India's Pandora’s Box is now being opened

Foreign Direct Investment will help some of India, but won't correct growing inequalities.

Last Friday, the Indian government announced big bang reforms signalling that the Indian economy is now wide open for business. The landmark decision includes allowing 49 per cent foreign direct investment (FDI) in aviation, raising the FDI cap in the media industry to 74 per cent and most pertinently allowing 51 per cent FDI in the sector of multi-brand retail. This means the Tescos and Walmarts of the world can now set up shop in India.

In the lead up to the high octane announcements the ruling party at the centre - the Congress - that leads a coalition government which rather tellingly goes by the moniker of UPA 2 (United Progressive Alliance; "2" to indicate its second term) was reeling under the vertiginous impact of "Coalgate" – a scam unearthed by the national auditor, the CAG (the Comptroller and Auditor General). Suggestive of crony capitalism, the government "gifted" coal mining permits to private players fleecing the national ex-chequer to the tune of £33bn. The new wave of economic liberalisation policies is a laudable attempt to take the spotlight off the scam. The policies are also a damage limitation attempt by a floundering government to counter allegations of inertia in national and foreign publications. The unflattering foreign reviews unsurprisingly hurt most.

The new measures were explained by India’s Commerce and Industry Minister, Anand Sharma, in an "exclusive" on India’s premier news channel, NDTV. He said the reforms, in particular, those in multi brand retailing were what India needed. Let’s set the record straight here. Which India was the minister referring to? If we look at India’s 1.2 billion population as a pyramid, at the apex sit 1.2 million affluent households. They tend to live in India’s top eight cities. Approximately 300 million people are middle class. It is the base of the pyramid that comprises the biggest section in terms of the number of people – at least 700 million people consisting of 114 million families. This is nearly 60 per cent of the country’s population. They include "struggling India" and "destitute India"; those for whom making needs meet is a daily battle and those who are below the poverty line. Surely, the minister was not referring to this chunk of the Indian "market"? They simply do not have the purchasing power for a Carrefour or a Walmart. Their everyday grind absorbs them, survival overwhelms them. Conspicuous consumption does not feature on their agenda of preoccupations. Neither will the big retailers be counting them in. It is a mutual disaffection.

A strong argument in favour of FDI in mammoth retail is that it will generate employment. Surely, it will. But we can’t let the question lie there. We must ask, for whom? Will it source employees from the unskilled, illiterate vegetable vendors who, akin to a capillary network, are spread across the length and breadth of the country? Operating at the point of delivery to the grocery shopper, they are the lifeblood of India’s unorganised grocery sector. Succinctly asked – will the giant retailers employ from the displaced workforce? If the big chains simply usurp their livelihoods what will become of their families entirely dependent on their incomes? Or are they simply not part of this narrative? In which case let’s be clear – in the way FDI is being sold it isn’t for the appeal of the Indian imagination but of a sliver of the Indian imagination.

Since the first wave of economic deregulation reforms in 1991 (ironically passed by the incumbent Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh when he was finance minister) select segments of India have unequivocally prospered. Even a cursory look at the 2G spectrum scam and "Coalgate" make clear the benefits accrued to the political brass and to the corporate sector. The famous Indian middle class has also expanded. And on a recent visit to South Kolkata, in the vicinity of an upmarket supermarket, the prosperity of urban sprawl was also plain to see. An open garbage dump heaved and street urchins ran around it. A friend plaintively remarked "garbage dumps are flourishing too". The brush of 1991 painted some of India gold, the other parts left to fester into elision.

Will the brush of the 2012 reforms paint India differently? In the "spillover" effect of the big foreign companies operating in India, there will be benefits to be had. The promises of improved supply chain infrastructure and the elimination of middlemen (how the middlemen will be redeployed is another matter) have been reiterated over and over. The headlines of the "in-favour" rhetoric relay thus - more FDI will drive consumption, manufacturing, economic growth and GDP. But for the holistic temperature of the development of a nation the Gini Coefficient and the Human Development Index are more apposite thermometers – and on both counts, unlike the growth index, India’s score is not reassuring. Also, if we put to the test the theory of how gigantic foreign retailers will encourage Indian manufacturing by citing the example of the "Walmart effect" on American manufacturing – then the prognosis is slim. The bottomline is this: it will certainly help "some" of India, but it is definitely not the panacea to India’s most pressing woes.

 

Members of The Indian National Association of Street Vendors shout anti-government slogans during a protest against Foreign Direct Investment. Photograph: Getty Images
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Let's face it: supporting Spurs is basically a form of charity

Now, for my biggest donation yet . . .

I gazed in awe at the new stadium, the future home of Spurs, wondering where my treasures will go. It is going to be one of the architectural wonders of the modern world (football stadia division), yet at the same time it seems ancient, archaic, a Roman ruin, very much like an amphitheatre I once saw in Croatia. It’s at the stage in a new construction when you can see all the bones and none of the flesh, with huge tiers soaring up into the sky. You can’t tell if it’s going or coming, a past perfect ruin or a perfect future model.

It has been so annoying at White Hart Lane this past year or so, having to walk round walkways and under awnings and dodge fences and hoardings, losing all sense of direction. Millions of pounds were being poured into what appeared to be a hole in the ground. The new stadium will replace part of one end of the present one, which was built in 1898. It has been hard not to be unaware of what’s going on, continually asking ourselves, as we take our seats: did the earth move for you?

Now, at long last, you can see what will be there, when it emerges from the scaffolding in another year. Awesome, of course. And, har, har, it will hold more people than Arsenal’s new home by 1,000 (61,000, as opposed to the puny Emirates, with only 60,000). At each home game, I am thinking about the future, wondering how my treasures will fare: will they be happy there?

No, I don’t mean Harry Kane, Danny Rose and Kyle Walker – local as well as national treasures. Not many Prem teams these days can boast quite as many English persons in their ranks. I mean my treasures, stuff wot I have been collecting these past 50 years.

About ten years ago, I went to a shareholders’ meeting at White Hart Lane when the embryonic plans for the new stadium were being announced. I stood up when questions were called for and asked the chairman, Daniel Levy, about having a museum in the new stadium. I told him that Man United had made £1m the previous year from their museum. Surely Spurs should make room for one in the brave new mega-stadium – to show off our long and proud history, delight the fans and all those interested in football history and make a few bob.

He mumbled something – fluent enough, as he did go to Cambridge – but gave nothing away, like the PM caught at Prime Minister’s Questions with an unexpected question.

But now it is going to happen. The people who are designing the museum are coming from Manchester to look at my treasures. They asked for a list but I said, “No chance.” I must have 2,000 items of Spurs memorabilia. I could be dead by the time I finish listing them. They’ll have to see them, in the flesh, and then they’ll be free to take away whatever they might consider worth having in the new museum.

I’m awfully kind that way, partly because I have always looked on supporting Spurs as a form of charity. You don’t expect any reward. Nor could you expect a great deal of pleasure, these past few decades, and certainly not the other day at Liverpool when they were shite. But you do want to help them, poor things.

I have been downsizing since my wife died, and since we sold our Loweswater house, and I’m now clearing out some of my treasures. I’ve donated a very rare Wordsworth book to Dove Cottage, five letters from Beatrix Potter to the Armitt Library in Ambleside, and handwritten Beatles lyrics to the British Library. If Beckham and I don’t get a knighthood in the next honours list, I will be spitting.

My Spurs stuff includes programmes going back to 1910, plus recent stuff like the Opus book, that monster publication, about the size of a black cab. Limited editions cost £8,000 a copy in 2007. I got mine free, as I did the introduction and loaned them photographs. I will be glad to get rid of it. It’s blocking the light in my room.

Perhaps, depending on what they want, and they might take nothing, I will ask for a small pourboire in return. Two free tickets in the new stadium. For life. Or longer . . . 

Hunter Davies is a journalist, broadcaster and profilic author perhaps best known for writing about the Beatles. He is an ardent Tottenham fan and writes a regular column on football for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times