Keeping Up The Good Fight: From the Emergency to the Present Day, the political autobiography of a midnight’s child, dissects tyranny and tyrants in India
For any  of his contemporaries born in a freshly minted independent India, Prabir  Purkayastha’s Keeping Up The Good Fight: From the Emergency to the  Present Day (LeftWord Books), is a total recall, in lightning-fast  picture flash cards, of the last 60 years of our own life after leaving school.  With the difference that Purkayastha bookends the narrative between his two  arrests and incarcerations by two powerful regimes separated by half a century.
Most of  us may have, in our own mind, led similar but certainly less intense lives. But  we have never been arrested or incarcerated by dictatorial regimes. He has  been. Twice. He shares those experiences and insights with the reader in elegant  prose of a consummate writer, not just one of the country’s most experienced  engineer-scientists in the critical area of controls in nuclear and other power  plants. He speaks of the most awful experiences with a matter-of-factness that  dismisses his own trauma; and with a self-deprecating humour that sharply  brings out the cruelty, and the absurdities, of life in jail, and in the  political arena where he has been an active participant, not an observer.
Indira  Gandhi’s government arrested him from the lawns of the Jawaharlal Nehru  University in a case of mistaken identity, which, however, didn’t shorten his  one year in jail under the Maintenance of Internal Security Act (MISA). The  Narendra Modi regime has arrested Purkayastha under the Unlawful Activities  (Prevention) Act (UAPA), from the  Delhi offices of NewsClick, one of the  few independent news platforms in these times, which he had founded with some  gut-feel that it would be needed not too far in the future.
The Past  and the Present
NewsClick has been perceptively documenting momentous movements which challenged the regime, forcing it to call back black laws such as the anti-farmer Bills. It has, with integrity and finesse, brought to us stories of the suffering of individuals and communities in times of purblind and bigoted governance. And NewsClick’s video and short films beget respect for the struggles of the common people reclaiming their human dignity. “Struggles and victories like these keep people’s movements and the will of the people alive,” he writes. But it is not NewsClick that he talks about, though its output — a repository of our times — was the trigger the government used to cook up a case of receiving funds for spreading pro-China propaganda.
Prabir Purkayastha bookends the narrative between his two arrests and incarcerations by two powerful regimes separated by half a century.
The  backdrop is the Emergencies, then and now. Purkayastha gives a  foreshortened glimpse of his own coming of age from an asthmatic second son of  a city-hopping Indian Revenue Service officer through cities such as Calcutta  (now Kolkata), Allahabad (now Prayagraj), Kanpur and Lucknow till he made Delhi  his base and home.
Of all  the places, he is most nostalgic, it would seem, of the JNU, where he marked  his presence both as a student trying to write a complex thesis on an emerging  area of science, and as a non-student involved in the political debates. It is  here that he also opens his heart, tenderly speaking of his wooing of the young  woman and student union leader, Ashoka, who he would eventually marry at the  end of his first jail term. Tender but with a moist humour that would make you  put a red emoji on it, if it were a Facebook post. The book is dedicated to  Ashoka, who passed away soon after giving birth to their son.
In  retrospect, Purkayastha mentions the young Naxalites — with whom he clashed  politically in college, and whose ideology he blames for the split in the  Marxist movement — with a sense of respect. But spelling out his own pacifism,  he is scathing in his criticism of violence as an instrument of change.
“To the  Naxalites, Indian independence had not happened, and India was still  semi-feudal, semi-colonial, and its bourgeoisie was completely parasitic or  comprador. I disagreed with this politically, as also the CPI’s understanding  that the Congress was fundamentally changing Indian feudalism and travelling  possibly towards a non-capitalist path. One grossly overestimated feudalism and  the other underestimated capitalist forces in India,” he writes. In the present  times, the Left is working as a coalition, with the Marxist party, the  Communist Party of India, the CPI-M Marxist-Leninist, and the Forward block  still in government in Kerala and in earlier long stints in Tripura and Bengal.  Purkayastha remains an active member of the CPM.
The  difference between Emergency Then and Emergency Now
The book, as promised in  the title, is an illustrated analysis of the difference between the Emergency  that Indira Gandhi declared in June 1975, after the Allahabad High court  declared her election to the Lok Sabha void because of her use of unfair means,  and the “undeclared Emergency” that the people of India have experienced during  the two terms of the National Democratic Alliance (NDA), led by Narendra Modi.  It is illustrated; not that it has cartoons, graphics, or photographs — other  than one of Purkayastha’s parents and of his late wife, who was a CPM leader in  her own right in the women’s movement, where she was a contemporary of Brinda  Karat. But embedded in it are shining nuggets and insights on various facets of  politics and life spanning half a century.
As a  reporter in Delhi those days, I entirely agree with him that the people at  first seem to have approved of the Emergency; then rejected it summarily when  they found an opportunity — the 1977 elections called by Mrs Gandhi. They had  borne the brunt of the extra-constitutional coterie that actually ruled India,  chaired by her younger son Sanjay Gandhi, and his henchmen in the bureaucracy  such as Jagmohan, later governor and central minister, and policemen Pritam  Singh Bhinder, later Delhi Police Commissioner, political thugs such as Arjan  Das, Sajjan Kumar, and hordes of others who sought the fruits of power.   This is the group that planned the mass demolitions and settlement of the old “bastis”  in Delhi and ordered mass sterilisations in the country, at least in north  India, their main playground.
“These ‘ordinary’ people  were the real protagonists of the rejection. The real significance of the  Emergency lies in the confidence the Indian people gained in 1977: the people  could teach their leaders a lesson if they strayed beyond the permissible.”
Purkayastha  himself was an indirect victim of Sanjay Gandhi’s wrath. The latter’s young  wife, Maneka, was a student at JNU and was blocked from going to her class by  student union leaders who had organised a protest.  Maneka went home,  complained to her husband who ordered Bhinder to arrest the guilty students.  Bhinder commandeered a police car, formed a posse, drove to the campus, physically  picked up Purkayastha from the lawns where he was sitting, shoved him into the  car and drove off. They soon discovered they had the wrong young man. They were  hunting for Student Union president, D P Tripathi. Instead of admitting they  had made a mistake and letting Purkayastha go, Bhinder invoked MISA, sending  him to prison for a year.
Today,  Modi is the Prime minister, but around him is an unseen coterie of non-state  actors, who saturate social media with brain-numbing hate, bending the minds of  young and old to accepting the Leader Modi as a vishwaguru and a demigod. The  Prime Minister’s Office is once again the single point controller, with not a  person of the stature of PN Haksar who could, and would, caution India Gandhi.
Unfettered  by any democratic, secular, or liberal tempering, the government is now at the  mercy of a nucleus that devises ever new ways to build up the image of the  boss, while curtailing, if not eliminating, any resistance. Thousands of crores  of rupees have been spent advertising Modi as the all-powerful superman who  sleeps but two hours a day and single-handedly oversees economy, development,  and defence.
The  fringe is the mainstream
Another  point of comparison between then and now is the Modi regime’s use of government  agencies to harass or intimidate critics, whether individuals or organisations,  as well as opposition parties and political figures. Every day, there are  reports of hounding and harassment through police cases and investigative  agencies such as the Enforcement Directorate (ED), the Economic Offences Wing  (EOW) or the National Investigation Agency (NIA). FIRs are filed by a huge  number of people, making the targeted person run from court to court in half a  dozen states. Subordinate judges are not beyond being scared by the might of  the political leader.
“I think  that’s one clear distinction between the Emergency then and the ‘emergency’  now. Control by the state blends seamlessly with the intimidation unleashed by  the ground-level stormtroopers. During the 1975 Emergency, the Sanjay Gandhi  Goon Brigade was not an organised movement; the Emergency did not have an  organised force supporting the government on the streets.”
The ground-level  stormtroopers on the rampage now are different, and their reach, too, is more  wide-ranging — from censorship with bullets, of scholars and rationalists,  to gau rakshaks (cow vigilantes) trolling on  social media. They are an adjunct to the state, involved in actual physical  violence, including lynching, in the name of protecting cows.
But,  Purkayastha writes, the critical difference between then and now is at the  fundamental level of ideology. The Congress ideology did not view certain  sections of the people as outsiders, to be treated either as second-class  citizens or excluded from citizens’ rights.
The  Congress was not following Vinayak Damodar Savarkar’s thesis which plays out  today both formally and informally: the Minorities can remain in the country  but only as second-class citizens. Since 2014, there has been a dramatic  increase in what we can only call hate crimes. Muslims have been the target in  a significant number of these crimes; Dalits, Adivasis and women form part of  the list as well, as do secular activists.
The  structure of the state is apparently the same; but it is being hollowed out.  There is an organised force that has risen to complement state power. This  organised force takes on any resistance that comes from the people, and there  is a compact between the state and this kind of intimidation politics. It’s  important to remember that these forces do not comprise fringe elements; they  are a significant political force in the country, they are ‘mainstream’.
How  people’s movements gave him a purpose
Purkayastha  reminds readers that the role of the RSS-BJP is quite often overlooked in this  story. “It has been forgotten that L.K. Advani and Atal Bihari Vajpayee sat on  a dharna asking for armed forces to be sent into the Golden Temple. The RSS  cadre supported the Congress and participated in the anti-Sikh riots. The RSS  supported the Congress in the 1984 elections. According to an RSS pracharak,  it is the first time the Hindus had acted as Hindus post-independence, and so  the RSS felt that Hindu consolidation — because of the anti-Sikh riots —  required a vote for Rajiv Gandhi and the Congress. This Hindu consolidation  would help them later.”
In 2019,  the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act, 1967, was amended and now has  ‘special measures’ to deal with terrorism, including shifting the burden of  proof onto the accused, and making bail the exception, not the rule. “The  draconian nature of UAPA has been amply proved by the Bhima Koregaon case in  which as many as 16 citizens, activists and teachers and writers among them,  have been arrested and held without a trial.  One of these 16 political  prisoners, 84-year-old Jesuit Fr Stan Swamy, an activist for Adivasi rights,  died in detention. Five out of the 15 — Sudha Bharadwaj, Varavara Rao, Anand  Teltumbde, Arun Ferreira and Vernon Gonsalves — are out of jail on bail.   Gautam Navlakha is under house arrest. The others continue to languish in  jail.”
UAPA can  now be used against individuals who are labelled terrorists. The amendment  violates the principle of innocence till proven guilty, as also the  International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (1967). Purkayastha is in  jail now under this law. He knew that sooner or later he would be arrested by  the Modi government. He has studied law in detail. “No objective criterion has  been laid for categorisation, and the government has been provided with  ‘unfettered powers’ to declare an individual as a terrorist.”
Purkayastha  writes towards the end of the book: “I am as old as the Indian republic. I have  learnt how I can be part of my rich, diverse country, and, equally, part of the  fascinating, complex larger world. All I need to do is fight for a better world  for all. Living politics needs, of course, a firm commitment to struggling for  equality — in the broadest emancipatory sense — and justice for all, both  within the country and among countries. But on a day-to-day basis, living  politics means sustained work to build movements; to build a strong network, an  alliance of movements. People’s movements provide the larger world with its  only rays of hope. And for me, in my life, they have taught me meaning and  given me purpose.”
(Prabir Purkayastha was arrested under UAPA soon after completing this manuscript. He remains in jail at the time of this review of his book).





