For the past five years, Maharashtra politics has resembled a Hindi serial—with outrageous plot twists and unexpected reversals. The BJP seemingly emerged on top—having split the two most powerful parties in the state—Shiv Sena and the NCP. So why is it looking weak and beleaguered in a key swing state?
Remind me about Maharashtra…
Nooo! Do we really have to? Ok, here is the basic plotline—this Big Story has more details:
- In 2019, Shiv Sena and the BJP joined to form the government. But the BJP emerged as the biggest party—and Devendra Fadnavis decided he wanted to be in the driver’s seat.
- Shiv Sena (Uddhav Thackeray) had zero intention of handing over the reins—and switched sides, joining Congress and Sharad Pawar’s NCP.
- BJP bided its time—scheming on the sidelines like a cartoon villain—looking for signs of weakness.
- In 2022, it seduced an ambitious Shiv Sena leader Eknath Shinde—who switched sides taking 40 MLAs, 12 MPs—and eventually the party name and symbol with him.
- Last year, senior NCP leader Ajit Pawar followed suit. This time, BJP’s haul was 42 MLAs and 2 MPs.
Where we are today: Eknath Shinde is Chief Minister—with two Deputy Chief Ministers: Devendra Fadnavis and Ajit Pawar. But none of them are secure or satisfied with their position. And the BJP—which swept almost 50% of the vote in alliance with Shiv Sena in 2019—looks weaker than ever.
Ahead of the 2019 polls, a confident Fadnavis promised “mi punha yein, mi punha yein!” (I will come back again and again). But today, his speech has become a meme—with voters wondering which ‘I’ plans to occupy the gaddi this time around—Shinde, Pawar, or Fadnavis?
Nitin Gadkari the canary? Six months ago, one of the most popular state leaders boasted that he would not hold a single election rally—to win his seat in Nagpur: “However, as the April 19 elections approach, Gadkari is seen actively campaigning in every nook and cranny of the constituency, which is considered one of the safest seats for the BJP in Maharashtra, indicating the shape of things to come.”
The magic of BJP’s “todfod rajniti”
Destroy-and-rule politics: The strategy of ‘todfod rajniti’ is straight-forward and effective—at least in the short run:
[The BJP] used a trump card that it has successfully used in many parts of the country over the last decade – if you cannot get power, target the powerful. The historic split within the Shiv Sena… and the success in wooing NCP leader Ajit Pawar to break family ties seem to be a part of the BJP’s single-pronged strategy to make a dent in two of Maharashtra’s biggest political dynasties, the Thackerays and the Pawars.
Winning over Shinde and Pawar added to Fadnavis’ glory—making him seem mightier than ever. It also had the added benefit of weakening the very leaders that the BJP lured to its side:
The other gain for the BJP has been that with splits in the two strong state-level players, the political space is now more easily available for it to conquer. Following the splits, both factions of the NCP and Shiv Sena are weaker, more entangled in the rivalry to outdo the other faction of the original party and unable to pose a threat to the BJP. In a sense, this fits well with the BJP’s objective of occupying all political spaces held by state-level players.
The strategy of breaking apart its rivals seemed clever at the time. But it has come at a significant price—which has become glaringly apparent, come election time.
The price of playing Pied Piper
It’s all very well to lure rivals to jump off a political cliff. But in this case, there is grave danger that they will drag the BJP down with them. Here’s why:
Destroying your own: The BJP was the biggest party in Maharashtra in 2019—perfectly poised to build its base to achieve total dominance. But it was impatient and greedy. The party opted for the speedy short cut at the expense of its own leaders:
During these five years, the party failed to consolidate its vote bank across social sections in the state and also failed to create a second and third rung of able leadership. The constant influx of leaders from different parties and ideologies led to confusion and affected their morale.
As a result, the party leadership also betrayed the loyalists who worked hard to build its strength—as one angry leader points out:
“We have been working hard to independently set our footing in the state but now all our opponents are in our party… They have been inducted with a promise of seats and power positions. This is a huge injustice to those loyal to the party for many years as they are left with nothing and now in many cases have to report to these leaders from other parties.
Destroying your allies: The BJP doesn’t seem to have grasped the downside of wooing and demoting opposition netas. Take Eknath Shinde, for example. Fadnavis has done his best to reduce him to an in-name-only CM: “[T]he BJP was, and continues to be, the real force behind the ‘Mahayuti’ that currently rules Maharashtra. There is no doubt that one deputy CM is in fact the super CM.”
But Shinde now looks weak to his own base—which is not ideal when you’re looking for votes:
Everything appears to have been done by the BJP to make Shinde’s Sena faction the ‘real’ Shiv Sena, but it is looking more like a rag-tag force. On the contrary, Thackeray’s Shiv Sena’s propaganda of ‘pachas khokhe, ekdam ok’ implying that the BJP has bought each legislator for Rs 50 crore has resonated well with sections of the public.
And the more Shinde looks like a weak-kneed sell-out, the greater the sympathy for the man he betrayed—Uddhav Thackeray.
Point to note: It’s testimony to the BJP’s hubris that it demanded all candidates in the alliance fight the election under its party symbol: “Fighting a poll under its symbol would bind the candidate to the BJP for the whole term. For a regional party, such a suggestion would be as good as merging with the BJP and becoming deadwood.” Even Shinde rejected that generous offer.
As for Ajit Pawar: He is under severe pressure to deliver Baramati—the family bastion of his uncle Sharad Pawar. The NCP candidate is Sharad’s daughter Supriya Sule—looking for her fourth straight term in the Lok Sabha. A desperate Ajit has put forward his wife—Sunetra Pawar—to take her on. The move, however, has rallied the entire Pawar clan to Pawar Sr.’s side. As a result, Ajit is not just taking on his uncle or cousin—but also his own brother. It is not a good look—and it has put the question of loyalty front and centre in the campaign.
The big question: Modi nahin toh kaun?
That question once spoke to the unquestioned hold of Narendra Modi over the Indian voter—and the power of the TINA (There Is No Alternative) syndrome. But ground reporting suggests that it’s now asked—not with admiration, but as an expression of voter frustration.
Depreciating Brand Modi? For one, the ‘benevolent leader’ image is wearing thin. In one village, a group of women are no longer enamoured with Modi-ji’s welfare benefits—which does little to relieve the pain of inflation:
“All other things are costlier than in the past. You are giving us free ration. But from soap to milk and sugar to gas cylinders, everything is costlier. Electricity bills are also high,” said Gaydevi Johe, who is in her late 50s. Ramabai Kirote, sitting next to her, complained about the quality of grains at the ration shop. “Tell your Modiji to give us quality rice and wheat. Many times, we get rotten rice. The government must check its quality before sending it to the ration shop,” she said.
Looking for an alternative: The disenchantment is palpable—but subdued. What is more apparent is the lack of enthusiasm—and frustration with the lack of choice. For example, a farmer says: “Modi theek hai, magar bhav chahiye. Doosra aadmi chalega, par doosra aadmi hai hi nahin” (Modi is alright, but farmers need better prices. An alternative would be good, but there is no alternative).
Voters seem to need to justify their choice—even to themselves:
Even as they give reasons of “vikas (development)”, “Hindutva (mandir)” and “India’s growing respect in the world”, there is a greater reliance on arguments that say “positives outweigh negatives” and “ends matter more than the means”. The hope for change that Modi represented for many in 2014 and 2019 is now threaded with “power politics is like that only” cynicism, and an almost helplessness, “but where is the alternative”.
Interesting point to note: According to the Indian Express, many Dalits are worried about the Constitution—like this farmer near Nashik:
“This election, we will vote for jo sanvidhan ki raksha karega, those who protect the Constitution”. If the Constitution is changed, he fears that “Dalits will be implicated in cases and won’t get bail, reservation kam ho jayega (will be reduced)”.
The bottomline: The BJP won 23 Lok Sabha seats in 2019. This time around, it is contesting only 30—to make room for its new-found allies. All this ‘seat adjustment’ means the party may not improve on its 2019 total—which, in turn, makes the ‘chaar sau paar’ target very difficult to achieve.
Reading list
This Indian Express column (paywall) and Hindustan Times offer the best analysis of BJP’s woes. We also recommend reading this ground report from north Maharashtra in the Indian Express. Deccan Herald is excellent on the undermining of Eknath Shinde. Scroll looks at the battle of Baramati. The Wire has more on the confusion caused by the new party symbols—birthed by the party splits. Frontline looks at why the BJP is looking weak in the first phase of voting.
