Arnab Goswami saga: Republic of collective decadence

A Symptom Called Arnab Goswami

It is difficult to comment on the validity of the case that led the Maharashtra government to arrest Arnab Goswami, the controversial media anchor known for his noisy engagement with the fate of the ‘republic’. Yet, the fact remains that this dramatic event has aroused mixed emotions and made us rethink issues relating to the ethos of journalism, the increasing politicisation of media houses and freedom of the press.

To begin with, it is important to realise that we are living in a time characterised by stimulant nationalism and rising narcissism; and the ruling regime cannot be said to be very open to the culture of engaged debate, responsible journalism and critical voices. In recent times, we have witnessed how civil rights activists, academic intellectuals and journalists with a critical voice have often been humiliated, castigated, stigmatised as ‘anti-national’, and even arrested. Hence, when the likes of Smriti Irani or Amit Shah express their anguish over the arrest of Goswami, shed tears for democracy, recall the horror of Emergency, and speak of the freedom of the press, everything looks absurd.

Is the message, “I support your freedom only when you praise my every act, and silence or condemn those who critique me?” At the same time, it would be too naïve to believe that the Shiv Sena, or, for that matter, the Maharashtra government is truly committed to the ideal of justice.

Think of a phenomenon called Arnab Goswami. Any careful observer of what he does on the screen is likely to find that in the name of the ‘republic’, the messages of stimulant nationalism are disseminated. Dialogue, for him, seems to be a bad word. His noisy monologue always finds the ‘enemies‘ of the nation: from Kashmiri militants to JNU tukde tukde gang, and from the ‘anti-national’ public intellectuals to all those who dare to critique the policies of the Narendra Modi government.

In a way, he symbolises the mood of the times: the way the discourse of hyper-masculine militant nationalism leads to the militarisation of the consciousness. In other words, it is narcissism—the death of self-reflection, critical thinking and the art of conversation. Possibly, his ‘success’ lies in the fact that for many other television channels and their ‘star’ anchors, he became the role model to emulate. Hence, he fits well into a media culture that is aggressively ‘nationalist’ and inherently violent.

Yes, Arnab Goswami is a symptom of the disease that has afflicted the contemporary media culture. This disease can be seen as the manipulated public sphere. In an ideal and democratic public sphere, there is a possibility of dialogue and reflexivity, and politico-intellectual freedom and critical consciousness. And this sphere of ‘communicative action’, it is said, strengthens democracy. The tragedy is that despite multiple media houses and television channels, we are witnessing this decline in the culture of dialogic communication.

There are primarily two reasons for this decline. First, when there is an alliance between the neoliberal market and some sort of a totalitarian state, the public sphere is likely to be invaded by the instrumental logic of the system. And hence, quite often—if we reflect on ‘panel discussions’ on our television channels—we experience the absence of critical consciousness and the art of conversation. It would not be entirely wrong to say that barring some remarkable exceptions, what is projected as news is boxing, dialogue is replaced by noise and screaming, sensationalism is promoted, and the oppressive binaries are reproduced: Hindu vs Muslim, ‘deshbhakts’ vs ‘conspirators’. The status quo is maintained.

And second, there is something inherent in the logic of the visual medium. An illustration would make it clear. As a young college student in the mid-1970s, I grew up reading the columns of some of our finest journalists and editors—say, Nikhil Chakravarty, Shyam Lal, Kuldeep Nayyar, Arun Shourie. I never saw them on billboards in our cities; nor was I aware of their look, glamour and style. Yet, there was an intense and silent communion with them. However, in the age of instantaneous consumption, filled with 24/7 television news channels, I began to see the birth of ‘stars’ or ‘celebrity’ journalists. And each of them became a ‘brand’ or a ‘product’ that, as many of these politically motivated corporate media houses think, ought to be sold. I have no hesitation in saying that with the birth of ‘stars’, serious journalism began to suffer. I see its degeneration into some sort of dramaturgical performance. Hence, every night at 9 pm on our television channels—particularly the channels that bother about the fate of the ‘republic’ in these ‘times’—we witness a drama, a thriller, a ‘reality show’. Critical thinking, art of listening, honest ground reporting -- none of those matter; the ‘brand’ or the ‘star’ takes us for granted.

But then, the fact is that we have begun to love these channels. We need not forget that Arnab Goswami speaks English; and the urban/metropolitan/affluent class consumes him every night. And they are ‘educated’. This is frightening. Does it then mean that, despite our formal education and social capital, we have lost our critical faculty and finer sensibilities, and allowed ourselves to be hypnotised by this glitz, drama and noise? Is it that we, too, have become mere consumers of spectacles and dramaturgical performances? Or, is it that in this media-induced age of instantaneity and superficiality, anything that demands critical reflection and serious enquiry looks ‘boring’, and the only thing that excites us is, to take an illustration, a glossy story of Rhea Chakraborty, or, for that matter, an imagery of the surgical strike celebrated through an over-dramatic/nationalist gesture?

Is it the time to see beyond Arnab Goswami, and look at ourselves?

(The writer is a Professor of Sociology at JNU)