Beig blunder: Rich kids of the counter-insurgency
As his son “Tony” will tell you – though by now he must have had his internet privileges revoked – it’s not easy being Shakeel Beig. He is the deputy inspector general of police in Jammu and Kashmir, amongst the highest-ranking officers of an underfunded force tasked with quelling unrest in one of the most volatile regions in the world. In addition, as Yasmeen Mohiuddin reported in Scroll, J&K’s police force has this old knack of itself producing insurgents, with the boundary so blurred on occasion that even those who admit to past militancy have been recruited back into the fold. Beig is a target of derision amongst many fellow Kashmiris, who consider him a stooge of an overbearing Indian state.
The police honcho would have comforted himself with the thought that he had friends south of Srinagar, at least in Delhi. And he did – just this year he was given the President’s Police Medal. But it is safe to say that such plaudits are in the past now, after his son posted a series of pictures to a popular photo-sharing website proclaiming Beig a “king” who uses the lower rungs of the J&K police as little more than serfs.
Tony Beig is clearly inspired by a band of youngsters who have become famous as the #richkidsofinstagram. The sons and daughters of billionaires, this lot moor their yachts in Miami and Monaco and spend their summer champagne-showering in nightclubs and Swarovski pools, smashing up supercars and finding plenty of other ways to bask in their own stupidity. In midst this hedonism they pause to post a snapshot of each tacky adventure to Instagram. It is a way of establishing a wealth hierarchy on social media, which had until then proven rather more resistant than television to rewarding those whose chief aspiration was to be the next Paris Hilton.
The first controversial photograph shows Beig having his shoes tied by a manservant (son’s caption: “Real king – My Dad! Last time he put his shoes himself was almost 15 years ago” #Bosslife #kingxx). Another shows a policeman holding an umbrella over the heads of son and father, while yet another shows a police officer being utilised as a golf caddy by the duo. Each photograph is bedecked with numerous other #king hashtags, just in case anyone missed his point.
The reactions to the son’s online indiscretions remind me of the anger that greeted Rajnath Singh’s first act of public note as home minister, when he was photographed having a Border Security Force jawan tie his shoelaces during a visit to Kutch. Yet on both occasions, what is in fact notable is that Indians have reacted with anger and shock. The anger I can understand; most of it stemmed not from the act itself – that two able men deemed it necessary for a poorer man to lace their shoes up – but the disrespect Beig and Rajnath heaped on the respective uniforms. Their crime was to disrespect the nation.
Then why the surprise? This kind of obeisance is common in India – in the right spaces, the rich, those wielding religious power, politicians and the highest echelons of both police and Army have come to expect this and numerous other indignities from those sufficiently low in the hierarchy. The difference is that these strictures are usually imposed inside the home or other zones deemed safe. Tony Beig’s mistake was taking a moment that was a commonplace of his home to the wider world. It is somewhat hypocritical that we in India have been so quick to judge, but are unwilling to look at how we ourselves contribute to a culture where this sort of thing is permissible – nothing out of the ordinary, in fact.
In posting those photographs, intended for a largely Western audience I imagine, Beig was exoticising India’s inbuilt feudalism. It is no coincidence that each of the inflammatory posts associated his father with royalty. Though he did not intend to, Beig was telling the world that India’s class structures are so rigid that they defy both uniform and Constitution.
Consider the proud young policeman who has been brought to the point of servility. This is someone who has worked hard at physique and intellect to reach the police force in the first place. What makes him caddy, carry an umbrella, put on another man’s shoes? The answer to that is simple. It is because he knows that he must be just this servile to remain in his job. It is because he knows that no complaint to official channels will do him any good. It is because he knows that, that he does this.
In India we are too happy to believe that the poor are willing bearers of our horrific impositions. Tony Beig and his father are hardly the only ones.