The most watched seat in India is the one next to Manmohan Singh. Sharad Pawar’s sitting in it, everyone leaked breathessly as the first Cabinet meeting after Pranab Mukherjee kicked himself upstairs concluded. But wait, the prime minister actually considers P Chidambaram as his second-in-command. No, it’s actually A K Antony who’s number two. Mr Pawar’s party, which tends to think of his “stature” as its prime national policy objective, has predictably taken objection to this typically-UPA uncertainty – and, as predictably, subsequently denounced that inference as “petty”, insisting that they have other, unspecified concerns with the Congress’ coalition management. Sure. The only thing we know for certain is that this terrifically entertaining government can create dramatic tension even out of seating arrangements.
Perhaps it was this meaningless drama that was the last straw for Rahul Gandhi, who said in his typically off-hand manner that he had decided to up his role in the Congress and the government. Of course, he presented that decision in the passive voice — “the decision has been taken,” he said, “the timing is up to my two bosses, the PM and the party president.” This had better mean that he is entering the government — instead of, say, deciding to call himself “working president” instead of “general secretary”. If so, questions of who the government’s number two is need no longer be asked.
As I have argued before, Mr Gandhi’s diffidence about leadership posts has been excessive. He has, for too long, pottered about India’s villages feebly hoping some alternative will present itself, allowing him to continue to exercise power without responsibility. Addressing Muslim members of the Youth Congress, his frustration was evident: he reportedly complained that “at AICC sessions during the independence movement, there used to be portraits of 30-40 leaders who had the calibre to become the prime minister. We do not have leaders of that stature today.” This is probably untrue. Yet it is obvious to even the most casual observer that no alternative will present himself or herself from within the Congress until Mr Gandhi is given his shot at power. He himself seems to have been the last person to figure this out.
New Delhi now is abuzz with overlapping, conflicting rumours: Mr Gandhi will strengthen Dr Singh; no, he will undermine him from within. He will take the defence portfolio; no, the shadow of Bofors hangs too low over his family. He is too “inexperienced” for the finance portfolio; he will be made Leader of the Lok Sabha; he will displace Jairam Ramesh from rural development without sufficient compensation. Each has different implications for the Cabinet reshuffle everyone believes is imminent, and for which so many of us long — if just on the assumption that that pleasant Mr Krishna will be sent back to Karnataka so he doesn’t continue to run a ministry that takes foreign-affairs guidance from Arnab Goswami’s outrage-topic of the week. Oh, and that Mr Chidambaram is moved out of a ministry he should never have been given. Reform, in the home ministry, relies on persuasion, as states run law and order. Mr Chidambaram, whom even his greatest admirers would not describe as trusted by his political opponents – Indrajit Hazra recently described him as a “Sith lord in a veshti” – is not the best choice for that position. (Nor, incidentally, for a finance ministry whose top priority should be hammering out a compromise with the states on the goods and services tax.)
Frankly, I don’t care what Rahul Gandhi chooses to do, as long as he takes on a real job — thus hopefully ending the endless stories of party-government bickering that deface our newspapers. Of course, we will also face a preview of the questions likely to be bellowed come 2014. Is not the “inexperienced” Mr Gandhi taking a position not due to him as a “political novice”? This accusation is only made more tiresome, and more silly, by Mr Gandhi’s own apparent belief in it — judging, at least, by his reluctance to put himself forward.
Just how silly is it? Let’s play compare-the-countries. In 2014, Mr Gandhi will have 10 years of legislative experience, and – if he enters the Cabinet today – two years of executive experience. Who leads the other big democracies? In the United States, Barack Obama had 12 years of legislative experience when he became president, and no executive experience. Vladimir Putin had 10 years of executive experience before he became Czar of All the Russias, with no legislative time. OK, those are presidential systems, so let’s look at the Westminster democracies: In the United Kingdom, David Cameron had nine years in Parliament when he became prime minister, none in administration. Australia’s Julia Gillard had 12 years, with two in the Cabinet. Stephen Harper had spent only eight years as an opposition MP when he became Canada’s prime minister. Mr Gandhi’s reluctance and his critics’ vehemence are, when seen in this context, quite ridiculous.
The next election will undoubtedly feature the Congress splattering portraits of Rahul Gandhi everywhere. If so, the least he owes those who will be forced to choose between him and, say, a Time-endorsed Narendra Modi is a chance to assess him on the basis of more than pieties leaked from closed-door meetings with college students. When I became a man, I put away childish things, it says in I Corinthians, and refusing the formal accoutrements of power looks childish. Get thee to government, Mr Gandhi. Be a support to Dr Singh, and show us how you deal with administrative, and not just political, power.