IT seemed it would be a short stint in Lok Sabha for Bhakta Charan Das, who represents Kalahandi, Orissa's poverty and famine-stricken constituency. In September, barely four months after he took oath as an MP, he threatened to quit his membership when the Chair refused him permission on 'technical grounds' to raise the issue of 200 deaths in Kalahandi. In fact, he was pulled up for disorderly conduct and barred from speaking on the subject for the whole day.
The Speaker later relented and allowed Das to make the submission the same day. But the young parliamentarian was already convinced that Lok Sabha was not an adequate forum to debate the problems of his people. However, before he could submit his resignation, former prime minister Chandra Shekhar—his political mentor—intervened, saying, "You should not give in; rather try to make Parliament an effective forum. It has lost its relevance, but let us not run away like cowards." Five months later, Chandra Shekhar is all set to embark on a wider mission—not in search of issues, but to seek people's involvement in solving their problems like illiteracy, unemployment, institutional corruption. He is attempting to foster a people's movement to revitalise institutions for their larger good and to herald socio-political reforms. And though poverty is not Kalahandi specific, the constituency is prominent on Shekhar's itinerary, which will take him through many other states.
But even as Shekhar gives final shape to his campaign, his very name attracts more cynicism and hostility than support from political quarters. For them, Shekhar's has been a disappointing transformation. Initiated into politics by socialist leader and thinker Acharya Narendra Dev, Shekhar rose to fame as a crusader against socio-economic disparity and a champion of inner-party democracy as a 'young turk'. But after the mid-'70s his reputation took a battering. And in November 1990, when he accepted Rajiv Gandhi's support to replace the National Front government led by V.P. Singh, his former socialist colleagues berated him for "opportunistic politics". A charge he invited again when he struck an alliance with the Bharatiya Janata Party in the 1996 general elections. "Anti-corruption has been a dominating issue in the post-Bofors elections (1989 and onwards). Given Shekhar's insensitivity to the corrupt and corruption, he cannot lead an effective campaign," says a senior parliamentarian, who has fallen out with Shekhar after an association of more than two decades.
Shekhar, however, is unperturbed: "You can call me a patron of and counsel for the corrupt and corruption. But if we support a policy that is for opening the floodgates to transna-tionals (TNCs), not one but many Bofors will take place. You encourage institutional corruption, and raise a hue and cry over individual corruption. That is how TNCs function." Shekhar says he wants his campaign to be above party politics and free of the culture of political vilification, claiming that his intention is to take Indian society forward, not to highlight the weaknesses and failures of any political grouping. "After all, we all have been responsible for the rot in the system and its growing insensitivity towards the peoples' problems," he notes.
His decision to launch the campaign is the result of a year-long dialogue with economists, NGOs, students and fellow politicians. Some of them have also been engaged in assessing developmental activities, government claims and socio-economic realities. Among the issues he plans to place before the people are Parliament's growing ineffectiveness and increasing judicial activism, which Shekhar thinks is an aberration and will impede healthy interaction among constitutional wings.
A preliminary draft of his campaign agenda emphasises the need to restore people's faith in politics, noting that ending corruption, especially institutional corruption, would be a necessary precondition. Also on the agenda are austerity in public life, 100 per cent literacy in five years through compulsory involvement of university students and teachers, a ban on big companies and TNCs from getting into specified cottage and small industries sectors, effective medical services in every village, adequate roads and access to water and electricity.
While established politicians have so far kept away, students from about 150 universities and various other individuals have responded favourably. "It is an all-party, or non-party, matter. I am going beyond parties," says Shekhar. "Any initiative which is intended to bring about political reforms from a platform much above partisan politics deserves full cooperation," says Janardan Dwivedi, an influential Congress leader and a former AICC joint secretary.
Shekhar's political isolation raises doubts about the mission's viability. Notwithstanding his various vices, there is no denying his undiluted commitment to ideals he holds dear and his refusal to be party to political untouchability. So, while he has grilled L.K. Advani and P.V. Narasimha Rao for the Ayodhya demolition, he maintains social contact with them. He has the courage to stand up against the tide and tell the masses, "I am right and you are wrong."
"You are free to your views. But I am not going to change mine under pressure," he said at an election meeting at Balia in December 1984 when the electorate jeered and booed him for his criticism of Operation Bluestar. Twelve years later, he stood up alone in Parliament to denounce a judge who had passed sweeping and generalised remarks against politicians in Kalpnath Rai's TADA case. Privately, he has spoken to Prime Minister H.D. Deve Gowda to 'restore' the executive's right (through legislation) to appoint judges in consultation—and not necessarily concurrence—with the chief justice.
But these were symbolic moves and the issues he plans to raise now need a larger forum for 'redressal'. "I want to make use of Parliament as a forum, but priorities are certainly different now," Shekhar told supporters when they wanted him to resign from Parliament and concentrate on the campaign. But he does not seem averse to getting out of parliamentary politics, if necessary, for a larger cause. For him, it's both a duty and a panacea. And perhaps the last opportunity to live up to the public expectations which his name once inspired.
