Wither Chanakya?

(Published in the 1st Anniversary Issue of FHM in India, 2009)

In a country that has produced political geniuses like Chanakya and Gandhi there remains much to be desired today from the Indian ‘Man in Politics’. While you find them in all sizes and shapes and shades of colour (even the reds come in shades from the very pale pink to the darkest blood red, competing with the latest Asian paints shade card!) the characteristics they portray are sometimes hilarious and often shameful. However, whether these peculiarities are intrinsic to their Indian-ness, their manhood or a requirement of being in politics is a debate that could raise storms in many cocktail glasses.

One of the first things I had noticed about young men involved with politics in colleges in Kolkata (where almost everyone is college ‘does politics’ one way or the other) was the ‘female consort syndrome’. Every man who held some political view, or was part of some student political body, or held some post in the college union expected every woman in the college to a) agree with their point of view b) worship them and finally c) join the group they professed they belonged to. Some tribes calculate the man’s worth counting the number of cows they have and here a man’s worth was calculated by the number of women he could initiate into his political group. It used to get extremely funny since there would often be shows of rather distressing competitiveness among men in college politics over the ownership of the new women who joined the college and many union rooms are silent witnesses to these skirmishes. I guess this streak in men continue and grow as they graduate from college politics to state, regional and national ones. And by then their being in positions of control wields a certain power over the worlds they inhabit which I guess a lot of women find attractive. (Power in any form, be in academic, financial, religious or political has always been what youngsters these days would loosely call ‘chick-magnet’ic!)

Having grown up in an environment of immense political consciousness in Bengal fed regularly with radical left ideas (Naxalbari and its aftermath was still raw in every Bengali home and literary page) one was rather disillusioned seeing the men in politics so far away from anything remotely recognizable as ideology. The man of politics is a man-opportunistic. He interchanges words like ‘strategy’ and ‘tactic’ often enough in his oratory brilliance to make the most of the options he has. He uses, abuses and then refuses to accept blame for anything.

Like the mythical Cerberus, a man in politics has many faces which he uses to deceive and manipulate the media and his constituency. An entire lifetime goes by without really knowing what the man is actually about. He probably never uses a mirror. Like a chameleon he morphs into the colour of the background that suits him. And like a chameleon it is often difficult to pin him down. He changes his stances so often and so promptly that it becomes a riddle whether he shifts his principles for his party or the party for his principles. As the political merry go round heightens post every election with auctions placed for the highest bidder, the media screams hoarse about making pre-election tie ups mandatory and the voters sigh at the inevitable.

A man in politics is also an acclaimed performer. He beats Bollywood actors hands down on his pretences of empathy, sympathy and compassion for his electorate. No wonder sons of politicians choose filmdom as their natural habitat. He uses everything in the book and some cleverly innovated ones to make sure we are entertained, or at least engaged in the black humour drama he unfolds. Like a showbiz star a man in politics in India seizes to be a man and assumes supermanhood. He is exempt from scrutiny, criticism, judgement and punishment. He is also exempt from standing in queues at any counters be it airport or the nearest shop, traffic lights when they turn red on our roads and income tax raids. His priviledges include first rows in auditoriums which he does not pay for, arriving late for his speeches and making the audience wait, making obnoxious remarks which he is never sorry for and generally giving the nation a long haul course in the merits of patience. A man in politics will certainly win the Golden Raspberry Award if introduced in India with a ‘professions’ category.

During the last elections there was a huge hue and cry about citizens wanting ‘real change’ in our political systems and processes. Independents stood and lost, English language national dailies ran campaigns to find the ‘leader’ among the masses, tea companies encouraged us to wake up and technology reigned across polling booths and central controls. Politics saw the arrival of the metro-sexual man adequately dimpled, gel haired and designer kurta-ed spewing profusely the goodness of wholesome Indian values. Princes spent nights at huts of the landless as Rolex watches dazzled against kulhars of chai sipped at roadside dhabas. Everybody kept their promises significantly vague and ‘youngistan’ sounded utterly devoted, proclaiming (as if they had discovered the words), “India needs change”. Media assumed that true democracy had arrived or at least, they said, is about to, right down the upcoming turn on the road. It’s been a while now. The new wine has settled itself in old bottles and nothing really has changed. A liquor brand got it right, Men will be men.

If the reader by now is thinking I have something against men in politics, well I certainly do. Not very different from what would show up in google as the top reasons why women find men unworthy. Breaking promises, not cleaning up after them and not asking for directions when they are obviously on the wrong track. However, mind you, this is all about ‘the man in politics’ and not about ‘the political man’ who I believe India produces by the hundreds. I admire the men who are writers, artists, film makers, not for profit professionals and activists who are influencing with their politics, the combined consciousness of this nation. With their utterances, positions, stances and actions they are making a difference. One has witnessed many a Gandhi in their midst. And probably many a Chanakya too! How I wish one could interchange their places with the career politicians. How I wish the editor asked me to write about them instead.