Unlike West, we lack ethic of public participation

Ira Pande
Writer, Columnist

As I sit at my desk to write, I have no doubt at all in my mind about the subject I will choose. The haze outside my window, the visible pollutants in the air that colour it a sickly yellow are a constant reminder of what Delhi has been like this past fortnight and more. Sadly, what we thought was a particular curse of the capital around this time of the year is now a reality over much of north India. The burning fields of Punjab and Haryana, the dust flowing in from the desert areas on the west and our own traffic have created a death-inducing situation. Air pollution and its hazards are now no longer possible to ignore and yet, come Diwali, people still let off poisonous crackers and add more muck to the already overloaded atmosphere.

To be fair, the Supreme Court has stepped in and some difference was visible — this year there were fewer crackers and some private colonies issued appeals to their residents to restrain their enthusiasm when celebrating Diwali. Schools, the media and choking, coughing residents realised that the time had come to act responsibly. However, our political leaders were more concerned with blaming each other to excuse themselves of any wrongdoing and both the state and central governments failed the citizens. 

True, it is not the job of the government alone to take care of the problem of air pollution, but they had ample warning about the rising levels of air pollution to take some pre-emptive steps. After all, the fields of the neighbouring states have always burnt the stubble at this time of the year, so why did they not ensure that farmers were adequately educated and encouraged to opt for mechanised alternatives? Instead, they used this as an opportunity to seek greater funds and subsidies from the Centre. 

Rampant and irresponsible construction, sweeping roads and raising clouds of dust each morning, rubble left on roadsides — all these were possible to contain if there was a will. Typically, all such solutions were tried out but only in the fancy enclaves of government houses while the truly polluted areas of outer Delhi and the slums along the river remained untouched. Planting green borders or spraying water before sweeping happened largely in the tony colonies near the Lutyens' area and other such pampered enclaves. 

What about the residents themselves, those who are most affected by the degraded environment? Apart from a few do-gooders who have planted saplings and taken over degraded public spaces to turn them into green parks, most of us remain sullen and indifferent to our neighbourhood. Our own co-residents here, ever ready to write irate letters to the property manager about an unswept corridor or leaky taps, have shown no interest in cleaning up the area just outside our colony's gates.

Is this a Hindu habit, where we look at individual salvation but are supremely unconcerned about our neighbour? Compare this with the ethic of public participation in western countries where community bonds are strong and people actively engage in works of public good. I remember spending some time with an Austrian friend years ago and each morning he would go to the nearby Viennese woods to work on a bench he was putting up in memory of his parents. We met others there who came to weed or pick up carelessly left remnants of a picnic to ensure that these magnificent woods remained pristine. 

The same friend proudly told us that Vienna's drinking water is supplied from the local springs and needs no treatment before it is pumped into the city's taps.

The truth is that we have failed as a nation to inculcate a sense of pride in one's city. All this jingoistic chest-thumping about how great our country is or how India's economic growth is the envy of the world means nothing if we cannot ensure a clean environment and safe drinking water to its citizens. On almost every index of human development, we are at the bottom where health, sanitation, education and human rights are concerned. Even our immediate neighbours, such as Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and the tiny Bhutan shame us here. 

So what does it profit a man (or woman) if his nation has failed to provide safety from disease and environmental degradation? We may have built the tallest statue in the world but we still have no clean air to breathe or safe water flowing out of a tap. 

Ironically, Delhi has a superb green cover, the legacy of its past rulers who built parks and gardens along the river. Lodhi Gardens and the Nehru Park are only two of its green lungs. Additionally, the Ridge that cuts across the city has traditionally saved its residents from the harmful effects of air pollution. There are forgotten or hidden gems (Sundar Nursery comes readily to mind) that are like oases of peace surrounded by the noise and pollution around them. We have only to build on that legacy and preserve it for the future to become different. From looking at environmental concerns as the area of a few loonies we have to take control of our own neighbourhoods and ensure that everyone has a spot of green to breathe or walk in.

Instead of buying air purifiers and facial masks, perhaps we should clean up our own act first.