Atishi and the empty chair of sovereignty

Mythical symbolism meets modern politics as Delhi’s new Chief Minister invokes the Ramayana to address Arvind Kejriwal’s absence.

Delhi Chief Minister Atishi takes charge at the Delhi Secretariat, in New Delhi on September 23. By her words, Atishi has managed to suffuse the empty chair with meanings: it is no ordinary chair of an absent Chief Minister, but a chair-in-waiting that will remind the people of its occupier. | Photo Credit: Rahul Singh/ANI

Indian politics always manages to spring interesting surprises. The latest point of debate is around the current Delhi Chief Minister Atishi’s decision to have her predecessor and Aam Aadmi Party chief Arvind Kejriwal’s chair empty beside her own.

In a statement, Atishi evoked the “agony” of Bharat from the mythical story of the Ramayana, when Ram was sentenced by his father to 14 years of exile at the behest of his stepmother (and Bharat’s mother), Kaikeyi. Atishi said the way Bharat ruled in Ram’s absence by keeping his elder brother’s slippers on the throne, she would also rule Delhi for the coming four months. She further said Kejriwal had set an example of dignity and ethics in Indian politics and hoped the people of Delhi would retain their faith in the former Chief Minister and vote him back to power. Until then, she said, the empty chair will remain in the house and wait for Kejriwal’s return.

The point about Bharat keeping Ram’s slippers on the throne in his absence as a signifier of sovereignty was possible in an age when the material possessions of a person of royal lineage were held sacred. It was a clever ploy to legitimise his rule before the people after Ram was unjustifiably and unceremoniously banished from the kingdom. Bharat invented a forked idea of sovereignty where sentimentality and pragmatism ruled side-by-side. While the slippers took care of the sentimental aspect, Bharat ruled for all practical purposes.

By establishing the myth that Ram’s slippers ruled by proxy, Bharat crafted a symbolism of political power where one could rule in the name of another. In fact, Bharat’s ingenuity can be considered a mythical antecedent to the modern idea of the titular head in the British Constitution, where the Prime Minister as the head of government rules in the name of the monarch who is the symbolic head of state.

Scoring a political point

Atishi explained her act using Bharat’s example to make a political point. She believes Kejriwal is unjustly paying a political price for his moral credentials. The fact that she has to suddenly hold the Chief Minister’s chair in his absence occurs to her as an unfair accident of power. Atishi feels she is filling someone’s shoes by ruling over Delhi, similar to the sentiments shown by Bharat as king of Ayodhya.

By her words, Atishi has managed to suffuse the empty chair with meanings. It is no ordinary chair of an absent Chief Minister, but a chair-in-waiting that will remind the people of its occupier. The chair breathes with great expectations.

Atishi’s move, like Bharat’s, is political. But modern politics makes it more complicated in her case. She is competing for political legitimacy on behalf of her leader and her party against other contenders for power. By drawing public attention to the “absent chair”, she has turned her predicament into an advantage. By her play on symbolism and references to legendary characters that carry sacred meanings in India’s cultural history, she has made it difficult for her political opponents to attack her political language.

In fact, Atishi has achieved Bharat’s success in more difficult times, where she has managed to keep the sentimental aspect of power securely alive, and independent of her pragmatic motives. This enigmatic double seat of power, one occupied and the other hauntingly empty, will seek to impress upon the people of Delhi.

Pandora’s box of interpretations

Atishi’s statement has opened up a Pandora’s box of interpretations. Lawyer and activist Prashant Bhushan reacted on X: “She might as well keep Kejriwal’s slippers on the CM’s chair & say that the slippers are running the government!” Bhushan’s snide remark is unthoughtful. To begin with, it is more meaningful (and fair) to interpret what someone has said, without making insinuations about what the person has not said.

Atishi invoked Ram’s slippers as a symbol of sovereign power in a mythical era, but as a modern democrat, she did not indulge in literalism. The politics of language can often draw its resources from historical and cultural pasts. It can appear to be anachronistic. But it may not pose a danger to the norms of democracy or showcase regressive politics if its sensibility and purpose are firmly rooted in challenging authoritarian power. On the political chessboard, one is often strategically compelled to emulate the opponent’s moves.

Evoking the empty chair is enough for Atishi. She is not breaking any constitutional rules by reinventing a symbolism from mythography that does not infringe upon the nature of her power and political responsibilities as Chief Minister. There is nothing unsecular in the symbolic representation that she has offered of the empty chair. Although one may be tempted to imagine a Buddhist idea of sovereign power represented in the form of emptiness, an absence, but an emptiness full of meaning.

The writer is author of Nehru and the Spirit of India.