Chandra Shekhar: Why You Should Read about the Underdog Of India | EXTRACT

Perhaps one of the most underplayed prime ministers of India, Chandra Shekhar has definitely not been given the recognition he deserves, and remains largely ignored in the annals of history. Why, then, should you read about him today, 30 years later? Roderick Matthews’ book looks at the pivotal role that the strongman from Ballia, Uttar Pradesh, played in the transition of power at a decisive juncture and the lessons his tenure holds for the India of today. These lessons are applicable even today – perhaps now, more than ever.

Introduction

WHY WRITE ABOUT Chandra Shekhar and the government he led in 1990-91? Short-lived, long gone, rarely mentioned. One hundred and seventeen days of power, two hundred and twenty-three days in office. In the grander scale of things, does it matter?
Yes, it does. Justice has yet to be done to him and his colleagues. Here are five reasons why the Chandra Shekhar government should be remembered:

Its proximity to the great reforms of 1991 is not a coincidence. There is much in the story of those groundbreaking reforms that is overlooked and undervalued. Chandra Shekhar and his team of ministers and advisers made significant contributions, which have not been widely acknowledged.

Though short-lived, the Chandra Shekhar government played a vital role in national reconciliation, for which it should be given due credit. Furthermore, questions should be asked about why its life was ended prematurely, which prevented it from achieving more.

The events that marked its term in office—from 10 November 1990 to 6 March 1991, then a further caretaker period till June—raise important questions about the nature of Indian politics, particularly the difficulty of assembling an effective, left-of-centre national organization that is not the Congress. This throws light on our own times, when politicians still talk of some kind of alternative ‘third force’—a regional, ‘secular’ alliance, or a ‘federal front’—and the problems and uncertainties that accompany it.

Studying this period also helps to illuminate what is and is not ‘anti-national’—an old slur that dates back to the colonial era. This can help us to understand the complex relationship between patriotism, nationalism and national leadership in India.

Above all, it is worth placing on record just how bad the national crisis of 1990-91 really was, with its multiple layers, the most debilitating of which was Indian politics itself, with its strains and limitations, its illusions and bad habits. Unpicking and retelling that story is like looking through an inspection hatch to see how the machine works. An honest look can help us appreciate the virtues in the people of those times and the system that obtained in the country.

Modern India has faced two really serious crises: the Emergency of 1975-77 and the near bankruptcy of 1990-91. Politically, one was the obverse of the other. The first resulted from bad leadership, from which the nation was rescued by the virtues of democracy. The second resulted from the vices of democracy, from which the nation was rescued by good leadership. In the latter lay Chandra Shekhar’s great contribution.

Within the humdrum business of party politics Chandra Shekhar was never at his best. He had a contrarian streak and a dislike of overbearing authority. But in 1990 he came to power unexpectedly, not via a national election but by special arrangement, and this freed him from most of the usual constraints that party politics imposes. He then exploited that liberation, if only for a short while, to step forward as an individual who could lead, who could see what had to be done and was determined to do it regardless of the likely political damage to himself.

It fell to him to face the realities that others had underplayed, ignored or evaded. The Indian nation benefited from his efforts in a way he never did.

Many of those who worked closely with him—politicians and officials alike—believe that he has not had his due, that his place in history has been underplayed. Why the neglect? One good reason is that since the day he left office, very few powerful people in India have had any political interest in praising him or revering his memory. He came into power with few allies, and left with fewer. Since then, almost no one has needed or wanted to give him credit.

The relevance of Chandra Shekhar’s premiership also lies in the parallels that can be drawn from one of the major problems he and his Janata colleagues had faced in 1977—of finding a way to replace a dominant party bloc.

At that time, especially on the left of politics, the cry was ‘anyone but the Congress’. But trying to replace the Congress with a hybrid alliance like the Janata Party proved impossible. After its defeat in 1977, the Congress was able to reassert its dominance and enjoyed a swift return to power. Things now are both similar and different. The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) is the dominant force, and by analogy with the history of the Congress we are somewhere in the 1950s. As yet there is no national cry of ‘anyone but the BJP’. But were such a cry to be taken up by sufficient numbers, all the same problems which blighted attempts to create a third force between 1977 and 1998 will still have to be addressed. The need for adequate funding, disciplined party management, big personalities and clear messages with national appeal will still apply.

Strong governments in India tend to generate a high degree of opposition, which is a paradox. In a democracy, should not a strong government be popular? In the long run, will the BJP go the same way as the Congress? Or has it solved the problems of governance and politics in India?

The Indian electorate can be harsh in its judgements; anti-incumbency is a term that was probably coined in India. But why, historically, have governments in India been so regularly punished by voters? One major reason is that they tend to under-deliver. But why, then, is that?

One possible answer lies in the manifest difficulties that ruling a large, underdeveloped country constantly presents. It has never been easy for India’s politicians to bring about the changes they promise. The country is hard on its reformers—there are always vested interests that resist them, which can unite in attempts to discredit them. Yet so many ordinary people stand to gain from economic and social restructuring that this seems perverse, especially with a democratic system so firmly in place.

Over the years Indian leaders who enjoyed large majorities— Jawaharlal Nehru throughout his premiership, Indira Gandhi after 1971, Rajiv Gandhi in 1984—have struggled to implement significant reforms. Counter-intuitively, it was minority governments, like Chandra Shekhar’s in 1990-91 and Narasimha Rao’s that followed, which have arguably made a greater impact in terms of reforms, certainly in proportion to their parliamentary standing.

Again we must ask: why? Was it reluctance on the part of strong governments to face the difficulties of a reforming agenda, a desire for an easy ride? Or was it simply incompetence? No. A large part of the blame lies with structural factors.

First, government budgets relative to GDP have always been small in India; in the 1980s the figure hovered at a little under 12 per cent, at a time when in the UK Margaret Thatcher was trying to shrink the same proportion from around 40 per cent. This lack of funding imposes severe limitations on governmental action though, crucially, not on political promises.

Second, a case can be made that politicians in India repeatedly, though unwittingly, advertise their own impotence by over-committing, by outbidding their rivals in a public auction that determines who rules. Therefore the most important difference between governments, at both state and national levels, lies in what politicians have promised to do in order to get themselves elected. And it is always much easier for them to fulfil pledges about what they will give away than what they will change. This is not optimally beneficial to the cause of national development.

Approached in the right spirit, the turbulent years 1990-91 can be viewed as a timely reminder of what is always at stake in India.