Politics of the street

The rising insensitivity of political confrontation

The sequence of events that have played out recently between the Trinamool Congress, the Left parties and the Congress-led Centre reflects sad realities both local to West Bengal and now endemic to all Indian politics. This most recent confrontation began when a Students Federation of India leader died in suspicious circumstances in West Bengal last week. The SFI, the youth wing of the Communist Party of India (Marxist), has blamed Mamata Banerjee's Trinamool Congress for Sudipto Gupta's death; thus, when Ms Banerjee and her finance minister, Amit Mitra, visited New Delhi on Tuesday, they were violently heckled outside the headquarters of the Planning Commission - although they could have avoided the protesters by simply not walking through them. Some Left leaders have condemned the SFI's violence, as is right; others, particularly those who owe their position in the party to student politics in Delhi's elite universities rather than to work on the ground, have been noticeably silent. Ms Banerjee's party reacted by attacking CPI(M) offices across West Bengal and even Presidency College; Ms Banerjee reacted by blaming the Congress at the Centre and in Delhi, with photographs splashed across the newspapers of her wagging her finger in the bemused face of Planning Commission Deputy Chairman Montek Singh Ahluwalia.

This sequence of events is sadly representative of the degree to which the politics of violence, intimidation and absolutism has taken over West Bengal. Perhaps, when Ms Banerjee was in opposition and facing an apparently indestructible Left for decades, there was no alternative to the politics of the street; but both she and her opponents have shown an inability to grow beyond that, and return a semblance of normality to West Bengal. That Ms Banerjee should now claim that it is Delhi that is unsafe is somewhat ridiculous, especially given the still-unexplained death of Sudipto Gupta.

The politics of the street is perhaps more marked in West Bengal than elsewhere, but it is clear that its language has nevertheless begun to infect political discourse throughout the country. The Nationalist Congress Party's Ajit Pawar, for example, has justifiably come under attack for coarsely mocking those in Maharashtra who were concerned about the lack of water for drinking and irrigation while water-guzzling sugarcane fields controlled by those close to the NCP and Mr Pawar continue to receive more than sufficient water. Mr Pawar and Raj Thackeray in Maharashtra, Narendra Modi in Gujarat and Beni Prasad Verma in Uttar Pradesh have all recently demonstrated that they are willing to cross the line between aggressive politics and coarseness. This is not likely to endear themselves to anyone beyond their core constituencies. Indians have traditionally expected their leaders to avoid crassness and crudeness; the politics and language of the street do not build winning coalitions. These leaders should all think again, for their own sake and for India's.