Latest news with #Caesarism
The Hindu
2 days ago
- Politics
- The Hindu
Review of Srinath Raghavan's new book on Indira Gandhi
Srinath Raghavan's latest book, Indira Gandhi and the Years That Transformed India, examines her political career as India's long 1970s. It takes a chronological arc: her assumption of prime ministerial office in 1966, her struggle to take tight control of the Congress party, her landslide electoral win of 1971, thereafter her leadership of the country in the war with Pakistan, the imposition of Emergency, loss to the Janata Party in 1977, her stint in opposition, return to office in 1980 and her assassination in 1984. Placing this extended decade in a global context, Raghavan argues that 'the long 1970s were the hinge on which the contemporary history of India turned, transforming the young postcolonial country into today's India.' In an interview, Raghavan explains various ideas and events that marked these tumultuous years. Excerpts: In this political history of the Indira Gandhi years, a word that recurs repeatedly is Caesarist/Caesarism. In your view, is it central to understanding the changes that she oversaw, and how it transformed the Indian polity? Caesarism refers to a style of politics in which the leader seeks directly to connect with the people, bypassing party structures or the parliament. I found it useful to understand an important change in the Indian politics ushered in by Indira Gandhi – more useful than currently modish terms such as populist or charismatic. Democratic politics has, by definition, an element of populism. And charisma is only one aspect of the Caesarist style of leadership. Was she already inclined to the Caesarist style? Did her style shift-shape along the way? Indira Gandhi adopted this mode of leadership in response to the specific problems confronting the Congress party. The party's drab performance in the 1967 elections underlined its inability to carry with it significant sections of the electorate. At the same time, it accentuated the power struggle within the party between the prime minister and the regional grandees who controlled the machine. Indira Gandhi moved towards a Caesarist style both to undercut her rivals in the party and revive its electoral fortunes. Her decision to split the Congress was undoubtedly a crucial first step. But equally important were the extraordinary performance of her party in the general elections of 1971 and the decisive military victory over Pakistan later the same year. These, in turn, propelled the party to a massive win in the State elections of 1972. None of these could have been predicted when she broke the old Congress. But cumulatively they cemented her control of the party. Without such dominance it is difficult to imagine the party tamely falling in with her decision to impose the Emergency in June 1975. The triumphs of 1971-2 to the imposition of Emergency in 1975 and the rapid consolidation of the Emergency regime — do you see a vein of risk-taking running through the entire arc? Or did, as in the popular view, fortitude give way to paranoia? I don't see her as an inveterate risk-taker. Rather she had a sharp, instinctive grasp of power relations (whether in domestic or international politics), an instinctive sense of timing and a willingness to make bold choices. These qualities worked for her in the crises of the early years, but they also led to counterproductive outcomes in later years—not only the Emergency but also her handling of the problems in Punjab, Assam and Jammu and Kashmir during her final term in office. All along, she tended to blame difficult situations on the machinations of her domestic or international opponents. This made her somewhat impervious to introspecting on her own choices and their consequences. Yet, as her bete noire Henry Kissinger once said, even the paranoid can have real enemies. You write that 'the long 1970s placed the Indian economy on the road to liberalisation, if only via a crooked path'. Do you think this point remains little appreciated? Indeed. The received wisdom on Indira Gandhi's economic policies is that they were 'socialist' and they tightened the grip of the state on private capital. This is true, but it is also a partial picture. In fact, the heyday of nationalisation and state control in the early 1970s proved brief, though it was damaging enough. The embrace of these policies coincided with the onset of a global economic crisis triggered by the collapse of the Bretton Woods system of stable exchange rates and the oil shocks that followed the Arab-Israel war of 1973. Such was the impact of this global crisis on the Indian economy that Indira Gandhi was forced to embrace conservative macroeconomic policies and move in the direction of liberalising controls on the economy. Before and during the Emergency as well as in her last term in office she adopted strong anti-inflationary policies. During these periods, she also espoused pro-business policies — policies that were viewed favourably by established players like J.R.D. Tata and newer entrants like Dhirubhai Ambani. In so doing, she put the Indian economy on the long road towards liberalisation. The tenure of the Janata Party was a vital phase of the long 1970s. How much was Indira Gandhi a defining factor in the manner and pace at which the regime unravelled? The Janata government was united in its desire to fix Indira Gandhi after 1977, but divided on how best to proceed. This led to some spectacular own-goals such as the abortive move to arrest her in 1978. Indira Gandhi, for her part, proved more astute in playing on the faultlines within the Janata Party and on the thrusting ambition of some of its leaders. In particular, her move to support Charan Singh's bid for premiership ensured that the Janata Party was broken beyond repair or rapprochement. How important were these years out of power, 1977-1980, in her own eventual evolution? These were undoubtedly the most challenging years of her political life. Yet, her ability to retain a grip on a section of the Congress party, to revive her popular fortunes by dramatic moves (such as in support of the Dalits after the massacre in Belchi), and to bounce back by winning the 1978 by-election in Chikmagalur — all showcased her political instincts and tenacity. At the same time, these years also led her further down the path of personalising power in the party (which she split for a second time) and of relying on her younger son, Sanjay Gandhi, who was clearly the dynastic heir apparent. You conclude that while the Janata government had successfully rolled back the Emergency, it did not reconfigure the coordinates of parliamentary democracy put in place on Mrs. Gandhi's watch. Yet, did its record inform the coalition governments to come in later years, of the 'third front', BJP, and the Congress? The Janata government certainly foreshadowed the era of coalition politics that began in the late 1980s. While several of the main protagonists of this period were active in 1977-79, it is not clear they had learned much from that bitter experience. Rather, the record of some of the later coalition governments bore out the dictum that the only thing we learn from history is how to make new mistakes! You choose not to speculate about the reasons for her announcement of elections in 1977. But did this announcement embed in the Indian political system the centrality of elections? The outcome of the 1977 elections demonstrated that even the most powerful political leader could be unseated and humbled. Coming in the wake of the Emergency, when institutional checks and balances had manifestly failed to uphold democracy, elections were now regarded as central to Indian democracy. A decade ago you had published a profile of Indira Gandhi - from then to now, has your assessment of the arc of her prime ministerial career altered? My assessments have changed in a couple of ways. The availability of newly declassified archival materials, including from the Prime Minister's Secretariat, has enabled me to understand better the ideas and impulses that lay behind many of the choices and decisions made by Indira Gandhi and her contemporaries. This is true even of such well known episodes as the nationalisation of banks. At the same time, I have developed a deeper appreciation of the gulf between intentions and outcomes, and how the latter were decisively shaped by the wider, including the global, currents of the long 1970s. At the outset of her premiership, for instance, Indira Gandhi wanted to restore the economy to the track of planned economic development (on the Nehruvian model). But the economic imperatives and crises of the period effectively led to rather a different model of political economy — one that combined targeted anti-poverty programmes with a liberalising, pro-business outlook. This framework has proved durable and continues to shape Indian political economy today. The interviewer is a Delhi-based editor and journalist. Indira Gandhi and the Years That Transformed India Srinath Raghavan Allen Lane ₹899
Time of India
25-05-2025
- Politics
- Time of India
Indira, and the ‘samvidhan change karo' moment
June 25 marks 50 years of the Emergency. In this excerpt from his new book ' and the Years That Transformed India', historian Srinath Raghavan writes about the PM who wanted to be president Not content with excising rights guaranteed by the Constitution , the Emergency regime also contemplated far-reaching constitutional changes. Tired of too many ads? go ad free now Dictatorships, it has been argued, can be 'commissarial' or 'sovereign'. A commissarial dictatorship seeks to defend the existing constitutional order by suspending normal laws. A sovereign dictatorship, by contrast, seeks — in the name of the people — to establish a new constitutional order. Indira Gandhi imposed the Emergency claiming the former, but she gradually began moving towards the latter. The underlying impulse was to cement the dominance of the executive and to institutionalize her Caesarism. The vehicle for both was the idea of a directly elected executive presidency. As it happened, she did not go all the way there; but she did succeed in molesting the Constitution. Three distinct impulses prodded the prime minister to consider deeper changes to the Constitution. The first came from sycophantic partymen who believed, after the Allahabad high court judgment, that the judiciary must be cut to size. The second came from individuals in the govt and the party who had wanted all along to roll back judicial restraints on the Parliament's powers to amend the Constitution. And the third came from bureaucratic advisors with considerable governmental experience. As early as mid-August 1975, there was vague talk of taking a second look at the constitution. Asked what changes she was contemplating, Indira Gandhi said, 'I am not thinking in terms of a Constituent Assembly or a new Constitution. A second look does not mean an alternative Constitution.' Yet she also felt that 'we can and should have a look at the provisions and procedures we have.' Tired of too many ads? go ad free now Proposals for more extensive and far-reaching changes came from B K felt that democratic institutions on the British model had 'not been able to provide the answer to our needs.' …The model he had in mind was the French Fifth Republic. This had been the outcome of Charles de Gaulle's ascension to power — by coup d'état — in May 1958 against the backdrop of a crisis-ridden Fourth Republic and his decision to create a new constitutional order that was ratified by a referendum. Drawing on the Gaullist model, Nehru suggested a directly elected president of the republic. However, unlike in France, the president should have only a single, seven-year term. Parliament should be elected on a system of proportional representation (not the English first-past the-post system) — as should state for the judiciary, he advocated 'American practice' — presumably appointing Supreme Court justices for life. And yet he wanted to limit the scope of prerogative writs. He also asked the PM to examine the 'possibility of making fundamental rights non-justiciable.' To strengthen rule of law, he suggested increasing the number of lower courts and specialized tribunals. Turning to the press, he observed that there was 'no reason why, like many other countries, we should not have a Press Law to make the press responsible.' Further, he advised Indira Gandhi to 'strengthen greatly' the existing libel laws: 'define more closely what is meant by bringing Government into contempt and hatred, and make it an offence to publish unproved statements without taking sufficient steps to be satisfied about their truth.' Nehru suggested appointing three commissions — on the Constitution, the judiciary, and the press — to report in four months. Parliament could discuss their recommendations in the summer. She could then dissolve Parliament and hold elections in the autumn of 1976. Nehru did not envisage a French-style referendum on the new constitution: after all, there had been none on the original Constitution of 1950. So beholden was the party to the PM that when Nehru met senior Congressmen — Jagjivan Ram, Swaran Singh, and Y B Chavan — they readily agreed to support these changes if she wanted them…Nehru then met and sounded out the only two non-Congress chief ministers. M Karunanidhi of was unimpressed. It was evident to him that Indira Gandhi would be the first president. By contrast, Babubhai Patel of Gujarat bubbled with enthusiasm: 'there could be nothing more suited to Indian conditions' than such a constitution. The Congress CM of Punjab (later president), Zail Singh , said that whatever Indira Gandhi wanted was fine by him. The CM of Haryana, who was close to Sanjay Gandhi , was blunter still: 'Get rid of all this election nonsense. If you ask me, just make our sister President for life and there's no need to do anything else.' When Nehru reported back to Indira Gandhi, she remained noncommittal. In the event, the prime minister passed on Nehru's letter to the troika of advisors to whom she had turned in the past: party president D.K. Barooah, Bengal chief minister S.S. Ray, and party treasurer Rajni Patel. The last approached another Congressman from Bombay, AR Antulay…The outcome of their confabulations was a shoddy paper titled 'A Fresh Look at our Constitution: Some Suggestions'.. . Drawing on American, French, and other European practices, it proposed a presidential system. The president would be the chief executive of the nation, directly elected for a six-year term. Unlike Nehru's proposal, it gave no specified limit on the number of terms in office. 'Since our President is thus elected by popular mandate,' the paper maintained, 'he should . . .enjoy more authority and powers than even USA President.' This was precisely what the paper proceeded to suggest. Half of the council of ministers appointed by the president would be members of parliament, hence 'unlike the USA the legislature will not be too independent of the executive.' The president would exercise more sweeping powers over the judiciary. The president would appoint all judges in consultation with the council of ministers or the state governments. A 'Superior Council of Judiciary' would be chaired by the president with the chief justice of India and the law minister as vice chairpersons.. .Apart from deciding 'administrative matters pertaining to the judiciary,' this council would be 'the authority to interpret laws and the Constitution; as also to determine the validity of legislation.' In rendering the constitutional courts toothless, the document cited such shining examples of constitutional democracy as Greece and Guatemala. The prime minister passed on a copy of this confidential document to Dhar, who recognized that it 'twisted the Constitution in an unambiguously authoritarian direction.' Barooah overreached himself when, in a bid to test the waters, he leaked the document. The reaction was almost uniformly critical, leading Indira Gandhi to distance herself from its contents. Edited excerpts courtesy of Penguin Random House India
New York Times
10-02-2025
- Politics
- New York Times
Welcome to America's Fourth Great Constitutional Rupture
Americans are prone to venerate our Constitution, mythologizing the founding generation as uniquely wise, and our subsequent constitutional history as a process of evolution toward an ever more perfect union. But American constitutional history is far more fraught, its evolution a kind of punctuated equilibrium marked by mass extinction of prior forms and precedents. Each of these moments has reshaped the way our Constitution works in fundamental ways, providing a new framework for normal politics for a new era. The scope of President Trump's challenge to the existing constitutional order — largely through a blitzkrieg of executive orders, many of them in blatant disregard of established precedent and legislation — suggests we may be in the process of another such discontinuous and disruptive moment. The question is whether it will transform our constitutional order fruitfully yet again, or accelerate a final degeneration into Caesarism. The answer cannot be determined simply by looking at the scope of Mr. Trump's actions or the ways in which they violate the law as currently understood. As the legal scholar Bruce Ackerman delineated in his classic trilogy on popular constitutionalism, 'We the People,' previous moments of radical transformation often violated the rules that governed normal politics. The first such moment was the founding itself. Delegates to the Constitutional Convention were sent to revise the Articles of Confederation; instead, they proposed an entirely new form of government chartered by 'we the people of the United States,' sitting both above and alongside states that had previously been the only sovereign entities. Persistent tension between federal and state sovereignty ultimately resulted in the Civil War. Union victory led to a second constitutional moment with the Reconstruction amendments, which could be passed only because the former rebel states were under military occupation. The 13th through 15th Amendments were intended to end slavery and establish equal citizenship for those freed and their descendants, but the 14th Amendment's Due Process Clause was interpreted to protect a robust right to form contracts, which limited the government's ability to regulate business or enact labor protections. It helped to empower the emerging titans of industry and finance as they transformed the national economy into an industrial powerhouse. When America's economy collapsed in the Great Depression, a third constitutional moment was initiated by the New Deal. The administration of Franklin Delano Roosevelt and a Democratic Congress passed legislation dramatically expanding the federal government's intervention in the economy and establishing much of the administrative state. This violated the established understanding of various constitutional provisions, including the Interstate Commerce Clause, but after initially resisting, the Supreme Court reversed decades of precedent to allow this fundamental transformation to take place. None of the intervening eras between these moments were tranquil. The antebellum period was marked by profound fights over slavery, tariffs, territorial expansion and the role of a central bank. The latter half of the 19th and early 20th centuries were wracked by conflict between labor and capital and between indebted farmers and lending banks. And the post-New Deal order has been marked by backlash over the court's role in desegregation, abortion rights and other areas, along with continued battles over the scope of the New Deal transformation itself. But these conflicts, even when expressed through battles over the Constitution, did not result in new constitutional moments. They did not represent fundamental ruptures in the nature and balance of the Constitution that could be enacted only by violating pre-existing norms and processes. Mr. Trump's challenge is strikingly different. He aims to unbind the executive from constraints imposed by the other branches and the normal process of administrative lawmaking. To stand, these changes will require the other players in our constitutional order to accept that the president by himself can make changes of such magnitude. That would be a fourth constitutional revolution. President Trump has already taken numerous steps to seize direct control of the federal bureaucracy in ways that violate norms of independence. He has fired career prosecutors and appointed a head of the F.B.I. determined to bring the bureau under direct presidential authority. Elon Musk's initiative, called the Department of Government Efficiency, has installed itself in the Office of Personnel Management with a view to purging the bureaucracy of anyone who opposes the president's plans for transformation. Finally, in direct violation of the law, Mr. Trump has fired inspectors general without notice across a wide array of federal agencies. These actions may arguably be defended under the doctrine of the unitary executive, which the current Supreme Court sometimes views favorably. An aggressive formulation of this doctrine would hold that any division within the executive branch, and any intrusion of the legislature into its inner operation, is a violation of the Constitution's separation of powers. The court has never taken quite that strong a stance, but the Trump administration's actions may require it either to do so or to draw a line short of that point, and hold to it in the face of possible defiance. A more fundamental challenge to the constitutional order comes from Mr. Trump's assertion of a broad right to impound, or refuse to spend, funds appropriated by Congress. The president's ability to do this is limited by a 1974 law, the Impoundment Control Act, but some conservative legal scholars associated with the administration have long viewed this law as unconstitutional. The court may agree that the 1974 law is unconstitutional, again citing the doctrine of the unitary executive. But before 1974, the actual use of the impoundment power was limited. If the court blesses the sweeping right to impound asserted by the administration, it would effectively grant the presidency a veto over all spending, rendering much of Congress's budgetary process advisory. Combine this with the president's acknowledged wide latitude to impose and remove tariffs, giving the executive partial control of the revenue side of the budget as well, and the scope of Congress's power of the purse will have been narrowed dramatically. Most sweeping of all, President Trump's executive order on birthright citizenship effectively asserts the right to reinterpret the Constitution itself. Birthright citizenship has been the rule in America since long before the passage of the Constitution, derived as it was from precedent in English common law. But it was enshrined in the constitutional text via the 14th Amendment's citizenship clause and has been affirmed repeatedly in subsequent case law. Defenders of the executive order limiting this right point out that, at the time of the ratification of the 14th Amendment, the concept of unauthorized immigration had not yet been enacted in law. They say that the ratifiers could not have imagined that millions of people would enter the country illegally, or that any would come temporarily just to claim citizenship for their children, so the amendment's language should be reinterpreted in light of new conditions. They point out further that other countries with the same common law inheritance as the United States, like Britain, Australia and India, have over the past 40 years enacted limits on birthright citizenship. What is extraordinary about the president's order, though, is not merely that it flagrantly violates established precedent, but that it contradicts Congress's own authorizing legislation related to immigration, which relies on the established interpretation of the Constitution. If the court allows Mr. Trump's order to stand, it will not only be revising its understanding of the text to accommodate the elected branches, it will also be privileging the executive over Congress as the voice of the people in interpreting our most fundamental law. The central justification for all of these moves is the view that the American constitutional order has become sclerotic. The bureaucracy, it is claimed, operates with a mind of its own, unresponsive to either the people's will or the nation's interests. Congress is too divided and hesitant to make fundamental changes; it prefers to delegate interpreting the Constitution to the courts and regulatory rule-making to the executive whenever possible. In this view, if anyone — especially the court — stands in the way of an energetic executive, it will only be standing for stasis and failure, and should be ignored. That view can be rebutted in any number of ways. Congress, the executive and the federal bureaucracy worked together very effectively under the first Trump administration, for example, to respond to the economic consequences of Covid (though the fraud that resulted is now being cited as another justification for attacks on the bureaucracy that was faithfully executing the orders it was given). But even if the grim diagnosis is correct, the deeper question is what will remain of our constitutional order after such radical surgery. The American presidency has often been called imperial. The executive was liberated long ago from most constitutional restraints on its war-making power, and the court in Trump v. United States has already largely exempted it from criminal prosecution. Recent presidents have pushed the envelope of executive power, including that of President Barack Obama in providing protection for unauthorized immigrants who arrived as children and President Joe Biden in ordering the forgiveness of some student loans. Mr. Trump would take these exceptions and make them the new norm. He would give an already quasi-imperial executive unfettered control of a bureaucracy with far-reaching regulatory powers, unbind its prosecutorial function from the norm of political independence, allow it to defy the legislature on spending and demand deference to it in its interpretations of the Constitution. It does not strike me as unreasonable to call the resultant order Caesarian in character. Where would that leave America's Constitution? In a subsequent book, 'Revolutionary Constitutions,' Mr. Ackerman notes that revolutionary movements that have produced enduring democratic constitutions have often depended on charismatic populist leaders willing and able to push through radical change. What distinguished them from leaders whose rule degenerated into dictatorship was precisely their determination to leave enduring institutions behind, ones that made power responsive to the people, rather than merely consolidating it in their own hands. Many supporters of one or another aspect of the Trump agenda see themselves as saving or restoring a Constitution that has long been violated, and those who disagree about the substance should not dismiss those motives out of hand. But a constitutional Caesarism is a contradiction in terms. If their aim is constitutional renewal, it behooves them to delineate the contours of the developing new order, to describe what they would build before they tear down. Most important, if we are facing another constitutional moment, we — the people's defenders in the court, their representatives in Congress and the people themselves — need to attend as carefully to what is being established as we do to what may pass away. Constitutional forms may change, but government of the people, by the people and for the people must not perish from the earth.
