“Ab to aap khul kar boliye,” nudged a TV anchor, goading me to join the jilted-at-the-altar band of former AAP leaders. Messages of a “bitter-sweet victory”, only a shade more subtle than the cringe-worthy pot shots by Kumar Vishwas or Swati Maliwal’s gloating, had started floating on WhatsApp among ex-AAPians. As I refused to partake of this mood, another TV anchor wondered if I was keeping the doors open for rejoining my ex-colleagues! “No way,” I told her, with a tinge of exasperation.
I just cannot join this celebration of the defeat of AAP in the Delhi assembly elections. Not that I have forgotten the canard and the insults that some of us were put through in the Stalinist purge in AAP a decade ago. It is just that I cannot allow my personal experience to overshadow the big picture of which the BJP’s victory, and AAP’s loss, in Delhi is a piece. It’s not about me, or about the Aam Aadmi Party and its leaders. It’s about the “aam aadmi”.
This election was a referendum on the last decade of AAP rule. And the verdict is a resounding “no”. The BJP happens to be the beneficiary of this negation. True, the margin of AAP’s defeat in terms of popular votes is just 3.5 per cent, much smaller than the seat tally might suggest. It is not hard to imagine conditions under which it could have been reversed. If the mass media had shielded the AAP leadership from corruption charges, as it routinely does for the BJP leadership. If the Election Commission had ensured that the Delhi elections were held before the Budget, or lived up to its promise to not allow the Budget to target Delhi voters. If the LG had not prevented the Delhi government from going ahead with cash transfers to women, as in MP, Maharashtra and Jharkhand. If AAP and Congress had worked out an electoral understanding, if not an alliance. Any one of these could have swung over 2 percentage points of votes towards AAP and flipped the headlines.
At the same time, it cannot be denied that there was a strong “anti-incumbency” that is not fully captured in the story of vote shares. The CSDS-Lokniti survey registers deep disillusionment with the ruling party on many fronts that mattered a lot to the people — development, roads, cleanliness, sewers and drinking water. The satisfaction rating of the state government was much lower than than the central government and Arvind Kejriwal’s personal popularity was lower than his party’s vote share. Shockingly for a party that rose to power on an anti-corruption plank, nearly two-thirds of Delhi voters believed that the AAP government was “fully” or “somewhat” corrupt. Clearly, many Dilliwalas who voted for AAP did not like it very much. If they had an option, if the BJP had a credible CM candidate or if the Congress appeared more viable, the referendum could have shown a more pronounced swing against the AAP.
Yes, the AAP deserved its electoral drubbing. Yet there is nothing to celebrate here. Indeed, anyone who stands for constitutional democracy must worry and reflect.
I worry, not because I am an admirer of AAP and its leadership. Frankly, the party that came to transform politics had accepted, within the first couple of years, the given rules of the game of politics. It is fair to say that in the Supreme Leader’s personality cult, concentration of all powers in one person, cloak-and-dagger games played out by his coterie, their cynical double-speak and contempt for an ordinary worker, the AAP proved no different from the mainstream parties it sought to replace. A hostile media did hype up the “sheesh mahal” of the CM, but it could do so because this was so much at odds with the Gandhian claims of the leadership.
The courts may not have indicted AAP leaders in the liquor scam, and may never find legal proof, but the scam was no figment of the imagination and did rob the AAP of its moral high ground. Worst of all was the AAP government’s silence during the Delhi riots, its complicity in bulldozer action and active competition in dog whistling aimed at the hapless Rohingya minority — all as acts of conscious political strategy to outmatch the BJP’s Hindu majoritarianism.
I worry, not because I am convinced by the “Delhi Model” claims. The AAP government did bring public education to political limelight and improved the physical infrastructure of government schools, even though the gains in the quality of education remain debatable. Mohalla clinics were a good idea whose execution left a lot to be desired. Free electricity and free bus rides for women demonstrated a political will to prioritise the welfare of the poor, though the same amount could have been used for long-term structural improvements in the living conditions of the poor. Besides this, the Delhi Model did little for improving the urban infrastructure, the condition of Dilli dehat, waste management and addressing water and air pollution. A partial improvement in some respects, but not a model by any means.
I worry because the defeat of AAP could signal the political erasure of the “bottom of the pyramid” from the policy and politics of the city-state. For all its limitations, the AAP offered protection to the vast majority of Dilliwalas forced to live an unauthorised existence. It assured the poor, recent migrants and Dalits that their numbers would be respected, that they could be heard. The coming of the BJP — with the agenda of world-class city, riverfront and all — could mean an invisibilisation of Delhi’s real majority. The victory of the likes of Kapil Mishra and Ravinder Negi is bound to sanctify bigotry and leave Muslims more vulnerable than they already are.
I worry because a victory in Delhi takes the BJP one step forward in its quest for total political dominance. This may well be the beginning of the BJP’s attempt, backed by the obedient governmental agencies, to vanquish this irritant and a potential challenger for ever. The BJP’s victory would end up legitimising a decade of illegitimate interference in the functioning of NCT government by the Centre through the LG. This victory pushes under the carpet the partisan conduct of the Election Commission and the absence of anything like a level playing field during the elections.
I also worry because the failure of the AAP experiment could shut the door for attempts at alternative politics for some time to come. Someone could argue that cutting AAP to size was necessary for genuine pro-people and secular politics to emerge in the city and the country. Indeed, there is a vast constituency of marginalised Delhi that would be looking for its political voice, if AAP vacates this space. But in real life, there is no guarantee of if and when this space may be meaningfully occupied by an alternative force. Till then, anyone who enters public life promising honest politics would invite a smirk. That is why I worry. And so should you.
The writer is member, Swaraj India, and national convenor of Bharat Jodo Abhiyaan. Views are personal