There is something stark about Karnataka’s post-independence trajectory. While the state’s economic pre-eminence has been continuous during this period, its record in the polity has suffered reversals of late. Call it the ‘Karnataka Paradox’ — the symbiosis of economic modernity and political depravity seems to be the emerging Karnataka model, which, if left unchecked, will be a blot on its image as a progressive state, and even threaten its economic success.
Despite facing regional imbalance that came with reorganisation in 1956, Karnataka has always been an economic jewel on Independent India’s crown. Its per capita income has been consistently higher than the national average, and the unemployment rate lower. The characteristic ability of the state, especially its urban centres, to connect to the economic imperatives of the time is indeed impressive. So, when the public sector constituted the commanding heights of the Indian economy under the Nehruvian socialist era, Karnataka attracted national attention for having been home to some of the finest public sector undertakings, institutions of higher learning, and innovation. And when the national economy changed its course to embrace economic liberalisation, Karnataka, especially its capital city of Bengaluru, seamlessly emerged as India’s own Silicon Valley, possibly building on the fundamentals accumulated under the state-led economic development.
The track, however, is quite different when it comes to its politics and society. Here it is the story of ‘fall from grace’. In the first four decades after Independence, Karnataka, despite many teething problems, was known for the quality of its political leadership and administration. It had leaders of stature such as S Nijalingappa and Devaraj Urs. Urs considerably changed the land-holding patterns through a reasonably successful land reform programme. Both political and economic power flowed from dominant Lingayats and Vokkaligas to the OBCs and SCs/STs. As long-time Karnataka observer, Prof James Manor of the University of London has put it: ‘Urs forged disadvantaged groups into such a powerful force that no party which came to power after him, including the BJP, dared to depart from substantial power sharing between them and the two dominant castes.’
In the 1980s, Ramakrishna Hegde of the Janata Party (later Janata Dal), was also a leader of national stature. The Hegde government, under its legendary rural development minister Abdul Nazeer Sab, experimented with democratic decentralisation, which later became a model for the historical 73rd Amendment to the Constitution, paving the way for a nationwide deepening of democracy. H D Deve Gowda seems to be the last representative of this brand of state political leaders whose reputation as mass leaders and good administrators was known beyond the borders of Karnataka. The political leadership during this era also had an economic vision far ahead of their time. Many would not know that Urs established Bangalore’s Electronics City, a hub of electronics industries. Karnataka politics remained a contestation between two centrist political formations — Congress and Janata Dal — till the 1994 Assembly elections. Since then, right-wing politics emerged, with the BJP continuously improving its electoral performance. Despite increased political competition, the political leadership that has emerged since the 1990s has not matched that of the past. Election results since 2004 have shown that the people of Karnataka are frustrated with all three political parties. The signal from the voters is clear, but the state seems to have no political entrepreneurship to capitalise on it.
On both occasions when it formed the government, the BJP, having failed to win a clear majority, resorted to the infamous practice of Operation Kamala of virtually purchasing opposition legislators by tricking the anti-defection law. Invented and perfected in Karnataka, Operation Kamala is now a nationwide practice. The incidents of moral policing, the economic boycott of minorities, hate speech, and communally motivated serial murders are some other factors that have vitiated electoral politics. Possibly, Karnataka is also the first state which saw public-works contractors, known as allies of the political class everywhere, writing to the PM about intolerable levels of corruption.
In the underbelly of Karnataka’s economic modernity, there has occurred some highly toxic socio-political churning, which now threatens to strike at the roots of the rule of law and social cohesion, two essential ingredients required to sustain the state’s economic success. To secure its future, therefore, Karnataka needs to re-invent its politics, ideally rooted and nourished on its own soil.
(The author is a political commentator.)