Politics of hate and entitlement: Jealous colonial cousins?

 Shantanu Thakur

Two themes of vitriolic fulmination in the country’s political discourse ever since the then somewhat unexpected dark horse called Narendra Damodardas Modi galloped into the corridors of power at New Delhi in 2014 have been the almost never-ending polarisation between the elitist power-brokers of the privileged camp (often branded as the Lutyen’s Club, or Khan Market Gang) and those perceived to belong to the less anglicised, less glamorised camp of the average aspiring Bharatiya commoner type. The former is also referred to as the inheritors of the India legacy, while the latter are sometimes termed the progeny of an India that is Bharat. Never before was this India-Bharat divide so palpably at odds with each other as of now. So much so that even the tallest leaders of the country have been denigrated in unseemly debates over which of these two camps is more deserving than the other of appropriating the flag of true nationalism as their exclusive pride. In hindsight, however, both of these two camps seem to be by-products of the same system—the continuous years of colonial domination our country had to pass through, the aftereffects of which never seem to die out.

Despite his English-schooling background, Nehru, however, cannot be simply labelled as elitist. He was definitely at home with the Mountbattens and the creamy layer of the Raj, but he was also simultaneously well-grounded and connected to roots. Even in his attire, Nehru was the first PM sartorially Indian in looks. As substantial a tome as the ‘Discovery of India’ was not just a superficially pulled-off off-the-cuff gimmick. Nehru was a scholar in his own right. As the son of a well-to-do lawyer also sincerely drawn into the freedom struggle, he was a product of his times, with a world view not limited to India alone. The pan-Indian ethos that Gandhiji stoked had an impact on both Motilal Nehru and his son. The khaddar-clad Mahatma, after all, was also a barister who could comfortably stride the two poles with equal ease. Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore (who also conferred the title of “Mahatma” on Gandhiji) was a true Indian and a world-citizen at the same time, unbound by narrow, fragmented domestic walls. These thinkers moulded the contemporary discourse in the country then, and the younger set of leaders inspired by them (not Nehru alone) imbibed similar outlooks. As we see it today, the first generation of our freedom fighters hardly believed in any elitist Indian identity; they were as much Bharatiyas as anybody else. Well into the years of his long Prime Ministership, Nehru was not seen as overtly grooming his daughter for dynastic succession; if he did at all harbour such designs, it could have been known only to the insiders. Indira Gandhi rose up the ladder after her father’s death, and a clear game plan for succession wasn’t visible. Ambitions of dynastic concepts of takeover of inherited power had not raised their heads yet. Shahinshah, Shehzada, and Shehzadi’s ideas of identity were not prime movers then.

The entitlement class of limpets in independent India (a term Rajiv Gandhi himself used in the famous Bombay session of the AICC) seems to have sprouted after Nehru and his peers. More so during the tenure of Indira Gandhi, after the flourishing of the likes of Sanjay Gandhi and his hangers on. Nehru, reportedly, found it difficult to stand sycophants around him; to be close to him also meant to be able to match his sensibilities and acumen. Not so with his daughter and his infamous grandson. Public memory is notoriously short, but it should not be very difficult to recall the culture of extra-constitutional privileges that the coterie and the kitchen cabinet of that time cultivated and thrived on, especially during the Emergency. Despite ups and downs, this class of sycophants prospered till the last days of the Congress regime. The astonishing instance of an MP of the ruling party publicly tearing up an ordinance passed by the Cabinet wipes out the need to cite any other hangover syndrome of arrogance that can arise from perceived conceits of dynastic entitlement. They also had a ready band of fawning sycophants to surround and cradle them in a false comfort zone.

It was the entry of Modi into the corridors of power in New Delhi that suddenly upset the apple cart. He could in no way be identified with an anglicised, uppity, windblown culture. Yet he exuded confidence that found favour outside India as well. One need not be at one with his agenda and policies, but that he ushered in a desi climate change in the mind-set of the Dilli dispensation should be visible to anybody not wilfully closing their eyelids. The Bharat that was India, which had so far had to remain content in the shadows, now walked up the ramp to an applauding international audience, unaffected by the chaiwala jibes that still emanated from the green rooms of the stiff upper lip elitist groups. VS Naipaul, in his book “India: A Million Mutinies Now,” highlighted the several issues of identity and respect that had for years been swept under the carpet and inevitably would come out someday. In a way, with the coming of Modi, a hitherto dormant, unseen segment of India wrested its share of the sun in the dominant power block. That, by itself, was good news for many in the country. Whether what he symbolised has stayed the course in the ten years that followed or whether his policies have benefitted the nation and its populace at large are issues open to debate, but that he did succeed in altering the prevailing image of the country both within and outside is something that has registered itself.

This piece is not a praise anthem for the BJP government led by Modi, nor is it an attempt to bury him. As has been correctly said, people get the government they deserve; conversely, perhaps it could also be said that, in a democracy, people sometimes also get the leaders they don’t deserve. This write-up simply tries to gauge the deep divides in the psyche of the country—a virus planted by the colonial masters that continues to play havoc in our thought processes. Yet either of the warring camps need not necessarily be so hard-boiled not to be amenable to a change of hearts. Temperaments are formed by conditionings, and sensitive social engineering can undo conditionings as well. It’s not easy for someone at the receiving end of prejudice for years together to wipe out in an instant the deep psychological ravages of injustice, especially when there are constant humiliating reminders from the other side of the bruises or the wounds of discrimination. Winston Churchill, at the time of India’s independence, had infamously slighted our self-respect by referring to our leaders as India’s “men of straw.” Issues of identity and respect continue to dog us even today. As long as the average, marginalised sections of Indian society are made to wallow in these defeatist conflicts, the polity will continue to be distracted from vital issues of growth, development, and the building of an egalitarian framework of existence. Colonial prejudices and all the ills that they carry need immediate burial. The nation has to unshackle itself from colonial, self-deprecating complexes, and the maximum responsibility for this lies with our leaders.