Covid-19 Vaccine

WE MAY BE excited at the development of the vaccine to fight Covid-19, but it is still months away from mass production. So tamp down hope of an early normalisation. Medical experts are still not sure if the vaccine will prevent further spread of the virus or will merely heal those already infected. Though some of our state governments have been most haphazard in handling the crisis—the Kejriwal government is a prime example—overall, we do not seem to have done badly in keeping the infections and fatalities under near control. This is particularly so considering the havoc the virus has wrought in some of the most advanced countries. Trump’s America offers itself as a test case for how not to handle a global health emergency. But even the well-administered nations, such as Germany, Sweden and Spain, are experiencing a belated surge in infections. Which makes me wonder how we in India seem to be getting away without paying a heavier price, especially given our humongous population and the woeful state of health infrastructure. Remember almost 18 million Indians had perished under the British from the influenza pandemic in 1918-1919. We don’t seem to be doing badly in blunting the challenge of this once-in-a-century pandemic in 2019-2020. Therefore, I was happy to find endorsement of my amateurish hypothesis that we Indians are hard-wired to fight all manner of viruses from our very birth.

The other day, a popular website of an international media network published a paper which suggested that as a people, we enjoy greater immunity due to the very factors which are commonly held against us. Contaminated water with all manner of impurities, adulterated milk, medicines, foodstuff, etcetera prepare us from an early age to take these things in our stride. Polluted air, terrible personal hygiene habits, lack of general health awareness are all part of the mix which goes to fortify us against various viruses. Most Indians have heard of the Delhi belly Westerners often complain of after spending a day or two in the capital or elsewhere in India. (On the other hand, Indians often have issues consuming clean water, air, food in Western countries since their digestive system is long inured to a wholly contaminated daily regimen of food and drink.) It is because the Westerners are not used to the water and food we consume daily. Small wonder then the strongest of them have crumbled like nine pins before the onslaught of the coronavirus. And we are so blasé that even a Rs 2,000 penalty does not deter us from stirring out mask-less and without maintaining the mandatory six-foot distance from fellow Indians in the nation’s capital. Because we have higher immunity against the virus. Incidentally, the website that put out the above paper cautioned that it had not been peer reviewed. But my point is, does it need a peer review if the analysts have accounted for the infections and fatalities in Bihar where even rudimentary health services are hard to find? And which has succeeded in containing the virus far better than the national capital with all its super-duper private and public hospitals. Last but not least, that which seems simple and commonsensical does not necessarily have to be unsound in empirical knowledge and reasoning.

JUST AS I was finishing the column, the sad news came about Ahmed Patel’s death from complications arising from Covid-19. Of the three Congress leaders I got to know rather well in my 40-plus years as a media hack, he was the last surviving member. First to go was Jag Pravesh Chandra. Though nearly two decades older, the former Delhi chief executive councillor, a precursor of the present-day chief minister, became a close friend. There was nothing we did not talk about, including the inner workings of the faction-ridden Delhi Congress. Murli Deora, a former Central minister and chief of the Mumbai Congress, was like a member of the family. Neither Chandra nor Murli allowed my strong views of their party to come between us. And it was thanks to Murli that I got to know Ahmed Bhai up close. His legendary clout in the UPA decade did not affect his genuine warmth and courtesy. In the Central Hall of Parliament, often there were two parallel ‘durbars’, at one end Arun Jaitley would hold court offering his take on everything under the sun over cups of coffee. At the other end, mostly over lunch, another set of journalists would try and extract ‘inside info’ from an easily accessible but invariably taciturn political secretary to Sonia Gandhi. With two pillars of the Central Hall gone rather prematurely, it matters little if the nation’s hall of gossip survives the ongoing remaking of Lutyens’ Delhi.

About The Author

Virendra Kapoor

Virendra Kapoor is a political commentator based in Delhi