WHEN CAMPAIGN TRAILS WERE CARNIVALS
(L-R) NTR in his Chaitanya Ratham; wall drawings in Tamil Nadu; and Indira Gandhi on a padyatra in 1976. and party hiring agencies to run their campaigns. The emphasis is also on road shows, with huge crowds, large convoys, and high decibel music.
Senior journalists look back at a pretech era when charismatic leaders, great oratory skills, and a personal touch won over voters.
Fun after 8 p.m.
A.S. Panneerselvan, former Readers’ Editor of The Hindu,
recalls elections being like carnivals. “When we covered elections as young journalists, the fun would start after 8 p.m. Now, campaigns have to end at 10 p.m. Those were the days when political parties would hold musical concerts and stage plays,” he says, remembering how plays such as Parasakhti, by Tamil scholar Pavalar Balasundaram, had a strong social message (on the abuse of religion and the State’s apathy), during the 1952 elections. “I have seen plays by M.G. Ramachandran and Karunanidhi. They were creative and highvoltage, written for the campaign, and had a direct impact on voters. All that is gone now.”
In the tussle between accountability and restrictions, tools such as poetry, song and musical nights have faded into oblivion.
Orators and electrifying speeches
Senior journalist Rajdeep Sardesai, who has been covering the elections since 1989, recalls a greater sense of public involvement back in the day. “We would see a lot of posters, hoardings and pamphlets being distributed. The entire country used to wear a festive look,” he says. “Once I followed George Fernandes on his campaign trail. He wooed voters with his simplicity. Wearing the traditional kurtapyjama, he would sit with them, have tea and deliberate on local issues.”
Then there were leaders who had the ability to connect with the masses at large public meetings. Bal Thackeray and Atal Bihari
Vajpayee always stood out, he says. “In one election, sometime in the mid90s, I was covering a Shiv Sena rally at Shivaji Park in Mumbai. The moment Thackeray came on stage the atmosphere became electrifying. He mesmerised the crowd with his oratory skills and witty punchlines. Atal ji was the same.”
Larger-than-life personalities
Journalist Monideepa Banerjie recalls witnessing the draw of a personality when she covered Jayalalithaa in 1986. The actorturnedpolitician was seeking reelection from Bodinayakanur, in Tamil Nadu’s Theni district. “People from the neighbouring villages would rush to get a glimpse of her. In those days, the crowds used to be smaller and the meetings simpler. There was a sense of intimacy between the leader and the people,” she says. “Now, meetings are larger and more sanitised.”
When voters stated their intent
Once upon a time, the response to a campaign was often a good indicator of the election trend. During her
1977 general election coverage, Neerja Chowdhury recalls, “The people in Delhi were silent. There were murmurs of ‘Let the election come and we will teach Ms. Indira Gandhi a lesson’.”
A meeting in western Uttar Pradesh comes to mind. “Actor Dilip Kumar had come to campaign for her. The moment his speech was over, and Ms. Gandhi came out to speak, we saw the crowd leaving. It was a clear indicator; even she sensed it,” Chowdhury says. This is not the case today, with orchestrated crowds. The spontaneity is missing.
Another memory of strong crowd reactions is from V.P. Singh’s campaign. “In 1989, Singh had come out of Rajiv Gandhi’s Congress government, which had 414 seats in the Lok Sabha. He took on its might by assimilating all the nonCongress parties to forge the National Front. People across Bihar and U.P. would stand on the road, even in the dead of the night, with lamps to get a glimpse of him. They wanted change and it was evident in the election air.”