Commentary/Dilip D'Souza

Wheels Within Wheels Within Hunger Strikes

As far as I can tell, there have been three times that Mohan Rawale has made the news. The first was in late 1992, during a vote in Parliament on a motion of no-confidence in Narasimha Rao's Congress government. The motion was sponsored by the BJP. As a MP from the Shiv Sena -- in the Opposition at the time, besides claiming an ideological communion with the BJP -- Rawale was expected to vote against Rao.

By the numbers -- the Congress was in a minority then -- the government was expected to fall. Of course, that was only by the numbers.

Inexplicably, Rawale was absent when it came time to vote. Along with other now notorious manipulations, his mysterious absence helped Rao to squeak through the vote, leaving his administration intact. But it set all hell loose -- or so it seemed -- for Rawale at home in Bombay. There, his party supremo railed against him, saying he would be "expelled" from the party.

A few weeks later, when everything died down and all of us had reconciled ourselves to years more of Rao and his government, only some noticed that Rawale was still in the Shiv Sena, still a MP. Today, Rao is no longer prime minister, but Rawale remains very much in the Sena. He even won a second term to the Lok Sabha last May.

So what was that whole episode in 1992 all about? Certainly, Rawale had to endure abuse in public from the man whose whims dictate his political existence, but abuse need be no more that just so much water off a duck's back. What was the real fallout of his antics? Rao survived. What's more, far from being expelled, Rawale is still in his party.

The inescapable conclusion? Things were not quite what they seemed back in 1992. Something other than Rawale's proferred reason -- he was ill, he claimed -- something murkier, I suspect, accounted for his absence. Some quiet understanding between political bosses, for which a spell of public abuse for a Mohan Rawale was a small price to pay, a small pretence to keep up for a few days.

The third time Rawale made the news was last week. He staged a hunger strike outside Agripada police station in Bombay, protesting the re-arrest of the gangster who put Dagdi Chawl on the map, Arun Gawli.

Now Gawli was released on bail last December, after several years in jail. Two months later, the police decided to arrest him once more under the National Security Act. When they tried to do so, about 80 women from the chawl obstructed the arrest. Rawale tells us that the additional commissioner of police, K Subramanyam, asked him to "mediate" and persuade Gawli to "surrender", on the understanding that he would be turned loose right away. "The additional commissioner assured me that he would release Gawli on bail within half an hour," Rawale said. Since that didn't happen, Rawale went off food. "I was betrayed by the police," he complained.

That"s the story of Rawale's latest few minutes of fame. Or so it seems. Again, what's really going on here? Could there be a little more to this episode as well than meets the eye? Let's see.

After his release, Gawli set up a party, the Akhil Bharatiya Sena, that fielded a few dozen candidates for the February 23 municipal elections in the city. Several of these candidates were supposed to be Shiv Sena "rebels", bitter men who were not given tickets by Bal Thackeray. For over two weeks during the campaign, Sena leaders muttered complaints that ABS activists were "threatening" Sena candidates.

Given the Sena's own history of threats and violence, the complaint was somewhat ironic, but there it was. Bal Thackeray himself promised retaliation against Gawli if the "threats" continued.

What must have been more relevant than threats to the Shiv Sena's thinking was that the ABS was slicing into Sena support in areas like Parel, Lalbaug and Byculla in central Bombay. That is, Gawli's efforts were eroding the chances of Sena candidates in some of its strongest bastions. What could be done about this?

The answer must have suggested itself loudly: why not have Gawli arrested? That's what happened on February 19. The charge? "Providing shelter to gangsters" in his home. Fine, but irrelevant again -- because if that was really an offence, dozens of political figures across the city, the state and the country would be in jail. Still, that was why Gawli was arrested. Or so it seemed.

But with the elections just days away, there was an problem. Arresting Gawli might be seen as a purely political move to checkmate his electoral ambitions and brighten the fortunes of the Sena. It had to be disguised. How? This is where Mohan Rawale"s name must have come up.

As the MP for that very area of Bombay, Rawale could be despatched to make a show of "mediating" between the police and Gawli's supporters. He could "persuade" Gawli to turn himself in, claiming that the police would quickly release him on bail. And when -- surprise, surprise -- the police showed no sign of releasing Gawli, Rawale could accuse the police of "betraying" him. He could even go on a hunger strike -- with only two days left for the elections, that would hardly be a huge sacrifice.

Meanwhile, Gawli's supporters and the rest of us would watch these manoeuvres and conclude that the police had suddenly decided to arrest Gawli, that the arrest had nothing to do with the elections. Or indeed, with the Shiv Sena. After all, hadn't their senior party MP acted on Gawli's behalf? Hadn't he refused food to protest what was happening to Gawli?

Except for two minor details tucked away in the news reports about his arrest, details that hinted at the truth in the Dagdi Chawl goings-on. Police sources "revealed" that Gawli's arrest was really "a preventive measure in view of the civic elections." And a "senior police official" told the press that the "police took the decision to detain [Gawli] on Wednesday at the instance of Mr Thackeray."

That is, Thackeray had decided that a free Gawli was a definite threat to Sena prospects in the elections and so ordered his arrest.

So much for "mediation", for "persuasion", for "hunger strikes." All that's missing here is the abuse directed at Rawale. I suspect that will come soon. That final piece of the puzzle will be for the benefit of those who still believe the law and politics both proceed in straight lines.

Like this one: Gawli is a gangster who was threatening the Sena, so he was arrested. If you think that's the way things happened, you probably are wondering why a Sena leader is actually agitating for his release. Heap abuse on the man, that will teach him a lesson. The same lesson, in fact, that he learned in 1992.

But don't actually expel Rawale from the party. For in truth, he's doing his job very well indeed. In fact, this hunger strike might just be the finest role he has ever played for his party, his greatest achievement.

Except that Rawale himself probably has a different idea of that. There was the time in 1992 when, he told a reporter last April: "I ran into the well of the [Lok Sabha] screaming. I managed to stop the proceedings for a full 16 minutes." He went on: "That, I think, was my greatest achievement."

And that -- you thought I had forgotten -- was the second time Mohan Rawale made the news. When next? What next?

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