In the spectrum of Indian political parties, there are some whose persistent, dogged existence continues to baffle, especially in the absence of notable differentiation. For instance, in what way — philosophically — is the Nationalist Congress Party (NCP), formed on the basis of outrage over the foreign origins of Sonia Gandhi, any different from the Congress, especially as the two have cohabited in successive governments that were overseen and supervised by the self-same Sonia Gandhi?
Or the Janata Dal (Secular), or JD(S), whose defining feature —secularism — is fairly flexible? It has been in coalition with both the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and the Congress without bothering too much about the secular credentials of either.
The results today will decide whether the Janata Dal (Secular) will endure as a party in the days to come or it will blur and just fade away. But in the search for the appropriate punctuation mark for the JD(S) — comma, full stop, or exclamation mark — a look at how the party came about and what it has come to represent in Karnataka politics is also necessary.
Congress leader Mani Shankar Aiyar’s taunting description of the JD(S) founder, HD Deve Gowda, as a “fumble harmer” (against Mr Deve Gowda’s own appellation of himself as a “humble farmer”) was clever but it may have done the former Prime Minister an injustice. Sugata Srinivasaraju’s brilliant biography of Mr Deve Gowda describes how a man who had little or no landed property began a political career by contesting a taluka election in 1962, the influences that shaped his political life (he adored Morarji Desai and Chandra Shekhar) and the complicated relationship he had with them, and his connection to land, water, and agriculture. His career was built in Karnataka: And not on the foundations of ideology but caste. While Ram Manohar Lohia and Madhu Limaye were arguing for social justice, he was living the struggle, cast as he was a Shudra in Karnataka’s caste system. His relationship with political rivals as well as mentors was extremely complex: Ranging from Devaraj Urs, the urbane pipe-smoking chief minister whom he (Deve Gowda), as leader of the Opposition, opposed bitterly but also admired; to the bitter battles involving betrayal and political skulduggery with Ramakrishna Hegde; and his “cultural” differences with the Congress and Sitaram Kesri.
But how he launched the JD(S) in 1999 is a story of a political struggle against all odds. Mr Deve Gowda stepped down from prime ministership and lost the 1999 general election from Hassan. The Janata Dal had splintered and many had gone across to the Janata Dal (United). Hegde had launched his own Lok Shakti and had joined up with the BJP in a deal that helped the latter enormously, especially in north Karnataka. Between then and 2002, when he was elected MP from the Kanakapura Lok Sabha seat, Mr Deve Gowda managed to lift his southward political career up by the bootstraps and became kingmaker in the Assembly elections in 2004. He made it clear he would not be averse to an alliance with the Congress, and went on attacking the BJP during the campaign. So the minorities were greatly enthused. In the ensuing election, the BJP had 75 seats, the Congress 65, the JD(S) 57, and the others 27. The Congress and the JD(S) joined up, and Dharam Singh, of the Congress, became chief minister.
But remnants of the Ramakrishna Hegde-led Lok Shakti, who had joined the Congress, could not get over their distrust of Mr Deve Gowda and dislike of his style of functioning.
In 2006, Dharam Singh resigned. Rather than face elections, the JD(S)’s first son, H D Kumaraswamy, struck a half-and-half deal with the BJP — that he would rule for the first half of the government’s tenure and the BJP would get the second. The BJP, with 75 MLAs now, became the tail that wagged the dog to the JD(S)’s 57.
The first to gasp in disbelief were the minorities. At first, Mr Deve Gowda claimed his son had broken his heart and done a deal with the BJP behind his back. But this phase lasted precisely one week. At the end of the day, blood is thicker than water and Mr Deve Gowda sided with his son. In the process he lost the faith of the minorities.
Mr Kumaraswamy began his tenure trying to carve out an independent place for the JD(S). He spent nights in the huts of Dalits (although he carried his own commode, mattress, and mineral water), talked to minorities to clear the air, and sought newer political pastures. Then he decided to dump the BJP by denying it the chance to have its chief minister under the previously agreed arrangement. When the 2008 Assembly elections came around, predictably, an ambitious BJP and a weak and tremulous Congress were all that was left. From 57 MLAs in the Assembly, Mr Deve Gowda came down to 17.
In 2013, because of the BJP’s shenanigans, B S Yediyurappa split from the BJP and formed his own party, the JD(S) got 40 seats, the same as the BJP. In 2018, a coalition government was formed under his supervision. But when Mr Deve Gowda contested election in 2019, he was 87 and lost. He was returned to Parliament via the Rajya Sabha uncontested. But he is — probably — not going to fight another election. This raises questions about the future nature and politics of the JD(S): And we will likely know by close of business, today.