Sadly, things have not happened as expected. Certainly, the Maharashtra government has moved, albeit slowly, on some aspects of Mumbai infrastructure including fixing the anomaly of low floor space index in Greater Mumbai, and moving the bid process forward for coastal roads that would decongest the island city. But the focus of the government so far has also been on social issues, where it has played an obscurantist role. First came the beef ban - technically, a ban on the slaughter of bulls and bullocks, but which included criminal penalties, such as a punishment of five-year jail, for even the possession of beef. Naturally, this was seen as an anti-minority step. It also, however, damaged Mumbai's reputation as a global city, something that affects all of India. The determination with which a government that had sold itself as development-focused moved on the beef ban startled and dismayed many.
But other treats were in store. Last week, for example, the state's culture minister, Vinod Tawde, told the Assembly that the government would make it compulsory for multiplex owners to show one Marathi movie at prime time, which most took to mean between 6 and 9 pm. Naturally, this led to considerable anger and even ridicule. The government responded by extending the definition of "prime time" backward, but not by withdrawing the diktat. Indeed, the Shiv Sena decided to picket the home of Shobhaa De, the writer and columnist who spoke out against the multiplex decision. Ms De had suggested sarcastically that the government also compulsorily replace popcorn with vada pao, healthy Mumbai street food that features fried potato inside a large buttered bun. She was even threatened with a privilege motion in the Assembly.
On the question of Marathi movies, the government could at least make the case that the promotion of vernacular cultural products is not unique to Maharashtra. And, in this case, what the government was strengthening was an old law that promised Maharashtra multiplexes concessions on the state's ruinous entertainment tax - around 50 per cent for tickets in the over-Rs -200 range - in return for a few Marathi-language shows a year. However, the government does not understand how the promotion of culture should be done without being oppressive. Instead of compulsory showings, the price should be changed. Either offer subsidies for the production of films, as is done in Europe; or, if that is considered inadvisable, which it is, reduce the rate of entertainment tax for Marathi-language films. Ironically, Marathi cinema has been on a roll recently. The award-winning Fandry, made in 2013, featured an unusual inter-caste romance between a Dalit boy and an upper-caste girl. And the recently-released Court just won the National Award for best movie, amid rave reviews. Clearly, Marathi cinema isn't exactly in crisis.
Mumbai's cosmopolitan fabric is already frayed. Such attacks may destroy it. And that would come at a severe human and economic cost. No city becomes an international financial centre without being culturally open and welcoming. Priorities such as the state government has recently displayed are anti-progress and anti-Mumbai.