Tavleen Singh writes: I met nobody in rural India who saw Modi as corrupt and autocratic

Many of these things should have happened long ago. But because we were so colonised a ruling class, we did not notice that ordinary Indians were forced to endure the worst public services.

What is it about ‘autocratic’, ‘dictatorial’ Modi that attracts ordinary Indian voters more?

6 min readApr 25, 2024 11:10 AM IST First published on: Apr 21, 2024 at 07:45 AM IST

Many things have changed in India since Narendra Modi first became prime minister. But one change that has gone almost unnoticed is that a process of real decolonisation has transpired. And because of this the old, colonised ruling class has been swept away. This is a very good thing. It should have happened long, long ago. As someone who belonged to that ruling class, I consider myself well qualified to explain why this process of decolonisation was overdue and how we failed India as its ruling class.

The truth is we were an effete, hopeless bunch. We spoke no Indian language well, but this did not matter to us. We were proud of speaking English well. In our drawing rooms we sneered at those who dared enter without speaking good English. And at those whose table manners were not embellished with western refinement. In short, those who fumbled with forks and knives and preferred eating with their hands and without cutlery.

When we travelled to foreign lands, we made a good pretense of being Indian, but we never cared to understand what it meant to be Indian. We pretended to know everything about India’s ancient culture and civilisation, but we knew almost nothing. In the schools and colleges we attended, we learned more about western civilisation, history, and literature than about our own, so it was not totally our fault.
When it came to politics and elections, we stuck loyally by the Nehru-Gandhi dynasty and its various heirs because they were people like us. We did not care that Parliament had been turned into a private members club. It was our club. Nor did we care that the Congress Party under Sonia Gandhi’s stewardship had also become a private club. It was our club. In our drawing rooms we talked endlessly of democracy and secularism and saw ourselves as ordained to protect these ideas.

Then along came Narendra Modi and the earth shifted beneath our feet. He may not have been personally responsible for everything that changed but he was a vital part of the political change that happened, and this somehow became an essential element of the bigger changes that were happening. Suddenly, almost overnight, after Modi first became prime minister, we became not just powerless but irrelevant. A new breed of Indians who spoke Hindi well and English not at all started replacing us in the high offices of government, as political analysts, and anchors in TV studios, in journalism, in Bollywood movies and TV series. They were not impressed with our skills in English, and we were so impressed by how Indian they were that we tried to emulate them just to belong. Some of us have succeeded, most of us have not.

Those who have not but wish to continue being relevant cling these days to Rahul and Priyanka Gandhi and hope that somehow, they will be able to defeat Modi. Some act as advisors to the current heirs of the Dynasty and fill their heads with grandiose ideas like saving the Constitution and saving democracy. But the truth is that Rahul Gandhi’s main message remains the same as it was in the last general election. This is that Modi is corrupt and that he works only for a handful of rich Indians. He steals your money, he shrieks at his political rallies, and he gives it to his rich friends. How exactly does this work?

As leader of the Congress Party, he is seen, especially by foreign correspondents, as the only man who can defeat Modi. It is bad luck for him that he seems so incapable of convincing Indian voters of this, despite trying hard to prove that he is one of them. He has worked with farmers in rice fields, transported coal on bicycles with miners, listened to the woes of vegetable sellers and spent long hours with mechanics in dingy shops to show how much he cares about the ‘common man.’ So why is the common man not impressed? Could it be because these gestures come across somehow as noblesse oblige and not genuine acts of sympathy?

What is it about ‘autocratic’, ‘dictatorial’ Modi that attracts ordinary Indian voters more? The answer that I got to this question on my recent travels in rural India is that people have seen changes in their lives, and they believe that these changes have happened because of Modi. These are not remarkable changes. They are simple things like roads, drinking water, electricity, and Internet services but because they were not there before, they seem remarkable.

Many of these things should have happened long ago. But because we were so colonised a ruling class, we did not notice that ordinary Indians were forced to endure the worst public services. In our drawing rooms and in our entitlement, we did not care about such things because in our privileged cocoon it would have been unthinkable to go to a government hospital or a government school. Modi’s advent burst the bubble in which we lived, and the truth is that most of us have no idea why this happened. We continue to hope that he will be defeated this time and hope that the message that democracy is in danger will resonate with voters. When the results come, we are likely to be disappointed again. I met nobody in rural India who saw Modi as corrupt and autocratic.