ONE WITH THE MASSES IN WEST BENGAL
and/or www.mantra.com/jai
By Kanchan Gupta
Agenda
The Pioneer
Sunday, May 22, 2011
What's aam admi in Hindi, or strictly speaking Hindustani, is
sadharan manush in Bangla -- someone who belongs to the masses (as
opposed to the nose-in-the-air classes whose preference for toilet
paper reminds me of the popular BBC sitcom Keeping Up Appearances).
In English we would refer to the aam admi or the sadharan manush as
the the 'common man' or the 'common people', those who toil for their
daily bread. The word 'commoner' would be considered disdainful, even
pejorative, once upon a time, but no more. Such finer nuances have
long been discarded for in-your-face dumbing down of what used to be
a language sensitive to the smallest of abuse. So, a person who
belongs to the masses, or would like to be seen as one among the
masses, refers to himself (or herself, for that matter) as a
'commoner'.
The day the West Bengal Assembly election results were announced, a
triumphant Mamata Banerjee was asked by a reporter of one of the many
news channels that now crowd the airwaves (only television
journalists can come up with such asinine questions) whether she felt
any different after defeating the Left Front and decimating the
CPI(M). What the reporter meant to ask was whether Ms Banerjee felt
any differently now that she had been chosen by the people to head
the next Government. Didi, as the Trinamool Congress leader is
affectionately referred to by both old and young, men and women,
answered without batting an eyelid: "I was and I remain a common
man."
There was much mirth and laughter where I was standing with some
other itinerant journalists as the public address system amplified
her words. Flush with excitement over her stunning victory (she was
tipped to win the election, but it had turned out to be a clean
sweep) Ms Banerjee had said in English what she meant in Bangla: "Ami
ek jon sadharan manush chhilaam, tai thakbo." But that didn't stop my
friend from quipping, "She is so right. Like Mrs Indira Gandhi, she
too will be the only man in her Cabinet." In a sense, he was right:
Even her closest aides and confidants turn into bowls of quivering
jelly in her presence.
That, by itself, is nothing unique. In our socio-cultural milieu,
it's tough for a woman, no matter of how much substance she may be,
to make her mark and hold on to it. Ms Sonia Gandhi has an advantage
over other women in politics: Her position is guaranteed and nobody
would ever dare challenge her leadership. So she can afford to be
snootily imperious while pretending to be charmingly disarming, as
she was the night India won the Cricket World Cup. But others can't.
Ms J Jayalalithaa has to be rudely assertive to keep her followers in
line; Ms Mayawati loves to be called 'Behenji' but I can't quite
imagine her being, leave alone feeling, sisterly towards anybody. Ms
Vasundhara Raje's ability to reach out to the hoi polloi is
remarkable but the hoi polloi dare not reach out to her. And, in the
rough-and-tough terrain of Bengal politics, Ms Banerjee can't afford
to be seen as being soft, never mind her treacly slogan of "Ma, Mati,
Manush" which has contributed in no small measure to her amazing
success. In any event, West Bengal can do without a limpid wimp as
Chief Minister who allowed himself to be overwhelmed by his party and
bullied by his colleagues rather than straddling the party and
bullying his colleagues as he should have done.
Which brings me to the final scene of the first act of the dramatic
fall of the Left in its bastion; the second act begins now: Will Ms
Banerjee be able to sustain the outpouring of goodwill towards her?
Will she be able to bring about a tectonic shift in the manner in
which West Bengal has been governed (for want of a better word, this
will have to suffice) for 34 years? Will she be able to demonstrate
that ideology need not impinge on governance; or that good governance
can be ideology neutral? As for the Left, especially the CPI(M), will
it now wallow in self-pity and squander time on hand-wringing or will
it finally realise that it needs to reinvent itself by discarding
dogma and embracing a charter in tune with the aspirations and
concerns of modern India? Will Mr Prakash Karat continue to remain
the high priest of Stalinist duplicity or will he be kicked out (as
he should be, along with his JNU gang of libtards) and replaced by a
person who is not hounded by scary visions of imperialist
conspiracies, or will he, limpet-like, stick on to the general
secretary's post, deaf to criticism within the ranks and blind to the
writing on the wall?
But we digress. Let's get back to Friday, May 20, when Ms Banerjee
took oath of office in a ceremony that became, or was destined to
become, a public celebration of 'freedom' from a politically bankrupt
Left. My editor Chandan Mitra calls it the "Aaj phir se jeeney ki
tamanna hai" moment. Youtube helped me understand what he meant since
my knowledge of Bollywood films and music is restricted. The aptness
of the comparison was further demonstrated by the crowds that had
gathered to see Ms Mamata Banerjee walk into Writers' Building after
the oath-taking ceremony at Raj Bhawan. They had not been mobilised
as a show of strength; they had come on their own. The sweltering
summer heat, which can sap the strongest, healthiest person of energy
and enthusiasm in Kolkata, proved to be no deterrent. The last time
Kolkata witnessed such celebration over the fall of a Government and
the installation of a new regime was in 1977 when Siddhartha Shankar
Ray's Government of goondas was booted out and the Left Front voted
in -- to rule West Bengal for the next 34 years.
Ms Banerjee was once again asked the same question: What does it feel
like to be Chief Minister of West Bengal? This time she was careful
not to get the gender wrong: "I have become Chief Minister but I am a
commoner." What she meant was that she remains a sadharan manush, one
with the masses wildly cheering her, breaking through cordons and
bringing down barricades, jamming the corridors of Writers' Building
and forcing the police to escort Ms Banerjee to her new office
through the back door. On the way, she did not forget to garland the
bust of Dr BC Roy, perhaps the only visionary Chief Minister the
benighted State has had.
Eighteen years ago Ms Banerjee, then a callow young parliamentarian
and a Congress street activist, was evicted from Writers' Building,
frog-marched out of the corridor on which the Chief Minister's office
is located and taken to Lal Bazar, the Calcutta Police headquarters,
in a ramshackle Black Maria. She was kept in the lock-up over night
and driven home the next day. Ms Banerjee had then vowed never to
enter Writers' Building ever again. On that occasion, she had gone to
sit on a dharna outside Jyoti Basu's office with a young deaf-and-
mute woman who had been raped, allegedly by a CPI(M) member. The
police had refused to act against the rapist. Basu had refused to
meet her or the victim.
I wonder if Ms Banerjee will try and trace that woman. For, in many
ways that dharna became the leitmotif of her long struggle that has
finally led her to power.
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Jai Maharaj, Jyotishi
Om Shanti
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