When Robert Fullenwider compared politicians to garbage collectors, he did not have the former prime minister of India, Deve Gowda, and his 'kumara' in mind. He only meant that we should expect both vocations to stink. But on October 3, 2007 the smell of Karnataka politics left its competitor far behind. On that day Deve Gowda's son refused to vacate the chief minister's seat after enjoying power for 20 months and reneged on the commitment to transfer power to its BJP ally. Newspaper headlines screamed 'betrayal' and then forgot about it.
My friends in Karnataka tell me that they were not surprised. Deve Gowda has a reputation for betraying friends. Before Yediyurappa, he betrayed Dharam Singh, and prior to that Bangarappa. Earlier he ditched Ramakrishna Hegde to become an astonished candidate for prime minister. My friends said, 'what were the BJP idiots thinking when they made the deal!' Deve Gowda remembered suddenly that the BJP is 'communal' and with this act of treachery he joined the renowned company of Charan Singh and Devi Lal, who also forced untimely elections on innocent citizens.
How do Karnataka's proud citizens feel about this act of betrayal? Citizens in a democracy place trust in the state and its rulers. When this trust is betrayed, psychologists tell us that citizens feel angry and in extreme cases suffer 'psychological betrayal trauma', which is similar to post traumatic stress disorder. This happens especially when a person is wrongly arrested by the state or a soldier is sent to fight in an unjust war. But when people expect their politicians to smell like garbage, they shrug their shoulders and feel diminished. A Kanadiga lady said sadly, 'There is honour even among thieves!'
Lest the children of my Kanadiga friends grow up thinking that this is how grownups should behave—break promises and betray friends--I want to remind them of Karna in the Mahabharata. When Karna discovers his real mother and realises that he is on the wrong side in the war, he refuses to switch sides. He has given his word to Duryodhana and he must be loyal to his commitment. He adds that one's identity is not determined by birth but by upbringing. Thus, he does not exchange his adopted, low born parents for genetic royal ones. His own charioteer, Shalya, on the other hand, is in Deve Gowda's mould, and has no problem in betraying Karna.
Ever since Sartre's play, Dirty Hands, we have got used to thinking that our politicians are exempt from the moral rules that apply to us in private life. The vocation of politics requires one to have 'dirty hands' for public figures must fulfill an impartial role, which authorizes them to use violence forbidden to individuals. If I stick a gun to a rich man to collect Rs 20,000 from his pocket, I am guilty of robbery. But when P Chidambaram collects Rs 20,000 from me to improve schools, it is an education cess. Thomas Nagel, the philosopher, makes this point forcefully. Is this why Americans condoned President Truman for dropping the atomic bomb on Hiroshima?
A fresher sense of betrayal is what another American President, George W. Bush, will experience if India violates the nuclear treaty. Manmohan Singh, with clean hands, looked him in the eye and Bush went on to invest huge personal political capital in this deal. His state department will remind him that India is as unreliable as Deve Gowda. But the hopes of many Indians, who worry about the military alliance of China with Pakistan, will also be betrayed. Perhaps it is true, politicians must have dirty hands.