The pre-poll season is tailor-made for cynical thoughts, with a cabinet minister in the United Progressive Alliance government discovering a wonderful human being in the Shiv Sena chieftain and the Left finding itself in the seventh heaven of happiness on account of freshly gained insights regarding the comradely attributes of Shrimathi Jayalalithaa. There is, however, another way of looking at the unfolding spectacle. The two principal ‘national’ parties are having a harrowing time; for the first time, their pretensions are being put to the test. Neither of them can claim primacy in more than a handful of the major states in the country; everywhere else they are either in the opposition or a junior partner in a tenuous coalition regime. Both nonetheless take it for granted that it is their prerogative to occupy the prime ministerial slot in the event that the alliance they head scrapes through to a majority, even if it has as many as eight or ten constituents.
The pre-nomination hassles have brought both these parties down to earth. In clashes between prima donna airs on the one side and we-could-not-care-less-for-your-hoity-toity bravura on the other, by and large the ‘national’ party concerned has been forced to yield ground; where it has not, the regional parties have gone their own way, dampening the prospect of the ‘national’ party. And this is only the beginning of the fun. Should the April-May polls eventuate in a considerably fewer number of seats for both the Congress and the Bharatiya Janata Party than they had in the 14th Lok Sabha, the fat would really be in the fire. Either party would be hard put to claim the position of head of government as its natural prerogative, or to appropriate the lion’s share of the important portfolios. A regional party like the one Behenji presides over could actually then emerge as a serious contender for the post, for the number of members of parliament she controls would be decisive for the stability of any regime.
Even in case either of the ‘national’ parties forming the government on the prop of lesser parties is allowed to name the prime minister, the partners in the alliance could still have the gall to insist that the person chosen for the post must be specifically endorsed by them. That would be an effective antidote to the presumptuousness of the grandchildren and great-grandchildren from habituated-to-rule families.
If reports of current trends in public opinion are even partially correct, the installation next May of a prime minister who did not belong to either the Congress or the BJP seems a fair possibility. A government led by a prime minister with affiliation to a regional party may or may not last very long. Even if it capsizes quickly, the chances are that it will be succeeded by a look-alike coalition. In any event, the regional parties will continue to hog the limelight.
There is hardly any reason to feel tragic over such a dénouement. If parties with their focus on problems in the regions come to power at the Centre, the agenda in New Delhi will of course undergo a qualitative change. The character of the Union budget will be transformed. More money will flow, for instance, to the rural employment guarantee scheme. The obsession over export-led growth will be played down with the emphasis shifting to programmes which generate growth within particular regions. Portfolios such as external affairs, defence and commerce will turn out to be of lesser significance; ministries which deal with problems of daily living in the nooks and corners of this vast country — agriculture, irrigation, railways, surface transport, power development — will command greater attention. The regimes may be unstable, but growth of the gross domestic product could still accelerate.
Why not also mention one particularly lovely outcome of the regional parties capturing power in New Delhi? The agenda of these parties are essentially parochial, their prime interest is their parish. They will therefore work up a frenzy only when regional issues are involved; they can be expected to make much less ado over other matters. Their concern for national security, it follows, will not reach the level of paranoia. The bogey of global terror will not be their cup of tea either. This will induce the hope that, during the tenure of such a regime, defence would get reasonably curtailed, releasing resources for activities that contribute to balanced economic growth.
There is certainly scope for yet another speculation. The Constitution had arranged at the national level for a second chamber, the Rajya Sabha, where the focus, it was hoped, will be on problems and issues directly affecting the states. It was to be, so to say, a safety valve. To ensure that it adequately fulfilled that role, the Representation of the People Act, put on the statute in 1950, made it explicit that only persons ‘ordinarily resident’ in a state were eligible to represent that state in the Rajya Sabha. The proviso made ample sense: if you were to discuss matters pertaining to a state, you must be conversant with such matters, and you could be so only if you are a permanent resident in that state, no outsider will fit the bill. But, over the decades, the original purpose for which the Rajya Sabha was conceived was rudely ignored; the different political parties combinedly agreed to cock a snook at the RPA; someone ordinarily resident in Karnataka pretended to represent Orissa in the Rajya Sabha, someone from West Bengal represented Gujarat, someone from Delhi represented Assam.
The safety valve was not allowed to function, aliens who hardly knew the language and culture of a state were incapable of articulating its problems. The problems were there, but there was no outlet for expressing them. The rise of regional parties all over the country, it can be very well maintained, is at least in part a consequence of the debasement of the Rajya Sabha and the increasing concentration of power and resources in the hands of the Centre; it is the persona of states which is trying to assert itself under the mask of caste, ethnic or linguistic grievances and aspirations.
The capture of power in New Delhi by regional political formations could therefore be a precursor to the restructuring of Centre-state relations by tilting the balance in favour of the states — progressive decentralization of the polity emerging as the new reality. The end of monopolization of power by ‘national’ parties flaunting the dogma of the Union having precedence over the states could, at the same time, be a blow against authoritarian political trends too.
True, habitual non-believers will be ready with their cynical riposte. If perchance regional leaders come to sneak into power at the Centre, the overall picture, they will argue, need not change at all. Commission agents thrive in all climates. Regional bosses, enthroned in the national capital, will soon discover the meaning of meaning; they will grasp the significance of, for instance, defence contracts and petroleum deals, and be persuaded to perceive the virtue of letting sleeping dogs lie: the allure of getting corrupted will duly weaken their resolve to further regional causes.
The cynics may be all-knowing. Even so, why not give a chance to an alternative experience? If it is this nation’s fate to be led by the corrupt, why not the corruption be diffused, and let everybody have a share of the pie? And any way, a country which survived Indira Gandhi’s Emergency should not be scared of, say, a Behenji on the rampage.
