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By:

Shoumojit Banerjee

27 August 2024 at 3:27:52 pm

Fear Over the City

As rioting and arson sweep French cities, Europe’s governing classes are reaping the harvest of a fatal delusion that mistook the dismantling of inherited identity for moral progress. The Arson at Limoges Town Hall. In the 1975 thriller Peur sur la ville (Fear Over the City), French cinematic icon Jean-Paul Belmondo hurtles across the rooftops of Paris in pursuit of a twisted serial killer terrorising the capital. In the film - one of Belmondo’s umpteen policiers of the period - our maverick...

Fear Over the City

As rioting and arson sweep French cities, Europe’s governing classes are reaping the harvest of a fatal delusion that mistook the dismantling of inherited identity for moral progress. The Arson at Limoges Town Hall. In the 1975 thriller Peur sur la ville (Fear Over the City), French cinematic icon Jean-Paul Belmondo hurtles across the rooftops of Paris in pursuit of a twisted serial killer terrorising the capital. In the film - one of Belmondo’s umpteen policiers of the period - our maverick cop relentlessly hunts the predator to restore order to a threatened French metropolis. In contemporary Europe, the spectacle is far more unsettling: authorities are reduced to putting out fires while the intellectual and political elite splits hairs over whether a civilisation possessing a distinctive identity is itself an expression of prejudice. The film’s title supplies an uncomfortably precise descriptor for the present moment as France - that imperious republic of liberté, égalité, fraternité - again provides the sorry spectacle of a civilisation conducting its own funeral while insisting the proceedings constitute a celebration of diversity. On October 17, a masked mob set fire to the historic town hall in Limoges. Inaugurated in 1883, the ornate building had outlasted two world wars and the convulsions of a century, only to succumb to the fury of its own times as its clock tower collapsed in flames. The arson reportedly followed demonstrations over deteriorating public services and the rising cost of living. Which brings us to the central question of Europe’s modern crisis: What happens to a nation when its political and intellectual elites become progressively less certain that its inherited civilisation is worth defending? Michel Foucault, Taboo Prophet The arsonists in Limoges need not have read French high priests of post-modernism or structuralism like Michel Foucault, Jacques Derrida, or Jean-François Lyotard, whose theories cast all tradition as oppression. But a sustained philosophical atmosphere in which inherited institutions are perpetually suspect offers a remarkably convenient climate in which to forget why societies preserve things in the first place. A civilisation is a long conversation between the living, the dead and the unborn. Its monuments are not decorative inconveniences, but the visible expression of a people’s historical continuity. The conversation breaks down when that continuity is severed. All too often in history, those who have pointed out the rupture have been banished from the room. Powell’s Ghost On April 20, 1968, Enoch Powell delivered a speech in Birmingham that secured his place among Britain’s most controversial political figures. In his inflammatory “rivers of blood” speech, addressing a Britain adjusting to post-imperial decline, Powell attacked the Commonwealth immigration system established under the British Nationality Act of 1948 which had allowed hundreds of thousands of South Asians and West Indians to settle in industrial hubs like the West Midlands. Quoting Virgil’s Aeneid, Powell predicted that unchecked demographic shifts and a lack of forced integration would lead to catastrophic civil strife, famously declaring: “As I look ahead, I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see ‘the River Tiber foaming with much blood.’” Powell’s explosive imagery led to his dismissal from the Conservative Shadow Cabinet the following day, while his speech was branded an unpardonable expression of racial demagogy. Enoch Powell, Classical Cassandra Yet Powell was no crude demagogue. A former Professor of Ancient Greek, fluent in multiple languages with a stint in India, his erudition made his warnings all the more chilling to a political establishment rushing to pass the Race Relations Act. While his rhetoric made open discussion of immigration policy a political taboo for a generation, Powell’s underlying question remains uncomfortably relevant today: can a democracy sustain an honest debate about national cohesion and integration if certain conclusions are declared impermissible before the evidence is examined? Much of Europe’s establishment has behaved as though the vocabulary of multiculturalism could substitute for the difficult business of governing a multicultural society. It has succumbed to what Roger Scruton termed oikophobia, or the reflexive repudiation of one’s own home and heritage. George Orwell diagnosed the same neurosis in The Lion and the Unicorn (1941), observing intellectuals ashamed of their nationality and inclined to snigger at their country’s institutions. A nation can welcome immigrants and accommodate cultural differences. But citizenship demands respect for the law, acceptance of constitutional institutions and participation in a shared public life. When that compact weakens, the state must restore it without apology. Jacobin Dreams As the homeland of the Enlightenment - of Voltaire, Rousseau, Diderot and d’Alembert - France occupies an especially interesting position in this story. It has traditionally been associated with universal citizenship and laïcité, or secularism. It is also the country whose post-war theorists furnished the West with sophisticated methods of questioning inherited authority. During the height of The Terror during the French Revolution, radical revolutionaries attempted to de-Christianise the realm, rewrite the calendar and convert the Notre-Dame Cathedral into a “Temple of Reason” in 1793. The Festival of the Supreme Being, by Pierre-Antoine Demachy (1794). Maximilien Robespierre They sought to treat a historic nation as an erasable palimpsest. They should have realized that when a parchment is scraped too many times, it tears through. Even Maximilien Robespierre, the radical Jacobin architect of the Reign of Terror, recognised that abstract formulas could not command the human heart, prompting his short-lived ‘Cult of the Supreme Being.’ Anticipating the anarchy of the Terror, Edmund Burke presciently observed in his classic treatise Reflections on the Revolution in France (1790): “When ancient opinions and rules of life are taken away, the loss cannot possibly be estimated.” A state that mocks its past risks destroying the psychological foundations of civic duty. Contract Unbecoming Multiculturalism began with a defensible proposition that equal citizenship should not depend on erasing one’s origins. The difficulty begins when pluralism is treated as an open-ended obligation imposed upon the host society, while expectations of newcomers are treated as unreasonable. At that point, multiculturalism risks becoming an ideology of institutional evasion. France’s colonial past, including the Algerian War of 1954–1962, continues to shape its present. But history is not a hereditary sentence to be imposed upon the living. A state that refuses to articulate a common national identity creates a vacuum in which competing grievances struggle for authority. A confident civilisation should be able to confront historical injustice without converting inherited guilt into permanent political currency, and oppose racism without treating every criticism of immigration policies as ‘racism.’ Importantly, it should be able to celebrate diversity without pretending that diversity alone supplies the bonds of social solidarity. That is the political maturity Europe needs today. Not an endless oscillation between moral exhibitionism and angry reaction, but a clear-eyed recognition that a society must possess something it is prepared to preserve. In Fear Over the City, Paris was a city that needed to be rescued from the terror of a serial killer. In the Europe of today, that rescue must begin with an intellectual culture willing to distinguish criticism from nihilism, and a public prepared to insist that its inheritance is neither shameful nor disposable.

Bharat’s Jetson Cities, Light-years Away from Nature

Jan 18, 2025
5 min read

Updated: Jan 20, 2025

Jetson Cities

One thing is for certain: our Bharatiya cities, the big metros and towns, are fast becoming like the ‘Jetson’ cities. For those who are unaware of Jetson cities, these were first shown in the famous Hanna-Barbera cartoon series, the Jetsons, set in the 2100s, where cities are air-tight glass globules tethered to the ground, and the only way to get in and out are the flying cars. Yes, we, the city-dwellers, aspire to tall skyscrapers, spectacular bridges, world-class tunnels, swooshing metro trains, and we are building Jetson-like flying cars. A few HD drone images here and there, during the day and at night and around twilight, and we are content that our cities have become the cynosure of our own eyes. We want our cities to be brightly lit, with neon signs, laser shows, and large billboard videos. We would then fulfil our inner desire to have a city on par with Tokyo, New York, and Shanghai.


Our buildings, designed for the next 30 years, are well air-conditioned, shielding occupants from a soupy dust bowl of brown smog, soot, particulate matter, and fine dust. It is said that most new home buyers invest at least 10% of their property’s price in enhancing the interiors, soundproofing their homes, using air purifiers and conditioners, and disconnecting from the outside world for that much-needed solace. Indeed, large builders promote their projects as close to nature amidst tranquillity. However, there is always another builder eager to get one plot of land ahead of yours to enjoy that nature. To be truthful, access to nature now comes at a premium - even the skies.


Let’s assume the working-age population is occupied in the leisure of our Jetson cities, but how many of their young school and college-going kids have seen the long arm of the Milky Way galaxy from their cities? How many have witnessed a comet zooming by? How many know about endemic plants with medicinal properties? When did they last see a chirping house sparrow? How many know that the nearest sewage drain was once a freshwater stream? When did they last find their suburban beach prettier than the resort beaches of Maldives?


The intent to ask these questions is simple: Bharat is currently at a crossroads. Pundits are enthusiastic about a cultural renaissance on the horizon. Corporate leaders, on the other hand, want us to invest hundreds of hours each week to pay our dues to the growth of the national GDP. But no one asks, if a cultural renaissance is to occur, who will generate the new understandings and insights of nature that arise typically during such a period of human advancement? No one is actually asking, for whom are we building the nation if there is no time for children, or worse, if there is no time or intent to have children. In the process of growing rich, we are about to become old. By 2047, 65% of the population under the age of 35 will grow beyond 35 all at once, and we’d have an enormous population in advanced ages with a tapering young population, a graph that looks like a banyan tree. Unfortunately, that young population will have no access to the knowledge that nature has to offer, neither flora and fauna nor the seas and the skies.


Our urbane lifestyles need tempering. Such tempering can occur only if we ensure the revival of natural sciences during this period of cultural renaissance and nation-building. Let’s not rely solely on the educational system. With Indian Knowledge Systems, constructive changes are underway, and academic curricula are poised to improve for the greater good. However, true knowledge arises only when parents and grandparents introduce children to nature. Genuine understanding also develops from extracurricular activities in schools and colleges that encourage kids to observe, journal, and act on their discoveries. On the positive side, our country’s forest cover is increasing, as announced by the government. However, efforts must be made to ensure that every school or college, whether in Mumbai, Vijayawada, Gorakhpur, Ratlam, Thrissur, Bhuj, Faridabad, Imphal, Manali, Cuttack, or Ajmer, guarantees that their students are well aware of the endemic nature of their surroundings and are regularly observing and recording data on whatever interests them. Let kids observe rivers and understand the volume of water that flows through them. Let children learn about the decline of house sparrows in their cities and what steps should be taken to revive their populations. Let them study the bees in their nearby groves and recognise the vital role these bees play in nature.


Of course, you need to learn AI, robotics, fintech, the next generation of management courses, and all the engineering bells and whistles. However, we must not leave the next generation with inadequate comprehension and skills for understanding nature. We must ensure that nature conservation is not merely lip service or a tool for politicised green activists. This can be achieved if natural sciences are given the respect they deserve at the school, undergraduate, and postgraduate levels.


Indeed, I am a plebeian, and you might feel that you, too, could write a rant about the plight of our urban lives. Urban development and municipal experts have many solutions to propose, but few are willing to take action. However, that is not the issue I wish to highlight. I aim to illustrate a much larger concern—that Indian city dwellers are disoriented and devoid of nature, lacking a guiding star to lead them toward a brighter future. Our cities of Mumbai, Delhi, Bengaluru, Ahmedabad, Kolkata, and Chennai have taken on characteristics reminiscent of Jetson-like cities. We show little regard for the Nagar Devata, Gram Devata, and Van Devata, who have protected the cities, towns, and forests that once surrounded us. We wait for formal governance to clean up our beaches, rivers, and ponds without making sufficient efforts to prevent pollution in the first place.


For those striving to grasp spirituality not through the Puranas and Aadi-Granth but through new-age podcasts, I recommend watching Vinay Varanasi’s podcast on Bhagavan Vishnu’s Dashavatar. If it is clear that Bhagavan Vishnu does not tolerate disregard for Bhudevi or Mother Earth, why do we, the devotees of Bhagavan Vishnu, continue to pollute our Mother Earth—her air, soil, waters, and sounds? Or have we taken Elon Musk's words at face value, assuming our next destination is Mars after destroying Earth, only to ruin Mars later, even worse than its current clinically sterile state? If that is the case, then bear with me when I say this: these Jetson cities stand on precarious pillars of ego, victimhood, apathy, and consumerism, waiting to be toppled either by the true harbingers of order or by false prophets. Therefore, teach the next generations to observe nature, appreciate our coexistence with other species, and venerate the forces of nature. By doing so, we humans will be good, at least for the next thousand years. If not, prepare for a bleak future by the end of this century.


(The author is a Space and Emerging Technology Fellow at the Centre for Security, Strategy and Technology, Observer Research Foundation, Mumbai. Views personal.)

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