Politics of Appearance

THE CLOUDS ARE dark and laden but floating off to rain somewhere else. They are in no hurry. The breeze has eased from brisk to benevolent. Nature has a schedule, but not a timetable. My part of Goa is at the lingering end of the first prolonged spell of monsoon, the rain fluctuating from rhythm hard to intermittent patter and pause, and then with a sudden waft of energy rising to a drumbeat. Rain is green joy. There is little comparable to a mass of silvery slanting lines descending thousands of feet into a rejuvenated universe of grass, river and soil. Those of us with a chance to spend some part of our lives in India’s Emerald Corner feel blessed.

PART OF THE enchantment is the physical and psychological distance from the gravitational pull of national politics. You leave its compulsions at Goa airport. Junkies like us have no such luck, but distance does lend a more nuanced perspective. You tend to notice developments rather than react to events. You muse, and sometimes it is the source of gentle amusement. In 2014 Narendra Modi became prime minister by identifying himself with a tea stall. A decade later the principal challenge is from Rahul Gandhi, who identifies with a T-shirt. The 53-year-old scion is not alone in such sartorial preference; 45-year-old Volodymyr Zelensky wants to win a war in a T-shirt pretending to be military fatigues. But I cannot think of a third example. Perhaps the T-shirt is the uniform of Peter Pan, the dress code of permanent youth. The spirit of youth, alas, can tempt a Peter Pan into occasional brash entitlement. Zelensky was recently snubbed by British Defence Secretary Ben Wallace in a devastating putdown that will enter quotation books. When Zelensky presented him with yet another insouciant list of free weapons, Wallace pointed out that Britain was not Amazon, ready with limitless off-the-shelf supplies. For good measure, Wallace told Zelensky that he needed to show more gratitude for what he had received instead of petulantly asking for more. The pent-up irritation found echoes in other chancelleries. America, Britain and Germany have obliged every demand; they have also watched Ukraine go through free weapons at a burn rate more conducive to a fireworks festival rather than a serious, deadly conflict. Wallace’s message has found its mark.

AND NOW TO the spirit of old age. For the first time in a unique career someone has done a Sharad Pawar on Sharad Pawar. It could have been only done by a pupil.

The master has redefined realpolitik in Indian democracy with a commanding presence across six decades of public life. Such is Sharad Pawar’s reputation that at every twist and curve of a sinuous narrative during the recent turmoil and rebellion a whisper would go out that no matter what the tune we heard Pawar was still conductor of the orchestra. The music stopped when Ajit Pawar and Praful Patel led the majority of the party’s MLAs into the BJP-dominant Maharashtra government. Praful Patel spiked any political piety with a pre-emptive riposte: Papa, don’t preach. Sharad Pawar could hardly criticise his protégés for an alliance with BJP when he had formed a government in partnership with the Shiv Sena. For good measure, Praful added the obvious, that a host of opposition leaders gathered at the unity conclave in Patna had at one time or another been allies of BJP. Not least of them was the sainted leader of the incipient partnership, Nitish Kumar. If ideological lassitude was permissible then, why not now?

Ajit Pawar asked his uncle what might be aptly described as an age-old question with all the boiling resentment of a man condemned to a plastic chair in the waiting lounge of life: “…but you are 83, aren’t you going to stop?” Piquantly he sought the elder Pawar’s blessings. As quid pro quo he promised prayers for Sharad Pawar’s long life.

From the centrestage of a domestic fortress, Supriya Sule, the designated heir in a family feud over inheritance, waved her forefinger and set out a stall of patriarchs. Ratan Tata was 85, Cyrus Poonawalla of Serum Institute was 82, Amitabh Bachchan of Indian cinema was 80. Her father remained a warrior even in his eighties. It did not occur to her that billionaire industrialists and filmstars might not be the preferred icons in the rather different environment of rural Maharashtra electoral politics. However, to the more interesting question: Is Sharad Pawar still undisputed leader of NCP? If so, why the drama of succession?

The astute among Sharad Pawar’s admirers have a different question: Why did he announce a transfer of power now when he could have waited till after the 2024 elections? He could have kept the party united, used the excellent management skills of Ajit Pawar, Praful Patel and Chhagan Bhujbal in the next General Election, and then dumped them in favour of his daughter. Blood prevailed over political judgment. That’s slippage.

NOT ENOUGH ATTENTION has been paid to the mathematics of this month’s opposition conclave in Patna. All the binoculars were focused on the chemistry, which was tepid. The structural flaw in the construction of opposition unity is best summed up by an equation: One plus None equals One.

The whole purpose of an alliance is to add the votes of different sets of supporters. But in order to supplement a partner’s vote base you have to have votes of your own. That’s where the cookie crumbles. The redoubtable Mamata Banerjee can sit on the podium but she has no votes to offer to anyone in Bihar or Uttar Pradesh or Madhya Pradesh or indeed anywhere else. Conversely, Congress can do little for her in Bengal, as she has pointed out more than once. In fact, the only party that can conceivably help her is CPM, which is crawling back into play. But the Marxists are not going to commit suicide by making a deal with their inveterate foe.

This is true of most states. Congress will win or lose alone in Chhattisgarh, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan. The Left has to defeat Congress in Kerala to protect its government, so all the photo opportunities elsewhere have no particular value. One could go on but that would be a waste of space. The pattern is evident. Ironically the only state in which an alliance could have delivered was Maharashtra, and look how that got messed up by family politics.

One is consistently reminded of Saint Teresa of Avila who famously said: “There are more tears shed over answered prayers than over unanswered prayers.”

WHICH NATIONS DELIVER a lecture a week from the pious lectern of human rights? America, Britain, France, Germany, and members of the European Union, of course. How did they vote on a resolution at the Human Rights Council of the United Nations condemning the burning of the Quran by some deranged person in Sweden?

Against the resolution.

Support came from India, China, Bangladesh, Maldives, Pakistan, Vietnam, Cuba, and Central Asian and African countries on the council. The resolution passed by 28 votes to 12. Nine countries, including Russia and Nepal, abstained. Kuwait has announced that it is printing 100,000 copies of the Muslim holy book in Swedish for free distribution.

Why comment when facts talk?

Indian politicsMaharashtraRahul GandhiSharad PawarVolodymyr Zelensky