Sonia Gandhi steps down: the power of renunciation

Commonweal, June 18, 2004 by Jo McGowan

Should an Italian woman be the prime minister of India? That question transfixed this nation last month. It was answered finally by the people themselves, who said yes, emphatically.

The recent elections in India were fought with Sonia Gandhi's leadership as one of the most important issues at stake. (Born in Italy, Sonia is the widow of Rajiv Gandhi, himself once prime minister, who was assassinated while running for reelection in 1991. His mother, Indira Gandhi, and his grandfather, Jawarhlal Nehru, were also both prime ministers of India.) When the Congress Party won, its mandate was clear: a secular state led by Sonia Gandhi--in sharp contrast to the Hindu supremacy of the outgoing Bhartiya Janta Party (BJP).

Throughout the election campaign, Sonia had insisted that her interest was not in becoming the prime minister but in the good of the country. In spite of this, when the Congress Party won (against all expectations--even Sonia was astonished), as leader of the majority, she was invited by President Abdul Kalam to become the prime minister.

For a little over thirty-six hours, the country was kept in suspense as Mrs. Gandhi considered the promptings of her own "inner voice." It was a wonder she could hear anything at all. BJP officials, in an appalling display of poor loserdom, clamored, shouted, and outdid themselves in their efforts to reject the idea of a foreigner ruling the country. What wouldn't they do? They would resign from office, they would boy-cott the swearing-in ceremony, they would wear widows' white, they would shave their heads; they would not, under any circumstances, submit gracefully to Sonia's taking office.

But as ridiculous as their agitation was, it was still not difficult to understand. I am a foreign woman and I have lived in India for nearly twenty-five years. I consider myself a part of this country in many fundamental ways. Like Sonia, my husband is Indian and my children were born and raised here. Like her, I speak Hindi, eat Indian food, and wear Indian clothes. Like her, I am committed to this country and content to spend the rest of my life here. But as a foreign woman, I am still not comfortable with a foreigner as prime minister.

India's independence, gained in 1947 at tremendous cost, is still too young to be taken for granted. Foreign rule, with all of its humiliation and indignity, is still a living memory. Yet when the people were asked to choose, Sonia Gandhi was their unambiguous choice. In district after district, the Congress Party, with Sonia Gandhi its clearly recognized leader, was elected by sweeping majorities. Did she now have the right to refuse?

Her "inner voice" told her that she did. In a politically brilliant speech to the Indian Parliament, Sonia Gandhi withdrew from the prime minister's race, saying once again that her primary concern was not personal power but the good of the nation.

The BJP performance regarding her taking over the government had been foulmouthed and vile. Although it was expected, even people who did not want to see a foreigner in the PM's seat were disgusted by it. But it revealed a depth of anger and hostility which could not be ignored. Sonia must have realized that by taking over she would provide the opposition with an issue it would not let go of, distracting the government from the agenda to which it was committed, and creating more chaos and discord in the country.

The emotion she felt before Parliament appeared to be genuine and heart-felt, and even seasoned political observers (read cynical) were moved by her act of renunciation. But it was also a political masterstroke. In true Gandhian tradition, she turned her own disadvantage into her greatest strength, confusing and silencing her enemies in the process. Overnight, the BJP seems to have disappeared from the news. They have no issue left.

The BJP fought its election campaign on the slogan "India Shining." Pointing to increased economic growth, particularly in the high-tech sectors, it ran a high-tech campaign to match: its rallies were held for huge audiences with party officials arriving by helicopter, speaking for fifteen minutes, then taking off for the next appearance. The Congress Party, on the other hand, relied on an old-fashioned personal campaign style. Sonia herself went into the villages, sat in people's homes, held babies, and talked to the women. When her children got into the act, the "royal family" image that the Nehru clan enjoys was even more striking: the poor revere the family and all its members. Other Congress Party leaders were forced to follow suit, and the effect was surprisingly successful.

But more than Sonia Gandhi's common touch, it was the question she kept asking that got people's attention: "For whom is India shining?" Over and over again, she reminded her audiences of the farmers who had committed suicide because they couldn't get a decent price for their crops, of the huge numbers of educated unemployed youth, and of the vast amounts of money going to high-tech industries which are automated and provide no jobs for untrained people.