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23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Federal Farce

India’s federal compact was never meant to resemble street theatre. Yet that is precisely what unfolded in Tamil Nadu and Kerala, where opening sessions of the Assemblies degenerated into petty skirmishes between Raj Bhavans and elected governments. Governors deserve scrutiny for overreach. But what played out on January 20 says as much about the studied belligerence of two state governments that have turned constitutional convention into a contact sport. Start with Tamil Nadu. Governor R.N....

Federal Farce

India’s federal compact was never meant to resemble street theatre. Yet that is precisely what unfolded in Tamil Nadu and Kerala, where opening sessions of the Assemblies degenerated into petty skirmishes between Raj Bhavans and elected governments. Governors deserve scrutiny for overreach. But what played out on January 20 says as much about the studied belligerence of two state governments that have turned constitutional convention into a contact sport. Start with Tamil Nadu. Governor R.N. Ravi’s decision to walk out of the Assembly without delivering his address was dramatic, ill-judged and constitutionally questionable. But the stage for that walkout was carefully set by the ruling DMK. The Speaker’s insistence that the Governor read only what the Cabinet had approved, delivered with the pugnacious aside that “only MLAs can express opinion in the House,” reflected not reverence for convention but contempt for dialogue. Tamil Nadu’s government treated it as an opportunity to box the Governor into a corner and then feign outrage when he refused to play along. The subsequent statements from Raj Bhavan, disputing the state’s extravagant investment claims and invoking disrespect to the national anthem, only deepened the ugliness. But it is worth asking why such disputes routinely explode in Tamil Nadu. The answer lies less in New Delhi’s alleged conspiracies than in Chennai’s habit of governing by provocation. The DMK has discovered that permanent confrontation with the Governor serves its political narrative as it keeps the Centre in the dock. Kerala’s episode was no less revealing. Governor Rajendra Vishwanath Arlekar delivered his address and left, only for Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan to return to the House to announce solemnly that the Governor had tampered with Cabinet-approved paragraphs. The offending omissions concerned fiscal federalism and pending Bills, subjects dear to the Left Democratic Front’s sense of grievance. Vijayan’s declaration that the Cabinet’s version would prevail was less a constitutional clarification than a performative assertion of supremacy. Governors are not meant to rewrite policy. But nor are Assemblies meant to retroactively overrule a Governor’s address by executive fiat. Kerala’s government could have placed its objections on record or sought judicial clarity. Instead, it chose to dramatize the dispute, turning the Assembly into a forum for moral grandstanding. Together, these episodes expose a deeper malaise. State governments, particularly those ruled by parties opposed to the BJP, have begun to treat Governors not as constitutional functionaries to be constrained by process, but as political foils to be publicly humiliated. The irony is rich. Tamil Nadu and Kerala style themselves as guardians of constitutional morality, federalism and democratic norms. Yet, by weaponizing Assembly proceedings against Governors, they weaken the very conventions they claim to defend. None of this absolves Governors who stray into partisan commentary or obstructionism. India has no shortage of such examples. But federalism cannot be sustained if elected governments respond to irritation with institutional vandalism. Assemblies are not arenas for settling scores with Raj Bhavans.

Satyacha Morcha and Maharashtra’s Political Faultlines

The latest agitation has given Maharashtra’s embattled Opposition a common cause, but it remains to be seen whether it sparks a movement or fizzles out.

When this edition of ‘The Perfect Voice’ reaches readers, both the public and the media will be gearing up to cover the ‘Satyacha Morcha’ led by the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS) and the opposition Maha Vikas Aghadi (MVA). Predictably, the spotlight will be on Raj Thackeray, who appears to be playing his cards with calculated precision.


For now, the ruling party seems unsure how to respond. Its saving grace is that the common citizen has yet to join the agitation. Should that change, the government could find itself in serious trouble.


A decade ago, during the Congress-led coalition government in 2012–13, the Anna Andolan against corruption captured the national imagination. The movement drew massive public participation and, in turn, paved the way for the BJP’s sweeping victory in 2014. Eleven years later, another agitation—this time targeting the Election Commission and the ruling BJP—is taking shape, backed by a united opposition. Yet, it lacks the spark and traction of its predecessor.


Rahul Gandhi’s Bharat Jodo Yatra two years ago generated momentum but failed to translate into votes or power. For the past several months, he has pushed the ‘Vote Chor, Gaddi Chodd’ narrative, hoping to connect with ordinary voters. Political observers believe this rhetoric could resonate in the upcoming Bihar elections. If it does, it may mark a turning point for both Gandhi and the Congress.


The 2029 general elections could prove challenging for the BJP and the NDA. In Maharashtra, however, the political landscape remains distinct from the rest of the country.


Opposition dilemma

In Maharashtra, Devendra Fadnavis has become the principal target, just as Narendra Modi is at the Centre. With local body and civic polls nearing, parties long out of power sense an opening. If allegations of ‘vote theft’ do gain traction, the Opposition stands to benefit.


Yet, the Opposition’s weakness lies in its lack of a credible face. Voters may well ask if they are really voting for a party or a patchwork of leaders? Experience shows that when fragmented alliances win, internal rivalries soon breed instability. In contrast, the BJP projects clarity - Modi at the Centre, Fadnavis in the State, leaving little doubt about leadership.


The MNS factor adds complexity. Its long-standing anti–non-Marathi image, now extended even to Gujaratis, makes Congress and the NCP wary. Sharing a stage on ‘vote theft’ may be tactically useful, but aligning too closely risks alienating key voters. The Opposition must decide who truly leads the common man, and whether its alliance with Raj Thackeray strengthens or splinters its cause.


The Satyacha Morcha essentially is a fusion of frustration, political opportunity and strategic positioning. Raj Thackeray’s Maharashtra Navnirman Sena, long seen as fiery but electorally marginal, is seeking renewed relevance by joining hands with the MVA. Together, they aim to expose alleged discrepancies in Maharashtra’s voter rolls and demand transparency in electronic voting.


Rallying cry

Its political weight lies as much in timing as in unity. Raj Thackeray’s claim of 9.6 million fake voters has jolted the political landscape ahead of crucial municipal polls in Mumbai, Pune, Nagpur, and Nashik. Uddhav Thackeray has warned that unless the Election Commission acts, the Opposition may consider boycotting civic elections. For the first time in years, disparate Opposition forces appear to have found a rallying cry that could redefine Maharashtra’s urban politics.


For the ruling party, the Satyacha Morcha poses a twin challenge. It compels the BJP to defend the sanctity of elections while offering the opposition a rare unifying platform. Raj Thackeray’s sharp rhetoric and rapport with the Marathi middle class lend the agitation a pulse that routine protests often lack. His plain-speaking style appeals to urban voters disillusioned by inflation, job stagnation and civic decay.


Yet, public enthusiasm remains uncertain. Unlike the Anna Hazare era, today’s voters are more sceptical, fatigued by blame games and hollow promises. The Opposition hopes for a groundswell, but it has yet to link its message to everyday struggles. The Morcha’s success will depend on whether it can transcend slogans and turn into a genuine civic movement.


The BJP, meanwhile, is treading carefully. Devendra Fadnavis has opted for restraint, betting that the storm may pass if ignored. But the protest gathers momentum, his silence could be read as guilt or arrogance. The party’s internal test lies in maintaining cohesion among allies and ensuring local frustrations don’t swell into a state-wide charge of negligence.


Maharashtra’s tangled coalition politics makes the situation even trickier. The Eknath Shinde-led Shiv Sena, Ajit Pawar’s NCP faction, and the BJP each have much at stake. For the Shinde government, born amid charges of betrayal, the accusation of ‘vote theft’ cuts deep, threatening to erode its legitimacy at both state and national levels.


For ordinary citizens, the concern is much simpler: will this agitation improve their lives, or is it just more political theatre? To a street vendor in Dadar or a civic worker in Thane, democracy is measured in jobs, safety, and public services. If the Satyacha Morcha can link electoral integrity to these everyday realities, it might awaken public participation. If not, it risks being dismissed as another pre-election spectacle.


The movement also tests whether Maharashtra’s opposition can evolve from a reactive coalition into a credible alternative. Raj Thackeray’s role is pivotal. His career has swung between fiery populism and strategic retreat, but this time he seems aware that the stakes extend beyond himself. By championing electoral fairness, he is seeking both moral authority and renewed political relevance. The days ahead will show whether this agitation matures into a movement or whether it turns out to be just another flash-in-the-pan.


(The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)

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