The Presumption Of Innocence Applies In Criminal Court, Not In The Polling Booth

For a while now, a friend of mine has been making the very persuasive argument that it is defamation and character assassination for people to keep accusing Narendra Modi of involvement in the 2002 Gujarat riots, since the accusation has been examined in great detail by the courts and dismissed as being without merit. What's more, since the prosecution has been supported by a very hostile Congress government and an investigative agency (the CBI) coopted by this government, the clean chit he has received should be all the more convincing.

Of course, the court in question is the Ahmedabad court in Modi's own state of Gujarat where his writ runs unchallenged, so one does not have to be a cynic to imagine the heavy hand of the state government tipping the scales of justice. Such things are not unheard of.

Nevertheless, my friend's argument has been weighing on my mind. Is it unfair to persist in making accusations once a court has ruled a person innocent?

It now strikes me that he overstates his case.

In a criminal case, a defendant is presumed innocent until proven guilty, and such proof has to be "beyond the shadow of a doubt", not just circumstantial or "on the balance of probabilities".

However, in civil cases, there is no concept of "guilt". The person being accused is not called a "defendant", nor is the opposite side called the "prosecution". The players in a civil case are the "plaintiff" (the person making a complaint) and the "respondent" (the person responding to the complaint). The judge does not rule on the guilt or otherwise of the respondent. The judge either "finds for the plaintiff" or "finds for the respondent". To reach this conclusion, the judge does not require proof that is "beyond the shadow of a doubt". The conclusion can be reached "on the balance of probabilities" based on evidence that may be circumstantial. Further, if the judge finds for the plaintiff, the respondent is not "punished", but only pays "damages". An adverse judgement in a civil court carries no danger of jail time, only a fine.

An excellent example of this distinction was seen during the OJ Simpson trials of the '90s. After a lengthy trial in a criminal court, Simpson was acquitted since the charge of murder (of his wife Nicole) could not be proven "beyond the shadow of a doubt". Shortly after his acquittal, Nicole's family took him to civil court, where, "on the balance of probabilities", a charge of "wrongful death" was sustained and Simpson had to pay damages to her family. The outcome pleased many, because while everyone "knew" that OJ Simpson was guilty, the evidence available was insufficient to punish him according to the law. However, a degree of justice was done.

I think we are in a similar situation today with Narendra Modi. The fact that Modi has been a lifelong member of the RSS, an organisation not known for its amity towards Muslims (or Christians), will forever colour the way he is seen with respect to the riots. Like in the OJ Simpson case, it is a matter of "knowing" he is guilty while being unable to legally prove it or ensure punishment.

But does this mean, as my friend seems to suggest, that there can be no reason now for anyone to refrain from voting for Modi? The answer, I think, lies in the analogy with the civil court.

Modi has been acquitted in a criminal court and therefore cannot be punished with a jail term. But the court of public opinion is more like a civil court where every voter is a judge. Here, circumstantial evidence and the balance of probabilities may be reasonably applied to reach a conclusion. If a voter finds against Modi, he may impose a penalty on him - his vote.

In 1960, the Democratic Party ran a brilliant campaign that cost Richard Nixon the election. The poster that did the trick turned out to be prescient, since later events proved that Nixon was indeed untrustworthy.

In retrospect, this was not character assassination at all but a friendly warning to the electorate

Yes, Narendra Modi cannot be sent to jail for the Gujarat riots, and it may be time to give up efforts on that front. But there is no reason why a voter cannot deny him a vote. It is entirely reasonable to do so "on the balance of probabilities". Unlike former prime minister AB Vajpayee, a known softie who remained largely neutral in spite of his membership of the RSS, there is nothing soft about Modi. Indeed, his toughness is one of the bragging points of his followers.

Do you trust this man to be an inclusive leader?

On the balance of probabilities, the social fabric could be damaged beyond repair with this man as PM. All of his economics and all of his efficiency cannot put a broken country together again.

From Sonapur To Singapore, Elysium Stands Exposed

Riots in Singapore! The news is shocking not just for its violent fury (vehicles burnt, police cars overturned) but also for the fact that they could happen at all in such a country - orderly, disciplined Singapore. As I followed more of the news, initial incredulity gave way to a sardonic and depressing recognition as the location of the riots and the identity of the rioters became apparent. The rioters were reported to be migrant workers from India and Bangladesh. Such unseemly events are unfortunately common in India, and if they had to happen in Singapore, it could only be in Little India.

The initial provocation seems to have been the fatal running over of a migrant South Asian worker by a private bus, but the reaction of his fellows was extreme and of surprising scale (400 persons were said to have rioted, trashing property and taking on even the police). There surely must have been some deeper, long-standing grievances that burst through the surface with this incident.

Infographic from The Straits Times analysing the riot

Cyberspace was quick as always to pick up on the race angle, and it was open season for the commentariat's stereotyping and name-calling. Officialdom, equally quick to underplay or deny the race angle, chose to emphasise an aseptic "law and order" concern instead. However, both these narratives are only partially correct. This is partly about race, and partly about law and order. But in truth, it is about economics, it is about global capitalism, it is about rising but frustrated expectations, and it is ultimately about revolution. (Historians tell us that revolutions occur during times of rising expectations, and we happen to live in one of those times.)

I'm no Marxist, but I have eyes and I can see. I believe I can see better than our political leaders and captains of industry that we cannot build a consumerist paradise on the back of underpaid migrant labour and expect eternal tranquillity. Our globalised capitalist system cannot see beyond its nose or this quarter's profit figures. Relentless in driving down the costs of its inputs and raising the prices of its outputs to whatever levels the market will bear, the system has created a social tinderbox. The recent Science Fiction film "Elysium" starring Matt Damon is a commentary on exactly what we are seeing on earth today with its bubbles of serene prosperity such as Singapore. As Wikipedia says, Elysium "explores political and sociological themes such as immigration, overpopulation, transhumanism, health care, exploitation and class issues". This is exactly the ugly can of worms that Singapore's riots have rudely laid bare.

Elysium - the world of the privileged elite

Earth - where the rest of humanity lives

As the saying goes, we don't live in an economy. We live in a society. The most powerful argument against treating human beings as "resources" is that resources are not expected to nurse grievances about exploitation and injustice. Human beings can and do.

I have personal experience of exploitation by that other Elysium - Dubai. In 1994-95, even after completing my second masters degree, I was working in India earning a pathetic salary of 8000 rupees a month. Highly educated yet poorly paid, I was living a life of genteel poverty in high-cost Mumbai, and it could not last. Marriage accentuated the unviability of my condition, so my wife and I moved into my parents' house for a modest improvement in living standards. That too could not last. It was then that I received a job offer from an employer in Dubai, and it seemed too good to be true. I was offered the equivalent of 60,000 rupees a month, and I immediately accepted, overjoyed at my good fortune. But reality hit as soon as I landed in Dubai, for two reasons. One, the amount I was paid, while generous by Indian standards, only allowed me a modest living in Dubai. Two, I quickly learned that expats from more developed countries, the UK in particular, were earning many multiples of what I did. Among my class, i.e., the educated white-collar Indian expats of Dubai, there was constant jealous muttering and grumbling about the Brits. The grapevine carried tales of new hires from the UK to senior management positions with hefty salaries and perks like villas, BMWs and four-wheel drives. One of these people, it was said, used to be a petrol station attendant back in the UK. Now he lived in a villa and drove a fancy car to work, while we Indians, with far better education, lived in modest apartment blocks and walked to work, often in the blazing Middle East sun.

Neverthless, I had it relatively easy. I have since read about the plight of migrant labour in Dubai, also from the Indian subcontinent but from more impoverished backgrounds than mine. They are paid a pittance (yet more than what they could earn in India), housed in overcrowded tenements, bused out to construction sites early in the morning and bused back in the evening. The Dubai township where many of them are housed is called, with deep irony, Sonapur (Hindi for "city of gold"). Sonapur is the Earth to Dubai's Elysium. It is Sonapur's migrant labour that builds Dubai's gleaming skyscrapers, its unaffordably priced hotels with the taps of gold, its luxurious shopping malls, indoor ski slopes and ice rinks and other symbols of hedonistic excess. It is a world that Sonapur's worker class can see, but can never hope to touch. I confess that for a few years after my Dubai experience, I harboured a deep sense of resentment towards UK nationals, whom I viewed as undeservingly entitled and privileged. Having experienced class jealousy and a sense of injustice first hand, I can imagine what the developed world's underclass must feel.

Dubai - The Elysium of the Middle East

Sonapur - Dubai's migrant workers' quarter

My own story turned out quite well. The second masters degree that I referred to earlier was in preparation for migration to Australia, another fortress-like Elysium with a moat and drawbridge to keep out unwanted boat people. As a skilled migrant, I was welcomed into this rarefied world. Education was my ticket to Elysium, and although I had to undergo some sacrifice to attain it, it was within my reach. For the uneducated migrant workers of Dubai, Singapore and elsewhere, Elysium is hopelessly and permanently beyond reach.

What can be done? The official response to the latest riots is typically and laughably Singaporean - ban alcohol. In the nineties, faced with an epidemic of passive-aggressive citizen protest in the form of chewing gum stuck to the buttons of elevators and the door sensors on the MRT, the Singaporean government responded in the way it knew best. It banned chewing gum. There was no attempt to understand the social frustrations that lay beneath that layer of chewing gum, and I don't expect any such attempt now. There will be no ban on migrant labour itself, nor a raise in their wages. Such moves would threaten the financial foundations on which the prosperity of Elysium rests, so sheer economic rationalism would forestall such moves. However, the roots of riots like this are not alcohol but frustration. Asking people to work for a pittance to build a world of luxury in which they cannot share is a recipe for social unrest. We can ban alcohol, but we cannot ban frustration.

Viewing this as a purely law-and-order situation is also limiting. Yes, lawbreaking cannot be condoned, so arrests, prosecutions and convictions must occur. But while we may sip our lattes and debate whether we live in a melting pot or a salad bowl, the reality for many is that they live in a pressure cooker. Cracking down only tightens the lid on that pressure cooker. It doesn't reduce the pressure, and any long-term solution has to address that. The differences in our society are not so much charming diversity as stark disparity. It is a situation that demands urgent policy attention.

I'm not a socialist, and I don't advocate socialistic solutions. I know that we cannot legislate an artificial economic equality. But I am egalitarian, and I believe that all human beings have a right to be treated with equal dignity. For an egalitarian society to be even viable, the quality of human capital has to be raised to a certain minimum level across the world. Capitalism is our best hope, but it needs to evolve into a wiser system that sees human beings not as resources to be exploited but as productive free agents as well as well-off consumers, so it must aim to put more money and time into people's hands. This is not for altruistic reasons but out of enlightened self-interest. The returns for all are much higher when societies are uniformly well-off.

So this is not really Singapore's problem, or Dubai's, or the developed world's. It is a problem for the governments of poorer countries to solve, and urgently. If Indian nationals can expect higher living standards at home, the laws of capitalism will of course ensure that fewer of them will find employment in foreign countries, but those that do will be offered wages that are closer to what nationals of those countries receive, reducing disparity and consequent social unrest. India must grow at a minimum of 10% for the next 15 to 20 years to prevent these pressure cookers around the world from exploding. [India also has an additional problem of 30 million "extra males" resulting from years of gender selective reproduction, and the frustrations of a generation of unfulfilled Indian men will create problems both for the country and for the world, but that is a separate issue.]

If there is one man who can be indirectly blamed for Singapore's riots, it is India's economist prime minister Manmohan Singh. In the last five years of his current term, he has done nothing to unshackle the Indian economy and facilitate the growth rate that can save us all a world of pain. He is sure to exit office after the May 2014 elections. I fervently hope India's future leaders have what it takes to raise the country's living standards, or else, given the global importance of subcontinental labour, all the world's Elysiums could come crashing down.

Some Thoughts On Vote-Bank Politics And A Uniform Civil Code

A friend pointed me to a program on NDTV where the prominent Indian politician, Subramanian Swamy, made a couple of noteworthy points.

Subramanian Swamy - voice of reason, or dangerous demagogue?

His first point pertained to vote-bank politics. He said, very correctly, that Indian politics has always been dominated by vote-bank calculations along religious and caste lines. Politicians have always tried to appeal to narrow sectarian interests, such as Yadavs, Jats, Dalits and Muslims. I'm not very sure if he was right in claiming that Muslims (or indeed any other group) vote as a bloc, but I certainly don't agree with his corollary that he is doing nothing different by attempting to consolidate the Hindu vote by dissolving the caste boundaries that divide Hindus.

My reasoning is that multi-cornered electoral contests are less "dangerous" to a society than two-sided ones. Multi-cornered fights are necessarily more diffuse, and the shifting allegiances of coalition politics can prevent communal fault-lines from developing into permanent battle-lines. In contrast, two-sided contests, especially when they take on the flavour of a dominant majority versus a minority, can be quite poisonous, as the example of India's neighbour Sri Lanka should have amply made clear.

So Swamy's innocent claim that he is pursuing nothing different from what political parties have always done, is not something that can be accepted with equanimity. The consolidation of a Hindu vote, if it ever comes about, will be a dangerous development, and it will set India drifting in the direction of a civil war without end.

I believe a secular society must be stoutly defended, but by the state, not a community. In other words, the response to a sports team that plays too aggressively is not an equally aggressive opposing team, but a strong referee who enforces the rules and is not afraid to hand out red cards.

The second point he made was about the desirability of a Uniform Civil Code (UCC) for the country, as opposed to the current situation where Muslim citizens of India come under the jurisdiction of Muslim Personal Law (a subset of Shariah law dealing with civil cases like property disputes and alimony, and thankfully not the beheading, stoning, flogging and amputation variety.)

Swamy has a very strong case (as evidenced by the show of hands he was able to elicit in the studio), but in my opinion, the argument in favour of the UCC has never been framed correctly.

Rajiv Gandhi's government erred by introducing Muslim Personal Law for Muslims in the Shah Bano case. In effect, the government threw Muslim women under the bus, starting with Shah Bano herself. A civil court would have granted her alimony, but when her case was deemed to come under the purview of Muslim Personal Law, she got nothing. Clearly, a Uniform Civil Code would be better for Muslim women, since Muslim Personal Law is relatively misogynistic, but would Muslim women vote for it? I doubt it. That's because the whole UCC question has been needlessly turned into one of personal identity, and projected as proof that the Hindu majority is attempting to take away the identity of Indian Muslims by denying them their own system of laws.

The way I believe the UCC should be approached is by positioning Muslim Personal Law as a form of arbitration. All civil cases should be heard by a regular court that applies uniform laws for all citizens, but if the two parties to a case are both Muslim, and both agree to have their case heard by a Muslim court instead, then the case may be referred to the Muslim Law Board as a legally recognised arbitrator. In other words, the two parties agree to settle their case out of court using a community-recognised arbitrator. If either party refuses, the case remains in the civil court. Thus, the UCC does not replace Muslim Personal Law, but merely treats it as an alternative mechanism to resolve disputes if both parties agree.

[Once both parties agree to have their case heard by the Muslim Law Board, they must also agree in advance that its verdict will be binding on them. Neither of them may return to the civil court in case of an unfavourable verdict by the MLB, since such a recourse will just encourage "verdict shopping".]

I believe this is the way the UCC debate should be framed. Muslim Personal Law should still be an available option for two willing parties. After all, even in a civil court, two parties have the right to have their case settled out of court or through the use of an arbitrator. MPL just needs to stop being an alternate universe for Muslim citizens. Provided this legal model is argued and sold intelligently, it is possible that many Muslims will also support it. The perceived assault on minority identity can be avoided while also bringing sanity to the justice system.

I, Me and Movies

In recent times, I have engaged in robust debates with friends on the merits and demerits of movies that I reviewed on my blog, and I have now realised a few things:

- There are no permanent allies or permanent foes where movie tastes are concerned

- It takes all kinds, and there's no accounting for taste

- It's not just other people who are exasperatingly unpredictable in their tastes; I'm myself high-brow in some situations and quite low-brow in others

There are those critics among my friends who resemble The Real Princess of Hans Christian Andersen's fable, because the tiniest flaw in a movie, like a pea beneath the bottommost mattress, can ruin the entire experience for them. Fortunately for me, I think I must come from stolid peasant stock, because those imperfections have to be pretty major to begin to affect my enjoyment. (At times, when these friends rip apart movies that I enjoy, I start to feel like a tasteless boor with very low standards. But then again, I have strong likes and dislikes of my own, so I guess I'm not entirely undiscriminating.) 

There are other friends who have for some unfathomable reason decided that I am a "sophisticated" critic who must have very highly evolved tastes, and who therefore expect me to like only award-winning, "art" movies. In truth, to quote an old friend of mine, I generally find such movies to be "avoid-winning" and I never watch them if I can help it. [I take heart from a report about that intellectual giant Raghuram Rajan, currently the governor of the Reserve Bank of India (and formerly my classmate), who says he enjoys physical sports but not chess!]

I view movies as entertainment, pure and simple. They represent an escapist paradise from the tedium, if not the stress, of everyday day. I'm not a "serious" movie-goer or connoisseur of any sort. Yet I myself find my exact taste in movies very hard to pin down.

Looking over the list of movies I like and don't like, I can begin to understand my criteria.

I tend to like "low stress" movies, humour (clean as well as naughty, but not gross), light romance, catchy music, some action, moderate suspense, glamourised violence, interesting villains (if they must exist at all), science fiction and superheroes.

An interesting premise, a reasonably well-told story and at least the main characters fairly well defined, help a lot. I'm a lot more forgiving than The Real Princess if these aren't quite stellar.

I tend not to like horror, gross-out humour, high emotion/melodrama, high-tension suspense, realistic violence, tales of suffering, struggle and sacrifice, tragic romance, tragedy in general, depictions of poverty, gritty crime, and threats to the well-being of vulnerable women, children and animals. (Does that cover everything?)

You see, I'm trying to escape from the mild unpleasantnesses of the real world for a couple of hours. Do I really need to inflict myself with intense unpleasantness, however vicarious?

A related piece of criticism that I hear about movies that I like is that they are "not realistic". On the contrary, I believe that is the very reason for my enjoyment! If I craved realism that much, I could just open the pages of the daily news or walk down the street and talk to real people. I certainly don't want to buy a ticket to the cinema and find I've paid for the same reality on the screen! Among Indians of my generation, such movies find their zenith (nadir?) in Adoor Gopalakrishnan's much-awarded execration, Elippathayam, in which a character could spend ten minutes examining his face in the mirror, and the audience gets to share every one of those excruciating ten minutes with him. So much for realism in the movies. My arthouse connoisseur friends can have it all.

Then there are some actors I dislike, so I can never warm to their movies. And if I sense movie-makers are pushing political or social messages that I disagree with, there goes their movie in my eyes (Hello, Jon Favreau of Iron Man, the biggest issue with the war in Afghanistan is not that American weapons are being used against American soldiers, although the ever-patriotic home audience would certainly like to be told so! Hello, Karan Johar of that otherwise beautiful movie KANK, there's no such thing as one single "soul mate" out there whom you must marry on pain of living a loveless life!) I've never gone back to see the Iron Man sequels 2 and 3, and Johar remains, yet unforgiven, in the penalty corner of my mind.

I like a fair bit of fantasy and larger-than-life characters and situations. I like mock-scary movies rather than really scary ones, the ones that give you thrills with comfort, like when a child watches a scary movie sitting on the lap of a reassuring adult. An extra scoop of thrills, and hold the realism! In the context of Bollywood, I like seeing beautiful people performing impossible stunts, singing catchy songs and making awful jokes.

I'm always game for a light "chick flick" in which the worst possible tragedy is a couple splitting up, not the tissue-box variety like Steel Magnolias in which people suffer and die. I like all the movies based on Jane Austen's novels.

And did I mention that I like science-fiction and superhero movies?

However, in spite of the detailed list of my likes and dislikes above, I've often found myself liking or disliking movies that broke these rules.

For example, though I dislike realistic violence and gore, I have been quite happy watching movies about groups of grown men whom I care nothing about taking up arms and slaughtering each other to the accompaniment of stunts and explosions. A whole series of war movies in my collection bears testimony to this. I guess not having any feeling of attachment or identification with the characters makes them expendable in my eyes. Their sufferings aren't real enough for me to empathise with.

I also enjoyed Under Siege, Broken Arrow and Die Hard (especially Die Hard 2). Again, since I had developed no emotional connection with any of the characters, I didn't mind what happened to them, and the most suspenseful situations didn't affect me personally.

In that context, although I abhor scenes of suffering, blood and gore, I confess I love it when villains die shockingly horrible deaths. The treacherous Major Grant being sucked into a jet engine in Die Hard 2 remains one of my favourite villain deaths. In the Bollywood spy thriller Agent Vinod, the villainy of the chillingly unstoppable "colonel" is finally ended by a helicopter's tail rotor. A simple bullet will never do! If I have to put up with scenes of realistic violence and convincing portrayals of innocent people suffering because of a particularly nasty villain, I insist that that villain meet a suitably horrific fate before the movie ends. The Bollywood movie Dabangg, which I sat through with great difficulty, did satisfy me at the end. The villain, who (among other cruelties) caused the hero's asthmatic mother to suffocate to death by denying her her inhaler, gets a tractor's exhaust pipe stuffed into his mouth by the hero, while his brother presses the accelerator. That's a more cheering ending for me than a happy couple getting married. Real-world villains get away with their crimes depressingly often, so I savour every instance of retribution I can find, whether real or imaginary.

Some realistic yet violent movies are still interesting. Bollywood's Madras Café was fascinating to me because I have closely followed the Sri Lankan civil war for as long as it has raged (about thirty years).

The interplay of science fiction (which I like) and horror/heavy suspense (which I dislike), produces interesting and unpredictable results. I disliked Alien, but I didn't mind either Predator or Alien vs Predator. I guess the difference was that Alien had a vulnerable female protagonist whose safety affected me personally, whereas Predator had a commando who could presumably take care of himself, and AVP distanced the characters from me, emotionally speaking.

Also within the Science Fiction/thriller genre, I liked Terminator 2 and the entire Jurassic Park series (where I knew from the start that nothing would happen to the main characters), as well as some putatively B grade movies like Dark Waters (where I didn't care).

I disliked Jaws because of the suspense, the loud, scary music, and the photography that made me feel I was myself in the water and in imminent danger. Yet sharks in general hold a fascination for me, so I quite liked the science fiction thriller Deep Blue Sea, with its mako sharks genetically engineered to be "bigger, faster, smarter and meaner". It also helped that I was watching it at home with the volume turned down. (I'm sure Sharknado is an awful movie, but the premise is so outlandishly fascinating I don't think I can keep from watching it!)

Like Sharknado (which I haven't yet seen) and Snakes on a Plane (which I have), there are some movies I cannot resist watching because of their intriguing basic premise, even though I know in advance that they will be awful. Cowboys and Aliens just had to be seen. Likewise, Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter.

On the other hand, there are some critically acclaimed movies I can't handle. The Godfather was very disturbing, especially in its signature scenes like the man waking up in bed with his favourite horse's head beside him, and the man being garotted to death in a car and breaking the windshield in his death throes. Mad Max still gives me nightmares, with that very disturbing disembodied hand holding a chain, and the woman and child run over. The English Patient featured breathtaking photography, but I wouldn't wish the protagonist's tragedy on my worst enemy. I wouldn't even wish them to sit through the movie. To this day, The English Patient remains my metaphor for a work of beauty that is an absolute horror.

Needless to say, I would not watch Schindler's List unless a Luger were held to my head.

There are movies that I would not willingly watch (because they're tear-jerkers or too gritty) but which I don't regret watching if I accidentally do watch them. District 9 and In Bruges were movies I watched on a flight out of sheer boredom, and found that I could appreciate them ("Like" would be too strong a word). Lots of Bollywood movies also fall into this category, too numerous to mention by name.

[Speaking of Bollywood, the average level of quality has risen perceptibly in recent years, and I find myself enjoying more of them every year. The highlights of 2013 so far have been Chashme Buddoor, Madras Café and Krrish 3, and barring a major disappointment, will almost certainly include the much-awaited Dhoom 3 in December.]

At the deepest level of self-analysis, therefore, I guess I like movies that engage me but not involve me emotionally (i.e., give me stress, move me to tears or gross me out). In other words, I'm equal parts thrill-seeker and coward.

Plagiarism Or Inspiration? The Curious Case Of Star Wars And Flash Gordon

A common refrain I heard from many people about the Bollywood superhero movie Krrish 3 (which I reviewed here) was about how much of it was plagiarised from Hollywood movies. I could see the specific elements that were borrowed, but I still liked the movie very much. (Personally, I don't mind if a person builds an original Lego sculpture with borrowed Lego blocks. I only draw the line at sculptures borrowed in their entirety.)

Anyway, all those charges of plagiarism reminded me of a similar case I thought I knew of.

For many years now, I have believed that George Lucas stole some of his ideas for Star Wars from Flash Gordon. After all, Flash Gordon dates back to the '50s, while Star Wars was only released in 1977, right?

I'm not so sure now. The tidbits I'm about to share with you are from one particular Flash Gordon comic book called "The Space Invaders", the Indian edition of which you can read online by following the link. On closer examination today, it looks like this issue only appeared in print in 1982, which means the inspiration must have worked in the other direction. I seem to have done George Lucas a grave injustice in my mind for 30 years!

To save you the trouble of reading the entire comic, let me post certain extracts for you.

1. Do you remember the scene where Darth Vader punishes one of his fleet's captains for letting the rebel ship escape?

"Apology accepted, Captain Needa"

Take a look at the relevant section from "The Space Invaders":

Baron Dak Tula of the Skorpi has the very same telekinetic power to kill, and uses it in similar situations

On page 13, Dak Tula refers to Flash Gordon as "the one great knight" who faced him and lived. Was that inspired by the term "Jedi Knight"?

2. How about that telepathic conversation between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker?

From 9:25 to 9:30 - "Luke"..."Father"..."Son"

The Baron and Flash Gordon can communicate mentally too.
What are these "powers" that Flash has acquired since they last met? And the Baron represents the "dark powers", rather like "the dark side of the Force"

3. Darth Vader escapes the destruction of the Death Star

From 3:10 to 3:20 - Darth Vader's ship is hit and spins out of control, but he escapes the explosion of the Death Star

A minor difference - Baron Dak Tula's ship is not just hit, but destroyed, and he teleports himself to safety

It's fascinating how ideas from works in Science Fiction and Fantasy feed off each other, but I guess we shouldn't be too surprised. The book "The Seven Basic Plots" makes the point that there are very few original ideas for storylines to start with. That's why so many stories and movies leave us with a sense of déjà vu.

Mars Versus Malnutrition - The False Debate Resumes

It's been my cynical observation that nothing causes an outpouring of concern for India's poor and starving millions like a space mission (or in an earlier age, a nuclear test). [And by the way, this isn't strictly a guns-versus-butter argument, because external critics of India's defence spending are largely silent when their countries' arms industries are the beneficiaries.]

The Mars Orbiter Mission (MOM), popularly known as Mangalyaan (Sanskrit/Hindi for Mars craft), was appropriately launched on a Wednesday (which is Mangalvaar, or "Mars-day", in the Indian calendar). 

Whether MOM launched a space probe or not, it certainly launched a barrage of criticism from various quarters, both Indian and foreign. The refrain was familiar. A country with so many poor people/people without toilets/starving children (take your pick) shouldn't be wasting money on space.

It's a different matter that the cessation of funding for space research isn't going to end poverty, and in fact, might cause it to drag on longer. The argument in favour of space research has been very effectively made by Dr Ernst Stuhlinger in his letter to a nun.

In fact, the "poor people" argument is ironically the most potent in favour of India's space program. The 1999 cyclone that hit India, like typhoon Haiyan that hit the Philippines this week, killed 10,000 people. But the cyclone Phailin, which hit India last month, only claimed 10 lives. The difference between 1999 and 2013 was that three Indian satellites - INSAT-3A, INSAT-3D and KALPANA - provided early warning and real-time monitoring of the storm, enabling the evacuation of over a million people out of harm's way. All three satellites were developed and launched indigenously, at a cost far below comparable services that could have been purchased from abroad. Critics should talk to the "poor people" who were saved about the benefit of the Indian space program.

In the 1960s, about 10-15% of the US population was considered "poor". Should the US have abandoned its man-on-the-moon mission until there were no more poor? Should the US even now refrain from spending money on probes like the Mars rover Curiosity until the American people enjoy universal health care?

Some of the posturing is so transparent, the insecurities of the author/editors shine through. India Mars Mission to Launch Amidst Overwhelming Poverty, reads the Las Vegas Guardian's shrill headline.

Indian critics are not to be left behind. Social activist Harsh Mander thought the Mars mission showed "a remarkable indifference to the dignity of the poor".

Some Indians were more specific in their criticism of this particular mission rather than with the idea of India's space efforts in general. One blogger believes the mission is a waste of resources because it will bring back no new data of value.

Even critics like him miss the point entirely.

To be blunt, the objective of the Mars Orbiter Mission is not to study Mars or to bring back useful data about the red planet! It has had several other objectives. Even if the orbiter dies after a single orbit of Mars, it would have achieved the following:

Prestige: It is undeniable that people around the world are now looking at India with new-found respect. If India succeeds where China and Japan have failed, it will be a significant achievement in the eyes of the world. The stage-wise approach of raising the craft's orbit in increments before breaking free of the earth's gravity, is an example of the Indian ability to improvise ("jugaad") in the face of constraints (namely the lack of a more powerful rocket like the GSLV).

The bulk of the complex mission still lies ahead, but on paper at least, the plan seems simultaneously ingenious and workable

Inspiration: Countless numbers of young Indians have been energised by the mission. The glamour of being a space scientist is already inspiring large numbers of students to opt for the hard sciences - the study of Mathematics, Physics and Aerospace Engineering. Engineering enrolments are likely to see a boost in the years to come.

Cyberspace - another frontier conquered by ISRO

For a government-owned entity, ISRO has surprised watchers not only with its frugality but also with its transparency. Every stage of the mission's progress was reported on social media, and an eager band of followers (over 200,000 strong) hung on to every word, staying up till the wee hours and posting encouraging messages.

Marketing: India has subtly advertised to the world that (1) its commercial launch capabilities are extremely economical, (2) its workhorse rocket, the PSLV, is highly reliable, and (3) its mission control specialists are skilled, experienced and capable of tackling problems that arise during a mission. A lot more business should flow ISRO's way in the months ahead.

Skills and Employment: As a wag put it, India's investment of $75 million on this mission has not been stuffed in the form of banknotes into the rocket and sent off into space. It has been spent in India, providing employment and experience to thousands of professionals, including those in ancillary industries such as Walchandnagar Industries Limited, which precision-manufactured the parts of the rocket and orbiter. It's an investment that will provide continuing returns.

In short, I think critics should shut up and get with the (space) program.

Update 16/11/2013: A very clear explanation of what MOM will and will not achieve can be heard in this 10-minute clip of an interview with D Raghunandan of the Delhi Science Forum.

Update 24/09/2014: MOM has reached Mars and entered orbit around the planet after almost 10 months in space.

Sterling Values Sold For Thirty Pieces

The news of Mahatma Gandhi's spinning wheel (charkha) being sold for 110,000 pounds at a Shropshire auction should not shock us. It is a sign of the times we live in. We are capable of putting a price tag on simplicity itself if it appeals to people, because clearly, there's a market for it.

The author of a literally homespun revolution is now a hot collector's item

It reminds me of that other anti-capitalist icon who has become the ultimate chic consumerist commodity - Che Guevara. He has done so much for capitalists since he died, since his face adorns millions of t-shirts sold around the world.

A most revolutionary idea in fashion

When Open Source software began to be known to the average IT person around the year 2000, many people were puzzled by the phenomenon. "How can anyone make money from it?" was the question. I wrote two articles ("Open Source-onomics" and "The Capitalist View of Open Source") to address these misconceptions.

There was a time when a movie's popularity used to be measured by how many weeks it ran in the theatres. No longer. Today, the measurement of popularity is money. In recent personal experience, I was saddened to see that most on-line news and reader commentary about a movie I liked (Krrish 3) was about how much money it had been able to gross (and how quickly) rather than how good it was.

As a society, we seem to be at that classic stage where we know "the price of everything and the value of nothing".