Recent days have witnessed discussions about the Congress victory in Karnataka in general and Siddaramaiah’s appointment as chief minister in particular. Some have expressed the hope that the Congress victory and a break in BJP dominance represents a new opening in what was looking like a closed political system.
Would Rahul Gandhi’s consistent attack on crony capitalism and authoritarianism, for instance, usher in a paradigm shift in political narratives? Will Siddaramaiah represent the idea of the subaltern? Is Siddaramaiah crafting his version of socialism or what has been called “Siddu Samajavada” or “Siddu Socialism”? Congress victory under him has significant implications for contemporary Indian politics, and secular and liberal institutions that are functioning in shrinking spaces, are drawing succour from it.
Of course, Siddaramaiah’s return as chief minister after hectic backroom negotiations and acrimony, has not been a smooth affair, with the dominant caste of Vokkaligas laying claim to chief ministership. Pontiffs from the Lingayat caste made the same claim from the other side of the caste fence. This was not unusual. These two dominant castes, right from the formation of the Mysore state, have claimed that they are the natural inheritors of political power.
Siddaramaiah’s appointment also comes at a moment when two contending ideas are facing off: The first believes that the history of contemporary India begins in 2014, and envisions the future of India through high growth rates, high-income distribution, reduced inflation. The narrative that Modi tried to build during his rallies and road shows in Karnataka, without reference to the lacklustre Karnataka Chief Minister and deeply-entrenched corruption, reflects this idea.
The second idea or model addresses the issues of Dalits, OBCs, and minorities from the perspective of poverty and backwardness. This model is more inclusive and encompassing.
What has been called “Siddu Samajavada” is different from the traditional socialism of Lohia, Nehru or even Marxian socialism. Unlike other shades of socialism, which believed either in forcible collectivisation of property or public-private partnership, including land reforms to elevate people from poverty, this socialism addressed the issues of hunger first, followed by the most significant problems of shelter, clean drinking water and power distribution. The popular and populist programmes that Siddaramaiah initiated in his first stint, such as Anna Bhagya, Ksheera Bhagya, Shaadi Bhagya etc., are all part of Siddu Socialism.
Post Covid, people yearned for the same programmes to mitigate the increased cost of living and rise in inflation. The rising cost of living became the centrepoint of the anti-incumbency wave. The issue of 40 per cent or 30 per cent commission added further fuel to it. Gas cylinders became a curse rather than a cure and as a reaction, women voted in large numbers. The Congress’s five-guarantee scheme became the catch-word for the voters to register their protest against a corrupt and communal regime.
Indeed, Karnataka is more rooted in caste politics than in communal politics. Caste identities are much stronger than collective identities. Parties, without exception, play caste politics. The BJP heavily banked upon two important castes in north Karnataka, known as LIBRA — Lingayats and Brahmins; and in coastal Karnataka, the three Bs — Bunts, Brahmins and Billavas. After a long time, the LIBRA social coalition collapsed when the BJP humiliated its own Lingayat leaders. Two sub-castes within the Lingayats voted against the BJP — the Ganigas and Banajigas. Incidentally, the BJP tried to pit the Vokkaligas against Muslims by creating fictitious Vokkaliga fighters who allegedly killed Tipu, but that did not have traction on the ground. Even the hijab and halal rows had no takers. Muslims remained a “silent” rather than a “silenced” minority. The scrapping of OBC status to Muslims became the last straw that broke the BJP’s power.
This time AHINDA, the acronym for minorities, OBCs and Dalits, not only consolidated but expanded to include those categories that had left earlier for various reasons. Thanks to political strategies employed in Old Mysore, the Congress could attract Vokkaligas, Scheduled Tribes in Middle Karnataka and Scheduled Castes in other parts of Karnataka. Muslims voted, despite the presence of Muslim parties, overwhelmingly for the Congress. However, what Siddaramaiah or the Congress should have included was the coastal belt. It remained a hotbed of Hindutva politics, even as in other parts, Hindutva had minimal appeal — because of the absence of historical memories of Partition, or memories of medieval-era pillage and temple destruction, the lack of formidable Muslim rulers, barring Tipu, and the presence of the Bhakti movement and Sufism. Siddaramaiah has consistently attacked Hindutva, and his version of the “Humanitarian Hindu” offers new hope.
The road that Siddaramaiah has to travel is complex. He has the task of delivering the message that the upsurge of subalterns is unstoppable and cannot be compromised. And Karnataka cannot become the laboratory of Hindutva politics. His return as chief minister has rekindled hopes for the resurgence and revival of democratic and liberal-secular spaces.
The writer is Dean of Faculty of Arts, University of Mysore, Karnataka
