From politics to cinema, a vague anti-nepotistic sentiment rules
The world of politics and cinema may seem to be far apart, but both are connected with the zeitgeist and are two different indicators of a national, perhaps global, mood where people are seeing family-based privilege as an impediment to individual mobility.
A few events in recent times suggest a process that may well be the zeitgeist -- or defining spirit -- of our times.
Dil Bechara, the last film of Sushant Singh Rajput, who died of suicide months back, released online to a historic reception. Reports say that it garnered 75 million views within the first 18 hours, making it the most viewed OTT film ever in India.
The release came amid outpourings of grief over Rajput's death and an acerbic, no-holds-barred, debate on nepotism in the film industry, with Kangna Ranaut repeatedly attacking big film industry names.

These events are similar to what we have seen in the field of politics over the last few years.
The dominant political narrative of our times -- which has spilled over to the social media -- is the calling out of "nepotistic privilege". The disproportionate loser of this narrative has been Rahul Gandhi, who has to millions come to signify undeserved privilege because he comes from India's first political family. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, in contrast, has been much celebrated as a "chai-wallah", a self-made man.
The world of politics and cinema may seem to be far apart, but both are connected with the zeitgeist and are two different indicators of a national, perhaps global, mood where people are seeing family-based privilege as an impediment to individual mobility.
The two worlds have been connected even in the past, in thematic terms. Nehruvian India with its thrust on socialism found a film-industry parallel in Raj Kapoor's cinema. The waning popularity of Indira Gandhi in the mid-70s, stories of corruption and the Gharibi Hatao slogan found resonance in films, with the anti-establishment, angry young man, finding on-screen expression in the rise of Amitabh Bachchan to superstar status. Similarly, much media hype and middle-class hopes pinned on globalisation in the 1990s saw the rise of Shah Rukh Khan, the globe-trotting NRI surrounded by a feel-good lifestyle but seeking love.
The present phase -- all initial signs indicate -- shows the discontent generated by globalisation but without its structural rejection. In other words, the unfulfilled promise of individual upward mobility with globalisation -- a phase of flashy global images of affluence, widespread consumeristic desires but limited growth of the ability to live the promised life -- leads to the desire to find scapegoats in entrenched family elites.
There is little doubt that there are elite families, as there have always been, that try to make competition easy for their children. However, the focus in earlier decades wasn't on them. Rather, the focus was on policies that could uplift the underprivileged. The socialist narrative of Nehruvian India sought to offer this upliftment via stable, government jobs, while the social justice turn of the 1990s sought to uplift underprivileged social groups largely defined on lines of caste.
The movement, in other words, was from class to caste, something that also damaged left politics in the medium term.
A new outrage
However, the present outrage is of a different kind. This isn't necessarily the outrage of the marginal, though it appeals to many on the margins of society.
The pivot of this outrage is the middle class: people who had enough disposable income to do reasonably well in life but also an ambition to do much better. However, opportunities dwindle beyond a point, and the visible figure of the family-based elites -- a Rahul Gandhi or a Sachin Pilot, or an Alia Bhatt or a Kareena Kapoor -- becomes a much-hated person.

And the existence of the democratising -- as also obfuscatory -- social media makes this discontent grow and acquire a critical mass.
Much political and institutional outrage over the last few years has been on a Nehruvian elite that left "others" out to dominate the country. The others here do not constitute a specific class or group. These can include anyone from an upper caste businessman or IT professional to an OBC from UP or Bihar who earns his living in Delhi driving a cab.
The others are too amorphous, have little in common, but are bound by a nebulous hatred for the elite, with Rahul Gandhi becoming a personification of the latter.
It is perhaps because of this that Gandhi is unlikely to appeal to people, howsoever hard he tries. He has become the other of the larger social narrative. It is narratives that carve out "heroes" in their own mould as much as socially aware leaders spin fresh narratives in society.
The BJP is the biggest political beneficially of this vague, anti-elite mood, apart from its Hindutva advantage. The reason: it has a large middle class and upper caste constituency that is active on social media, hoped to achieve a lot in times of globalisation but feels it has stagnated. This mood of individual mobility has already made class and caste-based social justice less relevant, thus preventing the left or the SP or BSP from benefitting from the discourse.
However, the discourse is being put to use even by those outside the BJP. Sections of Ambedkarite students in universities like JNU or Hyderabad call the left a privileged, Brahminical, force. Supporters of Rajasthan Chief Minister Ashok Gehlot left no stone unturned to suggest that Sachin Pilot is an ambitious, privileged, dynast who demands more than he deserves.

There may be a grain of truth in this. What is more important, however, is how the debate is being ubiquitously framed.
Unlike in the past, the film industry isn't reflecting the zeitgeist in its themes. Rather, in days of twitter, there is an open war of words within the industry, with Ranaut calling out Mahesh Bhatt and Javed Akhtar, and Zoya Akhtar saying upfront that a barber will give his shop to his son and not to the best barber in town.
The collective nature of the outrage has brought the "elites" on the backfoot. Sonakshi Sinha quit twitter and Karan Johar unfollowed most of those he followed after being viciously trolled following Rajput's death.
In politics, a listless Congress -- and in the intellectual field, many liberals -- wonders bitterly why Rahul Gandhi and Priyanka Gandhi aren't being able to dent Modi at all.
The answer seems clear. They aren't reading the writing on the wall and trying to sail against the stream. Till the vague, anti-elite narrative rules the social media, Rahul Gandhi has no chance.
The Congress needs its own, charismatic, common man or woman at the helm to make a difference.