Letter of dissent or of discreet assent?
Political and strategic analysts were absorbed by inexplicable curiosity when MLC Kalvakuntla Kavitha dispatched a handwritten letter to her father and BRS chief, K Chandrasekhar Rao, the architect of the 13-year separate Telangana movement, its victorious culmination, and triumphantly becoming the state’s first Chief Minister.
The content of the missive and its mysterious leak to social media was perceived as calculated planning and influenced by pressure groups. The whole drama subtly equates to political delinquency, intellectual immaturity, and lack of professional apprenticeship, as also an unseasoned bid for political space. The ‘explicit and implicit messages’ in the letter are simply enthralling.
Kavitha’s exquisite appeal to her ‘Dear Daddy’ seeking direction, clarity, and about her future in BRS, principally in the ‘light of hope against hope’ of returning to power is ambiguous.
Beneath the emotional and persistent question, ‘who should occupy the throne, if and when power returns?’ is heedlessly quizzical. While couched in sentiment, it hinted at deeper currents of ambition, uncertainty, and strategic recalibration-a change in the mindset.
Whether ‘the letter to daddy’ was an ‘act of dissent or one of discreet assent’ remains a million-dollar question.
In Indian political history, Indira Gandhi, known for her iron grip over governance, mastered the choreography of party dynamics. For her ‘dissent was not always an enemy’ but a precisely and carefully honed tool wielded with ‘discreet assent.’ She engineered historic splits in the Congress Party, not out of helplessness but as a calculated strike to neutralise internal resistance and reassert her indomitable dominance.
Her way of turning discord into strategic advantage and emerging not weakened but stronger with every confrontation, remains unparalleled. Perhaps KCR employs a similar strategy.
Indira Gandhi’s shrewd orchestration of party dynamics was executed through loyalists, who owed their rise to her patronage. That was the era of ‘makeshift, tailor-made dissidents’ carefully crafted figures deployed with ‘just enough freedom to roam freely in a vehicle’ yet with the brakes and steering firmly in Madam’s grip. No matter how far they ventured, geographically or politically, they consistently ended up parking in her garage--‘A dissent by design: Either an assembled dissent or descent on a leash.’ She nurtured parallel voices to maintain leverage within the party.
Kavitha’s assertion that, ‘KCR is my leader and will not accept other leadership’ was a significant parallel.
‘Anguished over the developments in BRS, I had written the letter for its betterment,’ Kavitha maintained.
The letter, couched in strong tones of introspection, accountability, and future direction, has sent ripples through the BRS--reading like a rebellious call and critique of leadership style and strategic missteps. Scratch beneath, and it evokes something more complex and familiar--a manoeuvre reminiscent of the Indira era’s engineered dissent with discreet assent, echoed, perhaps, in today’s political choreography. Rightly or not, the letter could well be a calibrated tool to project an ‘illusion of democratic introspection’ within a tightly controlled party structure. Or maybe not!
Out of power is not at all devoid of control on BRS to a spirited KCR. His political acumen, seldom understood even by his self-styled closest associates, often thrives on silence and surprise. Like Indira, KCR has structural and embedded networks, loyalties, and timing. Controlled dissidence is a way to make BRS seem alive with ideas and disagreements, while still being driven from the same garage.
Whether Kavitha ‘manages to sit firmly in the driving seat’ or ‘leaves the steering and brakes to her daddy’ with static boundaries, is anyone’s guess as of now. However, the letter may possibly allow BRS to dilute public frustration.
Indian women into the halls of politics, and luck and competence favoured, into governance have, often, strategically navigated journeys. Contemporary political history is dotted with stories of women wielding power, as parliamentarians, and as Chief Ministers, either directly, or through manipulation, proxy, and emotional capital, or otherwise. Factors like family legacy, godfathers, caste arithmetic, money power, charisma, emotional appeals, sheer defiance, developing on their own were reasons behind their entry and political ascent.
During the freedom struggle most women entered via ideology, not for power, irrespective of shadows of male leaders or alongside husbands or quite often on their own. Direct manipulative tactics for power were rare. The Nehruvian era and its immediate aftermath saw the symbolic, yet significant inclusion of women in politics.
The first woman Chief Minister, a freedom fighter, Sucheta Kripalani, stands as the best example as a torchbearer for future women CMs.
Freedom fighter, diplomat, and politician Vijay Lakshmi Pandit was the first woman to have been appointed as president of the UN General Assembly. Hyderabad’s very own Sarojini Naidu was the first woman AICC president and the first woman governor after Independence.
The real shift began with the emergence of Indira Gandhi, apparently a ‘compromise Prime Minister’ initially. But ‘astonishingly Indira Gandhi showcased the power and instance of a woman’ in the ‘male chauvinistic political ecosystem’ to become a democratic dictator and authoritarian leader. Eventually, women domination in Indian politics, especially during the 1980s and later, from other parts of the country, backed by family dynasties, evolved.
In several states, women occupied pivotal political positions as CMs, governors, speakers, diplomats, among other such privileged positions. Some of them rebelled against the parent party leadership and got their due share. Failures are equally significant numbers. But then that is politicking. Some despite not being in top position officially either as Prime Minister or Chief Minister, wielded extensive power. Sonia Gandhi, who was the ‘de-facto centre of power’, was never its constitutional face. Priyanka Gandhi is emerging on similar lines. Either the ‘attempt in vain’ of YSR Sharmila, or the attempt of BRS Kavitha, may be seen as battles of equal perception and relevance.
The saga of women in politics-the ‘dance of democracy’ continues with a blend of tradition and rebellion, of backroom calculations and front-stage charisma. ‘Manipulations’ may vary, but the ‘mission to claim power’ remains undiminished with ‘meteoric ascents and humiliating downfalls.’
Kavitha’s political entry had a powerful legacy, being daughter of a towering personality, unchallenged leader of the statehood movement and its first Chief Minister. She enjoyed early visibility through cultural diplomacy (like Telangana Jagruthi) and a brief MP stint.
Now her letter to daddy has made people believe unequivocally that she ‘rebelled and rebelled earnestly.’ Her maiden attempt to prove this was the formation of the ‘Singareni unit of Telangana Jagruti’ and appointing ’11 area coordinators’, obviously hinting at: ‘Well, I Shall not relent and want clarity on my future come what may.’ Kavitha further claimed that there was a proposal to merge BRS with the BJP.
It all depends now on Kavitha and her committed team that is managing followers, rallies, and campaign infrastructure.
‘Family name brings loyalty’ but money greases the machinery. Moreover, political expenses are high and rarely are to be made transparent. Kavitha may reclaim space in shifting political sands provided she depends not on name or money but on timing, emotional connect, and clarity of purpose. Better if Kavitha demonstrates these.
In politics, lineage can grant entry but not necessarily acceptance. In Telangana, a political realignment is not unthinkable with murmurs of leadership changes in the BRS, INC and BJP--either in one, two or perhaps all.
Fathers and godfathers, who propel their kin and protégés into the ‘unpredicted stormy ocean of politics’-caution is indispensable please!
Political nurturing must go beyond entitlement. It must equip them with skills of listening, learning, and leadership-not a jolly ride on borrowed credibility.
The ‘surname may open the doors, but only substance will keep them in the race.’ Hence, it is true that ‘politics shall be treated as an honourable task and not a light-hearted game’ as often professed by K Chandrasekhar Rao.