‘Kejriwal is a destroyer, not a builder’

The poor 2014 Lok Sabha results demoralised a lot of volunteers. While, to them, we’d enthusiastically say that as first-time contenders we had done marvellously, internally we remained glum, keenly aware that this was a major setback.

I remember, in the first NE meeting after the results, speaker after speaker congratulated the party for securing votes and a handful of seats even though it was our first election. Arvind listened, sullen and angry, while staring at his mobile phone. After some time, he exploded: ‘I have not come here to talk like a loser. Nor do I plan to be happy with what we have achieved. Either we win, or we stop the party and go back home.’ Everyone was taken aback at this outburst. While I could appreciate his indomitable spirit, I could also see a kind of coldness in Arvind’s eyes that I hadn’t witnessed earlier.

Sanjubhai and Pankaj Gupta tried insisting that we follow demarcated procedures in the future to improve our performance. Arvind grew even angrier. He got up and shouted, ‘Is the party made for procedures or are procedures made for a party?’ His abhorrence for set processes was well known. Structures and systems were anathema to the ‘anarchist’ in him. He was a destroyer, not a builder.

We realised that we had miscalculated the timing of our resignation from the Delhi government. We had incorrectly assumed that the lieutenant governor would call for re-elections in Delhi within a few months. However, the lieutenant governor did no such thing and delayed elections. AAP remained out of power and had no platform to demonstrate its competence in matters of governance. The BJP, meanwhile, had a wide open berth, and displayed a winning streak across Delhi and beyond. There were now rumours that the BJP was trying to form the Delhi state government by luring some of the Congress MLAs who had won the 2013 elections. Things seemed to be slipping away.

This was when, my hero, Arvind, began to truly falter. His impatience to change the nation for the better now turned into a desperation for power, no matter what happened to be at stake—principles, people, or PAC and NE members. Arvind became terse and ruthless.

He had long discussions with his small band of supporters—Manish Sisodia, Sanjay Singh, journalist-turned-politician Ashutosh and Ashish Talwar—and they decided that AAP ought to get into an alliance with the Congress, and stake claim to form the government again. I got a call late at night from Delhi confirming this. I argued, ‘Impossible. As IAC, and now AAP, we have been against the Congress. Arvind had targeted the party in the Delhi elections; he had challenged and defeated Sheila Dixit. When we allowed the Congress to lend outside support to our government, we burnt our fingers. There must be some mistake in the news you relay.’ But no . . . there was no mistake.

I called almost all the PAC members, requesting them to stop this preposterous move. A PAC meeting was called the next day, and five of the nine members voted against forming a government with the Congress. But nothing was going to stop Arvind. He said, ‘The PAC is an advisory body while I am the convenor of the party. I have listened to your advice, but the final decision rests with me. I am going ahead with the process of forming a government with the Congress.’ The PAC was shocked. How could Arvind rule against the majority opinion of the highest decision-making body of AAP? Before our eyes, a democratic party was transforming into a dictatorial one.

The PAC members finally coerced Arvind into considering the opinion of the NE members. A conference call was made, and the NE members were told to convey their views by the next morning. After the conference call was done, Arvind made individual calls to every NE member, trying to influence him or her, and get each to sign off against his point of view.

Arvind insisted when he spoke to me, ‘Mayank, if we do not do anything, the BJP will form the government in Delhi, and then we will be thrown out of equation.’

I protested, ‘Arvind, our entire movement and party has been built on the anti-corruption plank, and the Congress is probably the most corrupt party in the country. Forming a government with them will be unpalatable to all our volunteers. Personally, I may not be able to continue as part of the party if we choose to go with the Congress.’

Arvind seemed disappointed with my response and said, ‘Okay, think about it.’ Then, suddenly, he added emotionally, ‘Everything will get over, we will be finished, and we’d have killed the hopes and aspiration of millions of people. . . simply because some of us choose to remain stubborn.’

Since I do not like being emotionally blackmailed or bullied, I said, ‘Arvind, if we go with the Congress and compromise on all our principles, we’d have already have killed the hopes and aspirations of people, and their desire to see alternative politics at play. It is better to stay in the wilderness and fight for the truth rather than destroy everything that we stand for.’

In a temper, Arvind disconnected. It was either his way or the highway.

This was the biggest impasse between Arvind and me. Arvind was concerned about the party, while I was concerned about the nation. He wanted AAP to survive, and I wanted honest politics to survive.

Despite Arvind’s personal appeal to everyone, the majority of the NE members opposed his decision to form an alliance with the Congress. Arvind ignored the democratic will of the majority. He sent a letter to the lieutenant governor, asking him not to dissolve the assembly.

That’s when there was a sudden twist in the narrative. The Congress, getting wind of our plans, rejected AAP’s overtures. We were saved from the repercussions of AAP forming the government with the Congress.

Recently, when I had gone to meet Prashant Bhushan, he confessed to me that he blamed himself for the deterioration of the party. During an argument regarding the ongoing plans to seek the Congress’ support, Arvind told Prashant that, for him, only the end mattered, not the means. Prashant said, ‘Even then I had understood Arvind’s desire for power, but I hoped that he would change. I should have done something to stop him then.’

In the meantime, the BJP persisted with its attempts at forming a government in Delhi. Rumours emerged that it was now trying to poach some of the Congress’ Muslim MLAs—Mateen Ahmed, Asif Mohammed Khan and Hasan Ahmed. Arvind grew even more worried on witnessing these manoeuvrings. He also grew increasingly obsessed with stopping the BJP, no matter the price. Posters were made anonymously and plastered across the locality where the Congress MLAs lived—these posters referred to the MLAs as ‘traitors of the community’ and called for protests outside their residences.

The Delhi police swung into action, removed the prints, registered a case under sections of the IPC for promoting enmity between two groups and for the defacement of property, and arrested Dilip Pandey, AAP’s Delhi unit secretary, along with a few AAP volunteers. Arvind went on the defensive, claiming that the BJP was framing his party after failing to form the Delhi government. He further suggested that someone named Amanatullah Khan, an erstwhile member of the BSP, had put up the posters and had even confessed to it, but the police seemed to wish to target AAP volunteers. What exactly was going on? It wasn’t hard to join the dots when, soon after, Amanatullah Khan was given an AAP ticket and was designated in-charge of the Okhla constituency. He was to play a much larger role in the future. Like Naveen Jaihind, he’d become Arvind’s go-to man.

Excerpts have been taken with permission from Simon & Schuster; Pages 304; ₹350