Rahul's ideas of India

Sugata Srinivasaraju's book explores Rahul Gandhi's ideas on violence, power, religion, spirituality, democracy, and the Constitution, offering both fascinating and problematic insights

Strange Burdens: The Politics and Predicaments of Rahul Gandhi

Author: Sugata Srinivasaraju

Publisher: Penguin Random House

Pages: 302

Price: Rs 699

Let us be clear. This book is not a biography of Rahul Gandhi. Nor is it an uncritical hagiography designed to serve a political agenda. It is an interpretation of the politics of Rahul Gandhi. And it navigates extremely hazardous territory with literary erudition, kindness and humanity.

The landscape is hard to traverse because there is so little to go on. There is no authorised biography of Rahul Gandhi and although his party, family and friends have tried to put his politics in perspective, the onslaught of derision, ridicule and political dumbing down (from opponents both on the other side, from within the Congress, and gratuitously from the media) is so pervasive that it is easy to fall into the trap of deciding that’s what defines the essential Rahul Gandhi.

Of course, it doesn’t. You have to go by what Rahul Gandhi says and believes. In the book, the author, on multiple occasions, suggests that given the circumstances on the ground, Rahul should, maybe, have said something else more appropriate. This has the advantage of hindsight. But the book is, nevertheless, an exploration of Rahul Gandhi’s ideas  — on violence; his understanding of power and his relationship with it; religion and spirituality, both public and private; the idea of a nation, democracy and the Constitution; and the much-repeated idea of India. The author analyses Rahul’s speeches, public statements, interviews (including two, given to the author) in India’s broader cultural, intellectual and political context.

Few others in politics have been victims of as much violence as the Gandhi children. And if you look around in politics, there are many who have sanctioned violence, even perpetrated it, but have never been its victims. The book explores the way Rahul (and Priyanka) dealt with loss, grief, rage, culpability and reached forgiveness. It records poignantly how the phone came to represent the hole that blew Rahul Gandhi apart when a friend of his father’s called him in the US where he was studying, to inform him that Rajiv Gandhi had been killed. We know Priyanka met in a jail in Tamil Nadu, those who were convicted of conspiring to kill her father. But for the first time, the book reveals correspondence between Sonia and Nalini. Nalini refers to Sonia as “Dearest Mother”. Forgiveness is a continuing theme in Rahul’s politics.

Rahul’s understanding of power is a problem. He did not choose the Congress party — it was bequeathed to him. How did he relate to the bequest? First, he tried his own experiments, like the primaries where the putative candidate would be “elected” by the lowest rung of the party and make his way up. But the traditional control of families over the party led to limited success. And there was the issue of Sonia Gandhi continuing to lead the party leading to a “show me the man and I’ll show you the rule” kind of situation.

Then Rahul opted out of running the party altogether, though he remained a ubiquitous point of authority: At the party’s Udaipur meeting, it was he who flagged the unacceptability of Ashok Gehlot remaining chief minister as he contested party presidentship. Then, although Mallikarjun Kharge was appointed party president, he continued to stay as leader of the Opposition in the Rajya Sabha. The party also dealt unforgivingly and not entirely democratically with members of the G23 ginger group. Confusing? Not being able to quiz Rahul on all these – they represented glaring contradictions to external observers – is a limitation of the book. The book suggests he doesn’t want power and in fact, views it with distaste. And yet. And yet.

Adding to the conundrum is the fact that from 2014, the Congress went on losing elections. You could argue that democratic politics has to, must, throw up a mix of those who represent ideas and values as much as those who find favour with the masses. Ram Manohar Lohia lost as many elections as he won and yet his ideas continue to shape politics. Mahatma Gandhi and Jayaprakash Narayan fought no elections at all. Winning elections is not the only currency of power. But Rahul had the Congress party to run. The book says: “If Rahul Gandhi had to become the principal custodian of the Congress’s values, then he had to make an explicit statement that declared that he’ll never accept executive power, like Mahatma Gandhi embraced the idea”. But he didn’t and he can’t — not the least because of the pressure brought to bear by others in the party who are interested in power.

Rahul’s ideas on religion and spirituality as explained by the author are absorbing. He makes a claim on organised Hinduism — we see him as a Shiva bhakt, a janeudhari  Hindu, a worshipper of Shakti chanting Jai Mata Di and a respectful recipient of blessings in orthodox temples in Gujarat and Tamil Nadu. At the same time, he is fascinated by Buddhism and asceticism. So, the contradiction is: Rahul seems to believe in plurality. But the Congress response to the Bharatiya Janata Party’s charge of Rahul being an “election Hindu” is to match it with caste denomination. “A relatively better response would be to seek refuge in the undistinguished plebeian shrines of millions of (local) gods” the author says. For that’s what India is.

The only complaint with the book is that it does not go into the grievances of those who left the Congress citing Rahul as the reason — from Ghulam Nabi Azad to Himanta Biswa Sarma, from Sushmita Dev to Mamata Banerjee to Amrinder Singh and Kapil Sibal. We’ve heard their side of the story. Another book — equally beautifully written — will maybe tell us Rahul’s.