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Thursday, 16 July 2020 00:00 - - {{hitsCtrl.values.hits}}
Chutti, wiry with an unkempt drawn face with large furtive eyes, known as a ‘kudu karaya’ in the neighbourhood, is also an odd-job man, handy when regular labour is difficult to find. Although he readily confesses to taking arrack regularly ‘to relieve his aching muscles in the evening’, I have not seen him with drugs, a habit more likely to be indulged in private.
My garden needs regular attention, and Chutti is a willing worker, trimming the overgrown branches, cutting the grass, and raking the garden clean in an hour or two, working unsupervised, efficient and thorough. On and off, after he had left the premises, I have found things missing from the garden: a pair of rubber slippers, a short hose, and some garden utensils – pinched and perhaps sold cheaply to feed his addiction. Chutti is a likable rogue, and the occasional stealing of used oddments of only little value was compensated by his commitment to his job; had I employed an itinerant gardener, the work would stretch for half a day, with constant supervision required.
With the monsoon rains breaking, the garden grows fast and wild. But where is Chutti? Once I saw him travelling in a three-wheeler, wearing a new t-shirt with a purposeful air. Then, he went missing again for a number of days, until I chanced upon him at a nearby boutique. I asked him where he had been these past few weeks.
Chutti explained, rather self-consciously, that he is involved in the on-going election campaign of a well-known Parliamentarian, a one-time Minister, Mr. ’X’ to us. I asked him what he was doing in the three-wheeler. He was distributing leaflets and posters for Mr. X: “I have to cover Colombo 4 and 5.”
Mr. X had a reputation for corruption, the scope of which was clearly outside of Chutti’s consciousness. In days gone by, politicians would demand bribes from constituents wanting favours. Chutti could relate to this culturally-sanctified practice: something must be given in return for the favour! His outlook was formed through brushes with law enforcement, various dealings with village headmen, and lower ranks of public servants. But Mr X was a modern man; the old ways of collecting small tributes from the voters was tedious as well as counter-productive. Now there are many ways of collecting money, a lot more of it, and these were by and large outside of the public eye.
Nearly every Government contract or procurement provides opportunities for the decision-makers. Businessmen and developers are more than ready to win these lucrative and padded contracts, any foul way. For doing his official work, the work he was elected to do, the political decision-maker is rewarded richly. Sometimes, they also serve those who just wait. Even without soliciting, ‘campaign money’ flows in.
The new money and the self-made systems empower the politician like never before. Now he could rather than receive, give bribes to the voter, who is commonly described in his speeches as poor and innocent (‘ahinsaka and duppath’). By their common prevalence, practices like vote buying, fixing contracts, receiving kickbacks, and abusing public assets have become near-legitimised. It was the general opinion that Mr. X indulged in every form of political abuse.
To start with, he was not a rich man. Later, Mr. X acquired some commercial properties (considering the size and makeup of these properties, the income they gave could only be modest); and now for nearly two decades has been immersed in politics, yet he was visibly wealthy. Apparently, two of his children were studying overseas, in a developed Western country. It was said that he had to visit Singapore regularly to attend to his ‘banking’ matters.
Adept at extracting every benefit from the system, the former Minister missed no opportunity for foreign travel, regularly flying to the major cities of the world, presumably to advance the country’s cause. “We have to keep up with global trends,” he would often say. If Chutti had no consciousness of the true nature of the Minister’s corruption, he lives in another planet where perks and pleasures of the Minister are considered. That rich rewards await the chosen may be judged from the clamour to get elected.
Whether the system will deliver, whether the social/cultural basis for a modern society exists, whether the requisite human resources are available, remains open and unanswered. Those inclined to go along with the status quo will point to the undeniable progress made in the past seventy years; the country is much advanced from the very basic conditions of 1948. The less phlegmatic will be more demanding, arguing that every country on the planet has progressed in these seven decades. However, relative to other countries seventy years ago, we are near-stagnant, if not lagging behind. In nearly every social/economic index, our position is among the average. Most countries, particularly in Asia, have progressed further, and are much richer and stronger today.
As difficult as his circumstances were, Chutti had no difficulty in earning a daily income. There is a demand for the services he offered. But those services were not socially respected, considered lowly labour by a deep-seated mentality abhorring any physical exertion. By associating with a political campaign he had raised himself to a man dabbling in big ideas, a ‘white-collar’ occupation, wordy and exhilarating.
Even for the few days where the political campaign had brought two worlds together, Mr X and Chutti were one, one cause, one aim.
Despite himself, Chutti felt compelled to explain his foray into politics. “We cannot let corruption rule!” That could not have been an idea of Chutti. He had picked the slogan up from either a leaflet he was distributing or had heard it from a platform speech. It would have sounded good to him, and he had made it his motto – “we cannot let corruption rule.”