A Nation Without Hope

MR Atal Behari Vajpayee's response to his party's crushing defeat in Delhi, Rajasthan and Madhya Pradesh was both politically and constitutionally the right one. It was constitutionally right because, as he reminded the people, elections for state assemblies cannot be treated as referenda on the central government without destroying the power of the latter to govern, and thereby undermining the Indian State. It was politically correct because by appointing three new ministers over the objections of some of his alliance partners, all from the moderate and forward-looking segment of his party, he signalled his determination not to go into a defensive shell and to address the most important issues of governance that face the nation. But if his government is to survive the shock of the defeats, this must be the beginning of its response and not the end. To frame the right response, it needs to understand what went wrong.

In recent years, electorates have learned to discriminate between casting their vote in assembly elections and doing so in a parliamentary election. This was demonstrated most dramatically when the very same electorate that returned 23 Congress candidates to Parliament in December 1984, gave Mr Ramakrishna Hegde's Janata government in Karnataka a two-thirds majority in the assembly elections three months later. But last month's elections were different because a substantial part of the electorate voted not on local but national issues. That is the only way to explain why the BJP was rejected not only in Delhi and Rajasthan where it was the incumbent party, but also in Madhya Pradesh, where it was not.

The skyrocketing cost of onions was undoubtedly one of the issues that brought the BJP down. But why was the public so ready to blame the BJP and not the weather gods? Why did it not heed the party's valid defence that the high inflation and shortages of vegetables were the product of the policies of its predecessors?

The short answer is that the public was in no mood to listen to excuses and explanations. To the extent that the 1998 elections generated a mandate, it was to govern and to resolve the pressing problems that had accumulated from the past. A crucial 'swing' vote, consisting of middle-of-the-road voters, had decided the outcome of the elections by pinning its hope for change on the BJP because every other political party had failed it so far. But govern is about the only thing that the BJP government did not do in the eight months before the assembly elections. As a result, the 'swing' vote swung away from the BJP once more.

The most cursory look at the past eight months reveals the historic opportunity that the BJP has missed. When it came to power, each and every institution of democracy was under severe strain: Corruption had turned into a brazen protection racket; criminals no longer ruled the people indirectly through their influence with political 'leaders' but directly as cabinet ministers and ministers of state; the judiciary had virtually broken down under the weight of unresolved cases, and as innumerable cases of murder and extortion involving political leaders had shown the rule of law had all but broken down. The economy had stalled. Employment growth had fallen to zero, and middle class jobs were being lost day by day. The Central and state treasuries were empty. The armed forces had been starved of funds to the point where they were no longer capable of fighting a war.

Worst of all, failure to govern had bred a vicious circle of political impotence; the less governments did for the people the less they dared to ask them for sacrifices in the short term that would brighten the nation's future prospects. The BJP therefore had a heaven sent opportunity to change things. Since it had never been in power at the Centre it could disclaim all responsibility for the state of the nation, and ask the people for their support in making a decisive new start.

BUT it did nothing of the kind. Having come to power without a coherent vision of a future for India, it had nothing to offer the people in return for sacrifice. As a result it became the slave of its bureaucrats—the very same bureaucrats who had presided over the decay of the nation for five decades. In no time at all it too began to justify the existing state of the country; putting a false gloss on the deteriorating economy and bankrupt treasury, and pretending, as its predecessors had been doing, that the Indian State was fully clothed when in fact it was stark naked.

The few occasions on which it tried to formulate new policies turned out to be even worse. For the BJP turned for new ideas to the crackpot wing of its own party—the Swadeshi Jagaran Manch for ideas on the economy; the VHP for ideas on culture, and the RSS for ideas on education. By doing so, it created new conflicts in a society already torn by conflict; and raised doubts among hitherto contented minorities about their future in India.

The pity of it is that even while the public was losing faith in the BJP, the party itself was coming to grips with the challenge of government. After months of a sphinx-like silence in which he outdid even Mr Narasimha Rao, Mr Vajpayee had finally come to life. In the field of economic policy there were definite indications that the government not only understood how grave the situation was, but intended to do something about it. And after having set off nuclear bombs without a clue to the probable reaction of the world, the government had got down to constructive talks with the Americans. It is therefore still not too late for Mr Vajpayee to disown India's, and his own party's past, and make a fresh start. The country does not want to go on living without hope. Any government that can explain to it why it must take difficult decisions will gain its support.