Annie Gowen
By Annie Gowen
At a recent rally, supporters of an upstart Indian political party waved brooms in the air — a signal they’re ready to clean house — danced in the dusty, sun-dappled street and chanted “End corruption!”
A clamour rose when the party’s leader, a slight man with glasses named Arvind Kejriwal, arrived in the back of an open sport-utility vehicle. As he greeted supporters, they pelted him with marigold blooms and chanted “Kejriwal! Kejriwal!”
Kejriwal, 45, was a little-known tax inspector-turned-activist just three years ago, before he spearheaded a series of hunger strikes and exposes of India’s rich and powerful that won widespread public support.
But now Kejriwal faces his toughest challenge — turning that political goodwill into actual votes. His newly formed Aam Aadmi (Common Man’s) Party faces its first test in elections in the capital on December 4, a run-up to national elections next spring.
As his SUV crawled through the narrow streets of a working-class neighbourhood of lumber shops and tiny stores, Kejriwal said he was elated by the response.
But reality kicked in when a TV news crew climbed atop the vehicle’s running board and thrust a microphone in his face. News was breaking that candidates from Kejriwal’s party had been caught by a sting operation in which they appeared to welcome under-the-table donations. “We are not disturbed about it,” Kejriwal said, after pledging to review the tapes and dismiss any candidates who acted improperly. But it was the latest in a string of blows that showed that Kejriwal’s shift from people’s icon to politician may be more difficult than expected.
It’s been two years since the India Against Corruption movement caught fire, prompting demonstrations in the streets of Delhi and other cities. Middle-class residents were galvanised by several government corruption scandals and a growing sense of frustration over the bribes they had to pay in their
own lives.
“Everything is costly. We have no proper lights, no proper sewage and no drinking water,” said Sushila Yadav, a 50-year-old schoolteacher from the western part of New Delhi who turned up to cheer on Kejriwal recently. “I don’t like paying bribes, but we are forced to.”
Kejriwal has been campaigning against corruption since his early days as a bureaucrat, when he saw other government officials misbehave.
But it was not until 2011, when he joined forces with another activist, Anna Hazare, that he got widespread attention.
Hazare, now 76, became the movement’s figurehead, a wise elder who clothed himself in Gandhian white and went on hunger strikes that captivated the county.
Both men wanted India’s Parliament to pass the Lokpal bill, creating a kind of corruption ombudsman for the nation. But the fevered excitement soon faded, and the bill languished.
By last summer, Kejriwal and his supporters decided they had to try something different, according to Prashant Bhushan, a lawyer and co-founder of the Aam Aadmi Party.
“It crystallized . . . that the parties and the whole system had gotten so corrupted that they were not going to yield unless they are seriously challenged in elections by honest people,” Bhushan said. Kejriwal and Hazare had a painful public parting of the ways over the younger man’s decision to enter politics, and the two clashed again early in November, when Hazare accused the AAP of unauthorised use of his name and likeness and questioned whether Kejriwal was using funds from their civic movement for political gain. Kejriwal denied both accusations.
The AAP has promised free water and reduced electric bills, which critics charge is a calculated move to get votes in this sprawling city of 16 million, in which the government estimates that about half the population lives in slums and illegal housing.
Kejriwal counts among his supporters teachers, small-business owners and many of the city’s auto-rickshaw drivers, who have plastered the AAP banners on the backs of their ubiquitous green-and-yellow three-wheeled vehicles. The party has received about $3.5m in small donations — which it scrupulously notes on its website, an action rare in Indian politics.
AAP is fielding candidates for nearly all seats in New Delhi’s assembly, which is similar to a state government. Kejriwal himself is taking on Sheila Dikshit, the powerful three-term chief minister from the governing Indian National Congress party.
A recent poll on the assembly election by ABP News-Dainik Bhaskar-Nielsen found 33 percent backed the main opposition Bharatiya Janata Party, 26 percent Dikshit’s Congress party and 23 percent the AAP. Other polls have the AAP garnering far fewer seats.
The party has attracted much notice among Indian expatriates, and party chapters have formed around the globe.
“When I see all the crowd, their expectations are so high, sometimes it becomes scary,” Kejriwal said, gesturing to the people with their white caps just like his, emblazoned with the words: I am the common man.
“But I think this is going to happen.”
WP-BLOOMBERGBy Annie Gowen
At a recent rally, supporters of an upstart Indian political party waved brooms in the air — a signal they’re ready to clean house — danced in the dusty, sun-dappled street and chanted “End corruption!”
A clamour rose when the party’s leader, a slight man with glasses named Arvind Kejriwal, arrived in the back of an open sport-utility vehicle. As he greeted supporters, they pelted him with marigold blooms and chanted “Kejriwal! Kejriwal!”
Kejriwal, 45, was a little-known tax inspector-turned-activist just three years ago, before he spearheaded a series of hunger strikes and exposes of India’s rich and powerful that won widespread public support.
But now Kejriwal faces his toughest challenge — turning that political goodwill into actual votes. His newly formed Aam Aadmi (Common Man’s) Party faces its first test in elections in the capital on December 4, a run-up to national elections next spring.
As his SUV crawled through the narrow streets of a working-class neighbourhood of lumber shops and tiny stores, Kejriwal said he was elated by the response.
But reality kicked in when a TV news crew climbed atop the vehicle’s running board and thrust a microphone in his face. News was breaking that candidates from Kejriwal’s party had been caught by a sting operation in which they appeared to welcome under-the-table donations. “We are not disturbed about it,” Kejriwal said, after pledging to review the tapes and dismiss any candidates who acted improperly. But it was the latest in a string of blows that showed that Kejriwal’s shift from people’s icon to politician may be more difficult than expected.
It’s been two years since the India Against Corruption movement caught fire, prompting demonstrations in the streets of Delhi and other cities. Middle-class residents were galvanised by several government corruption scandals and a growing sense of frustration over the bribes they had to pay in their
own lives.
“Everything is costly. We have no proper lights, no proper sewage and no drinking water,” said Sushila Yadav, a 50-year-old schoolteacher from the western part of New Delhi who turned up to cheer on Kejriwal recently. “I don’t like paying bribes, but we are forced to.”
Kejriwal has been campaigning against corruption since his early days as a bureaucrat, when he saw other government officials misbehave.
But it was not until 2011, when he joined forces with another activist, Anna Hazare, that he got widespread attention.
Hazare, now 76, became the movement’s figurehead, a wise elder who clothed himself in Gandhian white and went on hunger strikes that captivated the county.
Both men wanted India’s Parliament to pass the Lokpal bill, creating a kind of corruption ombudsman for the nation. But the fevered excitement soon faded, and the bill languished.
By last summer, Kejriwal and his supporters decided they had to try something different, according to Prashant Bhushan, a lawyer and co-founder of the Aam Aadmi Party.
“It crystallized . . . that the parties and the whole system had gotten so corrupted that they were not going to yield unless they are seriously challenged in elections by honest people,” Bhushan said. Kejriwal and Hazare had a painful public parting of the ways over the younger man’s decision to enter politics, and the two clashed again early in November, when Hazare accused the AAP of unauthorised use of his name and likeness and questioned whether Kejriwal was using funds from their civic movement for political gain. Kejriwal denied both accusations.
The AAP has promised free water and reduced electric bills, which critics charge is a calculated move to get votes in this sprawling city of 16 million, in which the government estimates that about half the population lives in slums and illegal housing.
Kejriwal counts among his supporters teachers, small-business owners and many of the city’s auto-rickshaw drivers, who have plastered the AAP banners on the backs of their ubiquitous green-and-yellow three-wheeled vehicles. The party has received about $3.5m in small donations — which it scrupulously notes on its website, an action rare in Indian politics.
AAP is fielding candidates for nearly all seats in New Delhi’s assembly, which is similar to a state government. Kejriwal himself is taking on Sheila Dikshit, the powerful three-term chief minister from the governing Indian National Congress party.
A recent poll on the assembly election by ABP News-Dainik Bhaskar-Nielsen found 33 percent backed the main opposition Bharatiya Janata Party, 26 percent Dikshit’s Congress party and 23 percent the AAP. Other polls have the AAP garnering far fewer seats.
The party has attracted much notice among Indian expatriates, and party chapters have formed around the globe.
“When I see all the crowd, their expectations are so high, sometimes it becomes scary,” Kejriwal said, gesturing to the people with their white caps just like his, emblazoned with the words: I am the common man.
“But I think this is going to happen.”
WP-BLOOMBERG
