Leading presidents and prime ministers from around the world are meeting for the annual G20 leaders’ summit in India’s capital, Delhi, from 9-10 September.

Narendra Modi is an authoritarian figure who, as India’s prime minister since 2014, has pushed his country into increasingly becoming a “de facto ethnic democracy”, in which Hindus define the national identity and non-Hindus are seen as second-class citizens. Yet as the host of the upcoming talks of the world’s 20 largest economies, Mr Modi will be feted by major global leaders – except his absent fellow strongmen Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin.

Mr Modi’s dangerous majoritarianism is too easily overlooked by the west, as the G20 glad-handing will show. India had been considered an exemplary liberal parliamentary democracy among developing countries. This is being slowly dismantled by Mr Modi’s brand of Hindu nationalism. State intimidation has seen civil society harassed and critics jailed. A report by a group of prominent lawyers last year warned that “the administration of law has become the means by which … the Muslim community can be kept in a state of perpetual fear”. Since May, the north-eastern Indian state of Manipur has been burning, with its valley Hindus and highland Christians sinking into bloody fighting. Mr Modi’s party blames non-Hindus for the violence.

The Indian prime minister shares the ideological viewpoint of Donald Trump, Marine Le Pen in France and Hungary’s Viktor Orbán. Mr Modi claims India suffered 1,000 years of servitude: 750 years of Muslim rule, plus 250 years of British rule. Pulling down, or discarding, symbols of that history – mosques, mausoleums, Lutyens’ Delhi buildings – is excused, in this thinking, because this represents a national, Hindu resurgence. Mr Modi tellingly speaks of 1,000 years of rule to come.

The west thinks that it must keep stumm because it needs India to contain China. But at what cost to democracy and human rights? Mukul Kesavan, an Indian historian, wrote earlier this year that when the White House rolled out the red carpet for Mr Modi, “One of the more entertaining things about [his] visit has been the sight of [Joe] Biden welcoming a foreign leader who had openly campaigned for his predecessor and liberal bête noire, Donald Trump.”

Last year, Gothenburg University’s annual report on the state of global democracy warned of a wave of “autocratization” spreading around the world. Since 2020, the report said, India has not been a working democracy but an “electoral autocracy” similar to that in Russia. All is not lost. India’s next general election will provide a chance for the public to have its say – though how much remains to be seen, given that a peer-reviewed paper suggested that in 2019 Mr Modi won around 11 seats by suppressing the Muslim vote. Its author, a respected economist, quit after his university failed to back him. The arrival of the opposition Indian National Developmental Inclusive Alliance, otherwise known as INDIA, has also unsettled Mr Modi. Perhaps peeved at being opposed by “INDIA”, Mr Modi wants to respond only to the country’s Sanskrit name “Bharat”.

India’s prime minister says the G20 should let the global south shape the world’s future. As Human Rights Watch pointed out this week, “many proposed summit topics – debt crises, social protection programs, food security, climate change, internet freedom – are at their root about human rights”. Britain has its own share of democratic backsliding. But if Mr Modi desires successful outcomes then he, like all autocratic leaders, should understand why his actions at home undermine the arguments he wants to promote abroad.

Western democracies are wrong to overlook a country’s descent into electoral autocracy because they believe they need it to contain China

What is the G20?

The G20 – or Group of Twenty – is a club of countries which meets to discuss plans for the global economy.

Between them, G20 countries account for 85% of the world’s economic output and 75% of world trade. They contain two-thirds of the global population.

The members are the European Union and 19 nations – Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, France, Germany, India, Indonesia, Italy, Japan, Mexico, Russia, Saudi Arabia, South Africa, South Korea, Turkey, the UK and the US. Spain is always invited as a guest.

A smaller group of G20 member countries meets as the G7.

Some of the G20 member nations – Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa – have formed a separate group called Brics.

This is due to expand, having invited six other nations to join at its recent summit: Argentina, Egypt, Iran, Ethiopia, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates.

What does the group discuss?

The issues discussed by G20 leaders have broadened in recent years from just economics to include issues such as climate change, sustainable energy, international-debt forgiveness and taxing multinational corporations.

Every year, a different G20 member state takes over the presidency and sets the agenda for meetings.

Indonesia held the presidency in 2022, and the leaders’ summit was held in Bali.

As 2023 president, India wants the Delhi event to concentrate on sustainable development, as well as measures to spread economic growth more evenly between developed and developing countries.

The summit also provides an opportunity for one-to-one discussions to take place alongside group sessions.

The White House says that US President Joe Biden will talk to individual leaders about tackling climate change, Russia’s war in Ukraine, and getting global organisations such as the World Bank to do more to fight poverty.

However, the Kremlin says Russia’s President Vladimir Putin will not be attending the summit, and it’s been widely reported that China’s President Xi Jinping will also stay away.

Are there any controversial issues for G20 countries?

Russia’s war in Ukraine is likely to cause discord at the Delhi summit.

In March 2022, the G20 foreign ministers were unable to reach agreements at their meeting because of fierce arguments over the war between the US and Russia delegations.

At the Bali leaders’ summit in November 2022, discussions were dominated by a crisis involving missiles from the war falling on Poland’s side of the border with Ukraine.

In May, China and Saudi Arabia boycotted a G20 meeting on tourism which was held in Indian-administered Kashmir because the Kashmir region contains territory claimed by Pakistan as well as India.

A row has also broken out between India and China over a long-running border dispute, after Beijing released a map which claims the state of Arunachal Pradesh and the Aksai Chin plateau as Chinese territory.

What does the summit mean for India?

India has been positioning itself as a leading voice of developing countries known as the Global South in recent years and G20 is seen as its chance to deliver on these promises on a bigger stage.

The summit also comes ahead of the 2024 general elections in India and could bolster Mr Modi’s image as a leader who commands respect on the global stage.

The government has held hundreds of meeting across some 50 cities in the run-up to the summit in Delhi.

For months, cities and towns have been dotted with shiny billboards featuring the G20 logo and Mr Modi’s photos, framing the event as the prime minister’s earnest attempt to bring the world to India.

Mr Modi also appears to share a personal rapport with many of his G20 counterparts, including President Biden who accorded him a coveted state visit in June.

That said, the summit is not expected to be a breeze for India, given the current complex geopolitical situation.

Many economies are still struggling to recover from the pandemic and have grown increasingly anxious about the war and its economic impact, with global surges in food and energy prices.

Why is there a ‘family photo’?

At the end of key summits, the heads of government often pose for a group photograph, known as the “family photo”.

However, the diplomatic discord revealed by the image sometimes makes headlines in its own right.

In 2018, following the killing of journalist Jamal Khashoggi at the Saudi consulate in Istanbul, Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman was largely ignored, and made to stand at the far end of the group.

What has the G20 achieved?

At the 2008 and 2009 leaders’ summits, during the financial crisis, leaders agreed a host of measures to rescue the global economic system.

But some critics argue that subsequent summits have been less successful, often as a result of tensions between rival world powers.

However, bilateral meetings at the summit have often proved constructive.

In 2019, at Osaka, then-US president Donald Trump and Chinese President Xi Jinping agreed to resume talks to settle a major trade dispute.

Do G20 summits attract protests?

Big demonstrations often take place around the leaders’ summits.

Anti-capitalist protesters demonstrated at the 2010 summit in Toronto and the 2017 summit in Hamburg.

Thousands of demonstrators marched during the 2018 summit in Rio de Janeiro to protest against the G20’s economic policies.

In 2009 Ian Tomlinson, a newspaper seller, died after he was caught up in protests during the G20 summit in London.

World Opinions +The Guarasidian + BBC NEWS + Agencies

L’article View on India’s G20 summit: a backsliding democracy gets to play host est apparu en premier sur زوايا ميادين | Mayadin Columns.

During the holy month, legions of cooks gather at restaurants, warehouses, and street stalls to spend hours mashing the savory porridge of mutton, wheat, and spices, a beloved fixture of night markets and family iftar feasts.

ForFor much of the year, dawn breaks over sleepy lanes in Hyderabad, India, as chai and newspaper vendors rush to deliver piping hot tea alongside the news. But during Ramadan, mornings in the Old City, Secunderabad, Mallepally, Tolichowki, and other neighborhoods bring a different kind of activity. Dozens of eateries and warehouses fill with workers starting the long process of making massive amounts of haleem, an iconic savory porridge-like dish enjoyed across the Muslim world but especially beloved in Hyderabad during Ramadan, when it becomes a staple of the nightly iftar meal.

Across its many locations, the legendary Pista House, a name nearly synonymous with haleem, prepares around two tons of the dish every day during the holy month. The operation at the restaurant, and at many others, is a communal effort. Legions of cooks (including many temp workers hired just for the month) set up firewood, chop mutton, grind wheat, prep lentils, clean herbs and chiles, strain rose petals, crush cardamom, chop cinnamon bark, and ready other spices and ingredients before piling everything into bhattis, mud or brick kilns fitted with huge cauldrons. Then it’s all hands on deck, as crews of Muslims as well as non-Muslims work like well-oiled machines, using wooden mallets to rhythmically pound the mixture as it cooks for up to 12 hours. (If you thought tricep dips were hard, try pounding tons of meat into a paste, every day for a month, while fasting.)

As the sun sets, the streets transform again with a new flurry of activity. The usually traffic-packed road around the iconic Charminar monument and mosque is blocked off to allow pedestrians to explore freely. Almost simultaneously, thousands of stalls spring up, selling all things festive: shimmery bangles, little jars of attar (perfume), colorful sarees, embroidered anarkalis. Here and across the city, restaurants shift their attention to serving the food they spent all day preparing. Workers distribute Styrofoam bowls filled with haleem, topped with caramelized onions, coriander, shorba (meat consomme), slices of lemon, and other fixings.

Mohammed Sibghatullah Khan of Deccan Archive, a digital publication preserving Hyderabad’s heritage, recalls relatives across Hyderabad coming together during his childhood to prepare the feast that follows the fast. “Back then, this was the only time I got to eat haleem,” he says. The more family members who showed up to help, the more the work could be shared, with everyone taking turns to lend a hand in preparing the dish (at home, many families cook the elements of haleem separately before combining and mashing them to make the work a bit easier). Today, his family heads to Shah Ghouse, a popular choice, to fetch “buckets of haleem,” he says. “Cooking this dish has become a rare sight” in his house, Khan adds with a chuckle.

After he offers his prayers, Khan breaks the fast with his community over dates, fresh and dried fruits, and a handful of pakoras, before everyone disperses to hit the stalls, alongside diners of all backgrounds eating, shopping, and searching for the best bowl of haleem.

How did haleem come to Hyderabad?

The dish can be traced back to Arabian cookbooks from the 10th century. A predecessor called harees (also spelled jareesh) also consists of mashed meat and wheat; it came to India with Arab mercenaries, likely from Yemen, during Muslim rule in Hyderabad under the Nizams. These soldiers enjoyed harees for breakfast, when its high calories were especially useful. The barracks that housed these mercenaries eventually gave their name to the Barkas neighborhood, today home to hundreds of thousands of Arab descendants. You’ll still find harees year-round in Barkas, like at the long-standing Madina Hotel and Hadrami Harees, two restaurants that inspire long lines of customers as early as 5 a.m. and often scrape the bottom of their pots for the last harees by 10 a.m. (A sweeter version of harees is also on the menu at some eateries, though it’s not as popular.)

Unlike mild harees, which usually calls for equal parts wheat and meat, haleem calls for double the meat. Over time, locals augmented the ratio and added more seasoning. Though Hyderabad is equally famous and protective of its biryani, during Ramadan, the rice dish is quite literally on the back burner — which alone speaks volumes about the passion for haleem.

Versions of haleem and related dishes are hugely popular in Pakistan, Bangladesh, Iran, West Asian countries, and Turkey. Across India, haleem can be found in Iranian restaurants in Mumbai; eateries in Bangalore’s Fraser Town, Old Delhi, Lucknow, Chennai, Ludhiana, and Goa; in traces in relative dishes like aleesa in Kerala, harissa in Kashmir, and khichra in Gujarat; and at many family gatherings and weddings.

Over the last decade especially, meat consumption, especially beef, has been a flash point for violence by right-wing Hindus on Muslim communities (as well as on Indigenous Adivasis and Dalits) as nationalists have pressed for the widespread adoption of vegetarianism. Given the context, the scene in Hyderabad during Ramadan, with crowds of Muslims, Hindus, and other non-Muslims all enjoying haleem, is striking.

What makes Hyderabadi haleem so popular?

At its best, haleem is an amalgamation of sensations and flavors — gamey mutton, subtly aromatic rose petals, punchy spices, slick ghee, generous fixings — all delivered in a caloric, easily digestible bowl. Anas Murtuza, the food critic behind BeingHydFoodie, claims he could fast for days after one bowl of haleem — though that doesn’t stop him from constantly visiting his go-to shop, City Diamond, a favorite of residents in Mehdipatnam..

World Opinions – Eater.com

L’article During Ramadan in Hyderabad, All Roads Lead to Haleem est apparu en premier sur زوايا ميادين | Mayadin Columns.

Indians took the tea the British were marketing to them, added spices, milk and sugar, and transformed it forever.

I remember jumping up to sit on the kitchen counter one afternoon. My five-year-old self wants to watch my mother making chai. She pushes me away from the gas stove but I am indignant and refuse to hop down, although I do move away a bit.

The water bubbles. She adds sugar, then takes a flat steel grater, balances it on the edge of the pot and grates in adrak (ginger).

“Why do we add this?” I ask, watching the shreds fall into the bubbling water.

“Child, I have to hurry I don’t have time for your questions,” she says. I sulk but I know that, being a doctor, she has to get to the hospital on time. I will ask grandma, I tell myself.

The ginger threads dance in the water. Then she adds the tea leaves, turning the contents of the pot brown. Stirring, she adds milk and lets it simmer over a low flame, still stirring. After a few minutes, she removes it from the heat and covers it. I hop down to watch the next step. She strains it in cups, puts them on a tray, and carries it to the dining table.

I run out. I have no interest in tasting it but am proud, boasting to my friends: “I know how to make chai.” By the end of the day, I have memorised the process forever.

I don’t want to ask to taste it because I know if I do, she will dilute it with more milk. “Children should not drink tea,” she would say. I hated that pale milky liquid.

The first time I tasted real chai, I was in grade three. I had scored good marks on a maths test and ran home that August afternoon to share the news with my mother and grandparents as they were having their chai. Basking in the appreciation and pats on my back, I asked if I could have chai. Mother refused, but grandfather smiled and poured some into a cup. I took it and breathed the aroma in deeply. I took one sip, then the second. The creamy, rich beverage warmed my heart and spirit and at that precise moment, I became a chai lover.

I yearned to make chai but wasn’t allowed. “What if you spill the boiling water and get burned,” my grandmother would fret. Finally, when I was in grade five, she reluctantly allowed me to make it under her supervision and soon I was making it alone.

I felt so accomplished, measuring water, grating ginger, and scooping sugar and tea leaves to add to the boiling water. Watching the tea leaves spinning with the ginger. Then adding the milk and watching it lighten the chai and simmer, steeping the flavours. “A good cup of chai needs a slow fire,” I was told, something I follow to this day.

Fast forward a few years, and I am on my way home on a bitterly cold January evening in Indore. The sun is on leave and the wind drills into my bones. I enter a silent, cold apartment – my mother isn’t back from the hospital yet and my grandmother has moved to live with my uncle since my grandfather passed away.

I need chai. Soon, I’m sitting with a hot, steaming cup, sipping it slowly. I close my eyes, savouring the sweet milk, sharp ginger and cinnamon. By then, I was experimenting with spices and adding what felt right at the moment – cinnamon, fennel, green cardamom and more. I would add lemongrass, holy basil and peppercorns if I had a cold or sore throat.

Chai is tea, tea is chai

Chai in India is a drink for no reason and for every reason, morning, afternoon, evening and night. It lifts your spirits while studying for the maths paper or learning chemistry formulas. It spices college gossip and fans rumours. A welcoming or parting drink, to convince friends and family to stay longer to share more stories.

It brings everyone together. It is served in homes, board meetings, college canteens, cafes and at weddings. “Chalo chai ho jaye,” (Let’s have tea) is heard every day.

Tea is chai in India. When, where, and how the first cup of chai was brewed is still up for debate, but the stories from our elders give us an idea about the evolution of this delicious, addictive beverage.

Prerna Kumar, founder of ChaiVeda and purveyor of medicinal blends, says: “The early reference to tea is found in the Buddhist texts where the monks drank some kind of tea while fasting and meditating.

“They made tea from foraged tea leaves and perhaps added certain flowers to the decoction to help them feel calmer.”…

By Nupur Roopa – Aljazeera

L’article Chai is tea, tea is chai: India’s favourite hot drink est apparu en premier sur زوايا ميادين | Mayadin Columns.