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Journalism of Courage
Giant jamun trees cast dappled shadows in this leafy corner in the heart of Lutyens Delhi. Ideal picnic weather but the atmosphere outside 5, Safdarjang Lane is forlorn. Inside, we are told, it’s funereal.
H D Deve Gowda, former Prime Minister—the legend on the name plate on the imposing white gates—has arrived in Delhi on the first flight out from Bangalore. And his staff may be glued to TV, watching the coronation of his son, the crown prince, but the deposed king is nowhere to be seen.
He is huddled in his bedroom with a solitary aide. And repeated entreaties to meet him elicit the same response: ‘‘Gowdaji has nothing to say today. He is in no mood to meet anyone but his closest party colleagues.’’
So what is he doing inside? Is he brooding over his fate worse than any father’s in literature or mythology? King Lear at least had Cordelia in his last days but Gowda’s last born offers no such solace. And Dasharath may have cried himself to death over Rama’s exile but those were tears triggered by an act of filial duty, not filial betrayal.
No, we got it wrong actually. The cause of Gowda’s torment is not Kumaraswamy’s betrayal; it is that nobody quite believes that he is tormented in the first place.
Gowda, says Janata Dal (S) secretary general Danish Ali who was ensconced with him all day, is ‘‘very sad, very upset’’ with the ‘‘stigma which he has got that he is the architect of this whole drama.’’ That is why he refused to meet the press today.
‘‘What is the point?’’ the former PM reportedly asked. ‘‘Again and again they will ask the same question; and whatever I say they will not believe me. Now I will have to show them with my actions, not my speech.’’ The obvious ‘‘action’’, of course, would be to expel Kumaraswamy and his rebels from the parent party. So why hasn’t he done that yet?
Well, it isn’t quite as easy, Ali explains. In fact, Gowda has been huddled in meetings all day—with party colleagues and lawyers to work out the right legal strategy to wipe out the ‘‘stigma’’ staining his ‘‘lifelong commitment to secularism.’’ They are still working.
The problem, we are told, is that Janata Dal (S) is a ‘‘national registered party’’ that is ‘‘recognised’’ only in two states Karnataka and Kerala. The Kerala unit is ‘‘fully’’ with Gowda but with just one MP and three MLAs that doesn’t count much. The backbone of the party is Karnataka where 41 of the 51 MLAs have deserted the “secular” father for the “saffron” son. If Gowda expels them today, they can always go to the Election Commission and claim to be the real JD(S). With more than two-thirds of the MLAs with him, Kumaraswamy has the legal right to make the claim. ‘‘Where will we go then? We want to retain the status of being the real JD(S),’’ insists Ali.
Ali, JD(S) vice president Bapu Kaldate, and leader of the parliamentary party M P Veerendrakumar were part of the ‘‘brains trust’’ that consulted lawyers to find a way out. The final decision? Postponed till February 20 when the ‘‘national executive’’ of the JD(S) meets. All state units (barring Karnataka, one presumes), Ali adds, have ‘‘rejected’’ Gowda’s offer to resign as JD(S) president and so the former prime minister can hold on to that post—unless his son decides to uncrown him.
Late in the evening, we try our luck once again. But the gates remain shut. ‘‘How can you expect him to be in a better mood? He left his home in Bangalore and is all alone here. We are trying to see he at least gets some rest…’’ his secretary says. The unthinkable seems to have happened—Deve Gowda is suffering from insomnia these days.
