The theatrical fracas over the governor of West Bengal’s decision to voluntarily shut off lights at Raj Bhavan exemplifies some deep infirmities in our politics. To tackle a minor issue first. We can all have fun unpacking the symbolic meaning of shutting off lights at Raj Bhavan. It probably exemplified the darkness of the state more than it expressed solidarity with the people. But whatever his motives in doing so, the governor clearly failed to take on board two lessons that those engaged in a politics of symbolic gesture ought to be aware of. First, public functionaries and private citizens have different degrees of freedom in what they can do. Whatever his personal views, a governor cannot be seen to be criticising his government, unless there is some serious constitutional issue at stake. And whichever way the governor interprets his gesture, there is no doubt that it was a riposte to his own government, one that as governor he is not entitled to make. Mohandas Gandhi himself was very clear that the politics of so-called gandhigiri cannot apply to public office; which is why he chose never to hold one.

Second, Gandhiji also knew that the authority of symbolic gestures depends not upon one-time interventions, but moral authority carefully and dedicatedly crafted over the course of a long time. The force of symbolic gestures can easily be undermined by the suspicion that they are merely a form of grandstanding. The only way to counter that suspicion is to have a consistent record of sacrifice. Or to pick an issue of such moral importance that no one could disagree. The governor’s choice of issue and the manner of articulating it failed on these counts. The CPM’s response has been characteristically supercilious and over the top. But the governor did invite it. Ironically, he shares with his CPM opponents an odd sensibility about politics: one in which symbols matter more than the substance.

... contd.