He can’t be slotted easily into any ‘camp’, an intellectual who is perhaps far more comfortable in the rarefied environs of literature festival than in cabals of Congress politics
“If the Congress does not need my services, I do have plenty of other options…” Shashi Tharoor on a Malayalam language podcast.
In the age of frenzied media noise, a single tweet or a neatly clipped 20 second soundbite can spark off a swirling controversy. Congress leader Shashi Tharoor, not for the first time, finds himself under the scanner for what he said, or rather didn’t quite say, in a recent interview. The Sahitya Akademi winning author listed his ‘options’ to active politics as book writing, lectures and much more but the instant reaction was to presume that another Congress leader was preparing to fly the coop and switch sides when all he was arguably doing was making a persuasive case for himself as a party nominee for Kerala chief minister.
In recent years, the list of high profile Congress functionaries exiting the grand old party is a rather lengthy one. A majority of them have left to join the BJP-led ruling alliance, a clear sign that the scent of power remains the ultimate magnet in politics. A few of them like Jyotiraditya Scindia, Jitin Prasada and Milind Deora for example had privileged access to the Congress’ first family and yet chose to part ways. Other senior leaders like Himanta Biswa Sarma and Captain Amarinder Singh left after they found themselves on the wrong side of internal power politics.
Tharoor’s case is a bit different. At the outset, he doesn’t fit into the stereotypical Congress neta mould. Far from being an entitled dynast, a family friend of the Gandhis or someone who has wormed his way up the Congress ladder, the suave and articulate former United Nations diplomat turned MP represents a dying breed in Indian politics: a self-made meritorious individual whose career path combines the best of scholarship, hard work and skill.
When Tharoor first made the switch from the UN bureaucracy to the hurly burly of electoral politics, there were the usual sniggers, a belief that he was just another ambitious lateral entrant who would fall flat soon enough. His ‘Stephanian’ accent, unique vocabulary, personal life and loves were all seen to be unsuited to India’s more conservative political milieu.
And yet, through all the storms in his private and political life, Tharoor has stuck it out as a four time elected MP from Thiruvananthapuram, no mean achievement in a seat where the Left has a solid base and where the BJP has attempted to grow one. He may have punched above his weight at times – most notably when he threw his hat in the Congress president election ring in 2022 – but few can deny that he is one of the few English speaking ‘outsiders’ who has succeeded despite being stymied by an entrenched party system. As I detail in my book, ‘2024: The Election That Surprised India’, Tharoor’s bid for Congress presidency was fought on a completely non level playing field: Congress delegates were warned in some instances by party officials to stay far away from his campaign. That he still got over 1,000 votes in the contest suggests that his appeal within party ranks was greater than expected.
Part of Tharoor’s problem is that he can’t be slotted easily into any ‘camp’ , a public intellectual who is perhaps far more comfortable in the rarefied environs of a literature festival than in the cabals and coteries of Congress politics. Even when his name was propped up as part of the G 23 – the grouping that was reportedly pushing for change in the Congress – it wasn’t easy to see him spearheading a rebellion or coup in the Congress. Maybe his starkly individualistic style has meant that every time he supports a Modi government idea – be it on the economy or foreign policy – he is instantly viewed with suspicion by those within the Congress who claim to be waging a no holds barred ‘war’ against the Modi-BJP-RSS ‘machine’. So deep are the anxieties and insecurities within a ‘closed door’ political system that there is an ever shrinking space for anyone who wishes to express even a mildly contrarian opinion.
But a genuinely democratic party should never ossify into an echo chamber of sycophants. Sadly, that’s the case with most of our political parties which is why Tharoor becomes a soft target for his critics within the Congress. Paradoxically, it is Tharoor’s attempt to rise above the hyper-polarisation of a deeply divided polity that makes him such an attractive leader for the voter, if not the party. If the Congress has lost a large chunk of the urban middle class vote in particular in recent times it is because the party has got boxed into a narrow ideological construct where it finds it increasingly difficult to appeal to a large fence-sitting populace who have no strong political loyalties. This group of voters is looking for a positive alternative for change, one revolving around a broad-based agenda of inclusivity and growth, not an Opposition which is simply driven by a slough of negativism. As an avowed Nehruvian secularist who has repeatedly challenged the BJP’s idea of Hindutva while also espousing a liberal outlook on economic issues, Tharoor’s arguments offer an important ideological counterpoint to divisive saffronised politics as indeed he does to the left’s sterile Stalinism.
Which is also why Tharoor might just be the right person to be projected as a Congress ‘face’ in Kerala, a state where winning the floating vote outside vocal cadre-based interests is crucial to electoral success. Kerala, in fact, is arguably the only state where the Congress might have a genuine shot at victory on its own in the next two year cycle of state elections. But as has been the case in so many other states, the Congress’s capacity to score self-goals cannot be underestimated and having several chief ministerial candidates in a deeply factionalised state unit is a recipe for potential disaster. In the circumstances, is the Congress leadership ready to break with the status quo for once and take the ‘risk’ of elevating Tharoor as a possible Kerala chief minister? It may not be the worst choice a beleaguered party has made in recent times.
Post-script: At a recent dinner, a friend asked why I had never thought of entering politics. I referred to the case of Tharoor and chuckled, ‘I guess some of us are far better off as talking heads in a TV studio and writing books on politics than actually being participants.’
(Rajdeep Sardesai is a senior journalist and author.)
