The Tale of two political terrains

 

 

I am not freezing or shivering at 5 am in the morning as the auto driver hurtles ahead like an F-1 driver towards Bhubaneswar station. The city is damp with moisture that clings to you like the soft touch of a gentle lover. On the way to the station, I see a group of people huddled together inside coarse blankets and sleeping. “They are here to protest the POSCO project, ” says the auto driver Ramakanta. The Orissa CM is in a hurry to industrialise the state and land acquisition has rapidly emerged as the most significant issue that challenges Patnaik’s enduring love affair with the voters of Orissa. Many pundits in the temple city, therefore, hink that the son of the legendary leader, Biju Patnaik, may not win a third consecutive term in elections that should be held in late 2008 or early 2009.

As the Jan Shatabdi from Bhubaneswar to Howrah rumbles ahead with a blare of the horn, I stand at the gate, my fingers tightly gripping the cross bar as the train rapidly gathers speed. In its infinite wisdom, the railway reservation system’s master computer has allotted me seat number D2-102. As I walk towards the seat, the all too familiar stench from the nearby toilets hits me like a ton of bricks. I just keep walking towards a large group of Bengalis who are far away enough to escape the stench. They turn out to be a typically close knit and talkative family who had come to enjoy the sun and sand of Puri over the weekend. They were also eager to reach Howrah quickly because it happens to be Saraswati Puja. And Puja and Bengalis are like…well, like sweets and sugar. Near the noisy Bengali family is an equally large and noisy family distinctly Bihari; the lady of the house with sindoor smeared on her forehead doling out puri and bhaaji to kith and kin on strips of the Telegraph newspaper. I hate to disturb the cosy comfort of the group; but I am a hack and reluctantly decide to hack my way through the bonhomie by asking the Bengalis a couple of questions about Buddhadev Bhattacharya, the Chief Minister of Bengal. The patriarch who looks to be about 50 years old suddenly cuts through the gaggle of women’s voices like wrath unleashed. “Buddha babu is destroying Bengal. I voted for him in the last elections hoping that he will genuinely bring prosperity to the state. But his policies are only helping the CPI(M)-led mafia. Only they are getting rich, ” he thunders. Questions about what happened in Nandigram brings forth a torrent of angry words and gestures. A lady—must be his wife—gently nudges him authoritatively the way only a wife can and the torrent of words suddenly stops. The man even refuses to give his name.

I can’t help wonder at the baffling paradox of Naveen Patnaik and Buddhadev Bhattacharya. Both swept to power for a second consecutive term during the last assembly elections promising industrialisation, economic growth and prosperity. Both are well read intellectuals and both had an image and an aura that rose well above their parties and the cadres. Yet, in a span of less than two years, Buddhadev Bhattacharya has become a figure of hatred for the Bengali middle class while Naveen Patnaik continues to be very popular. In Orissa, thousands have been protesting against the forthcoming steel plant of Tata Steel. The issue is land and compensation. More than 10 protestors were shot down in police firing in Kalinga Nagar in 2006. The POSCO steel project and the Vedanta Resources projects (One for aluminum and bauxite mining and the other a proposed global university) have been equally controversial. Local people have literally started an armed uprising against the projects and the state. Lathicharges and tales of police brutality have become folklore. And yet, when it comes to the mainstream media both in Bhubaneswar and Delhi and the Oriya middle class, Naveen Patnaik is not only enduringly popular, but also seen as an incorruptible man who can actually bring genuine prosperity to the state.

In sharp contrast, look at what happened in Singur and Nandigram. The Tata group was involved even in Singur and local protests revolved around land. Some people died. In Nandigram, many people died—and along with them died the image and popularity of Buddhadev Bhattacharya. Many in Bengal and the media even compared him with Hitler.

The train races towards the Orissa-Bengal border and zips through a small station in Bengal called Angua. Suddenly, in the barren landscape, I see a huge pole with a deep red flag fluttering in solitary splendour. And then I realise why Buddhadev Bhattacharya is so disliked in his state while Naveen Patnaik remains popular. in his The latter doesn’t lead a party of ruthless and murderous cadres while the West Bengal CM does precisely that. I keep wondering about this and forget time for a while. Soon, the train chugs into Howrah station and I get down, smug that I am no longer just a hack, but a political pundit as well.

PS: Last month my better half and I holidayed for a week in Puri and Konark. In Konark, we were besieged by ‘guides’ who started yelling and supplicating in Bengali. (For decades middle class Bengali tourists have been the source of livelihood for poor Oriyas; and on the reverse side, poor Oriyas have worked in Calcutta as cooks, plumbers and waiters for middle class Bengalis. Equally loudly, I announced in Oriya that I am not a Bengali. Pat came the reply from one of the guides: “So what? Even Oriyas have money nowadays”