Something is truly fishy in the West Bengal Assembly elections this year, with food becoming a centrepiece of the campaign. Folks in West Bengal, where Rabindranath Tagore famously wrote “Ekla chalo re” (Go it alone), may want to use the tune to sing along with a parody: “Katla bolo re” (Say fish).
After Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee warned Bengalis that the BJP may end up banning Bengal’s favourite fish, meat and even eggs, BJP candidates Sharadwat Mukherjee and Koustav Bagchi held up large katla fish or carp as he moved door-to-door to canvass for votes. To drive home the point, Union minister Anurag Thakur munched on fish fry in front of a BJP poster to dispel the notion that his party was ichthyophobic.
You can’t say it is a case of ‘Machh ado about nothing’. Fish has deep sentimental value in Bengal. Someone helpfully reeled in the estimate that about 65 percent of West Bengal’s citizens, who account for more than 6 crore voters, consume fish at least once a week. Clearly, ideology—or food for thought—has taken a backseat to cuisine—or thought for food.
Narendra Modi, not to miss a symbolism, carefully posed with jhalmuri, Bengal’s favourite afternoon snack of puffed rice adorned with a mix of spicy allies—call it a quickly-put-together culinary coalition wrapped in yesterday’s newspaper. In Purulia, the PM claimed the district’s citizens would celebrate on May 4 by eating the favourite local fritter, bhabra baja. There was also mention of jhalmuri as an official celebration snack for the party aiming to storm into the Writers’ Building in Kolkata.
Such food symbolism isn’t new for the party. BJP workers had celebrated their victory in Bihar’s Assembly elections last year by gorging on parathas stuffed with sattu, the nutritious Bihari staple of ground chickpeas.
But the sight of TV channels falling over each other trying to explain the importance of jhalmuri was difficult to digest. One report claimed netizens had searched the term more than 10 crore times on Google. I won’t be surprised now if there is a political web series titled ‘Jhalmuri in Jalpaiguri’ filmed on a thriller plotline complete with Bangladeshi infiltrators and Darjeeling tea.
The final lap of Bengal’s cut-throat campaign is literally coming to a crunch. But food as an election staple not restricted to Bengal. Food supplies, grain prices and socialising around eateries are all part of the election playbook across India and indeed the world.
In Tamil Nadu, biryani has been the traditional bait to lure large crowds to campaign rallies. The Election Commission, evidently aware of this, has imposed price caps on how much candidates can spend on food to limit poll expenses and probably crack down on gluttony for votes. A candidate is not allowed to spend more than Rs 350 per head on non-vegetarian meals and Rs 110 on vegetarian ones.
In the early 1980s, Telugu Desam Party founder N T Rama Rao stormed to power in undivided Andhra Pradesh with an offer of rice at Rs 2 a kilo. HIs successor, son-in-law and current Chief Minister N Chandrababu Naidu, is believed to have lost in 2004 partly because he reduced rice subsidies.
In 2006, DMK leader M Karunanidhi also promised rice at Rs 2 to win votes, and even did a reverse swing subsequently—offering it at Rs 1 a kilo in 2008, setting the populist stage for the generations to come.
Statements made by politicians around food are a regular part of poll banter. BJP supporters used to mock Congress leader Rahul Gandhi for squatting in a Dalit home to eat a meal as a symbolic act of equality. But a few years later, Amit Shah was clicked relishing meals in Dalit homes in Odisha and Bengal, much like the Nehru family scion.
In Tamil Nadu, candidates often toss dosas on hot griddles at roadside eateries in amusing acts of camaraderie with the hoi polloi. Such visually evocative rituals are increasingly part of well-thought-out media campaigns.
Food metaphors can be easily mixed, too. In his election speeches, Thol Thirumavalavan of DMK ally VCK played with election symbols in Tamil. He said the corns in CPI’s Sickle-and-Corn symbol can be cooked in VCK’s Mudpot, whereas rival AIADMK’s Two Leaves can neither grow the BJP’s Lotus, nor yield the PMK’s Mango.
American presidential candidates routinely plan campaign stops at shops selling unhealthy fast foods. The British have their own food tales. In 2012, a mini scandal called ‘Pastygate’ erupted after David Cameron’s Conservative government proposed a 20 percent tax on hot takeaways including pasties, best described to Indians as a distant baked cousin of the samosa. The proposed tax was shelved, but not before Cameron lost face after saying that he himself had relished the working class dish at an eatery. The eatery was later found to have been closed for years.
We cannot be sure if Cameron had egg or pasty crumbs on his face. But politically evocative food issues are definitely something to be chewed over.
(Views are personal)
Read all columns by Madhavan Narayanan
Madhavan Narayanan
Senior journalist
On X @madversity