"V.P. Singh, Chandrashekhar, Sonia Gandhi and Main" Book review by Dr Suresh Khairnar
- Introduction: Revisiting a Turbulent Political Era
- Santosh Bhartiya: From Tarun Shanti Sena to the Lok Sabha
- A Political Chronicle: V.P. Singh and the Mandal Legacy
- Chandrashekhar’s Complex Political Persona
- Sonia Gandhi, Rajiv Gandhi, and the Politics of Succession
- Behind the Scenes: Journalism, Power, and Corruption
- Jan Morcha, AAP, and the Cadre Question in Indian Movements
- Kashmir, Communalism, and the Price of Silence
- Legacy and Limitations: What the Book Leaves Unsaid
Lessons from the Past for Today’s India
A gripping review of Santosh Bhartiya’s memoir chronicling India’s post-Janata politics, with rare insights into V.P. Singh, Chandrashekhar & Sonia Gandhi
V.P. Singh, Chandrashekhar, Sonia Gandhi and Me
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| "V.P. Singh, Chandrashekhar, Sonia Gandhi and Main" Book review by Dr Suresh Khairnar |
With this title, one of my friends from the time of the JP Movement, Mr. Santosh Bhartiya, has written a book. Even before the Bihar movement initiated by Jayaprakash Narayan, at the beginning of the 1980s, he started a youth organisation called 'Tarun Shanti Sena' on JP's initiative. Youths from across India first participated in this organization, and in protest against the prevailing education system, some even left their studies midway. Santosh Bhartiya was one such passionate youth.
Later, for the Bihar movement, a non-partisan organization called Chhatra Yuva Sangharsh Vahini started under JP's initiative, and Santosh Bhartiya was involved in that too. However, after the Janata Party's electoral victory in 1977, some youths chose the path of parliamentary democracy, some continued working mainly in rural areas through voluntary organizations, and others moved to journalism or regular jobs.
Santosh Bhartiya first became a journalist, then entered politics, and later returned to journalism. His book, V.P. Singh, Chandrashekhar, Sonia Gandhi aur Main, a heavy and compelling tome of around 500 pages, has been specially sent to me for review. Since the book deals with post-Janata Party Indian parliamentary politics—a period of extraordinary upheaval—and since I myself was around thirty years old during this time, I read it with much curiosity. I too was among those who tried to organize a movement in Maharashtra modeled after the Bihar Movement and was one of the founders of the Maharashtra Chhatra Yuva Sangharsh Vahini.
After reading the book in two sittings, I immediately sat down to write my reactions. Overall, it can rightly be called a documentary record of fifteen to twenty years of Indian parliamentary politics. To a large extent, it sheds light on the political character of two former Prime Ministers, V.P. Singh and Chandrashekhar. While it is not a complete biography, it serves as a political biography of their public lives.
Santosh Bhartiya began his journalism career with the 'Sunday' magazine, published in Hindi by the Ananda Bazar Group in Kolkata. Currently, he is the founding editor of the magazine 'Chauthi Duniya.' Because of his involvement in the JP movement, he got acquainted with Chandrashekhar Ji, and apparently became a trusted confidant of V.P. Singh as well. Due to this, he was able to contest from Farrukhabad Lok Sabha constituency in 1989 and became a member of the Lok Sabha.
From 1977 onwards, India's parliamentary politics has been a period of tumult and upheaval. As both a journalist and a parliamentary member, Santosh Ji has been a direct or indirect witness to many significant events. The narrative he has woven therefore carries credibility. For the current generation—those born after the 1980s, 1990s, and in the 21st century—who are now India's voters, such information is very useful. Of course, knowledge of our complete history is essential, but the history of post-independence parliamentary politics has special significance, since no matter what, India's parliamentary system is certain to continue.
To borrow from Santosh Ji's own words, "The memories related to Chandrashekhar, V.P. Singh, and Sonia Gandhi are not just memories; they are documents of the most turbulent periods in Indian political history. The tradition of writing the political history of India has not yet begun, but whenever it is written, this period will be its essential part. This is that part of history whose events remained hidden from public view, but are directly connected to Rajiv Gandhi, V.P. Singh, Chandrashekhar, and Sonia Gandhi, ending with Manmohan Singh becoming Prime Minister.”
However, as a reader, I feel it does not truly end there. Rather, it begins a period of crisis, the foundation for which was laid in 1977, culminating in today's politics centered on communalism. Why did the author stop short by only covering the past twenty-five to thirty years? This question bothers me.
It would have been better if Santosh Bhartiya had spent another twenty or twenty-five pages bringing the narrative up to the present situation, which would have made the work more timely and valuable. But perhaps he has his own reasons as an author to choose where to end the book.
In my view, the discord between V.P. Singh and Rajiv Gandhi was the turning point in V.P. Singh's political career. Arun Nehru, who was a key member of Rajiv’s inner circle, switched sides and became even more important in V.P. Singh’s team. Was V.P. Singh really unaware of all this? That surprises me. Arun Nehru was among those responsible for destabilizing the government before it even completed a year. I find it puzzling that V.P. Singh, a shrewd politician, could not see this.
When 'Jan Morcha' was announced on 2 October 1987—formed by V.P. Singh, Arun Nehru, Ramdhan, Arif Mohammad Khan, and Vidya Charan Shukla—it documented the weaknesses of Indian politics at the time (citing chapter 14, page 114). Comparing the formation of Jan Morcha in the 1980s to the Anna Hazare-led Lokpal movement and the birth of the Aam Aadmi Party in 2010–11, the essential difference is that V.P. Singh focused only on projecting his personal image, refusing to build a cadre, telling would-be cadre builders merely “create a wave, a cadre isn’t needed.” In contrast, AAP focused on both creating atmosphere and building cadre, which led to their electoral success. Those who didn’t fit the plan were quickly thrown out after AAP’s initial win, and now some are trying again under the name ‘Swaraj India.’
Santosh Ji has chronicled a particular era in India’s parliamentary journey, probably because he was himself an agent in those times and he has recorded what he saw and heard over nearly five hundred pages. His style keeps the reader engaged, with a curiosity akin to reading a mystery thriller, one that few will abandon unfinished.
Mahatma Gandhi, in his book Hind Swaraj (written 116 years ago), compared Parliament to a prostitute, and reading this book, that comparison is hard not to recall. On page 217, in chapter 21 titled “Disorganized Government, Disorganized Party,” there’s an anecdote: “V.P. Singh would often reverse important decisions. Once I got information that a minister had asked for a 15% commission in the name of the PM. When I told V.P. Singh, he asked for the chairman’s name, and then immediately rang the cabinet secretary to order a CBI inquiry against the officer for spreading rumors. I was shocked and upset. I protested that if this happens, no one will ever report corruption. After 45 minutes, V.P. Singh called me back and told me to go see the cabinet secretary. The secretary, smiling, said he hadn’t ordered any inquiry because he knew the PM changed his mind frequently; sure enough, after 40 minutes V.P. Singh called, asking him to do as Santosh said. The secretary remarked, ‘the minister’s name is right, but we can’t do anything.’” The same corruption that widened the rift between V.P. Singh and Rajiv Gandhi was present in V.P. Singh's own government too—reinforcing the adage: “In the bathhouse, no one has clothes on.”
Rajiv Gandhi, V.P. Singh, and even Narasimha Rao personally had “Mr. Clean” images, yet the system persisted. Narasimha Rao (as per his personal staff’s account after his PM term) even had to sell his house to pay lawyers’ fees, living in a government bungalow only as long as he remained alive, because of ongoing court cases.
Coalition governments have their constraints. For instance, as industries minister, George Fernandes, during the Janata Party government, expelled Pepsi and Coca-Cola from India. But as foreign minister in I.K. Gujral’s government, due to the Akali Dal’s demands (and Sikh lobbying from the US/Canada), Gujral was pressured to let PepsiCo return to India—hence, the re-entry of soft drinks. Indian industrialists always exert pressure on whichever party is in power, with their own staff based in Delhi to liaise with ministries, paying commissions as bribes to facilitate company work.
When it comes to Dhirubhai Ambani, who began by importing synthetic yarn after returning from Aden, he established Reliance Industries on the old Mumbai–Pune road. The secret of his meteoric rise, overtaking all other Indian industrial houses, lies in the fact that whatever the government, the Ambani group always ensured their work got done—paying huge sums to ruling parties under the guise of donations, with help from influential figures like Pranab Mukherjee. This trend has continued, with today’s government openly facilitating Gautam Adani’s rise from a small cloth trader in Ahmedabad in the 1980s to India’s biggest tycoon—a subject for another book. Similarly, an Australian journalist wrote an extensively researched book called Polyester King on the Ambani group.
As finance minister, V.P. Singh began tightening the noose on Ambani, leading to his ouster as industry minister and his expulsion from Congress by Rajiv Gandhi. This triggered V.P. Singh’s rebellion, and with a bit of luck, he became PM, albeit for only eleven months. His most lasting legacy is implementing the Mandal Commission’s recommendations for backward caste reservations—a historic decision. He also allowed Bihar’s CM, Lalu Prasad Yadav, to arrest Advani during the Rath Yatra, an opportunity sought but not granted to UP CM Mulayam Singh Yadav. This credit went to Lalu, resulting in a rift between Mulayam and V.P. Singh.
V.P. Singh was perhaps the first former PM to sit in dharna with farmers after leaving office, despite his health issues, and as PM, he assigned Sharad Joshi, a farmers’ leader from Maharashtra, to devise a fair pricing system for crops, but progress was limited; even today, farmers struggle for fair prices.
After stepping down as PM, V.P. Singh fasted in Mumbai, refusing water, which damaged his kidneys and ultimately caused his death. He kept up his activism, alternating between dialysis and protest.
Santosh Bhartiya had a close association with Chandrashekhar as well, about whom he’s written extensively. Like me, Chandrashekhar saw the Kashmir problem in a certain way, which becomes clear in the book. Santosh has illuminated Congress’s role in creating the current Kashmir mess since independence, implicating it in playing the communal card for power—not just on Kashmir, but on the Babri Masjid–Ram Janmabhoomi issue, and in the Shah Bano case, where the slogan “The issue is not law, but faith” (used by Muslims in the Shah Bano case) was picked up by the RSS and then used in the temple-mosque dispute, ultimately pressuring the judiciary to rule in favor of temple construction and burying the criminal case related to the Babri demolition.
I can’t resist mentioning this: After assuming office, Chandrashekhar had to travel directly to the SAARC conference in Male. There, after Nawaz Sharif’s inaugural address, both he and Sharif approached each other, and Chandrashekhar, in a spirit of camaraderie, told Sharif, “You are very mischievous.” To which Sharif replied: “Just give us Kashmir.” Chandrashekhar quickly answered: “Fine—but on one condition: take India’s 150–200 million Muslims with you. We do not have enough police and army to keep them safe, and anyway, India is paying a huge price to keep Kashmir. But what else can we do? We have to act for the safety of Indian Muslims.” This silenced Sharif.
I made the same point in Nagpur in September 2005, while presiding over a meeting that brought together Kashmiri Pandit leaders and Hurriyat Conference members, who were meeting face-to-face for the first time. I told them: “If Kashmir wants independence, I don’t object. If Kashmir wants to join Pakistan, I don’t object. But I worry about the security of Muslims in India, whose population is 20 times greater than that of Kashmir, second only to a few Muslim-majority countries in the world. My own best years, ever since the 1989 Bhagalpur riots, have gone into protecting Indian Muslims from communal violence. Please, whatever decision you consider for Kashmir, keep India’s Muslims in mind.”
Hurriyat representatives continued to call me about Kashmir, and I've kept up annual visits except in 2020 due to COVID. Only from Santosh Bhartiya’s book did I learn that Chandrashekhar shared this view—which pleased me. However, in his conversation with Santosh Ji, Chandrashekhar seems to underestimate the RSS, which surprises me. Was this diplomatic, or heartfelt? It’s strange that despite witnessing Gandhi’s assassination, recurring riots, and the Babri dispute, even up to his lifetime, Chandrashekhar couldn’t assess the RSS’s true nature—or was he simply being diplomatic? Whatever the reason, this miscalculation may cost the Indian subcontinent dearly for generations.
Although Chandrashekhar was a former socialist, which I appreciated, V.P. Singh (despite being a Congressman) behaved like a true socialist throughout his career. Still, there’s a difference between V.P. Singh in power and V.P. Singh out of power, as Santosh’s book shows.
The final part, about Sonia Gandhi, reveals new insights—such as the distance between Amitabh Bachchan and the Gandhi family, and the efforts of two former PMs, V.P. Singh and Chandrashekhar, to have Sonia become PM (which she declined due to her children, instead making Manmohan Singh PM). This was commendable from a secular perspective, but both V.P. Singh and Chandrashekhar did at times ally with communal forces, and, most importantly, the 1989 Bhagalpur riots (under Rajiv Gandhi), the immediate succession of three PMs (Rajiv Gandhi, V.P. Singh, Chandrashekhar), and, three years later, the Babri Masjid demolition, leading to intense riots in Mumbai and elsewhere, and finally, the 2002 Gujarat pogrom, executed with clear state complicity—these all reveal their weakness in confronting communal politics.
And despite his responsibility for the Gujarat violence, then-CM Narendra Modi not only survived, but is now, eleven years at the helm, ruling India with a brazen disregard, having grown from a 44-inch to a 56-inch chest (alluding to popular campaign rhetoric).
Significantly, Chandrashekhar repeatedly underestimated the RSS in his talks with Santosh Bhartiya—which I find amazing. Despite Gandhi's assassination, recurring riots, and the Babri dispute occurring in his own lifetime, was this a true assessment failure or mere diplomacy? This error could prove highly damaging for generations across South Asia.
Dr. Suresh Khairnar,
24 July, 2025, Nagpur.
