April 6, 1998

The new speaker will need all the luck to manage a precariously hung House. 

By Javed M Ansari

Ganti Mohana Chandra Balayogi checked his overnight bag to ensure that everything was in place: toothbrush, shaving kit, two changes of clothes and of course the election certificate. That's all he would need during the two-day trip to Delhi for the swearing-in ceremony -- the MP from Amalapuram was returning to the Lok Sabha after a gap of 21 months. As the Hyderabad-Delhi Indian Airlines flight took off from Begumpet airport after a half-hour delay on March 23 morning, 47-year-old Balayogi sat back and relaxed. He was looking forward to nothing more than a routine day at the Lok Sabha.

What Balayogi didn't expect was that within hours his life would change dramatically. Barely had the aircraft taxied to a halt when an announcement came over the public address system: "Mr Balayogi, Telugu Desam MP, please exit first. It is an emergency." On the tarmac, the Andhra Pradesh resident commissioner pulled him into a waiting car and said: "We're going to Parliament Mr Balayogi, you're the BJP-TDP candidate for Speaker."

Balayogi was not the only one to be stunned by the announcement. Just the previous day the BJP, with virtually no hope of getting its own candidate elected, had agreed on P.A. Sangma as the consensus choice. But overnight, things changed. Late on March 22 night, Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee's persistence paid off when he managed to contact TDP chief N. Chandrababu Naidu. The wily Naidu, though interested in the Speaker's post for his party, played hard to get and promised to reply early next morning.

Up with the lark, Vajpayee called Naidu who sought an hour's time to come up with the candidate's name. Oblivious of the Vajpayee-Naidu parleys, Parliamentary Affairs Minister Madan Lal Khurana rang up Sangma to congratulate him. Home Minister L.K. Advani was scheduled to meet Congress leader Sharad Pawar at 9.30 a.m. to discuss Sangma's candidature, but shortly before the meeting he was advised to postpone it. When they met an hour later, all that Advani had to tell Pawar was that the "BJP has decided to support a TDP candidate", whose name he wasn't sure of. Meanwhile, Naidu sent an SOS to K. Yerran Naidu, the TDPP leader, to file his papers as the cover candidate for Balayogi, who by then was already on the flight to Delhi. Dealing directly with Vajpayee, Naidu struck a hard bargain. The price for the support of his 12 MPs was the Speaker's chair, the fourth most important constitutional post -- and significant in a precariously hung Lok Sabha.

Nondescript one day, national celebrity the next: that was Balayogi's transformation. After all, the man is perhaps politically the least experienced Speaker ever. Consider his previous jobs: minister for higher education in Andhra Pradesh since 1995; prior to that, Zilla Parishad chairman of East Godavari district; and munsif magistrate in Kakinada. At one point, he was also an advocate of sorts. He was a member of the 10th Lok Sabha but colleagues remember him as the man who opened his mouth just twice in five years. Now, he presides over a House comprising three former prime ministers, three former speakers, 16 former chief ministers, a host of legislative luminaries -- and, as Balayogi found out on his first day in office, a belligerent Opposition. Outsmarted by the BJP, an angry Opposition directed its ire at the new Speaker and virtually hijacked the proceedings of the House. There was little that Balayogi could do, except to say "please, please".

If loyalty to his leader (Naidu) is one of Balayogi's assets, then his other plus point is that he is a Dalit. In fact, there is a disarming naivety about the man. He may not have Sangma's charm or Balram Jakhar's shrewdness or Shivraj Patil's sophistication, but he has two endearing traits: humility and a sense of humour. Soon after the Opposition grilling, when journalists asked him how he felt, Balayogi's reply was: "Going by today's experience, you must ask me this everyday." On his second day, he called a meeting of leaders of all parties and requested their cooperation. Balayogi needs it, for he has taken charge at a crucial juncture. A truncated House, the unseemly controversy over his selection and apprehensions of the BJP manipulating an inexperienced Speaker. "My fear is that the BJP will try and misuse him to break smaller parties," says the BSP's Mayawati. All these may have queered the pitch for Balayogi. But the man is firm: "I may be inexperienced; but I have trust in my colleagues, faith in my abilities and the good sense to follow the rule book."

Meanwhile, far from the hot political climes of Delhi, in Yedurulanka village of Andhra Pradesh's East Godavari district, former armyman G. Gannaiah, a Dalit, is dreaming great dreams. His son has become the Speaker. The last Telugu to become the Lok Sabha Speaker was Neelam Sanjeeva Reddy, who later became President. No wonder, Balayogi's father is already talking of the day his son will reside on Raisina Hill. Wishful thinking? Who knows; it's the age of the underdog, isn't it?

Issue Contents | Write to us | Subscriptions

© Living Media India Ltd