Mumbai Day 19: On the Local and Global
“For multinational merchants like Wal-Mart, it seemed to be the long-awaited opportunity to jump into India with both feet. But on Monday that moment appeared to be delayed once again. … Late last month, as part of a push to modernize his nation’s notoriously inefficient retail economy, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh announced that for the first time big foreign companies like Wal-Mart and the British company Tesco could open retail stores in India.
“At present, barely 6 percent of India’s $470 billion in retail sales takes place in organized retail stores, according to Technopak, a Indian consulting firm. The rest takes place in small shops. By contrast, organized retail makes up more than 20 percent of sales in China and 36 percent in Brazil — the two emerging economies to which India most frequently compares itself. (The figure is 85 percent in the United States.)”
The above, an excerpt from The New York Times article “Wal-Mart Debate Rages in India,” typifies the protectionistic attitudes of India at the present moment. In preventing global multi-national corporations from penetrating this vast––yet highly insulated––market, bureaucrats have, to a large extent, ossified the Indian economy. While countries such as China and Brazil openly embrace foreign direct and indirect investment, India has been far more cautious in its flirtations with global capital. Only now are small boutiques, advertising the likes of Nike or Levi’s, opening in otherwise-local retail districts.
While many economists and journalists have been quick to analyze this attitude of protectionism and, later, its impact on daily life in India, it seems the influences of this defensive strategy carry far, stepping well outside the bounds of more routine analysis.
My first encounter with symptoms of this insulation occurred within minutes of arriving in India. Collected at the airport by a taxi and its driver, I was expected to deliver my baggage to a newly-rented apartment. The driver had been given the address of my residence, but, much to my surprise, seemed to have little idea where the apartment was located, despite my attempted display of the iPhone’s maps application. Instead, we pulled off to the side of the road every five minutes to ask for directions from passers-by. Each had his or her own idea as to the location of the apartment; we circled the same neighborhood for thirty minutes (with much trial and error) before finally pinpointing my future residence’s location. Toward the end of our saga, the taxi driver even invited an older gentleman (and complete stranger) inside the car, who helped to give us turn-by-turn directions as we wound through the smaller streets of Mumbai.
Not only did it seem peculiar to rely solely on poorly-vetted, local knowledge for such important and highly quantitative information, the ease with which the driver conversed with complete strangers was rather startling. Many in America go to extreme lengths to avoid contact with fellow humans, especially inside the cocoon of an automobile––technological devices, and a reliance on “official” knowledge, have completely replaced incidental interaction with strangers. Trust in India, by comparison, still very much lies with other people, not with multi-national corporations.
This incident exemplifies a culture largely impervious to many social norms associated with iPhones, big-box retail, and American suburbanism; it is still, by and large, a local society, one which holds a momentary immunity from ever-intensifying global anesthesia. But what is most interesting about this absence of globally-impregnated market forces, especially for urbanists, is the social cohesion it seems to support within the city itself, and its positive effects within the context of urban experience.
There are many factors at play when it comes to generating a strong sense of social cohesion within cities: density, transportation, public allotments, even weather. In my mind, however, this continued reliance on local structures, rather than those from overseas, plays an enormous role in determining the experience of residents or visitors in Mumbai. Here, it is a major component of the kinetic city: the urban fabric does not wait for global, formal development to respond to the market’s ceaseless demands. Rather, local, informal constructions bare much of the work, and the vibrancy and complexity of the city thrives as a result.
It is indeed true that there are many challenges with the continued reliance on the local here: as the Times article illustrates from its outset, India’s economy is “notoriously inefficient,” and the country’s bureaucrats have expressed a desire (in theory, anyway) to modernize India’s financial institutions, to allow global networks deep inside its cities and states. Part of their reluctance, however, has much to do with the delicate nature and overwhelming complexity of the country’s markets. Most worryingly, there is a strong fear that many of these local structures will not hold to the pressures of the global neo-liberal market. Economic, political, social, and urban turmoil could soon result from a poorly-managed transition.
China’s recent foray into this global limelight (though by many standards successful) may prove the best cautionary tale, especially when it comes to retaining a locally-minded culture amidst the competition of global economic forces. In an unprecedented rush to the fore of the world’s stage, China’s newest cities have been scraped clean of the urbanism which vibrates in Mumbai today, eradicated of improvised economies and frenetic trade. Rather, by importing American architecture, big-box retailers, and the most advanced technological innovations from around the world, cities like Shenzhen now closely resemble the most culturally-vapid and alienating Western metropolises. In a frenzy to “modernize,” and to embrace the global, urban centers in mainland China have lost their idiosyncrasies, peculiarities, and decidedly “local” context.
Let me be clear: I am not advocating the retention of local styles, forms, or other superficial elements of the urban realm. Rather, my argument is a protest against the erasure of a delicate and fantastic urbanism, one which, without proper care, will transform into an tumorous pseudo-Americanism, a generic city devoid of the term’s most positive connotations.
The challenge, then, is maintaining the vibrant social and urban implications of Mumbai’s locally-minded and informally-generated metropolitan fabric, while attempting to open country’s markets to direct and indirect investment from abroad. This is not an easy task. Like a game of pick-up-sticks, the economic interrelationships in Mumbai––and India as a whole––rest in a delicate and complex balance. Alter one portion of the system, and the lives of millions may be adversely affected for many years to come.