Karnataka politics is getting crasser by the day. Gone are the days when disagreements were expressed in dignified words and debates were conducted in sentences loaded with wit and wisdom instead of snarls.

Once upon a time, Kannadigas prided themselves on their ‘cultured’ civility. Now, if you listened to our politicians or even the common man, for that matter, you’d think we’re all ‘crass-cultured.’

This past week alone, the Chief Minister, in his booming baritone, mocked his opponents with petty analogies, while his Deputy thundered at his peers like a schoolyard bully.

The younger crop of leaders, not wanting to be left behind, have gone into full street-brawl mode, especially after Congress MLA Pradeep Eshwar triggered the war of words by commenting on former BJP MP Prathap Simha’s mother. Not one to take it lying down, Prathap Simha returned the favour two-fold.

They called each other ‘magane’ and ‘guru’ in tones that would make even rowdies blush, followed by insults aimed at each other’s parents.

Then, inevitably, it got worse. One leader mocked another’s complexion, turning the spat racist. The other turned it casteist and finally one turned into a zoologist by calling the other a ‘mullhandi,’ a porcupine.

This decay in political discourse didn’t happen overnight. It began years ago and because no one condemned it, it metastasised into today’s verbal yuck!

A few years ago, at a press conference, we heard this: Bloody ba****d, does he have any shame? Bloody ba****d, who is he? These words came from former Prime Minister H.D. Deve Gowda. This tirade was targeted at the then Chief Minister B.S. Yediyurappa.

Then we heard this: “They were in power for 34 years, but did nothing. Now they are trying to shove bamboo up the arse of those who are doing it.” This suggestion of “bamboo proctology” with fisting action came from West Bengal CM, a lady, Mamata Banerjee. She was referring to the CPM.

Sometimes it gets a bit childish too. In the 1970s, Piloo Mody, MP from Swatantra Party, when interrupted repeatedly by Congress MP J.C. Jain, snapped saying, “Stop barking.”

Jain protested, “Sir, he’s calling me a dog — it’s unparliamentary!” Mody apologised: “Okay then, stop braying.” Jain didn’t object. And the remark stayed on record.

In 2022, in an attempt to restore civility to political debate, Lok Sabha Secretariat released a list of ‘unparliamentary expressions.’ It was a noble idea, executed with a dollop of extremism.

The list banned terms like false, hypocrisy, incompetent and even lollipop! One wonders what the poor lollipop ever did to deserve political exile.

The use of profanity in politics today, it seems, isn’t accidental; it is strategic.

Today’s politicians seem to have learned that rage sells. The modern voter consumes politics in ten-second clips of outrage, which are quick, coarse and cruel.

‘Ragebait’ is the new rhetoric. And as our leaders grow more abusive, we the people grow more addicted to it.

As our leaders trade profanities, it’s tempting to ask, who elected these people? The answer, uncomfortably, is us.

We are not a ‘decent democracy’ and cannot be one because we are a Kakistocracy, a word we learnt from Shashi Tharoor. It means a government of the least qualified and most unprincipled. This being the case, what can you expect in public discourse?

Over time, the use of profanity in public has become common. We have forgotten to be civil to each other. Stand near any auto stand or tea stall and you will hear the choicest curse words. Go to a 5-star hotel or even a club and will hear both the Kannada and English versions of the curses. Everyone seems to be cursing someone all the time.

Language shapes behaviour. Crude words breed crude thoughts and crude thought leads to crude actions. As Lao Tzu wisely said:

“Watch your thoughts, they become your words; watch your words, they become your actions; watch your actions, they become your habits; watch your habits, they become your character; watch your character, it becomes your destiny.”

By that measure, we’re heading toward a very profane destiny, an uncivil, uncouth and uncultured Karnataka.

The parrot’s lesson

On a lighter note: A man once bought a parrot that could talk. Once he got home, he realised it was a parrot from a pirate ship and it loved to curse all day long.

He asked the parrot to stop cursing. It wouldn’t. He pampered to stop it, but it didn’t. Unable to hear the foul parrot, he locked it in a dark cupboard. He could still hear it swearing.

In desperation, he put it in the freezer beside a frozen broiler chicken. He could still hear it swearing ! But then, suddenly it stopped.

Worried that the parrot may have frozen to death, he opened freezer door. The parrot stepped out, shivering but polite. “Master,” it said meekly, “I’m sorry for my language. But may I ask… what did the chicken do to upset you?”

Perhaps the voters should put our politicians in the metaphorical freezer — out of power — just long enough to cool their tempers and clean their tongues.

Until then, Karnataka’s political discourse will remain what it’s become — loud, low and linguistically limp. Tragic considering Kannada is such a rich language.

e-mail: [email protected]