Will Modi's black money-mukt Bharat make Indians poorer?

I am just back from the bank. It cost me a whole day to get Rs 4,000 of my own hard-earned money. Yes, I got the new Rs 2,000 note! But I was disappointed. Somehow, it felt cheaper than the Rs 1,000 note it displaced. I am worried it could prove to be the case.

I was one of the earliest to hail the demonetisation move. My words are still on my FB page. Usually, I don't react so precipitously. In this instance I did because of my excitement that the cleaning up of our economy could bring relief to the poor of this country and, may be, improve the quality of life for all citizens.

We are familiar with the reigning fiscal dogma: bad money will drive good money out of the system. Between the two, it is always an unequal battle. Bad coins will prevail.

Are we seeing the dawn of a new era, then? Is the good coin about to pull off, with the help of Modi, the final coup?

Are we watching the emergence of black money-mukt Bharat, like we were promised a Congress-mukt Bharat?

My optimism suffered a serious jolt at the hands of BJP's very own ally, Shiv Sena. Uddhav smells a rat about the Rs 2,000 denomination. He suspects that this could make it twice as convenient to hoard black money. I am not a party to Uddhav's line of thinking. But I won't be surprised if he does not have his own ounce of wisdom in this prognostication.

Uddhav made me think of Count Leo Tolstoy, especially his controversial prose work, What Shall We Do?

Tolstoy's central argument in the book is that money is, by its very nature, oppressive and exploitative. He argues that the oppression of man by man took a serious turn for the worse with the invention of money. He maintains that as long as money in any form is in force, it is bad news for ordinary citizens.

Those of us who have read Tolstoy, and followed his arguments on the matter, find it really difficult to disagree with him. And this, despite the fact that we also know that there is no return journey in history.

Individually, we may choose to be money-less. Or the economic system may help us to say money-less. But money will stay. Money is like the force of gravity. It will always be there. It is money that makes the mayor go, as the proverb says.

When we beat our breasts about Rs 90 lakh crore being hidden in overseas tax havens, impoverishing, as per the Modi Math, each Indian by Rs 15 lakh, Tolstoy will roar with laughter and roll on the ground.

He would ask, "Could this humungous amount have been taken out, from a system based on barter? If you create a system that lends itself to fraud, what right do you have to complain?"

If I were to exchange my hens for your pens, what overseas tax havens? But the thing is that for all of us living in a world of hens and pens - a world that meets everyone's needs but no one's greed - is unthinkable.

Money, if Tolstoy is to be heeded, is meant to facilitate exploitation, evasion, fraud and oppression. Violence and dishonesty are inherent in man's relationship with money. If that thesis is true, we will only have ourselves to blame, if we entertain unrealistic expectations of a pro-poor or even a pro-citizen trick being pulled off in the form of demonetisation.

At any rate, the concern for the common man is not evident in the manner of its implementation. Surely, the harassment of citizens could have been reduced in pursuing what purports to be a laudable goal.

Now my outlook on black money has changed a bit. Is it such a bad thing, after all? For whom is it such a bad thing?

The answer, quite frankly, is this: only for those who are not smart enough to have and to hoard it.

Do we really believe that politics in this country can ever happen without black money? Well, I don't.

Do we believe that corporate magic can happen without generating black money? Well, I don't.

Do we really believe that implementation of government programmes and projects can take place without adding, at each step, to the mountain of black money?

Rajiv Gandhi said that every rupee put into development shrank into 15 paise. Atal Bihari Bajpayee improved on it and said that the correct figure was 10 paise.

Are we to believe that the 90 paise per rupee that does the vanishing act remains shining white?

Do we really believe that even education will be administered without generating black money? Well, I don't.

Like everything else, this ostensibly economic measure too has become intensely politicised.

The issue uppermost in our minds is this: "Are the opposition parties criticising this move only because they want to protect corruption and the black economy?

Or, are they doing so because they believe that it is, at the bottom, a political surgical strike dressed up as an economic masterstroke?

It is too early to judge. But we won't have to wait too long to resolve these riddles. We need to do only the following:

1. Wait till the UP elections. The cat, if any, will leap out of the bag. Watch how much money each party invests in the campaign. Not even the BJP will argue that money did not play a decisive role in the 2014 general elections. Or, that only milky-white money was used.

2. Wait and see what economic benefits this confers on the citizens - people like us. Will it bring inflation down? Will this improve the quality of life for all citizens? Will the purchasing power of the rupee go up or down?

If black economy is today estimated, on a moderate count, at 40 per cent of our current GDP, its abolition alone should make each citizen richer several times over.

The economists I have heard in the past all maintained that if we were corruption free since 1947, each Indian would have been richer five times. So, we do have a reference point to judge.

If the black parallel economy is reined in and the black money parked overseas is brought back, India could be a gigantic Singapore.

We will then sing NaMo, NaMo, NaMo... At least I will.

Will this sleight of hand, on the contrary, make leave us impoverished?

If that is the case, we can safely conclude that this re-monetisation was meant to take us for a right royal ride. I would want to believe most ardently, desperately, that that won't be the case.