A few weeks from today the President of the United States shall arrive inIndia. I don’t know his itinerary but it seems certain that either Bangaloreof Hyderabad shall be on the list. That is a tribute to the sustained mannerin which both cities — I should say both states – have pursuedtechnological excellence. No, neither city would be mistaken for, say,Cupertino or Redmond, but give them credit for trying.
Neither Andhra Pradesh nor Karnataka became a magnet for Indian computerprofessionals overnight. Both states had to invest in education andinfrastructure, try to give tax-breaks to the right kind of firms, and soon. The result is that two provincial capitals are on the to-do list whenthe leader of the richest nation in the world comes calling.
Bangalore and Hyderabad are not the only cities that merit a visit.Foreigners, if not necessarily heads of state, also look to Mumbai, orChennai, or Ahmedabad, or even Pune when they want to see the best thatIndia can produce. Obviously, I am proud of what these states haveachieved, but when I run through that list there is also something veryscary about the subtext.
Where are the largest states in India? When was the last time a visitor wastaken to Lucknow or Patna? For several decades, sociologists have referredto the quartet of Bihar, Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan, and Uttar Pradesh as theBimaru states. That bilingual pun was always true, but their ill-healthstands out today when the western and southern parts of India are throwingaway their crutches.
Frankly, the state that worries me most is Uttar Pradesh, and not Bihar.Call me an optimist, but I think ten years of Laloo Prasad Yadav have drivenhis unfortunate state to the point where matters simply cannot get anyworse. But as Bihar struggles to rejoin the national mainstream. UttarPradesh seems bent upon driving into a stagnant backwater. A hefty chunk ofthe blame for this must lie upon the two national parties — the BJP and theCongress. And that is why the most interesting of the ongoing set of pollsare those being held in Uttar Pradesh, rather than the Assembly elections inBihar, Orissa, Haryana, and Manipur.
Up to the last General Election, conventional wisdom had it that the BJPwould easily emerge as the top dog, `with the Bahujan Samaj Party and theSamajwadi Party battling it out for the silver medal. This turned out to bewide off the mark with the BJP losing half the seats it won in 1998. TheSamajwadi Party was a good third. Six months later, the Congress and the BJPappear to have lost even more ground judging by what is happening in Kanauj.The BJP has thrown in the towel, surrendering the seat to its ally, theLoktantrik Congress. The Congress tried to rope in Rajesh Khanna, a ploythat flopped when the former superstar indignantly turned on the party. Ineffect, the battle seems to be between the Bahujan Samaj Party and theSamajwadi Party.
Media interest has focussed on the high-profile candidates – Akhilesh,Mulayam Singh Yadav’s son who is trying to occupy the seat vacated by hisfather, and Akbar Ahmed of the Bahujan Samaj Party. It is, of course,fascinating to speculate on which of the two shall prove more acceptable tothe Muslims, the Other Backward Castes, and so on. But the truly interestingquestion is this: what will happen if the pattern being seen in Kanauj todayshall be replicated all over the state? Will Uttar Pradesh be left withouteither of the two national parties having a presence in the state?
One out of every six Indians is a citizen of Uttar Pradesh. Given thestate’s pathetic record in education and family-planning, that ratio isbound to increase in the coming decades. Delimitation may have beenpostponed by Cabinet fiat, but it won’t stop the population explosion. Theeighty-five seats that Uttar Pradesh currently has are not, in fact, trulyrepresentative of its size but will the rest of India stand for the statebeing rewarded because it has failed to rein in the population growth?It might be different if the Samajwadi Party and the Bahujan Samaj Partypossessed a vision that took India beyond the Gangetic belt. Sadly, that isjust not true. Mulayam Singh Yadav’s stints in office, both as chiefminister of Uttar Pradesh and as defence minister in Delhi, were disasters.
Public memory is proverbially short, but need I remind everyone that MulayamSingh Yadav was the defence minister who drove Air Force officers intomutiny? Or that he was the man who insisted that everybody, including peoplefrom eastern, western, and southern India, use Hindi exclusively?(Incidentally, he ensured that his own son was enrolled in a Dholpur academywhere students were punished if they didn’t speak English!)
What were his achievements as chief minister of Uttar Pradesh? Is there anyrecord of his investing in education? Did he try to cut down on non-Planexpenditure? The recent strike by the Uttar Pradesh State Electricity Boardemployees revealed just how bad the infrastructure situation is in thestate. What did Mulayam Singh Yadav do to improve the position?When I look at Andhra Pradesh, or Karnataka, or Maharashtra, or Tamil Nadu,or Gujarat, I see governments that are at least trying to do the rightthings. They are talking about cutting flab, and investing ininfrastructure. Above all, they recognise the importance of education. Doyou hear any politician in Uttar Pradesh talking about improving the dismalschools and colleges, or the equally horrible primary health centres? No,voters are fed a diet of caste, caste, and more caste, with a little bit ofreligion thrown in for spicing.
I am sorry to state that even the BJP and the Congress aren’t much better.Good governance has been made an effective electoral issue even in Bihar,but not in Uttar Pradesh. Incredible but true, the two national parties seemto have abdicated their responsibilities for one-sixth of India. It tookBihar ten years to realise that caste politics lead to a blind alley; howlong must Uttar Pradesh suffer? An American president is visiting Indiaafter twenty-two years. Will Uttar Pradesh have changed for the better ifClinton’s successor comes after an equal gap?