Subcontinental Drift: Goodnight, Political Prince

Subcontinental Drift doesn't do obituaries, but Madhavrao Scindia's death in a plane crash last Sunday is a special case. His passing marks an important moment in Indian politics: the end of hope for the Congress Party. For more than a decade, Scindia has been a contender for the party's top post. He never announced himself as a candidate, but it was the conventional wisdom that, had he got the job, it would redeem the Congress in the eyes of voters who had turned away from the party in disgust after two decades of venal and inept rule by the Gandhi family. Many political commentators have wondered how a Congress led by Scindia might differ from the farce presided over by Sonia Gandhi. Now we will never know.

Scindia certainly had the training for the job: in a 30-year political career, he held several ministry positions and all manner of top party jobs. He was telegenic, personable, articulate and had a reputation - all too rare in Indian politics - of being incorruptible. There are one or two other Congress leaders with comparable credentials (former Finance Minister Manmohan Singh comes to mind) but they lack Scindia's mass following. I don't believe he lost an election in his life. That he was the scion of the royal family of Gwalior, in central India, somehow added to his popularity.

Yet, on the two occasions I met him, Scindia came across as a reluctant politician, deeply uncomfortable with the sycophancy of those around him. When a hanger-on gasped admiringly -- and audibly -- at even his most banal utterings ("We would like to introduce a new paradigm in government"), Scindia ordered him out of the room. This struck me as odd: as a prince, he was surrounded by yes-men probably from the moment he stepped out of his crib.

But if he disliked politics, he clearly relished being in government. I have never seen a politician having more fun at the mundane business of running a government department as Scindia did when he was minister of railways. He seemed to bounce from one appointment to another, and his eyes shone when he read out the annual railway budget - the most tedious chore in Indian government -- in Parliament.

He was by no means a perfect politician, if there is such a thing. Lacking in cunning and the killer instinct, he was never able to vanquish rivals within the party. And like them, he somewhat cravenly worshiped at the altar of Sonia when he, more than other Congress stalwarts, had the stature to expose her as a false deity and rescue the party from the Cult of Gandhi. I suspect this was because he hated taking risks, a fatal flaw in an aspiring leader.

Still, there was no doubt that he was, for the most part, honest and sincere, and wanted to do good. That is an epitaph very few Indian politicians deserve.