The importance of being Amar Singh

Greek tragedy had its deux ex machina - a plot or device whereby a seemingly inextricable problem is suddenly and abruptly solved with the contrived and unexpected intervention of some new event, character, or object. Indian politics and entertainment have Amar Singh.

Just when Team Anna Hazare’s mass campaign for a citizens’ ombudsman bill was emerging as a potential blockbuster, capturing the imagination of a corruption-weary nation, the storyline changed dramatically. Over the past week, newspapers, television channels and social media sites have kept us enthralled with the gripping tale of the life, times and conversations of a certain Amar Singh.

Who is Amar Singh? In the corridors of power across the country, Amar Singh is known as a dalal - a fixer, a wheeler-dealer. But Singh, a 55-year-old Rajya Sabha MP, formerly with the Samajwadi Party, is no ordinary dalal. In fact, apart from his appearance, there is little about the man that has the ‘everyday’ touch.

It is not every day that you get to see a man touching his ears and sticking his tongue out on national television to make a point. It is not every day that a man takes off his trousers at a press conference to show that he is not into luxury buses and that he has developed wounds on his lower limbs during long journeys to the eastern end of Uttar Pradesh. It is not every day that a man unconnected with the cricket pitch gets to trend on twitter, hog the front pages of newspapers, and pop up 24x7 on

TV discussions at a time of the IPL.
Amar Singh has done all this, and more. He not only hobnobs with Bollywood biggies but also bagged a role in a Malayalam film starring the beautiful Dimple Kapadia. Here is a man who has not only had a long and glorious innings as a dalal, but, is mighty proud of the fact. Clad in spotless white, he was in a confessional mode before journalists last week. “Yes, I was the main supplier and dalal for Mulayam Singh,” he said, spiritedly agreeing with his critics.

Such candour in public utterances is trademark Amar Singh. One of his favourite phrases to describe himself in his previous avatar as Mulayam Singh’s confidante is Jhandu balm.

The point of last week’s press meet, however, was not to hold forth on Mulayam Singh Yadav, his friend of yesteryear, but to speak about honesty and probity, especially as they relate to Anna’s warriors. The burden of Singh’s song:  the father-son duo of eminent lawyers, Shanti Bhushan and Prashant Bhushan, who are part of Anna’s crack team in the joint committee drafting the Jan Lokpal bill, are not 100% honest.

Singh narrated many stories about the Bhushans to suggest that he knew them well and denied any involvement with an allegedly doctored CD which raises questions about the Bhushans. The Bhushans have called the volley of attacks on them part of a smear campaign. The veracity of these stories has not been established. But one thing is clear: Singh is skilled in declamation and looks to raunchy item numbers and Shakespeare to embellish his arguments.

“Brutus is an honourable man,” declaimed Mark Anthony ironically in his funeral oration for Caesar in Shakespeare’s play. The avalanche of allegations against the senior Bhushan was spliced with wry, mocking references to the old man’s “honourable” nature and “truthfulness,” perhaps inspired by Shakespeare which Amar Singh studied during his college days in Kolkata. Singh also reportedly exclaimed “Brutus tum bhi” (Et tu Brutus) after being expelled from the Samajwadi Party by Mulayam Singh. 

As I write, there are shrill cries that by hammering the Bhushans, Singh has successfully derailed Anna’s anti-corruption campaign, taking a major load off the minds of the political classes.

Time will tell how the story ends. Meanwhile Amar Singh has realised the vital importance of being Amar Singh, the Brahmastra, or the deadliest weapon that every beleaguered regime, institution or individual would like to have. That it was widely reported that Singh shared the dais with two Congress leaders at the opening of a school in Farukkabad, Uttar  Pradesh, last week, is, of course, pure coincidence and speaks of their shared love of neglected people.