Author: Ashok Malik
Publication: The Indian Express
Date: October 27, 2004
URL: http://www.indianexpress.com/full_story.php?content_id=57724
It is a biting coincidence. L.K.
Advani has resumed charge as BJP president in the same fortnight as Mughal-e-Aazam,
the black-and-white classic, is being re-released in colour. There must
be a message there.
Even if one were to discount competing
''coup'' theories - the VHP accuses Advani of pre-empting the Sangh's ''decisive''
November 3-8 meeting in Hardwar; Murli Manohar Joshi groupies insist he
was the Sangh's chosen one; everybody else denies this - the crisis in
India's former ruling party is undeniable.
Above all else, Advani must contemplate
a basic question: can he become part of the solution, without first acknowledging
he is part of the problem? This leads to a more direct query: why has the
BJP's core constituency, loyal for a lifetime, walked away? ''Why do they
hate us?'' the BJP may ask.
It is a facile assessment that the
BJP's core vote consists entirely of hardnut Hindus who advocate permanent
civil war. This is untrue and unfair. The BJP's accretion through the 1990s
was thanks to a critical mix of identity issues, security concerns, opposition
to big government and disgust with the unwholesome aspects of Congress
raj. Ayodhya was only one parameter.
Today, almost every segment feels
cheated. There is a sense of social and political alienation. The party
and its people speak two languages.
There is a perception that BJP ministers
spent their days cultivating Delhi's Page 3 bubble, saying things only
to please committed non-BJP voters and, in short, cutting access to feedback
from genuine party sympathisers.
Take the BJP's plethora of ministers
from Bihar. Even after losing office, they are fringe fixtures on the capital's
party circuit, television studio regulars, addressing seminars on how good
the NDA government was, setting up legal practice in Delhi, rarely bothering
with Patna.
In contrast, Laloo Yadav, railway
minister in the UPA government, spends half the month in Bihar. Is it any
surprise that Laloo's RJD is favoured to win the 2005 assembly election?
Social climbing may be a wonderful
virtue. It doesn't win you electoral constituencies.
Like the Bihar brigade, Advani himself
was not immune to hearing his own voice, unmindful of what message he was
sending party adherents. Five years ago, Advani told BBC that ideology
was all very well, but governance was based on idealism. This divorce of
ideology from governance was astonishing. From Ronald Reagan to the CPI(M),
the politically resolute have seen no such distinction.
Did Advani mean ideology was not
a static but had to evolve with new realities, changing politics? He never
clarified.
There was more. One year ago, Praveen
Togadia announced India should be declared a ''Hindu nation''. The polite
response would have been: ''With a 82 per cent Hindu population, isn't
this clear? What do you want? A parliamentary resolution?'' Instead, Advani
went about declaring ''India would never be a Hindu state''. Togadia responded
that he hadn't sought a Hindu state. The debate proceeded at cross-purposes,
as usually happens when all communication is through the media.
It's revealing that while Congress
ministers are comfortable providing photo-ops with Naxalites, BJP ministers
studiously avoided similar interaction with the VHP. No wonder, when Advani
dialled his number earlier this month, Ashok Singhal refused to take the
call.
Perhaps Advani's ideological confusion
is a function of - and how does one put this politely? - age. He defines
the progress of Hindutva by his personal experience. He decides when ideology
begins and when it ends. He decides what issues exercise Hindu politics
and what don't.
In the meantime a new generation
has grown up.
An example would help again. Advani's
Hindu nationalism matured with the 1991 election. That was the defining
moment for him. Years of emotion found an outlet, an article of faith found
political articulation.
Now take the Gujarat election of
2002, one Advani had little stomach for, probably saw as an anachronism.
To a successor generation, 2002 was the defining moment for Hindu nationalism,
when years of emotion found an outlet... History keeps moving, inexorably.
It's fine for Advani to conclude
that identity politics is over and bijli-sadak-pani is the way ahead. Do
the twenty and thirtysomethings, the footsoldiers of Hindutva, feel the
same way? Should Bheesma perennially tell Abhimanyu how to think?
