Rahul Gandhi paradox: He is the ‘system’ he says is flawed

For a few minutes on Sunday, listening to Sonia Gandhi make her impassioned speech at the Ramlila Grounds in defence of ’economic reforms’ and of the embattled Congress party, it sounded an awful lot like the Congress president had momentarily found lyrical expression in an operatic tune from her native Italy. Sonia Gandhi’s shrill, tremulous voice, which has frequently come in for mirthful commentary, particularly when she negotiates the intricacies of the Hindi language, rose in cadence and intensity like that of a Maria Callas belting out an O Mio Babbino Caro, conveying extreme depth of emotion and pathos.[caption id=“attachment_514833” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  Congress general secretary Rahul Gandhi. PTI[/caption] As Sonia Gandhi hectored the Opposition—and the unmentionable Arvind Kejriwal and Subramanian Swamy—for the many allegations of corruption that have been levelled against the UPA government, and, increasingly, her son-in-law, her son, and herself, her anguished voice soared over the Ramlila Grounds and acquired a life of its own. In its fitful shrillness, it abruptly jolted the mobilised crowd of ‘men in pink’ (aka the Ghulabi gang) into wakefulness from the languid stupor that had been induced by the free snacks (made of pure ghee) that they had been provided and the Thai fruit juices they had been steadily plied with. Some of the other foot soldiers who had been corralled in aid of the Congress, and who spent a lazy Sunday afternoon playing cards at the grounds, were sufficiently distracted by the plaintive wails emanating from the stage to look up from the hand they’d been dealt with. But once their initial apprehension—that an army of cats were being subjected to ritual strangling onstage—were put to rest, their card games appeared to continue apace. Sonia Gandhi’s aria may have momentarily transported the philistine lotus-eaters of the Congress into the high art world of an Italian operatic performance, but her son Rahul Gandhi’s thunderous exertions at the rally decidedly plumbed the depths of low art. If his speech bore a resemblance to any kind of opera, it was of the soapy kind, the one that provides chewing gum for the minds of confirmed couch potatoes, come evening time. Rahul Gandhi’s speech was a riddle wrapped in an enigma. Evidently looking to feed off the widespread popular anger directed at the corrupt ‘system’ (which anti-corruption activists like Arvind Kejriwal and others have channelled effectively), Rahul Gandhi took off on a tear projecting himself and the Congress as the champion of the aam aadmi in taking on this ‘system’. That is, of course, an admirable objective – except that Rahul Gandhi appeared to have overlooked the 800-pound gorilla on the stage: that he, and the Congress party, were both consummate ‘insiders’ in the system that he was railing against. Perhaps it hasn’t been brought to Rahul Gandhi’s notice, but the Congress has been pretty much ruling India for all but a handful of the 65 years since independence. And he, as the latest in a long line of dynasts who have presided over the destiny of the Congress and the country (considerably for the worse, it needs to be said), is the standard bearer of that legacy. Which makes him a significant cog in the venal ‘system’ that he today rants about. It appeared on Sunday that for all his theatrical aggression at his stump speech, Rahul Gandhi, the cameo artist (as Salman Khurshid once referred to him), was into a bit of role play. And the role he was playing was that of Arvind Kejriwal, the angry middle-aged man who has been taking on the ‘system’ in his own way. It showed in Rahul Gandhi’s fiery rhetoric, and also in the topi preferences of his supporters, who sported Kejriwal-esque headwear, complete with ‘Main hoon…’ political slogans. Yet, such a tack from Rahul Gandhi ignores one stark fact. When Arvind Kejriwal says he wants to bring down ’the system’, he is in effective saying that he wants to exercise the Samson Option – and bring the entire political edifice down on our collective heads. Sure, not all of us may empathise with that emotion: the more queasy among us may feel that such a strategy is born of an anarchist mindset, one that believes that another world is possible, but for that to be born, the one that we have must be razed to the ground. But even so, one can understand Kejriwal’s political motive, and acknowledge his locus standi: he is, after all, a consummate outsider to the political ‘system’. And as his recent string of exposes, which have shown him up to be an equal-opportunity firebomb-thrower, demonstrate, he and his rag-tag army are looking to storm the citadels of power in order to create political space for himself and his fledgling political organisation. And the political world that Rahul Gandhi inhibits—and profits from—is the ‘system’ that the real ‘outsiders’ like Kejriwal want to bring down. Rahul is evidently looking to opportunistically milk the anger that is boiling over on the streets. But his Sunday act as the “insider” doubling as the “outsider” convinces no one other than faithful worshippers of the dynasty.