Deferring to the diaspora

Remember the loaded phrase ‘‘brain drain’’? Remember the long lists of doctors, scientists and engineers that had migrated from India? Remember the articles in the press condemning those who had left the country for better opportunities? If one had to look for black sheep in the post-Independence era, the non-resident Indian was sure to come easily to mind.

How distant those times seem. Last week the Indian government granted Indians abroad the option of dual citizenship with a slew of rights that had been denied to them so far. A couple of days before that particular announcement, Prime Minister Vajpayee had declared January 9 as ‘‘Pravasi Bharatiya Diwas’’ with a plan to honour 10 special non-resident Indians every year. The same day, the Mumbai edition of this newspaper carried a report on a camp on Hindutva conducted by the RSS for NRI women. From being the traitor who would weaken the nascent nation, the non-resident Indian has emerged as the hero of our times.

To be fair the transformation in our perception of the non-resident Indian began about 20 years ago. The Gulf boom probably first destroyed the strongly held notion that all would-be migrants were rich Indians exploiting the subsidised education system at home to make a quick buck elsewhere; it brought home the realisation that the phenomenon was also opening a window of hope to poor labourers and unemployed youth. In the mid-eighties such distinctions seemed to become superfluous: NRI dollars in general began to look increasingly attractive and the government framed favourable policies. The endless delegations led by chief ministers of various states and others further encouraged NRI investment in India.

Sections of non-resident Indians also began to play an increasingly significant political role in India — supporting the agitation for Khalistan and the Ram Janambhoomi movement, for example — and also on behalf of India. US-based NRIs, for instance, were helpful in shifting American attitudes towards India in the Clinton era. And if one considers the widespread coverage given to the diaspora in the Indian media and vice versa, it would appear that the dividing line between the two is fast fading. Few people in today’s changed circumstances would disagree with the proposition that this is a welcome and long overdue phenomenon. Apart from the fact that most middle class urban Indians have some NRI connections, in many ways the emerging trend is inevitable given the impact of globalisation, the surge in travel and the existence of new distance zapping communication technology such as satellite television and the Internet.

Desirable though it may be, the phenomenon is at the sa-me time fraught with some danger. The danger is of the NRI factor exercising a disproportionately strong influence in India. One area in which this has already happened is of course, the cinema. Domestic filmmakers display no qualms while admitting that the excessively emotive use of patriotism and overtly ‘‘Indian’’ symbols that have become de riguer in contemporary Hindi cinema are directed at exploiting the wealthy NRI audience. Nobody seems particularly concerned that these features which have little or no relevance within the country have nevertheless helped shape a jingoistic environment that could have far-reaching political and military consequences.

On a smaller scale, but still significant, is the emergence of a trend of NRI filmmakers making films about Indians, whether in India or abroad. Films such as The Warrior and American Desi have been doing the festival circuit while Bollywood Calling and Monsoon Wedding have been running commercially in cinema houses. Engrossing though many of these may be, they raise important questions about context and perspective and little critical attention has been focused on them in this regard. Who, for instance, are these films (consciously or unconsciously) aimed at? Given our awe of all things foreign, is there a disproportionate amount of attention focused on NRI-led projects as compared to local filmmakers making similar non-formula films? Do we like them merely for their fresh outsider’s approach or for skill and deep insight?

These are questions that need to be asked. Not because we should be afraid of the new or about unpleasant revelations about ourselves. These questions need to be asked because we need to retain an awareness of the fact that despite our outward similarities the reality within which the Indian operates is not necessarily the same as that of the non-resident Indian. There could be differences of intent. Of social and cultural context. Of levels of affluence. Of levels of modernisation. Of politics. Of the significance of nostalgia. And a million other things. Regardless of how closely we may interact, it has to be remembered that it is in accordance with our reality and our reality primarily that we have to shape our priorities and our images of ourselves.

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