By Karan Thapar

It may be a common place thought but it's worthy of repetition. The politics of a country is defined by the character of its politicians. Which is why the opposite is also true : stories about politicians can reveal interesting insights into the political system they operate. And in case you haven't guessed, this is my excuse for telling you three little stories this sunday morning!

The first concerns Harold Macmillan and the British election of 1959.  At the time Super Mac, as he was called, was coasting to an easy victory.  In fact his slogan was the cheeky if accurate aphorism ‘You’ve never had it so good’.  The country believed him.  Which perhaps explains why his wife behaved as she did.  She dozed off to sleep at the last Conservative Party political rally.  Harold was speaking whilst Dorothy, for that was her name, was snoring.

“Oy” shouted a man from the audience.  “Does His Bigness know that the Missus has dropped off?”

The remark brought the house down leaving Harold somewhat abashed.  But Dorothy, who had been roused from her slumber, wasn’t the least bit flustered.

“My father is a politician, my brother is a politician, my husband is a politician and so are my son and son-in-law.  I’ve heard what they have to say and I know it well.  So, if you’ll forgive me, I prefer to carry on sleeping.”

And she did but not before she had won the hearts of the audience.  Harold, of course, won the election.

The second story is about two of our own politicians.  It was told to me at a recent dinner but, alas, I can’t reveal by whom.  However, its authenticity seems unimpeachable.

In 1984, after the assassination of Indira Gandhi, the shaken government struggled to arrange a suitable but secure funeral.  Heads of state and government from all over were to attend and the arrangements had to be meticulous.  The foreign office had reserved front row seats for each of them.  But by the time Mrs. Thatcher and Princess Anne, who were representing the British Government and the British Queen, arrived the row was full.  Congress MPs, eager to be as close to the action as possible, had clambered over the back rows to occupy whatever empty places there were at the front.  And so the two ladies remained standing whilst their anxious foreign office escort thought furiously about what to do next.

“It was a dreadful moment” my informant confided.  “The two ladies were definitely not happy but none of the wretched MPs would budge.  They simply continued to sit there. Then, suddenly, a voice from in front of us rang out.  ‘Tell me yaar’ it said, ‘which of the two is more ugly?’ And prompt came the reply : ‘They both look like the backside of a DTC bus!’.”

My final story comes from further afield.  In fact, all the way from America and it concerns the legendary FDR.  It was told to me by Devendra Dwivedi, a politician of the old school with a fund of good-natured illuminating anecdotes.  I need hardly add that Mr. Dwivedi is quite unlike the two MPs referred to above.

One day at a meeting with a group of dissident senators, Roosevelt was berated for America’s policy of support for an assortment of distasteful dictators.  Batista of Cuba, more than any other, was the prime subject of concern.

“Mr. President”, an over-eager senator remonstrated.  “He’s a son of a bitch.”

“I’m well aware of that” the unflappable President replied. F.D.R. was known for his sang-froid. But this was also a test of his political credentials if not his integrity.  “But you know what? Batista is my son of a bitch.  He’s not Stalin’s son of a bitch.”

American politics has always reflected the same cold, hard, self-calculating logic.  Reagan and Bush may seem like excellent examples but I would argue that Carter and Clinton were no less, even if they found fine words to disguise it.  Similarly, the Macmillan story captures a real truth about Britain.  The British value humour.   There’s no lapse so terrible a good joke cannot atone for it.  And, finally, though regrettably, we in India are perfectly exemplified by the two MPs.  I often grab seats meant for other people without any sense of remorse or shame.  In fact I ignore the dirty looks I get.  Our motto seems to be : take what you can before someone else does.  And we do!