Reading through the BJP manifesto released today, it seems clear that the delay in releasing it had much to do with what the party did not want to leave out, but would have preferred not to own up to for the moment.
This duality has always been the party’s preferred strategy, choosing to conceal or reveal its ideological moorings depending on circumstances. Those who believe these ideological moorings do not exist are deluding themselves, much as those observers looking for solace attempt to see a pattern in Narendra Modi’s rhetoric while ignoring Amit Shah’s counterpoint in Uttar Pradesh.
Such people will read the manifesto selectively, emphasising its thrust on the economy and governance. But the document in its entirety makes clear that the BJP has neither wandered away from its Hindutva roots, nor made any attempts to curtail even those aspects of its agenda that were problematic during the last term of the National Democratic Alliance government led by Atal Bihari Vajpayee, such as curriculum reform.
Murli Manohar Joshi’s preface to the manifesto begins by observing that “Al-Andalusi, a Spanish scholar in the 11th Century, in his monumental work 'Tabaqat al-Umam' had discussed the state of science in different countries. He writes, ‘The first nation to have cultivated science is India ... India is known for wisdom of its people.’” What Joshi omits to mention is that Al-Andalusi was actually named Sa’id al-Andalusi and was a great Islamic scholar who held the post of the qadi of Toledo. The omissions in his version are telling.
He goes on to claim that the Indian freedom struggle “which was inspired by Tilak, Gandhi, Aurobindo, Patel, Bose and others, had a clear vision of the civilizational consciousness of India.” Note the omissions here: no Jawaharlal Nehru, no BR Ambedkar, no Bhagat Singh, no Maulana Azad. No prize for guessing what is meant by “the civilizational consciousness of India.”
Claiming that the “situation in the country is deteriorating rapidly” because of our separation from this “consciousness,” Joshi offers a solution: “Delay in resolving the crisis would be dangerous. What is needed is to take lessons from history, recognise the vitality and resilience of India, the power of its world-view and utilize its strength, which drove it to glorious heights and analyse its weaknesses, which led to this abysmal fall. Pick up the thread from the point where the continuum of our civilizational consciousness was lost and reorient the polity in consonance with those strong points of Indian psyche which will be the engine for our future glory.”
This idea of a “civilizational consciousness” must be kept in mind while attempting to make sense of the manifesto when it states, “Education in India needs to be revitalized and reorganized to make future generations proud of their culture, heritage and history and also for creating confidence in the vitality of India.”
Or when it declares, “The content and process of school education shall be thoroughly reviewed to make it dynamic, stress-free, attractive and responsive to the emerging national needs.” In both cases, which are spelt out so clearly by Joshi, the problem lies in what the BJP means by “India”.
These references are easy to miss, and when read in isolation, are difficult to comprehend in their intent. But that is the design not just behind this manifesto, but also this campaign. The fact that some issues have not been made explicit or are not a focus of the campaign does not mean they do not matter for the party or have been forgotten.
At the press conference after the release of the manifesto, when a reporter asked whether the reference on the last page to building the Ram Mandir in Ayodhya was a return to Hindutva, Joshi answered that the manifesto has nothing to do with “‘Hindutva’ or ‘atva’, it is simply a developmental programme and the issues which are culturally important have also been adumbrated in that.” Clearly, the doublespeak that has marked this campaign is also well and truly alive in this manifesto.