Political brats are more brattish than others…

Newspapers have reported that the police in Jalandhar have booked a case against a young man, who happens to be the son of the incumbent mayor. The son’s offence was that he had, rather lordly, left his car parked right in the middle of the road. Perhaps, there was no parking space easily available, and if you are the mayor’s son, there is that unconscious sense of entitlement. Civic manners? What is that? Inconvenience to others? So be it. What is the use of being a mayor's son if one cannot behave as per one’s whims and fancies? 

The only fly in the mayoral ointment was that just at that time a judge happened to be travelling on the same road. And, the judge was accompanied by his wife who also happens to be a judge. A double whammy. Their lordships were inconvenienced. They also had a security detail with them. The security people were in a position to object — and, they did object. 

The mayoral son was not amused at being reminded of the rules and regulations. There was a scene. The police were summoned and the offending first son of the city was “booked.” 

Now no one should entertain any particular sense of satisfaction that the ‘law’ intervened. The police would not have dared to intervene against the mayoral son had the two inconvenienced citizens not been sitting judges. Make no mistake about it. 

The Jalandhar kerfuffle is only a small picture postcard of a larger phenomenon. Such incidents of brats of powerful people throwing their weight around happen in all cities and towns. Those in power assume — and, the others seem to concede — that they are somehow entitled to a different set of privileges. Such as, they should not be made to join the queue at the airport, or stop at the red light, or pay taxes. The presumably ‘powerful’ does not feel powerful if he/she has to submit to the rules by which other citizens abide. Some derive a sense of power and potency from being surrounded by police guards and Black Cats. Those who become controversial, get ‘Z plus security’ — such as the RSS chief and Baba Ramdev. 

What is more, the official paraphernalia surrounding the ‘powerful’ encourages, even initiates, him or her into a special world of privileges and entitlements. Often, the sons and daughters are most vulnerable to this infection. Wise public figures ensure that their children remain inoculated against this virus. Those who do not, pay a price. 

It was against this “VVIP culture” that the Aam Aadmi Party had worked up the Delhi citizens and showed two established political parties, the Congress and the BJP, their places.

The longer a political party stays in power, the more insensitive its functionaries and ‘cadres’ become to rules and regulations. The Akali-BJP combine has ruled in Punjab for a decade and it is only natural that even its middle-level functionaries and their children should have internalised a kind of arrogance that flows from a sense of special entitlement, a sense of immunity. Jalandhar happens.

Last Thursday, I found myself inaugurating an exhibition of ‘Politics, through cartoons’ at DAV College (Sector 10, Chandigarh). In fact, it was easy to persuade me to undertake this task because the request came from the Department of Political Science and because the sketches were made by political science students.

The faculty had come up with this creative idea to have the students express themselves on the political scene and its actors through the medium of cartoons. The result was quite impressive. Some of the undergrads seem to have a fine sense of irony.

That visit made me think about the state of the art of political cartoons. There was a time when it was a ‘must’ for any decent newspaper to have a decent inhouse cartoonist. 

To be a good political cartoonist, one needs to be a good artist, have a flair for drawing. And, one needs to be also an astute political observer, a shrewd judge of men and women. It is a consuming passion, and the artist is always working things out in his mind.

The political cartoon is the most difficult part of print journalism. There was a time when we in this country had educated political leaders who read and respected newspapers. And a cartoon is easily understood and appreciated — but, it is also resented. 

A cartoon is meant to distort and caricature, ridicule and satirise, bring out the personality traits which a Big Man or Big Woman may want to be left alone. A cartoon is more potent than a written piece. Even an unlettered person can understand a cartoon and, laugh at the pompous and the ponderous public figure. It is an unsparing instrument. The motto of a political cartoonist, according to one scholar, must be “to afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted.”

Once we had that venerable publication called the Shankar’s Weekly. Week after week, the magazine would have cartoons and sketches, with commentary. A whole generation of cartoonists, including Abu Abraham, NK Ranga and PKS Kutty, earned their spurs in this weekly. It was a unique venture, making India laugh at the political leaders in the 1950s and the 1960s. It naturally got closed down during the Emergency.

A leader who enjoys the confidence and respect of the people is a difficult subject for a cartoonist. For years, Nehru was untouchable. Being a democratic soul, Nehru would have not taken any offence. But no Indian cartoonist could summon the audacity to draw him unflatteringly. So much so, once Nehru had to famously tell Shankar: “Don’t spare me, Shankar.”

On the other hand, Nehru’s colleagues made easy prey for the cartoonists. Krishna Menon’s lanky, gaunt, quasi-starved frame lent itself easily to the caricaturist’s pen. Morarji Desai, with his stern, un-amused, scowling demeanour, often got the rough brush. Govind Ballabh Pant’s walrus-mustache came in handy, as did Indira Gandhi’s beak-like curve of the nose that was picked by RK Laxman to convey her imperial haughtiness. 

Even before the Shankar’s Weekly went out of business, Laxman had emerged as the tallest and most perceptive cartoonist. His “common man” touched every Indian’s heart. But his political cartoons were equally impressive, as well as deadly.

The undisputed sway that the political cartoonist used to have is gone. Partly because new television and new technology have changed the way the news is processed and presented. No one has stepped into Laxman’s shoes yet.

If I were granted one wish, I would want to bestow a national honour on Virat Kohli. Not for his cricket prowess. But for his courage in telling the social media trolling community to lay off Anushka Sharma, his cine star friend.

Virat Kohli used a triumphant moment to tell off trollers. He was basking in national adulation, after his wonderful, match-saving performance against Australia at Mohali last Sunday. He had the licence to say anything. But he needed to have some character, also. 

It still required considerable courage and conviction to take on the rampant crowd of trollers. He chose to remind us of the gracelessness of it all. In India, social media has brought out our ugly and baser instincts, and our boorish thoughts and behaviours have acquired respectability. 

It would seem that the new technology has been used deliberately by groups and cabals to instigate hostility and negativity in society. Trolls thrive in this atmosphere of cultivated cynicism and fashionable bad-mouthism. And now, one seems to mind the passing away of social graces of good, polite manners. Virat Kohli, a young man, broke ranks to forcefully suggest what the professional political demagogues or social reformers or spiritual gurus or the shouting anchors should have done long ago. 

An act of courage from Kohli would not put an end to this trolling business. But, it does give encouragement to all those who want to resist the creepy culture of malice and ugliness. 

A few days ago, I got a communication from a reader of Bathinda: “Your column last week on why violence was spreading in our society got my wife and me chatting for a long time. Both of us had our own take and I will not bore you with that. But, we found a poem by Surjit Patar that resonated with both of us. In its own way, this poem could provide some answers, talking as it does about ‘getting ahead’ and ‘leaving others behind.’

Birds on a Wire

It was a powwow of sorts they were having, about the changing world,
— those birds perched on a wire.
A few flights later, they returned to earth
when the thread of their conversation 
disappeared.
Yesterday, a few city folks arrived at 
the village,
their car kicking up dust, seeking to ‘connect’ with their roots!
Raising eyebrows at the car’s speed,
the lone tree and the smiling flowers 
watched them go.
Where are they headed, asked the flowers 
of the tree.
Came the reply — they are out to win, 
to outrun!
To forge ahead, pushing the others behind
— with such single-minded focus, each 
passenger sits.
What a storm hovers over mankind!
People are scampering about like dry leaves…

(Surjit Patar’s Chhidiyan si kuch baithian Translated by Karthik Venkatesh and Amarinder Kaur).

Brats done, let us now have biscuits — and, of course, brewed coffee. 

kaffeeklatsch@tribuneindia.com