In feudal Japan, the ruling class lived by a code of honour—bushido. Each time a powerful prince, samurai or warrior was defeated in battle or humiliated, they committed sepukku—or hara kiri as it is widely known.
Samurai lived to die. The UPA government keeps dying to shamelessly live another day. It survives by committing daily sepukku. There is no bushido in its survival, as its plans are sunk time and again by the troublesome tempest, Trinamool-chief Mamata Banerjee. The Pension Bill is the latest victim of her populist chutzpah; it shows who really runs the country. Ironically, the Congress seems sure that the bill that is being opposed by a Congress ally would be passed in Parliament with BJP’s support.
Finance Minister Pranab Mukherjee has been often overheard saying Mamata is the real prime minister. She has complete contempt for Manmohan Singh, even skipping his celebratory dinner on the UPA’s third anniversary. Each time a petrol hike happens, the government says uncle to Didi. In March, she forced Manmohan to sack her own minister, Dinesh Trivedi for authoring a railway budget which she had not approved. The rail reforms were rolled back. In May, TMC voted against the Indian Medical Council (Amendment) Bill. Before the Lokpal bill was to reach Parliament in December 2011, Manmohan desperately tried to reach Mamata: she did not bother to even take his call, conveying that she was busy with party work; Congress party floor managers and the UPA government were humiliated when TMC supported the Opposition and proposed amendments to the bill in the Rajya Sabha. The same month, she forced Manmohan to forego plans for FDI in retail. In September, she had stood him up on his Dhaka visit on the Teesta water-sharing deal with Bangladesh, saying it went against north Bengal’s interests. As the prime minister and his finance minister—the government’s main interlocutor with Mamata—try to medicate the economy and combat policy paralysis, one meddlesome maverick continues to hold the government to ransom.
Didi is an easy read—an unsubtle, autocratic mind that is now alienated from the Bengali bhadralok. The lumpenised political landscape the CPM left behind is Mamata’s natural constituency. She jails people for captious cartoons and tiresome tweets; harasses professors for criticising her government; bullies corporate czars at investment bazaars; tries to muzzle the media; derides a rape victim and clamps down on nightclubs; slaps doctors while her nephew assaults cops. Mamata’s Bengal is no different from Communist Bengal—only, the reds project a sophisticated telegenic face with Karat. After the urbanity of Jyoti Basu and Buddhadeb, the new Bengal is mighty chuffed with its lumpen Durga.
Does the Congress realise that saving democracy is not the same thing as saving a government? With its fledgling romance with the Samajwadi Party—which has 22 MPs—sizzling, a divorce from Didi’s TMC—which has only 19 MPs—can be achieved without political alimony. Ironically, the Congress had humiliated Mulayam Singh when he offered support for UPA I: but then, in politics, there are no permanent friends or enemeies—or allies.
Will the divorce happen before the Lok Sabha polls, and after the Raisina Hill election? Meanwhile, it seems utterly gratifying for the powerful populist with a penurious past, to hold up a national government, ostensibly for dosh. As the self-appointed custodian of Bengal’s honour, Mamata is enjoying her hour of unbridled power. Will Manmohan dare tweet a protest?
Ravi@newindianexpress.com