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For the better part of the past three decades the Indian polity has been in the throes of four revolutionary changes. They are in the realms of political mobilization, secularism, foreign policy, and economic policy making. These transformations have not moved in tandem but have overlapped with one another. Nevertheless, they collectively represent a steady and potentially fundamental remaking of many features of the Indian political landscape.
Of the four transformative movements, the social revolution in India has been in the making for perhaps the longest time span. It involves the rise of India's lower castes especially in northern India, from what Marx once referred to in another, but related, context as “the sleep of ages.” Such a revolutionary upsurge had already taken place in southern India during the 1960s. Now through the process of growing media exposure, increased literacy, and, above all, through participation in local, regional, and national elections, India's hitherto dispossessed are finding their political voice. Since the 1980s this process has accelerated and altered the texture of Indian politics dramatically by throwing into disarray long-held assumptions about the predictable voting behavior of the lower castes. Instead of routinely turning to the once-dominant Congress Party, lower-caste voters have demonstrated much-greater independence and have switched their loyalties to local, ethnic, and regional parties. Accordingly, their political unpredictability has made and unmade governments at state and national levels. There is little reason to believe that this growing political sophistication will come to a close in the foreseeable future.
India has attempted a bold experiment in democracy and development. There was no dearth of scholars, public intellectuals, and statesman who had argued that democracy could not take hold in a populous, diverse, and poor country. How could democracy be consolidated in the absence of a substantial middle class? Given the many apparent impediments that were strewn along the pathway toward democracy, the dominant strains of social science literature would lead us to conclude that the prospects for the emergence and consolidation of democracy in India were less than propitious.
Despite these hurdles, democracy did emerge in independent India. In considerable measure the roots of India's democracy must be traced to the genius of the nationalist movement. Its leadership managed to successfully draw on British liberal ideas and instill them in the Indian political context. India's principal nationalist leaders, including Mohandas Gandhi, Jawaharlal Nehru, and the architect of India's constitution, Bhimrao Ambedkar, had shared a pluralistic vision of India. Mohandas Gandhi, the principal exponent of Indian nationalism, converted the elitist Congress Party to a mass-based political organization. The practice of democracy within the Congress Party long before independence laid the foundations for the future consolidation of democracy in India. India's first prime minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, was a liberal who nurtured the practice of democracy and respect for minority rights in postindependent India.
This article seeks to explain how, given Japan's “nuclear allergy” following World War II, a small coastal town not far from Hiroshima volunteered to host a nuclear power plant in the early 1980s. Where standard explanations of contentious nuclear power siting decisions have focused on the regional power utilities and the central government, this paper instead examines the importance of historical change and civil society at a local level. Using a microhistorical approach based on interviews and archival materials, and framing our discussion with a popular Japanese television show known as Hatoko's Sea, we illustrate the agency of municipal actors in the decision-making process. In this way, we highlight the significance of long-term economic transformations, demographic decline, and vertical social networks in local invitations to controversial facilities. These perspectives are particularly important in the wake of the 2011 Fukushima crisis, as the outside world seeks to understand how and why Japan embraced atomic energy.
Histories of public space generally assume a strong correlation between the health of a nation's civil society and the vibrancy of its public sites, in so much as the latter provide an observable venue for free assembly and popular protest. This essay, while not opposing such a view, offers a corrective to the kind of history it encourages, wherein public space appears politically relevant only at its most visible moments. Framing the analysis is Japanese provincial writer Miyazawa Kenji (1896–1933) and his “Poran no hiroba” (Poran's Square), which survives as a piece of school theater and an evolving prose narrative about a rural youth who reclaims for his agrarian community a site of shared assembly. By interrogating public space as an object of the literary and theatrical imagination, specifically in the context of interwar rural Japan, the author argues that its less visible aspects have much to tell us about its relation to civil society, both perceived and actual, in the waning years of “Imperial Democracy.”
This article bridges Sri Lankan studies and the academic debate on the relation between contemporary Islam and politics. It constitutes a case study of the Muslim community in Akkaraipattu on Sri Lanka's war-ridden east coast. Over two decades of ethnically colored conflict have made Muslim identity of paramount importance, but the meanings attached to that identity vary substantively. Politicians, mosque leaders, Sufis and Tablighis define the ethnic, religious and political dimensions of “Muslimness” differently and this leads to intra-Muslim contradictions. The case study thus helps resolve the puzzle of Sri Lankan Muslims: they are surrounded by hostility, but they continue to be internally divided. Akkaraipattu's Muslims jockey between principled politics, pragmatic politics and anti-politics, because they have to navigate different trajectories. This article thus corroborates recent studies on Islam elsewhere that argue for contextualized and nuanced approaches to the variegated interface between Islam and politics.