Conduct unbecoming has finally become a reality of Indian realpolitik. And sadly, it is the "natural party of governance" that has brought this pathetic state of things to pass.If it was the rump that stood accused of making its violent presence felt in Lucknow, those responsible for the messy muddle in Parliament are the ultra-loyalists — the virginal vassals who for six long years have survived solely on the capital’s polluted air and the memories of a dear, departed leader.
Although despicable deeds have been witnessed in the past, such as in Maharashtra (chappal-wielding Dhote immediately comes to mind) and Tamil Nadu (remember the blood-stained vestis and the sari-tugging?), the epidemic has since become a truly national ailment. When Rajiv Gandhi got the biggest-ever mandate of 1984, some of his 400-plus MPs led by a six-foot-four superstar excelled in heckling a feeble Opposition.
The current, highly virulent phase of the disease was triggered by the constitution of the 11th Lok Sabha, which is today lying brain-dead and comatose. Scores of leaders, both faceless first-timers as well as poll-worsted big-game players, have taken boorishness to new heights.
It all started in May last year when the then President, Dr Shankar Dayal Sharma, committed the "ultimate crime" of following the time-honoured tradition of inviting the single largest party to form the government. The subsequent march to Rashtrapati Bhavan and the abuse heaped on him by the cacophonous "Third Front" are a blot on Indian democracy.
Lending moral support to that heterogeneous brat-pack of self-aggrandisers was India’s longest-running Chief Minister who petulantly declaimed that he would not compliment Vajpayee on assuming office as Prime Minister. It was pique with the politburo of his own party and the ignominy of being pipped at the post that led Jyoti Basu to decry as "immoral" the BJP’s acceptance the President’s invitation. That the same Basu later expatiated on a "historic blunder" is a story of sour grapes.
Another milestone was slapped in place by Kanshi Ram, also a member of the 11th Lok Sabha, in October 1996. He took the law into his own hands and thrashed several journalists even as the cameras rolled. But a cunning Home Minister conned the victims into lodging a complaint with the Press Council rather than with the police, who would have handled it as a straight case of assault and battery.
The beauty of it was that the aggrieved parties did as suggested! The toothless Press Council will probably give its report in the next century, by which time many people may well ask, "Kanshi who?"
Earlier this year, taking a leaf from Jyoti Basu’s book, the gallant Lakshmi Sehgal, Commanding Officer of the Rani Jhansi Brigade in Subhash Chandra Bose’s INA, snubbed Maharashtra Chief Minister Manohar Joshi when he sought her blessings at the Quit India anniversary celebrations in Mumbai.
The lady stepped back, a la Lalita Pawar (the cruel, scheming mother-in-law of countless movies), and snubbed him with a curt, "I’ve come here because of Ushabahen" (Gandhian Usha Mehta). Taken aback, Joshi humbly mumbled, "Jee haan, mujhe maloom hai (Yes, I know)."
As the Speaker of Parliament struggled with the "live" murder of Parliamentary procedure and as it became patently clear that the present dispensation has no scruples about trifling with the people’s verdict, it was obvious that unbecoming conduct has become a reality of our realpolitik.If the behaviour of "rump" Lucknowi was shameful, the show put up by the big, backroom boys of 24, Akbar Road is even worse. The great Mughal emperor is probably turning in his grave and bestowing the last benediction on A.O. Hume’s party: "Inna Lilahe-wa-inna lilai rajeon."