My apology to Che-lovers for the title, but the pull of the wheel has been strong in this space these last few days, and it seems opportune to talk 'cycle politics' in my beloved home state. For the politically disinclined or oracularly averse — you would be hard put to find a self-respecting Bihari willing to answer to either description — the crucial eastern state is mid-way through polls to elect a new Vidhan Sabha. Truth be told, in the fractious cauldron of Bihar's polity where caste often looms larger than life, the election appears a tantalisingly close call (at the very least, it may hardly prove the cakewalk for the ruling NDA that the national media would have us believe). The battle is, equally, critical to fortunes of at least two regional satraps with thinly-veiled national ambitions. For the country's largest party too, securing a firm foothold in Bihar is crucial to its long-term consolidation plans.
Naturally, with such high stakes, it is a no-holds-barred fight, with participants of every persuasion eager to seize upon and amplify the minutest of issues. One idea that has thus assumed centrestage is the Mukhyamantri Balika Cycle Yojana. The scheme is simple enough: it entitles girls who pass Class VIII in government schools to state support in the form of a free bicycle, or INR 2000 to purchase one. (It should come as no surprise that although the Nitish Kumar government subsequently extended the scheme to boys, it is the promise of female empowerment implicit in its original version that has captured the public imagination in one of India's most backward states.)
On his part, Nitish has scarcely hesitated to ride this humble bicycle into the grime of electoral debate. He has extolled its virtues, from obvious aspects like education enabling gender equality to deft positioning as a philosophical lesson in striking balance. The latter in particular is a veritable coup de maître: in a single turn of the pedal, it transforms the potentially divisive edge of any female assertion arising from the scheme, and imbues it with a character of harmony and inclusion. The logic is crisp — indeed crucial in the extant male-dominated quasi-feudal milieu — but clearly there is bigger game afoot.
In the larger picture, Nitish knows that the issue of governance played more than its part in pitchforking the NDA into power in 2005 (and reinforced in 2009) when his predecessor's much-vaunted contempt for vikas as a demotic issue turned electoral turtle. (Traverse back in history and one could make an equally good case via Rajiv's freshman promise and appeal to change in the massive post-Indira assassination mandate.) In short, development may not be an absolute winning ticket but it can serve as a formidable consolidator in electoral sweepstakes. The wily politician in the Bihar CM reckons that he needs every card on the table to retain his edge in its complex electoral arithmetic. (This same appease-all desperation also motivates his covert courting of JD-U neo-converts and the occasional bahubali, moves that are denounced as capitulation by pro-vikas votaries in the intelligentsia.)
Equally, the pragmatic Nitish recognizes he is no Narendra Modi, lacking the BJP strongman's masterly leveraging of the governance plank, or indeed his enviable track record. Even Modi's biggest detractors (and Bihar's CM does occasionally assume that garb) cannot deny the single-minded determination that Chhote Sardar brings to Gujarat's development agenda, or his patience-is-no-virtue bias for action. Regrettably, Bihar under NDA rule has largely struggled to shrug off the negative-growth RJD legacy and benefitted partially from its shrunk-denominator effect. In a nutshell, it is no one's case that no good has come about in Bihar post-2005, but its pace has been painfully slow and corruption continues to sadly fester. The incumbent CM, therefore, has little choice but to root for the symbolism in his bicycle scheme.
The compulsions for Nitish's main challenger are, of course, entirely different. Shri Laloo Yadav is looking for a way out of the political Recycle Bin, hoping that the cycle of change prompts people to vote RJD's lantern back to power. The path is hardly rosy and the 60+ one-time kingmaker has struggled to brew a concoction to renew his spell, apart from hope in Ram Vilas Paswan's vote-transfer ability. After initial flirtations with the development plank by pointing to his record as Rail Mantri (a claim made hollow thanks to Didi's revelations) he tried one-upmanship too — promising Class IX students motorcycles if victorious (so much simpler to match 1-kg rice with 2, alas!) — but thankfully did not persist. It is, after all, one thing to turn animal fodder into millions, and quite another to conjure up finances for a mere-paas-motorcycle scheme (petrol bhi hai?). And then there is the minor happenstance of students not being of driving age, a fact that Nitish was quick to drive home, calling his bête noire's schemes as "always meant to land you in jail"!
Unsurprisingly, we have had some RJD leaders attempt murder-by-whispers too, with talk of bicycles being used to finance eloping couples, inter-caste marriages, and what-not. Such slander campaigns sit lightly, however, and most Biharis are too politically adept to miss the attempt to paper over Lalooji's misgovernance credentials (he once castigated Raghuvansh Prasad Singh, his most trusted lieutenant, publicly during an election rally for merely mentioning development, calling it an avoidable digression from 'the fight against communal forces'!). Hence, despite his core support base more or less intact (though there is some talk of post-Babri Muslim angst changing this at a local seat level), Lalooji has been left to ponder where the additional numbers will come from. One can never write him off too soon, but it has till now sounded like a far cry from the days of jab tak rahega samose mein aloo.
In a few days from now, we will get to know how it stacks up. Yet, irrespective of party inclination, a broader political lesson emerges — one that gives reason for hope to the Bihari in me. Holding its own amidst the high stakes and tightly strung social equations, the humble bicycle — campaign rally exhibit extraordinaire — epitomises the inevitable drive of economic progress and an inclusive agenda. Or as a much wiser man once put it, one cannot fool all the people all of the time.
Naturally, with such high stakes, it is a no-holds-barred fight, with participants of every persuasion eager to seize upon and amplify the minutest of issues. One idea that has thus assumed centrestage is the Mukhyamantri Balika Cycle Yojana. The scheme is simple enough: it entitles girls who pass Class VIII in government schools to state support in the form of a free bicycle, or INR 2000 to purchase one. (It should come as no surprise that although the Nitish Kumar government subsequently extended the scheme to boys, it is the promise of female empowerment implicit in its original version that has captured the public imagination in one of India's most backward states.)
On his part, Nitish has scarcely hesitated to ride this humble bicycle into the grime of electoral debate. He has extolled its virtues, from obvious aspects like education enabling gender equality to deft positioning as a philosophical lesson in striking balance. The latter in particular is a veritable coup de maître: in a single turn of the pedal, it transforms the potentially divisive edge of any female assertion arising from the scheme, and imbues it with a character of harmony and inclusion. The logic is crisp — indeed crucial in the extant male-dominated quasi-feudal milieu — but clearly there is bigger game afoot.
In the larger picture, Nitish knows that the issue of governance played more than its part in pitchforking the NDA into power in 2005 (and reinforced in 2009) when his predecessor's much-vaunted contempt for vikas as a demotic issue turned electoral turtle. (Traverse back in history and one could make an equally good case via Rajiv's freshman promise and appeal to change in the massive post-Indira assassination mandate.) In short, development may not be an absolute winning ticket but it can serve as a formidable consolidator in electoral sweepstakes. The wily politician in the Bihar CM reckons that he needs every card on the table to retain his edge in its complex electoral arithmetic. (This same appease-all desperation also motivates his covert courting of JD-U neo-converts and the occasional bahubali, moves that are denounced as capitulation by pro-vikas votaries in the intelligentsia.)
Equally, the pragmatic Nitish recognizes he is no Narendra Modi, lacking the BJP strongman's masterly leveraging of the governance plank, or indeed his enviable track record. Even Modi's biggest detractors (and Bihar's CM does occasionally assume that garb) cannot deny the single-minded determination that Chhote Sardar brings to Gujarat's development agenda, or his patience-is-no-virtue bias for action. Regrettably, Bihar under NDA rule has largely struggled to shrug off the negative-growth RJD legacy and benefitted partially from its shrunk-denominator effect. In a nutshell, it is no one's case that no good has come about in Bihar post-2005, but its pace has been painfully slow and corruption continues to sadly fester. The incumbent CM, therefore, has little choice but to root for the symbolism in his bicycle scheme.
The compulsions for Nitish's main challenger are, of course, entirely different. Shri Laloo Yadav is looking for a way out of the political Recycle Bin, hoping that the cycle of change prompts people to vote RJD's lantern back to power. The path is hardly rosy and the 60+ one-time kingmaker has struggled to brew a concoction to renew his spell, apart from hope in Ram Vilas Paswan's vote-transfer ability. After initial flirtations with the development plank by pointing to his record as Rail Mantri (a claim made hollow thanks to Didi's revelations) he tried one-upmanship too — promising Class IX students motorcycles if victorious (so much simpler to match 1-kg rice with 2, alas!) — but thankfully did not persist. It is, after all, one thing to turn animal fodder into millions, and quite another to conjure up finances for a mere-paas-motorcycle scheme (petrol bhi hai?). And then there is the minor happenstance of students not being of driving age, a fact that Nitish was quick to drive home, calling his bête noire's schemes as "always meant to land you in jail"!
Unsurprisingly, we have had some RJD leaders attempt murder-by-whispers too, with talk of bicycles being used to finance eloping couples, inter-caste marriages, and what-not. Such slander campaigns sit lightly, however, and most Biharis are too politically adept to miss the attempt to paper over Lalooji's misgovernance credentials (he once castigated Raghuvansh Prasad Singh, his most trusted lieutenant, publicly during an election rally for merely mentioning development, calling it an avoidable digression from 'the fight against communal forces'!). Hence, despite his core support base more or less intact (though there is some talk of post-Babri Muslim angst changing this at a local seat level), Lalooji has been left to ponder where the additional numbers will come from. One can never write him off too soon, but it has till now sounded like a far cry from the days of jab tak rahega samose mein aloo.
In a few days from now, we will get to know how it stacks up. Yet, irrespective of party inclination, a broader political lesson emerges — one that gives reason for hope to the Bihari in me. Holding its own amidst the high stakes and tightly strung social equations, the humble bicycle — campaign rally exhibit extraordinaire — epitomises the inevitable drive of economic progress and an inclusive agenda. Or as a much wiser man once put it, one cannot fool all the people all of the time.
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4 comments:
Thanks for this, Amit. I do hope Nitish Ji comes back to power. Jai Ho.
http://nitishspeaks.blogspot.com/2010/04/mukhyamantri-balika-cycle-yojna.html
A close call it was not dude but I am happy for Biharis and hoping some people I know take plunge soon too. Right partner?!
-A
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