Rescuing the First BJP PM

ONE OF THE MOST redeeming features of the New India that many of us feel and experience is the spurt in the publishing industry. In the past, and not that long ago, books written by Indians and published domesti­cally were pitifully few. The lifting of Emergency in 1977 saw a spurt in books by politicians, activists and journalists recounting the dark days and the at­tempted throttling of democracy. Earlier, the Bangladesh war of 1971 had seen some militarymen and others write their memoirs. But despite these event-centric bursts, Indian publishing was still in its infancy—at least as far as English language books were concerned.

It’s very different now. The bookshops at airports are always a good guide to the reading habits of the middle classes. Predictably, they stock a great deal of self-help books and pop management manuals, not to mention the international bestsellers. At the same time, whether in fiction, history or biography, there is a generous selection of books by Indians on subjects that will interest Indians only. The airport bookshops tend to be rather snooty in their selection of books for sale. They invariably leave out the smaller publishers from regional centres whose production quality tends to be a little suspect. If these were added, the quantum of English-language books published in India would tend to be very large.

The reason why I am writing about Indian publishing is the spurt in the publication of books on post-Independence India. It is undeniable that the volume of scholarship on contemporary India is far greater today than at any time in the past. To some extent, this is also due to the efforts of publishers who are now courting writers and even paying them advances for books that have a potential market. Additionally, the spurt in Lit Fests has helped popularise books immeasurably.

Earlier in June, I—along with my classmate from St Stephen’s—participated in a discussion on a new political biography, Vajpayee: The Ascent of the Hindu Right, 1924-1977, by Abhishek Choudhary. The book came with an overdose of testimonials from scholars and writers, almost all of whom were noted for their visceral opposition to the saffron ecosystem. This aroused my curiosity. Why were such people enthused by a book that dealt with the early years of the Jana Sangh, a time when the so-called Hindu Right was a fringe player in national politics?

The reason, it was apparent, had little to do with the Jana Sangh per se, but everything to do with how Atal Bihari Vajpayee—the first prime minister who came from an entirely non-Congress background—is perceived in the age of Narendra Modi.

Vajpayee was a childhood hero of mine. I used to read about his parliamentary interventions from the reports in The Statesman. Those tended to be sanitised reports, especially in the period of 1967 to 1971, when there was an almighty tussle between Indira Gandhi and her opponents for the soul of India. However, these reports successfully conveyed the distinctiveness of the Jana Sangh, a party which I viewed from a distance since it was virtually non-existent in Calcutta. And the face of that distinctiveness was unquestionably Vajpayee. He was the Hindu Right.

Vajpayee was the foremost face of the Sangh Parivar. There were others who were interesting. These included Balraj Madhok, ML Sondhi and Subramanian Swamy. But they were always the supporting cast. It was Vajpayee the orator, Vajpayee the indefatigable campaigner and Vajpayee the “agli bari Pradhan Mantri” who was relevant. Yet, by the time Vajpayee made the transition to the “PM-in-waiting” and, finally, the prime minister in the 1990s, he had been recast as the “right man in the wrong party”. This was the handiwork of disoriented liberals and disenchanted Congressmen who were orphaned by the disarray in Congress and the Left.

Vajpayee pandered to this gallery by his legendary ambivalence and his quarrels with over-intrusive functionaries of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh. But he had a fierce sense of corporate loyalty to a party and movement that had made him what he was. Most important, he was attached to the saffron cause on the strength of some deeply held convictions, some of which found expression in his poetry. Vajpayee was a consummate politician who knew the importance of striking alliances and being flexible. But this didn’t mean he was made of plasticine and was simply a professional politician defined by pragmatism. There were core beliefs in Vajpayee that found expression in the campaigns of his early years.

Abhishek Choudhary has excavated some of those campaigns from forgotten archives. He has been a little more nig­gardly in tapping the memories of those who were with Vajpayee in those early battles—most, alas, have now died. But he has succeeded in rescuing the first BJP prime minister from the unwarranted appropriation of those who just want to hate Modi.

About The Author

Swapan Dasgupta

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