Lincoln disproved
Although it is the nation’s proud boast that India is the world’s most populous (not largest) democracy, evidence is mounting that the idealistically heroic decision to introduce universal adult franchise when a mere 12 percent of the population was literate, was an error. Since 1951 when post-independence India’s first General Election was held, gullible, uneducated electorates have given huge majorities to political parties led by charismatic leaders who have repeatedly betrayed their trust. Corruption and criminality engendered by socialist licence-permit-quota raj became ubiquitous and struck deep roots to the extent that the worst elements of society are routinely elected to top-level positions in the Central and state governments. The recently concluded legislative assembly election in Bihar (pop.104 million) offers startling evidence of this trend. According to a detailed study conducted by the Delhi-based Association for Democratic Reforms, 68 percent (cf. 58 percent in 2015) of the newly elected MLAs have criminal charges filed against them with 51 percent (40 percent) facing serious criminal charges. Nor is criminality a BJP/JDU monopoly in this benighted state (per capita income: Rs.43,000 cf. the national average of Rs.1.35 lakh). Fifty-four of the 74 winning candidates of the main opposition RJD party have criminal charges, and 44 have serious criminal charges filed against them. These MLAs disprove the popular morality adage that crime doesn’t pay. Their average assets are evaluated (on the basis of self-declarations in their filed election forms) at Rs.4.32 crore and 81 percent of them are crorepatis (assets valued at over Rs.1 crore). Evidently in contemporary Bihar, Abraham Lincoln’s famous aphorism that you can’t fool all the people all the time has been disproved. Following Gresham law that bad money drives out good, in 21st century Bihar, crooks and villains drive the best people out of the hustings and democracy has been driven off the rails.
Remembrance of an ideal teacher
Among the great teachers I have trained I remember many who knew how to scold without losing their students’ love and trust. Predictability in a teacher’s behaviour is important, advised the late American educator John Holt Dr. Krishna Kumar is former director of NCERT and former professor of education at Delhi University One of the four teachers I have kept in touch with passed away last month (November) in his late eighties. The others taught me at college or later, but Kapil Dev Tailang was the only one left from my school days. Before he was assigned to my school, he had come in for a few days when the regular teacher was on leave. The difference between the two was stark, and not because the regular teacher was not good. What made Kapil Dev Sir’s classes an unusual experience was that he did not scold. Decades later, I still find this strange. Some of the boys in my class strived to irritate him, but never succeeded in provoking a reprimand. His style did not include harsh or loud words. He was a language teacher, and Hindi was his language. He took care not to pollute it in our minds with uncouth usage. His distinction as a teacher shone in moments when he was under stress. He knew how to shame respectfully. In any case, he always used the honorific aap for students while every other teacher addressed us as tum, except teachers who favoured more demeaning variants. For Kapil Dev Sir, the dignity of Hindi, his subject, was a personal value. Teachers have every right to be harsh at times, but some speak in a reproachful voice all the time. Among the teachers I have trained, I remember many who knew how to scold without losing their students’ trust and love. Predictability in a teacher’s behaviour is important, advised the highly respected American educator John Holt (1923-85) who had deep personal insight into children’s minds and the flaws of America’s school system. One of his most famous books, How Children Fail (1964) could well be re-titled When Teachers Fail. It is not the scolding, but the unpredictability of a teacher’s anger that frightens children and makes them distrustful. With Kapil Dev Sir, you knew there was no need to feel fearful of him. He was a peace extremist. When boys tried to annoy him, he smiled at them. Most of the time when he was teaching, no one felt like taking advantage of his calm disposition. I recall, when some boys persisted in aggravating him, Kapil Dev Sir left the class, laughing. Long after his retirement, he maintained this capability to laugh at irritants. “My laughter keeps me in good health,” he would say. His subject had low status in those times, even in a government school. There were no coaching classes in our town, but even then, science and math were regarded as critical to ultimate success, and teachers of these subjects exuded an air of superiority because…