It must be something in the air of Bengal. The politics of Calcutta is driven by processions and slogans, and Mamata Banerjee won her spurs with some outstanding heroics during tricolor processions. A procession is irrelevant without a slogan, and a slogan is ipso facto a demand. Is this why Mamata Banerjee is such a demanding politician?
She is indistinguishable from demands. She demanded the status of a viceroy for Bengal affairs from Rajiv Gandhi, which, understandably, he was a trifle reluctant to give. P.V. Narasimha Rao was more pungent; and Mamata Banerjee declared independence from the Congress. It is easy to declare independence. It is difficult to know what to do with it. Mamata Banerjee did not. She returned to dependence, but chose the BJP to depend on. That relationship proved less salutary than she expected. She rediscovered the Congress. She dreamt of triumph and wound up with sackcloth and ashes. She is now back with the BJP, sort of. But in none of her avatars, or during her transmutation phases, has she ever stopped demanding something or the other. She demanded the railway ministry from Atal Behari Vajpayee. She got it, in the good old days. Then she demanded it right back in the bad old days, when she wanted to return to NDA, as if it was hers for the asking.
When she runs out of serious demands, she is not above making a few mulish ones. On the eve of her scheduled reinduction into the Cabinet on May 24 she demanded the head of one of her own MPs, no less than her party whip in Parliament, Sudip Bandopadhyay. She wanted a written commitment that he would not be made a minister.
You might wonder why such a problem cannot be resolved through a private phone call. Politicians, after all, do speak to each other in private. Deals are not made over the megaphone. But privacy has no place in a demand culture. A request can be private, but everyone must hear a demand, or it has not been made. A request is part of negotiations. A demand is always laced with the hint of blackmail. It is an exercise in muscle-politics. Yesterday Mamata Banerjee canceled her appointment with a Cabinet berth when she did not receive satisfaction. That was her display of muscle.
The storm may have filled up yet another political teacup, but that was the size of it. Muscle politics has its virtues, but there is a necessary ingredient: You must have muscle. At the moment Mamata Banerjee’s muscles are aching from the pounding she has received from the Marxists. Mamata Banerjee also suffers from a series of injuries that are self-inflicted. She is both the perpetrator and the victim of personalized, egocentric leadership. There is therefore only a nominal organizational structure in her party, the Trinamool Congress. It is a pyramid of individuals, each one a Mamata clone in his pocket borough, running his local parish in precisely the manner in which she runs the whole party. She can win in a wave, but gets beached without a surge.
The Marxist organization, protected by a well-honed and disciplined cadre, is boringly efficient at decimating personalized parties, and did so again in the recent panchayat elections. Mamata Banerjee trailed to third position, although the difference between third and second (Congress) was minimal, and the gap between the Marxists and Congress was huge. It did not much matter who came second or third; they were so far behind they might have been invisible.
Why does the BJP need a marginalized Mamata as a partner? The answer lies not in Bengal but in Delhi. In Bengal the BJP is a non-starter, and has stitched its napkin to Mamata’s sari so that together they might span a bit more space than the Congress. But as Vajpayee and L.K. Advani move into the final weave of the tapestry before the next general elections, they know that they need to offer the electorate a national platform.
Bengal has to be represented, and Mamata Banerjee offers a foothold, however tenuous it might be. But Mamata needs the BJP equally, for alone she is not strong enough to win anything. That is why the BJP can afford to be cool toward her blasts of hot air. Nothing might be gained, but little is lost either. The Marxists of Bengal can lick their lips peacefully, waiting for the next jug of cream that will come their way as surely as the last one.
While the algebra of the next elections has proved beneficial to Mamata, with or without her eccentricities, it has proved detrimental to the interests of another marginal player, Ajit Singh. He has protected his minor fortress in western Uttar Pradesh through freewheeling alliances defined purely by the amorality of personal interest. His luck has held in part because of a splendid inheritance: His father, Charan Singh, was a big hero to the Jats of western Uttar Pradesh. But it has been obvious that the BJP cannot ally with both Mayawati’s Dalits and Ajit Singh’s Jats.
Hostility between the two castes is endemic, and Jats indulge in atrocities against impoverished Dalits even during Mayawati’s dispensation. Social contradictions become sharpest during an election. Wherever and whenever they could, Jats have simply stolen Dalit votes through intimidation. Charan Singh would smile in a superior sort of way when informed of such incidents, endearing him further to the Jat heart.
The BJP has invested too heavily in an electoral alliance with Mayawati’s Bahujan Samaj Party. The BJP surrendered its own space in Lucknow to ensure that it could keep control over its space in Delhi. It was a hard decision, that caused substantial heartburn in the party. But once taken, it stood. There are more than enough social contradictions between the BJP’s social base and the Dalits too, but if they manage to unite on polling day their combination could be very effective. Ajit Singh had to be shown the door.
Charan Singh’s heir will now look for other friends, but his bargaining position is compromised by his reputation. He has sold his soul so often that it has passed its most generous sell-by date.
The most important story of the Saturday reshuffle is about the dog who, as in the Sherlock Holmes tale, did not bark. Those who have watched the prime minister’s maneuvers know that he prefers a slow dance and leaves exotic jiggling to others. Sometimes his moves are so slow they seem like an imperceptible shuffle rather than a step in any direction. But step by slow step he is shifting the balance in Tamil Nadu, another state where the BJP has only a technical presence. Age, and bitter succession wars that now possibly include murder have debilitated the BJP’s ally, the DMK. Karunanidhi looks like yesterday’s man; and his bravely named son, Stalin, looks like he has no future. The DMK, once an institution, has become personalized, burdened with all the handicaps and devoid of the energy and purpose that were once its visible strengths. It is consumptive and faction-ridden.
The BJP has been ogling Jayalalitha for some time now, and she has ogled right back. She has sent enough signals to indicate that her distrust for Sonia Gandhi is matched by her faith in the BJP’s social agenda (the BJP applauded her ban on conversions). With so much flirtation going on, it is only a matter of time before a political consummation takes place. The DMK joined the BJP-led alliance only when Jayalalitha walked out; now that Jaya is ready to walk in, the DMK is being edged out. With, it must be added, minimum discourtesy — so far. But when push comes to shove, the DMK will be shoved off.
Since every shuffle is also meant to move a bigger agenda forward, what does this one indicate?
These alterations in the Cabinet have nothing to do with the coming assembly elections. That exercise got over when Vasundhara Raje Scindia and Uma Bharti were dropped from government so that they could lead the party campaigns in Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh. The stage is being set for the general elections.
This does not mean that the prime minister has decided to bring the date of the next general elections forward; it only means that he is keeping all his options open. He does not want to be caught unprepared if he sees an opportunity open up toward the end of this year, or perhaps the beginning of the next.
If there is genuine progress, however slow, in the pace of peace with Pakistan, the healing of the Kashmir wound could make a substantive election issue. But all your key allies must be in place before you begin to dart toward a possible checkmate.
Who’s been teaching the prime minister chess?
Arab News Opinion 25 May 2003
