Gandhi vs Gandhi

But neither the BJP bigwigs nor the Sangh’s elders succeeded in getting him the much coveted ticket into the political big league. That denial, certainly, has something to do with the continuing leadership crisis within the BJP. With no clear ‘high command’ in place since the Advani-RSS face-off last year, state units have become a lot more assertive. Madhya Pradesh Chief Minister Shivraj Singh Chouhan may not have succeeded in getting his wife the nomination, but it was easy for him to stave off the imposition of an “outsider”.

For Rajnath Singh, still struggling to establish his authority as party chief, it provided a good opportunity to back a state unit against Advani. And for GenNext leaders, almost all of who belong to the politically less prestigious Rajya Sabha, keeping Varun out of the House of the People made political sense.

But the most important reason is rooted in Varun’s behaviour and personality that, in the space of just two years, has eroded much of the goodwill he initially enjoyed in the BJP. When he joined the party along with his mother in February 2004, the NDA was in power and no one dreamed of a Congress comeback. For the BJP, eager to establish itself as the new ruling dispensation of India, a Nehru-Gandhi scion was a prize catch — never mind Varun’s declaration that he would not campaign against Rahul or Sonia Gandhi. But in those early days, Varun was more than just his surname. BJP leaders, including the seasoned Pramod Mahajan, could not stop exulting over the young man’s “amazing” grasp of Indian politics, his political “maturity”, his skilful oratory and mass appeal. He was just 24 and the saffron-hued world was seemingly at his feet.

Not for long. Varun’s abiding self-confidence and inborn desire for leadership soon came to be seen as misplaced arrogance and overweening ambition that was more than a little unseemly. Varun, BJP insiders started to whisper, was a little too conscious of his family’s legacy — a legacy that may make Congressmen swoon with sycophancy but evokes little resonance in the Parivar or party. Varun was fine as the new whizkid on the saffron block but only so long as he was content with being a kid. When he made it clear that he would settle for nothing less than the post of general secretary and saw himself as Rahul Gandhi’s counterpart in the BJP, many of his early well-wishers started disappearing. He might have Advani and Sudarshan on his side, they sniggered, but the BJP was not the Congress Party.

Congressmen, on the other hand, wish that their own Rahul were a bit more like his cousin-in-a-hurry. Rahul, of course, can afford to be a lot more low profile and laid-back about things because he knows that he has a party for the taking. Unlike Varun who has always taken a keen interest in history and politics, Rahul — like his father before him — showed no interest in either and was a reluctant entrant only to help out Mummy. He has been an MP for over two years now, but has confined his parliamentary interventions to just one earnest speech on education and his political forays have remained confined to Rae Bareli and Amethi.

The key to understanding the contrasting approaches of the two cousins lies, perhaps, not in the paternal legacy they both represent but in the influence of their respective mothers on them. Maneka Gandhi, remember, plunged into politics when barely in her 20s — choosing to contest the Amethi byelection after her husband’s death and losing to Rajiv Gandhi. She may have cut off ties with the First Family but she remained immersed in politics, winning repeatedly from Pilibhit and serving as Union minister under an assortment of governments.

Sonia Gandhi, on the other hand, was content to remain “just a housewife” and joined full-time politics a good seven years after her husband’s death. Even after becoming Congress chief, she has maintained a cultivated aloofness from the seamier games of realpolitik. In the end, Sonia has been a lot more successful in a career not of her own choosing than Maneka, who started early but acquired a reputation of impetuousness that hasn’t quite left her despite her undoubted talent.

After getting over his disappointment over the Vidisha betrayal, Varun Gandhi could perhaps learn a lesson or two from his older cousin on the importance of patience to succeed in politics. Rahul, similarly, needs to imbibe a bit of Varun’s chutzpah and drive that are so essential if you have decided, howsoever reluctantly, to be in the hurly burly of mass politics. They may belong to different parties but both would certainly profit from exchanging ideas on how to fulfill their shared sense of manifest destiny.