Lessons from history for republic of rajas

By the end of the 19th century, stories such as Krishna Kumari’s, which was reproduced in plays, songs, and poems in every Indian language, had transformed how Indians thought about their monarchs. What had once been a source of pride now began to appear a cause of tragedy. Indians started to look for what these factious principalities had not been able to offer, which was a unified polity. Thus it was that so many of our leading men wrote reverentially about Giuseppe Mazzini, the republican hero who had led the charge against Italy’s decaying monarchies.

The other consequence of dynasticism was incompetence. Since rulers gained their office by virtue of birth rather than ability, they often had little aptitude for government. They devoted themselves to high living, leaving administration in the hands of darbaris skilled in flattery and intrigue. For much of the 19th century, reformers urged rulers to end the misery by enacting constitutions that would bind the hands of their progeny. A few principalities, such as Mysore and Travancore, Kolhapur, Bhavnagar, and Gondal, met the challenge of the times, but far more common was the example afforded by Baroda, whose educated maharaja refused to enact a constitution even as his heirs earned notoriety for drinking, gambling, and debauchery at Oxford and Harvard.

Little wonder, then, that by the early 20th century, the intelligentsia started giving up on the rajas. While patriots like Bal Gangadhar Tilak and Aurobindo Ghose braved prison in Mandalay and exile in Pondicherry respectively, the rajkumar of Baroda was making the news for resolving a fistfight between three American motor car salesmen, who had been trying to convince him that their product was the finest, by purchasing all three vehicles. The contrast between the suffering of the self-made and the antics of the well-born was becoming too stark to bear. Few made the point more bluntly than Lala Lajpat Rai, whose Political Future of India warned maharajas that “the age of despotism is gone” and that they “must sooner or later hand over power to the people”.

Today, 75 years hence, what should we make of this prophecy? The princely states have indeed been extinguished, but the dynasticism they embodied is thriving. In every sphere of life, from business houses to Bollywood, from the civil service to the judiciary, we witness furious efforts to create and maintain dynasties. Most striking of all are the political parties huddled under the INDIA umbrella, which describe themselves as torchbearers of the republic, but are filled to the brim with dynasts that rule their parties autocratically.

Why Indian politics has become increasingly dynastic — and why voters condone this trend — is still being debated by observers. But the implication for our republic is dire. At the heart of republicanism is the demand for equality. This equality has four aspects: politically, no one should be above the law; morally, we should cherish the common good; economically, everyone must have the means to live with dignity; and socially, we must treat all individuals fairly. Dynasticism challenges republicanism because, as resources and opportunities come to be concentrated in families, the members of these families are able to obtain privileges and advantages that their fellow citizens cannot. The grim reality is that a dynast can break a law, champion a sectional interest, and dole out callous treatment because of who they are. The anthem of the dynast is jante ho main kaun hoon?

It is sometimes claimed that political dynasties should be excused because they permit the “inclusion” of “underrepresented” groups such as women (when, for instance, female relatives are drafted to compete in elections). This argument takes neither women nor equality seriously. Would we, for example, say that a monopoly is acceptable because it is owned by a woman and, therefore, increases the number of women CEOs? What about the female producers prevented from competing fairly in the marketplace or female consumers that have to pay higher prices — does their “inclusion” not matter?

Reversing the growing dynasticism of Indian politics will not be easy. It is a positive development that the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), which intellectuals denounce as a threat to the republic, has condemned parivarvaad. Its distinctive feature is that it is not controlled by a single family or clan. It also helps that the self-renunciatory ideals of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) have tempered the role of families in the party. But the BJP cannot be immune to wider trends. If citizens are willing to turn a blind eye to dynasties, and thus allow families to accumulate extraordinary resources and create “strongholds”, then the compulsions of electoral politics will force the BJP to also cultivate dynasts. In the long run, then, what matters is that citizens understand why our forefathers created a republic. The lesson of our history is that where there are political dynasties, the evils of disunity and incompetence are never far behind. It is only when citizens comprehend the toll that dynasticism imposed in the past — as the story of Krishna Kumari taught our forefathers — that our republic will begin to have republicans.

Rahul Sagar is Laurance S Rockefeller Visiting Professor at Princeton University. His most recent book is Krishna Kumari: The Tragedy of India. The views expressed are personal