Choosing thy neighbour

The very process of development and change in India may be generating new forms of social and economic competition that manifest themselves in terms of social bias

Popular debate around social biases in India is structured around two competing narratives. One view holds that as an urbanising country with rapid economic growth over the past few decades, the importance of ascriptive identities such as caste and religion is gradually eroding. An opposing view holds that these biases have remained resilient in India, even in the face of substantial economic development and increasingly heterogeneous cities.

Yet, such a simple dichotomy understates the complexity in characterising social biases in India. New forms of bias may emerge while other forms fade away. While social biases often result from prejudice or chauvinism, they may also result from legitimate apprehensions about, or threats from, another social group. In order to develop a deeper understanding of the profile of social biases in India, we analyse new data from the Lok Surveys, taking advantage of both the scale and the geographic spread of the sample. Before describing our results, we note that any survey-based analysis of social bias is necessarily fraught with difficulties — questions about bias are sensitive and respondents are often unwilling to admit to their biases. Furthermore, there is no universally accepted tool used to measure bias.

Identity of neighbours

Rather than relying on complex typologies that can be impacted by preconceived notions, we focus our analysis on a simple topic, which we believe represents a core form of social bias: differences in preferences for the identity of one’s neighbours. These preferences capture important dimensions of social structure. They involve beliefs about how different social groups affect social solidarity in a neighbourhood, as well as apprehensions about interacting with different social groups. To uncover social biases in preferences for neighbours, each of our respondents was asked the following question: Would you be against having a family of (another identity group) as a neighbour?

“It is the middle class group that accounts for much of the social bias in preferences for the identity of one’s neighbours”

The part of the question in brackets was replaced by a randomly generated prompt. First, we randomised whether the respondent would receive a prompt for religious or caste bias. Then, based on this first stage, we asked about a social group different from that of the respondent. For instance, a Hindu respondent slotted to receive a religious bias prompt might be asked about a Muslim neighbour, and a Muslim respondent might be asked about a Hindu neighbour. Similarly, an upper caste individual slotted to receive a caste bias prompt could be asked about Other Backward Classes (OBCs), Scheduled Castes (SCs), or Scheduled Tribes (STs). In this manner, we generated data on a complex set of social interactions in Indian society. It should be noted, however, that the results are based on correlations, not multivariate analyses.

Overall, 27 per cent of the sample population directly admitted that they were against having a neighbour from a different religious or caste community. While this number seems high, we cannot ascertain whether this is part of an increasing or decreasing trend in social biases over time because, to our knowledge, this question has never been asked before in a large nationally representative survey in India.

There is, as to be expected, significant variation in levels of social bias across States. Punjab displays the highest level of social bias, with 36 per cent of respondents displaying an aversion to living near those of another caste or religion, while the post-split Andhra Pradesh (Seemandhra) displays the lowest levels of social bias, with 12 per cent of respondents displaying aversion. Tamil Nadu, Karnataka, Chhattisgarh and Rajasthan also had relatively high rates of social bias (each with over 30 per cent of respondents indicating an aversion).

Social bias permeates all segments of Indian society. The education level or wealth of respondents had little impact on whether they would report social bias. Furthermore, there was little difference between how village dwellers and city dwellers responded to the question; 28 per cent and 27 per cent of rural and urban respondents, respectively, indicated social bias. These findings suggest that urbanisation and improved access to education may not reduce social bias.

The majority of the variation in social biases is seen between specific identity groups. SC and ST populations demonstrated a greater aversion to living near upper castes than to living near other marginalised communities, including Muslims. In total, 29 per cent of SCs indicated a social bias against upper castes, as compared to 24 per cent towards STs, and 38 per cent of STs indicated a social bias against upper castes, as compared to 24 per cent against SCs. Given the reality of caste hierarchies, perhaps marginalised communities are apprehensive that traditionally dominant communities will discriminate against them or hurt social solidarity in their neighbourhoods. A similar story may explain why Muslims display somewhat greater aversion towards Hindu neighbours (31 per cent) than Hindus do towards Muslim neighbours (27 per cent), especially considering that much of that gap is due to the relatively high rate of “lower caste” Muslims who were against living near a Hindu family (8 per cent higher than “upper caste” Muslims).

Not all social biases are driven by marginalisation. Though our survey cannot gauge the intensity of these preferences, upper caste respondents were more likely to say they did not want to live near OBCs than any other group. Overall, 34 per cent of upper caste Hindus admitted preferences against OBC neighbours, as compared to 26 per cent against SCs and 23 per cent against STs. A politically ascendant OBC population has begun to challenge high caste dominance in many social spheres, creating greater competition for resources. Based on this data, we conjecture that social bias may also be generated from threats to power and intensifying economic and social competition.

In order to understand the role of social and economic ascendance on preferences for neighbours, we also investigated the relationship between middle class identification and social bias. In the previous piece in this series (“Being middle class in India,” December 9, 2014), our colleagues Devesh Kapur and Milan Vaishnav demonstrated that 49 per cent of all Indians, including people from all segments of Indian society, self-identified as “middle class.” They were more optimistic about the economic conditions of their family and the nation as a whole as compared to those who did not identify as middle class. The self-identified middle class was also more likely to report that their family had experienced social mobility within the last generation.

However, it is precisely this socially mobile group that accounts for much of the social bias we observe in our sample. Among those who do not identify as middle class, only 17 per cent of respondents said they did not want a neighbour from a different community. However, among those who perceive themselves as middle class, 39 per cent indicated social bias against a religious or caste community. The reasons for these large differences are not immediately clear. It is likely, however, that there is something fundamental about the construction of middle class identity that lends itself to social bias, as described in the earlier piece.

Causes for bias

Based on our data, we suggest two very different causes for bias in one’s preferences for neighbours. Marginalised communities display higher levels of social bias against traditionally dominant communities, perhaps as a reaction to historical stigmatisation and concerns for social solidarity. But traditional social marginalisation is not the whole story. Upper caste Hindus now report the most social bias against OBCs, instead of groups lower on the caste hierarchy. Those identifying as the Indian middle class display much higher levels of social bias than those who do not identify as such. We surmise that the very process of development and change in India may be generating new forms of social and economic competition that manifest themselves in terms of social bias. A modernising India may trigger the erosion of certain traditional hierarchies while, at the same time, opening the way for new cleavages based around social and economic contestation.

The attack on Charlie Hebdo

The horrific terrorist attack in Paris at the office of the French magazine Charlie Hebdo is a direct assault on the freedom of speech, thought and expression, the fundamentals on which all open, democratic societies are built. Ten staff members at the satirical weekly, including four of its top cartoonists, were gunned down by masked men who entered the building and targeted the editorial meeting in what seemed to be a well-planned and professional operation. They left shouting Allahu-Akbar, killing two policemen on the street outside before driving off in a getaway car. Since 2006, when it first published the Danish cartoons of Prophet Mohammed, Charlie Hebdo had been under threat of violent attacks by Islamist groups. Refusing to be intimidated, the publication continued to caricature Islam even after a firebombing in November 2011, just as it also relentlessly lampooned Christianity and Judaism — its Christmas week cover caricaturing the birth of Jesus was designed to provoke and cause offence. Self-censorship in order not to hurt religious sensibilities is now the norm in most parts of the world, so too in India, where media and expressions of popular culture including cinema, art and writing have to walk the tightrope daily in deference to what Salman Rushdie in an interview to this newspaper described as the non-existent “right to not be offended”: the fracas caused by Hindutva groups against the film PK is the most recent example of this. In truly democratic societies, this should not be the case, and that is what Charlie Hebdo believed and practised. Irrespective of what anyone thinks of its editorial policy, all who believe in freedom of expression and the democratic way of life must express solidarity with the magazine, and condemn this unspeakable act of violence against them.

Attacking democratic freedoms is part of a larger agenda. Whether it is al-Qaeda, IS or any other group, extremist ideology thrives best in a polarised society. If the sizeable numbers of people adhering to the Muslim faith have been able to resist Islamism, it is because French republicanism has been able to surmount even the most divisive controversies, such as the ban on wearing the hijab and niqab in public and the Islamophobic discourse by the French right-wing parties that surrounded it. While the inevitable security measures will have to be taken, it would be most unfortunate if the attack on Charlie Hebdo were to give rise to a backlash against French Muslims. That would result in precisely what Islamist groups want — an alienated Muslim population that would become a recruiting ground for their violent cause. Maintaining freedoms and equality before the law in the face of a severe challenge to security is the most difficult test for any democratic polity and society.

Democracy wins in Sri Lanka

When Mahinda Rajapaksa called a fresh presidential election two years ahead of the scheduled January 2016 end to his second term in office, he did so because he was confident of being voted back for another six years. There was no real challenger on the horizon at that time, and Mr. Rajapaksa, who had made the 2009 military victory over the LTTE the main theme of his government, believed that Sinhalese voters would once again repose their faith in him. Indeed, so entrenched had he become that few imagined he would lose, and that too to a relative unknown like Maithripala Sirisena, who was the Health Minister in the Rajapaksa Cabinet. Mr. Sirisena’s sudden emergence as a candidate of an opposition alliance took Mr. Rajapaksa by surprise. He had been unable to see, surrounded as he was by a cabal, that his one-family authoritarian rule had angered senior members of his Sri Lanka Freedom Party, and taken the shine off his image among the majority Sinhalese as the President who ended a 30-year war. The Tamil voters in the North and East, alienated as they were by the Rajapaksa government’s abject failure to face up to the challenges of post-war ethnic reconciliation, were always going to vote against him. The foot-dragging on investigations into alleged war crimes, the militarisation of the Tamil-dominated North, the hardships that this posed for the people, and the huge political failure on devolution of powers all ensured that the Tamil vote would go against him. Another significant minority, the Muslims, also shifted their allegiance away from Mr. Rajapaksa as a thuggish group of Sinhalese hardliners, the Bodu Bala Sena, went on the rampage against the community every now and then, with no apparent attempt by the government to crack down on communal violence even after a bout of deadly rioting in 2013. The departure of the Sri Lanka Muslim Congress from the ruling coalition to the Sirisena camp just days ahead of the election, was the final blow against the Rajapaksa regime.

Mr. Sirisena rode to victory on an out-and-out anti-Rajapaksa vote that rendered irrelevant his own perceived handicaps: the absence of personal charisma; a late start; doubts about whether a candidate of a diverse opposition group could provide a stable leadership; and the lack of resources in comparison to what the incumbent had at his disposal. He had to his advantage a rural base in the north-central districts of Sri Lanka, and aside from the backing of a ginger group of the ruling SLFP that defected along with him, the backing of the main opposition United National Party, and the Jathika Hela Urumaya, a party of Buddhist monks. With this he managed to poll nearly half of all Sinhalese votes cast, sweeping up in addition the Tamil and Muslim votes to win 51.28 per cent of the vote share compared to his opponent’s 47.58. The outcome is an unequivocal victory for democracy and a lesson to the whole region in peaceful regime change.

The new President of Sri Lanka has his work cut out. To begin with, the focus is bound to be on Mr. Sirisena’s campaign promise to abolish the powerful Executive Presidency, which will require a constitutional amendment supported by two-thirds of Parliament, a difficult proposition. One option before him is to dissolve Parliament and call a fresh election a year ahead of schedule. The coalition itself is made up of disparate and mutually antagonistic parties that must learn to work together. UNP leader Ranil Wickramasinghe has already been named the new Prime Minister. Former President Chandrika Kumaratunga, who, after retiring from politics in 2005 re-emerged on the scene to mentor the SLFP defectors, may well emerge as a third power centre. Quickly, Mr. Sirisena will need to repair the much-eroded confidence in Sri Lanka as a country that respects the rule of law, independence of the judiciary and media freedom. Most importantly, the new dispensation must waste no time in addressing the Tamil demand for a just peace, because on this hinges the future of the country itself. With his vast powers, Mr. Sirisena can immediately redress some long-standing demands including returning to Tamils the land owned by them that the Army took over in the 1990s and has stubbornly refused to vacate. Devolution of powers to the Northern Province should also be high on his list of priorities, and if a new Constitution is being planned with a Westminster-style government, just power-sharing with the Tamil minority should find a place. The new dispensation will also need to move speedily on addressing alleged war crimes, starting with ascertaining how many Tamil civilians actually died in the last phases of the war. But Tamil stridency on these demands will hinder rather than help matters. As the main and most credible political representative of the Tamils, the Tamil National Alliance must play a responsible role.

Tamil Nadu’s political parties must desist from fanning any extremist demands, for which there is no place on either side of the Palk Strait. For New Delhi, the change in Sri Lanka presents the opportunity to build a bilateral relationship that is based on mutual trust and honesty rather than on mutual suspicion. In recent months, the growing military relationship between Colombo and Beijing was one of the big concerns in New Delhi. As a sovereign country, Sri Lanka must be free to choose its friends and allies. But the least New Delhi can expect is that its defence concerns will not be compromised by a friendly neighbour. India’s relations with Sri Lanka are civilisational, not contractual, and despite all the ups and downs, the ties between the people of both countries, based on culture, religion and trade, have continued to flourish. Both countries have a common strategic interest in a peaceful Indian Ocean. It is from this large base that both must now work to strengthen mutually beneficial ties.

Indians to rise 100th anniversary of the Mahatma's return to India

Mohandas K Gandhi was 45 when he returned to India after spending 21 years in South Africa. Discounting the three years that he spent as a student in London, his life had been divided exactly half and half between the land of his birth and South Africa.

"I was born in India", he was to say "but made in South Africa."

We should know, in our 'Make in India' times, how important it was for Gandhi and for India that he was "made" in South Africa. We should know, too, what it was that went into that "making".

"You sent to us a lawyer", Nelson Mandela said, addressing India and Indians, "we returned to you a Mahatma".

Gandhi became what he became in the country of his adoption, not just because he was hurled out of a train one traumatic morning in Pietermaritzburg but because he came to meet, to get to know and to work with, in terms of exhilarating camaraderie and challenging colleagueship, in that distant land, a cross-section of the people of India. Had he lived and worked as a suburban lawyer in Bombay, he would have co-existed with their prototypes, rubbed shoulders with them indifferently on buses and trains, lived 'back to back' with them. But in South Africa, the dislocation, dispossession, disempowerment of immigrant life placed him in the eye of a growing storm. He saw in indenture, injustice. He saw in voicelessness, slavery, in votelessness, serfdom. He saw in racial discrimination, the very antithesis of what as a student in London he had come to value as Victorian England's political high-ground. But in this very 'hell' of adversities, Gandhi saw an enormous chance for Indians to rise above their circumstances, above the 'hollows' and the 'deeps'.

In the response to his appeal for political action, he saw in his fellow Indians extraordinary guts, unexpected stamina and above all, a readiness that he had not known in himself for sacrifice. He also saw that riven by caste and religious divisions and distrust, the Indian South African was being unjust to himself and to his fellow Indians. Would he, could he rise above the injustices heaped on him and the injustices he heaped on himself and his kind?

The answer he found from among the men and women he worked with was a resounding 'Yes!'. More, he also found bursts of solidarity - inter-caste, inter-religious, inter-language - among them. He found, in other words, not just the need but the scope for what has become a cliche - Indian pluralism.

Gandhi had been 'hired' by a Muslim firm, Dada Abdulla Seth's. He lodged, for various times, with a Parsi family, 'Parsee' Rustomji's. He, his wife and children, became part of a Hindu Tamil family - Tambi Naidoo's. He appeared in court for every segment of Indian society, charging nothing from the poor, charging the rich heftily.

Did he get to know, get to feel with and for the Africans of South Africa, for their future as the true 'owners' of South Africa? He did not, not nearly as well as he could and should have. A century after he left South Africa, this valid criticism is made by Gandhi's critics in India and elsewhere very trenchantly but very comfortably from the vantage of political evolution. But we should hear Mandela on the subject. The greatest South African, and father of that nation in freedom, has educated us on Gandhi's political and personal colleagueship with John Dube, the first President of the African National Congress.

Did Gandhi become a complete human being, a flawless leader, author of a perfect blueprint for India's greatness? No, he did not. He has been criticised, with validity but not without malice, for being a domineering husband, a unilateral householder, a very self-willed leader. But on what basis? That of his own self-excoriating writings, his own self-criticism.

The Gandhi who returned to India on January 9, 1915, as one 'made' in South Africa, was still as fallible as any, as evolving, as 'in the making', as anyone in his mid-40s. But he was almost complete in two roles - that of a satyagrahi with two major disciplined, non-violent 'mass' campaigns under his Gujarati 'belt', and that of what he called himself in his 'Farewell Letter' to Indians in South Africa - a girmitya, 'the community's indentured labourer'.

He saw India's ills beyond political servitude to Britain - her self-inflicted woes, sectarian distrust among her people, casteism, the urban-rural divide, economic disparities, sloth, squalor, superstition, and a proclivity to violence, physical, verbal, emotional. He came determined to labour for their removal. Within the very first week of his landing in Bombay, he met the foremost political leader of the time, Lokamanya Tilak, his political mentor Gopal Krishna Gokhale, the 'GOM of India' Dadabhai Naoroji, the liberal leader Srinivasa Sastri, his future political counter-point Mohammed Ali Jinnah and the Governor of Bombay and a future Governor General, Lord Willingdon. And saw a play - a rare occurrence for him - on the life of the Great Renunciate and spiritual inspiration for India's future Constitution-maker, Babasaheb Ambedkar - in 'Buddhadeva'.

Gandhi's indentured labour for a secular and egalitarian India, committed to non-violence and human dignity began thus, this week, a hundred years ago.

That India clamours to go beyond a nationalism that benumbs its pains with the fantasy of past 'greatness' and the fiction of future glory in super-powerism.

A right to offend

The murder of a dozen journalists (including cartoonists) in the office of a French satirical magazine is an extreme manifestation of intolerance and hate, and to be condemned. Islamist elements are now well known for their intolerance of anything that they consider offensive to their religion, but perhaps it is not them alone. Remember that a rationalist campaigner was murdered in 2013 on a Pune street. Those in India who might argue that the French magazine had the right to publish whatever it did, even if it caused offence, have to reckon with the fact that the country's most famous painter, M F Husain, had to live out his last years in Dubai because a painting of his had caused offence. Do attitudes or interpretations of the law on free speech change, depending on which religion is involved?

Many societies, especially those who are a part of the Western Enlightenment, admit to few if any limits on the right to free speech - including the right to offend. Free speech was included in the "Declaration on the Rights of Man" during the French Revolution as "one of the most precious" rights of man. India has a more nuanced approach; the right to free speech is a fundamental but not an absolute right; the Constitution limits it on grounds of "public order" as well as "decency and morality", all of which are elastic terms. Why, even writing that could affect relations with friendly countries is debarred. Apart from the issue of principle, there is the practical difficulty that there is no approved list of friendly and unfriendly countries. More to the point, in the broad tradition of Sarva Dharm Sadbhav (respect for all religions), it is pretty much inconceivable that any Indian publication would publish a cartoon of Mohammed in the full knowledge that it would cause offence to millions.

Salman Rushdie, whose Satanic Verses was banned in the 1980s before most people had a chance to read it, has argued that the right to offend is part of the right to free speech, and that accepting limits on that would start a society down the slippery slope. But even in societies that would agree with this, there are legal limitations on (for instance) praising Hitler, racist comment and hate speech targeting Jews. Just as the use of pejorative terms for African-Americans in the United States would be considered beyond the pale, in India casteist comment against Dalits would invite court action. So it is futile to pretend that cultural traditions and political correctness do not come into play.

Still, the willingness to take offence has grown. Aamir Khan's latest film, PK, has been watched by millions, but it has raised hackles among those professing to speak on behalf of both Hindus and Muslims. Fortunately, calls for the film to be banned have sensibly been ignored, but it has not always been that way. Meanwhile, the police had to be called in as a precautionary measure when a Hindutva brigade protested outside the office of The Indian Express in New Delhi merely because the newspaper had questioned the government version on the nature of the cargo in the boat that got blown up off the Gujarat coast. The right to free speech includes the right to protest - but not to threaten violence.

On another tack, the politician (now minister) who said that those who opposed Mr Modi should go to Pakistan was roundly criticised, just as another minister who said that those who were not followers of Ram were illegitimate had to apologise. In neither case was legal sanction sought against patently outrageous comments. So even when the law is reasonably liberal, the court of public opinion can come into play. The question is, when does public opinion uphold good sense, and when can it undermine the liberal intent of the law?

essay 1,samveg ias ,dehradun

write an essay in 1000-1200 words.post your points in comment section.

Science and Technology for Human Development.

hints :following matter may be use ful


http://samvegias.blogspot.in/2015/01/text-of-pm-shri-narendra-modis-address.html

http://samvegias.blogspot.in/2015/01/shri-narendra-modi-to-inaugurate-102nd.html

Time to honour all our founding father

 Malaviya rose to prominence as a populariser of Hindi in the United Province (present Uttar Pradesh). He attended the second annual conference of the Indian Congress and subsequently became Congress President for four times, 1909, 1913, 1919 and 1932. This feat was matched only by Jawaharlal Nehru. In Nehru’s case, twice he became president as Gandhi wanted it;  in the first instance to fulfil Motilal Nehru’s desire and in the second instance to help Nehru come out of his grief on the death of Kamala Nehru. Malaviya’s achievement was that these Presidentships meant acceptance of him by a wide range of leaderships in different circumstances.

Malaviya was a believer in the varnashrama system but had no caste prejudices. He facilitated Jagjivan Ram’s education at BHU and Calcutta University. He was the President of the Hindu Mahasabha in 1906 and retained that position for many years even after leaving the Congress in 1934. He had serious differences with Gandhi regarding the Civil Disobedience Movement in 1920-22 but participated in the subsequent Salt Satyagraha and was also arrested. His opposition to Gandhi in 1920 was about the mode and timing of the movement.

As a constitutionalist Malaviya wanted dialogue to take place within a constitutional framework in which both the views of the rulers and the ruled would be exchanged. Denial of rights and non-inclusion of the ruled cannot last long as democratic institutions were an essential pre-requisite for proper administration in a modern society.  In this context he pointed out that the 1857 revolt was because of the absence of representative institutions. He rejected the notion of ‘White Man’s burden’ as Hindus and Muslims had practiced self -government for centuries, something which the British ignored. Like the early Liberals and Gandhi he too believed in the innate British sense of justice. Echoing Gandhi, he too believed that the attention of the colonial administration is through patience and suffering and not merely by raising slogans or organising meetings.

Malaviya considered the right of self-determination to be non-negotiable and as the basic condition anywhere in the world and cited the example of Great Britain which fought the two World Wars in order to preserve the right of self-determination not only for itself but for others also. The Russo-Japanese war also demonstrated that no power could be subdued forever. History taught us, he noted, that legitimate rights whether of individuals or nations, had to be conceded and that even a generous and benevolent rule cannot be an alternative to self-rule. He also prophesied that the age of imperialism and colonialism was coming to a close. He emphasised on the need to develop conscious educated citizenship while equally stressing the evils of subordination. Despite his unshakeable belief in constitutional struggle, he appealed to the Viceroy for mercy in the case of Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and Sukhdev to commute the death sentence to life sentence as their lives could be saved. Calling for clemency on grounds of humanity, he pointed out that the actions of Bhagat Singh, Rajguru and Sukhdev was not for advancing any personal cause but motivated by their deep sense of patriotism. Execution on the contrary would be a severe shock to the Indian people in general. Commutation to life sentence would be beneficial to the British as the Indian public earnestly hoped for commutation and if that happened, then the popular perception of the British rulers would change for the better.

Malaviya looked to the past with pride, glorifying both the Hindu and Muslim periods though both have fallen from ancient glory. He pleaded for limited measure of autonomy and self -rule as a way of revival. Malaviya concurred with Besant that Indian nationalism originated in ancient times. The Vedic culture and the Vedas and the Upanisads reflected the continuity of Indian civilisation which emphasised persuasion and debarred the use of force. Believing in the contemporary relevance of the ancient Indian texts as he did, one of the important motives of his establishing the BHU was that apart from teaching modern disciplines of both natural and social sciences it would also concentrate on studying Indology.

Malaviya popularised the phrase satyameva jayata, an Upanisadic one, which has been accepted as our national motto. Believing in some important rituals, he started the popular arati at the Harki pauri in Hardwar. He was also closely associated with the construction of Laksmi Narain temples by the Birlas in New Delhi and elsewhere.  He fought equally against untouchability and wholeheartedly supported Gandhi’s demand of temple entry for the Harijans. Like Gandhi, he was a modernizer of tradition and believed in secular values which the BHU embodies. His emphasis was on culture and religion. Even the Ali brothers accepted Malviya was broadminded.

As Mr Siddiqui correctly points out, unlike Gandhi, Malaviya supported industrialisation for poverty alleviation. He popularised the sentiment of ‘buy Indian’ in order to reinforce swadeshi. He was of the view that for disseminating the nationalist view a free press was an essential requirement. With that in mind, he started an English paper, The Leader from Allahabad in 1909.  He, along with G.D. Birla and Lajpat Rai, founded the English daily, The Hindustan Times and its Hindi version, the Hindustan in 1936. He was a member of the Imperial Legislature from 1912-19. Along with Tilak, Besant and Jinnah, he played a crucial role in the historic Lucknow Pact in 1916. Though he had given up a lucrative legal practice, in 1911 he defended the accused in the Chaura Chauri case and got 156 out of 177 acquitted. He opposed the Khilafat movement as he did not want to mix religion with politics. Along with Jawarharlal Nehru and Lajpat Rai he opposed the Simon commission in 1928. He was a delegate to the first RTC in 1930. Malaviya’s idea of composite nationalism did not have any place for separate electorates, which is why he criticised the 1919 Montford Reforms and the 1932 Ramsay MacDonald communal award. Along with Madhav Shrihari Aney he founded the Congress Nationalist Party after leaving the Congress in 1934. In the same year, in the elections to the Central Legislature, the CNP won 12 seats.  Malaviya bid good bye to active politics in 1937.

Malviya is one of the finest propagators of constitutional mechanism for change, and is comparable to early liberals like Ranade, Naroji, Gokhale and Surendranth Banerjee and later liberals like Srinivasa Shastri and Sapru.

He dedicated his life to social reform, constitutional struggle and self-government. In honouring Malaviya with the Bharat Ratna it is way of reminding ourselves that many streams formed the nationalist movement to make it a success. The time has come to remember all of them, in the American way, as India’s Founding Fathers.