["She is
positioning herself as an important national leader," said C.P. Bhambhri,
a political analyst. Much like other regional leaders, like Mulayam Singh Yadav
of Uttar Pradesh and Narendra Modi of Gujarat, who are widely believed to
harbor ambitions for national positions, including the prime minister's office,
Ms. Banerjee too is projecting her party's relevance outside of West Bengal,
said Mr. Bhambhri.]
Saurabh Das/Associated Press
Trinamool Congress party leader Mamata Banerjee speaking at
a rally in
New Delhi on Oct. 1, 2012.
|
Ratcheting up the pressure on the central government, the West Bengal
chief minister Mamata Banerjee organized a rally in Delhi on Monday as part of
a series of protests to demand a rollback of the government's new economic
policies.
"These policies
will destroy the lives of the common man," Ms. Banerjee said to a crowd of
a few thousand people gathered at Jantar Mantar. "They will punish the
ordinary people of this country."
The rally, held in the
political capital of the country rather than in West Bengal, home to Ms.
Banerjee's traditional support base, marks a strategic step in the regional
leader's attempts to make inroads into the country's national political scene,
analysts say, after she left the governing United Progressive Alliance to
protest the new measures.
"She is
positioning herself as an important national leader," said C.P. Bhambhri,
a political analyst. Much like other regional leaders, like Mulayam Singh Yadav
of Uttar Pradesh and Narendra Modi of Gujarat, who are widely believed to
harbor ambitions for national positions, including the prime minister's office,
Ms. Banerjee too is projecting her party's relevance outside of West Bengal,
said Mr. Bhambhri.
This strategy appeared
to play out at the rally on Monday, where workers of the Trinamool Congress,
Ms. Banerjee's party, chanted, "We have won Kolkata; now it is Delhi's
turn." Ms. Banerjee announced a 48-hour dharna, or protest, in Delhi on
Nov. 19 and 20 and an ambitious tour of other Indian states, including Uttar
Pradesh, Bihar, Haryana and states in southern India.
Clad in her trademark
white-and-blue cotton sari and rubber slippers, Ms. Banerjee portrayed herself
as a "clean" leader, untainted by allegations of corruption that have
plagued senior Congress leaders and unafraid to take on the central government.
"She is not only the tigress of Bengal, but of the whole country,"
said Sharad Yadav, a leader of the Janata Dal (United) Party, at the rally.
On Monday, she
expressed solidarity with farmers, factory workers, vegetable vendors and other
poor people in the country. "I am not in politics for any personal
gain," she said, "but only to serve the people of this country."
Ms. Banerjee, whose
party has a small but significant block of 19 parliamentary seats, has emerged
as an influential leader. She won a landslide victory in West Bengal's
elections in 2011, ousting the state's leftist parties that had governed for 34
years. Ms. Banerjee is now boosting her national profile, observers say, with
an eye on the 2014 elections, in which neither the Congress nor the opposition
Bharatiya Janata Party is expected to win a majority.
While Ms. Banerjee is
popular among the rural poor in West Bengal, she has, in recent years, earned a
reputation for being an intolerant and mercurial leader. Politically,
she remains unpredictable, analysts say. "She is fickle minded. She is
temperamental," said Mr. Bhambhri. "But she is also very, very
clever."
In the run-up to
Monday's rally, she led a scathing Facebook campaign against the government:
"Reforms are meant to usher development for the people," a post said.
"Now-a-days, the trend is, whenever any anti-people decision is taken, it
is taken in the name of reforms."
Earlier this month,
the embattled Indian government introduced several economic policies aimed at
revitalizing India's stalled economy, including a controversial measure that
would allow foreign investment in India's retail sector and pave the way for
foreign retailers like Walmart to set up shop in India. This move was met with
widespread protests by other politicians, led by the Trinamool Congress, who
argued that small Indian shop owners and vendors would be squeezed out.
The government also
announced a rise in the price of diesel and a cap on the number of subsidized
gas cylinders, measures widely criticized as "anti-poor."
The Congress Party,
however, has dismissed Ms. Banerjee's attacks. "After Mamata Banerjee came
to power in West Bengal, there is no industrial development and no jobs were
created," the union minister V. Narayanasamy said
in a televised interview on Sunday.
The central government
can't be like that, he said. "The center has to march forward for the
purpose of fulfilling the wishes and aspirations of the people."
TURNING UP THE VOLUME ON GLOBAL POVERTY
[Global Citizen, the Web site and festival, grew out of the Global Poverty Project, which strives to end extreme poverty: the situation of more than 1.4 billion people trying to subsist on less than $1.25 a day. The Global Poverty Project works with nongovernmental organizations worldwide, spanning education, women’s rights, public health, including providing mosquito nets and malaria treatment as well as training midwives to help eradicate polio in the three countries where it remains endemic. It was noted that Mr. Young is a polio survivor.]
By Jon
Pareles
Julie Glassberg for The New York Times
|
Mr. Young’s set was molten and unkempt, yet it had his
own kind of finesse. He and Crazy Horse, on their first tour since 2004, often
huddled near the center of the stage, bobbing back and forth until their heads
nearly touched, and their songs sometimes welled up out of a caldron of drone
and distortion.
But Mr. Young’s voice was pure and precise, and his lead
guitar could peal with straightforward melodies, or scrabble with frenetic
intensity, or plunge to grapple with subterranean forces. The set included
three songs from Mr. Young’s next album, “Psychedelic Pill,” due Oct. 30, and
they were openly autobiographical.
“Walk Like a Giant” was also a pithy eulogy for 1960s
idealism: “We were ready to save the world,” Mr. Young sang. “Then the weather
changed and the white got stained and it fell apart/And it breaks my heart to
think about how close we came.” It ended with blast after slow blast of the
closing chord, dozens of times, turning into slabs of abstract noise.
Global Citizen, the Web site and festival, grew out of the Global Poverty Project,
which strives to end extreme poverty: the situation of more than 1.4 billion
people trying to subsist on less than $1.25 a day. The Global Poverty Project
works with nongovernmental organizations worldwide, spanning education, women’s
rights, public health, including providing mosquito nets and malaria treatment
as well as training midwives to help eradicate polio in the three countries
where it remains endemic. It was noted that Mr. Young is a polio survivor.
Concertgoers received free tickets by enrolling an e-mail
address with Global Citizen and then performing certain actions through the Web
site, including watching videos, spreading information via social media and
doing something for a partner organization.
During equipment changes there were video clips, activists
and celebrities — among them Katie Couric, Selena Gomez, Olivia Wilde and
Katharine McPhee, as well as the economist Jeffrey D. Sachs — detailing poverty-related death
tolls and efforts to change them. The concert’s hosts called for actions like
sending a poverty-related tweet to the presidential candidates.
Leaders of organizations from India, Haiti and Somalia got
rock-star-size ovations. But the audience was there for the music; Foo Fighters
fans started shouting for the band before the Unicef pitch ended.
Foo Fighters were
playing their last scheduled show for some time, and they romped through it. “I
wish we could play all night,” said Dave Grohl, the band’s songwriter and
guitarist. “But I’d rather see Neil Young.”
Mr. Grohl was Nirvana’s drummer; with Foo Fighters he
combines the brawny riffs and the explosive dynamics of grunge with
arena-friendly melodies. The music cycled from Mr. Grohl playing guitar alone
to full-band bashes and back; the lyrics seesawed between frustrated fury and a
yearning for hope, climbing toward optimism at every opportunity.
The Black Keys are terse, savvy revivalists, basing
their music on early-1970s blues-rock but also allowing themselves infusions of
Hendrix, Stax-Volt soul, glam-rock, garage-rock and a touch of psychedelia.
This two-man band — Patrick Carney on drums and Dan Auerbach on guitar and
vocals — now has additional musicians onstage, but that doesn’t make it any
less rigorous.
Mr. Auerbach moans, nearly all the time, about woman
trouble, reaching back to blues vamps and shuffles; Mr. Carney propels him with
elemental no-frills beats. The set dispensed their songs like a jukebox,
keeping them short and stopping them as soon as they’d had their say. It also
included two versions of “Little Black Submarines” — as a solo, fingerpicking
quasi-blues, and then with the band, as a direct homage to Crazy Horse, socking
away at the beat.
Band of Horses, with a front line of three guitars (or two
guitars and a keyboard), has yet to escape the shadow of its obvious model, My
Morning Jacket, from its high-tenor lead vocals to its triumphal,
multiple-guitar choruses. But its songs — about salvaging love or hope from
disaster — were well chosen for this concert.
K’Naan’s songs, which often included highly melodic
rapping, revolve around his two worlds: the strife he left behind in Somalia
and his ambition and success in the Americas, including his international hit,
“Wavin’ Flag,” which sounds like both a children’s song and an anthem. His
version on Saturday added New York City details — “We moved to Harlem/Until the
I.N.S. gave us a problem” — before turning to the inspirational.
For the concert’s finale Mr. Auerbach and Mr. Grohl brought
their guitars to join Mr. Young and Crazy Horse in “Rockin’ in the Free World”;
Band of Horses and K’Naan became a backup vocal choir. The song isn’t a simple
celebration. It’s a juxtaposition of dire conditions in the verses and ironic
joy in the choruses. It’s Mr. Young’s take on the complacent “free world”
versus real life, and perhaps a song for those who want tweets to suffice as
international actions. It was a clamorous multiguitar blowout and, for those
who know the song, a hint of the real work ahead before the world can be saved.