Politics: From Public Service to Private Fortune
Politicians today are increasingly seen as generators of personal wealth, adorned with the decorations of fame, power, and high office. Public life, once a calling rooted in sacrifice, has for many become a ladder to privilege. History offers striking counter-examples. Mahatma Gandhi lived simply and died with almost nothing to his name. Lal Bahadur Shastri left behind bank balances that were a mere pittance. Jawaharlal Nehru surrendered ancestral assets to the nation and abandoned a lucrative legal career, accepting imprisonment instead of privilege. These leaders measured success not in possessions, but in purpose. Contrast this with the present. Politics has evolved into a carefully managed inheritance plan—financial cushions, elite lifestyles, and lifelong security for successive generations. Today’s leaders travel in super-luxurious, bullet-proof vehicles, funded by the public exchequer. Yet only a generation ago, legislators cycled to work, owned neither scooters nor cars, and often walked miles to serve their constituents. Emergency travel meant hired vehicles or public transport. For many, their first flight—if ever—was at public expense. Their homes bore no marks of opulence of palatial mansions with retinue of staff. Educational qualifications were modest, sometimes limited to secondary school, if at all. Their children studied locally, shaped by ordinary schools and common experiences. Now, the offspring of politicians are groomed in elite public schools or world-renowned foreign institutions, carefully crafted into an exclusive club of the rich and powerful. Earlier leaders had little or no savings. Some borrowed money at interest to survive. Others relied on scholarships or the generosity of philanthropists. They wore simple, locally made clothes, shunned designer labels, and carried no luxury watches, pens, phones, or handbags. National and traditional attire symbolised humility and belonging. Today, benefits and perks have been legally devolved not only upon politicians but extended seamlessly to their immediate families as inheritance . Foreign residences, overseas businesses, and executive-class travel have become status symbols—an envy for the ordinary Indian citizen. “Official tours” conveniently disguise free travel by air, road, and rail. It is little wonder that politics is widely regarded as the most lucrative profession: tax-free incomes, sweeping perks, and practical immunity from raids or prosecution—conditional only on loyalty to the ruling party. This ecosystem fuels defections, poaching, and political opportunism. As the saying goes, there is enough to satisfy needs, but never enough to satisfy greed. The power and influence wielded by politicians today would make any law-abiding citizen envious. They can fast-track permissions, shape markets, and quietly hold stakes—as benami partners—in land deals, construction projects, apartments, and businesses. Power becomes currency; influence, investment. Legend has it that Alexander the Great propagated the myth of Napoleon Bonaparte’s funeral, where his hands were said to be stretched outside the coffin, scattering gold and silver—to convey a timeless truth: that the world’s greatest conqueror returns empty-handed, just as he arrived. In reality, Napoleon was buried quietly in a sealed casket, and only later accorded a grand state funeral in a gold-decorated coffin—one no common citizen could even glimpse. His will, however, bequeathed 300,000 francs in gold and silver to servants and friends, not dynasties. The lesson is enduring and uncomfortable. Titles fade. Power dissolves. Wealth does not accompany us beyond the grave. What remains is the ledger of our choices—whether politics was used to serve the nation, or to serve oneself. Nelson Lopes Chinchinim Nelson Lopes Chinchinim https://lopesnelsonnat.wordpress.com
