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Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Fractured Crown

Between Siddaramaiah’s grip on power and Shivakumar’s restless ambition, the Karnataka Congress is trapped in a succession spiral. Karnataka Karnataka today has two chief ministers - one by office, the other by expectation. The power tussle between Siddaramaiah and his deputy, D.K. Shivakumar, has slipped so completely into the open that the Congress’s ritual denials sound like political farce. A whispered ‘understanding’ after the 2023 victory that each would get the CM’s post after...

Fractured Crown

Between Siddaramaiah’s grip on power and Shivakumar’s restless ambition, the Karnataka Congress is trapped in a succession spiral. Karnataka Karnataka today has two chief ministers - one by office, the other by expectation. The power tussle between Siddaramaiah and his deputy, D.K. Shivakumar, has slipped so completely into the open that the Congress’s ritual denials sound like political farce. A whispered ‘understanding’ after the 2023 victory that each would get the CM’s post after two-and-a-half years has hardened into a public confrontation between a chief minister determined to finish five years and a deputy increasingly unwilling to wait. The recent breakfast meeting between the two men at Siddaramaiah’s residence was presented as a truce where the ‘high command’ was invoked as the final arbiter. “There are no differences between us,” Siddaramaiah insisted, twice for emphasis. Few were convinced and soon, Shivakumar was again hinting darkly at change. For weeks, Shivakumar’s loyalists have been holding meetings, mobilising legislators and making pilgrimages to Delhi to get the Congress high command to honour its promise. They insist that the Congress leadership agreed to a rotational chief ministership in 2023 and that November 2025 was always meant to mark Shivakumar’s ascent. The high command, for its part, has perfected the art of strategic vagueness by neither confirming nor denying the pact. This suggests that the Congress does not merely hesitate to act against Siddaramaiah, but increasingly lacks the capacity to do so. From the outset of his second innings, Siddaramaiah has given no signal of easing aside. As he approaches January 2026, poised to overtake D. Devaraj Urs as Karnataka’s longest-serving chief minister, the symbolism is unmistakable. The mantle of social justice politics that Urs once embodied now firmly sits on Siddaramaiah’s shoulders. And it is this social coalition that shields him. His fortress is AHINDA - minorities, backward classes and Dalits. Leaked figures from the unreleased caste census suggest that these groups together approach or exceed two-thirds of the state’s population. Lingayats and Vokkaligas, once electorally dominant, are rendered numerical minorities in this arithmetic. Siddaramaiah governs not merely as a Congress leader, but as the putative custodian of Karnataka’s demographic majority. That claim is reinforced through policy. Minority scholarships have been revived, contractor quotas restored, residential schools expanded. More than Rs. 42,000 crore has been earmarked for Scheduled Castes and Tribes. Kurubas, his own community, have been pitched for Scheduled Tribe status, with careful assurances that their elevation will not disadvantage others. DK Shivakumar brings organisational muscle, financial clout and control over the Vokkaliga heartland. In electoral campaigns, these are formidable assets. But in a confrontation with a leader who embodies a 60–70 percent social coalition, they are blunt instruments. The Congress high command understands this equation, even if it publicly pretends otherwise. It also remembers, uneasily, what Siddaramaiah did the last time his authority was constrained. In 2020, when the Congress–JD(S) coalition collapsed after 16 MLAs defected to Mumbai,13 of them hailed from Siddaramaiah’s camp. At the time, he held the post of coordination committee chairman. Instead, he emerged as the principal beneficiary of collapse, returning as Leader of the Opposition with a tighter grip on the party. If the Congress high command could not punish him then, it is doubtful it can coerce him now. Shivakumar’s predicament is thus more tragic than tactical. He is not battling a rival alone, but an entire political structure built to outlast him. The promised coronation looks increasingly like a mirage drifting just ahead of a man condemned to keep walking. For the Congress, the cost of this paralysis is already visible. A government elected on guarantees and governance is consumed by succession. The party’s authority is dissolving while its factions harden. The Congress returned to power in Karnataka after years in the wilderness, only to re-enact the same leadership dysfunction that has crippled it elsewhere. Regardless of whether Siddaramaiah survives this storm, it is becoming increasingly clear that the Congress cannot survive the slow corrosion of its command in one of the few states it holds today.

Echoes of History: How the 2024 Election Reflects America’s Political Legacy

Updated: Nov 7, 2024

2024 Election

As the 2024 United States Presidential election enters its final countdown, the political climate reverberates with echoes from past elections, not just with the tumultuous year of 1968, but also with significant contests throughout American history. The standoff between Donald Trump and Kamala Harris was both unique and deeply rooted in the historical narratives that have shaped American politics over the last century.


When he was compelled to fill Franklin D. Roosevelt’s gigantic shoes in April 1945, Harry Truman faced the monumental task of transitioning from wartime to peacetime America. But from being an ‘accidental president,’ Truman, with a sure and firm hand, proved he was more than up to the task, as evidenced by his decision to drop the atomic bomb and subsequent leadership during the Cold War. The 1948 election, where Truman defied expectations to defeat Thomas Dewey, serves as a reminder that underdog narratives resonate with voters, a dynamic at play in the current race.


Trump’s campaign similarly embodies an outsider ethos, appealing to a base that feels marginalized by traditional political elites. Truman’s “Give ’em hell, Harry” approach mirrors Trump’s combative style, suggesting that in times of uncertainty, the electorate often gravitates towards candidates who promise a break from conventional politics.


Dwight D. Eisenhower’s presidency (1953-1961) symbolized a return to stability following the turbulence of the Korean War and McCarthyism. His pragmatic leadership and focus on infrastructure, embodied in initiatives like the Interstate Highway System, resonated with a nation eager for progress. The 2024 election, however, contrasts sharply, as polarization has become a defining characteristic of American politics.


While Eisenhower promoted bipartisanship, the current contest is marked by fierce division. Bob Woodward’s exploration of the Trump administration in books like Fear and Rage illustrates how the norms of governance have shifted, making bipartisanship a rare commodity.


The 1960 election between John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon represented a tectonic shift in American politics, marked by the advent of television as a political tool. Kennedy’s charisma and youthful energy captivated voters, while Nixon’s experience and knowledge made him a formidable opponent. The influence of image in politics is more pronounced now than ever, with social media shaping public perception in real time.


Jimmy Carter’s presidency was defined by crises, from the oil embargo to the Iran hostage situation. His loss to Ronald Reagan in 1980 marked a significant ideological shift toward conservatism, a transition that reshaped American politics for decades. Reagan’s optimistic vision contrasted sharply with the malaise of the Carter years, illustrating how crises can prompt dramatic political realignments.


Today, Trump’s brand of populism reflects a similar reaction against the perceived failures of the political establishment, reminiscent of the discontent that propelled Reagan into office. The interplay of economic factors, national security, and cultural identity continues to shape electoral outcomes.


But it is 1968 that is most alluded to in the current context. A seismic year in American politics, 1968 was marked by the height of the Vietnam War, widespread civil unrest, and the assassination of prominent leaders like Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy. The Democratic National Convention became a flashpoint for national discontent, as young activists clashed with party officials over the direction of the country.


Central to this tumult was President Lyndon B. Johnson’s decision not to seek re-election, a move that underscored the deep fissures within the Democratic Party and the nation at large. Johnson, burdened by the weight of the Vietnam War and its unpopularity, recognized that his leadership was untenable in the face of escalating protests and a fracturing party. His withdrawal signalled a profound moment of reckoning, much like that faced by President Joe Biden in the lead-up to the 2024 election.


Biden’s eventual decision not to run, motivated by concerns over his age, falling approval ratings and the Democratic Party’s shifting dynamics, reflects a parallel to Johnson’s retreat. Both leaders were compelled to confront the realities of a political landscape no longer receptive to their visions. Just as Johnson’s exit left a vacuum filled by emerging leaders like Eugene McCarthy and Robert F. Kennedy, Biden’s withdrawal has opened the door for a new generation of Democratic candidates, including Harris, who are keen to redefine the party’s future.


Amidst this chaos, Richard Nixon had capitalized on the electorate’s yearning for stability, presenting himself as a candidate of law and order against the backdrop of disorder.


Contrast this with the current election cycle, where Trump, having already served a contentious term, returned to the political fray. His populist rhetoric, reminiscent of Nixon’s appeal to the “silent majority,” speaks to a base frustrated with the status quo, feeling economically and culturally marginalized. Trump’s ability to tap into this sentiment has cultivated a fervent following, echoing Nixon’s success in rallying disaffected voters in 1968.


Back then, the rise of television provided a new platform for candidates. In contrast, the 2024 election is unfolding in an era dominated by social media, where narratives shift in an instant, often based on misinformation. In this election, the immediacy of social media and the amplification of the cacophony of opinions has never been louder, reducing complex political discourse to sound bites and memes.


Race and identity have long been flashpoints in American elections, and the current cycle is no exception. The 1968 election saw the civil rights movement at a critical juncture, with African Americans fighting for equal rights amid widespread societal upheaval.


Fast forward to 2024, and the conversation around race has expanded to encompass issues of intersectionality and representation. Harris’s candidacy embodies the aspirations of a diverse electorate seeking greater representation in leadership. However, the Democratic Party grappled with internal tensions, as progressives pushed for a more radical agenda while moderates feared alienating centrist voters. In some ways, these echoed tensions seen during the Democratic primaries in 1968, where factions within the party clashed over the direction of their platform.


The economic backdrop against which elections have occurred was often as critical as the candidates themselves. In 1968, the U.S. was entering a period of stagflation, where inflation and unemployment surged, leading to discontent among the middle class. Nixon promised economic recovery and stability, capitalizing on fears surrounding the economic future.


Today, the U.S. faces economic challenges exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic and the growing wealth gap between the affluent and the struggling. Trump’s message of economic nationalism appeals to voters who feel left behind by globalization and technological change. His insistence on ‘America First’ resonates with those who view international trade agreements as threats to their livelihoods.


One thing that distinguished the current election from others was the sheer volume of events and controversies. While the political landscape cannot but resemble a high-octane soap opera with Trump in the running, the other side has had more than its fair share of wackiness. Many liberal commentators bemoaned, with apocalyptic fervour, that the very fabric of American society hung in the balance while declaring that the election could usher in an era of Armageddon should Trump reclaim power. Trump himself became the centre of this soap opera narrative, facing an assassination attempt that transformed him into an unlikely martyr for his supporters. Kamala Harris’ responses to pressing issues often revealed her discomfort and lack of depth on critical topics, creating a sense of vacuousness that has enveloped the American political discourse.


Each American election tells a story of changing political climates, serves as a reflection of the times, and a crucible through which the nation grapples with its values, aspirations, and divisions. This one was no different.

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