The quirky politics of Rahul Gandhi, most recently symbolised by his absence from the Budget session of Parliament, reveals a mindset remarkably similar to that of Muhammad bin Tughlaq.

The quirky politics of Rahul Gandhi, most recently symbolised by his absence from the Budget session of Parliament, reveals a mindset remarkably similar to that of Muhammad bin Tughlaq. Like the monarch, Rahul’s approach to politics and power adheres to what is prescribed in textbooks, seemingly commonsensical, yet out of sync with the extant reality.

Tughlaq chose to shift his capital from Delhi to Daulatabad because it was the physical centre of his expanding empire and, therefore, equidistant from all its parts. He thought his presence in Daulatabad would dissuade chieftains of remote areas from rebelling as he could rush out to counter their challenge to his authority quicker than he did from Delhi.

He, however, forgot that the shift to Daulatabad also implied he would have to travel a greater distance to access territories in the North than he did from Delhi, emboldening quiescent chieftains there to rise in rebellion. Then he ordered the population of Delhi to move to Daulatabad. The migration turned into an odyssey of misery and was eventually deemed a colossal failure.

In the manner of Muhammad bin Tughlaq, Rahul insists on the Congress trundling down the highway which he believes would lead to its revival and sweep it to power in the 2019 General Election. He wants the geriatric leaders, his Mama’s advisors, packed off, and in their place cobble together a team of young faces representing new ideas of politics and possessing the zeal the old lack.

More significantly, Rahul believes the only method of resuscitating the moribund party is to hold organizational elections for electing members to committees overseeing different tiers. The massive democratic exercise and open competition, it is argued, would attract talented people, neither dynasts nor wealthy nor musclemen, to enter the party, reflecting not only the ethos of changing India, but also provide a new veneer to India’s Grand Old Party notorious for the streak of self-aggrandizement among its members. Rahul’s ideas every textbook on politics indeed extol, arguing on their salience in keeping a political party in a fine fettle.

Alas, what seems a grand, and logical, plan on paper might turn out disastrous in reality. As it was with Mohammad bin Tughlaq’s decision to shift his capital from Delhi to Daulatabad, as it might become the fate of Rahul as well.

It is a truism of Indian politics that the talented, and even the committed, tend to gravitate to the ruling dispensation or the party in ascendancy. No party would understand it better than the Congress, which had been the principal magnet for nearly four decades for those wishing to enter politics, both the riffraff and those fired by idealism.

By contrast, it won’t be wrong to say that in large parts of North India the people no longer even perceive the Congress as the vehicle of choice – for their political aspirations as also for executing the idea of what they want India to be. In Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, which together contribute 120 members to the Lok Sabha, the Congress has been reduced to a rump, to which only those gravitate who find no respectable refuge elsewhere.

Indeed, wherever the Congress has slipped to the third or fourth spot in the ranking of political parties, it hasn’t managed to recover ground. Think West Bengal and Tamil Nadu, for instance. Delhi could become a new addition to the list. In Punjab, in the 2017 state elections, the party might find the AAP vying for its social base. In a clutch of states –Gujarat, Chhattisgarh, Madhya Pradesh and Orissa – the Congress enjoys the status of runner-up only because of the bipolar nature of their politics.

In these circumstances, Rahul’s prescription of conducting organizational elections is likely to come a cropper. For sure, it won’t enable the Congress to reclaim its lost base. In fact, it will rally the entrenched interests to deploy their wealth- and muscle-power to protect the little of political turf they still possess. For instance, will the great dynasties in the Congress quietly step aside to open up the party structures?

It is significant that the national spokesperson of the Congress, Sanjay Jha, in a recent piece in the Indian Express, named Jyotiraditya Scindia, Sachin Pilot and Deepender Hooda to preen about the abundance of talent in the Congress. Organizational elections will only lead to the circulation of old elite and their progenies. The Congress can scarcely hope to gain as the principle of hereditary succession is anathema to the culture of meritocracy, regardless of the capabilities of the leaders mentioned here.

Political parties are and can be renewed through a socio-political movement, which not only helps expand their support base but also attracts talent. Over the last 30 years, we have had umpteen examples of this process yielding rich dividends for political outfits. Thus, for instance, the BJP triggered the Ram Janmabhoomi movement to acquire eminence – Narendra Modi is simply a culmination of this process.

Others too have notched successes, albeit on a smaller scale, piggybacking movements. The Mandal politics spawned a clutch of OBC outfits which became regional powers. NT Rama Rao harped on the Telugu pride to pave the way for the Telugu Desam Party delivering an astonishing debut. Kanshi Ram cycled from village to village, building a formidable network of volunteers captivated by the idea of wresting power for the Bahujan samaj.

More recently, the Aam Aadmi Party has captured the popular imagination through a movement aimed at ushering in alternative politics, that is, contesting elections on a meagre budget for providing clean and effective governance. This idea inspired a class of people who had kept away from politics to coalesce around the AAP.

Its rise has indeed been an awakening for the Congress, evident from the praise Rahul lavished on the political fledgling during his infamous interview with the Times Now anchor, Arnab Goswami, last year. Rahul perhaps is impressed by the AAP because it, unlike the BJP and the Janata Parivar variants, spoke in a cross-sectoral voice that was once decidedly the Congress’s.

Therefore, even before Rahul revamps his party and retires its ageing leaders, he must search for an idea to build a movement around, an idea which resonates with the party’s rank and file as well as the people. Nobody can tell him what this idea can be. But it surely can’t be the tired rhetoric of the communalism-secularism debate unless he redefines its parameters. For instance, is Rahul firmly rooted in tradition to counter the BJP’s perpetual attempt to emerge as the spokesperson of the Hindus?

Nor such an idea can be a variant of the garibi hatao slogan unless he infuses astonishingly new content into it. Really, which party in India doesn’t speak of eradicating poverty? Even the corporate-friendly BJP does.

It is impossible to spin credible and popular ideas behind closed doors. To know what idea will sway the populace, Rahul has to mingle among the people, identify with them, or show an instinct for what might appeal them. This is where Rahul’s past creeps in, at times tripping him embarrassingly.

His past has been incredibly traumatic. As a child, he had witnessed his grandmother and father killed, and lived an extremely sequestered existence. He was home-tutored in his final year in school, and then after a year of studying in St Stephen’s College, banished abroad. His social interaction was presumably confined to the children of elite. Rahul was denied the opportunity to fathom the psyche of the people, the poor and disadvantaged whom his party claims to represent.

This is why Rahul, unlike, say, Modi and Kejriwal, seems so bereft of the savvy to judge what the people might find appealing or appalling. The value of political symbolism is lost on him. This is why he unmindfully disappeared before the current Budget session of Parliament, or was caught smiling as he stood next to his mother after the Lok Sabha debacle of last year, or why he chose to miss the dinner hosted to commemorate Manmohan Singh’s ten year of prime ministership.

This is also why Rahul invariably relies on textbook prescriptions to talk of reinvigorating the Congress. For revamping the party, Rahul must first overcome his own psychology of fear that hobbles him. He must emerge from the cocoon of security to mingle among the people, not address them from a rostrum or go to them intermittently, but live among them, so to speak. It is only then he can learn to decode the murmur of their hearts.

These are aspects most popular leaders learn as they grow, but which Rahul couldn’t because of the tragic circumstances of his life. It is only then he might chance upon an idea to build a popular movement around, thereby transfusing fresh blood into the party. Otherwise, like Muhammad bin Tughlaq, Rahul will insist on undertaking experiments which, though sound on paper, will only inflict misery on the Congress and may even see him forfeit whatever is still left of the empire his ancestors built.

(Ajaz Ashraf is a journalist based in Delhi. His novel, The Hour Before Dawn, is available in bookstores around the country. Email: ashrafajaz3@gmail.com)