Back with a bang or betrayal in Bihar — Nitish’s sixth oath

In Phaneeshwarnath Renu’s Mare Gaye Gulfam, the simple-minded but high-souled Bihari cartman, Heerman, takes his third oath at the end of the story: never ferry a nautanki artiste. The story became famous after its celluloid adaptation in the Raj Kapoor-Waheeda Rehman starrer, Teesri Kasam (1966). We may recall that Heerman had earlier vowed not to transport illegal goods or bamboo — the latter toppled on some horse riders who beat up the poor bullock-cart driver.

But the third and last lesson learned from the natak company dancer, Hirabai, is the deepest and most telling. Given how beautiful and charming she is, Heeraman thinks of her as a paragon of virtue whom he must befriend and protect. His destined heart-break is delivered to him when Heerabai confesses at the end that she is no virginal angel of his fantasy, but a working woman who has already been “sold.” We catch a disquieting glimpse of the sordid underbelly of rural exploiters and the exploited. Nobody is innocent; everyone is implicated. But what to do? Life must go on.

There’s nothing as coy or poignant about political horse-trading or one-upmanship. One may make as many promises as one wishes, only to break them as circumstances dictate or demand. Politics is, after all, not just the not-so-pure pursuit of power, but the supremely pragmatic art of the possible. So why should the Opposition shout itself hoarse crying “betrayal” when Nitish Kumar is sworn in as the Chief Minister of Bihar for the sixth time in 12 years? Nitish has not only equalled the late J Jayalalithaa’s record, but decisively proven his political acumen and adaptability. Nitish won a decisive vote of confidence on the floor of the House with 131 MLAs supporting him. In politics as in Darwinian evolution, the ones who survive are the fittest. The gripe of the erstwhile Mahagathbandhan-wallas is surely a case of sour grapes. With Nitish’s ghar wapsi, their opponents and supporters of the ruling party have much to cheer about. The icing on the birthday cake of the newly sworn government is that the award-wapsi brigade not only lost its awards, but also Bihar.

Nitish had made a calculated — in retrospect miscalculated — break with the NDA in 2013. Modi had been announced as the BJP’s Prime Ministerial candidate. Nitish wasn’t sure Modi would win; moreover, the latter’s appeal, based on development, good governance, and freedom from corruption, was similar to his own. Moreover, Modi’s brand of Hindutva politics might prove a liability in Bihar, eroding his own vote base. But after Modi swept the Bihar Lok Sabha polls, Nitish had to eat humble pie. He resigned, taking moral responsibility for the JDU defeat, installing his protégé, Jitan Ram Manjhi, on Bihar’s simhasan. But Manjhi fell out with his mentor, lasing only 276 days in office. Nitish’s political prowess was once again displayed in joining forces with his arch-rival Lalu Prasad Yadav to forge the Mahagathbandhan. He returned to power in November 2015 with his coalition bagging 178 out of 243 seats in the Bihar Assembly.

But this alliance was proving to be too costly for Nitish’s image and reputation. It was akin to the kiss of death. He felt compromised and curtailed. The Yadavs ran a parallel government; Bihar was once again sinking into the corrupt and criminal Lalu Raj. After BJP’s decisive win in UP in April this year, the writing on the wall was clear. Nitish began to move back towards the BJP, supporting not only Modi’s surgical strikes, but also demonetization and Kovind’s nomination to the Presidency. Mayawati’s resignation from the Rajya Sabha was the last straw. In the Mahagathbandhan’s projected rejig for 2019, Behenji, not Nitish, would be the face of the combined opposition. Was it worth sticking around with a motley bunch of losers heading for what looked like another nose-in-the-mud drubbing? No. Nitish backtracked on his earlier slogan of a “BJP-mukt” India to walk into the bear hug of the man he once thought he could topple. Nitish has shown his maturity, resilience, and, above all, ability to survive. Giving up national ambitions, he has settled for Bihar. What choice did he have? The other option would have been political oblivion.

There’s a neat symmetry to this reversal: earlier, when Nitish left the NDA, the BJP’s Sushil Modi, the Deputy CM, was the unhappy one. Now Nitish’s own deputy, Sharad Yadav, is feeling left out. Someone must bear the brunt, after all. To survive in politics, you need either charisma or patience, often both. But if you don’t have the former, you definitely need the latter. Sabar ka phal meetha hota hai — sweet is the fruit of endurance.

Of the many lessons from Bihar’s game of thrones, this is the foremost: Narendra Modi and Nitish Kumar, in that order, are the tallest leaders in the land. As any wise old Bihari would say, in the Mare Gaye Gulfam manner: “Iss Babua, in politics there are no Heeramans — or for that matter Heerabais. There are only Lalus, Didis, Behenjis, Netajis, Madam-ji, and Pappu-ji, on one side. And alone on the other side? India’s one and only political superman, Narendra Modi.”

Capital quip: If Modi is Superman, who is Nitish? Spiderman.

The author is a poet and Professor at JNU. Views expressed are personal.