Time was when people used to talk of ‘India that is Bharat that is UP’. This was a measure of the prestige then enjoyed by the most populous state that has given the country eight of its 14 prime ministers so far, regardless of its own economic and social backwardness. But so swift was the decline in the standards of its feudal politics that it was soon renamed “Ulta Pradesh”. That seems entirely justified by the current degeneration of UP politics, though the process began a long time ago. I remember the post-1967 instability phase in UP, alongwith that in almost all north Indian states, during which trade in political loyalties was so brisk that in the course of 48 hours Charan Singh — father of Ajit Singh, the man at the centre of the current crisis in Lucknow, and the only Indian Prime Minister not to have faced Parliament even for a day — earned the nickname “knight of the double double-cross”. Even that has paled into insignificance, however, compared with the goings-on since 1989 when Congress rule in UP ended and Mulayam Singh — then sailing under the banner of the Janata Dal and the National Front that quickly proved to be notional — first became chief minister. Interestingly, there was a rival claimant to the job, none other than Ajit Singh. But Mulayam’s clout was much stronger. Ajit became industries minister in the cabinet of V.P. Singh in New Delhi, only to ditch him before the end of his short-lived tenure. Since then, like so many of his contemporaries, Ajit has been an itinerant political leader, looking for the best bargain. It must be added, even if in parenthesis, that thanks to incredibly murky and sordid politics during the 17 years since then, Mulayam Singh has been the state’s chief minister thrice, the Bahujan Samaj Party leader Mayawati twice (significantly once with the support of the Congress and once with that of the BJP), and the BJP has had two chief ministers, Kalyan Singh and Rajnath Singh. Far more worrying than the quick changeover of chief ministers have been the unseemly tricks and tactics competing politicians and parties in order to stay in or wrest power, have stooped to, with some governors tilting the scales one way or the other. To give only one example, in 1997, immediately after the celebration of the golden jubilee of Indian Independence, TV screens across the globe showed images of honourable members of this key state throwing microphones and other missiles at each other. Why? Because the then governor, Romesh Bhandari, had sacked the BJP chief minister and sworn in the Congress party leader, Jagdambika Pal, as chief minister. The high court immediately overturned this, and reinstated BJP’s Rajnath Singh. Nobody expected Mulayam Singh, then defence minister in Inder Gujral’s cabinet, to take this lying down. He bulldozed the cabinet into imposing President’s rule in the prized state. To his eternal credit, the then president, K.R. Nara-yanan refused to sign the proclamation and returned it to the council of ministers for “reconsideration”. Gujral, anxious to stick to proprieties, decided not to commit the folly a second time. Rajnath Singh proceeded to prove his majority on the floor of the House when the situation led to virtual “hand-to-hand warfare”. There was not only violence on both sides but also defections. Rajnath handed out ministerial office to every defector from every party, raising the strength of his team to 100. Governor Bhandari was equally nonchalant. He refused to heed the chorus for his recall or resignation. He put in his papers only after Atal Bihari Vajpayee became PM in March 1998. It is against this dismal backdrop that the current act in UP’s unending melodrama is unfolding itself. No one is taken in by Ajit Singh’s claim that he has withdrawn the ministers of his party on the issue of sugarcane prices. It is political calculation, on the eve of a crucial assembly election. Curiously, till the time of writing, he hasn’t withdrawn support to the Mulayam ministry. But nor has the Congress that technically remains supportive of it. In return, the SP’s support to the UPA government also persists. For the aggressive Mulayam, at one time a professional wrestler, the crisis could not have come at a worse time. His reputation has suffered greatly because of charges of lawlessness, rigging of municipal elections and so on. The horrific Noida-Nithari outrage has delivered him a shattering blow. The withdrawal of RLD support and the unprecedented standoff with Governor T.V. Rajeswar over the holding of the assembly session could be the proverbial last straw on the camel’s back. Mercifully, after much shouting and screaming, the Mulayam Singh government has decided to abide by the procedures for calling a fresh session of the assembly that prorogation requires. All may be well that ends well, but an important feature of the whole affair cannot be overlooked. Speaker Mata Prasad Pande seemed to be even more anxious than the chief minister to hold the session on Monday. Sadly, he is not the only presiding officer of the legislature to disregard parliamentary norms. Didn’t his predecessor, Kesrinath Tripathi, rule that the defection of only 12 of the 89 BSP MLAs to the BJP was perfectly legal? The subsequent defection of 40 BSP members to Mulayam’s side is still under litigation in the Supreme Court. Its verdict is still awaited. This, too, is typical. The writer is a senior political commentator
