There are two issues about the current controversy about the use of political cartoons in NCERT textbooks that are worth thinking more deeply about— whether people’s ideas about politicians colour their idea about democracy and the role of political satire in democratic life.

Political satire is a keystone of democracy. This is because satirists persistently represent the point of view of humble voters in the periods between elections when most of their official representatives forget about them. For many years, millions of Indian voters have chuckled as they opened their newspapers each morning to R.K. Laxman’s Common Man’s latest wry observation, laughing with relief and gratitude for having had their thoughts uncannily voiced with wit and acerbity. It is this tradition of political satire, which both entertains and admonishes and cuts to the heart of the issue, that the political scientists advising the NCERT Board had sought to use as a pedagogical tool.

Each textbook is replete with cartoons such as the one now debated, alongside numerous other visuals, that don't merely make the text attractive to students, but serve precisely to raise the awkward but important questions about our past and thus deepening the thinking of the young minds learning about Indian politics. The cartoons in the textbooks are not just for laughs but are followed by questions, facts, alternative interpretations and comparative questions from other democracies. And as with all good satire, the victims in the sample of cartoons are picked without discrimination, fear or favour, as politics of all hues and stature is questioned and called to account by the satirist.

This is after all the country of Birbal, whose stories children and adults continue to tell in modern India, as a reminder that an ordinary courtier could speak truth to power, and humble even the great Akbar with his common sense and wisdom. The use of a rich body of political cartoons in the NCERT textbooks does justice to this liveliness and fearlessness in Indian political life in a way that their predecessor texts failed to do (those nondescript ‘Civics’ books that many of my age will remember with dread!).

That today’s MPs are so unnerved by this innovation in textbook writing, which makes the story of Indian politics so much more accessible and interesting, is indeed a sorry commentary on our political class, their priorities, and their distance from an Akbar who considered the querulous Birbal his most valuable friend. Our parliamentarians have been quick to take umbrage at these pedagogical pinpricks of their pride but have they thought through what such a reactionary response would mean for the students whose 'pure view' of politicians they now seek to protect? What exactly are they proposing? That until an ‘independent review’ is conducted the students should not look at these cartoons? Should the books be confiscated from them as being too incendiary and liable to cause irrevocable damage? And what will happen once it is decided to withdraw the cartoons? Given the accompanying text is organically linked to a discussion of the cartoons, surely these ‘changes’ will effectively mean a complete rewriting of the books. What do the parliamentarians suggest the students should do until then? And should newspapers, websites and advertisements also be purged, to further protect them from cartoon exposure?

The second issue is a feature of Indian democracy that is perhaps less widely known but equally relevant. Research on voters in India shows that they make a sharp distinction between politicians, whom they are sceptical about, and democracy, which they respect and value. Survey research among Indian voters (incidentally directed by the same political scientists who were advisors on these textbooks) shows that while the middle classes living in the largest cities might be apathetic about voting, those who live in India’s smaller towns and villages, and who are often society’s most disadvantaged citizens, are hugely enthusiastic about elections and the democratic system. They turn out in very high numbers to vote and state their preference, when asked to choose, for an inefficient democracy over an efficient authoritarian regime.

Further ethnographic research into this startling finding (which goes against trends in Western states) has revealed that these very same voters who think voting is important, also believe that politicians and their world of politics is demonic, corrupt and violent. But they refuse to let their scepticism about politicians colour their own political participation, which they see as essential to a functioning democracy. They see their own role as voters precisely as holding politicians to account at election time and thereby fulfilling their duty as citizens in maintaining a robust and functioning system. Like the disrespect and near anarchy of cartoons, elections are themselves carnivalesque, reversing for a day the status quo as the powerful have to come begging for votes (there are some wonderful election related cartoons in the same textbooks). On Election Day, uniquely in public life, regardless of caste, wealth, gender or any other marker of social distinction, all voters are treated equally and each vote has equal value. No wonder then that elections have come to be regarded as sacrosanct. Through their participation, people assert the importance of the role of the electorate to the democratic process, their ability to hold the powerful to account, and above all to show their commitment to democracy. They wave their freshly inked fingers at the hubris of the politicians, much as the cartoonists wield their pens.

Thus, those MPs and ministers supporting the removal of all political cartoons on the grounds that they may undermine young minds' respect for politicians and democracy need to pause before wrongly conflating democracy with politicians. The truth of the matter is that Indian citizens are enthusiastic supporters of democracy while remaining clear-eyed about the venality of politicians. Those worried parliamentarians can rest easy, for the children of India are likely to retain their faith in democracy, just as their parents have done, and more likely to do so if exposed to cartoons and top notch text books. Whether they will respect politicians more than their parents is of course another matter, especially if politicians insist on rendering themselves absurd through over-reaction. Perhaps it is time that those stridently insecure parliamentarians learn that respect is earned not taught. Heeding the lessons of political satire is a good place to start.

Dr. Mukulika Banerjee is Reader, London School of Economics and Political Science and is author of the forthcoming book Why India Votes