Punjab election discourse: From first-world problems to humble povertarianism
As Punjab prepares to elect its new government on February 20, the mahaul (mood) is different from what it was five years ago. In 2017, the big electoral issue was the rampant abuse of recreational drugs allegedly facilitated by a politically controlled supply chain. This time, it is cold, hard ground realities.
Congress leader Rahul Gandhi announced Charanjit Singh Channi as the party’s chief ministerial candidate, saying the people wanted a “garib ghar ka beta” (son from a poor home) to lead the state, the Shiromani Akali Dal (SAD)’s Badals are promising free treatment in government hospitals, where it is nearly free already, and the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP)’s Arvind Kejriwal is pledging to replicate the Delhi model of sarkari schools and mohalla clinics.
The Congress, the original political purveyor of povertarianism and welfare economics, finds itself hardpressed to hold on to the crown when every new player is more aam (ordinary) than previous ones, affluent candidates stealing the ticket distribution show notwithstanding. This time, there is more free ration, cash handouts to women, increased units of free electricity, and low-end public sector jobs to address the issue — as though it will — of Punjabi youth emigrating to the West en masse.
Though senior Akali leader Bikram Majithia was booked in a drugs case before the elections and there was the odd seizure of drugs sent in through drones from across the border, narcotics as an election issue has been rather muted. In the run-up to the 2017 polls, Kejriwal had threatened to drag Majithia to jail if his party came to power. An unsuccessful bid and a defamation case later, Kejriwal tendered a public apology, a fact opponents are quick to latch on to if the AAP leader refers to the issue of narcotics in the current campaign. Captain Amarinder Singh, too, led the Congress’s campaign with a promise to wipe out the drug menace within days of taking charge. His tenure has come and gone, but suppliers have still got the goods and users are still high on their fix; but the political discourse has descended from first-world problems to humble povertarianism, like the low that follows a euphoric high. If a mischievous creative enterprise were to be undertaken by a politically driven filmmaker, it could hypothetically be called Ujda (deserted) Punjab, dedicated to every young man and woman who has either left or is looking to leave the place. Fortunately, the polls are upon us and there’s no time to inflict another Udta Punjab-type audiovisual assault on unknowing audiences.
Punjab is also faced with grim economic realities and the post-pandemic recovery has lagged, as a granular data analysis by Vaidik Dalal of How India Lives explained in HT. Current agrarian practices are far from sustainable environmentally and the state has lost out on industrialisation to Haryana, which enjoys proximity to Delhi, and Himachal Pradesh, owing to concessions for hilly states.
The celebratory rhetoric around the farmers’ victory in getting the three agri-trade laws rolled back late last year has given way to the inexorable realisation that the status quo ante won back with much struggle is hardly liveable either. The agitation galvanised Punjabis for a cause but also laid bare the alienation people feel at the hands of legacy parties, which is part of the reason why the AAP is looking to tap voters’ resentment by asking for “ik mauka” (one chance). Legacy parties are trying to break the mould too, with the SAD (Badal), traditionally backed by land-owning farmers, tying up with the Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP) to woo disadvantaged sections and the Congress banking on Channi’s Dalit identity in the state where the community has the highest proportional representation but political power has largely been vested in the Jats. The AAP’s Bhagwant Mann and SAD (B)’s Sukhbir Badal are Jats. The verdict on March 10 will, therefore, be interesting from a sociological point of view too.
Punjab, much like Bengal and Tamil Nadu, has a strong sense of subnationalism, as reflected in the collective pride on display when protesting farmers were feted on their return. “The victory over Dilli’s hukumat (power) means something even though our economic situation remains what it was,” says an old man who was part of the movement. “City folk have a lot going for them but we the villagers have fallen behind. Our boys don’t necessarily make it to premium colleges but they don’t get forced back by water cannons on winter mornings either.” Having braved the cannons, more of those boys will be seen at immigration consultants’ offices than at the hustings, their sights set on icier pastures in colder North American climes.