Saturday, March 31, 2018
Fatal fall- An introducton to death
Thursday, February 1, 2018
Politics of exploitiors in the garb of saviours of the farmers

The other aspect is more glaring and disturbing and potentially sabotaging the important projects of immense importance and development of state as a whole. These so-called saviors and benevolent of farmers are in fact creating mistrust and uncertainty amongst the farmers on the name of insignificant compensation of acquired land. Fair and transparent system of fixing rates is termed as dubious. Farmers wilfully accepted the compensation amount that was on the higher side of prevalent market rates at the time of acquisition. An alternate system of Arbitration is at place to decide any issue related to compensation. Judicial scrutiny is at its place and available since the inception of the provision of acquisition. Farmers have every right to get the appropriate compensation of the land taken from them. But here comes the role of unscrupulous elements who share nothing and no land of theirs was taken for these projects. They have evil eye and design on the amount received by the farmers in lieu of their acquired land and have unholy plan to rob the farmers in the name of agitation. Farmers are made to sit-in and pool the amount to run the show which is aimed at to get the political mileage and fame on the hard earned money of the poor farmers. Sit-in planned to stop the on-going work on projects to get higher and enhanced compensation knowing that relief if any is to be decided by Arbitration or courts and they have nothing to influence except pocket the money of poor farmers in the name of agitation. It’s the democratic right of any person to agitate and say and raise their concerns even if some alternate process is available but it is not in the interest of farmers and state to lock horns on a non-issue. Such tendency not only spoil the development plan of the state but also turn the farmers on the wrong path. Such happenings provide an opportunity to the cheats and exploiters in the garb of fighting for just cause. More glaringly, such so-called leaders are not organising the farmers for larger issues related to the pathetic condition of the farmers such as providing irrigation water, inputs, crop failures and economic price of crop produce. They know if farmers are organized, on such vital issues new leadership will emerge from within the farmers and their designs will fail. This is a common happening in Haryana today. It is need of time that farmers understand this and organise themselves in the well structured organisation which may be available to raise every issue concerning the economic and social bearing of the farmers in a transparent and organized manner. Adhocism is saboteur for the welfare of the farmers and also damage the collective action on any issue. So called saviors will take away their money that should be used for furthering the cause of family and establishing some means to sustain in future. It’s the need on the part of farmers to identify the problems and their gravity and save themselves from theses sharks who have eye on their hard earned money. They will have to understand the design and unholy plan to loot their money. Struggle is the key to save the cause but it should be well crafted and guided. It is also the duty of governments to save the rights of the farmers and educate them through means available.
Bahujan Samaj Party: Genesis of social contradictions-Origin, voice of depressed section of society, growth and relevance in Indian politics
he has said repeatedly, “will belong to the Dalits and the backwards.” This is a remarkable statement for the leader of India’s largest upper caste-dominated party to make. It is responsible in no small measure for the BJP’s success in crafting coalitions between subaltern castes and upper castes that would have been unthinkable 20 years ago.
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Haryana: Civilizational Cradle or Laboratory of Political Experiments?
The Long History of Power in Haryana: From Harappans to Panchayat Exclusion
Abstract
Haryana occupies a paradoxical position in India’s history. It is among the earliest known centers of human civilization in South Asia and simultaneously a region repeatedly subjected to political violence, administrative experimentation, and democratic disruption. From Harappan settlements and epic geographies to medieval conquest, colonial militarization, and post-colonial state restructuring, Haryana has borne the imprint of power struggles across millennia. This essay situates the contemporary crisis surrounding Panchayati Raj Institutions (PRIs) in Haryana—particularly the postponement of elections and the imposition of exclusionary eligibility criteria in 2015—within this longer historical continuum. It argues that the denial of grassroots democracy reflects not administrative incapacity but a deliberate political project that treats democratic institutions as instruments of control rather than representation.
Civilizational Foundations and Historical Memory
The archaeological site of Rakhigarhi in Hisar district has fundamentally altered our understanding of the Indus–Saraswati civilization. Excavations have revealed urban planning, craft specialization, and material culture that rival—and in some respects predate—other major Harappan centres¹. Together with sites such as Mitathal and Agroha, these findings establish Haryana as a foundational zone of early urban civilization rather than a peripheral extension of the Indus Valley.
This deep civilizational pedigree coexists with a powerful mythological geography. Kurukshetra and the surrounding 48 kos region are widely believed to be the battlefield of the Mahabharata, where the Pandavas and Kauravas fought a war framed as a struggle between dharma and adharma. Whether read as myth, allegory, or cultural memory, the Mahabharata’s spatial anchoring in Haryana has profoundly shaped popular perceptions of the region as a land where moral conflict and political power intersect.
Historians have long noted that mythological landscapes often overlap with zones of intense historical contestation. Haryana exemplifies this pattern. The persistence of epic memory alongside archaeological remains suggests not discontinuity but layered histories, in which successive regimes appropriated and reinterpreted space to legitimise authority.
Strategic Location and the Burden of Conquest
Haryana’s proximity to Delhi has been both an asset and a curse. As a gateway to the Gangetic plains, the region repeatedly became the theatre of invasions and imperial consolidation. In the early medieval period, Thanesar emerged as a center of political power under Emperor Harshavardhana, whose reign marked a brief moment of relative stability in North India.
Subsequent centuries, however, saw relentless militarization. Turkic and Afghan invasions transformed Haryana into a corridor of conquest. Religious and architectural remnants, such as the Char Qutub Masjid, reflect the region’s early integration into Islamic political networks. The burial of Razia Sultana at Kaithal—after her violent death in 1240—stands as a stark reminder of the volatile intersection of gender, power, and regional politics².
The founding of Hisar by Sultan Firoz Shah Tughlaq in the fourteenth century further institutionalized the region’s military importance. Later, the decisive Battles of Panipat—fought in 1526, 1556, and 1761—cemented Haryana’s role as the crucible in which the fate of empires was repeatedly decided³.
Colonial Rule and the Militarisation of Society
British colonialism did not demilitarise Haryana; rather, it recognized violence through institutional means. The region was incorporated into the colonial “martial races” framework, supplying soldiers to the British Indian Army. Hansi, near Hisar, became a centre of military training under James Skinner, whose regiment symbolized the fusion of colonial discipline with local martial traditions.
This militarization had lasting social consequences. It reinforced hierarchical masculinities, valorised coercive authority, and normalized obedience to command—traits that later shaped both rural power structures and electoral politics.
Rural Society, Khaps, and Informal Sovereignty
Against this backdrop of recurrent warfare and political instability, rural Haryana developed powerful informal institutions of governance. Khaps, or clan-based councils, emerged as mechanisms for regulating social relations, resolving disputes, and enforcing norms. While often romanticized as indigenous democratic bodies, khaps historically functioned as sites of social hegemony, privileging dominant castes and patriarchal authority.
Contemporary khap interventions—particularly in matters of marriage, gender, and sexuality—cannot be understood in isolation. They are the residual expressions of a long history in which formal state authority was intermittent or externally imposed, leaving local elites to exercise de facto sovereignty.
State Formation and Developmental Aspirations
The creation of Haryana in 1966 marked a critical rupture. Carved out of Punjab, the new state inherited regions widely regarded as economically backward. Agriculture was predominantly rain-fed; irrigation infrastructure was minimal; institutional credit scarce; and industrial development negligible.
Yet, within a decade, Haryana became a symbol of agrarian transformation. Public investment in canals, tubewells, rural electrification, roads, and extension services enabled farmers to capitalize on the Green Revolution. By the late 1970s, the state ranked among India’s leaders in wheat and rice productivity.
This transformation fuelled a national discourse suggesting that smaller states could deliver faster, more responsive development. Haryana’s experience appeared to vindicate this claim—at least in material terms.
Democratic Decentralization: Promise and Contradiction
Political decentralization was expected to complement economic growth. The 73rd Constitutional Amendment (1992) accorded constitutional status to Panchayati Raj Institutions, mandating regular elections, reservation for women and marginalized groups, and devolution of powers. The 74th Amendment extended similar principles to urban local bodies.
Haryana conducted its first PRI elections under this framework in 1994. However, the promise of decentralization was quickly compromised. Section 175 of the Haryana Panchayati Raj Act introduced disqualifications that went beyond constitutional requirements, most notably the two-child norm. This provision disproportionately affected women, Dalits, and the poor, undermining the inclusive intent of the constitutional amendments⁴.
Though the Supreme Court later struck down this clause, its impact persisted for multiple electoral cycles, forcing elected representatives to adopt evasive or illegal strategies to retain office.
The 2015 Crisis: Democracy Deferred
By July 2015, the tenure of PRIs in Haryana had expired. Constitutionally, elections were required within six months. Instead, the state government postponed polls, citing incomplete ward delimitation and voter lists—justifications widely dismissed as administratively flimsy.
In August 2015, the government promulgated an Ordinance introducing new eligibility criteria for PRI candidates, including educational qualifications and economic conditions such as toilet ownership. These measures were framed as reforms aimed at improving governance quality. In reality, they represented a radical contraction of the democratic base.
When challenged, the Punjab and Haryana High Court stayed the Ordinance. Rather than comply, the government rushed amendments through the legislature, securing gubernatorial assent overnight and issuing notifications with extraordinary haste. This maneuver raised serious questions about the autonomy and constitutional role of the Governor and the State Election Commission.
Exclusion by Design
Petitions filed before the Supreme Court, including those by Jagmati Sangwan and other aspirants, exposed the scale of exclusion produced by the amendments. Estimates suggested that:
82% of Scheduled Caste women,
72% of women from the general category, and
54% of men
would be rendered ineligible to contest PRI elections⁵.
The Supreme Court stayed the operation of the amendments while allowing the electoral process to continue. However, the state government’s insistence on early hearings and its refusal to recalibrate policy resulted in the entire electoral process grinding to a halt.
Political Economy of Electoral Delay
The postponement of PRI elections had tangible socio-economic consequences. Panchayat elections in Haryana are high-stakes contests, often involving significant personal expenditure. Aspiring candidates invest savings, mortgage land, or incur high-interest loans in anticipation of elections.
The prolonged uncertainty of 2015 trapped many aspirants in a Catch-22: unable to withdraw without financial loss, yet unable to sustain mounting debts indefinitely. The delay intensified factional rivalries, deepened social cleavages, and risked long-term economic distress for ordinary villagers.
The state’s rhetoric—claiming ignorance of the scale of exclusion and invoking slogans such as “Number One Haryana”—betrayed either profound administrative incompetence or calculated indifference to democratic costs.
Conclusion: History Repeating Itself
For over four millennia, Haryana has been shaped by the ambitions of those who sought to rule India—from Harappan elites and epic heroes to sultans, emperors, colonizers, and modern political executives. Each epoch left its imprint on the region’s social structure, often at the expense of ordinary people.
The PRI crisis of 2015 is not an isolated episode. It is the latest manifestation of a historical pattern in which power is centralized, participation is restricted, and democratic institutions are subordinated to elite control.
The enduring question, therefore, is not merely administrative or legal. It is civilizational and ethical:
Is Haryana a land that nurtured one of humanity’s earliest urban cultures—or has it become a laboratory where democracy itself is repeatedly experimented upon, with its people reduced to expendable subjects?
Footnotes
1. Possehl, G. (2002): The Indus Civilization: A Contemporary Perspective.
2. Lal, K. S. (1994): History of the Khaljis.
3. Richards, J. F. (1993): The Mughal Empire.
4. Supreme Court of India judgments on PRI disqualifications (pre-2015).
5. Petitions challenging Haryana Panchayati Raj Amendments, Supreme Court of India, 2015.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
Politics of crop failure in Haryana
When Economics Erases Women: A Stark Reality from Western Haryana
-Ramphal Kataria
Divorced to Save Land: How Law Is Used to Erase Women
“The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.” — Alice Walker
Haryana is a small state in northern India, administratively divided into 21 districts and 80 subdivisions. Sirsa, situated in the north-western part of the state and bordering Punjab to the north and Rajasthan to the west, presents a social reality that is both distinctive and disturbing. While rural Haryana broadly shares common socio-economic features, this region stands apart due to the overwhelming dominance of large landowners—an imbalance far sharper here than in most other parts of the state.
Land reforms implemented in Haryana during the 1970s sought to place ceilings on agricultural holdings. Landowners were permitted to retain less than 18 acres of irrigated double-crop land, up to 25 acres of single-crop land, and up to 50 acres of inferior or non-irrigated land. However, in Sirsa district—particularly in Ellenabad—the intent of these reforms was quietly subverted. At the time of implementation, much of the land was barren and unirrigated, enabling landlords to legally retain vast tracts. With the later expansion of irrigation and agricultural development, these lands turned fertile and highly profitable, generating enormous wealth for a few.
“Where there is inequality, law does not operate equally—it adapts itself to power.”
This transformation widened the economic gulf between marginal farmers and large landowners. Small farmers and landless families struggled to meet both productive and non-productive expenses—seeds, fertilizers, implements, medical treatment, and deeply entrenched social obligations such as the marriage of daughters and bhat-chhuchhak (customary gifts and monetary assistance given to daughters on ceremonial occasions). Lacking access to institutional credit, they borrowed from landlords at exorbitant interest rates. Over time, repayment became impossible. Small parcels of land were sold under coercive conditions, gradually consolidating landholdings in the hands of a few powerful families, far exceeding legally permissible limits.
The inevitable question arose: how was this surplus land to be protected from state acquisition?
The answer lay in the most vulnerable members of the family—the women.
In a society that is deeply feudal and patriarchal, women possess little voice and even less awareness of legal or economic dealings. As Simone de Beauvoir observed, “One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.” In western Haryana, this “becoming” often means learning to disappear silently.
Large landowners devised a calculated and socially sanctioned strategy: using the legal identity of married women to shield surplus land. Mutually agreed divorce petitions were filed in courts, where husbands formally consented to transfer land to their wives as a means of livelihood and maintenance. In reality, this land belonged to the surplus pool and would otherwise have been liable for acquisition.
A unit of surplus land was thus “saved” by legally dissolving a marriage.
“Patriarchy has no gender—it survives on silence.”
The cruelty of this arrangement is difficult to overstate. The woman—often a mother of young children—continued to live within the same household, raising the children of her “divorced” husband, under the same roof, but without legal status, social dignity, or security. Marriage, sanctified through sacred rituals and lifelong vows to protect a woman’s honour and safety, was reduced to a disposable legal instrument for protecting property.
This is male hegemony at its most grotesque. Women are used to fulfill sexual roles, to bear and raise children, and ultimately to sacrifice their legal existence for male economic gain. Their silence is manufactured, not chosen. As Bell Hooks wrote, “Patriarchy has no gender. Women can perpetuate it just as easily as men, when survival demands submission.”
The exploitation does not end with divorce.
In June 2014, the government notified exemption of stamp duty on the transfer of acquired property within the family. The same woman—now legally divorced—is compelled to transfer the land she received through the court decree back to the man or his family, citing herself as a divorced wife. This transaction is fundamentally untenable: once a marriage is annulled, the familial relationship ceases to exist. Yet, the process continues unchecked, robbing the state of revenue and normalizing fraud under the cover of legality.
“A woman without legal identity is the easiest subject of exploitation.”
What unfolds here is not merely economic manipulation but the systematic annihilation of women’s personhood. Economics becomes the deciding force that dictates whether a woman will retain dignity, legal identity, or even recognition as a human being within her own household.
In the so-called affluent families of this feudal order, women are expected to erase themselves to safeguard male wealth. Monetary corruption may be investigated and punished, but who will confront this deeper moral decay? Who will fight a corruption that destroys human values, abuses judicial processes, and turns women into expendable instruments of accumulation?
“The true measure of a society is not how it treats its wealthy men, but how easily it sacrifices its women.”
In this part of Haryana, patriarchy does not merely subordinate women—it consumes them. Their suffering is normalized, their sacrifice glorified, their erasure justified in the name of family honour and economic security. When a society compels its women to surrender marriage, legality, and dignity to protect land and wealth, one must ask: is this still a society of humans? Or an immoral order sustained by a uniquely brutal form of corruption—where the ultimate cost is a woman’s erased existence?
