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By:

Shoumojit Banerjee

27 August 2024 at 9:57:52 am

Classroom of Courage

In drought-scarred Maharashtra, a couple’s experiment in democratic schooling is turning child beggars into model citizens In the parched stretches of Maharashtra, from Solapur to the drought-hit villages of Marathwada, a modest social experiment has quietly unfolded for nearly two decades. It is neither a grand government scheme nor a corporate-backed charity. Since 2007, the Ajit Foundation, founded by Mahesh and Vinaya Nimbalkar, has worked with children living at the sharpest edges of...

Classroom of Courage

In drought-scarred Maharashtra, a couple’s experiment in democratic schooling is turning child beggars into model citizens In the parched stretches of Maharashtra, from Solapur to the drought-hit villages of Marathwada, a modest social experiment has quietly unfolded for nearly two decades. It is neither a grand government scheme nor a corporate-backed charity. Since 2007, the Ajit Foundation, founded by Mahesh and Vinaya Nimbalkar, has worked with children living at the sharpest edges of society in Maharashtra. The foundation has become a home for out-of-school children, those who have never enrolled, the children of migrant labourers and single parents, and those who scavenge at garbage dumps or drift between odd jobs. To call their foundation an “NGO” is to miss the point. Vinaya Nimbalkar describes it as a “democratic laboratory”, where education is not merely instruction but an initiation into citizenship. The couple were once government schoolteachers with the Solapur Zilla Parishad, leading stable lives. Yet what they witnessed unsettled them: children who had never held a pencil, begging at traffic signals or sorting refuse for a living. Prompted by this reality, the Nimbalkars resigned their jobs to work full-time for the education of such children. Leap of Faith They began modestly, teaching children in migrant settlements in Solapur and using their own salaries to pay small honorariums to activists. Funds soon ran dry, and volunteers drifted away. Forced out of their home because of their commitment to the cause, they started a one-room school where Vinaya, Mahesh, their infant son Srijan and forty children aged six to fourteen lived together as an unlikely family. The experiment later moved to Barshi in the Solapur district with support from Anandvan. Rural hardship, financial uncertainty and the pandemic repeatedly tested their resolve. At one stage, they assumed educational guardianship of nearly 200 children from families that survived by collecting scrap on the village outskirts. Eventually, the foundation relocated to Talegaon Dabhade near Pune, where it now runs a residential hostel. Twenty-five children currently live and study there. The numbers may seem modest, but the ambition is not. Democracy in Practice What distinguishes the Ajit Foundation is not only who it serves but also how it operates. Within its walls, democracy is practised through a Children’s Gram Panchayat and a miniature Municipal Council elected by the children themselves. Young candidates canvass, hold meetings and present their budgets. Children maintain accounts and share decisions about chores, activities and certain disciplinary matters. In a country where democratic culture is often reduced to voting, the foundation’s approach is quietly radical. It treats children from marginalised backgrounds as citizens in formation. The right to choose — whether to focus on sport, cooking, mathematics or cultural activities — is respected. “We try never to take away what is their own,” says Vinaya Nimbalkar. Rather than forcing every child into a uniform academic mould, individual abilities are encouraged. A boy skilled in daily calculations may not be pushed into hours of bookish study; a girl who excels in cooking may lead the kitchen team. For children who have known only precarity, standing for election, managing a budget or speaking at a meeting can be transformative. On International Women’s Day, the foundation seeks visibility not just for praise but for partnership. If you are inspired by their mission, consider supporting or collaborating—your involvement can help extend opportunities to more children in need.

Voters Propose, High Commands Dispose

The Congress’s leadership drama in Karnataka is the latest reminder of how decisively India’s politics is shaped by party high commands rather than by voters.

India prides itself on being the world’s largest democracy. Yet within its political parties, power increasingly flows upwards. It is this ‘high command’ culture that is increasingly vexing Indian democracy. Nowhere was this more evident in Karnataka, where the ongoing power tussle between the Chief Minister Siddaramaiah and Deputy Chief Minister D.K. Shivakumar. Siddaramaiah made it clear that adhering to the directives of the Congress high command in Delhi was his top priority, signalling that state leadership is effectively controlled by the latter. This raises a critical question as to whether such a system suitable for healthy democratic functioning, or does it represent indirect authoritarianism masquerading as democracy?


Siddaramaiah and his deputy, D.K. Shivakumar, had met over a much-trailed breakfast on Saturday to hush speculation of a leadership change. Smiles were duly displayed and the handshakes carefully choreographed. Yet, despite the optics of unity those briefed on the talks say the discussion quickly ran into familiar deadlock. After the meeting, Siddaramaiah announced that all was well but emphasized, “We will strictly follow every directive from the high command. The high command has ordered this dispute to be resolved before the assembly session begins, and that will guide our actions.”


Toxic centralism

It would seem from Siddaramaiah’s statements that the Congress high command in Delhi will decide the fate of Karnataka’s people, even though the government was elected by the state’s voters. This deepens a key dilemma in democratic systems is such centralization conducive to a healthy democracy? Does it embody indirect authoritarianism, or the shadow of familial and party-based monarchy? Ironically, Indian voters lack direct authority to choose leadership for national or state governance, creating fertile ground for high command culture to thrive. Parties and their high commands prefer to preserve this setup to safeguard political gains whether it is family dominated or centralized non-familial leadership.


Despite the Congress securing a majority in the 2023 Karnataka assembly elections, the selection of the Chief Minister had dragged on amid prolonged wrangling. Ultimately, Shivakumar had bowed to the Congress high command’s decision and accepted Siddaramaiah as CM. But Shivakumar has repeatedly hinted at a ‘secret’ deal made during the time which envisaged sharing the CM’s post between himself and Siddaramaiah for two-and-a-half years each.


This pattern is far from unique. In Madhya Pradesh, before Kamal Nath’s short-lived government was even sworn in, the Congress high command had effectively pre-selected its nominee, marginalising local legislators. In Rajasthan, Ashok Gehlot’s elevation owed more to Delhi’s preferences than to the wishes of his newly elected colleagues.


Pervasive culture

High command culture is not confined to Congress, it pervades the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) as well. Following the 2023 Madhya Pradesh assembly elections, BJP’s Delhi leadership selected Dr. Mohan Yadav as Chief Minister. Newly elected MLAs then formally endorsed his name in a legislative party meeting, even though he was not a public figure during the campaign. Similar patterns emerged in Rajasthan, where Dr. Bhajan Lal Sharma became CM after BJP’s victory, and in Chhattisgarh and Odisha Maharashtra stood out as an exception, with MLAs overriding Delhi’s suggestions to choose Devendra Fadnavis.


The influence of high command culture runs so deep among party leaders that, despite the BJP-JD(U) NDA alliance securing a massive majority in Bihar, BJP MLAs hesitated to openly declare Nitish Kumar as Chief Minister.


It was only during the victory celebrations that Prime Minister Narendra Modi addressed workers and lavished praise on Nitish. In reality, Modi and Amit Shah had already clarified Nitish’s leadership during the campaign. Meanwhile, a familial variant surfaced in Bihar’s Rashtriya Lok Samata Party, where the high command sworn in its son as a minister, despite him holding no assembly seat or active political background.


In high command culture, the party’s central leadership holds sway over the role of elected representatives chosen by the public. This was evident in states like Karnataka, Madhya Pradesh, and Rajasthan, where both Congress and BJP saw chief minister decisions made directly by the high command, despite voters electing their MLAs. It highlights a clear lack of internal democracy and raises questions about whether legislators have sufficient authority to select their own leadership. Such a system fosters dynastic tendencies or centralized power within parties, running counter to core democratic principles.


When high command culture fuels power struggles, development projects and public welfare become collateral damage. In states like Karnataka, leadership tussles have disrupted smooth governance, leaving public expectations unfulfilled. Decisions influenced by high command interventions often prioritize party or broader political gains, ultimately harming democratic health.


This culture has taken a worrisome turn in Indian democracy, especially as most political parties, barring a few exceptions, are dominated by families, particularly regional ones. National and state presidents in these parties are handpicked by families, rendering leadership elections mere formalities. Bihar offers a stark example, where a person serving a sentence on corruption charges was the party president and during that time the party ran a coalition government.


These ironic circumstances compel the public to question high command culture and party individualism-does it belong in democracy? Is it not a new guise of authoritarianism cloaked in democratic values, proving toxic to the system? If the high command is deemed all-wise and state MLAs lack the judgment to choose leaders, will appointing one among them as CM strengthen provincial governance, or does running the state on high command dictates align with democratic processes?


Democratic governance aims to deliver capable, accountable, and transparent administration to the people. Yet high command culture undermines this by indirectly spawning authoritarian structures.


Open discussion and analysis of this pervasive phenomenon are vital to promote internal party democracy, empower elected leaders with real authority, and align with constitutional norms while bolstering democratic vitality.


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