This Sheila of the south needs to banish ghosts of Gehlot, Digvijay

But there is one hitch. Karnataka, unlike Delhi, is not a city-state and vast stretches of its hinterland, reeling under three successive years of drought, have little to feel good about. True, north India’s BSP—bijli, sadak, paani—are not the key issues in this far more developed region of the country, but rural indebtedness, farmers’ suicides, and a desperate migration to cities form the leitmotif of a widespread—if still latent— discontent.

Suave and savvy, Krishna is at pains to prove—to visiting journalists and his electorate alike—that he is much more than just the “darling of the IT sector.” He admits that till about two years ago “people accused me of being elitist and pro-urban”.

But that was part of a well thought-out strategy. “When I took over in 1999, there was a scare created by Andhra Pradesh that IT was moving from Bangalore to Hyderabad. My first priority was to stop that. I didn’t have to do anything very specific—all I said was that I’ll give you infrastructure, I will create the kind of atmosphere that is necessary for you to pursue your business without government interference. And I need two years.’’

In the first year itself, the results started showing—‘‘those who went out came back, and more have been coming almost every day.’’ Bangalore is once again the IT capital of India and BT (biotechnology) is the next big thing on the block. The government has provided IT and BT corridors—large areas around the city designated for hi-tech industry—to private enterprise and MNCs, and concentrated on sprucing up the city’s infrastructure and civic delivery system through the successful public-private partnership initiative known as the Bangalore Agenda Task Force.

After beating the competition from Hyderabad, the chief minister turned his attention to rural development—and insists that despite the debilitating drought, he has made a good job of it. ‘‘I want technology to be taken to rural areas—otherwise technology doesn’t mean a damn thing to rural folk.’’

His showpiece on that front is the Bhoomi project, under which land records have been fully computerised and any farmer can walk up to a kiosk in the taluka headquarters and get a printout of his patta for Rs 15. ‘‘Coming as I do from a rural area, I know what an enormous problem a farmer faced at the hands of the village accountant to get a copy of his land record—forgery and tampering were rampant, and bribes had to be paid.’’

Besides Bhoomi, Krishna’s favourite talking points are the “Aksharadasoha” (mid-day meal) programme for over 44 lakh primary school children that even NGOs concede has had a significant impact in increasing school enrolment, and the “Stree Shakti” scheme of empowering rural women through self-help groups. In his Budget speech last month, Krishna announced the creation of a Stree Shakti Grameena Bank to promote micro-credit and enhance economic independence for women.

But can all these schemes and programmes counter the spectre of anti-incumbency that haunts practically every Indian government in the saddle? After all, Ashok Gehlot had received full marks for drought management (which, incidentally, Krishna has not) and Digvijay Singh won kudos for his “empowerment” and education initiatives.

The one advantage Krishna has over Digivijay and Gehlot is the lack of a united opposition. For a long time, Karanataka was the only state in the country (barring the Left-ruled ones) where the main opposition to the Congress came from a formidable secular force—the Janata Dal.

But that has changed over the years. The BJP has made big inroads into coastal and parts of northern Karnataka; the Hegde-led All India Progressive Janata Dal (AIPJD) which was a strong force in north and north-east Karnataka is in shambles, with its workers and leaders migrating in different directions; and the Deve Gowda-led Janata Dal (Secular) remains largely confined to south Karnataka.

In contrast, the Congress, which was wracked by dissidence and saw three chief ministers in the 1989-94 period, has been relatively united. It is also the only party which has a grassroots network in all four regions of the state and its traditional OBC-dalit-minorities votebank is largely intact. But these are early days yet. The exit of Bangarappa, the discontent among Congress MLAs (60 per cent of whom may be dropped according to PCC chief Janardhan Poojary), and the absence of Lingayat support are all indications that things are not quite hunky dory even though Krishna claims to be ‘‘supremely confident’’ of improving his 1999 performance (132 of 224 assembly and 18 of 28 LS seats) in the polls this summer.