Why Stalin is better than Karunanidhi for DMK

The inheritor can lead the party from dynasty to democracy

By naming MK Stalin the deputy chief minister of Tamil Nadu on Friday, his father and chief minister M Karunanidhi has surprised none. It was a promotion long pending, a logical progression towards the ultimate coronation.
Karunanidhi cannot dodge accusations of promoting dynastic politics, but none can dispute that Stalin deserves the rise. After the aborted bid to propel his son MK Muthu into the high-orbit of politics, Karunanidhi’s perseverance with Stalin has yielded ground results.
From campaigning for the 1967 elections as a 14-year-old to remaining in the Dravidian political limelight during the dark days of Emergency, Stalin has enough roots to withstand the winds of anti-dynasty flak. Stalin, now 56, has been a slow learner alright, but he did learn, to be what he is today. Even after becoming the Mayor of Chennai and a legislator, Stalin remained in the shadows of his father, not interacting much with the media.
Assigned the managerial post of the DMK campaign, the 2001 assembly elections was the litmus test for Stalin. And he failed. Not that it affected the chances of his ascension, but the father wanted Stalin to prove his mettle before taking over the mantle. Stalin was made the deputy general secretary in 2003. Probably he started showing results after that. From revitalising party units across the state, even while filling them with his loyal men, to the dazzling show of the DMK in the recent general elections, Stalin can claim much credit and eligibility to fill his father’s shoes.
Karunanidhi’s retirement will no doubt be an emotional episode in the Dravidian mega serial, but a dispassionate, clinical analysis shows that Stalin would make a better leader for the party. Here is how: Right now, Karunanidhi is under tremendous pressure from different members of his extended family. While apportioning the power pie between the warring Dayanidhi Maran and Azhagiri, the octogenarian is also answerable to Rajathi Ammal when she asks how the patriarch could ignore her daughter Kanimozhi.
On another side, Karunanidhi has to keep his daughter Selvi, who is married to Murasoli Maran’s brother, by keeping the interests of the Marans fulfilled.
Stalin need not yield to such pressure groups within the family. By virtue of being an inheritor and not the patriarch, Stalin will have to only keep the family members happy, not bend over backwards to accommodate their whims and fancies. This would augur well for a party, which still preserves some remnants of its cadre-based past. As more voices within the party units will resonate over the cacophony of warring family members, party cadres may redefine and rediscover the purpose of their toil. In other words, the DMK will become more party-centric and less family-centric. That it takes an inheritor to lead the DMK from dynasty to democracy is a case of classic irony.

Karunanidhi pulls a fast one

As Tigers face extermination, Dravidian leaders roar for votes

When Muthuvel Karunanidhi went on a surprise fast this morning on the Tamil Eelam issue, some thought he was a bit too late, considering that his bete noire and AIADMK prima donna J Jayalalithaa had already gone on a fast more than a month-and-a-half ago on the same. When he called off the fast before lunch hour and after "assurances" from Sonia Gandhi and Manmohan Singh, things got clearer: Tamil Eelam issue has become an election issue in Tamil Nadu.

And this should be a specimen of study for journalists, political observers and just anybody desperately trying to make sense of the political cauldron called Tamil Nadu. For, this is a classical case of politicians competing to assemble, if not invent, an emotional election issue in the absence of one. This beats the conventional design of campaign rhetoric that is catalysed around an already existing public mood.

But for the sporadic spurts from Vaiko, Nedumaran, Thirumavalavan and S Ramadoss, Tamil Eelam has more than less remained a subdued issue till Jayalalithaa went on a fast on March 10. It was easy to presume that Jayalalithaa had heeded to some bad advice. That presumption still appears valid, but the fast did stun Karunanidhi and, for the first time, triggered serious discussions if Eelam would be an election issue.

Karunanidhi waited an uneasy wait and, as the war in Sri Lanka reached a crescendo, took the plunge on April 19, saying Prabhakaran is his friend and that the LTTE leader is not a terrorist. As his ally Congress made its distaste clear, Karunanidhi tried to eat his words the very next day, but kept chewing on his options as Sri Lanka refused to entertain India’s and international communities’ call for a ceasefire.

Then came Jayalalithaa's bombshell last Saturday: Eelam is the only solution to the Sri Lankan problem. Amidst reports of Prabhakaran planning to escape by a submarine, as Sri Lanka prepared for the final assault on the 12 sq km coastal strip where the LTTE’s left-over fighters and a debatable number of civilians were confined to, an MDMK functionary forwarded a text message (with a request to “forward it to everyone… since u r going to SAVE A LIFE thru sms). The message that made the rounds late on Sunday (April 26) said that the Sri Lankan president has ordered the army to use chemical weapons to destroy LTTE and it would cost some 15,000 Tamilians' lives. At 6 o’clock the next morning, Karunanidhi was wheeled to the Anna Samadhi by the Marina beach for the fast.

“Let me be yet another victim of Sri Lankan President Rajapakse. This is my sacrifice for the Tamil cause,” Karunanidhi said. Powerful words, indeed, that had Prime Minister Manmohan Singh calling him up immediately.

The three-decade old ethnic strife and war in the island nation had cost thousands of lives – that of Tamils and Sinhalese. There have been credible reports that the India government has been aiding Sri Lanka in surveillance during the war. Both Karunanidhi and Jayalalithaa have been aware of this, but it took an election for them to fast and be furious. If consistency is anything to thrust legitimacy over the Eelam issue upon someone, Vaiko should get that, but not these two leaders. It is another matter that Vaiko has considered Eelam his political oxygen in Tamil Nadu.

Coming back to where we started, Tamil Eelam is now an election issue, an election campaign issue. But then, will it be an electoral issue? This election issue is cobbled up by politicians, but for that to become an electoral issue, it needs the participation of the electorate. A Tamilian – or any other Indian – has the right to sympathise with his brethren facing genocide in the neighbouring country. But it becomes an electoral issue only when the voters – you and me – decide that it weighs on our decision to vote for the formation of a government in India.

Karunanidhi and Jayalalithaa are trying.

Of brinjals, mangoes and politics

PMK continues to do what it does best-- vacillate

Five summers ago, I got myself invited to spend a day with Pattali Makkal Katchi founder S Ramadoss at his famous ‘Thailapuram thottam’ near Tindivanam for a profile I was to write. He was the perfect host, welcoming me with a ‘sombu’ of butter milk with herbs and later laying a table with all the non-vegetarian dishes I love. He stuck to a modest vegetarian diet. Between morsels of rice and vegetables grown in his pretty big backyard, Ramadoss spoke about his extended trysts with M Karunanidhi and J Jayalalithaa, his early days as a doctor, and the “necessity” that pushed him to launch the PMK. He took me on a conducted tour of the political training institute run by the PMK to give classroom lessons to aspiring politicians, and later to the farm which has more than a hundred species of herbs, shrubs and trees. I was fascinated by a very ripe brinjal, hanging pendulum-like from a thin stalk, right over a low barb that separated the vegetable garden from the rest of the farm. Its fall looked imminent, but it was very difficult to say which side of the fence the vegetable would land. My photographer colleague and I took a bet.We requested Ramadoss for an early morning photo shoot, when he goes for his walk in the farm. The leader was a sport, literally. At sunrise, there he was, in a yellow T-shirt, trousers and sneakers, aspring in his step. The photographer followed him, shooting well till the sun was up and beating down. Before we packed up, we went to see where the brinjal had landed. There it was, still hanging from the wrinkled stalk, above the fence. A mango, the PMK’s election symbol would have been a more ideal picture to symbolise the party, but the very position of the brinjal oscillating between the two sides of the fence couldn’t have been a truer symbolism of the PMK’s political stand, election after election. The party that Ramadoss founded in 1989 as a political progression of the Vanniyar Sangham he launched nine years ago has been historically been a fence-sitter. As the 15th Lok Sabha elections near, PMK is nothing more, nothing less. PMK leaders proudly say that no alliance in Tamil Nadu has won a majority of the 40 Lok Sabha seats (Tamil Nadu-39, Puducherry- 1) without its participation. But it could also be argued that PMK has been clever enough to be always with the winning combine. It drew a blank in the first two Lok Sabha polls its formation (1991and 1996), when it did not align with either of the big Dravidian parties. PMK’s date with power started in 1998, when it joined the BJP-led National Democratic Alliance along with the AIADMK to bag four seats in the Lok Sabha. The next year, when Jayalalithaa pulled the rug from under the NDA’s feet and DMK rushed to roll the red carpet for BJP, PMK stayed put in the new NDA and got five MPs. The 14th Lok Sabha polls saw the PMK joining the DMK-led Democratic Progressive Alliance which in turn became a constituent of the United Progressive Alliance at the Centre. The PMK’s score in Tamil Nadu went up to six and also got the lone Pondicherry seat. As parties fuel their poll wagons for the 15th Lok Sabha elections, PMK continues to keep everyone guessing. After its “constructive rebellion” as a DPA constituent and the eventual exit from the alliance, PMK has been playing the cat-on-the-wall role perfectly. Despite the barbs he exchanged with Karunanidhi occasionally, there was this general feeling that Ramadoss may finally sail with the DMK combine. It was only yesterday that Congress leader Ghulam Nabi Azad who visited Chennai said PMK is very much part of the UPA. And then, two things happened today (March 06, 2009, Friday). PMK’s mouthpiece ‘Tamil Osai’ carried an editorial blasting both the Congress and the DMKfor trying to use alliances for selfish needs. The crux of the editorial: The Congress has forgotten the fact that it cannot come to power on its own. Regional parties joined the alliance not to strengthen the Congress, but to expand its own horizons. The DMK too has forgotten alliance dharma. Hours after the party newspaper hit the stands, Anbumani Ramadoss told a press conference that the UPA would come retain power. Confused? Well, that’s what Ramadoss wants everyone, including his prospective allies and rivals to be. I don’t know which side of the fence the ripe brinjal finally fell. But I know summer is the season of mangoes.

Moonstruck: An account of the launch of Chandrayaan-1

It has been a while since I updated this blog. The immediate inspiration was a request from a couple of members of an online community of my school friends (some 150 of them!) to give them a mood story of the Chandrayaan launch which I was to cover for my newspaper. While I was indeed looking forward to covering the launch, some of the excited reactions from friends shook me to the realisation that I, like other journalists, am often impervious to the excitement some events we cover generate. Journos are often accused -- and for good reason -- of being impervious and even insensitive . I wrote regular news stories of the launch for my paper, and, as I promised Alex and Jothish, two of my Class X friends of St Joseph's Thiruvananthapuram, sent out this long mail to the online group. The reactions spurred me to uplink it here.

I've been to Sriharikota for half-a-dozen launches, but October 22, 2008 was special. The entrance to the spaceport, for the first time, was decked up with banners and festoons by well-wishers. It has been raining on and off for the past five days. Thunder clouds would be the biggest threat to the vehicle as it takes off, Madhavan Nair had told me when I spoke to him a week before the launch.

When I left Chennai at 1.30 am on the launch day, rain was coming down in sheets. I called up my contacts in Isro to ask if the launch was on. I was asked to call back after 10 minutes (Later, two hours after the launch, Madhavan Nair was to tell a press conference that it was at 1.30 am that the launch authorisation board gave its nod to go ahead). I reached the Satish Dhawan Space Centre at 3.40 am and it was still raining. Scientists told me that it was not the rains that they were worried about-- the charged clouds were the villains.

A comprehensive weather report, prepared from a combination of reports using Indian science agencies' space, land and ocean facilities, has ruled out lightning and thunder for at least six hours. This had the count down going, despite the rain. When I stepped into Brahmprakash Hall, a few hundred meters from mission control and 6 km from the second launch pad where the majestic 44.4-metre PSLV stood with the Chandrayaan-1 spacecraft in its cephalus, it was T-2:15 (2 hours and 15 minutes for take off). I was one of the first journalists to arrive, but in another 30 minutes, the place was teeming with journos from all parts of the country. I could spot a few foreign journalists too.

TV journos were to give live phone-ins and pieces-to-the-cameras every few minutes, and they were facing the problem of lack of phone signals inside the spaceport. BSNL signals were feeble, but there, and I thanked my stars for once that I have a BSNL connection. It was when journalists working with channels scrambled to borrow my phone that I realised that I too am supposed to give a live commentary for Radio Mirchi, one of Times' sister concerns. We had all been working the previous day and had travelled through the night to be here. Nobody had slept-- or had a good dinner. But nobody was complaining. Having walked from our cars to the hall in the downpour, many of us were drenched and the air conditioning inside the hall was freezing us. Around 5.30 am, biscuits and hot tea were served. Brittania never tasted so good! Someone came with news that meant little scientific consolation: The moon has peeped out of the clouds

The huge LCD screens flashed live close-ups of the PSLV-C11—rain splashing on the strap-on motors. Around 6 am, with 22 minutes to go for the take-off, we all went to the open terrace from where we had watched the PSLV thunder into the skies several times. It was dawn and rain had stopped, but the sky remained cloudy. With every passing minute, heart beats got faster. Through the public address system came the baritone of a scientist: T minus two minutes. When the last minute arrived, people held each others hands. T minus 30 seconds. Eyes fixed in the direction of the launch pad, a row of trees blocking our view (You get to see the vehicle a second after it takes off, atop the canopy of trees). 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5.."ignition authorised"... Some clapped with the countdown... 3,2,1... A crimson flash lit up the clouds hanging heavily over the launch pad. The scientist counted "T plus 1". A huge ball of fire, emanating from the PSLV's 12-tonne solid propellant-carrying strap-ons, appeared over the trees, and in a couple of seconds, the vehicle had disappeared behind the clouds. We were unlucky.

My colleagues -- a photographer and a reporter -- who were outside the spaceport, in a village by the Pulikat lake where luckier. They had a good view of the PSLV ascending, the flame reflected on the lake, which had some early morning pelicans and painted storks (no newspaper carried this picture). All of us rushed back indoors, where the trajectory of PSLV was shown on a giant screen to which some 600 scientists remained glued to. With every stage separation, the scientists applauded. So did the journalists (This is one of those rare occasions when I have found journalists joining the celebration). The screen showed the PSLV sticking meticulously to the desired path. A little more than 18 minutes later, PSLV injected Chandrayaan-1 into an earth orbit. It was then that Isro chairman Madhavan Nair stood up and hugged VSSC director Radhakrishnan. Everybody started hugging everybody. It was celebration time. "Our baby is on its way to the moon," project director M Annadurai beamed. "But mind you, there is a long and tough journey ahead," said Madhavan Nair. The real achievement will be around November 8 when the spacecraft gets into the lunar orbit, but this may not be as televised as the PSLV launch.

The spacecraft, which would be on its second revolution around the earth by then, would have to be 'latched on' to the lunar orbit as the moon approaches on its revolution around the earth. This would be done by firing the thrusters of the spacecraft. I am told this is an extremely difficult exercise and the scientists have a window period of about 200 seconds to do this. After that, sending the moon impact probe scuttling down to the lunar surface would be more dramatic, but less cumbersome. The probe, with the Tricolour painted on it, will crash on the moon's surface and the equipment attached to it will collect the dust the impact kicks up for study. An array of other equipment still embedded in Chandrayaan-1, then on a 100-km lunar orbit, will take up a spectrum of studies that may help us find energy for the future and, well, raise more of our curiosity.

Let's all wish our scientists the very best. And look forward to Chandrayaan-2 in 2010 and a manned mission to space by 2015.

Meanwhile: The one man at the spaceport who did nothing, but is most happy about it, is V Krishnamurthy, general manager of mission analysis and range safety. During launches, he sits in a separate room, insulated from commands from anyone including the Isro chairman. In front of him is a red button. His job: Press the button if the vehicle veers off its designated path and poses a threat to local population or ground structures. His is an independent decision, which cannot be questioned by anyone. Krishnamurthy, who has been with SHAR for about 30 years, had to press the red button when the GSLV-F02 strayed from its path some 45 seconds after take-off on July 10, 2006. That destroyed the vehicle above the Bay of Bengal and sent the debris plunging into the sea.

This time, Krishnamurthy was happy that he did not have to extend his hand, as he monitored the take-off from his solitary den in the island by the sea.

The ventriloquist with dark glasses

When Karunanidhi says he doesn't want power, he means he doesn't want to share power


Tamil Nadu chief minister M Karunanidhi is famous for saying something and meaning something else to attain a political goal. So, when the DMK president and captain of the Democratic Progressive Alliance (DPA) said on Sunday that he was prepared to relinquish power if the allies continued to level "baseless" allegations against his government, he was conveying a different message to the Congress-- that he will not share power, though his party does not have absolute majority in the Assembly. It also meant that the octogenarian was fed up and frustrated with his allies -- first the PMK and now the Congress -- which have increasingly been sounding like the opposition.

Karunanidhi said: "If you want to dethrone us by levelling baseless allegations, I am ready to face the change of power in Tamil Nadu," The warning was to the Congress, which has been making a lot of noise in the Assembly over the government's failure in checking pro-LTTE outfits in the state. For the first time since the DMK came to power with the support of the DPA allies, the Congress walked out of the Assembly demanding action against the Dalit Panthers of India, another ally of the DMK, which has been singing praises of LTTE leader V Prabhakaran. Then came finance minister P Chidambaram's statement on Saturday asking the government to curb LTTE activities in the state.

While the Congress' hatred for anyone supporting the LTTE has historical reasons, its diatribe against the government was not without a buildup of belligerence towards the alliance leader. Only a couple of days before the Congress legislators walked out of the Assembly, Tamil Nadu Congress Committee president M Krishnaswamy had made it clear that the party was not happy being just the DMK's scaffold. "The Congress will capture power in the 2011 Assembly elections," Krishnaswamy had said, echoing the sentiments of several Congress leaders whose demand for a share in power in Tamil Nadu Karunanidhi has so far managed to nip in the bud. The Congress leadership in Delhi, too, has finally acknowledged the fact that the party, with 35 MLAs in the 234-member Assembly could claim a share in power when the DMK has only 96 members.

Adding to Karunanidhi's strain is the Congress pressure to silence him on the Sethusamudram project, since his remarks on Ram has done enough harm and the Congress cannot afford to antagonise Hindus at large especially when the likelihood of a mid-term election looms and the BJP is in a buoyant mood. Karunanidhi reads -- and with good reason -- a Congress plot into the statements of Navy chief Sureesh Mehta and National Coast Guard director general RF Contractor on the use and security implication of the Sethusamudram canal.

Even while acting tough with the Congress, Karunanidhi did not hesitate to draw a 'lakshman rekha' for the DPI, promising action against supporters of banned organisations under the UnlawfulActivities (Prevention) Act. Karunanidhi's offer to let go of power was obviously not an ultimatum; it was quite the contrary: a high decibel manoeuvre in the balancing act of remaining in power without sharing it with his allies.

Clock of dynasty clicks in Tamil Nadu

On Tamil poet Vairamuthu's advice to M Karunanidhi's sons MK Stalin and MK Azhagiri that they should consider themselves two hands of a clock, the DMK patriarch told the DMK youth wing conference in Tirunelveli on Sunday (December 16, 2007): "I don't mind which hand is longer or faster as long as the clock shows the correct time." As of now, Karunanidhi's political clock is working fine, with a third hand -- his daughter Kanimozhi -- completing the dial of dynasty.

By proclaiming that "your expectations will soon come true," Karunanidhi was only confirming that Stalin's coronation will happen sooner than later. And Stalin, in all fairness, deserves it (though there are other deserving candidates). Having obtained his political passport during Emergency, the 54-year-old has steadily worked his way up the ladder, as the DMK youth wing leader, legislator, Chennai mayor and DMK deputy general secretary. His only serious challenge within the party was Vaiko. With Vaiko's expulsion in 1993, decks were cleared for Stalin's unhindered ascent.

The rise of Stalin's elder brother MK Azhagiri has been more questionable owing to its 'extra-constitutional' nature. Presiding over a virtual fiefdom in Madurai and surrounding districts in south Tamil Nadu, Azhagiri has more than a say when it comes to selection of party candidates and ministers. By not giving him an official post in the party, Karunanidhi has sought to evade charges of dynastic rule, but it is no secret that the Madurai son's tentacles reach up to Fort St George, the seat of power in Chennai.

The least expected was the entry of Karunanidhi's daughter Kanimozhi in politics, partly by default and partly be design. After a dramatic turn of events cost Dayanidhi Maran (whom Karunanidhi launched on the eve of the 2004 general elections) his ministerial berth and his grand uncle's goodwill, Kanimozhi was handpicked to be Karunanidhi's eyes and ears in Delhi. A Rajya Sabha member, Kanimozhi may not have to wait too long before she lands a ministerial berth.

Not many have forgotten Karunanidhi's futlie efforts to launch his eldest son MK Muthu into movies and politics as an alternative to MGR . Addressing the valedictory meeting of the DMK youth wing, Karunanidhi spoke about the virtues of a good father. The DMK patriarch is one.

Not a post script, this

This blog, as its name suggests, is a post script. So, pardon me, dear readers, this is an aberration brought about by circumstances.

As I start writing this, it is 5.15 pm (December 16, 2007). M Karunanidhi, father of MK Stalin and chief minister of Tamil Nadu, is to speak at the DMK youth wing conference in Tirunelveli three hours from now (he will be late). For all those expecting an announcement from the DMK patriarch, I present this: There won't be anything substantial. MK Stalin will leave the imposing podium as MK Stalin, the deputy general secretary of the party, the local administration minister. Nothing more. Nothing less.

There won't be a coronation, but Karunanidhi will say that Stalin deserves the crown. Not without reason. Starting his political career in 1967 as an under-aged campaigner for his cousin Murasoli Maran, Stalin has worked his way up the party ladder. Stalin launched himself into the political limelight during Emergency, when he was jailed. As a party worker, legislator and Chennai Mayor, Stalin has enough to substantiate his ascent to the throne. Arcot Veersamy, a senior leader and Karunanidhi's lieutanant, is on the record that "the party is ready to accept Stalin as its leader."

Despite all the rolling-the-red-carpet, there won't be a 'pattabhishekam' for one reason: The DMK is insecure at the thought of Karunanidhi retiring. They tried this in 2001 when Stalin was asked to run the election machinary. He failed. He learnt a bit after that.

This is the first time DMK president M Karunanidhi has allowed any of its front organisations to have a separate state conference. And the youth wing, which came into being in 1980 with Stalin at the helm, made it really huge. But Karunanidhi's shoes are still too big for Stalin. Some day, somehow, he has to step into them. And then, the DMK will shrink, if not split.

Post post script: Karunanidhi himself has been reiterating that "elders should give way to the youth." If the DMK is to put this to practice at the Tirunelveli conference, it is more likely that Stalin passes on the youth wing baton to a younger leader than Karunanidhi giving way to Stalin.