From warmth to wounds: The erosion of mutual respect in Indian politics

The politics of the past operated within an unwritten code of restraint. Leaders disagreed without delegitimizing each other. The oath-taking ceremony, such as the one depicted in 1991, was not merely ritualistic; it was a sacred acknowledgment that power is transient, but respect must be permanent. Politics today thrives on polarization-religious, caste-based, regional. Leaders no longer merely represent constituencies; they represent warring identities. Social and digital media amplify this divide, rewarding outrage over dialogue

The black-and-white photograph of P V Narasimha Rao, moments before taking oath as India’s Prime Minister on June 21, 1991, being greeted warmly by his predecessor V P Singh, is more than just a slice of history. It is a portrait of an era when political adversaries were capable of genuine warmth, when the transition of power was marked not merely by constitutional formality but also by a dignified civility, rooted in respect for both the office and the individual.

The smiles, the clasp of hands, the body language—all of it communicates a silent chemistry: “We may differ in ideology, but we are bound by the larger duty of nationhood.”

Fast forward to the present, and the scene looks vastly different. Political discourse today is often drenched in suspicion, hostility, and outright animosity. Rivals are rarely seen as fellow travelers with differing ideas; rather, they are demonized as enemies. The political battlefield has turned into a zero-sum game—where winning at any cost is the only creed, and annihilating the opponent is often more important than uplifting the nation.

Why was it different then?

First and foremost, the leaders anchored in larger purpose. Stalwarts like Atal Bihari Vajpayee, Narasimha Rao, and V P Singh were deeply conscious of history and the responsibilities of leadership. They knew that politics was a means to serve, not merely to dominate. Their personal ambitions, while real, were tempered by respect for institutions and for each other.

Ideological differences sans personal hatred:

They could oppose fiercely inside Parliament, yet shared camaraderie outside it. Vajpayee’s famed ability to praise his opponents, even from across the aisle, was not a political gimmick—it was an extension of his belief in the dignity of democratic debate.

A culture of restraint:

The politics of the past operated within an unwritten code of restraint. Leaders disagreed without delegitimizing each other. The oath-taking ceremony, such as the one depicted in 1991, was not merely ritualistic; it was a sacred acknowledgment that power is transient, but respect must be permanent.

Why is so much hatred flowing now?

1. The rise of identity politics and media amplification: Politics today thrives on polarization—religious, caste-based, regional. Leaders no longer merely represent constituencies; they represent warring identities. Social and digital media amplify this divide, rewarding outrage over dialogue.

2. Hyper-competitive electoral arena: With elections fought almost every year in one part of the country or other, the political class is in perpetual campaign mode. The hunger for victory breeds a climate where vilification is easier than persuasion.

3. Decline of statesmanship: The towering personalities of earlier decades had literary depth, patience, and a sense of history. Today, politics rewards aggression, sound bites, and the ability to create viral moments rather than build consensus.

4. Erosion of institutional trust: Institutions once acted as buffers between parties—be it Parliament, judiciary, or media. As their credibility erodes, so too does the space for healthy disagreement.

What needs to be done?

1. Rebuilding the culture of dialogue: Political parties must re-learn to converse across ideological divides. Institutionalised forums for dialogue among leaders—both formal and informal—can restore a sense of shared purpose.

2. Role of media and civil society: Instead of amplifying venom, the media must spotlight moments of civility and constructive debate. Civil society must demand accountability not only in governance but also in the tone of political discourse.

3. Ethics in politics: Introducing codes of conduct for election camp aigns and parlia mentary behavior, with enforceable consequ ences, can curb the trend of abusive rhetoric.

4. Role models in leadership: Just as the image of Rao and Singh reminds us of dignity in political competition, contemporary leaders must consciously project civility. A gesture of respect—shaking hands, sharing words of goodwill—may appear symbolic, but it reshapes the psyche of the political culture.

Revisiting the ‘Spirit of 1991’: The photograph of Rao and Singh is not merely nostalgia—it is a mirror. It tells us that politics can be passionate without being poisonous, competitive without being cruel. That moment of warmth between two rivals stands in stark contrast to today’s venomous political climate. If leaders of the past could look beyond their differences to embrace each other with dignity, there is no reason why leaders of today cannot. The real challenge is not in winning elections—it is winning back the lost culture of mutual respect.

(The writer is a former OSD to former Union Civil Aviation Minister)