Sanjaya Baru’s account of the four years he spent as media adviser to Prime Minister Manmohan Singh has, quite predictably, triggered a political storm. Part of the reason lies in the fact that The Accidental Prime Minister hit the stands in the middle of a spirited election campaign and became a talking point for politicians and the media. But what added extra spice to the revelations was the intemperate reaction of the Congress. Baru, a political outsider who became an insider by sheer accident, was dubbed a “betrayer”, a job-seeker and an agent of Narendra Modi and his disclosures were debunked by the very Prime Minister’s Office where he once served as a fanciful “work of fiction”. By flying off the handle, the Congress fuelled media inquisitiveness and became the foremost publicity agent for the book.
To be fair, Mr Baru has not penned an insider’s tale that is calculated to rival M.O. Mathai’s tales of Jawaharlal Nehru and his family. Those reading the book a few years from now may actually wonder what the fuss was really all about since he has proffered the most credible appreciation of Manmo-han Singh’s record in United Progressive Alliance-1. Although viewed from the cloistered surroundings of South Block and Race Course Road, it underlines the fact that the “accidental” Prime Minister grew into his challenging job and even formulated an achievable vision for India. Dr Singh never cut a dashing figure but at least Mr Baru has rescued him from ignominy that is certain to be attached to his legacy if the Congress does as disastrously as it is expected to do on May 16.
“I sincerely believe”, a saddened Dr Singh said in his final press interaction earlier this year, “that history will be kinder to me than the contemporary media, or for that matter, the Opposition parties in Parliament.” Mr Baru has certainly contributed to that post-facto rehabilitation, albeit a trifle prematurely.
The controversy over the book centres on what an apologetic Prime Minister told Baru after he reneged on his word to reinduct him into the PMO after the 2009 poll: “I am sorry for what happened. You see, you must understand one thing. I have come to terms with this. There cannot be two centres of power. That creates confusion. I have to accept that the party president is the centre of power. The government is ans-werable to the party.”
The implication of the Prime Minister’s confessional is awesome. Apart from confirming that Dr Singh wasn’t his own master, not even when it came to appointing his own staff, it raised the more profound question of accountability and authority. The entire basis of government rests on the assumption that the Prime Minister and his Cabinet are supreme and accountable to Parliament. But this entire constitutional arrangement is turned on its head if it emerges that real authority is exercised by someone who hasn’t taken the oath of office, doesn’t sit in Cabinet and isn’t accountable to Parliament. Nor was this a question of someone exercising moral authority, as Mahatma Gandhi was often prone to doing in the first six months after Independence. Baru has suggested that Sonia Gandhi exercised control over government through day-to-day decisions which were then communicated to the Prime Minister.
The political implications of this revelation are enormous. For nearly 10 years Mrs Gandhi and, for that matter, Rahul Gandhi have conveyed the impression that they are one step removed from the government headed by the Prime Minister. They have consequently sought to distance themselves from the consequences of government policies. If Mr Baru is right, this separation was a myth and Mrs Sonia Gandhi must also be held accountable for the ignominy that has attached itself to the UPA.
Indeed, by Mr Baru’s logic, Mrs Gandhi is more culpable than even the Prime Minister for everything that has gone wrong with India since 2004, including the mega-corruption.
Mr Baru, in effect, has punctured the claim of Mr Rahul Gandhi to be the angry outsider who would effect a radical rupture with a dodgy past. The Gandhis, it now turns out, were in effect the real rulers of India since May 2004.
For policy wonks the real issue is the significant departure from the system of government that persisted from Jawaharlal Nehru to Atal Behari Vajpayee. At a more practical level, the agenda for the future is clear: the restoration of Cabinet government and the authority of the Prime Minister.
Ironically, this grave indictment of the political distortions in the 10 years of UPA rule is likely to come in very handy to Mr Modi, if he secures a mandate from the people on May 16.
Mr Modi may have drawn flak from his liberal critics for transforming a parliamentary election into a veritable referendum on strong leadership. But it is clear that the basis for his spectacular popularity at the hustings stem from the underlying disquiet over a surreptitious dyarchy.
If Mr Modi wins, the popular expectation is that he will lead from the front and be accountable only to Parliament and to no extra-constitutional centres of power. In a sense, the exasperation with the state of drift under the UPA has actually helped delineate the subordinate role of the party vis-a-vis the Prime Minister. The party can and must provide valuable policy inputs and keep its ear to the ground. But all decisions concerning governance must be taken by the Prime Minister and his Cabinet keeping the larger national picture in mind.
In the past Mr Modi has been attacked for his over-weaning leadership and for being insufficiently mindful of the party. Ironically, the fallout from Baru’s book suggests that the mood has shifted quite markedly. Mr Modi as a national phenomenon was born out of a context — the sad saga of a Prime Minister who was reduced to a cipher.
