THE NATION NEEDS DOERS, NOT MERE ORATORS

THE NATION NEEDS DOERS, NOT MERE ORATORS

1-MAY-ENG 1

RAJIV NAYAN AGRAWAL

BHABHUA-------------------------Today, in our country, good leaders are remembered only on their birth anniversaries; yet, there is no politician in the nation today who truly walks in their footsteps or emulates their deeds. On June 9, 1964, a slender man, standing just 5 feet 2 inches tall, became the Prime Minister of India; on January 11, 1966, he met a mysterious end in Tashkent. His total tenure spanned approximately 19 months. Yet, the weight of these 19 months outweighs the collective impact of the current government and several of its predecessors. The very man whom the foreign press dubbed an "unlikely successor" was the one who stood up to Pakistan, rebuffed American pressure, accorded dignity to farmers, bolstered the morale of the armed forces, and steered the nation firmly onto the path of self-reliance. His name was Lal Bahadur Shastri—a man of small stature, but whose deeds were grander than the Himalayas. Today, the glare of the camera is often mistaken for leadership; rhetoric is equated with policy, and slogans with tangible achievements. In such times, merely invoking Shastriji's name serves as a stinging rebuke to the politics practiced by many today. For Shastriji did not transform political power into a personal brand; instead, he dedicated it entirely to the service of the nation. Upon assuming the office of Prime Minister, he did not commission statues of himself, nor did he plaster his face on every wall or name every government scheme after himself. He belonged to that rare breed of leaders who preferred to let their work speak for itself. While serving as the Railway Minister, following a train accident in Ariyalur in 1956, he promptly tendered his resignation. Unlike today's politicians, he did not engage in the cynical game of ordering inquiries, issuing hollow statements, shifting the blame onto the opposition, or manipulating the media narrative. Shastriji accepted moral responsibility and stepped down. Just imagine: a resignation tendered over a single train accident.

Today, however—whether a bridge collapses, trains collide, exam papers leak, or unemployed citizens are beaten on the streets—people cling to their seats of power with the tenacity of superglue. When he became Prime Minister, the nation was grappling with a severe food crisis, and the United States was exerting pressure by supplying wheat under the PL-480 program; yet, Shastriji declared: "We may go hungry, but we will never bow down." There was a time when he himself observed a fast and appealed to the nation—an appeal the public duly heeded. Today, however, he first makes the public pay more for gas, and then, from an air-conditioned stage, delivers speeches on the virtues of sacrifice. This is the fundamental difference between character and mere acting. Shastriji coined the slogan "Jai Jawan, Jai Kisan" (Hail the Soldier, Hail the Farmer); this was not merely a catchy rhyme for an election platform, but a national philosophy. During the 1965 war, he gave the armed forces unbridled moral support; Ayub Khan of Pakistan—who had initially dismissed him as a "small man"—was later compelled to acknowledge that very man's resolve and bow before it. On the other hand, for the farmers, he established the FCI, laid the foundation for a national seed infrastructure and the Green Revolution, and expanded the Amul model through the NDDB to boost dairy development. Today, while farmers sit on the streets—dying there for months on end—the government remains preoccupied with branding them as "anti-nationals." Had Shastriji been here, he would have engaged in dialogue first and introduced legislation only thereafter. He did not even own a personal car. Yielding to his family's insistence, he took out a loan of ₹12,000 to purchase a Fiat; at the time of his death, the debt remained outstanding—a loan his wife subsequently repaid using her pension. Just make a comparison: today, a ward-level politician is a millionaire, a district-level leader is an industrialist, and those at the very top seem like walking, talking advertising empires. He was a Prime Minister who died in debt, yet became immortal through his integrity.

When his son received a job promotion, he had it rescinded. When a government car was used for personal errands, he meticulously calculated the mileage and deposited the corresponding amount into the treasury. Today, those who deliver sermons on "dynastic politics" are themselves surrounded by relatives, friends, favorites, and corporate courtiers. They offer sermons to the public, while extending patronage to their own kin. It is the same old ploy—only the packaging is new. Shastriji used to wear a patched *kurta* (tunic) underneath his coat. He would say that one should feel shame only when a farmer is forced to sleep naked; does anyone feel such shame today? Suits worth lakhs, publicity campaigns worth crores—and the public is expected to "download" their sense of nationalism via data packs.

They dangled the dream of doubling farmers' incomes, yet ended up quadrupling their production costs. They offered apps to the unemployed, speeches to the laborers, and scams to the students during their examinations. He passed away in Tashkent on January 11, 1966; the official cause of death was cited as a heart attack. His family, however, raised questions regarding the circumstances. No post-mortem was conducted, and the files remained sealed for years. Governments changed, political regimes shifted, yet the lock on the truth remains firmly in place to this very day. Be it the Congress or the BJP, both have— They kept their distance, for an honest examination of history strips away many masks—and since power holds masks very dear, who would willingly initiate such an inquiry? Today, while some invoke Shastriji's name, they fear his very spirit. For if the 'Shastri Model' were to be implemented, half of our politicians would faint the moment they had to declare their assets; a quarter would be forced to resign; and the rest would be left wandering around, begging for jobs in the publicity department. Shastriji's life demonstrates that a nation is governed not by speeches, but by institutions; not by slogans, but by policy; and not by photographs, but by decisions. The greatest threat facing Narendra Bhai and the BJP comes not from the opposition, but from the memory of leaders like Shastriji. For if the public were to begin making comparisons, they would inevitably ask: Who was the truly great leader—the man who, in a mere 19 months, successfully managed a war, oversaw agriculture, built institutions, and lived a life of profound simplicity; or the man who, despite holding power for years, continues to cast the blame for every failure upon the past 70 years? Lal Bahadur Shastriji proves that true stature lies not in physical height, but in the strength of one's spine; not in the seat of power, but in the integrity of one's character. A legacy is forged not through posters, but through sacrifice. Today, the nation once again requires not eloquent orators, but men of action like Shastriji—for as for the posters, they inevitably peel away once soaked by the rain.