Mamata Banerjee and I go back a long way. “Will you make a good wife?” I had asked Mamata when I first interviewed her in 1986. Educated at St Xavier’s College, Calcutta (Father Huart), and Sunday (M.J. Akbar), I was 27 and on a roll. Mamata was 31. “I can cook, sing and dance like any other Bengali girl. I know typing. I also believe in washing and ironing my clothes. But I don’t intend to get married,” the petite politician told the naive reporter who now realises, much to his embarrassment, that you don’t ask ladies such personal questions.
Whether it was crass or classy journalism, the exchange is recorded for posterity on page 22-23 of The Illustrated Weekly of India dated March 16, 1986, in my story titled Spitfire.
I saw Mamata from hand-shaking distance in the Raj Bhavan just before she was sworn in as CM. Mahasweta Devi, human rights icon and Magsaysay award-winning author, sat in the front row with P. Chidambaram and Pranab Mukherjee at the coronation. Before climbing the dais where the governor waited to administer her the oath of office, Mamata walked briskly to Mahasweta, bent down and hugged her. From my vantage point in the second row—sandwiched between Nayana Bandopadhyay (Union minister Sudip Bandopadhyay’s wife) and actress Rachna Banerjee—I scanned Mamata’s chubby face, glowing with happiness as she embraced her idol.
One year on—and 26 years after that candid interview—I’m trying to ascertain if Mamata’s been a good or bad CM so far.
Mamata is a good girl; her personal integrity is unsullied. But times are bad. Her government and party are mired in scandals. No one’s more aware than Didi of the beating her own image has taken in just 12 months. A big chunk of civil society, which she once called her conscience, has lost confidence in her. Mahasweta has already branded her fascist: the unkindest cut of all. Newspapers and TV channels which lustily cheered her march to power are now scathingly critical.
I have a few suggestions. Mamata should go to the National Library (or ABP Library where Shakti Roy, ex-Library of Congress, will gladly make her comfortable) and read up on the Left Front’s first and second term in power. The decade of 1977-1987 was the golden period of Communist rule and certainly worth recreating for the greater good of Bengal.
Marxists were courteous and nice to everyone, ensuring peace and progress in that phase. Bengal heaved a sigh of relief after the traumatic experience of United Front regimes, Congress rule and Emergency. Marxism became a byword for good governance. However, post-’87, the Communists lost the plot. But they were still re-elected; voters gave them the benefit of doubt because of their good deeds for 10 years. Ultimately, when Communists degenerated into blood-sucking agents of capitalism, they were voted out.
Mamata should quietly take a leaf out of Jyoti Basu’s book. She should adopt the great helmsman’s guiding principles and state policies from 1977 to 1987. Luckily, there are no copyright issues involved. Those long-discarded Communist mantras will help Mamata recoup.
Secondly, Mamata must give her vocal chords a break. Her problems stem from talking too much and too often in public. She should shun the media, especially electronic, for a few months. Let the chief secretary, home secretary, DGP and police commissioner speak on the government’s behalf. Their mess can be papered over. A CM’s goof-up is impossible to live down.
Thirdly, Mamata should rightaway disband her culture clan. Good painters, singers, directors or actors have little or no time to waste on politicians anyway. So patronising the likes of Dwijen Mukhopadhyay, Shuvaprasanna or Saonli Mitra is not worth it. Indira Gandhi once requested Satyajit Ray to make a documentary on Nehru. The maestro excused himself saying it was too early to assess Nehru’s role in history. He did not latch on to Indira’s invitation and try to exploit her. Mamata should shoo away directors wanting to film her life!
Fourthly, Mamata must revoke her decision to pay stipends to imams from state coffers. The monthly allowance of Rs 2,500 to 30,000 imams amounts to bribing clerics and incites non-Muslims to hate Muslims. It denigrates Muslims, comprising 26 per cent of the electorate. Imams—or Urdu newspapers—hardly have any influence on Muslim voters. Paid imams can probably garner 60,000 votes—theirs and their wives’. And many more Muslims read Bengali or English newspapers than Urdu dailies. So why pander to imams or Urdu newspaper owners strutting as editors?
Mamata must religiously refrain from PDA—public display of arrogance—never mind the provocation. The common man adores polite rulers. And she must somehow woo back Mahasweta. So that, like Shashi Kapoor in Deewar, Mamata can boast—Mere paas Ma(hasweta) hai!
(Abdi won a UN media award for his Bhagalpur blindings story.)
