Mr. Kejriwal had made it clear that he did not wish to govern with the support of his bugbear, the Congress. He had hoped the winds of change would uproot and carry away the old, well-entrenched trees, leaving him to only sweep aside the leaves that might fall during the exercise. Chopping down the timber with broomsticks was mission impossible. That his constituents, through an SMS referendum, thrust him into the forest, entrusting him with this unenviable task might well have shaken his own faith in the supremacy of collective wisdom over the consensus forged by a statesman's counsel. But, true to his word, he did march on, albeit after including a convenient escape clause in his covenant with his constituents: if the Congress were to oppose his any act, whimsical or wise, he would come back to them to seek a mandate of majority. We know the Congress is ticklish and temperamental, and he began to prod, prick and poke them with his broomstick, hoping they'd fail to remain stubbornly wooden. Of course,were the Congress to renege on its support, he could persuade his voters to authorize him to unilaterally and unflinchingly wield the axe he has long been grinding to turn the timber into lumber.
And so, he took to office announcing he would investigate the allegations of corruption against senior Congress leaders, but given its experience of the tardiness of the Indian legal system, the party remained unfazed. Then, braving the cold tremors, he strut down and shut down the streets of Delhi trying to get the Congress-led Union Government to place the Delhi Police under the Delhi Government's watch. The Congress would not do it, unsurprisingly, because no sane political strategist will validate the clamor of their rival, no matter how virtuous and right the cause may be. But, the inconvenienced Delhi citizen was beginning to doubt her choice, and Mr. Kejriwal returned to the warm confines of his office - the Lt. Governor having offered him an escape along with the hot paranthas - so as to not lose the warmth of the people.
In the meantime, Mr. Kejriwal did, through shrewd book balancing and clever budgeting, make good on his promise of free water of up to 700L a day, slashed power tariffs for the consumer by letting the exchequer pay the difference - even though that too was public money, and gave a 50% waiver on unpaid electricity bills to everyone who had, under his leadership, protested against the high power prices by rending apart their bills. But, perhaps, he knew he had to act fast and have Delhi go to the polls around the same time as the general elections, lest any Modi wave should have the lotus bloom!
He decided to table the Jan Lokpal Bill, a bill he was sure the Congress and BJP would not let him pass into law, suicidal as they weren't. Yet, in opposing the bill, they'd have contacted the canker that would lead to their electoral demise. Unfortunately for him, Delhi's status as the National Capital Territory comes with restrictions on the legislature's functioning, and any new bill has to be vetted by the Union Home Ministry before it can be tabled in the state assembly. He may be right in calling this Central check unconstitutional, but, for once, he erred. He has always talked of demolishing the wrongly wrought walls, but, perhaps constrained by the imminent general elections, chose to clamber over this particular wall, without appealing to the wrecking crew that is the judiciary. Suddenly, he was violating the procedures of law and established conventions of the assembly, and his rivals had the upper hand. They urged him to route the bill through the proper channel, which, they were sure, had a sealed sluice gate at the North Block. Mr. Kejriwal refused and sought a leave for the introduction of the bill and was, as expected, denied by the Congress and the BJP. Fuming, he resigned, blaming the Congress and the BJP for trying to shield the corrupt by not allowing him to pass the Lokpal Bill. The devil, as always, is in the details.
The Congress and the BJP voted not on the provisions of the bill, but on its high-handed introduction. Mr. Kejriwal, in hastily attempting political martyrdom, may well have slipped into a vegetative state. His purpose would have been attained had he either got the Union Home Ministry rebuked in a court of law for its unconstitutional overreach, or sent the bill to the Ministry's consideration. The Congress-led UPA would not have blessed the bill, and he could have been indignant at them and impugned them for guarding their own gangrenous limbs. Now, he only cuts the figure of a leader sullen at not being allowed to have his way. I'm not very politically astute, but that is not the trait of an apostle of the rule of law and a proponent of participatory decision-making, is it? Was the broomstick actually a font for the sweeping powers he aspired to?
And so, he took to office announcing he would investigate the allegations of corruption against senior Congress leaders, but given its experience of the tardiness of the Indian legal system, the party remained unfazed. Then, braving the cold tremors, he strut down and shut down the streets of Delhi trying to get the Congress-led Union Government to place the Delhi Police under the Delhi Government's watch. The Congress would not do it, unsurprisingly, because no sane political strategist will validate the clamor of their rival, no matter how virtuous and right the cause may be. But, the inconvenienced Delhi citizen was beginning to doubt her choice, and Mr. Kejriwal returned to the warm confines of his office - the Lt. Governor having offered him an escape along with the hot paranthas - so as to not lose the warmth of the people.
In the meantime, Mr. Kejriwal did, through shrewd book balancing and clever budgeting, make good on his promise of free water of up to 700L a day, slashed power tariffs for the consumer by letting the exchequer pay the difference - even though that too was public money, and gave a 50% waiver on unpaid electricity bills to everyone who had, under his leadership, protested against the high power prices by rending apart their bills. But, perhaps, he knew he had to act fast and have Delhi go to the polls around the same time as the general elections, lest any Modi wave should have the lotus bloom!
He decided to table the Jan Lokpal Bill, a bill he was sure the Congress and BJP would not let him pass into law, suicidal as they weren't. Yet, in opposing the bill, they'd have contacted the canker that would lead to their electoral demise. Unfortunately for him, Delhi's status as the National Capital Territory comes with restrictions on the legislature's functioning, and any new bill has to be vetted by the Union Home Ministry before it can be tabled in the state assembly. He may be right in calling this Central check unconstitutional, but, for once, he erred. He has always talked of demolishing the wrongly wrought walls, but, perhaps constrained by the imminent general elections, chose to clamber over this particular wall, without appealing to the wrecking crew that is the judiciary. Suddenly, he was violating the procedures of law and established conventions of the assembly, and his rivals had the upper hand. They urged him to route the bill through the proper channel, which, they were sure, had a sealed sluice gate at the North Block. Mr. Kejriwal refused and sought a leave for the introduction of the bill and was, as expected, denied by the Congress and the BJP. Fuming, he resigned, blaming the Congress and the BJP for trying to shield the corrupt by not allowing him to pass the Lokpal Bill. The devil, as always, is in the details.
The Congress and the BJP voted not on the provisions of the bill, but on its high-handed introduction. Mr. Kejriwal, in hastily attempting political martyrdom, may well have slipped into a vegetative state. His purpose would have been attained had he either got the Union Home Ministry rebuked in a court of law for its unconstitutional overreach, or sent the bill to the Ministry's consideration. The Congress-led UPA would not have blessed the bill, and he could have been indignant at them and impugned them for guarding their own gangrenous limbs. Now, he only cuts the figure of a leader sullen at not being allowed to have his way. I'm not very politically astute, but that is not the trait of an apostle of the rule of law and a proponent of participatory decision-making, is it? Was the broomstick actually a font for the sweeping powers he aspired to?
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