The Indian middle class is striking back

The average Indian from the urban middle class does not have much to do with the police, or rather does not want much to do with the police. The general perception is that the police forces are corrupt and inefficient and it is best not to get mixed up with them.

Though the police have fine officers and men who are honest and smart, no one wants to take a chance. Very few may have actually visited a police station and even less may want to, unless there is no choice. If a citizen sees an accident, his first reaction is to shrug and move on because getting embroiled with the entire process, which will include police questioning, is a frightening prospect.

The recent case involving Rahul Bhatt and his colleague has confirmed these fears. Both voluntarily went to the police with information about their dealings with David Headley, but soon the impression was created that both were suspects for this association. The police did little to clarify the matter. The message, in short, is, talk to the police at your own peril.

How venal the exercise of power is, is apparent in the revelations in the Ruchika suicide case. A young 14-year-old girl takes her own life three years after she is molested by a senior police officer. During that period, her family is harassed, her teenage brother is beaten up by cops, and false cases are slapped against him. Members of the political and bureaucratic establishment refuse to entertain the complaints of the girl's parents. The main accused, SPS Rathore, a top level officer, continues to get his promotions and medals and ensures that no scandal touches him — he has powerful political connections.

But 19 years of fighting later, the courts finally deliver justice and hold Rathore guilty of molestation and sentence him to six months' imprisonment. The bigger charge of abetment of suicide, which could attract tougher punishment, was dropped and Ruchika's parents will now fight for it, but even this victory is no small achievement. It represents a growing trend, of the small, middle-class man taking on power structures.

Time was when even decent, law-abiding citizens chose the more practical option of keeping quiet and swallowing their humiliation rather than picking up a fight they felt they were sure to lose. The bureaucracy, the political class, and the justice system was too heavily loaded against the average citizen — the film Saaransh captured that beautifully. Unless you actually knew someone from within the power citadel, you could not hope to get your voice heard.

Influence, connections, contacts, networks — these were the way to get things actually done. In a shortage economy, this could mean everything from getting a gas connection to a railway ticket to getting the police to take an interest in your case. If you ran afoul of someone, you were on your own.

Liberalisation began changing things, slowly but perceptibly. For one thing, goods and services became freely available and were no longer a government monopoly. The cellphone was the great liberator — it freed everyone from the tyranny of the telephone department. Job opportunities increased, incomes went up, and the middle classes began getting more confidence.

The explosion in the mass media fuelled this confidence even more. Television news channels focused on issues of concern to the middle classes, who were their biggest viewers and consumers, and the internet spread the news further. Once that happened, the elected representatives as well as civil servants could no longer hide; they were made more accountable in the most public way.

Though most battles have been fought by brave, middle-class people on their own, quietly and anonymously, the media, by picking those stories up, has acted as a kind of moral force multiplier. The Uphaar fire, Nitish Katara's murder, Jessica Lal's killing and now Ruchika's suicide; all became media stories which put pressure on the authorities to act, and act speedily and justly.

Ruchika's parents had lost heart after they were harassed. It was left to their friends to continue the fight against Rathore; today Ruchika’s father is talking about prosecuting Rathore further. Any victim today feels more assured that he or she, however powerless otherwise, can fight for justice and hope to get it. Additionally, the citizen has the media, the courts, and even the Right to Information as allies.

Of course, we have a long way to go before the citizen is truly empowered. This new-found confidence is limited to the educated, professional class which knows how to leverage the weapons at its disposal. The poor and the uneducated are still at the mercy of the system, which is heavily loaded against them. The policeman for a poor Indian still represents tyranny and abuse of power rather than a friend or ally. The courts are not easy to access either and the bureaucracy is unresponsive. It is also a sad fact that the media is largely uninterested in the poor except as an abstract concept; we get stories about poverty rather than about poor people.

But things are changing. A generation ago, even the middle-class was caught in a hapless situation, weak and helpless against the power structures. Today the balance of power is gradually shifting. Soon, more and more people will realise that they deserve answers and accountability. The victory of the ordinary citizen — like that of Ruchika's parents — will undoubtedly inspire others to fight for their rights. The middle-class now knows that if it gets angry, someone will sit up and take notice.