, Causes, Interests and Needs”, to end with a resounding “Together, let us make it a SWACHH BHARAT!”
Amen to that, I say. But I can’t understand why a Prime Minister who is understandably proud of heading the first government with an absolute majority in 30 years doesn’t use his authority to force existing armies of jamadars — or safai karamcharis — to do the job for which they are paid. They should be obliged to earn their wages by keeping clean the offices, institutions and public places that are their responsibility. They would be far more effective at it than Anil Ambani or Salman Khan, two other celebrities invited to join in.
As a boy in what was then Calcutta, I would wake up at daybreak to the sound of brooms on the tarmac followed by the whoosh of water washing the roads clean. The water hydrants long ago dried up but I was told some years ago that those armies of municipal sweepers still drew their salaries and the maximum possible overtime. Apparently, their uniforms, brooms, hose pipes and other implements of cleaning were also still shown as expenses. As loyal Marxists, they were a privileged breed. Perhaps they are now loyal to the Trinamul Congress.
Mr Modi is trying to give the campaign a religious dimension by invoking Mahatma Gandhi and trying to rope in sundry mutts, mahants and missions. Perhaps this is a reflection of his own piety. Perhaps he genuinely believes that Indians respond best to the call of the gods. We make heavy weather of spirituality. But the faith of the masses is only as deep as convenience allows.
A neighbour of mine has plastered the outside walls of his bungalow with glossy tiles of gods and goddesses to discourage urinating. I watch passers-by finding secular spaces between deities to relieve themselves. Reports indicate Baba Ramdev hasn’t responded to Mr Modi’s invitation.
Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi didn’t treat cleanliness as a fetish or a fashion. He was revolted to find the Kashi Vishwanath temple in Benares so filthy. But he took a holistic view of the problem of why “the lanes of our sacred temple should be as dirty as they are”. He recognised that “the houses round about (temples) are built anyhow”. He admitted “the lanes are tortuous and narrow”. He acknowledged that “temples are not models of roominess and cleanliness”. What Gandhi wouldn’t bring himself to say — possibly because of his deep faith in mankind — was that apart from structural defects, India is dirty because of the dirty habits of Indians. Even the ritual cleanliness that is talked of so much doesn’t always translate into hygienic practice.
That is one task no government committed to cleanliness can shy away from. Only armies of health inspectors with the power and will to punish offenders can stop people from defecating and urinating in public, spitting wherever they wish, and blowing their noses and wiping the snot on the nearest wall. But reform can’t be restricted to private behaviour. Our abattoirs are disgustingly filthy, food bazaars are awash with slush and scraps, railway kitchens are grimy beyond belief. All this goes unnoticed because public dirt replicates the dirtiness of private lives.
Changing that will be a long and painful haul. But at least a start can be made by ensuring that cleaners do their job. With all respect to the Prime Minister, they can do it better than he and his broom-wielding celebrities.
The writer is a senior journalist, columnist
and author
