Private Prince

Perhaps there is a ring of truth here. But the timing of the fourth — fifth, if you go back to great-great-grandfather Motilal — generation Nehru-Gandhi’s political debut is perfectly synchronised. To the last detail of being fashionably late. Just when it seemed the NDA was running away with the first decade of the 21st century, the Congress sprung the designated heir.

Party managers are already effusive about Rahul’s contribution to the Congress’ election campaign. And despite the tedious rant of dynastic politics, the Congress is unabashedly projecting the new Gandhi as Rajiv Reborn — the young idealist.

Waving an imaginary wand, the ubiquitous Jairam Ramesh, member of the party’s strategy committee, gushes, ‘‘Rahul is a spitting image of his father Rajiv. He is data-hungry, techno-friendly and pro-reform. It is not surprising he decided to take the plunge. Politics is in his DNA … Rajiv too joined the Congress around Rahul’s age and became prime minister at 39.’’

Ambika Soni, senior Congress leader and close to Sonia Gandhi, is equally clear. ‘‘Apart from Rahul,’’ she says, ‘‘there is a whole generation of new leaders. And with almost 70 per cent of the population being young, they will fire the imagination of the nation’s youth.’’

IT was only a matter of time before Rahul entered the power circle, for just like ‘‘Daddy’’ Rajiv — who took to politics to assist his mother Indira — Rahul too began by helping ‘‘Mummy’’ Sonia with her extensive political work five years ago. He was at Sonia’s side through her campaign in the 1999 general election.

The Congress brandosaurs has lost no time in creating a persona for the lesser known of the Gandhi siblings. His lacklustre academic record suddenly shimmers with a long list of prestigious colleges and universities he has visited — St Stephen’s, Delhi; Trinity College, Cambridge; Harvard University — collecting a sundry list of degrees, in subjects ranging from development economics to financial management.

The Congress has so far shied away from putting out a definitive CV of its newest Lok Sabha candidate, thus leading to speculation about the genuine degrees.

Rahul’s job experience is marked by a couple of consulting jobs in London in the mid-1990s. Though he lived in the City, he had an unmarked address and telephone number and led a discreet life. The threat to his security was at its peak.

Even years later, post-9/11, Rahul was detained and questioned by officials at an American airport because he was travelling on a ticket issued in a name that didn’t match his passport. This was standard security protocol but it took the intervention of the Indian ambassador for Rahul to continue his journey.

Rahul certainly didn’t have a demanding career. It helped that one of the firms he worked for in London had links with the Dutch in-laws of a family confidant. He could afford to keep a keen watch on his mother’s political career and the Congress’ fortunes, visiting India four or five times a year.

It became apparent that he was planning to move back when, two years ago, he announced the idea of putting together an outsourcing firm with a close friend, of American-Swedish lineage. The friend subsequently moved to Mumbai to set up a branch office.

If Rahul was trying to shake off the ghosts of his family’s past by spending most of the 1990s abroad, his adolescent escape paled once he decided on public life. Even as early as 2000, within a year of his mother Sonia winning in Amethi — a family borough she has now passed on to him — Rahul swung into political and development work in the constituency.

In fact, comparisons between father and son begin and end here — for the modern, reformist image of both is turned on its head when it comes to their approach. While Rajiv found technology irresistible and believed in grand infrastructural projects — roads, computer technology, telecom. Rahul stresses micro-level management. ‘‘He believes,’’ Ramesh says, ‘‘in a bottom-up approach.’’

According to Sonia’s Amethi development team, Rahul has focused on micro-credit banking, education, health and hygiene, vocational training for the rural poor.

‘‘He is the Robin Hood of Redistribution,’’ beams one admirer, citing his use of NGOs — including the Rajiv Gandhi Foundation and Rajiv Charitable Trust — for development schemes. Says Wing Commander (retd) Manoj Muttu, head of the Amethi team, ‘‘Our schemes are designed to empower people, socially and economically.’’

Rahul’s first words as new Congress leader would arouse the last of the socialists, for when he began to see the first ripples of success in Amethi, he is said to have exclaimed, ‘‘We can create a revolution!’’ His first contribution to the Congress was a lavish presentation on how to use the NGO sector for political mobilisation.

But this new pageant of goody two-shoes Rahul does not convince his political opponents, principally the BJP and the Sangh Parivar. Though he is not accused of being a foreigner, the sanctimonious Sangh has often commented on his uninhibited ‘‘western’’ lifestyle. In January, the VHP could not resist attacking him for spending his New Year’s holiday with his Colombian girlfriend, Juanita, in Kerala.

YET Rahul himself is wrapped up in the buttoned-up morality of his upbringing. There are no excesses, none of the decadence or indulgence of the spoilt generation.

A contemporary from St Stephen’s recalls him as an understated sort of guy, ‘‘He was there at the parties, the farmhouse bashes. But he made sure he left before it got too loud or others got too drunk.’’ He got into Delhi’s premier college on the sports quota, but a former mate insists, ‘‘It was completely legit. He was a genuine good shot, at least national level.’’

Family friends remember Rahul as the perfect child to caring parents. It was a happy time, filled with great holidays, snorkelling in Lakshwadeep or beachcombing in Goa. Naturally, Rahul loves the great outdoors and packs in a short trek to the Himalayas or shooting pictures at a tiger resort.

Friends marvel at his almost boyish quest for the small pleasures of eating out, hanging out at lounge bars or enjoying a quiet dinner at a friend’s home. Rahul is said to be unfussy about food, wolfing down pasta and rogan josh with equal gusto. His best friend is his sister, Priyanka. If you add her husband, businessman Robert Vadra, it’s a happy trio — last seen together at the limited-overs match in Karachi on March 13.

Says a trendspotter and family friend, ‘‘He’s just a regular guy, with regular desires. He likes the company of women, he certainly prefers the stylish, fresh-faced, long-legged beauties to the Prada-wrapped platinum blondes that clutter the place. With his return, he is the most eligible bachelor in the country and it is not surprising to see ambitious mothers wooing him without a trace of embarrassment.’’

While the hot chase may be in full swing, prospective brides and mothers-in-law will have to contend with the Gandhi women — Sonia and Priyanka. With their uncanny feminine intuition for Rahul snatchers, both mother and daughter keep a ferocious watch for those who may step out of line.

As such, most tread with caution for fear of being struck off the circle forever. According to Delhi folklore, this was the reason why the Gandhis quietly dropped one of their best friends a few years ago.

Yet if friends simply don’t betray Rahul’s secrets, it’s not out of fear. The little gestures also command a certain loyalty. Like his father, Rahul makes it a point to stay in touch with extended family and old Nehru-Gandhi loyalists.

Some years ago, he took off to Kasauli, to spend the weekend with family elder B.K. Nehru, Indira’s cousin who died in 2001. When late foreign secretary T.N. Kaul’s children visit Delhi — they live abroad — Rahul makes it a point to meet them.

Two years ago, when a former aide of Indira Gandhi’s died in Kolkata, Rahul flew town, incognito, to pay his condolences to the family.

That the Gandhi mystique still retains some of its magic is conceded by even hard cynics. It is almost easy to be knocked over by the saga — tragedy, betrayal and loss come back like a recurring, Kennedy-style curse.

For this generation, however, it has been a baptism by fire. As one of Sonia’s friends puts it, ‘‘The kids have finally learnt to come to terms with life.’’ For Rahul, life may only have just begun.