Salman Rushdie thinks British monarchy is both stupid and archaic. Unfortunately for him, a fair majority of the denizens of his adopted country will not share his view. Even a miner in Worksop, Nottinghamshire or Ebbw Vale, Wales, otherwise fiercely left-wing, will have nice words to say about royalty. The British are fond of this curiosum they possess. It is sort of a plaything for them; they get a kick reading or hearing or gossiping about how the queen and her brood indulge themselves with the generous subsidy the parliament sets aside for them. Occasional escapades by this or that prince adds spice to the pub sessions. And if suddenly a phenomenon like Princess Diana appears on the firmament, the cup of fulfilment is overfull. The point of relevance is that the British royal family is generally docile. It, as the cliché goes, reigns but does not rule. In fact, the tacit understanding is that it will never aspire to rule. That understanding has been respected for close to two centuries. The monarchy does not compete for power, it hardly protests when the parliament decides to take away even some of its minor prerogatives. In sum, royalty is almost a lap dog to the British people.

The problem India is facing is somewhat different. Here, too, a monarchy has been spawned over the 60-odd years since Independence. This has happened despite the nation formally being a secular democratic republic. The process that has brought about this denouement is rather unusual. Not the entire political spectrum, only a particular segment of it, the Congress, believes in, and sustains within its fold, a monarchical system. The party enjoys the confidence of only a little more than 25 per cent of the national electorate.

However, the political formation next to it in terms of electoral strength, the Bharatiya Janata Party, is everybody else’s, if not bete noire, at least bugbear. This party has a deep attachment to an archaic religious fundamentalism and would not mind dragging the nation back to the mores and manners of a dark prehistoric past. It has organized gangs of sympathizers who love to bare their ugly fangs all the while. Their capability to create mischief is immense, as has been demonstrated on several occasions, including in the destruction of the Babri mosque. Most other political outfits are scared to death at the prospect of the BJP’s assumption of power at the national level on a long-term basis. Even those with an intense dislike for feudal totems such as the monarchy are, therefore, impelled to lend support to the Congress to form a government at the Centre; they judge it to be a lesser evil. In case the conscience of one or two of these parties will not allow them to offer direct support to the Congress, they could be relied upon to exercise a veto on any proposal to vote the BJP to power, thereby indirectly clearing the coast for the Congress.

A pattern was thus set at the beginning of the century. A government is put together by a coalition of parties with the Congress as the major partner. Naturally it claims the right to name the prime minister. The other constituents of the coalition, or those offering support from outside, are in no position to tell the Congress whom it should choose for the position. Since they have decided to embrace the Congress, they have to embrace it along with its entire baggage, the most important part of which is the Nehru-Gandhi family. It is in every sense a love-me-love-my-dog kind of situation.

Consequences follow. With the Congress assuming power, the Nehru-Gandhi dynasty ipso facto comes to power. It is a frozen situation. As long as the BJP continues to be identified with the fearsome Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, the Bajrang Dal and the Vishwa Hindu Parishad, the Congress will have its way and firmly wield power at the national level. And given the total hold exercised by the Nehru-Gandhi dynasty over the Congress, this power will automatically get concentrated in its hands; a monarchical system will, in effect, be imposed on the nation. This has emerged as the reality notwithstanding what the Constitution says.

It is a most curious development. Buttonhole at random any leader or worker of the Congress. He or she will profess abiding faith in democratic principles and express — at least in private — no particular fascination for the royalty-featuring dynastic succession that has established itself within the party. And yet, everyone goes along with what has come to pass. The underlying reason for this outcome is not difficult to unravel. The Congress is not so much a party as an uneasy combine of heterogeneous factions. Were any one of these factions to attain a dominant position within the party, that would be anathema to the others, who would immediately get together and pull it down. This would happen whichever faction attempts to take control of the party organization. The Nehru-Gandhi family has, in the circumstances, proved to be an essential survival kit for the party. The family has charisma, which, it is thought, will come in handy during the polling season. It is, besides, equidistant from all the factions. Every faction is therefore happy to accept it as the party’s supreme decision-maker and do its bidding. The set-up is an exact replica of medieval arrangements: the barons would distrust one another and often engage in internecine battles, but would swear total allegiance to the king.

The dynasty is enjoying this fortune bequeathed to it by two happenstances. As long as the nation’s majority feels allergic to the genuflections of the RSS-VHP-Bajrang Dal crowd and therefore keen to keep the BJP out of power, the preference will be for a coalition of non-BJP parties which will enjoy the confidence of Parliament. A coalition of this nature is impossible unless the Congress is conceded the role of principal constituent. This is where the second happenstance comes into play. The Congress is unable to function as a party if the dynasty is not there to ensure some sort of a stable equilibrium within its fold. The prime ministerial slot in the coalition regime will naturally belong to the Congress. And within the Congress all factions will agree that — as in the case of selecting the party’s own functionaries at different levels — the choice of prime minister be left to the discretion of the dynasty which has attained the status of royalty. The person chosen, it is taken for granted, will be a member of the royal family itself. If the family, for some special reason, prefers not to fill the position by one of its own members, it will name a faithful minion. The factions will then enter into a bout of competitive sycophancy to propose and second the name decided upon by royalty.

Irrespective of whether the prime minister is from within the royal family or someone named by it, no question it will always remain the supreme authority in the government system. The other parties in the coalition will have no say in the matter. After all, many of these coalition partners follow their own version of dynastic succession.

In 2004, royalty chose a faithful acolyte as prime minister while the head of the royal family assumed the position of chairperson of the ruling coalition. The overall control is unquestionably with royalty. This aspect of reality is reflected in various government publicity materials which carry the image of the chairperson of the United Progressive Alliance side by side with that of the prime minister, without bothering about constitutional propriety. And the incumbent prime minister knows that any day a member of the family wants to occupy his slot, he has to vacate it. It is, really and truly, a monarchical system.

In Britain, the trappings of power are there for royalty — decisions are taken in the name of Her or His Majesty — but the exercise of actual power is the domain of parliament. The Indian situation is precisely the reverse: there is no formal monarch, the Constitution precludes such a possibility, for is not the country a republic? Effective power — power of the scope and magnitude a medieval king used to wield — has, however, got transferred to the dynasty.

India has thereby proved a point: it is possible to end up with a monarchical system even without disturbing the framework of a formal democratic apparatus supposedly functioning in accordance with the specificities inscribed in a written Constitution. This may be described as archaic, others might even call it disgusting or stupid. None of the epithets will, for the present, make the least difference to the state of things.