Do voters share Naidu's vision?

By Suzanne Goldenberg

HYDERABAD, India: In a region renowned for its political showmen he exercises a quiet wizardry, sending World Bank officials and computer executives into raptures with slick presentations delivered with a few key strokes on his laptop.

Chandrababu Naidu, aged 46, the chief minister of southern Andhra Pradesh, is self-professedly uncharismatic -- a departure in a state ruled for many years by a film star adept at blurring the line between the Hindu gods he portrayed on screen and reality.

The Telugu Desam Party founded by the late actor N.T. Rama Rao, promised Andhra voters a heaven on earth. He endeared himself to women by imposing prohibition, and to the poor by subsidizing rice.

Naidu, who overthrew his father-in-law in a power struggle in 1995, dismantled both programs and raised the sales tax. He is asking people to forego immediate gratification and work hard to turn the state into an Asian tiger by 2020.

"People want performance. Before, all the government gave was welfare programs. Slogans will remain temporary, but performance is lasting. That's what I believe," he said.

On the computer terminal behind him, an Economist magazine screen-saver flashed Russian financial statistics.

"For anything, you have to work hard. There is no substitute. And you have to plan. In America and Japan, what do you find? There is a culture of hard work. I want to imbue a new work culture here, and a new psychology."

Naidu is fast becoming a legend for his dedication; his weary aides say he works from 6 a.m. until 10 p.m. His visions of the future are borrowed from South Korean and Malaysian attempts at social engineering, and his vocabulary from a business administration textbook.

He is unfazed by the collapse of Southeast Asian economies. "Innovation, vision, motivation, work culture will bring you everything. What I want to build is a knowledge society. In my parents' day one had to do physical work; now only the brain has to work."

In his quest for knowledge, Naidu has put the state administration on-line. He plans to further entrench his control by introducing video-conferencing with officials in remote districts. He claims to spend 30 minutes a day on the Internet. Indeed, so taken is Naidu with modern management techniques that last year he enrolled his cabinet in courses at the Administrative Staff College of India, which trains senior civil servants and business executives.

Naidu's approach has made him the darling of Hyderabad's urban elite, and won him praise from the World Bank, Microsoft's Bioreign investment.

The U.S. state department has announced plans to post a commercial consul in Hyderabad, and the World Bank has set aside a US$2 billion loan for the state, about a third of India's allotment.

His success at home and his adroitness at containing his party's factions propelled the relatively youthful Naidu to a pivotal position in national politics as the convener of the United Front. This coalition of regional and leftwing parties formed the government in New Delhi in May 1996, and its fall last November precipitated the elections to be held next month.

He is conscious of his image as a future prime ministerial contender should the United Front perform well in these elections, or in the future. "I can do wonders here. I see myself as an example as a chief minister for following modern methods."

But his critics say that Naidu's fascination with the information age is but a modern variant of the late Rama Rao's gimmickry. Parts of the state are among the poorest in India. Literacy is a woeful 40 percent, far below the national average, and in some areas only 11 percent of women can read and write. The opposition Congress has accused Naidu of profiteering by buying up land on the edges of Hyderabad.

But the real danger to Naidu arises from the mass suicide of cotton farmers whose crops have been wiped out by pests and disease. The suicides have emerged as the main issue in next month's elections, challenging Naidu's own claims of efficient administration, and casting him as an uncaring leader.

"His idea of managing a constituency is to put the entire population on a grid according to class, caste and needs, and then just study it," sniffed one critic.

-- The Guardian