India: Mobocracy, Democracy, or Republic?

While we celebrate Republic Day with great gusto and fanfare, are we really a great republic? The answer to that question, of course, depends on what we mean by republic. The common understanding is that a republic, derived from the Latin respublica (res ‘entity’ + publicus ‘of the people, public’), is ruled not by a king but by the public. It is thus a state governed by elected representatives, not hereditary monarchs, not by decree or dogma, but according to the rule of law.

Apparently, about 150 of the over 200 sovereign states of the world — almost three-fourths — have the word “republic” in their official names. But does that mean that they are really republics? Not really. Many are ruled by despots and dictators, a couple even by elected monarchs, which sounds like a contradiction in terms. Several states, including Pakistan, which first instituted the term in 1956, and Iran after the revolution, call themselves Islamic republics. In India, it was dharma that was supposed to rule, with the king or elected ruler, merely its representative or administrator.

At the beginning of the last century, only two of Europe’s larger states, France and Switzerland were republics; a hundred years later, very few remained monarchies. Even these are merely monarchies in name, with power vested quite firmly in elected representatives. But unlike the common perception, republic is not synonymous with democracy; some of the world’s great democracies including Britain, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and Japan are not republics, but constitutional monarchies. Even Canada and Australia, the latter with compulsory voting, are not republics. Along with fourteen other former British colonies, their constitutional head is the British monarch, who is unelected and hereditary.

To understand the difference between a democracy and a republic, we have to go back to Plato’s Republic. In Book VIII, Socrates discusses various forms of government such as aristocracy, timocracy (rule by military commanders), oligarchy, and democracy, arguing that they all eventually decay into tyranny. Democracy was rule by the mob. A demagogue, exploiting the fears and desires  of the masses through a clever use of populism, could grab absolute power. According to Plato, the ideal state, the imaginary Kallipolis, was ruled by a philosopher-king, quite ironic for a book called Republic.

Modern commentators have remarked that in a democracy, the majority can overwhelm or overrun the minority. In a republic, on the other hand, minority rights are protected and inalienable; justice is guaranteed to all. In a direct democracy, the people have an unmediated voice in all matters that concern them. In a republic, however, power is intermediated through elected representatives, who may or may not do what is right for the people. A philosopher-king, on the other hand, would be expected not only to express the wishes of the public, but ensure what is truly just and good, without considerations of personal gain, loss, or maintenance of power.

But the key difference between a democracy and a republic is the idea of civic virtue. In Aristotle’s Politics, a citizen’s duties are emphasised more than rights. If we look at today’s India, the idea of fundamental duties, though added to the Preamble of the Constitution in 1976, are almost entirely forgotten. Instead, we have a political and civic culture of demands and entitlements. Even at the micro-level, it is identity politics that dominates public discourse. The larger common or national good is easily forgotten, with different factions battling it out for more privilege and patronage.

No wonder President Pranab Mukherjee in his Republic Day address quoted Mahatma Gandhi: “The highest form of freedom carries with it the greatest measure of discipline and humility.” He was stressing civic duties over individual freedoms. Confucianism, dharmic nationalism, liberalism, and socialism are examples of ideologies which have corresponding civic virtues. Yet, whatever our ideology, we seem to neglect its corresponding duties.

The fact is that to become great republic, we Indians would need to demonstrate much greater commitment to virtues of citizenship. We would have to give much more back to society and nation than we are, at present, willing to. We would need to take much greater responsibility for the welfare of others, sometimes putting it above our individual or group interests. Instead, we take our freedom for granted, forgetting how hard-won it was, paid in blood, sweat, and tears by millions of Indians over several generations. The horrors of bondage and servitude are well-nigh forgotten.

By and large, we want to do nothing for our country or society, but have become selfish and callous instead. A nation of users and losers earns little success at home or respect abroad. India is not just a place to feather our own nests, exploiting the resources of the land and the cheap labour of the masses. It is a nation, nay a civilization, trying to regain itself after centuries of privation and subjugation. Only a widespread participation in social awakening and nation-building can truly earn us the title of a republic.

But this is not going to happen overnight. What is needed is greater mutual trust and support between the governing and the governed, the rulers and the ruled. Pride and confidence in our abilities to solve our problems, make a difference, and create a more prosperous, just, and harmonious India are crucial to this process. In short, nothing short of a total and willing transformation of our public culture is needed for us to become a great republic.

The author is a poet and professor at JNU, New Delhi