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Chief Minister Patnaik has acquired an aura of wiliness. To benefit politically, he has to show results on the ground

By Swapan Dasgupta 

On the flight to Bhubaneswar, Naveen Patnaik was at his characteristically fussy best. First, he tore his hair over a possible name for the new Export Promotion Zone (EPZ) at Paradip port that Commerce Minister Murasoli Maran had sanctioned the day before. "It must be a simple name that evokes Orissa's maritime history." The civil servants accompanying him being of no real help, he settled down to thinking aloud about the two rooms in Navin Niwas that were being painted. "I hope they get it right. The place is in such a mess."

On both counts they almost got it right. After some wild suggestions, BJD Secretary-General Prasanna Acharya came up with Boita Nagari -- the city of boats -- and the chief minister was enchanted. As for the renovation, Naveen was visibly relieved. He was bowled over by the tussar-coloured Sambalpuri ikat curtains he had personally selected. "Now it feels like home," he said, quite chuffed with himself.

To make it a shade more homely, Naveen brought back a curious assortment of knick-knacks from his tasteful Aurangzeb Road house in Delhi -- a wooden salad bowl, a butter knife and a simple steel tray. Summoning his major-domo Kalia from the kitchen, he thrust the tray at him. "Now serve water on this," he ordered. "I don't want to see that horrible plastic thing you use again."

For three days Kalia erred and each time Naveen pointed out the lapse. For the perfectionist chief minister, nothing is too insignificant. Whether it is the decor of the conference room at the secretariat or the small problem the industry minister is having over the sale of a sick unit, he wants to get it right. And be correct at the same time. In Orissa that's like demanding the impossible.

The problem is that Naveen's measure of correctness is too exacting. Familiar with the feisty imperiousness of Biju Patnaik and the manipulations of J.B. Patnaik, the political class finds Naveen an enigma. His aesthetic disdain for sleaze, the premium he attaches to civility and his fanatical devotion to fairness make him an oddity in a state devastated by natural disasters and human greed. "Naveen has to show whether he's a server or a virus," says former Union minister Srikanta Jena. "For the moment he's just a noise pollution-free politician."

The jury is still out. Orissa's politicos seem unable to arrive at an informed judgement. What are they to make of a man who can bewilder colleagues by breaking into a Cole Porter recitation and simultaneously stump everyone with a well-targeted bureaucratic reshuffle? Is Naveen Patnaik a "one-time bubble waiting to burst", as former BJD MP Tathagata Satpathy insists? Or could it be that behind the air of a shy, distracted dilletante resides a sharp mind, at ease with the labyrinthine intrigues of Orissa? After all, to his jet-set cosmopolitan friends, the heir of Biju was often called the "Oriya serpent".

If Bhubaneswar finds Naveen infuriatingly hard to decipher it is because the chief minister is an intensely private person. His social interactions in the state capital are limited to state Energy Minister and Doon School friend A.U. Singh Deo and industrialist Baijayant Panda, who was elected to the Rajya Sabha on a BJD ticket last month. But these are social interactions. Neither Singh Deo nor Panda can truly be counted as the chief minister's advisers, although he listens to them. Just as he listens to all the ministers, MLAs and civil servants. Naveen has acquired an image of inscrutability because he has built a Great Wall between friendship and statecraft.

Not that this prevents tongues wagging. After coming to power, the chief minister effected a deft reshuffle of secretaries. Bureaucrats with a reputation for unimpeachable integrity were posted to key departments. Conventional wisdom deemed that since Naveen was unfamiliar with the record of the Orissa bureaucracy, he must have been advised by someone. The grapevine points the needle of suspicion at Pyari Mohan Mahapatra, a retired civil servant who was secretary to Biju during his last stint as chief minister. "All the officers who got key posts were Pyaribabu's proteges. They were kept out by J.B. Patnaik," says a former BJD MLA. "It's Pyaribabu who is remote-controlling the administration."

The chief minister laughs away suggestions that he is just a mukhauta (mask). "A 53-year-old man can take advice from many quarters but can make up his own mind." He's being honest. Despite his unfamiliarity with Oriya, Naveen is not at sea with Orissa. The BJP ministers have discovered this to their bitter cost. To keep the coalition equation firmly intact, he has landed BJP ministers with stern, unbending bureaucrats who play by the book. Urban Development Minister Samir De and Cooperatives Minister Arabinda Dhali complain they have "difficult" secretaries. With Industry Minister Kanak Bardhan Singh Deo, Naveen used a different tack. Familiar with his feud with uncle A.U. Singh Deo, he has put the same secretary at the helm of both the uncle and nephew's departments. The message to the fractious Bolangir royals is simple: bury the hatchet or perish. "Naveen will become a greater politician than J.B. Patnaik," says BJD MLA Joyram Pangi.

To Naveen that isn't a compliment, but since he expelled dissident Bijoy Mahapatra from the party in a brilliant coup the chief minister has acquired a reputation for wiliness. "The MLAs and ministers are afraid of him," says a BJD functionary. Naveen may dismiss this as "complete rubbish" but he is not displeased with his new reputation. Apart from overshadowing the outsider image, it has kept politicians in a state of high tension. Even BJD stalwarts can't fathom their chief minister when he directs a district politician "to remember that there are people in your district other than the BJD." Self-serving politicos are left frothing when he reminds them that he vacated his ministerial house in Delhi within 15 days of demitting office. No wonder Satpathy believes, "Naveen is his own worst enemy." He's too upright for local tastes.

His sanctimoniousness leaves old-timers fuming. "This is your 35th day in office," Cuttack MP Bhartruhari Mahtab reminded him ominously. With a massive mandate behind him, Naveen can afford to be bored by snide asides. Just as he has learnt to ignore a hostile local media. But if the "ghouls" -- as he calls the moaners -- are to remain irrelevant, he has to deliver. And for delivery he has to depend on a bureaucracy noted for its sloth and negotiable integrity.

Naveen has managed generous doses of Central assistance for the cyclone-devastated state. It is estimated that more than Rs 1,200 crore is at the state's disposal for reconstruction work. But the delivery systems are faulty. It is estimated that more than 60 per cent of the foodgrain aimed at those below the poverty line (BPL) end up in the open market. Nowrangpur district, for example, had more BPL cardholders than the total population. Plus there is a woeful shortage of bricks for constructing the required 16.5 lakh new houses. And, it doesn't help that in making the EPZ meaningful, the state bureaucracy lacks orientation.

"The work must begin," the chief minister tells his officials incessantly. The fact is, it hasn't begun, on one pretext or another. On its rapid progress will depend the fate of Naveen Patnaik. If the most incredible political honeymoon in recent history isn't to end in an ugly divorce, the "Oriya serpent" has to dig his fangs where it really matters.

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