Between Basava and WhatsAppa

The two main contesting sources of political ideas, the BJP and the Congress, blame each other for the visible lack of development in this region.
Image used for illustrative purposes only. (Express Illustrations)
Image used for illustrative purposes only. (Express Illustrations)

By now, even those outside would be painfully conscious of the electioneering that has ended today in Karnataka. For one, as it reached its loud crescendo, it sounded more like a train averting a crash. And they would have been flooded with local detail. Like nuances of the Lingayat community. The more observant ones may also be up to speed on the poet-philosopher Basavanna himself — its spiritual fountainhead and chief minister of King Bijjala II of the Kalachuri dynasty. The one who talked of ahimsa and equality, against social discrimination of women, rituals and superstition, way back in the 12th century.

North Karnataka is that part of the state that’s contiguous to Bombay/Maharashtra on one side and Hyderabad/Telangana on the other, with Central Karnataka anchoring it — ‘central’ being where it should be, the heart and mind of the state. The North is where Hubballi-Dharwad nestles, still wearing the memories of all its cultural elegance and depth, a world once animated by the presence of litterateurs, thinkers, artistes, musicians and students. Till the cycle of life took over, the young and aspiring moved out, and the hub ceased to be such a hub. The Lingayat community, comprising nearly 35 per cent of the population here, continues to loom over the electoral politics though — and by extension, controls the levers of power in the state. As if culture has been replaced at the currency exchange with power.

Not all parts of the region near the shine and glitz of the buzzing economy one sees everywhere in the 21st century. The more north one’s compass takes you, the more backward the map becomes. Neo-liberal money still flows along the old economy’s highways — it has neither penetrated these parts of the Deccan plateau nor done justice to its scenic beauty. The two main contesting sources of political ideas, the BJP and the Congress, blame each other for the visible lack of development in this region.

Basavaraj Bommai, the incumbent Chief Minister whose fate would be decided in a day, is contesting from this part—Shiggaon assembly constituency in Haveri district. Bommai may not have top ratings on the CM popularity chart, but on the ground here in Shiggaon, he’s the adopted ‘son of the soil’ with an emotional connection. Lingayats anyway have been voting solidly for BJP at least since the early 1990s. “But we don’t need to be Lingayat to vote for Bommai,” beams a middle-aged man in his rural constituency.

There’s a substantial Muslim vote in the constituency — they too are not averse to voting for Bommai. The Congress, they claim, have put up a weak candidate in Yasir Ahmed Khan Pathan, hinting at some back-end understanding. The vociferous debates at the national or state level — or on WhatsApp — are not absent on the ground. “Why just talk about Lingayat and caste — we’re Hindus,” intones a young engineering student who’s come back to the village to witness the voting up close. The elders look at him in an indulgent way. The knowledge economy may not have reached here, but the information economy has.

A vice-chancellor of a prominent institution in the Hubballi-Dharwad region admits the Lingayat tradition is waning, “particularly among the urban youth.” And cites that as the reason why the community is losing its hold on Karnataka’s politics and political thought. But were the last two CMs — BS Yediyurappa and Bommai — not from the community? “Having a leader doesn’t always help. The region where the Lingayats are in larger numbers have also not seen much development.” There’s indeed the sense of drift, an aloofness—ec­o­n­omic as well as psychological. 

Lingayats unlikely to vote en masse for any party this time

It’s not perhaps that internal drift within the community that led to Jagadish Shettar and Laxman Savadi jumping to the Congress ship. Union Home Minister Amit Shah, who toured the north intensively, insists both will lose by a wide margin for having left the party for self-interest. In Huballi-Dharwad Central and in Athani respectively, it’s therefore just a prestige battle. Will the Lingayats remain with the BJP, responding to what the party calls ‘betrayal’, or will the older generation press the button to avenge the disrespect to their leader—citing what some are calling a “Brahminical conspiracy?”

Shettar, a former CM himself, is almost a symbol of his community as it finds itself today — at a crossroads. Statements emerging from the Lingayat mutts across the regions punctuate the air like blinking lighthouse signals in the fog, speaking of shifting currents. Even if it doesn’t influence rural voters or those ideologically anchored, it will not go without an impact. Shettar’s own Banajiga Lingayat community, spread across a few constituencies in the central districts, may vote differently too. At least its elders, if not the youth, find the BJP’s muscular ideology more enticing than the Congress’s old-worldliness.

That the Lingayats are unlikely to vote en masse for any party this time is not something that’s being disputed. How far and deeply it would split can never be counted until the last vote. On that, depends who gets the lion’s share of 40 seats here. The BJP, retaining its majority, or the Congress, breaking into the bastion.

Not that the Lingayats are the only caste denomination that matters — the Kurubas are also a sizeable section here, as are the Maratha and Banjara communities. But scholar-writer GN Devy sees more macro-level patterns. “This is not an election about any community or state, it is about the nation. About the South culturally and financially trying to safeguard itself from an onslaught,” he says. And Devy feels the Bharat Jodo Yatra sowed the ground here with the seeds of resistance.

For every argument on that side, one also gets those like writer Hanumanth V Kakhandaki and his musician-wife Radhika Kakhandaki, who think there’s no truer “nationalist than Modi.” Their publisher-friend Sameer Joshi chips in to add that the ‘revri’ culture is no good! Voices that need not be from Hubbali-Dharwad but could belong anywhere in the post-modern conundrum that’s India. A vote cast on May 10 will hold multiple meanings, spanning the hyperlocal and the great beyond, ancient wisdom as well as modern brands of thought.

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