Chatterjee Versus The Commissar

Mail Today Book Review, August 1, 2010

THE alternate title for Somnath Chatterjee’s memoirs ought to be 'Blame It All On Prakash Karat'. It is very difficult for a ‘defector’ to live down the ignominy of being called so. The former Lok Sabha Speaker’s lot isn’t any different. Despite being an elected member of the CPI(M), Chatterjee refused to accept the party’s diktat to resign from the Speaker’s office and vote against the UPA government in July 2008. His party expelled him for indiscipline.
Chatterjee’s book is an effort to claim he did not defect to the government’s side to facilitate the trust vote. What he offers as defence of his deed is a vituperative attack on Prakash Karat, general secretary of the CPI(M), under whose leadership the party chose to withdraw support and vote against the central government over the Indo-US civilian nuclear deal.
His hatred for Karat seems to have blinded Chatterjee to the fact that it was not the general secretary but the party’s highest decision-making body, the central committee, which expelled him. The same committee had also voted against Jyoti Basu becoming prime minister in 1996. Harkishan Singh Surjeet was then the party chief and the veteran EMS Namputhiripad was still alive.
Yet, Chatterjee blames the “historic blunder” on Karat, who was just another member of the party’s politburo. Though Chatterjee admits in the book that he was not even a member of the central committee then, he contends that “Jyoti Basu and I were not averse to the idea.” Since Basu is dead, this and his other claims — such as Basu asking him to continue in office against the party’s decision — will remain unverified.
An interesting contradiction in the book is about his nonpartisan approach to party politics and his conduct in the House. Chatterjee says he remained as Speaker opposing the CPI(M)’s decision because he was above party politics. Yet he makes a special mention of the note he wrote to the CPI(M) trying to influence its leadership and stop it from withdrawing its support to the Congress-led government.
Chatterjee has a lot to explain because he presided over one of the worst episodes in India’s parliamentary democracy. Almost everyone involved — either as player or as observer to the sordid drama that unfolded on July 22, 2008 — felt that some people in the government or their friends outside had ‘bought’ MPs to win the trust vote. The Leader of the Opposition had indeed raised allegations of corruption and three BJP MPs had brought in wads of notes to prove their allegation of a bribe being offered to them to abstain from voting. Outside the House, television channels were preparing to air a sting operation that purportedly proved the ‘cash-forvotes’ allegations.
All but Chatterjee was perturbed. Despite such grave accusations and tell-tale signs of corrupt practices, he let the government win the trust vote, instead of first taking up the issue of horse trading. The setting up of a committee to inquire into the allegations was an after-thought to assuage the guilty conscience of many.
It is interesting to note that P. Sundaraiah doesn’t figure in the book’s index at all. If by calling the book Keeping The Faith Chatterjee wishes to underline his faith in Communism or the CPI(M), the omission is grave. P Sundaraiah was the leader of the Telengana armed struggle and the founding general secretary of the CPI(M). He was in saddle when Chatterjee was selected as a CPI(M) candidate to contest elections.
Chatterjee in the early chapters vividly recollects his lack of politics or ideological conviction as a youth. He owes his career as a lawyer and a parliamentarian to his father, Hindu Mahasabha stalwart N.C. Chatterjee. The senior Chatterjee was supported by the CPI(M) in a couple of elections as an Independent and his son only inherited this seat later on.
Chatterjee’s faith, or lack of it, is evident from a decision that he fails to explain. He was a member of the parliamentary committee that helped the NDA government install the portrait of V.D. Savarkar, an accused in the Gandhi murder case, in the Central Hall of Parliament.
Still, the book is worth a buy as it deals comprehensively with a controversial chapter in Indian politics and gives a ringside view of the turn of events. It also has interesting anecdotes about veteran parliamentarians such as A.K. Gopalan and Jyotirmoy Bosu and will surely add to the understanding of our parliamentary democracy, however skewed it may be.
rajesh.ramachandran@mailtoday.in