Analysis: History will judge Abdul Kalam's candidacy

A.P.J. Abdul Kalam entered his first press conference in New Delhi looking more like a creature from Star Wars than a missile man. Watching India's president-elect perform, a professional colleague remarked, "Can we really take this man seriously?"

The cynicism stemmed principally from the style of the man. Hair flailing all over the place, crumpled shirt and ill-fitting trousers, Abdul Kalam hardly looked like someone who could be at the head of the table in Rashtrapati Bhavan playing host to kings, queens and presidents.

Whenever a tough question was asked, Abdul Kalam would turn to a piece of paper and read from the prepared text with Parliamentary Affairs Minister Pramod Mahajan orchestrating the the entire event. It all appeared a little too choreographed to be real.

A few hours after that press conference, I met a few friends from the corporate world. They too, had just watched Abdul Kalam perform "live" on television. "Isn't he a great guy?" they asked, going into raptures over how the technologist was set to give a scientific edge to Indian politics.

"Finally, we've got someone we can be proud of as president," said the friend.

The divergent responses to Abdul Kalam's candidature is indicative of how an increasingly cynical media's perception of the presidency is no longer shared by the Great Indian Public. For the media, the president should ideally be a creature of the constitution, someone who has a real feel for politics but at the same time has the stature to rise above partisanship. For the average Indian, the president is someone who should have nothing to do with politics, people whose achievements outside the political world should automatically guarantee them a larger-than-life image.

In this worldview, a Narayan Murthy of Infosys or even a Sachin Tendulkar has the credentials to become a Rashtrapati ahead of all the politicians, bureaucrats and governors who aspire for the post.

The political-bureaucratic elite must share a large part of the responsibility for these changing perceptions. The original constituent assembly saw the president as primarily a symbolic figure who would act as a conscience-keeper for the nation. Unfortunately, the symbolism was misinterpreted to suggest that the president of India is little more than a political rubberstamp, someone who has to follow the diktat of the executive without any protest.

When a Giani Zail Singh tried to recast himself as an activist president, he did so with the intent of virtually staging a palace coup against the then prime minister Rajiv Gandhi, and not with the idea of ensuring the dignity and autonomy of the presidency.

While the likes of R. Venkataraman and K.R. Narayanan did help restore the sanctity of Rashtrapati Bhavan, they were both seen as essentially Congress party politicians. And in today's environment, anyone who has been touched with the political brush is always going to be confronted with a credibility crisis at some stage or the other.

Abdul Kalam is the beneficiary of this "We Hate Our Politicians" attitude that dominates the Indian mindset. As journalists, we are more interested in finding out where Abdul Kalam stands on critical issues like the violence in Gujarat or the Indo-Pak conflict. But the common man appears to have little interest in whether Abdul Kalam would have imposed article 356 in Gujarat or whether he would have encouraged the country's political leadership to consider using the nuclear weapon. For the man on the street, Abdul Kalam's is an uncommon success story, from the poverty of Rameswaram to becoming the head of the country's defence research establishment.

We might question Abdul Kalam's scientific credentials, but most Indians aren't worried whether he is a doctorate from Oxford or just a B.Sc. from a Tamil Nadu university. For them, he is an Indian who has achieved something without relying on nepotism or corruption. Indeed, the fact that he has lived most of his life in a one-room tenement makes him such an attractive candidate for now residing in the opulent Rashtrapati Bhavan . The very crumpled look that we don't find television-savvy is, ironically, his biggest appeal. After all, in an age of netas with Mont Blanc pens and Cartier watches, Abdul Kalam's Gandhian-like austerity is a reminder of a lost era in public life.

Again, while the media might worry about Abdul Kalam being appropriated by the Sangh Parivar as a token nationalist Muslim, to the brass factory worker in Moradabad or the shopowner near Char Minar, he is a symbol of hope in difficult times. In a post-September 11 and post-Godhra world, where the minorities have felt a sense of siege, Abdul Kalam helps rid us of some of the stereotypes that have become so tragically divisive. A South Indian Muslim who can't speak Urdu, a veena-playing technologist who doesn't have a beard, a teetotaler and a vegetarian, Abdul Kalam is the polar opposite of the stereotype of the ghettoised Muslim that has been sought to be perpetuated by a section of our society.

So, Abdul Kalam carries with him more public goodwill than any other Indian president with the possible exception of Dr Rajendra Prasad who, after all, was seen as a legatee of the freedom struggle. The question is, can this goodwill be enough to make him a good, if not great Indian president?

This is where the scepticism must return. In this initial honeymoon period, Abdul Kalam can get away with virtually anything, including press conferences that sound like college classroom lessons and answers to critical questions like Gujarat being read out. For now, Abdul Kalam can even get away by being chaperoned by Pramod Mahajan and his secretary around Delhi. But for how long will he enjoy this special status?

The fact is that there will come a time when Abdul Kalam will have to show that he is more than just a super-technologist occupying the country's highest constitutional office. If not Gujarat, then there will be other parts of this country which will be ravaged by violence. In an era of coalition politics, there will be more instances where he will be asked to decide which party or alliance to invite first to form a government. He can seek good advice on these occasions, but most of all he will have to rely on his own judgement. That is when he will have to prove that he is no one's proxy candidate, that he isn't a token Muslim being used by the nation's political leadership. For now, we can celebrate Abdul Kalam's candidature for president as an experiment worth trying out. But what the final product will be, we must leave history to judge.

The writer is managing editor, New Delhi Television.