Some times Vajpayee, he comes across as a man of words. And it is at times such as these that his leadership assumes utmost potency.

The man's words on Gandhi Jayanti 2002, in particular, are words to remember. They were spoken, of course, in Hindi-the language he took to the un a quarter-century ago. To anyone familiar with his verbal idiom and sense of irony (honed over long years in public life), the indignation conveyed by the poet-Prime Minister was all too palpable, too characteristic, too heartfelt-to be rendered accurately into English.

India isn't so cheap, he scoffed, that it could be "sold" to anybody.

Not quite the stuff of a nation's soul finding utterance, but words for posterity nonetheless. In just a line, Vajpayee has made himself clear. Indian nationhood has little to do with state-ownership of some factories. And most importantly, it's the nationalist in him speaking. In support of disinvestment.

The words have gladdened many, and not just stock traders. This is an indication of how much India has changed since the days that Minoo Masani's voice for an open economy was a voice that didn't get any farther than a few benches in Parliament. Yet, opposition to foreign ownership of anything labelled 'Indian' has always been strong. So it was obvious that it would take the charm of Hindi persuasion to sell the market-ward shift to the people. A harmonious tongue, the kind acquainted with the subtle technique of balancing opposing views, and then tilting the scales ever so slightly.

Vajpayee's strategy remains three-pronged: call for a debate, redefine national interest, and reposition the policy's opponents as a darned nuisance.

All three have been in evidence (to varying degrees). On oil-unit disinvestment, the pm began by bringing moderation to his Cabinet's unruly display of sound and fury, brokering a compromise that allays fears of the government losing its say in this sector. The national interest aspect was broached by the remarks of October 2, and wrapped up three days later by assurances that foreign investment will be used only for the cause of India's growth, made so eloquently at the Planning Commission's 10th Five-year Plan meeting. The occasion offered a sample of the pm's repositioning skills as well. The question, he said, is not whether India can grow at an annual 8 per cent, but whether it can afford not to. With those few words, he has turned an ideal into an imperative, if poverty is to be defeated. The current 5.5 per cent rate is "stagnant", and thus plainly a problem.

Quite a performance. Will it do? Never underestimate the effect of the large 'share of voice' the pm has cornered in matters of public discourse. When he speaks, millions listen. For those with an ear for detail, he has the 10th Plan's specifics to offer. Policies on disinvestment and FDI must go ahead as planned. Other than that, the emphasis will be on labour reforms and fiscal prudence, supplemented by infrastructure projects and tax reforms. The administrative, security and judicial systems all have to play their part too, since institutions have come to be regarded as a major growth enabler.

The general idea is for the government to concern itself with rule-setting and policy-making, while giving up the actual hurly-burly of business to the private domain. Beyond that, Vajpayee wants this to become a 'people's movement', not a stack of files that can collect dust for another five years.

So, where does that leave swadeshi? Doing fine, actually. Does that surprise you? So long as the think-work on how to achieve national goals is being done by Indians, it is surely swadeshi enough, isn't it? Here, it's advisable not to confuse means with ends. In Gandhi's time, self-reliance was a workable tool for empowerment. But why remain attached to a tool? Today, pragmatism recommends other ways, with equal moral legitimacy, to attain those very goals, cherished as they should remain. Are we getting there? That's what we need to chart
progress by.