The curse of the brazen, shameless Indian politician

By M H Ahssan

The brazenness of politicians can often be amazing. A thick skin is a pre-requisite to be a successful politician, but you need that something extra, a brashness and audacity that mere mortals can never have, to shine. Along with that should be a firm belief that the citizenry,the aam janata is credulous and easily fooled.

Consider Kalyan Singh, a man who has made a career out of flip-flops. When Singh was UP chief minister, he couldn't stop the Babri Masjid from being demolished. The Liberhan report had named him as one of the many conspirators, pointing out how he systematically put his own men in the bureaucracy to ensure that the plan went ahead smoothly. The police was told not to fire at the mobs. All in all, a shameful performance for the head of a state. But in the face of the commission's report's charges what does Singh do? Far from being embarrassed he proudly proclaims he has no regrets for that day of "national pride".

Or take the BJP, the party in search of an identity. All its energies are going into trying to rubbish the report on flimsy grounds. The report was leaked to the media before it was placed in Parliament is one such criticism. So what? Parliamentary privilege cannot stop the press from doing its job. The more important questions are -- does the party have anything concrete to say? Does it plan one more famous "chintan baithak", more baithak and less chintan? And more importantly is the BJP -- or the Sangh Parivar -- ready to say sorry? Sorry not only to Muslims or those whose kin died in all the mayhem that followed, but sorry to the nation for foisting a divisive agenda on it whose repercussions are felt even today.

The report has its flaws. Giving Narasimha Rao a clean chit is definitely one of them. And it has taken way too long to come out. That is regrettably the way of the Indian justice system; all those who are part of it know how to manipulate it. The principles of natural justice are adversely affected because of such delays; witnesses die, memories fade and the perpetrators of the crimes occasionally go scot free. In any case, such commissions they do not have punitive powers, can't even recommend action. That is up to the government. At best, they remind us of what happened.

But what about the moral dimension? Shouldn't those who were in positions of power, had the ability to control events but failed bear some responsibility? Public contrition is not part of the Indian tradition, certainly not for its public servants. The elite never feels the need to say sorry to the hoi polloi, but what about a diplomatic way to express regret? Instead we get Kalyan Singh's posturing.

We all saw similar insensitivity on the part of our politicians during the commemoration of 26/11 in Mumbai last week. Cutting across the political divide, they behaved as though it was business as usual. VIPs came and disturbed everyone during the solemn function at Gateway of India, fought in Parliament, raised slogans on Mumbai's streets and generally made a mockery of the whole thing. At Marine Drive on early Thursday morning I saw members of the public being kept away from the flag march by the police, when this was a perfect opoportunity to involve citizens as partners. Sorry, only for VIPs and invitees. The public is an embarrassment, it only comes in the way. Behind all this is contempt for the populace, especially when it asks questions. Left to themselves, the politicians would like to dissolve the people and elect one another.

The public however is not foolish. It knows and remembers. The photograph of a exulting Uma Bharati hugging a grinning Murli Manohar Joshi, the Congress workers who came and set fire to Sikh homes, the rape and murder of pregnant women in Ahmedabad and yes, even the "pehli aag kisne lagayi" statements of the super-moderate Atal Bihari Vajpayee at the Goa meeting of the BJP immediately after the Gujarat pogrom. Indians don't need commissions to tell them what they saw or experienced; they know.

After nearly five decades of apartheid and many more of institutionalised racism, South Africa dealt with its sordid past through the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Victims and perpetrators alike came on the stand and spoke with their hearts about the brutalities they had endured and foisted. It was a cathartic experience for society that would not have happened had the leadership of the new South Africa not realised that the mood of the moment was not revenge but emotional closure. Something like that in India would be ideal, but will never happen. Can you see a Kalyan Singh taking the stand to confess administrative lapses? If anything, he will use Liberhan's strictures to rebuild his career; more notoriety, more votes, especially from the hardliners. Brazenness has its rewards as many a politician has found out. Is it any wonder they think the public is foolish?