Kanika Datta: The multinational bogey, again

SWOT

Now that the pesticide controversy has erupted again, much heat is being expended on whether Indians are subjected to slow poison every time they drink a multinational-produced soft drink or bottled water. Given the complexities of the issue, the common citizen would be forgiven for being unable to judge the veracity""or lack thereof""of the arguments on both sides.

One striking but little-noticed point, however, is the selective nature of the public debate. It is limited to two prominent multinationals that probably spend loads of money strenuously marketing their products to a relatively small majority of Indians who are ready and willing to buy them. The controversy appears to omit from its ambit the gamut of local soft drink makers""from the juicewalahs to those selling luridly-coloured drinks on railway platforms. They retail their cheaper products to far larger swathes of the Indian population and don't appear to be unduly bothered by such food standards as the government may think fit to notify.

Now that we know that pesticide is present, willy nilly, in most food, can we be sure that the sweet lime or sugarcane the roadside juicewalah squeezes into a delicious juice has a government-mandated level of pesticide? The argument that a pesticide-filled sweet lime is probably healthier than a pesticide-ridden cola because the former contains Vitamin C is surely spurious.

To be sure, it is not wrong per se to focus on the practices of multinationals, not least because they tend to make ostentatious claims that leave them vulnerable to challenge. Who can forget the huge controversy created by Doonesbury's evocative cartoons about US corporations and sweatshops in Mexico and Asia?

Nor is there anything to criticise in an NGO highlighting the issue of pesticide presence in foods. Civil society in India is still weak and such initiatives all go towards strengthening consumer awareness. Also, should the controversy actually force the government to ensure more stringent food standards, so much the better.

But the unfortunate consequence of this debate is that it has diverted attention from the bigger issue at hand. Does industry in India""big or small, Indian or foreign""follow adequate standards of health and safety? Far from bringing this into the public focus, there appears to be general glee that multinationals may or may not have been caught in flagrante, so to speak. Big Business, especially if it is of foreign provenance, is something everyone loves to hate.

As with the retreat of KFC and the media censure over Coke despoiling the environment near the Rohtang Pass some years ago, we appear to be following double standards. Consider KFC, whose entry into India had been controversial to start with. After a brief stint, it had to close shop because it allegedly failed to meet certain mandated hygiene standards. This is reprehensible no doubt, but the incident is also puzzling. If KFC's kitchens were unhygienic""as they may well have been""it defies credulity that thousands of other restaurants in India have escaped closure on the same grounds.

Similarly, when a Coke franchisee near the Rohtang Pass painted advertisements over ecologically protected rocks, the media went crazy. What it chose not to highlight is the host of other offenders""from locals offering tuition, to a bookseller to the government's Border Security Force. Singling out Coke highlighted the fact that a Big Bad Multinational had been caught in wrong-doing. What about MBD Books, whose ads on the Rohtang rocks were no less prominent? Was it subjected to public opprobrium? Forced to issue a contrite statement?

Again, a great deal of controversy was recently generated when a French ship laden with asbestos was headed for the shipbreaking yard at Alang. Thanks to a Supreme Court order it was""rightly""turned back. The general approval was loud""a polluting foreigner had been sent packing. Yet, apart from some weak NGO protests, little is heard of the thousands of workers who are exposed to the consequences of asbestos poisoning in factories owned by domestic businessmen all over India. Asbestos, defended by big Indian business interests, continues to be a widely used material in India's construction industry even as it is banned in large parts of the developed world.

If the haute houses of Paris and Milan derive their profits from sweatshops in Asia, the situation is no different in India, where some of the country's top designers run tailoring outfits that can only be described as Dickensian. As for India's textile industry, which is being positioned as an exports racehorse, a former textile secretary once candidly admitted that foreign garment retailers would "run away if they saw conditions in Indian powerlooms"""the very powerlooms that government tax breaks encouraged.

The point is that rules and standards cannot be discriminating. Sure, multinationals must follow them and it is reprehensible if they don't. But domestic business should not escape them, either. In business as in sports, the level playing field cuts both ways.

The views here are personal