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By:

Abhijit Joshi

31 August 2024 at 10:09:24 am

Sunetra Pawar’s Trial by Fire

The greatest challenge before Maharashtra’s first Deputy CM is not merely to govern, but to forge a political identity that is unmistakably her own. Politics often rewards the loudest voice. The modern political arena thrives on sharp sound bites, relentless television appearances and instant responses on social media. Yet, some leaders begin their journey not with thunder but with quiet resolve. Maharashtra’s Deputy Chief Minister Sunetra Pawar finds herself at precisely such a moment. In...

Sunetra Pawar’s Trial by Fire

The greatest challenge before Maharashtra’s first Deputy CM is not merely to govern, but to forge a political identity that is unmistakably her own. Politics often rewards the loudest voice. The modern political arena thrives on sharp sound bites, relentless television appearances and instant responses on social media. Yet, some leaders begin their journey not with thunder but with quiet resolve. Maharashtra’s Deputy Chief Minister Sunetra Pawar finds herself at precisely such a moment. In recent days, she has been drawn into an avoidable political controversy after the Maharashtra Congress dubbed her as “Gungi Gudiya” (“mute doll”) following a media interaction in which she chose not to answer journalists' questions. The remark quickly snowballed into a wider debate about the language used against women occupying high constitutional office. It also revived memories of the same epithet once directed at late Congress Prime Minister Indira Gandhi before she went on to become one of India’s most formidable political figures. Until recently, Sunetra Pawar remained largely outside the glare of frontline politics. She was better known in Baramati for her work in education, healthcare and social welfare than for fiery speeches or electoral campaigns. Her public image was that of a composed, private individual who preferred institution-building to political theatre. Political Limelight That changed in 2024 when she entered electoral politics, contesting the Lok Sabha election from Baramati against her sister-in-law, Supriya Sule. Though unsuccessful, she later entered Parliament through the Rajya Sabha, where she quietly focused on organisational responsibilities and social initiatives rather than cultivating a high-profile parliamentary persona. The defining moment came in January this year with the tragic death of her husband, Ajit Pawar, one of the state’s most experienced and influential political leaders. His passing created a political vacuum within the Nationalist Congress Party. At a moment of uncertainty, Sunetra Pawar stepped forward to shoulder responsibilities that few had imagined she would inherit so soon. Within days, she became Maharashtra’s first woman Deputy Chief Minister - a milestone in the state’s political history. But such transitions are rarely straightforward. Political parties often struggle when towering personalities disappear, and observers had predicted that the NCP might witness internal divisions. Maintaining organisational cohesion during a leadership transition is itself a considerable achievement, particularly in a state where political loyalties are often fluid and intensely personalised. However, much of the public conversation around Sunetra Pawar continues to be framed through comparisons with Ajit Pawar. The contrast is obvious. Ajit Pawar was known for his decisiveness, administrative grip and unmistakable public presence. Sunetra Pawar, by contrast, has generally remained soft-spoken, measured and reluctant to engage in unnecessary confrontation. Her supporters see restraint, dignity and maturity but critics see hesitation and insufficient public engagement. Neither assessment is entirely unfair. That is why the recent Beed incident acquired significance beyond a routine press interaction. When reporters sought her comments on law and order and she chose to leave without responding, the political vacuum was quickly filled by her opponents. The Congress’s “Gungi Gudiya” remark predictably provoked protests from the NCP and criticism from leaders across the ruling alliance, many of whom argued that such language diminished the dignity of a woman holding one of the state’s highest offices. Sunetra Pawar’s own response was notably restrained. She said she would offer a “fitting reply at the appropriate time.” The remark was consistent with the temperament she has displayed since entering public life. Leadership is ultimately judged not only by composure but also by visibility. Every major political figure eventually reaches a point where inherited legitimacy must give way to earned authority. Indira Gandhi had to step beyond Jawaharlal Nehru's towering legacy before she was recognised in her own right. Rajiv Gandhi, too, had to emerge from the shadow of Indira Gandhi while navigating extraordinary political circumstances. Their journeys were shaped by vastly different contexts, but they illustrate a universal truth: every successor must eventually become an original. Sunetra Pawar now confronts a similar, though far more modest, challenge. She must cease to be viewed primarily as “Ajit Pawar's wife” and come into her own. Distinct Identity That transformation cannot be achieved through symbolism alone. After all, lasting political stature is built through decisions, administrative outcomes and public confidence. To her credit, she has remained engaged with governance, regularly attending official programmes, reviewing development projects and interacting with citizens instead of chasing daily headlines. Yet the next stage of leadership demands something more. She will need to engage more confidently with the media, articulate her government's priorities in her own voice, and establish an administrative record that reflects independent judgement rather than inherited expectations. These are demanding tasks, but they are neither unusual nor unattainable. It is still too soon to measure Sunetra Pawar’s political legacy. She assumed responsibility at a moment when both her party and the state were adjusting to an unexpected transition, and has so far navigated that passage with composure. Yet political inheritance has a limited shelf life. While quietness, in itself, is neither a virtue nor a weakness, it acquires meaning only when it is accompanied by clarity and conviction. If Sunetra Pawar is to leave an enduring imprint on Maharashtra's politics, it will not be by echoing the style of Ajit Pawar or by answering every taunt from her opponents. It will be by developing a public voice that reflects her own instincts, her own priorities and, ultimately, her own leadership. (The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)

Why is Mamata Seeing Ghost of Bangladesh?

Updated: Oct 21, 2024

Why is Mamata Seeing Ghost of Bangladesh?

Mamata is seeing a ghost of Bangladesh behind the massive outrage and waves of protest over rape and murder of the trainee doctor. And the reasons are many.

It’s been over a fortnight. Yet with each passing day the voice of protest is getting louder and stronger. From the streets of Kolkata it’s pouring into roads of hinterland. The cry for justice for a rape victim has consolidated into a wail of demands to set a lot of wrongdoings right. Here in lies the fear and trepidation. Wasn’t the issue that brought the youth of Bangladesh out on the thoroughfares a simple, innocent one of quota reform?

The chief minister of Bengal, known for understanding the pulse of people better than many, was quick to read the signages floating in the political horizon.

The most obvious reason for her to be tensed is that both the regime change in Bangladesh and the mass protest in Bengal, were student-driven to begin with. The two incidents---end of 15 year old Sheikh Hasina government and turbulence in West Bengal, over the heinous crime, falling back to back, the first on August 5th and the latter from August 9th onwards, give natural scope for comparisons. More so, because in both the cases the movement strayed beyond an affected constituency to include aggrieved people at large, cutting across socio-economic demography. If the quota reform protest started by students in Bangladesh became a mass uprising against an autocratic regime, the campaign demanding justice for the rape victim and overall safety and security of women in Mamata Banerjee’s Bengal soon snowballed into a movement of no-confidence against the government. Slogans--”Mamata must resign” also got floated in social media much in line with the call for ouster of Sheikh Hasina. In fact “Resignation of Hasina” became the single point agenda into which all other fringe demands coalesced.

Incidentally, even before people started drawing parallels, that there could be a thread of commonality in the way the upheaval in Bangladesh and Bengal played out, Mamata was quick to point out that the Opposition were trying to pull off a Bangladesh by politicizing the tragic incident: “A coordinated approach has been executed by the BJP and the CPIM with support from the Centre to defame Bengal and exploit the situation....They want to make a Bangladesh here. They are taking cues from student unrest in Bangladesh and are attempting to capture similarly. I have no longing for the chair. I came here to serve people.”

Not only Mamata, her political lieutenants are consistently equating the turmoil in Bengal with the mayhem in Bangladesh. Cabinet minister for North Bengal development Udayan Guha threatened to take stern action against those, who would be trying to exploit the situation by emulating a Bangladesh like movement. “ Even after the hospital was vandalised, the police did not open fire on anyone. The police will not allow a Bangladesh type situation. We will not allow Bengal to turn into Bangladesh, Guha thundered.

Is the government’s fear unfounded?

Apart from the similarities on ground zero, as to how and where the future course of events are heading to, there are ample reasons for Bengal to mull on-- as to what led to a Bangladesh like boiling point. To begin with, it’ll be appropriate to talk of Bangladesh and the prevailing situation, that made the students’ protest become big in magnitude. The students were out on the streets because of a high reservation in public jobs. Unemployment and stagnant job market in private sector coupled with a high rate of inflation drove the educated youth to rebel against the government.

But soon the students found enormous number of sympathisers, who were equally at the receiving end. According to Bangladesh citizens, the last two terms of the Sheikh Hasina government were a mockery of democracy. Even elections would be compromised. As Hasina grew from strength to strength, she politicized institutions. The rank and file of police owed allegiance to the ruling dispensation. Extortion, harrassment and raids by police and people in power became rampant. An atmosphere of fear and repression reigned and people got restless to overthrow the government.

Politicization of institutions has been happening in Mamata government too. Allegations are quite strong that police in Bengal functions at the beck and call of political bosses. The lapses and alleged loopholes on the part of police in handling the rape and murder of the young doctor have yet again revealed a sense of confused or misplaced loyalty.

But above everything else both Hasina and Mamata governments allegedly seem to have twined in accepting corruption as a way of life. In Bangladesh jobs of primary and secondary teachers got sold at premium, Rs 10-12 lakh in the Hasina regime. Even police had to pay up for prized postings and transfers. In Bengal busting of the teacher’s recruitment scam has revealed how unsuccessful and ineligible candidates got government jobs in schools in exchange of bribes.

Similarities are multiple and inescapable. Mamata has good reasons to be apprehensive. It’s not only she, who can see and connect the dots. People, out on the streets, clamoring for justice, can see a providential pattern somewhere in the unfolding of future events in these two places-- Bangladesh and Bengal. True, they share more than 2,217 odd km of border. They share the same umbilical cord, other than language, culture, ethos, icons. Even emotions are the same. So she cannot take any risk.

(The writer is a senior jounalist based in Kolkata. Views personal)

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