'Madagascar' may seem to be a harmless children's movie about Alex, the lion – the star of New York's Central Park Zoo, and his friends Marty – the zebra, Melman – the giraffe and Gloria – the hippopotamus, who escape the captivity of the zoo to explore "the wild". On their journey, they cross paths with King Julien, a ring-tailed lemur, the self-proclaimed King of the Kingdom...
'Madagascar' may seem to be a harmless children's movie about Alex, the lion – the star of New York's Central Park Zoo, and his friends Marty – the zebra, Melman – the giraffe and Gloria – the hippopotamus, who escape the captivity of the zoo to explore "the wild". On their journey, they cross paths with King Julien, a ring-tailed lemur, the self-proclaimed King of the Kingdom of Madagascar, famously known for his enviable dance to the comical song "I like to move it, move it". King Julien, ably voiced by actor Sacha Baron Cohen, is your quintessential leader – portraying himself as the ultimate protector of his subjects, while conveniently pushing the weakest member of his royal circle as the sacrificial lamb in dire times.
When one reads in between the lines of the dynamics of the relationship between King Julien and his subjects, one can't help but notice the language adopted by him in his speeches, which stirs a whirlwind of emotions in his followers, and causes them to follow his command to the 'T' with rationality exiting the room. King Julien has the ability to shut off anyone who criticises his views, or his decisions. When one questions the reasons behind his policy choices, he bends the rules to erase such interjections. For instance, when one of his closest allies and second-in-command, Maurice, warns him about his decision to befriend the lion, King Julien says, "Maurice, you did not raise your hand. Therefore, your heinous comment will be stricken from the record." To ensure that his subjects remain under his absolute control, King Julien creates fear, where there is none. He convinces his followers of the existence of an enemy, against whom only he could protect them. The world today has many "King Juliens" – leaders who use language or words which cause masses to go bananas (pardon the usage of animal puns).
In 2020, when the globe was faced with the COVID-19 pandemic, we witnessed many political leaders emerge as King Julien. They adopted language, or used certain phrases to block out questions or reasonable dialogue about their policy decisions. Donald Trump, the former President of the United States of America declared himself to be a "war time president" and drew parallels between the pandemic and World War II. He said that the USA was fighting a war against an "invisible enemy". Andrew Cuomo, the Governor of New York drew an analogy to say that ventilators are to this war what bombs were to World War II. Similarly, Emmanuel Macron, the President of France, warned the French population that they were "at war". In March 2020, Narendra Modi, the Prime Minister of India, while declaring the first 21-day lockdown in the country, adopted a rhetoric from the mythical past, and equated the fight against COVID to the 18-day battle from the Hindu epic Mahabharata. He declared India to be "at war" with the virus for 21 days.
The knee-jerk reaction of the public to political leaders directing them to brace for a "war" against an "invisible enemy" was immediate panic and hoarding of essential supplies. Like dedicated soldiers, we fell in line – not questioning the rationale behind the decisions of our leaders, who successfully harnessed the emotion of nostalgia. We banged our thaalis and lighted diyas to uplift our spirits, as we faced the common "enemy." We felt that we owed a responsibility towards our country, and were willing to sacrifice our conveniences for the greater good.
One year later, when healthcare workers and scientists had worked their backsides off, and the vaccine emerged as a ray of hope, global political leaders continued to address the public with "war-like" metaphors. For the second time, all over again, like combative soldiers, our spines stood erect, as our leaders whipped us in line. In May 2021, when India was gasping for breath during the second wave of COVID, the Prime Minister, while reminding the public of its fight against the virus said, "हमारी लड़ाई एक अदृष्य और रूप बदलने वाले, एक धूर्त किसम के दुश्मन के खिलाफ हैं" ["Our war is against an invisible and ever-changing rogue enemy"].
Why the "war-like" metaphors are problematic?
The adoption of "war-like" metaphors by heads of State are problematic to say the least. The sequitur is to blindly follow the commands from higher up the chain, and accept the state of affairs as they are, without questioning the authority of the Government. When holders of political high offices adopt such metaphors, they gain unconditional power over the lives of the general public, even if it is at the cost of personal liberty. A leader hungry for power may utilize the situation as an open sanction to curtail civil liberties. It also gives a hall pass to a leader to grab more power than bestowed upon them by the people.
In addition, the depiction of a "war-like" situation shields the government from all its shortcomings, not only in the context of the existing crisis, but also in other spheres of responsibility. For instance, when the economic policies of the Government are not best suited for a particular country, the reason for failure of such policies is attributed to the "war-like" situation, and not to the lack of able leadership. In such situations, those who question the decisions of the heads of State are often seen as "anti-nationals". With one-liners akin to war-cries, public emotion is stirred, any disagreement with existing policies is dissuaded, and the spirit of democracy is buried.
The general public being equal stakeholders in the democratic system of society must be treated as such. Governments must not look at events, such as the pandemic, to gain unconditional and unquestionable power over the lives of its people. Salil Shetty, the former Secretary General of Amnesty International and Director of the United Nations Millennium Campaign, while discussing the relationship between human rights and good governance said, "human rights, to me, effectively brings in a citizen-state contract, and puts states where they should be, which is as a servant of the people."
The citizens must remind themselves that the power lies with them, and must keep an eye out for usage of such metaphors which, on the pretext of instilling fraternity, perhaps dilute the pain experienced by the masses. The responsibility to hold the government accountable rests on the shoulders of the citizens, failing which we may face a situation where our leaders believe what King Julien's closest aide Maurice said, "I'm sure this whole democracy thing is just a fad."
Views are Personal
The authors are practising Advocates in the Supreme Court of India.