• Valson Thampu

Human consciousness swings between the twin poles of power and ideals. Very rarely does it stay stuck in the one or the other for any duration of time. The moment it reaches the peak of power it begins to feel the oppression that power entails. That activates the thirst for ideals; for ideals alone bridle the excesses of power. But there is a problem. Ideals are to be realized in this world of material realities where pragmatism reigns supreme. Matter resists idealism. It is cynical of the pursuit of perfection. The more materialistic or sensual we are, the more sceptical we grow about the feasibility of ideals. The world of power, our natural preference, cannot but be oppressive. Its victims dream of a Utopia wherein ideals are upheld in practice. Between these two poles -of power and idealism- swings the pendulum of the human destiny on earth.
Power, for all its seductiveness, presents a real problem to its wielders. Its benefits are almost entirely exclusive to the elite in every society. It has to be invested with general appeal. The question is: how? There is only one way: clothe power with frills of idealistic altruism! Hence it comes about that every ruling elite takes pains to hook the rank and file to the political myth that its prime agenda is to serve the common man. In the popularization of this canard nothing helps as much as the aura of religion. So, as the kings of England claimed, kings are ‘God’s deputies anointed’. The more pro-rich a Prime Minister is, likewise, the more eager he or she becomes to convince the people that he is as much their god-man as he is their Prime Minister.
The coalescence of political power and religious legitimacy began in secular India in right earnest with the Ram Janmabhoomi Movement. On 6 December 1992, Babri Masjid was brought down. The battle was won; but the war remains. Contradictions inevitable in power-wielding continue to crop up. The pursuit and consolidation of power necessitate the stark, at times brutal, violations of spiritual ideals and norms. Maryada Purushottam Ram is the Lord of righteousness. Truth is the core of righteousness. But truth is a liability in the power-and-profit-idolizing, post-truth brand of politics now in vogue. This catches the protagonists of this agenda in a vice. To capture and monopolize power, the help of falsehood has to be sought; especially given that the brand of governance in practice is indifferent to people’s welfare. Falsehood alone helps to deflect the attention of the people from the reality of the deprivations that plague them day-today: rising cost of living, sinking unemployment, grossly inadequate facilities for education and health, a general ambience of disharmony and despair. So, a slew of half-truths is broadcast to the public. All of these, and many more besides, are purely fictious and are at risk of being seen as such by any, except the willfully blind and bigoted. So, what is to be done?
The pseudo-religious metamorphosis, especially of the political icon, must be shifted to a higher gear. Starting as a politician who is fervent in his religious loyalty, and having donned the hybrid image of being a politician-cum-high priest, he now progresses to the apotheosis of being a demi-god. Significantly, Modi’s revelation that he is not ‘biological’ (by which he did not mean he was inorganic or metallic) but of being anointed and sent -all messianic words- by the Paramatma on an epic mission of heroic scope. In a pattern strongly reminiscent of Jesus’s Transfiguration on the mountain-top, Modi chose to make this self-revelation between the 4th and 5th phase of the polls to a chosen few of his adoring media disciples. This claim was further boosted by the formidable Sumbit Patra who outdid Modi by revealing in two successive fits of prophetic inspiration that Lord Jagannath himself is a ‘Modi bhakt’.
This should not be dismissed as a flight of conceit. In this Modi is in good company. From ancient of times, kings and emperors have claimed to be of divine descent. Many a Pharaoh of Egypt traced their origin to Re, the Sun god. Alexander the Great believed, and got others to believe, that he was the son of Zeus. Lord Ram is at once God and king. He is god-as-king. The secular complementary to this is Modi who is (if Patra is heeded) king-as-god.
Why is the secular ruler tempted to don the mantle of divinity? Well, according to Aristotle (ref. Politics), it offers the massive advantage of making the people believe blindly that the ruler, thus divinized, can do no harm. He can be trusted to be just, caring and compassionate. Like God, he too is infallible. So, whatever such a ruler does has to be right, and it is perfidious -read, anti-national) to criticize him. He is entitled to the blind faith and loyalty of the subjects even in the teeth of their misery and deprivation, which they feel obliged to endure patiently and fervently.
But, life is a pendulum. So, the good old problem resurfaces. No one, no people, can live the whole of their life in adulation and blind faith. The sting of real life will begin to hurt them sooner than later. Unlike in olden days, where generations were trained hard in the virtues of meek and sacrificial endurance, individuals today are more restive and demanding. The age of gods gave way to the age of kings long ago. The age of kings, in turn, has given way to the age of citizens. In such a context, the politically conjured up divinity of rulers keeps poorly. So, what is the way out? Well, secure and freeze power in impregnable monopoly to the exclusion of all contrary aspirations. This explains the brutal consolidation of one’s power base -as in ‘iz bar char sow par’ (this time over 400 seats). Four hundreds seems to be the mythological, a-historical benchmark to freeze the pendulum of India’s destiny in the horizon of the Parivar stranglehold.
The pieces of this jigsaw puzzle have been moved with astute anticipation, the decisive final stroke being the appointment of the two election commissioners. Already there are worrisome signs that the conduct of this massive exercise involving some 15 million personnel may not be without fear or favour. One cannot help remembering T. N. Sheshan on this occasion. Beyond the din and bustle of this enormously and avoidably stretched out election saga, the question remains: how come that the likes of Sheshan seem an extinct species today?