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Learning from the Ground
Ponna Wignaraja, Harsh Sethi,
Akmal Hussain and Ganeshan Wignaraja
EXPERIENTIAL LEARNING
The different case studies selected for inclusion in this book refer
to action on the ground, not only in the different countries of the
region, but also with different strata of the population. Within
dominantly agrarian societies, a crucial problem faced by the mass
of petty producers relates to the cornering of their already
miniscule surplus by traders and moneylenders. S P
Wickremaarachchi’s paper deals with the story of a sensitive
intervention process initiated by the action-researchers of PIDA in
Sri Lanka. What the PIDA work process demonstrates is that if the
petty producers can be facilitated to collectively analyse their
reality and act together, they can not only generate the needed
resources as capital, but by collectively marketing their produce,
they can reduce the trade leakages and substantially strengthen
their position, both individually and as a class. The PIDA case also
demonstrates the possibility of creating conditions that help set
into motion an accumulation process, a raising of collective saving
and investment levels, the lack of which our planners are
constantly bemoaning. In fact, what appears as essentially an
economic strategy has major political implications, because any
decline in the power of the moneylenders and traders releases the
fetters on the overall productive process. Equally important, such
processes engender the seeds of collectivism, a tradition that the
modern mercantile and capitalist process has substantially eroded
in our part of the world.
But even with increasing parts of the surplus being retained with
the producers, the overall insecurity of the poorer agrarian
population remains. The Grameen Bank, an innovative credit
programme in Bangladesh, has in the last few years, managed to 356
associate thousands of poor peasants, labourers and pettytraders—both
men and women—with a system where inexpensive
credit is made available on a grow-guarantee basis. Even those
without any assets to offer as collateral—thus outside the pale of
all normal banking operations—now have an avenue for credit
other than the local moneylender. More important, the GB
intervention is not limited to credit alone. The system of groupguarantee
implies the necessary formation of an organization,
whether formal or informal, for the group members to meet and
discuss their various problems on a regular basis. Expectedly, this
has led to many a small collective action on the ground.
Atiur Rahman’s paper analyses the coping mechanisms of the poor
in Bangladesh to the different natural calamities that periodically
befall them. Through evolving a classification system that takes
ecology, type of natural disaster and the class position of the victim
into account, Rahman, through a concrete analysis of the floods
and typhoons of 1987 and 1988 demonstrates that those who were
protected by the Grameen Bank safety net managed to cope much
better with the disasters. This was partly due to their earlier
improved asset position, but equally, because of an innovative and
humanitarian response by the activists of the Grameen Bank. But
most important, what Rahman demonstrates is the value of selfreliant
efforts over pure relief and charity. Very few of the people
associated with the GB programme were looking for handouts.
What they preferred were loans to help them get back on their feet
through a developmental response. In a country, routinely
described as a basket case and a begging bowl, such a
transformation, even in one micro-level response which has gone
to scale, is truly spectacular.
Nevertheless, Rahman while being appreciative of the work of the
Grameen Bank refers to the constraints imposed by the political
structure and official policies. Coping with natural disasters may
well take place locally, but a reduction in their intensity or
frequency can take place only through the development of an
appropriate technology system—from evoling early warning
systems, developing a code of conduct for disaster management, to
initiating land development exercises where the impact of floods or
droughts could be minimized. This, as Rahman argues, can take 357
place only if political power shifts into the hands of the people,
agencies and classes who do not have narrow sectarian interests.
The problem of the disarticulation of the poor, their fragmentation
into warring strata, the insecurity occasioned by their surpluses
being appropriated by an oppressive elite, affects not just the rural
poor but is equally evident in our urban settings into which the
poor migrate. In an effort to escape the dragnet of oppressive rural
social conditions, they land up in urban shanty towns—a feature
characteristic of all our cities. And here, while they may well find
jobs or income-earning opportunities denied to them in rural
settings, they face the problem of habitat as survival.
Land, at least legally, is just not available at affordable prices to
the urban poor. So they squat wherever they find space—on
pavements, private or state-owned land. Often evicted and
bulldozed they get pushed to the urban periphery where they settle,
again possibly illegally. Almost never are they covered by the
institutional services ‘theoretically’ offered by the urban
development agencies. Poor quality and inadequate shelter then
gets accentuated by overcrowding, a lack of sanitation and health
services, illiteracy and ignorance—all a veritable breeding ground
for the growth of criminality.
Karachi, Pakistan’s largest metropolis, is no exception to this
general process of slummiflcation. It is in one such settlement, a
katchi abadi in local lexicon, that Akthar Hameed Khan, better
known as the father of the Comilla Experiment, a forerunner of the
Community Development efforts of the sixties, initiated the Orangi
Pilot Programme. He started with a focus on sanitation—
demonstrating the technical, social, organizational and financial
feasibility of extending sanitation coverage from flush latrines in
the house, to systems of waste collection and disposal, for the
settlement as a whole. Central to the Orangi process was breaking
through the barriers of distrust that all marginalized oppressed
construct around themselves. Once the residents of Orangi saw the
architects and social workers as genuinely concerned people,
understood the technical aspects of design and work, saw that the
costs involved were low and manageable, they were willing to
organize themselves for action.
Undoubtedly, the fact that better sanitation was in the interest of
all, and that the intervention was not seen as politically explosive, 358
helped. Also, once the local organizations (the lane committees)
were in place, it became possible to talk of other issues related to
health and education, involvement of women in activities outside
the home, and schemes for a general economic upgrading of the
families involved. In just a few years since its inception, the OPP
has made significant beginnings in all these domains.
Orangi, is in many ways a microcosm of Karachi, a multi-ethnic
settlement being ripped apart by rapid change, age-old prejudices
and conflicts exacerbated by the inflow of drugs and weapons. No
matter how sensitive and committed the work, the environment has
a way of corroding all effort. Like Rahman, Akthar Hameed Khan,
too, is left with the question of the macro- political, the OPP
process caught within the binds of larger policies to which it can
partially respond but over which it exercises little control. Even so,
in the case of the garment workers, it was able to create self
employment cost-effectively.
In a manner of speaking this is what revolutionary attempts have
all been about—the setting into motion of political processess with
an accumulation and economic process that would fundamentally
alter the structure and balance of power in society. The great
agrarian upsurges of the late ‘60s and early ‘70s—what is
described as the Naxalite movements—attempted precisely this.
The Naxalite challenge failed. Most analysts now claim that it was
foredoomed to failure. Some feel that the ‘situation was not ripe’;
others trace the problem to a premature formation of a Party; still
others lay the blame on a vanguardist policy of ‘leading’ the
masses and indulging in violent activities such as individual
annihilation without the needed mass mobilization,
conscientization and organization. The reasons are many and
complex. The end result however cannot be denied. The Naxalite
Movement in India, after its spectacular growth for a few years,
could not challenge the might of the Indian state. Between
declining popular enthusiasm and increasing state authoritarianism,
the movement split into different fragments whose actions, even if
imbued with political rhetoric, could not be distinguished from
those of terrorists or brigands.
The crushing of the movement and the political challenge did not,
however, lead to any resolution of the problem. Many of the
surviving actors, having learnt a bitter lesson, re-emerged as small 359
developmental and social action groups. In fact, much of the
proliferation of both grass roots action and the middle class
supportive activity against unjust laws and policies and for
reassuring democratic and human rights owes its genesis to an
outfall of the movement. The paper by Arvind Das traces the
transformed trajectory of the Naxalite movement in the eastern
Indian state of Bihar.
Notwithstanding continuing and benighted state repression, the
Naxalite movement has slowly grown, phoenix-like, from the
ashes of its shattered past. Both over ground and underground,
electoral and non-electoral, its shift in tactics, strategy and working
style has led to its simultaneous widening and deepening. Today
the mass face of the movement, the Indian People’s Front (IPF),
enjoys a popularity and a base which none of the other political or
social formations in Bihar can command. No longer is the IPF
interested in narrowly defined political issues of ‘capture of state
power’, but works through a variety of mass organizations and on
different facets of life to give meaning and content to democracy.
As Das wryly notes, for all those who condemn the movement as
extra-parliamentary, it is only under the aegis of this movement
that many of the ‘subaltern’ classes among the early militants have
for the first time exercised their right of franchise.
Through activating the cultural front, assisting autonomous
organizations of women, fighting against caste oppression and
religious fundamentalism, linking up struggles of ecology and
rights—in addition to the struggles against bondage, for payment
of fair wages, and for distribution of surplus land— the IPF story
also teaches us against being overly sceptical and dismissive of
party political efforts. The setbacks of the last &teen years had
blurred the boundaries between the non-party political and the nonpolitical.
In fact, politics itself had become a word and activity of
disparagement. IPF teaches us that each o of us has a capacity to
learn and that the process of moving towards a just, equitable and
desirable order cannot take place by avoiding the questions of
political power. More important, such experiences force us to
rework our categories of ‘extremism’ and ‘terrorism’—labels often
stuck on efforts that question and challenge the legitimacy of the
State and the system. 360
One critique of both innovative developmental and political effort
has been the insensitivity, if not the blindness to the gender
question. Be it national movements for independence from colonial
rule, the socialist and the communist led worker and peasant
struggles, the various welfare and developmentalist initiatives by
the newly independent states, or even by many of the voluntary
and non-party social and developmental efforts— all of them can
be rightly critiqued on this ground. The combination of traditional
and modern structures have worked to keep the women of the
subcontinent in the most oppressed and exploited of states.
The gender statistics now available speak volumes. Barring Sri
Lanka, even the sex-ratios in the region are male-biased. From
being killed through foeticide, now made easier through the
technique of amniocentesis, the differential treatment handed out
to the girl-child, that is if she is not the victim of infanticide,
keeping her confined to the house, denied nutrition, health,
education skills, indoctrinated to accept a subsidiary status,
married off at an early age, subjected to repeated child births, often
killed for inadequate dowry—from birth to death the lot of South
Asian women is a miserable one. If the above statement seems
somewhat carricatured, it is because anything less than an extreme
statement excites no response from the male-ordered, patriarchal
system, that we are all a part of.
None of this has ever gone unresisted. Be it the women saints of
medieval times (often branded as witches), or the feminists of
times closer to our own—women have attempted to fight against
their oppression, though unlike other oppressed strata they have
had to carry out their struggle from both within and outside the
home. From the earlier struggles for social recognition, for the
right to work outside the house, for access to education and skills,
for a right to vote and participate in public affairs—all the way to
resisting violence, a commoditification process and a role and
typecasting that ideologically binds them into self-constraining
fetters—the women of the subcontinent are clearly on the move.
Expectedly, for the outside world, what has often excited attention
are the activities of the urban-middle class women— an attention
that is more amenable in the current situation of being dubbed as
western (at such times a word of abuse), and ultra. Much more
rarely has any attention been paid to the work being carried out 361
with working class and marginal women! If only this had been
done, the image and self-image of women in the subcontinent
would have been different. For unlike upper caste/class women
who are confined to the household—these women are confident
and ready to act. Of course, the label of an official programme
helps.
CHANGING THE TERMS OF DISCOURSE
Each of the programmes/experiments discussed so far have as their
impetus, impulses from the modern world. Even though each one
of them, simultaneously presents a critique of modern day
capitalist processes, as they have unfolded in our part of the world,
the initiative for reversal has been taken by social activists and by
cadres rooted both in modernity and in tradition.
From a social point of view, all these cases depart from the
dominant framework’s preoccupation with individual salvation,
and through their stress on collective attempts to evolve a new
framework of responding to, living with, and transforming the
present. There is also an aesthetic nudging towards austerity and
self-restraint, values which the unbridled consumerism of today
erodes. Some of these cases may have a founding ‘guru’, but not
letting a formalized structure of hierarchies and roles emerge, is
probably as good a corrective prevention as any to dependence.
Many of the experiments/organizations talked about in this book
have as their basis the material advancement of the participants. In
poor countries this focus on income-earning and saving strategies
is not surprising. In each case one can discern a movement from
the simple to the complex, from a single focus to a spread effect on
other issues. In each case the strength of the effort comes from an
awareness of collectivity which pools together its resources,
accepts help from the outsider but on its own terms, and works to
improve/reform the present and grasp the future.
These different efforts also represent a diversity, so that while one
may discern some general principles common to all, the modes of
analysis and action are different. This is due not just to the fact of
different social bases and geographical locations and sociopolitical
settings. It is, after all self-evident, that in concrete terms
what moves an informal contract worker in a large city is not what 362
motivates and involves the marginal tribals located in the periphery,
but also that the understanding of politics and social change that
govern the different response patterns are very different.
Between the IPF and Sathin in Rajasthan one can trace a spectrum of
political understanding. The former has evolved a formal and explicit
political understanding and language; a perspective on what
constitutes the social base of radical transformation; and precise and
developed tactics and strategies of the struggle which identify the
actors, structures and processes which have to be opposed. The latter
does not even have a vocabulary and language of politics. Though
motivated by suffering, it does not incorporate categories of
oppression and exploitation. More significantly, it does not
externalize the problem. And yet, both have enjoyed a popular
response from the depressed castes and classes.
All the cases are in the nature of micro-level development initiatives.
While they all display a sensitive building up from consciousnessraising
to social advancement via the steps of mass mobilization,
organization building, inculcation of new values and invoking
community spirit, their emphasis on ‘training’ through PAR and
praxis can lay them open to the charge of instrumentalism, of raising
the ‘illusion’ of ‘planned’ efforts at social transformation, even
though the planning is with a difference. In so far, notwithstanding,
their emphasis on building on the socio-cultural and knowledge base
of the people, there is a certain downplaying of the civilizational
texture of our societies that mark out the bounds of the possible.
The different critique of the various PAR experiences, both at the
level of theory and action, do raise certain questions that require a
response. For instance, is the animator/facilitator, o central to the
PAR process, only another vanguardist element in a different garb?
Given the structural and socio-cultural differences between the
external animator and the people, can a meaningful and equal
dialogue ever take place between them? Is dialogue sufficient as a
response to the problems caused by an inequality in power relations?
It is true that not unlike all fledgling attempts, the PAR theory and
process, too, is not invulnerable to processes of co-option and
distortion. Each of the employed in the PAR lexicon have by now
been given a totally different meaning in the establishment oriented
developmental discourse—with everyone from the World Bank to
national governments invoking the centrality of people’s participation
and countervailing power. That is precisely why no ‘judgements’ or
assessments can be made in the abstract, and why, what is presented 363
is a diverse range of case studies—from ‘planned intervention with a
difference’ to movements based on the everyday rhythms and
sensibilities of the common people.
No claim is being made that the material presented here is either
representative, relates to the most significant experiments/movements
in the region, or that it exhaustively maps out the range of our
communities’ responses to the crisis engulfing them as they see it. For
instance, in this book, there is a clear absence of detailed cases of how
people are responding to either the natural resources or community
identity conflicts, though references have been made in Chapter 4.
Yet the sample is diverse enough to permit some generalizations. And
if there is an ‘unintended bias’ towards the ‘instrumental’, it is
because the urgency of the problems facing South Asia leaves little
choice but to act in the best available manner. The hope is that both
humility and experiential learning are not absent from what has been
talked about, and that the ‘sustainability’ of these efforts will force the
experience on the ground to be taken seriously. The rest is left to the
experiences themselves.
For those interested in issues of praxis, the relationship between
theory building and action remains a constant preoccupation. Not
just whether the thinkers and the actors will or can be the same, but
whether theory building as an exercise is imbued with sterility in an
action sense. This critique is fairly easily made about theoretical
work of a Neo-classical or functionalist type. Here the assumption
of equilibrium, ensured either via nature or the market, leads to the
status quo. Even critical theory which is centrally concerned with
the issue of change, and revolutionary change at that, when caught
within the moors of a pre-facto working out of the implications of
intervention, often ends up relying on the ‘laws of motion of
society’. To demand that each small action should be justifiable
within a perspective of ‘overall structural change’ is only to
foredoom the actor to inaction. *
* Editorial comment on R Sudarshan, ‘Theory, Ideology and Action in
Economics and Law’, Loyakan Bulletin, 6.6, New Delhi, 1988.
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