New Delhi: I suppose the photograph would have passed off as ordinary: two politicians greeting each other with wide grins and clasped hands — the usual bonhomie associated with the political class. What was surprising was the identity of the duo; one was Salman Khurshid, the other Ravi Shankar Prasad. Mr Khurshid and Mr Prasad, the terriers of the Congress and the Bharatiya Janata Party, normally seen and heard snapping at each other in the most aggressive way, now sharing an exceedingly friendly space?
Their meeting took place on neutral territory, the release of an anthology by the editor of a national newspaper. Senior journalists are always courted by politicians; at election time, the courtship becomes more intense, so it’s not surprising that public figures of different hues and party affiliations, responded to the invitation to the journalist’s book launch.
But sworn enemies in a friendly hug? Was this surface politeness, a brief papering over of differences given the occasion, a species of hypocrisy? Or did it mean that politicians’ jibes, now increasingly personal, are considered par for the course, a form of sparring without intent? Therefore to be ignored?
It has to be. Just think of what has been said recently on the campaign trail. Mamata Banerjee called Narendra Modi a shaitan. Her party spokesman said, “Every time Mr Modi raises his arms, you see there’s blood on his hands, the blood of innocent children.”
Mr Modi has attacked Ms Banerjee for selling her paintings for crores. There’s Mayawati versus Mr Modi, the Gandhis versus Mr Modi, Nitish Kumar versus Mr Modi, Farooq Abdullah versus Mr Modi and Mr Modi versus everyone else. Much of what each one has said has gone way beyond election rhetoric into the realm of personal abuse of the most wretched kind. A corporate friend rang me in some distress this morning. “What’s all this?” he asked, “Where are the issues being debated?” The issues stopped being debated a long time ago.
Most people, including political observers who have followed them over many years, say that this has been the most vicious of elections, with every speech running on hate of a particularly nasty personal kind. Would it be too predictable to say that this was to be expected ever since Mr Modi set the tone and pace for everyone’s campaign?
He chose where to go, and he went everywhere; he chose what to say, and he attacked everyone, everywhere. Others only followed, trying desperately to catch up with the frenetic pace he set. Most people had said that Mr Modi was the most divisive senior leader in Indian politics ever, but he surprised everyone — including his supporters — by the speed and energy that he has displayed on the campaign trail.
You look at the Salman Khurshid-Ravi Shankar Prasad photograph again and ask yourself: Is this how it’s going to pan out after the elections are over and the results are out? Will implacable foes become bosom buddies? It’s a relevant question to ask because Mr Modi’s trail of abuse has hit almost everyone who is a potential National Democratic Alliance partner.
Perhaps encouraged by the huge turnouts for his speeches and the eager frenzy of the crowds, he has become arrogant enough to believe that he (meaning the BJP, which now always takes second place to Mr Modi) will win enough seats on his own to form the government without the need for allies.
But suppose the arithmetic doesn’t work out, and the BJP gets 210 seats and not 272 plus, then what happens? Will personal abuse be so quickly forgiven, and then forgotten? For that to happen, Mr Modi will have to eat something resembling humble pie. Is the man with the 56-inch chest the type who would relish such a dish?
For the sake of our country, I hope this eventuality does come about. I say this because the liberal commentators who are looking at the Modi as Prime Minister scenario are working on two assumptions.
First, that a leopard can change its spots. Perhaps not change, but camouflage them. (Here there is a missing photograph — but an obscure newspaper report in one of our newspapers conjures up a vivid picture. A young Mr Modi riding pillion on a two-wheeler being driven by a young Praveen Togadia.
The two were the best of friends, two young and earnest recruits to the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, both out to prove their pure Hindutva credentials). This particular leopard would camouflage his spots under the compulsion of numbers: well short of the magic 272, he would need allies, and the allies would demand an ideological shift from the right to the centre, a softening of hardline strategy, particularly with regard to the RSS’ rigid Hindutva stand.
The second assumption is that even if Mr Modi gets the BJP to that magic number on its own, India’s democratic institutions are strong enough to withstand one man’s dictatorial impulses.
The foremost of these is the Lok Sabha itself, which has shown, notably in the last five years, that it can stall any government initiative or bill by the simple expedient of unruly and unparliamentary behaviour. So, the argument goes, a Modi government trying to ram through “undesirable” legislation will be tripped at the very first obstacle. However, this argument overlooks the ordinance route a frustrated government can take.
Other democratic institutions which will stand in the way of the Big D, it is claimed, are the Supreme Court, the Election Commission and Comptroller and Auditor-General. But we know from history that these institutions are only as strong as the person heading them. Indira Gandhi made a mockery of a strong Supreme Court, and years later when T.N. Seshan became autocratic as the Chief Election Commissioner, the government reduced the CEC’s powers by installing two election commissioners to work with him.
So, at least for me, the hope that our institutions can thwart a would-be dictator is based on too much optimism.
We, therefore, come to the sad conclusion that our chances of continuing as a vibrant, secular democracy rest on a government formed with insufficient numbers, so that it becomes yet another coalition one. For a strong democracy, in short, we need a weak government.
The writer is a senior journalist
