A new mode of exercising local power: the case
of Keralam
We have gathered here to study and discuss “new modes of exercising
local power”. The very formulation of the topic, the proposition of “local
power”, implies an understanding of modern Indian society quite at variance
with the official claims made about it. So it is appropriate that we start by
presenting this counter-view. We understand that India is still dominated and
exploited by imperialism. Moreover, though weakened, caste-feudalism is still a
powerful factor in all spheres of society. This is the essence of
characterising this country as semi-colonial, semi-feudal. It indicates an
on-going, unfinished, transformation. We will proceed by first giving a brief
outline of this dynamics, as seen in the case of Keralam.
Caste-feudalism
and colonialism*
During
the middle ages, one of the specificities of caste-feudalism, in what is now
Keralam, was the near-total dominance in landownership of Namboodirees
(categorised as Brahmin varna) and temples controlled by them. The share of the
Varma kings (categorised Kshatriya) was minimal. Another distinct feature was
the combined role of adiyaalatham and tenancy as the main forms
of extracting agrarian surplus. Adiyaalatham was an exploitative system in which
landless Dalits and some Adivasi tribes were owned by their lords who could
trade or rent them out. They were denied right to land, even as tenants.
Supplementing the meagre fare dished out by their lords with hunting and
gathering from the surrounding land, waterways and forests, they barely managed
to survive. Land tenure was graded. At the topmost level, sub-feudatories,
mainly from savarna Hindu castes like the Nairs (categorised Shudra), were the
direct tenants of the Namboodirees and temples. They carried out agriculture
either directly through the adiyaalars or by renting out to
sub-tenants. These included savarnas and avarnas. Dalit and Adivasi adiyaalars were the main direct producers. Surplus was
thus produced and extracted by two processes and at two levels. One of them was
the surplus generated by the adiyaalar. In
situations where they were put to work by the landlords, this was more or less
wholly the lords property. When they worked under a tenant, this surplus was
expropriated in turn over the various tiers of tenancy, all the way uptil the
landlord. Other than this, surplus was also generated by the direct labour of
tenants, from poor to rich peasant classes. This was in turn expropriated by
the higher tenants and ultimately by the landlord.
The
class and caste relations of this exploitative system were reproduced in the
power structure and the rest of the superstructure. They in turn sustained and
reinforced these relations. Within the kingdoms ruled by Varma kings, the sankethams (a temple and its lands) governed by its Namboodiri yogam (council) enjoyed a near-sovereign status. While they too
had to concede ultimate allegiance to some king, this was not necessarily the
one where the sanketham was located. They could decide
whom to declare allegiance to. No king could enter the boundaries of the sanketham without the permission of the yogam, which wielded power within it. Below the kings, the bigger savarna sub-feudatories
exercised power at different levels, with the right to punish or kill. For
this, and to wage wars for the kings, they employed Nair troops. They were
aided in local rule by the naattukootam/tharakootam,
a local
council composed with representation from the main savarna families, mostly
Nair. Trade was controlled by prominent Maappila (Malayalee Muslim) and
Nasarani (Malayalee Christians) merchants. They enjoyed savarna status and were
part of the power compact.
The
core of this compact, the Namboodiri-Varma-Nair nexus, was reinforced by a
unique set of marriage relations. Only the eldest Namboodiri male married
within the caste. The others entered into sambandham (loose pairing marriages) with Varma and Nair women.
Brahmanical hegemony was thus secured through 'blood ties'. The Varma males too
had sambandham relations with Nair women. For
the Nair, sambandham was the norm. Caste was directly
employed to structure, reproduce and protect political power. The Muslims and
Christians too were incorporated in its folds. To give an example, under the
Saamoothiri kings of Kozhikode, the eldest boy of every Araya family (a sea
fisher caste) had to be converted to Islam. This was to ensure the
replenishment of naval manpower, essential to protect the sea trade. The navy
was led and staffed by Maappilaas.
This
loosely, yet strictly, held together Brahmanical power-structure underwent
notable change during the colonial period. Starting from the end of the 15th
century onwards, colonial powers began to intervene in the economic and
political spheres. The colonial quest to widen the sourcing of spices prompted
them to favour one king against the other. This led to the weakening and demise
of some and the growth of others. Colonial competition heightened the demand
for spice trade and promoted money relations. In the political sphere this aided
the emergence of kingdoms, in some ways similar to the absolute kingdoms of
late feudalism in Europe. This was particularly seen in the south. Under Marthanda
Varma, the kingdom of Venad expanded, through conquest, to encompass nearly
half the territory of present Keralam. Most of the land was taken over and
became state property. Namboodiri landownership was significantly reduced.
Tenancy relations were changed but not ended. Systematic land tax assessment
and collection were instituted. Trade in spices and salt were centralised.
Evidently, the loose structure of the past had to be abandoned. A central
state, with its paid army and regular bureaucracy, emerged. But this did not mean the
elimination of all the earlier sub-structures of power. Now circumscribed
within the ambit of the new central power, sub-feudatories continued to
exercise local power. The independence enjoyed by Venad (Thiruvithamkoor) was
short-lived. It soon came under British colonialism. Though the Venad monarchy
was allowed to continue, it was fully controlled by the British. North of the
Bharathapuzha, the whole of Malabar was incorporated within the Madras
presidency. Kochi and Thiruvithamkoor remained as local kingdoms, swearing
allegiance to the British crown.
Colonialism promoted the transformation of traditional
caste-feudal production relations. This included the establishment of
plantations, growth of primary processing industries, freeing of adiyaalars, fixity of tenure for the upper
level of tenants in the two kingdoms, spread of commercial cropping and
increased monetisation of the economy. Yet this was not an outright elimination
of caste-feudalism. While some upward mobility was seen among the savarna
Christians and the upper crust of the avarnas, land ownership remained
overwhelmingly with savarnas. Adiyaalars were freed but continued to be
denied land by the strictures of Brahmanism. They thus continued to live on the
lands of the lords, always at their service, bonded in the new form of kudikidappu (hutments). The lower levels of tenants in all three regions suffered
from the burden of feudal rent further weighted by colonial demands. They were
also in danger of being turned off the land by merciless landlords, always keen
on switching tenants in order to impose higher rents. Complementing this in a certain
way, the modern sectors were also marked by caste-feudal relations and values.
The plantations were established on the foundations of feudal land monopoly,
traditional as well as newly secured. Within them, the labour force was
recruited, controlled and put to work by deploying a whole array of
caste-feudal methods of inducement and punishment. The same was true of the new
processing industries as well. The consolidation of British rule strengthened
the structures of centralised rule. This was more elaborate in Malabar,
directly ruled by the British. Yet, in all the regions, Malabar and the two
kingdoms, local power continued to be exercised by feudal lords. Quite often,
they were appointed by the colonial authority or kings as the local
representative of the government. The old and the new combined in such a manner
that the institutions of modernity like the bureaucracy and the courts
strengthened the grip of landlords, even while they brought them within the
supervision of a new type of centralised control.
This
brings us to the question of assessing the nature of this transformation. It’s
time for a ‘theory break’.
Bureaucrat-capitalism
Colonial
modernity is increasingly being subjected to critical examination. It is now
recognised, even if unevenly, that its role was quite ambiguous. This critical
view is a welcome departure from one-sided glorification of the ‘modernising
role’ of British colonialism. But the hangover of simplistic linearity, of the capitalism
vs. feudalism variety, lingers on. The fact is that it was, and is, a matter of
capitalism and feudalism. Some propping up of
the outmoded had always been an accompaniment of its transformation by
colonialism.
The 1969 political resolution of the CPI (M-L) had noted that, along
with feudalism, comprador-bureaucrat capitalism is “one of the two main props”
of imperialism. The ruling classes were analysed as the “big
comprador-bureaucrat bourgeoisie and big landlords”. The public sector was
analysed as “state monopoly capitalism, i.e., bureaucrat capitalism”. This
clarity on the character of the big bourgeoisie and the nature of the
capitalism underlying it, fostered by and serving the interests of imperialism,
was a decisive rupture from the confusion created by the CPI, CPM and various
other status quoist centers. It was guided by the breakthrough achieved by Mao
Tsetung, through his class analysis of China, in understanding the nature of
the bourgeoisie in oppressed countries. These positions are commonly accepted
by the Marxist-Leninist movement. Yet the understanding is not identical. For
example, some consider comprador and bureaucrat bourgeoisie as factions of a
single class. Some others view them as separate classes. It is also argued that
this form of capitalism applies only to the state sector, the public sector.
There is further the question of applying the concept of bureaucrat capitalism
in analysing and understanding the nature of colonial modernisation and on-going
transformations taking place in rural India.
Before proceeding further we
need to deal with the concept of “distorted capitalism”. It is often used,
mistakenly, as a synonym of bureaucrat capitalism. The qualifier - “distorted”
- is believed to sufficiently clarify that this is a particular type of
capitalism, one which is not independent. But, merely recording that the
capitalist relations being fostered here are distorted, that they are
qualitatively different from those in the capitalist (imperialist) countries,
is of little use. The issue to be explained is the nature of the “distortion”.
That these relations serve imperialism is only one aspect of the matter, only
one of the manifestations of “distortion”. As defined by Mao, it is also
“closely tied up with ... the domestic landlord class and the old-type rich
peasants”. Bureaucrat capitalism is, in Mao’s formulation, “comprador, feudal,
state-monopoly capitalism”. The links with imperialism, feudalism and the
state, all three, must be kept in mind. In our view the formulation
“distorted capitalism” conceals the essence of the matter. Similarly, the term
“crony capitalism” is also insufficient since it addresses only the aspect of
the close relation of this capital with political lobbies. The waxing and
waning of the fortunes of different comprador groups in direct relation to
their proximity to political centres is no doubt an important characteristic of
the capitalism seen here. But all the same it is still only one aspect.
Therefore neither of these terms can replace the comprehensive, scientific
rigour provided by Mao’s formulation “bureaucrat capitalism” and its
definition. This needs to be reasserted.
Here attention must be drawn to the contribution of comrade:
Gonzalo, Chairman of the Communist Party of Peru (PCP), in reiterating the
centrality of Mao Tsetung’s concept of bureaucrat capitalism in analysing
oppressed countries. He applied and developed this concept. It was specified
“... bureaucratic capitalism is the capitalism that imperialism generates in
the backward countries, which is linked to a decrepit feudalism and in
submission to imperialism which is the last phase of capitalism. This system
does not serve the majority of the people but rather the imperialists, the big
bourgeoisie, and the landowners.” Further, “... bureaucrat capitalism is no
more than the path of imperialism in a semi-feudal and semi-colonial country
and without semi-feudal and semi-colonial conditions there would be no
bureaucrat capitalism.” This clarifies that the deepening penetration of
imperialism in the villages is the development of bureaucrat capitalism and
that it will never lead to the elimination of feudalism. Feudalism will be
retained in one form or other. Bureaucrat capitalism is not just a matter of
imperialism and the big bourgeoisie; it also serves the big landowners.
In a speech Gonzalo had pointed out, “Bureaucratic capitalism
develops three lines within its process: a landlord line in the countryside, a
bureaucratic one in industry, and a third, also bureaucratic, in the
ideological sphere.” He added, “This is without pretending that these are the
only ones.”(The National Question, 1974) Bureaucrat capitalism is promoted by
imperialism through the transformation of feudalism. In the post-1947 period,
under neo-colonialism, this has been mainly done through the
comprador-bureaucratic bourgeoisie. This transformation is not a supersession
of feudalism by capitalism. It is an intermeshing of both. This is the
particularity of this form of capitalism. Therefore, similar to the marking of semi-feudal
relations by bureaucrat capitalism, bureaucrat capitalism is also marked by
feudalism, in our situation caste-feudalism. This is true of both industry and
the ideological sphere. Furthermore it is important to keep this in mind while
examining the question of the superstructure, including political power.
As can be seen from our account of the colonial impact in Keralam, the
growth process of bureaucrat capitalism begins with colonialism. Once colonial
domination was consolidated, the old caste-feudalism no longer remained the
same. It was subordinated and enmeshed in the worldwide imperialist web. A
share of the surplus of kings and landlords, though extracted through the old
caste-feudal methods of exploitation, was now channelled into the formation of
bureaucrat capital. Often they themselves were directly involved in setting up
industries, railways and plantations. When modern big industries were being set
up in Keralam in the late 1940s, the Thiruvithamkoor monarchy invested Rs.
11.44 crore as capital and loans in 16 big enterprises, collaborating with
imperialist capital from the U.S, Britain, Canada, Germany, Belgium and
Switzerland. Caste-feudalism was made over into the social base of imperialism directly
through its land monopoly and through such transformations, which were
simultaneously the process of growth of bureaucrat capitalism.
The comprador-bureaucrat bourgeoisie had the leading role in the ruling classes’ alliance to which British colonialism transferred power in 1947. It was consolidated during the 1960s-70s spurts in the growth of bureaucrat capitalism. This leading role is an attribute of its origin rooted in the growth of bureaucrat capitalism, namely its emergence under conditions of subservience to imperialism and along with the imperialist transformation of feudalism. This leading role was not gained on its own strength, compared to caste-feudalism. It is not at all a matter of capitalism displacing or subordinating caste-feudalism. Caste-feudalism lost its leading role through the consolidation of colonialism. It is dominated primarily by imperialism, not bureaucrat capitalism. Being a distinct class the comprador-bureaucrat bourgeoisie has its distinct interests. While this at times may give rise to contradictions with some or the other imperialist power, it can never act independent from imperialism as a whole. The leading role of the comprador-bureaucrat bourgeoisie does not give it unfettered rights or privileges within the ruling classes’ alliance or in deciding policies. Ultimately it is imperialism that matters and imperialism needs both feudalism and bureaucrat capitalism as its main props. Therefore every step taken by the state in the direction of furthering bureaucrat capitalism also recreates room for some caste-feudal elements and relations transformed according to the needs of imperialism, even while certain other elements and relations get eliminated or suppressed.
The matter of local power is
to be understood in this frame. In a capitalist society there is only one
ruling class. Its political power is exercised all-over the country. While
kingdom-wide power existed in caste-feudalism it was mainly structured and
exercised locally. In our situation, we have two ruling classes, both serving
imperialism. The class content and structure of power has changed. The
political power exercised throughout the country represents the combined
interests of all three. But the leading factor is that of imperialism and the
comprador bureaucrat bourgeoisie. This is mainly actualised through a common
structure, bureaucracy, law etc. But imperialism doesn’t eliminate feudalism.
Similarly, the modern, all-India power structure hasn’t eliminated local power.
However the ambit of local feudal power is contained within this overarching relation.
This is the frame within which we will try grapple with the new modes of
exercising local power. But before that we must update the account of
transformations.
Agrarian reforms and after
The first major
attempt at agrarian reform in modern Keralam was the EMS ministry’s Act of
1959. What exactly was the situation then? Colonial influences, in particular
its promotion of a plantation economy, had already brought about substantial
changes in land relations. Around the time of the adoption of the 1959 Act, nearly
three fourths of the garden land in Thiruvithamkoor and half of it in Kochi
were free of tenancy. In Malabar most of it was still under tenure. Paddy lands
in all the three regions were mainly rented out. New forms of tenancy had
emerged in those very areas where traditional forms had more or less
disappeared. All the landlord families who were collecting rent had entered new
avenues. Overall, a situation where agrarian and non-agrarian sources of
livelihood were intermingled in family income had already emerged. One fifth of
those who enjoyed some form of control over land were not dependent on
agriculture.
Even then, the link between caste hierarchical
status and monopoly over land and the landlessness of Dalits remained as
decisive relations of production. Nairs were at the top in
landownership. Savarna Christians came second. Ezhavars (an avarna caste) were
at third spot, but their share was way below proportion in population. The Namboodirees had 6 times more land. Other
savarna castes had 13 times more. Half of owned land was controlled by all the
savarna Hindus. If the savarna Christians are also included, then the savarnas,
slightly more than a third in population controlled 66 per cent of the land.
They still were mainly renting out land. Meanwhile, the number of landless had
swollen. A large number from non-Dalit castes were pushed down into the ranks
of agrarian workers. However, the Dalits continued to be the single largest
group in the agrarian labour force. All of this should have obviously been a
matter of great import for land reforms.
Adopted by
the legislative assembly in 1959, the Agrarian Relations Act came into force in
1961, only to be struck down by the courts soon after. A new law was adopted in
1963 but a number of its key clauses were not made operational. This law was
later modified to some extent through amendments brought in by the 1967 seven
party coalition led by the CPM and finally implemented in 1970 by the
CPI-Congress coalition. Over this period, many governments, quite varied in
political complexion, came and went. The 1963 law was framed by the
PSP-Congress coalition led by Pattom Thanu Pillai. It was more favourable to
the landlords. Yet, a close comparison of the 1959 law and the laws and
amendments that followed reveals that, except for the level of compensation
granted for excess land and scope of exclusion from the ceiling, the degree of
correspondence between the ‘non-communist’ law of 1963 and the ‘communist’ law
of 1959 far outweighed all differences.
Plantation
land was already exempted from the reforms by the 1959 Act. In fact, room for
granting more commercial crops, other than rubber, coffee and tea, this benefit
was first introduced by the 1959 Act itself. Denial of rights to the bonded
landless peasants was yet another important area of agreement. All the land
reform laws were united in granting the status of an agrarian relation solely
to the one between the landlord and tenant. The undeniable role in agricultural
production of the kudikidappu system, emergent from the colonial reform
of adiyaalatham, was ignored. It was reduced to a mere matter of
residence. The labour exerted by those living in the kudikidappu in
reclaiming waste land, paddy production, coconut farming and the manufacture of
agricultural implements was obviously agrarian in its nature. But it was
categorised as casual labour. The rightful demand over land naturally posed by
their agrarian labour was thereby excluded from consideration. Instead of the
right to lands made fertile through generations of labour they were allowed the
largesse of surplus land. Hence these laws never went beyond affecting some
improvement in the right to permanency of residence, already granted by earlier
reforms. All the agrarian reform laws ignored the structural importance of the kudikidappu
system – itself a reform of adiyaalatham – and took the simple
equation of “peasant equals tenant” as their basis. This was the caste-feudal
kernel.
In the long
journey of landless peasants from adiyaala labour, to labour tied up in kudikidappu
relations in the ‘master’s’ land, and from there to the present dependent
labour where they have to suck up to the landowners for livelihood
opportunities, what persists untouched is the non-agrarian status enforced by
caste-feudalism over the landless Dalits and Adivasi and their exclusion from
agrarian land. Those who prefer to see this as an inevitability of capitalist
reforms, liberating labour from traditional ties only to bind it up in new
ones, should also explain why the poor tenants escaped this fate. Before and
during the whole reforms process a large number of tenants-at-will, share
croppers and informal tenants were evicted from the lands they tilled. But this was not a due outcome of reform
regulations. Rather, it was an exception; a result of evasion by landlords. The
tenant status of poor peasants protected them to some extent. The loss of land
they later suffered was an outcome of financial pressures. But this wasn’t the
case with the kudikidappukar. Their right to land was never an issue for
the reformers. Economic interest in forming a pool of cheap labour has
evidently operated here. But the stamp of caste is also clear and not just
because the majority of kudikidappukar happened to be Dalits and Adivasi.
Caste-feudalism stands out as the prime culprit in setting the historical
context for the denial of right.
The outlook
of the Indian National Congress on the kudikidappu issue was quite
expectable. Traditional and new savarna landlords have always had a dominant standing
in it and it has never gone beyond Gandhian savarna condescension in the caste
question. Indeed, the surprise would have been if it had recognised the caste
dimension of the agrarian question. But
this was not the case with the 1959 Act and the 1970 Amendments. They were
framed by those like EMS Namboodiripad who had written theoretical pieces about
“caste-landlord-feudalism” and, in their political practice, had enough and
more opportunities to directly observe the role of the landless kudikidappukar
in the agrarian structure and the consequent caste oppression they faced.
Which class and caste interests guided them?
“Kudikidappukar
and ulkudikars shouldn’t be evicted for any reason.” – other than
this one sentence, the twenty-nine pages long manifesto-like Resolution adopted
by the 1956 Kerala State Conference of the undivided CPI had nothing on the kudikidappu
issue. Its three pages devoted solely to agrarian reforms didn’t take up an
analysis of the kudikidappu system. After restricting this issue to one
sentence it went on to discuss various demands of “agricultural labour”, as if
this was totally unconnected to the kudikidappu question. And the
demands listed out are surplus land, just wages and work time, cottage
industries, houses and credit facilities. (The CPI and CPM can rightfully claim
that their 1956 conference had anticipated the 20 point and IRDP programs of the
late Indira Gandhi!) Apart from all this there is one demand that touches on an
issue faced by agricultural labour in the context of the agrarian structure –
“Abolish by law the system whereby agricultural labourers, in particular
Harijans, are kept as slaves and rented out by landlords and naattupramanimar,
in all of its forms.” This was certainly commendable. But let us recollect that
it was being proposed in 1956. The paradox of agricultural labourers being
enslaved and rented out even a century after adiyalatham was abolished,
the particularity that this was being done by feudal lords – all of this should
certainly invite analytical examination from any Marxist. Quite expectedly,
there was nothing of that sort. Besides, though adiyaala labour was
still existent in this period, it was by no means the general form of feudal
bondage faced by landless peasants. By referring to remnants of the old form of
bondage in the agrarian economy and ignoring the particularities of the new
bondage that existed widely in the form of the kudikidappu system, the
1959 Resolution was actually uniting with some aspects of reformed
caste-feudalism. Other than taking up further reforms, the task of totally
destroying caste-feudalism was never a part of its perspective. And if this was
the content of a party Resolution, one need not be surprised at the output of the
CPI government functioning within the framework of the Indian Constitution.
The agrarian reforms were finally formalised in 1970. By this
time more changes had taken place. Savarna land ownership had further fallen
and that of the Avarna castes had increased. Yet the Savarna castes are still
in the forefront with a share well above their proportion in the population.
Meanwhile, Dalit landlessness or land poverty remained unchanged, more or less.
Though the Avarna castes gained land, only a tiny section could really benefit.
A few elevated themselves to become landlords while the majority remain
landless or land-poor. On the other hand, while the Savarna castes lost their
land monopoly, Savarna landlords still own sizeable amount of land. Most of
those who own more land are Savarnas, even today. But a large section of Savarnas have either
lost their land or suffered reduction in its extent. They have joined the folds
of industrial workers or agricultural labourers. This has mainly happened in
the coastal strip and the midland, where the development of the non-agrarian
sector is more pronounced. What stands out is that, despite all the
transformations, the Savarnas still retain the highest proportion of
landowners. As for those traditionally landless, the Dalits, they continue in
that rut. To sum up, the basic elements of the caste-feudal landownership structure are still actively in
place, particularly at the lower level.
It is meaningless to argue that caste-feudal or the caste structures
have been overturned by pointing to shifts that are seen in the
caste-landownership relation or the fact that some sections from the Savarna
castes have been pushed down to the fold of agricultural labourers. The Avarna
castes, especially the Ezhavars, obtaining land or a minority among them
becoming landlords, do not even deserve consideration in this matter. The
process by which those in the upper layer of the lower sections of the caste hierarchy
improve their assets and status and some even became landlords has always been
a part of the dynamics of the caste structure. To give a relevant example, it’s
well established in historical studies that the Shudra Nair’s landlord status is
barely six centuries old. The transformations undergone by various castes, in
general, are totally insufficient to give a correct answer to the question of
whether what is seen is the continuation of caste-feudalism or capitalist development. Our criteria must be
the relations that rule over the landless, poor peasants of the traditional adiyaalar castes and tribes.
Have the landless, poor peasants and
casual labourers in the countryside from various Dalit castes and Adivasi
tribes, who were adiyaalar, become
‘free’ agricultural or non-agricultural labourers, liberated from ‘extra
economic coercion’, a prominent feature of feudalism? Did the right to kudikidappu land (hutment land) prepare the material basis for this? At the
level of caste, a fundamental principle of caste-feudalism by
which it denied even a bit land to the adiyaalar
caste and tribes was formally abolished. This was the caste implication of
their getting land as a legal right, instead of acquiring it as a gift.
Further, the servitude of the kudikidappu
towards the landowner was formally ended. The obligation to give priority
to their work also ended. None can deny these facts. But the truth that social
consciousness cannot travel much ahead in space and time, separated from social
existence, also revealed itself in due course. Extra-economic coercion and
obligations - old and new - still continue to be an inseparable part of the
existence of the landless, poor peasants (especially, for Dalits and similar Adivasi
tribes).
By 1970, most of the tenanted land
was in paddy fields. Garden land was mainly owned. A huge extent, far more than
the declared surplus land, had already been taken out of the ambit of reform
laws by conversion to plantations (exempted by law) and benami deals. Most of
the tenants, who became landowners after 1970, were already engaged in other
occupations. Therefore the reforms formalised and promoted land ownership of
those for whom agriculture was no longer an economic necessity. We will term
this ‘unengaged land ownership’. Though this was predominant, there still was a
sizable section among the bigger landowners who continued to rely on
agriculture. Their entrepreneurship led to a boom in paddy production in the
immediate years following the land reforms. But the arrival of cheaper rice
from the main Green Revolution areas like India, such as coastal Andhra
Pradesh, soon cut into the profits made in paddy cultivation. Since then this
has been on a steady decline. Unengaged land ownership has increased manifold. Huge
tracts of land have been dug up for brick fields, filled up for resale as
resident plots. Even more lie waste. This is often described as the paradox of
land reforms in Keralam – instead of unleashing agricultural production it has
triggered of a sharp decline. The fact is that the decline is seen only in food
production. The 1970 land reforms triggered off an even sharper jump in the
acreage and production of plantation crop, like rubber, coffee etc. It promoted
this by various means. Landlords who switched to plantations were exempted from
surplus ceilings. Unengaged land ownership created a favourable base for plantation
crops since they require the least amount of direct attention. Besides, as in
the case of rubber, huge subsidies were given. At the other end, tenancy of all
types – share cropping, cash rent and labour rent- is steadily spreading out.
This is mainly subsistence tenancy, a supplementary occupation for the landless
and poor. The rent is rather heavy, going up to even fifteen to twenty thousand
rupees per acre. In recent years, self-help groups have been widely encouraged
by governments – LDF and UDF – to take up tenancy, financed by bank credit. In
sum, the net content of these agrarian reforms did nothing to break away from
the trajectory set by colonialism – more of plantation economy, more of
dependence, transformation/retention of caste-feudalism, landlessness of the
bottommost sections of society.
We now return to the question of
local power. How has this been affected?
New modes of local power
Let us start with some observations on the
landlord class in Keralam. A handful at
the pinnacle with land ranging from a few thousands to more than a lakh acre,
below that a pyramidal spread out where the numbers increase in inverse
proportion to the decrease in acreage –such is the overall composition of the
landlords in Keralam. They separate out as the big, middle and small landlords.
The basis of this differentiation is the variation in their monopoly over land.
At the lowers level, at least half of their total income comes from land. But
they don’t participate in agrarian activities. The topmost stratum is composed
of private or public (state) comprador bureaucrat capitalist plantation owners.
They usually don’t interact, directly, with the surrounding rural communities.
Local control is exercised through intermediaries at the State level. Unlike
this, the middle and small landlords are actively present at all levels of
rural society. Their income is not sourced from land alone. It spreads out into
trade, money lending, industry and other fields. Yet, they cannot be qualified
as ‘capitalist’ landlords. Existing intertwined with imperialism and
bureaucratic capitalism, they do exhibit some capitalist characteristics. But,
the feudal element is inevitably present, though it may vary. There is no
landlordism without it. They are the political, economic, social
representatives of semi-feudalism. They are mainly traditional savarna Hindu
landlord castes, with additions from the savarna Christians, Muslims and
Ezhavars.
In the
typical caste-feudal society, or any type of feudal society, political and
economic dominance is a matter of birth right. But, in modern Keralam, its role
in the political and social realms has been considerably weakened; strikingly
so in comparison to other States. The credit no doubt goes to the
democratisation promoted by the mainly avarna based renaissance and the
communist movement. Both shared the advantageous feature of ‘coming from
below’. In the absence of a radical democratic uprooting of the old, these
values have eroded over the years. Yet, the semblance of separation of the
economic realm from the political and social ones remains. This is sustained
through an almost total spread of mainstream political organisations and a rich
variety of social organisations. Therefore, instances of the local landlord or
coalition of exploiters exercising power more or less directly are extremely
rare in Keralam today. In its stead, they carry out local control through their
‘naattupramaanitham’, the police and other instruments of the power
structure, and by way of political parties. Naattupramaanitham can be
loosely translated as local hegemonism. Derived from the Malayalam word ‘pramaani’,
it carries the connotation of savarna feudal supremacy and arrogance.
In
modern Keralam, mainstream political parties and their mass organisations
appear as “intermediaries” between the people and the state. To get something
done by the state apparatus, particularly by its repressive arm like the
police, to get a loan from government institutions or co-operatives – their
mediation is unavoidable. In actual fact
this is nothing but the exercise of power appearing as “the mediation of
power”. These servitors and representatives of different factions of the ruling
cases (and thus of the different imperialist powers) are an inseparable part of
the oppressive state. Therefore, if “party monopoly” at the local level –
mostly of the CPM and also of the RSS, Congress or others – commonly observed
throughout Keralam is reduced to a matter of organisational hegemonic
sectarianism or social fascist tendencies, its class essence will remain
concealed. The “party monopoly” protects and carries out the class interests of
the local landlords and other exploiters. It is an instrument, a form, of the
local exercise of their power.
In
circumstances where the caste order still enjoys a prominent position, one also
sees the sustenance of previous caste hegemonies or the institution of new ones
through and within party monopolies. For example, where savarna Hindu landlords
have waned and savarna Christian, Muslim or Ezhava landlords – alone or in combination
– have usurped that position, the ‘local monopoly’ can shift from one party to
the other. Relations of caste dominance within parties also get
reconfigured. This creates space for the
entry of new parties. Consequently, till the matter of ‘local monopoly’ is
settled, a series of party clashes breaks out. (Local or class-wise
differentiation within castes can also provoke such clashes.) Where the
leaderships of the concerned political parties have common class or caste
interests, clashes are provoked to keep the basic masses divided. Shared caste
interests of leaderships at times acts in the opposite way to end clashes,
especially where their caste-fellows are getting hurt.
The
visible force mustered by political parties in Keralam lies in the mass organisations
they control. Though not as shrewd in this matter as the CPM or CPI, this is
true of the Congress and other political parties too. The RSS follows
cadre-party methods and pays a lot of attention to mass organisation. The poor
and middle classes provide most of the membership for all these mass
organisations and they constitute the activist force. But control is with the
local exploiters. This is commonly seen, even in the case of agricultural
labourers or workers organisations.
Moreover, in every area, all the mass organisations of a party get
deployed as a hierarchy. In rural areas, those claiming to be peasants’
organisations are usually seen at the top of this pecking order. The old and
new landlords are a direct, active presence in them. We will cite a study of
class relations in Keralam in the post-land reform period. The author evidently
subscribes to the theory of capitalist growth. Hence all landlords are
characterised as “capitalist landlords”. What is relevant for us is the fact
that all of them were members of either the Congress led ‘Karshaka Samajam’ or
the CPM led ‘Karshaka Sangham’ (peasant mass organisations). They had party
membership. Meanwhile, all of them were also present in the local ‘Water User’s
Association’, a body that represented the common interests of the landlords.[1]
A large number of the rural poor were indebted to these landlords who had
cornered most of the institutional credit.
Though
published in the late 1990s, its field study was done in the 70s. Have things changed
since? Yes, the overwhelming dependence of the rural poor on local exploiters
has been reduced to a significant degree. But far more than institutional
credit, easy, informal, credit, disbursed by Tamilian loan agents at the
doorsteps of poor and rich alike (Tamil blades in local slang) has been
instrumental in loosening up, and even making redundant, local usury’s
traditional ties. The ultimate source of this credit is semi-feudal usurious
capital from Tamil Nadu. The interest burden can go up to 120 per cent, and
even more, per annum. This is an index of the heavy burden born by the rural
poor when they free themselves from one tie of semi-feudalism by relying on yet
another one. Yet this atrocious rate is still bearable since repayment is by
weekly instalments. Most importantly, credit availability is collateral free
and immediate.
But,
besides this, the spreading out of co-operative banks has also been a
contributive factor. This was initiated by the LDF and continued since then by
the Congress led UDF ministries. Departing from the existing format, the CPM
pushed through legislation that allowed co-operative banks to spread out in
panchayats by opening up new branches. This immediately increased the
availability and accessibility of institutional credit. As could be expected
such ‘progress’ carried with it a significant cost – the replacement of
traditional ties by new ones, more in correspondence to the changes taking
place in the rural areas and quite sophisticated in its presentation.
Co-operative
banks are an important convergence site of bureaucrat capitalism and
semi-feudalism. They are funded, and re-capitalised, through the Central
government’s NABARD, in its turn initially seeded by the World Bank. They also
garner a good share of the surpluses of local exploiters, mainly landlords.
Co-operative capital is thus a mix of imperialist, bureaucrat capitalist
capitals and local, semi-feudal, surpluses. Controlled by factional coalitions
of the local exploiters through elected party panels, they are not just a
source of easy credit for them. These institutions are a potent means of
exercising power. By ways of the right to grant or deny loans, insist on
mortgage recovery or postpone it, the landlords and other local exploiters are
able to impose relations of patronage, a prominent aspect of naattupramaanitham,
on the poor and middle peasants. This is also done through other types of
co-operatives, such as industrial ones and milk societies. There, the promise
or denial of employment is deployed in the service of patronisation.
Panchayats, which now have budgets running into crores with Central-State
funding, are also means of dispensing patronage. These institutions have in
turn tightened the grip of political parties over the lives of the masses.
Thus,
earlier forms of local control are replaced by new ones. Yet this is not a
process of total elimination of feudalism. Modern institutions, the political
and economic instruments of capitalism, the co-operative and its loan capital,
or the panchayat and its services, are employed to refurbish the old. Feudal
relations and values, i.e., naattupramaanitham and it patronisation, are
now entrenched in rural society through modern means. Of course, these
relations and values are not a simple repeat of earlier ones. Elements of
capitalism are now intrinsic to them. The support points in the matrix of local
power are also strikingly different.
In
other words, even where the scion of an old landlord family is seen in a
position of power – as a party leader, the president of the panchayat or
co-operative director – it is premised on ‘political support’, not overt birth
right. This is both posture and substance. It is posture, since the political
lives (a symbol of modernity) of such feudal elements are means to protect and
sustain, to the extent possible, the traditional caste-feudal dominance their
family used to enjoy. It is doubly a posture because they are chosen as
candidates and front-end representatives by political parties precisely for the
feudal worth of their “family name”. But the substance is also undeniable – on
their own, without the instrument of a popularly acknowledged political party,
their chances of acquiring position would be rather low. This is indeed an
index of transformation. The landlords have more flexibility in handling this since
their caste-feudal social and economic worth provides them the opportunity to
tender it to some other political party. But once again it must be mediated
through these modern institutions. This substance is brought out most
strikingly in instances where persons of ‘low feudal worth’ are in positions of
power, solely due to political backing. All the styles and patronising
attitudes of caste-feudal naattupramaanitham are readily and quickly
imbibed by them, irrespective of political colour and their own class, caste
background. But the moment they lose the favour of political bosses they are
shorn of all position and privilege and return to the ranks of ‘nobodies’.
Those who till then sucked up to them for patronage now ignore them. The
exception to this is where those who have come into some position are able to
utilise it as a means of personal economic elevation. This brings us to another
facet of the issue at hand. While examining the new modes of exercising local
power we have mainly dealt with the power of traditional landlords. We will now take a look at the new lords.
Following
the land reforms in 1970, three large paddy fields in Kuttanad (Chithira,
Maarthandam and Rani), totalling 1756 acres, were seized as surplus land from a
landlord. It was distributed among 1600 poor and landless peasant families.
This was done on condition that they would all become members of a collective
farm to be tasked with cultivating that land. In effect their landownership became
a formal affair. It was more like a share in the collective farm. This too was
of no tangible value. The director board of the collective was composed of
trade union activists. All of them came from poor, landless peasant, avarna or Dalit
families. In law the board was only an executive body. Ownership resided with
the 1600 families. Yet the very structure of the collective was such that they
were bound to it in perpetuity. They didn’t have the right to dispose of their
land or utilise it according to their choice. They couldn’t even identify their
‘own’ piece of land since such marking out became ‘unnecessary’ with the
formation of the collective. Other than possession of a piece of paper that
recorded their ‘ownership’ they had nothing new. In all senses they were made
dependent on the director board. The board not only exercised control, it
became the de facto owner. What passed as collective land ownership was in fact
corporate land ownership of the board members. They acquired this position
through the backing of the government and its capital investment. In other
words, this was another form of bureaucrat capitalist ownership – the corporate
form of bureaucrat capitalist landlordism. In the production relation that
contained this new form of ownership, the de facto owners put on airs of
savarna landlordism, used the levers of patronage and lorded over the real
toilers. The peasants remained trapped in ties of dependence having more in
common with their earlier status under the old landlord, than their new one as
‘owners’.
Over
the years the collective went on making losses. The members of the collective
were saddled with huge debts run up by the director board. Unlike the
elusiveness of their ownership, this burden was quite material. It was
apportioned out. Each one was held liable separately. The land was finally
leased out to others. Meanwhile one of the director board members came to
possess 50 acres, and another 26 acres, individually! The corporate form of
bureaucrat capitalism thus spawned new additions to the private form of
landlordism. Incidentally, the caste-feudalism specific to Keralam was quite
conversant with corporate ownership. The 'Namboodiri yogam' of the middle
ages, charged with the collective control and management of the temple and its
properties, was an example. Historical and contemporary evidence thus
illuminate that collective control or management in itself is not
representative of any specific production relation. We must dig deeper to get
at the essence. Incidentally, this form of ‘collective’ farms was widely
employed by the CPI-Congress ministry headed by the C. Achuyutha Menon.
Landless Adivasis too were ensnared in the corporate landlord form of
bureaucrat capitalism.
In the
example cited above, the private acquiring of land by some members of the
collective’s director board was visibly a case of misappropriation. Public
position and property were illegally used, directly, for private gain. Let us
examine another example.
The
Parappoor Co-operative Bank, located in Thrissur district, is in the business
of procuring paddy from the peasants. It delivers this to a private rice mill
at Kalady in the neighbouring Ernakulam district. In 2008 the mill’s
outstanding dues amounted to nearly R 4 crore. 3362 tonnes were additionally delivered in 2007-08, while
a due of R 2
crore was pending. Meanwhile the final payment to peasants was delayed by three
months on the plea that the co-op didn't have sufficient funds!
Co-operatives'
procurement of paddy was supposed to help peasants escape from the clutches of
private traders who forced distress sales at low prices during harvest time. It
has no doubt made a difference. Though the peasants have to wait for months to
get full payment, better rates are assured. But what exactly is going on behind
this scene of benevolence? After procurement, a part of 'co-operative' capital
gets transformed into paddy, i.e. a commodity. This is delivered to the mill
without payment. Thus the mill gets its raw material on credit. When this is
milled and sold it makes huge profits with very low investment. Capital-wise,
this is the same as carrying out its operation with the backing of interest
free, extended credit from the co-operative bank. And this done while the bank
loans out money to peasants on interest and gets quite nasty when they fail to
pay up in time.
Obviously,
a share of the profit made in the paddy deal must have gone to those
controlling the co-operative. Is this merely a bribe, a kickback? What we see
here is corporate capital (in the form of co-operative finance capital)
collaborating with private capital, and sharing in the profit. This
co-operative capital is itself a blend of local surpluses with bureaucrat
capital. By virtue of their position as directors of the co-op, those in
control are able to employ this capital to serve private interests.
Simultaneously, they can use it to extend or deny patronage and thereby build
up or consolidate their social position. The tools employed by the director
board to hang on to power, when its illicit deal was politically exposed by Porattom,
were quite illuminating. On the one hand, the party machinery of the CPM was
activated to carry out a public campaign. The widespread extension of credit
facilities compared to the Congress-board's days was invoked. On the other
hand, monetary inducements were employed by giving a liberal bonus to all
members, a first in the history of this co-op. The board thus got re-elected with
considerable majorities. In the process it also revealed the chinks in this new
set-up.
The
new mode of local domination and exploitation is based on control of public
assets/funds and positions. It often appears as a progressive step compared to
the earlier situation. For example, in the case examined above, under a
Congress director board the co-op mainly acted as a tool to serve the needs of
local landlords and the rich. Under the CPM, while membership remained tightly
controlled, credit was eased up. However, it could be availed of only on
recommendation of a CPM branch committee. Even then, this new form of control
was legitimised by populist political sympathies and, quite importantly, wider
availability of credit. But, in the final analysis, the new mode of domination
is meant to serve exploitation. The extracted surplus must be transferred. This
invariably necessitates one or the other form of misappropriation. In turn it
becomes a powerful source of delegitimisation. In the case examined here, the
fact of illicit dealing for the benefit of private interests was undeniable. So
too was the comparison of the easy terms granted to the private mill with the
harsh ones borne by the peasants. By trying to deflect public anger against
this through invoking 'progress' from the old, Congress-led, period, the CPM
only succeeded in sharpening the exposure of its degeneration. It could retain
its control of the co-op only at this cost. The peasant members obviously
returned it to power, not out of illusion, but because they didn’t have a
better choice.
Unlike the earlier direct exercise of local
power by landlords, the 'party-co-op-panchayat-police' nexus has a public,
collective, face. This makes the task of exposing and targeting it more
complex. The complexity increases where the concerned 'party' has a 'Left' hue.
But this does not mean that it can perpetually evade the people's wrath. This
mode is manifested concretely through the overt or covert clubbing up of party
leaders, panchayat authorities, co-operative society directors and local police
chiefs. Since it is only another mode of exercising anti-people political
power, this nexus necessarily exposes itself through its feudal methods, for
example the “naattupramaanitham” of its agents, and their
misappropriation of public assets. No matter what the populist banner, it is
thus revealed as a power 'standing above the people' and alienates itself from
the people. It would be appropriate to target it by mobilising the masses to
“Rally
and struggle against the new lords who have appropriated public assets and
positions.”
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