Dynasties in Indian politics are a subject that commentators return to. But the analyses tend to focus more on the symptoms than the causes. Positions often change depending on the political inclination of the analyst. Narendra Modi has been vocal against “Parivarvad” (dynastic rule), especially in the Congress, since he entered the fray for prime ministership. But people earlier critical of political dynasties have begun to find virtue in them, drawing flawed equivalence with minor dynasties within the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). Modi, they feel, is breeding a sycophantic culture in the BJP similar to what was considered the bane of dynastic parties.
Some political science experts are more forgiving towards dynasties than personality cults which they believe can be a greater threat to democracy. Though their fears of incipient fascism and dictatorship are highly exaggerated and alarmist, there is a prevailing sense of cynicism about the possibility of eliminating dynasties and personality cults from Indian politics.
As long as the euphoria of the freedom struggle and surge of nationalistic fervour lasted, political dynasties did not show their head. Only in the seventies did the early signs of dynastic rule appear in national and regional politics. The succession of Nehru by Indira Gandhi was not a done deal, to begin with. Even after becoming the prime minister, her position was far from secure within her party. This manifested in the form of the challenge she faced from the “syndicate” led by K Kamaraj, which led to the split of the Congress. Only after she consolidated her position in Congress (I) she laid the seeds of dynastic succession. The same period also saw the rise of regional parties. With a little stretch, it can be said that M Karunanidhi, taking over as chief minister after the death of Annadurai, laid the early imprint of the personality cult in South Indian politics that has lasted for over five decades. This variously manifested as identity politics and dynastic culture in different parts of the country, with the Gandhi family as its fountainhead in Delhi.
It may be instructive to look at developments in our neighbourhood around the same time. With the Cold War at its peak, the two global powers actively began cultivating relationships in South Asia. Doing so made it convenient to place their bets on single families, if only for continuity. It may not be just a coincidence that one saw the rise of political dynasties in our neighbourhood—namely, Bhuttos in Pakistan, Sheikh Mujibur and Sheikh Hasina in Bangladesh, and Bandaranaike and Kumaratunga in Sri Lanka. Though Nepal was a monarchy, the rise of the Koirala family was a sub-stream of the same trend. However, it would be disingenuous to suggest that South Asian political dynasties thrived under foreign patronage. It was perhaps the flavour of the season and a homegrown phenomenon in all these countries.
Though it is hard to find empirical data on graft, anecdotally, there was a sharp rise in corruption by political families around the same time. This probably came with the realisation among this new generation of populist leaders that political capital alone was not enough to retain power.
They needed financial security too. So acquiring wealth was a way of buying political insurance and raising the entry barrier for potential challengers. Following the Emergency and the implosion of the Janata Party, there was a phase of atomisation in Indian politics. Satraps who emerged from the churn were quick to learn the dynastic formula of the Gandhis. They built family war chests in tandem with regional empires. So, by the end of the eighties, new dynasties were born of Yadavs (Mulayam, Lalu), Pawar, Badal, Lal, Patnaik, Soren, Naidu, Mayawati, Thackeray, Reddyand, now, Banerjee.
Only the two Communist Parties—CPI(M) and CPI—and the Bharatiya Janata Party remained immune to this trend by virtue of their DNA. But not quite so. Without realising it, the CPI(M) fell into the personality and identity trap. Much of the credit for its three decades of rule in West Bengal must go to Jyoti Basu. Under him, the CPI(M) in Bengal was more of a Bengali Party than a Communist Party. The same may be said of the CPI(M) in Kerala today under Pinarayi Vijayan.
The BJP realised that the groundswell after the Ram Janmabhoomi movement could only be harnessed by a towering leader like Atal Bihari Vajpayee. Once he retired from active politics, the BJP floundered. Its fortunes could only be revived by another charismatic figure in the form of Narendra Modi. So by default, the BJP too has been promoting a personal cult of its own.
But does this matter to the ordinary public? The bigger question, perhaps, is whether people have an option. Elections have become so expensive that they are beyond any ordinary citizen’s reach unless they have powerful patrons or the backing of a large party. Lok Sabha polls reportedly cost anywhere between ₹20 to ₹30 crore per candidate. As per officially declared numbers, expenses of major parties run into hundreds of crores, even for assembly elections. Even a lateral entrant like Arvind Kejriwal has to play the identity card that may soon turn into another dynastic line. It is for the same reasons—namely control over the brand name and treasury—that makes the Gandhis irreplaceable in the Congress.
Modi and the BJP have identified an opportunity here. After an extended campaign for a “Congress-mukt Bharat”, they have now launched a broadside against other dynastic parties. The BJP hopes that younger leaders stifled by “Parivarvad” in family-owned parties may move to its fold, looking for an even playing field.
At the national level, only the Congress can counter it. But for that, it will have to radically reinvent itself, restoring meritocracy—where it provides a big tent to women and men of calibre, in which the dynasty can at best be the first among equals. Sham inner-party democracy will not work.
(Tweets @SandipGhose)
Sandip Ghose
Current affairs commentator