In a premeditated move, albeit which was made to appear impulsive, last month Baburam Bhattarai resigned from his position of vice-chairman during the UCPN (Maoist)’s Central Committee (CC) meeting. The reason he cited for public consumption was full of lofty ideals such as, he believes that after spending a certain time and age in public life, leaders should retire and pave the way for aspiring and young talents. He also stated that he was disappointed by party delegates’ unprincipled fight for posts and he wanted to set an example. Few believed him; for, they knew that he was not happy with the role and protocol assigned to him, which was on par with that of Narayan Kaji Shrestha, a newcomer in the party. People, therefore, were quick to surmise that Bhattarai wanted to use the resignation as a bargaining chip to uplift his power and position.
Amidst the drama played inside party doors of persuading Bhattarai to withdraw his resignation, media and social networking sites were full with sceptical comments and stories about him. This made it difficult for Bhattarai to accept an upgraded status such as that of ‘senior leader’, a proposal which he privately accepted at first. He, therefore, declined the offer and instead proposed that all bodies above the CC be dissolved and that all above the rank of CC members (CCM) be reduced to CCMs. The proposal was passed amidst the verbal dissent of those who were demoted, including Shrestha who rightly felt that the new arrangement was in violation of the mandate of the General Convention—the highest body of the party. For all practical purposes, Bhattarai—a CCM like many others—is now second-in-command of the party.
A couple of weeks back, Bhattarai once again made headlines by tweeting that he would have jailed the ex-king had he been sitting prime minister. The reason, according to him, was that the ex-king was conspiring to restore the monarchy. Though Bhattarai could not produce any evidence to substantiate his accusation, he alleged that the recent distribution of relief materials to flood victims of the Far West by the ex-king and his family was part or prelude of such a plan. This time as well, public responses to Bhattarai’s arguments and allegations were hardly sympathetic. People condemned his remarks as indecent. They opined that opposition to humanitarian and philanthropic works—just because it was carried out by the ex-king—is not justified. Moreover, his own party kept mum; party men didn’t come forward to defend him, possibly because they calculated that the maverick has gone a little too far. Hence, defending him in the face of widespread public anger would cost the party dearly.
But Bhattarai didn’t stop here; he fired his second attack against the ex-king. His second Tweet, which says that the monarchy is venomous, boomeranged badly. The backlash forced him to make his tone milder. However, his ‘mild’ third Tweet on the topic wasn’t able to undo the damage already done. He now remains one of the most disliked politicians in the country, thanks to his own manipulations and miscalculations.
Despite being the number two leader of a brutal communist insurgency that claimed nearly 14,000 lives, besides causing other colossal damage, during the first five years of the post-insurgency era Bhattarai was the darling of urbanites, the educated and the middle-class. And this incongruity was not without reason. The classes loved him on two grounds. One, amidst the crowd of corrupt politicians, he was a man of integrity who lived a humble life. Two, he was highly educated and also relatively liberal among the otherwise mass of extremists. Similarly, for insurgents he was the intellectual and international face of their bloody revolution. For India—the ‘kingmaker’ in this country—he was their most trusted friend within the Maoist ranks.
It, therefore, seemed that his popularity and power would only elevate in the days ahead.
Two years down the line, except for the Southern neighbour, nearly all of Bhattarai’s admirers have turned into fierce critics. The ‘class’ is the most vocal one. He, who painstakingly maintained the image of a clean and capable Finance Minister during the party chairman’s premiership, was marred by controversies of corruption when he became the premier. His wife, who is also a party leader, was widely accused of nepotism and taking kickbacks and people have every reason to believe that she was acting on his behalf and/or orders.
He demonstrated unusual greed for the position of prime minister and declined to quit even when he failed to conduct elections for the Constituent Assembly, which he had promised to hold. He announced and publicised a number of measures that he said would deliver good governance but hardly cared when they proved ineffective and unsustainable. For he was not particular about good governance and was only after cheap popularity.
Therefore, despite the plethora of populist measures he introduced during his premiership, some of which were quite innovative, he is now one of the most disliked politicians in the nation. Despite his intellectual soundness and political correctness that made his party’s safe landing into peaceful and mainstream politics possible and successful, common people discern that he is an illiberal leader who practices double standards. Because of his impractical handling and poor personal rapport, his supporters within the party—who were already few numerically—have been steadily dwindling; many have deserted to the Chairman’s faction. However, Bhattarai doesn’t seem to have grasped the changed mood and opinions of people, which include his party men. His problem is that he does not and cannot study human behaviour and its composite form—social behaviour—the way he scans books. Books on political economy written from leftist perspectives and biographies of ‘revolutionaries’ are his favourites; humans and their behaviour are not. Unable to read the change that is taking place in society, the bookish, therefore, make public relation blunders in series.
