By SWAPAN DASGUPTA
Times of India, 27 Jan 2008
There are two interesting facets of a state visit to India by a British dignitary, be it royal or commoner. The first is the sight of the Union Jack fluttering all along Rajpath — a sight fairly uncommon in England and an absolute rarity in Scotland. The second is the dreary question a lazy media loves asking: Is India still inflicted by a colonial hangover?
The term ‘‘hangover’’ is a misnomer since it denotes an unpleasant morning after a pleasurable night-before. Regardless of the awe and veneration with which Britons were regarded by those who, ironically, fought for freedom, most young Indians have flushed colonialism out of their system. There remains a keen interest, even fascination, for the West, particularly the US. Some of us even see London as the perfect home away from home, a comfort zone in alien Europe. But, as prime minister Gordon Brown should have gauged during his brief visit, there is no meaningful special relationship any more with the erstwhile ‘‘mother country’’. Even the remaining ‘‘coconut’’ enclaves face extinction.
To those who view the 190 years between Plassey and Independence as the Dark Ages, this exorcism was inevitable. Yet, despite all the tripe that the history text books dish out, Indians have shown no extreme antipathy for the colonial experience. Compared to the deep hatred in the popular Hindu imagination for, say, Mahmud of Ghazni and Aurangzeb, posterity has been relatively kind to British rule. There was always an innate respect for British-moulded institutions; in recent times this has extended to an appreciation for colonial aesthetics.
Why hasn’t this sneaking admiration translated into a love for what today’s Britain stands for?
Indians who have been out on the town on a Friday night in a British city often ask: are these the same people who just 60 years ago presided over the largest empire in history? It is not merely the public show of loutish drunkenness that conflict with our mental stereotype of the British. Almost every virtue we associated with our former rulers — exemplary restraint; commitment to hard work, thrift and enterprise; a level-headed approach to adversity; and unflinching national pride — has been thrown into the dustbin of history.
In just six decades, Britain has redefined its national character. Britishness is now personified in the ‘‘democratic’’ culture of the pub, the football stands, the tabloids and binge holidays on the Costa del Sol. No wonder the British home secretary has admitted that it is dangerous for a woman to go out late at night in London. In 60 years, Britain has moved from Caesar to Caligula.
The decline has rubbed off in strange ways. Suffering from post-colonial guilt, Britain is now in a tearing hurry to reject every aspect of its past. Apologising for past excesses has been presented as a way to make the country more ‘‘inclusive’’ and ‘‘multicultural’’. From being a strong and somewhat arrogant power, Britain has sought to refashion itself as a good power, committed to noble ideals like fighting greenhouse emissions, downgrading excellence and promoting curry. The result is unintended: it is perceived as cringing, grovelling and, at the same time, patronising.
In India, this image makeover has been ridiculed. Britain had been associated with smooth talking hard-headedness. In packaging itself as the benefactor of self-empowered women’s groups, pesky NGOs and environmental activists, it has adopted a role associated with pious but irrelevant Scandinavians.
If Pakistan is an example of a failed state, Britain is a curious example of a faltering society. There is a lesson in it for us. Unless political liberalism is supplemented by robust and rooted social values, a nation can easily lose its head.
