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By:

Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Red Romance

For long, the Naxalite in news was recognisable by the gun. But the more insidious version of Naxalism has never needed a rifle. It has thrived in varsity classrooms and newspaper and magazine columns, fostered by men and women sympathetic to it. These academics and other members of the so-called intelligentsia have long enjoyed their status as ‘respectable dissenters’ even when their politics offered intellectual alibis for Naxals carrying guns. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s recent...

Red Romance

For long, the Naxalite in news was recognisable by the gun. But the more insidious version of Naxalism has never needed a rifle. It has thrived in varsity classrooms and newspaper and magazine columns, fostered by men and women sympathetic to it. These academics and other members of the so-called intelligentsia have long enjoyed their status as ‘respectable dissenters’ even when their politics offered intellectual alibis for Naxals carrying guns. Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s recent Independence Day warning about “dimaagi Naxals” should therefore not be dismissed as another political label. His larger point was that an insurgency does not survive on ammunition alone. It survives on ideas and people willing to make violence appear morally fashionable. The most revealing feature of India’s Maoist movement was never simply its brutality. It was the strange attraction it exercised over sections of the metropolitan Left elite. The Naxalite with an AK-47 could be transformed into a romantic revolutionary while the policeman he killed became an instrument of an oppressive state. This was not merely naïveté. At its ugliest, it was the intellectual laundering of political violence. The fantasy of the romantic revolutionary has always been seductive. In this narrative, amplified through sympathetic media priding itself on telling ‘truth to power,’ India was not a constitutional democracy struggling with inequality and corruption but an inherently illegitimate state waiting to be overthrown. In the minds of this elite Left, Maoist violence has often been recast as resistance while attacks on infrastructure as blows against capitalism. The armed overthrow of the Indian republic was the liberation they craved for. Some of India’s most celebrated intellectuals have flirted dangerously close to that moral inversion. The issue here is whether intellectual prestige can be used to sanitise an ideology whose practitioners have murdered civilians, policemen and public servants and terrorised some of India’s poorest districts. A university cannot be the place where Maoist romanticism acquires the legitimacy of a fashionable campus cause. Professors who turn armed insurgents into heroic revolutionaries are not merely exercising academic freedom. If they knowingly excuse violence, they are helping to construct the moral vocabulary that makes violence possible. Let’s be clear here. A professor who criticises the Indian state is not a Naxal while a journalist who exposes state excesses is not an enemy of India. But an intellectual who repeatedly excuses, glorifies or rationalises political violence cannot hide behind the word ‘dissent.’ India has paid an enormous price for the Maoist fantasy. Thousands have died. Entire regions were held back by fear while development was obstructed. The people supposedly being liberated were often the first to suffer. The armed Naxal is now being pushed towards extinction. But the Indian republic cannot afford to leave behind the romantic mythology that made the gun respectable. A democracy can tolerate dissent. It should never be expected to tolerate the glorification of those who seek its violent destruction.

Skyward Leap

Mumbai’s airspace is set for a long-overdue transformation with the forthcoming inauguration of the Navi Mumbai International Airport (NMIA), a facility whose promise has lingered on planning boards and construction sites for over a decade. At last, India’s financial capital will have a second gateway capable of rivalling some of Asia’s best airports.


The first phase of NMIA is designed to handle 20 million passengers annually, alongside 500,000 metric tonnes of cargo. This will relieve chronic congestion at Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj International Airport (CSMIA), which has long groaned under the weight of both domestic and international flights. By 2032, when all five planned phases are complete, NMIA will boast the capacity for 90 million passengers and 3.2 million metric tonnes of cargo, cementing its role as a central hub in India’s aviation network.


Travelers will notice the airport’s emphasis on seamless experience. Passengers from Ahmedabad, Surat, or Hyderabad connecting to international flights will now clear immigration at NMIA itself, much as they would in Dubai, Doha, Abu Dhabi or Singapore Changi. Officials have stressed that the model prioritises the ‘AtmaNirbharta’ (self-reliance) shibboleth. Indian carriers, not foreign airlines, will dominate these routes, ensuring that the airport serves as a launchpad for domestic carriers rather than a feeder for global hubs.


The design of Terminal 1 reflects both ambition and sensibility. Inspired by the lotus, it allows abundant natural light and incorporates sustainable construction practices. A fast baggage system, automated check-in kiosks, and modern aesthetics underline that this is not merely an expansion of capacity but an upgrade in passenger experience. By the time NMIA reaches Phase 5, it will house four more terminals capable of handling an additional 70 million passengers per year, an audacious bet on India’s continued aviation growth.


The airport is, in a sense, a symbol of persistence and policy continuity. For years, NMIA was delayed by land disputes, regulatory hurdles and coordination challenges between central and state authorities. Its inauguration marks not just a technical achievement but a lesson in the political will required to see megaprojects to fruition. The public-private partnership model led by Adani Airports has finally delivered what multiple administrations had promised but could not realise.


The government must now ensure that this momentum is not lost. NMIA’s success should be a clarion call to expedite other critical infrastructure projects in Mumbai, particularly the metro system. The final phase of Mumbai Metro Line 3, connecting Worli to Cuffe Parade, is expected to be inaugurated around the same time as NMIA. Both projects, once operational, could reshape urban mobility in India’s most congested metropolis, linking air and land transport in ways that have long been needed.


India’s cities have long struggled with bottlenecks in transport and logistics. A single airport does not make a metropolis. The next challenge for policymakers is to ensure that the city’s roads, railways and metro lines keep pace. Only then will Mumbai’s leap skyward be complete.

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