Sunday, December 06, 2015

The John Lewis Christmas Ad has, in recent years, become a bit of a tradition. Every year, vast amounts of money are spent on creating a super-slick production that seeks to capture the true spirit of the Christmas season. A couple of weeks ago we were delivered the latest instalment; another visual treat that was (literally) out of this world.



I will admit to being taken in by some of their early ads, but it is now getting harder to see through the expensive gloss and figure out exactly what any of it has to do with Christmas. It could just as easily be any holiday, anywhere. 


Perhaps, in a politically correct world, that is the point. Every year, these well-intentioned and meticulously crafted films predictably deliver a little rush of feel-good, a song that will jump up the charts via the sudden exposure, and a physical product that goes on to be a bestseller. Which I guess is job done as far as the people in suits down in Marketing are concerned. Just as predictably, there is no reference whatsoever to the real mystery, meaning and miracle that is Christmas. 

Which it is why it is pretty cool that this year, this happened. 

 


Have a blessed Advent season.

The unfolding tragedy that is the Congress Party

So the other night I was sitting up late, various random thoughts competing as usual for my attention such as which part of Chotta Rajan was actually chotta and how the great state of Bihar was slowly but surely ensuring every member of Laloo Prasad Yadav's family spent some time as either Chief or Dep. Chief Minister (3 down, 8 to go) 

As is often the case with this sort of late-night rumination, I felt emotions ranging from solid indifference to existential despair and everything in between. In the end, however, I mostly cast aside anything too strong in favour of a cold shower and warm bed. 

Not tonight, though. 

Tonight I appear to be reflecting and I realised that over the past year, I have been pissed off at a lot of things. The list includes the steady overcrowding on the morning commute, people who play their music too loud through their headphones, Donald Trump, every single Indian news anchor, and Justin Beiber. 

But, and this one took me somewhat by surprise, the one thing that has consistently infuriated me over the past twelve months is India’s Congress Party. 

Let’s set last year's election results to one side. Let’s even put it down to anti-incumbency and the electorate's appetite for a change. I’m no expert, but I know that’s normal in politics. The Congress was pretty much wiped out, but let’s not dwell on that fact either. They were up against a PR machine; a fiery and charismatic leader with an abnormally large chest measurement, and it turned out to be a no-contest. 

We could mull over the reasons for such a colossal defeat, but again I don’t think we would come up with anything that hasn’t been mentioned before. There was the hubris, the astounding lack of remorse for a spectacularly corrupt second term, an arrogance in the face of a resurgent Opposition, and a nauseating sense of entitlement - of having some sort of divine right to govern. The outcome was really no surprise. 

We can look closer at the campaign itself - and all the ironies along the way. We had a spokesperson of this so-called pro-poor party actually the use the word ‘chaiwala’ or 'tea-boy' as a derogatory term (a stunning demonstration of how to effectively alienate your base), an incumbent Prime Minister of supposedly impeccable honesty and integrity presiding over epic financial impropriety, a Grand Old Party that extolled the virtues of social democracy but was run by one woman as a personal fiefdom, and to top it all off we had some of their esteemed leaders label their main challenger ‘power-hungry’ and ‘dictatorial’. The pot called the kettle black so many times it was charged with inciting racial hatred. 

And what of their candidate itself? Ah, yes, Rahul Gandhi. Affectionately known as RaGa to some, and Pappu to others. Although never officially the candidate, he was also never officially NOT the candidate, which, given his lineage and last name, sort of made him the candidate. There was the car-crash televised interview (preserved on YouTube for posterity), the Jupiter-escape-velocity science lesson, and an assortment of other gems along the way. It was as if the Congress Party thought we were all idiots. 

The thing is, most people don’t think he should be leader of any organisation comprised entirely of adults. I suspect a large number of his party members feel the same. He himself doesn’t seem like the fizziest drink in the fridge, but I get the feeling even he feels this way. So who does believe he can be party leader and future Prime Minister? His mother? Is this really what one of the world’s oldest democratically run political parties has come to? Highly educated, intelligent men and women genuflecting before one woman who happened to be waitressing at the right restaurant at the right time? It’s bordering on the occult, and it’s gone on far too long. 

Even last week, after the latest round of Twitter trolling following an appearance at a college in Bangalore, Mr Gandhi is trying to put on a brave face. He is either cluelessly in denial, or unstable. Worryingly, he could well be both. Amidst all of the comedy that passed for his speech, however, there was a hint of an insight: "In 10 years, there was some fatigue with the Congress. There were some things we did wrong...and we lost the elections. We need to give a new face and image to the Congress." 

New face? New image? Last time I checked, it was the same face and the same image. Face + palm= facepalm. Rahul Gandhi is past the point where he has become a caricature of himself. He seems like a nice enough guy, but by persisting with him, the Congress is proving it is so far removed from reality, they might as well be trying to win elections on Mars in 2020. 

This is a new India. While there is affection and a benign sort of nostalgia for the role that the Congress Party played in India’s journey, there is also a fierce sense that we can and should do better than a political dynasty. Sonia Gandhi seemed to realise that fact when she placed Manmohan Singh at the helm in 2004, but that same nous appears to have deserted her now. 

And what of the party's behaviour since the debacle of 2014? If anyone thought it would be a chastening experience, an opportunity perhaps to be contrite, introspect and attempt to return with humility and renewed vigour, well, you were wrong. They have collectively, and almost without exception, acted like a petulant child whose rattle has been wrested from them. 

A quick roundup: 
Brazenly holding up parliamentary proceedings (quite a feat when you consider there might be more security guards than Congress MPs in the Lok Sabha at the moment), resorting to constant personal attacks rather than meaningful debate, flip-flopping on key legislation, and finding time in between to get obliterated in Delhi assembly elections as well. The fact that they were exulting at their part in the Bihar results where one of the most corrupt politicians of recent times returned to the corridors of power demonstrates how low this once-great party has fallen. To be shameless is one thing, but to seem unaware of shame as a metaphysical concept is something else entirely. 

The real tragedy of course is that it is not just the party’s fortunes that have taken a nose-dive. They may yet recover and at some point in our lifetimes, find a way back to relevance. But what of the present? In the meantime, they have essentially gifted absolute power to a man whose greatest fantasy is absolute power. They have emboldened lunatic cow-huggers and other riffraff operating at the outer fringes of sanity; people who have no business being anywhere near any democratic machinery because their mere presence will short-circuit it. At a time of increasing international instability, if India could not have a sensible party of government, the very least we needed is a mature Opposition. The Great Indian Congress Party has proved it cannot be either. 

And so, we plod on. Swachh Bharat, it now appears, was merely a clever PR buzzword for some old-school ethnic cleansing, a refinement of earlier experiments but this time on a national scale. Make in India only works for you if you were originally Made in India. It is a sorry and increasingly scary state of affairs. 

There was once a dream that was India. Today, the reality seems like a bad dream. Of course, India will survive. To suggest otherwise is to ascribe too much power to one man. He may alter the narrative slightly but will not fundamentally change it. No one person can. Nevertheless, it is infuriating that we find ourselves in this situation. And the fact that the Congress party, with all the tools at its disposal, pretty much allowed it to happen; well, that makes it just that much worse. 

Party's over, folks. Nothing more to see here.