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welfare-or-populism-how-india-is-grappling-with-cost-of-freebies

Sat Mar 28 12:47:54 IST 2026

A FEW MONTHS before Punjab’s last assembly election in 2022, a shopkeeper in Ludhiana summed up the mood of many voters with a shrug: “If electricity becomes free, one tension in life disappears.” For him, free power was not a fiscal debate or a governance dilemma; it was relief.

Across India, millions share that sentiment. Subsidised electricity, free transport, loan waivers and cash transfers promise protection against rising costs and economic uncertainty. Yet the politics of welfare has now moved beyond campaign rallies into the courtroom, raising fundamental questions about the limits of electoral promises, the authority of institutions and the constitutional idea of a welfare state.

The debate intensified after the Supreme Court sought an explanation from the Tamil Nadu government on the fiscal implications of providing free electricity. What began as a policy dispute soon evolved into a larger conversation about whether unlimited electoral promises risk undermining fiscal stability. The controversy has also exposed a complicated legal landscape involving the courts, the Election Commission and the Representation of the People Act, 1951, where the line between welfare policy and electoral inducement remains blurred.

The constitutional dimension of the issue makes the matter particularly delicate. Indian courts have traditionally exercised restraint when it comes to economic policy. Welfare programmes, subsidies and public spending priorities are regarded as decisions that fall primarily within the domain of elected governments. Judicial review allows courts to examine whether a policy violates constitutional provisions or statutory law, but courts generally avoid evaluating the wisdom of economic policy itself. This principle of judicial restraint reflects the separation of powers embedded in the Constitution.

The Constitution further complicates the debate. Through the Directive Principles of State Policy, the state is obligated to promote social and economic welfare, reduce inequality and secure a dignified standard of living for citizens. Many welfare schemes criticised as freebies are defended by governments as fulfilment of these constitutional obligations. Subsidised food distribution, public health care, income support schemes and free education programmes are often framed not as political gifts but as instruments of social justice.

“The tension around freebies reflects a broader constitutional balancing act,” senior advocate Ashish Kulshrestha told THE WEEK. The Constitution itself does not prescribe a precise boundary between welfare and populism; that boundary emerges through interpretation and political practice, he added. “Courts, therefore, face an institutional dilemma,” he said. “If they intervene too aggressively, they risk entering the policy domain of the legislature. If they stay completely away, concerns about fiscal responsibility and electoral fairness remain unresolved. Ultimately, many of these questions are meant to be resolved through democratic accountability rather than judicial prohibition.”

The legal debate has also drawn attention to the role and limits of the Election Commission of India. The EC derives its authority from Article 324 of the Constitution, which entrusts it with the responsibility of conducting free and fair elections. However, its regulatory powers over government policy decisions become effective after elections are formally announced.

Once the election schedule is notified, the Model Code of Conduct comes into force. The code bars governments from announcing new schemes, making financial grants or taking policy decisions that could influence voters. The objective is to ensure a level-playing field among political parties during the election period. Before that stage, however, the EC’s authority is limited.

“The Election Commission’s powers in this area are often misunderstood,” said P.D.T. Achary, former secretary-general, Lok Sabha. The Model Code of Conduct is not a statutory law, he elaborated, but a set of agreed norms guiding political behaviour. “It can regulate government announcements that may influence voters during the campaign period, but it cannot legally prohibit political parties from making promises in their manifestos,” said Achary. “The Representation of the People Act addresses corrupt practices such as bribery or undue influence, but policy commitments do not automatically fall within that definition. Unless Parliament introduces a specific legal framework regulating such promises, the commission’s jurisdiction over manifesto-based welfare pledges will remain limited.”

This gap has become a central issue in petitions before the Supreme Court. Bengaluru resident Shashank J. Sreedhara, in his petition, has argued that promises of freebies amount to inducement of voters and should therefore be treated as corrupt practices under the Representation of the People Act. His petition also seeks directions to prevent political parties from making such promises during the period preceding elections.

The legal challenge lies in defining that period. Indian electoral law does not recognise a statutory pre-election period during which welfare announcements are prohibited. The Representation of the People Act also does not contain provisions that directly regulate welfare schemes or policy announcements made prior to the declaration of elections.

The ambiguity becomes stark when it comes to election manifestos. Political parties typically release their manifestos during the campaign period, when the Model Code of Conduct is already in force. While the code prevents governments from announcing new schemes during this time, political parties are free to promise similar benefits in their manifestos. The Representation of the People Act does not explicitly regulate manifesto promises, and electoral law does not classify them as inducements or corrupt practices.

Recognising the potential impact of such promises on voters, the Election Commission introduced guidelines in 2013 asking political parties to indicate how they intend to finance the commitments listed in their manifestos. However, these guidelines are advisory, and not legally binding.

As a result, the legal framework governing welfare promises remains fragmented. Senior advocate Ankit Jain explained that the controversy over freebies sits at a sensitive institutional boundary between judicial review and democratic politics. “Courts can highlight fiscal risks and constitutional principles, but ultimately the legitimacy of electoral promises must be tested in the political arena, not adjudicated entirely in the courtroom,” he said.

While the law continues to grapple with these questions, the fiscal implications of welfare politics are becoming increasingly visible. Several states have significantly expanded subsidy regimes and direct benefit transfers in recent years.

Punjab provides one of the clearest examples of fiscal strain linked to welfare commitments. The state’s debt is nearly 45 per cent of Gross State Domestic Product, among the highest in the country. A significant portion of spending goes toward electricity subsidies, farm support and social transfers. Analysts warn that the state’s fiscal space for infrastructure and long-term development is narrowing.

Tamil Nadu’s financial position remains relatively stronger but it is also under pressure. Its debt ratio remains manageable yet is steadily rising. The state operates an extensive welfare network that includes subsidised food, public transport concessions, social assistance programmes and electricity subsidies. Supporters point to the state’s strong human development indicators as evidence that welfare and growth can coexist.

In Andhra Pradesh, successive governments have relied heavily on direct cash transfers and welfare payments. Analysts note that capital expenditure has declined as social spending has expanded. Telangana, once considered fiscally comfortable, has also witnessed a rise in debt levels, driven by irrigation projects, loan waivers and power subsidies.

West Bengal continues to carry one of the country’s highest debt burdens in absolute terms. Welfare schemes ranging from student assistance to cash transfers for women form a central pillar of its governance model.

Even relatively strong states are expanding welfare guarantees. Karnataka has introduced measures such as free bus travel for women and income support programmes aimed at improving household incomes. Supporters argue that such initiatives stimulate consumption and strengthen social protection.

Political leaders remain divided on the issue. Congress leader and Supreme Court intervenor Jaya Thakur defended welfare subsidies as a constitutional responsibility. “Ruling parties are duty-bound to frame policies for the welfare and uplift of the weaker section,” she said. “Subsidies are part of that responsibility and cannot be called freebies.”

Others caution that competitive populism may undermine fiscal discipline. Senior advocate Vijay Hansaria, appointed amicus curiae by the Supreme Court in the case, warned that escalating promises could have serious economic consequences. “If electoral politics descends into a competition of unsustainable giveaways, fiscal responsibility becomes the first casualty,” he told THE WEEK. “Public finance cannot be driven by short-term populism when the consequences are long-term debt and reduced developmental capacity.”

Hansaria has argued that fiscal populism creates a cycle in which governments incur debt to finance electoral promises while future administrations inherit the liabilities. Over time, such practices risk shifting the fiscal burden onto future generations.

Empirical studies show that welfare programmes can produce real social gains. Research has linked bicycle distribution schemes for schoolgirls in Bihar and West Bengal to reduced dropout rates. Subsidised bus travel for women in Tamil Nadu has improved workforce participation, while food security programmes continue to prevent extreme deprivation.

The challenge lies in distinguishing productive welfare investments from policies designed primarily to influence electoral outcomes. In India’s unequal economy, many voters do not see welfare benefits as political gifts but as legitimate claims on the state.

Political competition reinforces this cycle. Once one party introduces a subsidy, rivals feel compelled to match or exceed it. Programmes, once implemented, are rarely withdrawn. Borrowing fills the fiscal gap and the costs gradually accumulate.

Until the law provides clearer guidance on the balance between welfare obligations and fiscal responsibility, the price of promises will continue to be paid long after the applause at election rallies fades.

nitish-kumars-exit-what-it-means-for-jdu-nishant-kumar-and-bihars-political-future

Sat Mar 21 11:35:47 IST 2026

IN JUNE 2010, months before the assembly elections in Bihar, the BJP decided to hold its national executive meeting in Patna. Although it was meant to be a low-key gathering, posters suddenly appeared across the city announcing the arrival of Narendra Modi, who was then chief minister of Gujarat. Chief Minister Nitish Kumar was visibly irritated. He felt it was an attempt to introduce Modi into Bihar’s political space on the BJP’s terms. To make his displeasure evident, he cancelled a dinner planned for senior BJP leaders at his official residence. He also told reporters who had travelled from Delhi that the publicity surrounding Modi’s visit was “not a proper thing to do”.

The episode captured the political balance of that moment. Nitish, who headed the Janata Dal (United), could determine who campaigned in Bihar, who shared the stage with him, and how far his ally’s national leaders could project themselves in the state.

Almost 16 years later, after many political shifts by Nitish, the irony is difficult to ignore. Modi has now completed nearly 12 years as India’s prime minister. One of the BJP leaders associated with putting up those posters welcoming Modi, Nitin Nabin—then a first-time MLA—has since been chosen as the party’s national president. Nitish himself has decided to step down as chief minister and move to the Rajya Sabha. The move is likely to result in the BJP installing its own chief minister in Bihar for the first time—the only Hindi heartland state that has eluded it so far.

Nitish first came to power in 2005 after defeating the Rashtriya Janata Dal led by Lalu Prasad. Since then, he has shaped the state’s politics through a combination of governance reforms, welfare programmes and careful coalition management. His early years in office focused on restoring basic governance. One initiative in particular came to symbolise his style of politics. The bicycle scheme for schoolgirls encouraged families to send their daughters to school and helped raise female enrolment across the state. Coupled with prohibition, despite its attendant weaknesses, these policies helped create a loyal base among women voters.

JD(U) leader and former minister Neeraj Kumar said the restoration of law and order was the most important change brought about by Nitish. “Law and order became the benchmark by which people judge governance in Bihar during Nitish’s rule, and for any chief minister who may occupy that position.”

Nitish cultivated a political coalition that extended beyond traditional caste alignments. Women voters, sections of the Extremely Backward Classes, and marginalised communities became an important support base. This combination of governance initiatives and social outreach allowed him to remain politically relevant through multiple shifts in alliances.

The Bihar that Nitish leaves behind has undergone significant social and political change over the past two decades. Unlike many Hindi heartland states, Bihar’s politics has followed a distinct trajectory. Since the rise of Lalu Prasad in 1990, the state’s direction has been shaped largely by regional leaders rather than direct intervention from national figures. Both Lalu, and later Nitish consciously limited the influence of central leadership. That equation, however, may now shift, particularly if the BJP’s “double-engine” governance model gains ground.

BJP national spokesperson Guru Prakash said the leadership question in Bihar would be decided collectively within the ruling alliance. Yet, Nitish’s departure creates uncertainty for the JD(U), the party he built over decades. Without his authority, it faces the challenge of preserving both its identity and organisational discipline.

Party leaders insist the structure remains intact. Neeraj Kumar argued that even when senior figures left in the past, the cadre base stayed loyal. Much, however, will depend on Nitish’s son, Nishant Kumar. Unlike many political heirs, his entry was not publicly cultivated over time. His ability to engage with workers and take independent decisions will be crucial in determining whether he can hold the party together.

At 50, Nishant enters politics relatively late in a field dominated by established political families. His emergence invites inevitable comparisons with Lalu’s son Tejashwi Yadav, who has spent years building his political profile. Observers see this as a defining test of Nishant’s leadership and his ability to carry forward his father’s legacy. Failure to establish authority could prompt sections of the party to seek more secure political alignments.

Bihar’s political structure itself presents challenges. Its deeply layered caste dynamics, with numerous communities and sub-castes, make broad-based consolidation difficult. Unlike in Uttar Pradesh, where religious identity has at times enabled wider mobilisation, Bihar’s electoral behaviour often reflects localised social alliances. This complexity limits the scope for uniform ideological consolidation.

Nitish’s exit may also signal the gradual erosion of the socialist tradition that long defined the state’s politics. While such politics has declined elsewhere, Bihar remained one of its last strongholds. With the BJP seeking to expand its ideological footprint, the shift away from Mandal-era politics may accelerate. This transition comes at a crucial time, with elections approaching in states hosting large migrant populations from Bihar. These communities continue to follow developments in their home state closely, making them an increasingly important audience for political messaging.

beyond-the-battlefield-trumps-iran-strategy-lacks-coherent-vision

Sat Mar 21 11:31:34 IST 2026

AS THE STRIKES on Iran continue, and President Donald Trump issues increasingly restrictive and shifting statements, the United States appears to be operating without a clearly defined endgame. This is particularly striking for a president who, as a candidate, had emphasised avoiding “forever wars” and steering clear of regime change efforts. Yet the current intervention seems to drift between objectives—degrading Iran’s infrastructure, weakening its missile capabilities and signalling broader strategic resolve—without settling on a coherent definition of success.

In the absence of a fixed endpoint, the challenge is not just military, but political: how and when can victory be credibly claimed in a conflict that appears a war of choice rather than necessity, and is opposed also by large sections of Trump’s support base?

What makes the moment more consequential is the degree of American isolation. In the aftermath of the September 11 attacks, NATO invoked Article 5 in solidarity with Washington. Even during the Iraq War in 2003, a sizeable coalition—despite disagreements—stood with the US. Today, that pattern has broken. Traditional allies have been notably reluctant to step in, including declining calls to secure the Strait of Hormuz, wary of becoming direct participants in a conflict they neither shaped nor endorsed. The result is a US that looks more solitary than at any comparable moment in recent decades, complicating its ability to frame the intervention as part of a broader international effort.

There is also a tendency to reach for familiar templates when thinking about how such a conflict might end. References to peace arrangements in the Middle East—particularly the Israel-Egypt Camp David Accords of 1978 or the Israel-Jordan Peace Treaty in 1994—offer a comforting sense of precedent. But these analogies obscure more than they reveal. Both agreements were the products of long-term geopolitical shifts, military exhaustion and changing strategic alignments—Egypt after the 1973 war, and Jordan following the Israel-PLO Oslo Accords of 1993. Egypt’s turn towards the US, for instance, followed the 1973 war and a broader recalibration of its global positioning. Nothing comparable is visible in Iran today. There is little to suggest a willingness to fundamentally alter its posture towards the US or accept Israel’s legitimacy, making any near-term diplomatic breakthrough unlikely. There are also no indications of any forward movement on the Israel-Palestine issue.

If the battlefield offers uncertainty, the domestic arena may prove decisive.

As the US political calendar advances, economic signals—oil prices, inflation and stock market performance—are likely to weigh heavily on decision-making there. While the US is less directly dependent on Gulf oil than countries such as India, China or Japan, it remains exposed to global price movements. Any sustained disruption in supply feeds into higher fuel costs, rising inflation and, potentially, a broader economic slowdown. For American consumers, the effects are immediate; for political leadership, the consequences can be swift. It is here, as much as on the battlefield, that the contours of success or failure may ultimately be judged.

Questions of preparedness further complicate the picture. It had long been anticipated that Iran, if pushed, might seek to disrupt the Strait of Hormuz—a critical artery for global energy flows. Yet the current situation suggests that contingency planning may have been inadequate. The fallout is already visible, with disruptions affecting not only oil-dependent economies but also US-linked infrastructure and investments across the Gulf. For regional partners, this raises uncomfortable questions about the reliability and long-term sustainability of US security guarantees.

There is, inevitably, an echo of earlier conflicts. The early phase of the Iraq war saw the declaration of “mission accomplished”, only for events on the ground to unravel over time, culminating in a costly and protracted disengagement. That experience lingers as a cautionary backdrop. While it would be premature to draw direct parallels, the risk of early claims of success being overtaken by more complex realities cannot be dismissed. The political consequences of such a trajectory, particularly for the US leadership, could be significant.

For countries navigating this evolving landscape, the lessons are clear. For India, in particular, the situation reinforces the importance of strategic autonomy. Deepening economic and technological engagement with the US remains valuable, but recent developments also underline the unpredictability and often coercive nature of US decision-making. Diversification of partnerships—especially with Europe and other major actors—becomes not just prudent, but necessary. In an environment defined by volatility, hedging is not hesitation; it is strategy.

Beyond the immediate conflict, the wider regional picture is becoming harder to read. Much will depend on Iran’s position once the current phase subsides, the economic and military resilience of Israel after prolonged engagement and how Gulf states recalibrate their relationships with both Washington and Tehran. New alignments may emerge, but so, too, might deeper fragmentation. Domestic political pressures across the region could add further layers of complexity.

For now, the only certainty is uncertainty. The conflict may not yet have redrawn maps, but it is already reshaping expectations—about American power, about alliance structures and about the limits of military force in delivering political outcomes.

The author is a former Indian ambassador to the US, France and Israel, and currently a senior fellow at Carnegie India.

trumps-endgame-could-israel-bear-the-brunt-of-iran-conflict

Sat Mar 21 11:27:54 IST 2026

WIPING ISRAEL off the map has been Iran’s unambiguous desire since the 1979 Islamic revolution. Israel, for its part, considers Iran an existential threat. A major showdown was clearly on the cards.

Sitting over 7,500km away, the US had its own reasons to act. Iran’s anti-US stance is as intense as its anti-Israel stance.

Iran, with its geographical spread, strategic location, oil, military capabilities, nuclear pursuit and well-armed proxies, is a dangerous power-centre. Shia Iran also upsets the power balance in the predominantly Sunni region, and the support it has from China and Russia compounds the threat further.

China deepened the quagmire. A $400 billion economic cooperation agreement in 2021, followed by the inauguration in 2025 of a 10,400km China-Iran rail corridor through Kazakhstan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan—cutting sea route time from 30-40 days to 15—gave Iran means to bypass choke points and sanctions. A moderately strong Iran as a Chinese ally had the potential to upset the regional dynamic.

Iran holds about 12 per cent of global oil reserves and is among the cheapest sources—estimated break-even extraction cost of $14 per barrel; Russia’s is $22, Canada’s $30-$40 and US shale’s $45-$55. Sanctions severely restricted Iranian oil exports, but China, through dark fleets, teapot refineries, origin re-labelling and bypassing dollar payments, took over 90 per cent of Iran’s 3 million barrels per day at a discount of $8-$12 per barrel. China got 20 per cent of its oil from Iran and Venezuela until end-2025. Both sources have suddenly dried up.

With Russia preoccupied with Ukraine and an unprecedented political and military purge taking place in China, the timing of Operation Epic Fury seemed perfect. The opening salvo was intense and precise, delivered amid negotiations. But, since then, what 19th century Prussian strategist Helmuth von Moltke said—“No plan survives first contact with the enemy”—has come true. There are signs of this war going the way of Iraq, Afghanistan and Gaza. Even amid incalculable destruction, Iran is still standing, and striking back. Pushed against the wall, it is subjecting the world to the consequences of the war to bring pressure on its opponents.

Oil prices, disrupted and hovering around $100 per barrel, threaten to hit $200. Every country is feeling the pinch; India has managed the crisis better than most. President Donald Trump’s shifting timelines—“short-term excursion” to “pretty quickly”, “very soon” and “four to five weeks”—signal uncertainty. His statement—“nothing is left in Iran to target”—is reminiscent of the US record in Afghanistan, Iraq and Libya, and points to the possibility of Trump suddenly declaring victory and leaving Israel to do the mopping up.

A nuclear Iran, with scores to settle, will render the world unsafe. But, the sole super power’s unfettered assertion of military might is also doing the same. The Tomahawk strike that killed 175, mostly schoolgirls, is an example. Targeting errors may happen in war, but the hypocrisy in the global reaction to such “inadvertent battlefield errors”, depending on who makes them, stands out.

Iran’s proxies—Hezbollah, Hamas, the Houthis—will remain considerably degraded and its military capability significantly reduced. But without boots on the ground, there can be no surrender. The dilemma for Trump is likely to be: what would define victory?

Iran has reached a point where it has nothing to lose, or more accurately, it is ready to lose everything in a “jihad”. Internal strife has been overshadowed by the imperative of a sacrificial struggle. If Ayatollah Mojtaba Khamenei, too, is targeted, it only adds further divinity to the image of the supreme leader.

Boots on the ground in Iran will be avoided, except possibly at an isolated island facility. Iran being bombed to rubble and a partial collapse of the regime looks likely; a US-backed replacement does not. Amid the din of war, Israel is cutting down the threat from Lebanon, Gaza and West Bank. Ultimately, another country in the region will be in tatters. Random rogue strike attempts on US and Israeli assets and personnel across the world may follow.

The cost of dependency on the Strait of Hormuz may lead to upgrades to the Saudi East-West pipeline, a revival of the Trans-Arabian pipeline and similar networks to bypass choke points.

Gulf nations have suddenly realised how vulnerable they are. The safe-haven image and infrastructure advantages that made Dubai a premier global business hub took a severe beating. The incidental cover provided by US bases proved inadequate for the Gulf.

What is the likely end state to this war? Israel is working towards a denuclearised and significantly weakened Iran. The US may also be satisfied with the same. Whether it can plant seeds for civil strife or fragment Iran on ethnic lines is too early to assess.

Chinese passiveness is attributable only to internal strife. Iran’s oil infrastructure will take years and vast investment to revive. A war-ravaged, de-fanged and economically ruined Iran may yet fall into Beijing’s lap, but China is likely to tread carefully.

How long will the war last? The most accurate answer is: no one knows. The reason, on a lighter note, is that the man who stopped all the recent wars is, unfortunately, busy fighting this one himself.

The author is a former deputy chief of the Army and currently director, Asia Centre, Bengaluru.

from-oil-prices-to-national-security-how-the-gulf-conflict-impacts-india

Sat Mar 14 18:26:01 IST 2026

TWO WEEKS INTO the conflict, the inadequacy of the American security umbrella in the Gulf has been totally exposed. US defensive systems are being overwhelmed, its bases and embassies struck, key radars destroyed, and F-15 fighters and MQ-9 Reaper drones shot down. Several places in Israel—among them Tel Aviv, Galilee and Haifa—have also borne the brunt of Iranian missiles and drones.

Meanwhile, the closure of the Strait of Hormuz is threatening global oil supplies and a sharp rise in prices of oil and natural gas is having cascading effects on all aspects of the global economy.

India, too, is directly affected and, every day the war continues, its concerns mount as it scrambles to secure its vital interests.

ENERGY SECURITY

Every dollar increase in crude oil price means an increase of $2 billion in the annual bill, as India imports 1.8-2 billion barrels of crude oil a year. With oil prices expected to touch $100-110 soon, it would mean an increase of almost $30-40 billion—half of India’s defence budget. When the increased costs of insurance, time and cost of travel are added, the issue becomes too large to ignore.

The other crucial question is of reserves. As per Union Petroleum Minister Hardeep Singh Puri, India has 74 days of reserves and the government is looking at alternate arrangements.

SAFETY OF DIASPORA

No other country has a larger diaspora than India in the Gulf, totalling almost 1 crore. External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar said that around 67,000 Indians have returned home; 100 more flights are scheduled over the next few days. If the conflict escalates, it could be a logistical nightmare to evacuate so many Indians.

NATIONAL SECURITY

The assassination of Iran’s supreme leader led to peaceful protests in cities including Lucknow and Srinagar. The issue needs to be watched should an internal or external actor attempt to take advantage of the emotions and stoke violent protests. Similarly, an American submarine sinking the IRIS Dena in the Southern Indian Ocean raises questions on India’s ability to control maritime activities in its backyard.

STRATEGIC AUTONOMY

The fact that the Iran situation was discussed during Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s visit to Israel on February 25-26 raises questions if Israel, a strategic partner, kept our prime minister in the dark of its intentions. India also did not condemn the strikes on Iran nor did we condole the death of its supreme leader.

India’s decision in February to relinquish its stake in Chahbahar port under American pressure was seen as weak. We have civilisational ties with Iran, a neighbour till the partition brought Pakistan in between. It is important that any perception that India is choosing sides does not come at the cost of its strategic autonomy.

LOOKING AHEAD

With increasing petroleum prices, there is also the threat of inflation and the risk of the rupee depreciating against the dollar. Industries are already being impacted—like in Gujarat’s Morbi, the world’s second-largest ceramics hub. And, the livelihood of people working in the Gulf (remitting over $30 billion annually) could come under threat. As a result, India has to think ahead and secure its interests.

The author is a foreign policy expert and senior research consultant at Chintan Research Foundation, Delhi. X@rajeev1421

indian-ocean-security-india-iris-dena-position

Sat Mar 14 15:28:32 IST 2026

AT THE OUTBREAK of hostilities, India was willing to provide sanctuary to three Iranian warships. Following the request on February 28 for the docking of the IRIS Dena, the permission was given within a day. To argue that we were responsible for the safety of these units as they were our guests has no basis. Warships do not require help.

The Dena, which was close to Sri Lanka, apparently requested entry. As per reports from Sri Lankan media, the ship remained in international waters for 11 hours, and was sunk. The US submarine reportedly warned the crew to abandon ship. Apparently it is those members of the crew who were for abandonment that survived. On receiving an SOS, the Sri Lankan navy rushed to provide aid, saving 32 sailors and recovering 87 bodies.

One warship, Bushehr, is now docked in Sri Lanka’s Trincomalee and another, Lavan, in Kochi. The US Navy has asked Sri Lanka not to repatriate the survivors.

While this is the actual situation, plenty of discussions have taken place related to the attack’s legitimacy and India’s role in it. The legality, which is mired in controversies, is based on jus ad bellum (the right to use force) and the obligations of the masters of vessels to rescue survivors at sea, which in this case was not honoured by the captain of the submarine. Instead, the US submarine moved away from the scene, possibly to remain undetected.

With the sinking, there are fears that the war has reached our backyard. People who criticise India seem to forget that the Indian Ocean region has witnessed the presence of submarines in warm waters during the cold war and the presence of extra regional players is a daily occurrence. Moreover, the detection of submarines continue to be a challenge for all navies of the world.

India has discharged its duties in coordinating with Sri Lanka and ensuring that help and succour was provided immediately. In terms of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, the US, which has not ratified the treaty, claims that it complies with the provision of the UNCLOS and does not respect “excessive claims” by other nations.

The permission for the Iranian war ship to dock in Kochi is a legitimate action by a neutral country. The Logistics Exchange Memorandum of Agreement between India and the US, which has been dragged in to the controversy, does not imply India has joined the war. At best, the provisions of the LEMOA would allow for some fuelling or repairs if and when required. It did not mean that information on any unit would be shared with the US navy in times of conflict as there is no military alliance with the US Navy. Considering the number of US bases in the Middle East and military facilities on the island of Diego Garcia, it is unlikely that the US needs any help from India.

The author is the director general of the Chennai Centre for China Studies.

iran-has-the-upper-hand-us-israel-seeking-a-way-out

Sat Mar 14 15:24:58 IST 2026

TEHRAN

CONTRARY TO EARLY forecasts and calculations in Washington and Tel Aviv, the course of events has not necessarily unfolded as anticipated. Despite human and infrastructural losses, Iran now holds the upper hand. This advantage rests on four factors: a smooth transition of leadership, popular support, the impact of energy and economic warfare, and the military equation.

Several notable developments have been reported in the military domain. One is the economic asymmetry of the war: Iran’s low-cost drones compel the United States and Israel to deploy highly expensive missile defence systems. This has shifted the balance of the conflict. Another issue is the destruction of defence systems. Reports suggest that Iran has destroyed advanced US THAAD systems in the West Asian region. A further aspect is technological capture. Iran claims to have intercepted nearly 100 advanced American and Israeli drones so far. Among the most significant cases is the hacking of an advanced MQ-9 Reaper drone and its safe landing along with its weapons payload. If confirmed, this incident could open the door for Iran to reverse engineer advanced drone technologies. Air superiority through fighter aircraft remains largely in the hands of the opposing side, and Iran is seeking ways to address this challenge.

Two developments in recent days suggest that the US and Israel may be seeking a way out of the current situation. The first concerns a shift in targeting. In the absence of significant military targets for bombing, attacks have increasingly been directed toward residential homes, administrative buildings, hospitals, banks and public facilities. This shift—intended to intimidate the population and weaken social support for the political system—also constitutes an implicit acknowledgment that the initial military objectives have not been achieved. The second sign is the activation of diplomatic channels aimed at moving toward a ceasefire, although statements by Donald Trump suggesting that ending the war would be premature appear to confirm the complexity of this process. In recent days, the presidents of Turkey and France, along with other intermediaries, have undertaken repeated visits and communications in an effort to understand Iran’s position regarding negotiations and a possible ceasefire. Public pressure within the US and Europe, volatility in global markets, and the failure to achieve declared objectives have collectively elevated the discussion of diplomatic pathways.

Overall, Iran has thus far shown no indication of interest in a ceasefire under the current conditions. On the one hand, domestic public opinion demanding the punishment of the aggressors has become widespread within the country. On the other hand, the governing authorities cannot realistically move toward post-war governance and reconstruction without obtaining guarantees that such aggression will not recur in the future. For this reason, discussion of a ceasefire before reaching a point that ensures credible deterrence remains unacceptable from Iran’s perspective.

The author teaches at the University of Tehran.

will-trump-netanyahu-be-wise-enough-to-quit-iran-war-now

Sat Mar 14 11:42:49 IST 2026

Indira Gandhi once said the most difficult decision she had to take during the 1971 war was when to stop it. Most war leaders face it—not knowing when to stop the triumphal run. History tells many stories of triumphant armies falling into death traps. The India Gate in New Delhi bears testimony to one such tragedy when a victorious commander, after achieving his military aim, led his troops to the jaws of defeat, disease and death more than a century ago in Mesopotamia.

Whether they know it or not, Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu are at that difficult moment now—of having nearly achieved their military objective, and we know not what they plan to do next—get the boys back home triumphantly or get bogged down in a Persian messpot.

Trump had claimed to have “obliterated” all of Iran’s nuclear arsenal and most of the nuclear potential in the 12-day war of last June. In the past few days of the current war, they have already neutralised or let Iran use up most of its missile armoury. It can be said with certain credibility at this juncture that Iran, with its remaining few missiles, what is left of its navy, a non-flying air force and a substantial army that is likely to get busy helping the crippled regime re-build the ancient nation, no longer poses a threat to Israel or its Arab neighbours.

THE MISSILE FORCE

Though no official claim was made from Washington, DC or Jerusalem regarding the size, range of the missile armoury or the TNT yield of the warhead stock, experts had estimated a collection of about 2,000 medium-range ballistic missiles (MRBMs), and 6,000 to 8,000 short-range ballistic missiles (SRBMs), and no inter-continental ballistic missiles (ICBMs). According to data from the Institute for National Security Studies (INSS), Iran launched about 600 ballistic missiles and more than 1,500 drones toward 12 countries in the Middle East in the first four days of the war.

Even if the numbers were military hyperbole, the fact is that the number of launches from Iran has been coming down. From about 80 missiles on the first day of the war, the number came down to 60 the very next day, further to 20 to 25 in a few days, and to less than 15 in a week.

More than the number of missiles launched, the decreasing effectiveness of the missiles is a more reliable indication that Iran’s offensive capability had been exaggerated. Israel has claimed to have suffered fewer than 15 casualties in the first 10 days of the war—against an estimated 1,300 casualties in Iran—and evacuated about 3,100 homes. That means most of the missiles launched against Israel were spotted before they hit targets and shot down by Israeli interceptors, or were of very low accuracy. Moreover, Iran’s two major missile factories, in Parchin and Shahrud, have been hit badly.

Missile accuracies are measured in terms of circular error probability (CEP), which says how close to the bull’s eye it would fall. Going by the data published by the Wisconsin Project of Nuclear Arms Control’s IranWatch website, a Shahab-1 with a range of 300km has a CEP of about 500m, which means the missile can hit anywhere within a radius of 500m from the bull’s eye. With a yield (destructive power) of about 700kg to 1,000kg, the missile is counted among the fairly effective weapons in the Iranian armoury.

But the longer-range missiles pose a different picture. The Khorramshahr-2 and 4, with a range of about 2,000km to 3,000km, have a CEP of 30m, but their warhead yield is just 750kg to 1,500kg. Which means, it flies up to 3,000km, but delivers very little punch for all the distance it has travelled. Israeli territory being about 1,700 air kilometres away, only weapons of the Khorramshahr type can hit Israel, but the punch packed in each delivery is inconsequential to Israel.

Regarding the threat posed to Arab states, Iran has made it clear that they are targeting only the US bases and US military assets stationed on their territories. Indeed, there have been instances of collateral damage when inaccurate missiles fell on hotels and residential complexes, but the bulk of Iranian shorter-range missiles have fallen on intended targets. All the same, very little damage has been reported from these targets, and the campaign has been militarily and politically ineffective since no Arab state has since asked the US to stop firing from their territories.

A more credible way of estimating the missile potential is to count the launchers than guesstimating the missile numbers. Launchers are said to be easier to spot from the air than missiles that are kept underground. As Ari Cicurel, associate director of foreign policy at Jewish Institute for National Security of America (JINSA), reported in a paper on the 6th day of the war, “launchers have become the scarcest link in [Iran’s] missile launch chain”. Launchers also give out their location to the enemy the moment they fire a missile. Israeli media outlets had collated data about Iran’s launchers from various sources and counted between 400 and 550 launchers. By March 7, the eighth day of the war, Israeli Defence Forces (IDF) were claiming to have destroyed 75 per cent of Iran’s missile launchers. It would mean that there are too few of them left to pose any credible threat, at least till Iran’s crippled military factories build more launchers.

THE ELUSIVE AIR THREAT

The current war has seen hardly any air activity from the Iranian side, leaving the airspace to be taken over completely by the US-Israeli fleet who claim to have destroyed a substantial number of the Iranian air fleet on ground. There were hardly any attempts at interception or dogfight, let alone attempts at striking ground targets in enemy territory. The only word said in favour of the Iranian air force is that it has an army of smart engineers who have kept the 1970s vintage birds flying. That is, till the war broke out.

Iran has never posed any conventional air threat to Israel or any of the Arab states. Crippled with several years of economic and trade sanctions, it has not been able to modernise its air fleet since the days of the Shah and the decade-long war with Iraq. By early this year, Iran was estimated to have about 400 aircraft, with a combat fleet of 15 squadrons of ageing US-made Shah-era F-14 and F-4, F-5 (some 60 of them) and about 80 to 100 Russian-made MiG-29 and Su-24 of the 1980s vintage. None of them is a match for the kind of strike and reconnaissance aircraft in the inventory of even Saudi Arabia or the UAE, let alone the US or Israel. By the fourth day of the war, Israeli jets had taken out several air defence systems and command centres located in Tehran, further crippling the Iranian air force’s ability to strike back.

DEATH BY WATER

Contrasted with the air force, the Iranian navy has been a credible fighting force, say Indian Navy sources. (They should know, since they have been been exercising with the Iranians over the years.) The Iranian navy was estimated to have 18 submarines (most of them highly effective midget submarines), 70 fast patrol boats, in addition to 133 ordinary patrol boats and a few frigates and destroyers. The midget subs and fast boats, armed with missiles, could have posed a threat to enemy warships, but the US and Israel focused the first days of the campaign on crippling the Iranian fleet by shooting anti-ship cruise missiles at them. Warship Makran was destroyed at the Bandar Abbas base. It was subjected to heavy US missile assault, as were IRIS Bayandor, IRIS Naghdi, IRIS Jamaran, IRIS Soleimani and the newly-launched drone-carrier Shahid Bagheri.

On the sixth day of the war, Admiral Brad Cooper, chief of the US Central Command, claimed: “Thus far, we’ve destroyed 17 Iranian warships, including the most operational Iranian submarine that now has a hole in its side…. Today, there’s not a single Iranian ship under way in the Arabian Gulf, Strait of Hormuz or Gulf of Oman, and we will not stop.”

Moreover, the US seems to have established sea domination in the region, as was demonstrated by its strike at warship Dena that was returning from a fleet review in India, off the coast of Sri Lanka. As US Defence Secretary Pete Hegseth claimed on the 5th day of the war, “Iranian Navy rests at the bottom of the Persian Gulf.”

Hardly any Iranian naval activity has been reported after the first few days of the war. The only major claim from the Iranian side was to have hit US aircraft carrier Abraham Lincoln, but independent reports suggest no substantial damage to the ship. All the same, little has been heard of the 18 submarines, including two or more of Russian Kilo-class. They could still pose serious threat to shipping in the straits, the gulfs and the seas around Iran. As Vice-Admiral Mark Mellett, former head of the Irish military, told a news portal, Iran still retains the ability to launch unconventional attack at sea through the use of drones, mini-subs and shadow fleet vessels, and also sow sea mines in the Strait of Hormuz. However, going by the recce and firepower that the US is claiming to be carrying into the Iranian waters, it’s a matter of days before the underwater threat is neutralised.

THE HARD GRIND ON THE GROUND

Thus the only credible arm that is left intact is the ground army—from both the Iranian army and the dreaded Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. They have not offered any resistance since there has been no threat of a ground invasion from the US-Israeli side or from any of Iran’s Arab neighbours. With some 2,000 artillery guns, about 1,300 multi-barrel rocket launchers, about 800 tanks of various types (including vintage US Pattons and British Chieftains of the Shah era to modified and upgraded Russian T-72s), that many or more armoured fighting vehicles, and about 6,00,000 active combatants, the two ground armies do pose a threat to any enemy who ventures on a ground invasion. Moreover, it would be nearly suicidal for the US or Israel to launch a ground offensive, even with the US’s ability to airlift ground forces all the way from homeland or elsewhere.

But that works both ways. With all the ground army strength at its disposal, Iran has limited or no capability to launch a ground offensive against Israel, whose territory is separated by about 1,800 km of Iraqi, Syrian and Jordanian territory. Indeed, the huge Iranian army continues to be a threat to its Arab neighbours, but with no substantial air support being available to the invaders, the defender can easily thwart any ground offensive.

What is finally left is the threat of the Iranian-armed Hezbollah. It will continue, but Iran’s capacity to arm it with drones and rockets has already been crippled. The Hezbollah’s firepower has been vastly reduced with Israeli offensives into its bases in southern Lebanon, Syria and elsewhere. Moreover, it is largely armed with drones and rockets, both of which are easily intercepted.

Nearly two weeks into the war, the military objective of eliminating Iran as a threat to the US, Israel or any of the Arab countries has been more or less achieved. As Cicurel estimated, “as Iran continues to lose the war, the regime will rely on small, infrequent missile attacks and struggle to sustain higher daily launch volumes….”

What is left is some mop-up operations to neutralise the armed militias and eliminate the remaining few missiles and their launchers, leaving the ground army alone to provide stability to the post-war Iran polity. But the thousand-missile question is: will Trump and Netanyahu be wise enough to quit the war at this moment of victory? Or will triumphalism seize their war-mongering minds and make the Middle East a worse messpot than what George Bush Jr created in Iraq?

iran-wars-ripple-effect-how-the-middle-east-conflict-is-shaping-indias-economy

Mon Mar 23 12:36:06 IST 2026

HOW INDIA IS affected by the Iran war and the spreading conflict in the Middle East comes down to a glass of water. Or rather, what you think of it. Is it half full? Or is it half empty? In this case, it also depends on how long that glass of water is going to stay like this.

For many, the glass is emptying fast. “I had to wait for over an hour and pay extra to the attendant to fill petrol,” said Rajeshwar Sharma, who hails from a village in western Uttar Pradesh. Many in cities have been reporting difficulty in procuring LPG gas cylinders, though the government says restrictions apply only to commercial usage. Long queues and frantic scenes have been reported at petrol bunks in many states, while social media posts about India’s oil reserves drying up within days have sent people into panic mode.

Petroleum Minister Hardeep Singh Puri, however, tried to assure that the glass is full: “The energy requirements of our citizens are being fully met. India is in a comfortable position. There is no room for anxiety or speculation in this regard,” he told the media. “India is navigating the trilemma of energy availability, affordability and sustainability even in the face of the current geopolitical challenges.”

Beyond these three worries, however, India could take multiple hits across the board if the war prolongs. “From agriculture and manufacturing to aviation and trade, the effects of the war may soon be felt far beyond the battlefield—reaching markets, industries, and households across India,” said Jigar Trivedi, senior research analyst (currencies & commodities), IndusInd Securities.

But first, the good news.

Despite many moves like squeezing out more domestic oil and gas, looking for alternative energy sources and blending ethanol in petrol, about 88 per cent of India’s fuel needs are met with imports. Half of this pass through the Strait of Hormuz, a narrow strip of water between the Arabian peninsula and mainland Iran. Iran has used it to block ship movements to step up pressure on the US.

“India thankfully has alternate channels for supply chains, including for energy needs; it will ensure the Indian economy will not have a crippling effect,” said Garry Singh, president of IIRIS Consulting, a Gurugram-based risk advisory.

With the US ‘allowing’ India to continue buying oil from Russia for 30 days, supplies are expected to be stable for the time being—Russian oil comes from its western ports like Primorsk and traverses the Suez Canal to India’s Arabian seacoast ports, bypassing the Strait of Hormuz.

Another saving grace is the imperative on the US to ensure there is no global shockwave because of Iran’s energy-squeezing tactics. And with a deal already in place to buy more oil from America, the import of Venezuelan oil into India is also expected to rise rapidly. Reliance Industries has already purchased fresh shipments of crude oil from the South American nation under the new arrangement, with bigger tankers being arranged to reduce the cost of the long transportation.

With too much focus on fuel availability and inflation, many are missing the part where the glass worryingly appears ‘half empty’, when you consider industries ranging from chemicals to fertilisers as well as sectors like aviation, electronics and IT. This is where the bad news starts.

The Middle East is not just an oil exporter to India—about a fifth of India’s exports go to this region. India’s trade with the UAE alone is more than $100 billion. “The Middle East is a critical market for Indian exporters, particularly in engineering goods, energy-related equipment, and infrastructure supplies. Any geopolitical escalation in the region creates uncertainty, which can temporarily slow down project investments and procurement decisions,” said Sarvadnya Kulkarni, CEO, General Instruments Consortium.

India has a flourishing trade with the Gulf states right from spices, agricultural produce and food products to electronics and IT Services. While goods trade is already at a standstill, any long-term impact to these countries’ economies could translate to services contracts drying up. “If the conflict prolongs, exporters could face a combination of higher logistics costs, insurance premiums and potential delays in project execution across the region,” said Kulkarni.

The significance of Dubai as an aviation and air cargo hub has accentuated the pain in sectors ranging from air travel to the gems and jewellery sector, which uses Dubai for transit. “This has disrupted global logistics corridors linking Asia, the Middle East and Europe,” said Jitendra Srivastava, CEO, Triton Logistics & Maritime. “Dubai and Abu Dhabi act as critical transit gateways for Indian exports moving to Europe, Africa and North America. When those hubs slow down, cargo quickly piles up at origin points, which is already visible in India.”

Middle East carriers like Emirates, Etihad and Qatar Airways ferry more passengers from India to foreign destinations than Indian carriers. Their disruptions, along with the closure of airspace across much of West Asia, has not only seen airfares shoot up, but left international travel from India in limbo.

“Aviation is a high fixed investment business and because of that the interest costs keep on building up. If your operating profits get very low, then business becomes less viable,” said Vikas Prakash Singh, PGPM director, Great Lakes Institute of Management, Gurugram. “But India is one of the largest players, so financiers may be ready to renegotiate the contracts.”

That adjustment will be crucial, if fuel prices keep going up. “Higher jet fuel prices are already emerging as another pressure point for airlines,” said Srivastava. It is a bogeyman that had nipped a few Indian airlines in the bud in the past.

The crucial question is, how longer and deeper an impact do we have to brace ourselves for.

Many believe that inflation is not much of a worry. “India’s inflation is already very low. So there is a lot of room for us to remain comfortable, even if the inflation doubles,” said Singh of Great Lakes. “Moreover, there could be a little more interest rate cuts in order to reduce the pressure on costs.”

But one worry remains. Foreign portfolio investors pulled out more than Rs20,000 crore from Indian markets in just the four days after the war broke out. A bigger worry is the tanking rupee—will it finally hit the dreaded 100 mark against the dollar?

Remittances could also be hit, and this has larger ramifications for India’s GDP growth. Nearly 40 per cent of this comes from the Gulf and any significant drop could be damaging. Also, large scale loss of jobs and Indians coming back unemployed from the Middle East would not only be a heavy burden on India, but starkly slow down consumption that is central to its economic growth.

beyond-nuclear-the-true-aim-of-us-israel-military-action-in-iran

Sat Mar 07 18:00:17 IST 2026

The assassination of Iran’s supreme leader has confirmed that the war aims of Israel and the United States extend beyond the nuclear issue to regime change. Negotiations over Iran’s nuclear programme had been making progress and did not justify military intervention.

In retaliation, Iran has launched missile and drone attacks on Israel as well as on US bases in Bahrain, Kuwait, the UAE, Qatar and Saudi Arabia. Airports in Abu Dhabi and Dubai have been hit. The Gulf states have closed their airspace and commercial airlines have suspended flights. An oil tanker has been struck in the Strait of Hormuz off the coast of Oman. Saudi Aramco’s refinery at Ras Tanura, as well as an LNG facility at Ras Laffan in Qatar, have also been targeted.

The region, which hosts a nine-million-strong Indian diaspora, is now engulfed in conflict.

The outbreak of hostilities was preceded by an unprecedented build-up of US forces in the region, even as talks on the nuclear issue were under way between Iran and the United States. The USS Abraham Lincoln was deployed in the Gulf of Oman, while the USS Gerald Ford was stationed in the Mediterranean.

As the US military presence expanded, Iran informed the UN Security Council that, if attacked, it would exercise its right of self-defence by retaliating against Israel and US bases and assets in the region. The IRGC Navy also conducted exercises in the Strait of Hormuz to demonstrate its ability to block the vital waterway through which nearly twenty per cent of the world’s oil supply passes.

The third round of indirect talks, mediated by Oman, concluded on a positive note on February 26 in Geneva. Oman’s foreign minister, Sayyid Badr Albusaidi, said in an interview on February 27 that a “peace deal is within our reach”. Israel and the United States struck the following day. The military action pre-empted the possibility of a negotiated settlement.

Following the assassination of the supreme leader, Iran announced the formation of an interim Guidance Council consisting of President Masoud Pezeshkian, the head of the judiciary Mohsen Ejehi, and Ayatollah Alireza Arafi, a jurist from the Guardian Council. Meanwhile, the IRGC has launched fresh missile salvos against Israel and US targets. The leadership transition has not diminished Iran’s ability to prosecute the war.

Regional fallout

Even before the US-Israeli strikes, the leaders of nine Arab states had written to President Donald Trump advising against military action. Their appeal reflected deep concern that their countries would suffer collateral damage in the event of war. Subsequent developments have vindicated those fears.

India’s interests

Since the beginning of February, the price of Brent crude, the international benchmark, has risen by $4.54 per barrel. Within three days of the outbreak of war it climbed by a further $10.42. A prolonged closure of the Strait of Hormuz could push prices even higher. For India, every one-dollar increase in the price of oil adds roughly Rs 14,000 crore to the country’s annual import bill.

Apart from crude oil, India sources around 55 per cent of its LNG from the Gulf region, of which Qatar accounts for about 40 per cent. Following the attack on the Ras Laffan facility, Qatar has declared force majeure on the production and supply of LNG. This has removed roughly 20 per cent of global LNG supply at a stroke.

The resulting shock has driven up gas prices sharply. In Europe, prices have risen by around 50 per cent, while the spot price of LNG in the Asian market has nearly doubled to $25 per mmbtu. As a result, Petronet and GAIL have reduced gas supplies to the domestic industry in India.

During my tenure as India’s ambassador to Iran, I had the privilege of negotiating India’s participation in the Chabahar port project. We should complete the project as soon as the situation permits. Geography does not change, and the port will remain strategically important for India’s access to Afghanistan.

Similarly, India must continue developing the International North-South Transit Corridor (INSTC), which could significantly reduce the time and cost of trade with Russia. The corridor is also vital for improving India’s access to Central Asia.

The way forward

Trump has indicated that the war could continue for another five weeks. Even so, such a campaign may not achieve regime change. What it will certainly do is devastate a region that is home to a nine-million-strong Indian diaspora.

There is therefore an urgent need to declare a ceasefire and resume negotiations on the nuclear issue, which had already made considerable progress. Iran is unlikely to compromise on its missile programme, which it regards as its only effective deterrent against Israeli or American attack. It has already faced military strikes from both countries twice.

Changing course will not be easy after the highest levels of leadership have invested political capital in the declared objective of regime change. Yet it remains a better option than a prolonged war. An extended conflict would erode American capacity to counter China in the Taiwan Strait and could prove a costly gamble in an election year in the United States.

The author negotiated the Chabahar agreement as ambassador to Iran and was director, GAIL.

deterrence-strategy-how-iran-is-escalating-conflict-and-economic-warfare-against-us-israel

Fri Mar 06 16:12:58 IST 2026

TEHRAN

When the United States launched its attack against Iran on February 28, both countries were already engaged in talks. The negotiations that had continued until February 26 marked the second time since President Donald Trump’s inauguration in 2025 that the Islamic Republic and the US had entered nuclear talks. However, the US used those discussions as a mechanism of deception. When an agreement appeared imminent, a military incursion against Iran was launched in concert with Israel, as had happened during the 12-day conflict in June 2025. Crucially, this time it involved the martyrdom of the supreme leader, who served not only as Iran’s political head but also as a religious authority and leader with a vast global following.

The death of the supreme leader inflicted profound grief upon the Iranian people. A monumental wave of mourning, accompanied by overwhelming calls for “severe retaliation” and a “strong response” swept the nation, despite limited expressions of satisfaction from small, isolated factions.

Iran responded immediately, launching drone and ballistic missile strikes against Israel and US military installations in West Asia within hours. Iran had repeatedly issued public warnings and official diplomatic notes asserting that any aggression against its territory would inevitably trigger a regional war. Beyond Israel, which faced continuous bombardment through more than ten waves of missiles and drones in less than 72 hours, US bases surrounding Iran, along with several naval vessels, including the USS Abraham Lincoln, were struck and engaged. In response, the US and Israel continued their attacks, targeting not only missile sites and military facilities but also civilian infrastructure, including a primary school, a hospital and residential areas.

Owing to sustained media pressure and persistent threats from the Trump administration, the Iranian population had partly acclimatised to the prospect of conflict. The prevailing belief was that the conflict initiated last year had not concluded but had merely entered a period of suspension, capable of reigniting at any moment. Consequently, both citizens and state authorities undertook preparedness measures, including the stockpiling of essential goods, sanitation supplies and military material. As a result, the outbreak of hostilities did not produce the severe shock or disruption witnessed during the earlier surprise attack. Queues for petrol lasted only one day, and minor shortages of certain commodities were swiftly resolved.

The strong spiritual and religious bond between Iranians and their martyred supreme leader fostered a powerful sense of loyalty and cohesion. This was evident in the nightly gatherings of citizens and their families in major city squares, which served both as mourning rituals and affirmations of allegiance to the Islamic Republic. These gatherings also acted as a deterrent to the kind of street unrest seen recently, which was allegedly supported by the US and Israel. Alongside grief, feelings of vengeance and concern about the future persist. Continued military actions by the Iranian armed forces against enemy positions are presented as a response to public demands for retribution.

A widespread conviction has emerged among Iranians that the supreme leader established governance structures so robust that the state’s functioning does not depend on any single individual but on institutional and social frameworks. Within days of the conflict’s outbreak, all state affairs continued in accordance with established procedures, demonstrating that the absence of the leader did not impede operational planning. This resilience is presented as evidence of comprehensive contingency preparation. The Leadership Council, comprising the president, the chief justice and one of the Guardian Council’s jurists, was constituted on the second day to assume the functions of the supreme leader. The election of a new leader now rests with the Assembly of Experts, a body of 88 jurisprudential and religious scholars elected nationwide, which is legally required to convene at the earliest opportunity to select a successor. Ali Larijani, secretary of the Supreme National Security Council, has articulated a foreign policy centred on good neighbourliness and regional stability, stating that strikes will target only US military installations and assets located abroad, which under international law are regarded as extensions of US territory.

In contrast to the US, which is portrayed as seeking a limited war and a decisive strike, Iran has prepared for a protracted conflict. The Iranian public has resolved to eliminate what it sees as the persistent spectre of aggression from its airspace. The strategy articulated to achieve this objective involves imposing significant costs on the adversary in order to establish long-term deterrence.

This approach rests on two principal pillars. The first is to inflict maximum military damage on US and Israeli forces by targeting regional bases, personnel and hardware. The second is to raise global economic costs by influencing energy markets. Iran has blockaded the Strait of Hormuz, through which roughly 20 per cent of global energy supplies transit, preventing the passage of oil tankers. Tehran has also declared unequivocally that it will not resume negotiations with the US, asserting that talks are now perceived not as a path to agreement but as a precursor to further attack. The stated objective of these strategies is to secure long-term deterrence, enabling Iran to pursue its development within a framework of international security free from the shadow of war and coercion.

The author teaches at the University of Tehran.

we-have-identified-2500-military-targets-reuven-azar-israeli-ambassador-to-india

Sun Mar 08 15:34:04 IST 2026

Q/ Given that indirect talks in Geneva reportedly showed progress as recently as last week, how does Israel justify the timing of this massive escalation?

It was an American decision. The United States concluded that the negotiations were going nowhere — especially because Iran was unwilling to compromise meaningfully on the nuclear file. They also refused to discuss the threats that other countries face from their ballistic missile programme. As you know, Iran had been planning to build between 10,000 to 20,000 ballistic missiles — enough to devastate several countries. Additionally, they were unwilling to discuss their support for their proxies, the terrorist organisations which they arm and fund with advanced technology as a means to produce sophisticated weapons. So it was an American assessment, and Israel joined the effort after both the U.S. and Israel decided there was a combined need for military action to remove the threat. We might see negotiations coming back if Iran chooses to accept the American conditions.

Q/ What would you outline as American conditions at this point in time and, from the Israeli point of view, are you even hopeful?

I do not know what the conditions set by the US are today, but I think President Donald Trump was pretty clear that he sees a situation where this operation could prolong for weeks. It is up to the Iranians to decide whether they want to go back to the negotiating table, this time under the conditions set by the US. These conditions cover the nuclear programme, ballistic missiles, and support for proxy groups—that path remains open. But the US has now made it clear that it wants regime change, and until then, action is deemed necessary. Now the question is whether this change will take place inside the regime, or result in the removal of the entire leadership. In Venezuela, it was easily done, with the people in power leaving, but it is different in Iran because the military operation has already removed several senior military decision-makers, and it is up to the Iranians to decide if they want this to continue or stop.

Q/ Beyond the killing of Ayatollah Khamenei, what is the specific plan to ensure a transition to a stable, friendly government? Is there not a high risk that a vacuum will be filled by more radical elements within the Islamic Revolutionary Guards Corps?

The idea that a more radical leadership would replace the current regime is unlikely—the present leadership is already among the most hardline elements. I think people have to be reminded that Ayatollah Khamenei was the most radical element within the Iranian regime. All the people calling for modern or reformist policies in the last few decades were targeted. Reformist voices had been suppressed, and leaders were placed under house arrest. The entire regime was filled with people as radical as him. So to think Iran can have a more radical regime after this is a bridge too far.

Q/ What is the specific “end state” Israel is looking for, and how confident is Israel that Iran’s nuclear breakout capability has been permanently neutralised?

We have identified approximately 2,500 military targets, and we are conducting operations against them as we speak. At the conclusion of operations, we are aiming—together with the US—to completely neutralise the two existential threats from Iran’s ballistic missile programme and military nuclear programme.

Of course, in the medium and long term, if there is a change in regime, these programmes won’t be reinstated. However, if the regime remains unchanged, there remains a risk that these capabilities could be rebuilt. That is why both Israel and the US—unlike in the operation in June—have expanded the objectives this time and are calling on the Iranian people to seize the opportunity for change.

Q/ The US and Israel have expressed hope for an internal uprising, but history shows such strikes can often lead to a “rally around the flag” effect. Why do you believe this time will result in liberation rather than further radicalisation?

We are not prophets. We are also not in the place of the Iranian people, so ultimately it is up to them. But I think after the regime has demonstrated its ruthlessness with the killing of tens of thousands during past protest waves, more Iranians now understand that this regime does not serve their interests. Of course, there are a handful of hardcore supporters of the regime, but the question is whether they will continue to have the capability to oppress and kill those who want freedom. I don’t have an answer for that.

Q/ Recent missile strikes have raised concerns about the limitations of Israel’s air defence systems, like the Iron Dome, that are being exposed to a multi-front barrage.

The Iron Dome does not handle the threat of ballistic missiles. We use other systems, such as Arrow and David’s Sling, for that threat. Unfortunately, no system is 100 per cent impermeable. A recent strike resulted in casualties, as the missile hit one of the towns, Beit Shemesh, leaving 51 injured and killing nine people, which is tragic. This is a very substantial threat. But on the brighter side, I can tell you that we are intercepting roughly 90 per cent of incoming missiles. What can happen in the future is that the Israeli Air Force and the forces of the United States are going to continue hunting missile launchers on the Iranian side, which will bring down their numbers and reduce their firing capability over time.

Q/ With Hezbollah now launching retaliatory strikes from Lebanon, is Israel prepared for a sustained, high-intensity conflict on its northern border while simultaneously managing the Iranian front?

Yes. We anticipated that scenario, and we are completely ready. Hezbollah has made a serious mistake by firing at Israel and entering this conflict. The repercussions are going to be severe. We have already targeted several of its leaders, and we are going to hit hard at military installations in southern Lebanon. Evacuation orders have been issued in areas where Hezbollah military infrastructure is embedded among civilians, and that is happening as we speak. Israel will continue degrading Hezbollah’s capabilities. Another positive development is that since the last round with Hezbollah, Israel has also deployed a new laser-based defence system, Iron Beam, which is proving to be very efficient in adding another protective layer against rockets and drones. Though Hezbollah has fired many rockets and drones, its capability to penetrate and harm Israelis has diminished substantially as a result of Iron Beam.

Q/ Iran has been targeting Gulf travel hubs. Will Israel intervene to protect its new regional partners in the Abraham Accords?

Israel is already acting to protect its regional partners because we are now over the skies of Iran, and are hunting the missile launchers. We are planning the defence of the entire West Asian region together with our American friends and other friendly armies in the region.

Q/ Some analysts suggest that by making the Gulf States a target, Iran is forcing them into a “neutrality” that actually pushes Saudi Arabia and Iran closer together against Western intervention. How do you read this shift in regional strategy?

Actually, the opposite is happening if you read the statements that were issued by the countries that were attacked. They were attacking neither the U.S. nor Israel, but diplomatically, they were attacking Iran. So the attacks on these countries are seen as hostility coming from Iran, and they are not blaming Israel or the United States. That suggests Iran’s actions are isolating it further.

Q/ With the Strait of Hormuz effectively blocked and oil prices soaring, what is Israel’s strategy to mitigate a global economic meltdown that could turn international opinion against the objectives you are trying to achieve?

When it comes to international opinion, I think we are in a very good situation. We have seen many countries condemning Iran, and we have seen more and more countries joining to show support for the action against the Iranian regime. When it comes to the global oil market, I think the US has taken into account the possibility that prices will go up temporarily. But unlike the situation in the 1970s and 1990s, the capability of the Iranians to affect the oil market in the long term is pretty limited, both because the military options are going to diminish as time goes by and the ability to close the Strait of Hormuz is going to be non-existent. Right now, the diminishing of the movement of ships in the strait is a precautionary act that many companies are taking, and they are going to wait and see how this develops in the coming weeks and then take a decision on whether to allow ships to continue flowing.

Q/ Projects like the India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor (IMEC) were built on the promise of regional stability. With a regional war in full swing, do you concede such ambitious connectivity projects face a huge challenge?

The fact that we are taking care of the Iranian threat is going to make the possibility of IMEC and other regional projects much higher. Because, in the past, many countries were hesitating whether to enter into projects in the region, fearing the military build-up that was happening in Iran and other places as a result of the Iranian regime’s effort to put pressure on the Arab Gulf countries…. If the ongoing military campaign manages to neutralise the Iranian threat, prospects for executing projects like IMEC become significantly higher.

Q/ We recently saw Prime Minister Narendra Modi in Israel, days before the military strikes on Iran. Do you think India’s position has shifted from neutrality to a strategic alignment with Israel, and what has driven this change?

India’s policy is in line with its own interests, and it is up to India to align with this country or another. What happened during Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s recent visit was that we substantially upgraded our strategic cooperation. We call it a Special Strategic Partnership, as we have reached agreements that are going to allow us to cooperate more deeply in creating solutions on the defence and security side and serve our interests. It comes at an opportune time because both India and Israel face challenges from radical forces, and both countries are embracing the future by creating the competitive edge that we need in order to succeed on the world stage.

Q/ India has millions of citizens working in the Gulf and remains a top importer of energy from the region. How does Israel plan to address New Delhi’s concerns regarding the safety of the Indian diaspora and the massive inflationary pressure this war is placing on the Indian economy?

Israel is ensuring the safety of Indian workers within its territory. We have very strict protocols regarding the safety of all residents of Israel, including citizens and non-citizens. When it comes to the Gulf, the fact that we are dealing with a more comprehensive way to counter threats from radical forces actually increases the prospects of a more stable Gulf region, both for Indian workers and Indian companies

Q/ We have seen the long-term chaos that followed regime changes in Iraq and Libya. Are there specific measures to prevent Iran from descending into a decade of sectarian civil war?

I think it is very difficult to compare the situation in Iraq or Libya to the situation in Iran. We don’t know exactly what will happen at this point in time, but what we know is that the situation is different and there will be a substantial change, either of the regime or within the regime. Iran not only has a civilisational history and background, but also the capability, politically and organisationally, to function as a responsible state. We do not support chaos, and hope things will move smoothly into an order that serves the interests of the Iranian people and the world, which will see a region that is more stable and more moderate once the radical elements are defeated and removed.

Q/ This is a historic action against Iran’s military nuclear infrastructure, as we have seen Israel raising concerns over the years. This operation must have been in the works for a long time. For how long has this effort been going on?

Israel has been working for nearly 30 years to prevent Iran from acquiring nuclear weapons. This nuclear technology itself today is not new — it is over 80 years old. So it is not a very sophisticated technology. The fact that we have managed to prevent Iran from arming itself with nuclear weapons is only a result of our efforts. When it comes to the future, I think this operation and coordination with the U.S. give us much better prospects of preventing Iran from reinstituting its nuclear programme for a much longer period of time. But, if this regime continues to exist, I have no doubt that it will try to re-engage in reinstituting the nuclear programme. Therefore, we would like to see a situation in Iran where this operation not only degrades military capability but creates conditions for political change — leading to long-term stability. That is why we hope this military operation will help the Iranian people free themselves of oppression and engage with the world in a more positive way that will actually make all our effort, time, money, and blood in preventing existential threats to humanity worthwhile. We hope to get to that da

iran-us-tensions-how-gulf-states-are-navigating-economic-warfare-shifting-alliances

Fri Mar 06 16:03:57 IST 2026

AMMAN

The escalating confrontation between Israel, the United States and Iran is placing unprecedented strain on the regional system that has long depended on US security guarantees. Iran has demonstrated its readiness to retaliate beyond its borders, while Gulf states are increasingly exposed to the consequences of their close defence partnerships with Washington. As the conflict widens, a debate is emerging across the region over whether the political and economic costs of alignment with the US have become too high. Regional actors are reassessing alliances, deterrence strategies and their long-term place in a changing security architecture.

The confrontation is proving to be as much an economic war as it is a military one. Iranian strikes on energy infrastructure in Saudi Arabia and Qatar have already shaken markets, while the closure of the Strait of Hormuz signals Tehran’s readiness to expand the conflict into the global economic domain. Iran’s attempt to internationalise the confrontation by targeting Gulf energy infrastructure may ultimately backfire. Such actions risk widening the economic fallout of the war and increasing pressure for a broader international response.

President Donald Trump’s Iran policy has been based on pressure and deterrence, using sanctions, military threats and strong public statements. While this approach has reassured some allies, it has also created concern among regional partners who fear that escalation could quickly move beyond control. Trump entered his second term promising to avoid long wars in the Middle East and to focus on limiting US involvement in regional conflicts. However, the current confrontation has placed him in a difficult position, where backing down could be seen as weakness, while further escalation risks widening the war. This contradiction is being closely watched in Arab capitals, where governments still depend on US protection but are increasingly cautious about being pulled into a conflict shaped by Washington’s internal political pressures as much as by regional realities.

Israel’s role has also been central in pushing the confrontation forward. For years, Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has treated Iran as the main strategic threat and has argued that a stronger response is necessary to limit Tehran’s military and political influence. Israeli policy has focused on stopping Iran from expanding its presence through missile programmes, proxy groups and military positions across the region. This position has brought Israel closer to several Arab states that share concerns about Iran, especially after the Abraham Accords, but it has also increased the feeling among others that regional security is being driven by a confrontational approach that leaves little room for diplomacy. As a result, the current crisis is not only about Iran’s behaviour but also about the growing belief that the regional balance is being shaped by pressure and force rather than negotiation.

The vulnerability of Gulf states quickly became evident as the confrontation expanded beyond Israel. Much of the US military infrastructure in Bahrain, Qatar, Kuwait, Iraq, Saudi Arabia and the UAE lies within the range of Iran’s short-range ballistic missiles, which are inexpensive and designed for rapid launch. As a result, retaliatory strikes were able to reach targets across the Gulf within hours of escalation.

Iranian missile and drone attacks against US facilities hosted in the UAE caused direct impacts on Emirati territory. Similar incidents were reported in Saudi Arabia, where an attack triggered a fire at the Ras Tanura oil complex, forcing Saudi Aramco to halt refinery operations. These developments highlight how proximity to Iran makes Gulf states the first arena of escalation whenever confrontation with the US or Israel moves into open conflict.

Strategically, the current pattern of strikes suggests that Iran has not yet used the full extent of its military capabilities. Tehran’s doctrine favours gradual escalation, relying on calibrated missile and drone attacks rather than an immediate large-scale response. Decision-making has also become more militarised in recent years, with the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps playing a leading role and showing less willingness to rely on de-escalation efforts. Iranian planners appear aware that US policy under Trump has often prioritised short-term displays of strength, creating an incentive for Tehran to avoid a rapid, maximal response that could justify broader American intervention.

Recent defence cooperation between regional powers reflects a growing effort to reduce exclusive dependence on the United States. The UAE has expanded security coordination with India, particularly in maritime and technological fields, while Saudi Arabia continues to rely on long-standing military ties with Pakistan in training and defence support.

This pattern highlights a shifting deterrence dynamic in which regional powers tied to Washington are increasingly seeking to limit their exposure to escalation rather than rely solely on US protection. Regional actors are not abandoning Washington, but they are clearly seeking additional partners to reduce their vulnerability. The conflict has highlighted the costs that can come with US protection and may gradually push the region toward a more flexible security architecture rather than one centered entirely on the US.

If the conflict continues, Israel could emerge with a significantly stronger strategic position, particularly if Iran is weakened without the emergence of a new regional counterweight. Such a shift would reshape the regional order in ways that many states may view with caution, even as they share concerns about Tehran’s influence.

The author is a research analyst based in Amman.

how-pakistan-is-stuck-in-a-geopolitical-quagmire

Fri Mar 06 15:59:35 IST 2026

In the early hours of February 28, the US and Israel launched a coordinated attack on Iran. For the past few weeks, the mobilisation of the American armada in the vicinity of the Persian Gulf had suggested that a war between the US and Iran was imminent. Iran had faced a joint US-Israeli attack in June 2025.

The objectives of the American-Israeli attack on Iran in June and February are clear: dismantle Iran’s nuclear installations, destroy its missile programme, and compel regime change in Tehran. This time, Iran made it clear that it would target American military bases in the Gulf, conduct retaliatory attacks against Israel, and destabilise the Gulf region by closing the Strait of Hormuz and hitting at American interests in the region. It is yet to be seen how far the Iranian regime, deprived of its supreme leader and military leadership, will proceed with retaliatory acts against Israel and the US.

What are the implications of the US-Israeli attack and how will prevailing tensions between Pakistan and Afghanistan impact the escalation of war in the Gulf region? How will Pakistan react to the possible crippling of the Iranian regime?

Islamabad is stuck in a ‘devil and the deep blue sea’ situation. On the one hand, it has to consider the anti-American and anti-Israel sentiments that got an impetus as a result of the attack on Iran. On the other hand, it has to keep in mind its strategic relations with the US and Saudi Arabia. Conspiracy theories in Pakistan about the prevailing war in the Gulf emanate from the timing of US-Israeli attack. It took place when Pakistan was deeply involved in its armed conflict with Afghanistan. Also, the visit of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi to Israel concluded days before the US-Israeli attack. Whatever be the objectives of attack, it needs be analysed in the context of its implications in south and west Asia.

One needs to be mindful of the fact that if the conflict escalates further, Pakistan would be in deep trouble. Islamabad argues that the growing Indo-Afghan nexus, and the support seen to be rendered by India and Israel to Afghanistan in its prevailing conflict with Islamabad, is not an ordinary situation. It is also believed in Pakistan that Israel will turn to its actual target after destroying Iran: Islamabad’s nuclear arsenal.

Is Pakistan ready to face joint Indo-Afghan and Israeli strategic pressure? Already, Pakistan is grappling with the surge of violence and terrorism in the restive provinces of Balochistan and Khyber-Pakhthunkhwa, and its economic predicament is worsening with each passing day. Will Pakistan’s military, facing a two-pronged threat on its eastern and western borders, succeed in dealing with the alarming situation? How will Pakistan deal with the outburst of popular sentiments if Israel and the US succeed in dismantling the Iranian regime? There is a sectarian dimension to the growing security predicament: around 20 per cent of Pakistan’s population are Shia Muslims, who sympathise with Iran. The attack on the US consulate in Karachi on March 1 reflects the popular resentment against the attack on Iran and the killing of Iranian supreme leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.

Iran’s missile attack on Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Kuwait, Jordan and the UAE—pro-American states that have economic and security ties with Pakistan—will put Islamabad in a difficult situation. To maintain neutrality will be an uphill task for Pakistan. Most importantly, reports of the Afghan support to Israel and perceived coordination between Kabul and New Delhi have Pakistan shocked.

Is the state of Pakistan capable of dealing with multiple security threats emanating from the US-Israeli attack on Iran and ongoing armed conflict between Kabul and Islamabad?

Implications of US-Israeli attack on Iran needs to be analysed from two angles. First, the failure of diplomacy to avert it. Like the June 2025 attack, the recent attack happened when talks between Tehran and Washington were going on. The fact is that, after the June 2025 attack, Iranian power had weakened. Iran had lost Syria as its ally and was facing pressures in Lebanon, Yemen and Gaza. Furthermore, the Iranian regime faced a popular uprising led by the students. Although that revolt was crushed by the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, a wide section of Iranian society had turned against the regime.

Second, if Pakistan is facing a dilemma in the ongoing war in the Gulf, India is also in the same situation—because, by siding with Israel and the US against Tehran, it would lose its age-old strategic and economic ties with Iran. Furthermore, the economic fallout of the Gulf war will have serious financial and economic implications on South Asia, which will be reflected in the surge of oil and essential commodity prices. It will now be up to China and Russia, as two major powers, to prevent the collapse of Iran by putting their weight in favour of Tehran. If the war goes on, it would have devastating impact on global economy and security.

Ahmar is professor of international relations and former dean, faculty of social sciences, University of Karachi.

why-pm-modis-silence-on-khameneis-death-is-a-diplomatic-strategy

Thu Mar 05 17:42:58 IST 2026

Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s loud silence on the assassination of Iran’s supreme leader Ali Khamenei in a joint US-Israel military attack has sparked strong comments, criticism and rebuke within the country (India has offered its condolences on Khamenei's death, with Foreign Secretary Vikram Misri signing the condolence book at the Iranian embassy in New Delhi on March 5). Prominent opposition figures see this as an abandonment of moral, ethical and leadership responsibilities. The issue has become a domestic controversy amid upcoming assembly elections, where Muslim voters could play a crucial role in the outcome. Even otherwise informed and intelligent minds do not look beyond the assassination and tend to ignore or downplay the consequences of the Iranian response for the Arab countries.

Modi may choose to make his views public later. But his ‘silence’ at the moment appears logical and is shaped by two main factors: India’s strategic interests with the Gulf Arab states, which are now primary targets of Iran’s counter-offensive, and the demographic makeup of India’s Muslim population.

Even before the international community, including India, could process the news of Khamenei’s assassination, Tehran expressed its anger towards all its Arab neighbours. The stated goal of targeting American bases in the Gulf fell apart when several civilian and non-combatant sites in the region were hit by a barrage of Iranian missiles and drones. Among the targets in the Arab countries were ports, airports, oil terminals, hotels and holiday resorts, which are the prime assets and wealth of the Gulf countries.

The Iranian response was indiscriminate, targeting not just Israel but all six members of the Gulf Cooperation Council, Jordan and the autonomous Kurdish regional government of Iraq. Even Oman, a traditionally neutral power since the 1970s and a strong supporter of Tehran’s engagement with the outside world, especially with the US, was not spared. Qatar, which faced a four-year Arab boycott over its ties with the Islamic Republic, also faced the Iranian barrage. Until now, only Israel has been accustomed to hostile missile and drone attacks and has built a resilient home front. For the Gulf Arab countries, used to wealth, comfort and security, the Iranian actions were shocking and unsettling.

While the Trump-Netanyahu duo unleashed hostilities, the Iranian response is destabilising an area of significant importance to India. Modi could have expressed his deep sorrow and condolences for Khamenei’s killing and could have even used stronger words. He might have done this and more had he not needed to consider the well-being of the nearly one crore Indian expatriates in the Gulf Arab countries.

Any expression of sympathy for Khamenei or perceived sympathy for the Iranian leader would have made it more difficult for Modi to engage with Gulf Arab leaders, who are essential to India’s political, economic, energy and social interests. Indeed, within hours of the Iranian attacks, he called UAE President Sheikh Mohamed bin Zayed Al Nahyan and “strongly condemned the attacks” on the Emirates, declaring that “India stands in solidarity with the UAE in these difficult times”. The following day, Modi shared similar sentiments with Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman and condemned the “attacks on Saudi Arabia in violation of its sovereignty and territorial integrity”. Later, he pledged support to Bahrain, Kuwait, Oman, Qatar and Jordan through personal conversations with their leaders. Notably, his response to the US-Israeli attacks on Iran was different.

Any perceived support for Iran at this moment could have alienated Arab leaders, who were the immediate victims of Iran’s reckless and sometimes senseless retaliatory attacks. The issue is not solely about the safety of Indians in the war zone but also about their long-term presence in the region. Modi likely recalled the 1990 Kuwait crisis and its consequences. In their desperation, Yasser Arafat and the rest of the Palestinian leadership supported Iraqi president Saddam Hussein’s invasion, occupation and annexation of Kuwait. That one mistake proved catastrophic after Kuwait was liberated in February 1991, resulting in about 400,000 Palestinians being expelled by Gulf Arab countries, which lessened the significance of the Palestine issue in inter-Arab politics. This shift paved the way for several countries, including India, to normalise relations with Israel.

Furthermore, the external affairs minister I.K. Gujral’s famous ‘hug’ with Saddam Hussein in August 1990 during the crisis proved costly later. The Arab countries did not forget, and none of the Gulf countries was willing to host Gujral when he briefly served as prime minister during 1997-98.

Secondly, with assembly elections approaching, Modi will also need to pay attention to sectarian divisions within Islam. According to the latest estimates, India has the fourth-largest Shia population after Iran, Pakistan and Iraq. There are about 20 million Shias in India, making up roughly 15 per cent of the country’s Muslim population. Iran has the largest Shia population, and Khamenei has been respected and venerated by Shias worldwide. But the Islamic world does not speak in a single voice. Even regarding Israel, there is no unified stance; for instance, several members of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation have both formal and informal relations with the Jewish state.

However, the Iranian attacks on Sunni-majority states in the Gulf are likely to reignite sectarian divisions in the region and in India. While Muslims, both Shia and Sunni, might mourn Khamenei’s death, especially since he was killed in a brutal manner, raising him to the status of a martyr like the fourth Imam Ali would not sit well with most Sunni Muslims. The recent home ministry directive concerning pro-Iran rallies and Friday sermons about Khamenei should be understood in this context. Given the attacks on Arab states and their ripple effects on the Indian migrant community and their dependents, Khamenei seems more like a Shia leader than a Muslim one.

The combination of Iranian attacks on Arab states and the Shia-Sunni divide in understanding Khamenei’s killing suggests that the Indian government should be more cautious. If the Gulf states decide to punish those who focus too much on Khamenei’s assassination without addressing the subsequent attacks on Arab countries, labour-exporting nations should prepare for a sudden influx of Gulf returnees.

Foreign policy is not a domain for the weak. Even those who praised Khamenei must realise that the lives of lakhs of their constituents are closely linked to New Delhi maintaining stronger and warmer ties with Arab leaders. India must support the Gulf Arab countries during this crucial time in their history. Like life, foreign policy is rarely about good versus evil. Currently, the Gulf countries, their security and their well-being are far more important to India than mourning Khamenei, who has frequently criticised India over Kashmir and the welfare of Indian Muslims.

Political leaders, foreign policy experts, academics and media commentators can debate the issue endlessly and can even indulge in moral self-righteousness. The inviolability of Iranian sovereignty might seem more vital and attractive than that of Arab sovereignty and territorial integrity. However, governments do not have such a luxury or participate in popularity contests.

The same critics will cry foul if the Gulf Arab countries deport expatriates due to India’s perceived pro-Iran stance. When it comes to the future of nearly one crore citizens, one must think a thousand times before speaking. A single emotional outburst could ruin their lives forever, and trigger related consequences.

The author teaches contemporary Middle East at Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.

how-the-motion-against-speaker-om-birla-exposes-a-broken-parliament

Sat Feb 21 12:57:32 IST 2026

THE SPEAKER’S CHAIR sits above everything else in the Lok Sabha, with a commanding view of the house. So when that chair is challenged, the stakes are of a different dimension altogether.

The no-confidence motion against Speaker Om Birla is only the second one taken up for debate and vote—the first being against the first Speaker G.V. Mavalankar. That it comes less than 14 months after a similar motion against then Rajya Sabha chairman Jagdeep Dhankhar tells its own story.

“The relationship between government and opposition appears irretrievably broken,” said P.D.T. Achary, former secretary-general of the Lok Sabha.

The opposition motion against Birla listed four instances of alleged partisan conduct: Leader of the Opposition Rahul Gandhi was not allowed to complete his speech (questioning the handling of the 2020 Galwan clash); eight opposition MPs were suspended; BJP MP Nishikant Dubey was allowed to make personal remarks; the speaker said he had credible information that the prime minister faced threat from opposition members.

The motion had technical flaws (wrong dates) and could have been rejected, but Birla took the moral high ground, directing the secretariat to seek a corrected motion and put it to vote. He will not attend proceedings until the issue is settled on March 9.

With numbers stacked in the government’s favour, the motion could be set for defeat. But it is an extreme step adopted by the opposition to get “heard”.

“What option did we have?” asked Congress Lok Sabha member and whip Mohammad Jawed. “Look at the debate telecast. It mostly shows the treasury benches. Whoever wants to can say anything and it is allowed. But, the leader and MPs of the opposition are not allowed to speak.”

The ruling party rubbished the opposition’s claim. “Whoever does not agree with me, we will oppose them, whether it is the speaker, the court, the Army, the media,” said former law minister and senior BJP MP Ravi Shankar Prasad, referring to Gandhi and the opposition’s attitude.

Jawed said that historically there has always been a deputy speaker, but that position remains vacant. “There is no dialogue,” he said. “Parliament has effectively become like ‘Mann ki Baat’, the prime minister speaks without listening.”

Prasad countered that the opposition, particularly Gandhi, did not respect democratic process or propriety, constitutional dignity or parliamentary rules.

The debate that took place following the no-confidence motion against Mavalankar in 1954 offers insight into the gravity of the situation. Prime minister Jawaharlal Nehru had argued: “A motion of this character is an extraordinary procedure, which could only be justified under extremely grave circumstances.”

Achary said that traditionally, parliamentary affairs ministers served as the bridge—maintaining dialogue, negotiating, sometimes even meeting opposition demands and reporting to the prime minister. “Kotha Raghuramaiah [was] a model parliamentary affairs minister (two terms under Indira Gandhi),” he said. “He was always moving, often sitting on opposition benches, soft-spoken, creating a feeling of togetherness.”

Parliamentary Affairs Minister Kiren Rijiju argued that while it was easy to engage with opposition parties like the Samajwadi Party, the Trinamool Congress and the DMK through dialogue, “it is the Congress which disrupts Parliament by throwing papers and displaying banners”.

“The real problem is Rahul Gandhi and those around him,” he said. “When Rahul Gandhi insists the house should not function, smaller opposition MPs suffer because their speaking time is lost. The government must still pass essential bills in the national interest, but the loss is to smaller opposition parties who cannot raise constituency issues.”

The motion serves a political purpose—sending a message that the Congress will continue opposing the BJP government. With a significant presence of non-NDA MPs in the Lok Sabha, the voting could also accentuate fissures within the opposition ahead of assembly polls in five states.

Birla, a three-term BJP MP from Kota, Rajasthan, became speaker in 2019 and was re-elected in 2024—the first since Balram Jakhar was elected for a consecutive term (1980-89). Credited with several positive initiatives, Birla has been a disciplinarian with a focus on restoring order in the house. The criticism of him is that he is lenient towards the treasury benches, while the opposition receives stricter treatment, like expulsions and expunged remarks.

Achary said large majorities make governments immune to the voices of the people. “We saw that during the Indira Gandhi years,” he said. “Even then, informal dialogue survived. But now it is harsher, as opposition leaders are being termed anti-nationals by ministers.”

The Lok Sabha has seen diverse speakers. Rabi Ray opened proceedings to broadcast, exposing Parliament to the country’s gaze. In 1996, an opposition MP became speaker for the first time—P.A. Sangma, a five-time tribal MP from Meghalaya, who brought humour, informality and command of parliamentary rules. He held the balance, as a Lok Sabha publication recorded, not just between treasury and opposition benches, but between individual members.

Somnath Chatterjee made firm decisions to uphold discipline. The CPI(M) veteran, regarded as one of Parliament’s finest debaters, had his authority rarely challenged—until fellow communist Varkala Radhakrishnan tested the limits. When the MP spoke beyond his allotted time, Chatterjee rebuked him: “Varkala ji, you had been a good speaker, but you are a bad member.” The reply was immediate: “Sir, it is the opposite in your case—you had been a good member, but a bad speaker.”

In 2008, when the left parties withdrew support for the UPA government, Chatterjee refused to step down, saying his role as speaker was above party politics.

The speaker’s authority, Achary said, does not flow from the numbers on the treasury benches. “Freedom of speech in the house is sacrosanct; Parliament’s existence rests on frank and fearless debate,” he said. “Article 105 guarantees this freedom. It is the presiding officer’s duty to ensure members can speak fully and without unnecessary fetters.”

why-india-is-pursuing-a-dollar40-billion-rafale-fighter-deal

Sat Feb 21 12:51:45 IST 2026

IT’S A BIRD, it’s a plane, it’s a Rafale.

Few fighter jets are so instantly identifiable from the ground. The aircraft’s triangular wings and forward canards (small wings placed in front of the main ones) give it a distinct silhouette against the sky. That silhouette is now soaring to a new high—towards an India-France government-to-government contract that may well become the single largest military procurement in the acquisition history of either country.

With the defence acquisition council headed by the defence minister approving the purchase proposal on February 12, it is now up to the Cabinet Committee on Security to give final clearance. After that, transactional negotiations will begin.

The plan is to buy 114 Rafale fighters from the French defence major Dassault Aviation at an estimated 3.25 lakh crore (about $40 billion). The acquisition is meant to narrow the air-power asymmetry that India faces with China while preserving New Delhi’s edge over Islamabad in the coming years.

It has been more than two decades since the need for more fighter squadrons was first identified. In 2001, the medium multi-role combat aircraft (MMRCA), then called the medium role combat aircraft (MRCA), was conceived to replace the ageing MiG-21s with 126 modern fighters. The aim was to procure multirole omnibus fighters suited for regional security concerns.

In 2012, Dassault’s Rafale was declared the winner, edging out the Eurofighter Typhoon (built by a European consortium), the American F-16 (Lockheed Martin) and the F/A-18E/F Super Hornet (Boeing), MiG-35 (Russia) and Sweden’s Gripen (Saab).

In 2014, a $15-billion deal was finalised for 126 fighters—18 off-the-shelf and 108 to be manufactured by Hindustan Aeronautics Limited (HAL), with technology transfer implications. But the deal was scrapped in 2015 by the new government, which instead purchased 36 Rafales in flyaway condition for about $7.9 billion. The local assembly component was discarded, and so did clarity on the extent of technology transfer.

The figures were striking: $7.9 billion for 36 fighters and $15 billion for 126. The projected cost in 2026 has risen to $40 billion for 114, including weapons and support packages.

While the deal was in the making for long, the sense of urgency that the defence ministry may have felt while approving the new deal is rooted in strategic realities. The four-day Operation Sindoor reinforced the need to significantly boost air power. With the planned induction of 83 LCA Tejas Mk-1A fighters, the future Mk-2, and the fifth-generation Advanced Medium Combat Aircraft (AMCA) plagued by delays, India had to plug operational gaps.

But fighter procurement is never just about numbers. The engines and systems of an aircraft are projections of a country’s defence technology prowess. The components and processes involved in manufacturing them are closely guarded secrets.

India, for instance, was denied transfer of compound semiconductor chip knowhow, even though the technology figured in offset discussions. The refusal eventually pushed Indian scientists towards a domestic breakthrough in March 2023.

France has also been reluctant to share the Rafale’s source code, which governs critical systems like weapons, radars and sensors. Without this source code, India will not be able to integrate the aircraft with indigenous weapon systems and home-made equipment.

But the Indian Air Force cannot wait indefinitely when the south Asian security matrix is rapidly shifting. For decades, the IAF’s sanctioned strength has stood at 42 fighter squadrons, because the military architecture has been Pakistan-centric. Now, both China and Pakistan are seen as adversaries. “As a basic requirement to fight a two-front war… the strength of 42 squadrons may be very small. There is an urgent requirement to substantially increase the benchmark,” said a top source in the military establishment.

The IAF has only 29 operational squadrons. Its fleet of around 520 aircraft is diverse but ageing—12 Sukhoi-30 squadrons, three Mirage-2000, two Rafale, two Tejas, alongside MiG-29s and Jaguars. Around 250 more aircraft are needed to reach the current sanctioned strength, and any further revision of the strength will require hundreds more.

Pakistan, which has around 500 combat aircraft, is expanding its joint programme with China to manufacture JF-17 Thunder aircraft. With China, the IAF has to contend not just with the asymmetry in numbers but also with the technology aspect. China operates around 300 twin-engine J-20 Mighty Dragon fifth-generation fighters that are already being mass-produced. It also operates more than 50 J-35 stealth fighters.

For India, choosing the Rafale has its advantages. First is the familiarity factor. The IAF already flies Rafales, which means training, tooling and spares ecosystems exist. Second, maintenance costs would be lower. Third, the bureaucratic maze of procurement would be shorter because the road has been travelled before.

India’s security requirements have long been mired in politics, indecision, and an obvious lack of coordination and foresight. That is why the recent approval for 114 Rafales for $40 billion—after scrapping a 126-aircraft deal for $15 billion—is increasingly looking like India has circled back to the point where it started from, and with more urgency.

manipur-challenges-galore-before-khemchand-government

Sat Feb 14 15:47:49 IST 2026

Rows of tarpaulin shelters are tucked away from the main road, almost out of sight. Muddy narrow paths open into a settlement where women sit by the roadside stitching clothes, while men and young boys head out each day in search of odd jobs. Inside the shelters remain children with nowhere to go—no schools, no home, a generation staring at a bleak future. Three winters have passed in Churachandpur as families continue to wait for Manipur’s fractured communities to stitch their social fabric back together.

Since the ethnic clashes of May 2023, there had been no sustained presence of a fully functioning government, throwing both the hill districts and the valley in a limbo. When Mercy Vungthianmuang, a professor in Delhi, visited her in-laws’ home in Churachandpur for Christmas, the shroud of normalcy tore her heart—the harvest hymns were sung but not with joy, and bonfires that lit up across the state to ward off the chill only reminded her of burning down of homes. Her aunts are fighting a daily battle for survival in shelters. Even though the violence has receded, their way back home is still a dream. “This is what people don’t understand,” says Vungthianmuang, “the absence of violence does not mean peace.”

President’s rule has been lifted and an elected government is now in place. But fresh clashes erupted between the hill communities—Tangkhul Nagas and Kuki-Zomis—in Ukhrul, prompting internet services to be suspended. The reasons are ominously attached to the restoration of the elected government, which promises a political settlement based on inclusion and resolution of longstanding grievances of different ethnic groups.

The delicate task of converting political restoration into actual reconciliation now rests with the new chief minister—Yumnam Khemchand Singh, who belongs to the dominant Meitei community but is widely accepted as a liberal politician. He is the face of a carefully stitched government, with two deputy chief ministers—Nemcha Kipgen from the Kuki-Zomi community and Losii Dikho from the Naga community. While the move is being seen as ruling BJP’s attempt to reset its political messaging, Khemchand’s foremost challenge is to build trust and restart the peace negotiations.

“The burden on him is enormous,” says Sangmuan Hangsing, researcher and policy commentator. “He has to bridge the divide between the valley and the hills, while also reassuring people that the Centre is serious about course correction.”

However, the inclusion of Kuki-Zomi and Naga leaders in the government has raised difficult questions. First, giving political representation to one among the many closely related ethnic groups of the Kuki-Zomi community faces its own legitimacy challenges. Second, the participation of a Kuki-Zomi representative in the government stands at odds with their demand for Union territory status. Several groups, including insurgent groups in the hills, had said that they had no faith in the state government, subsequently leading to the resignation of then chief minister Biren Singh. “It will be very challenging for any Kuki-Zomi minister to be accepted by all sides,” says Hangsing. “The house is divided.”

On the other hand, while the presence of a Naga deputy chief minister has been highlighted as a gesture of balance, the move can cause unease within the hills—the recent clashes are proof. The Kuki-Zomis and the Nagas have been living side by side in the hills through the ethnic strife. “The predominant reason for their peaceful coexistence has been the neutral position taken by the Nagas so far,” says G. Gaingam, former president of the United Naga Council, who has been involved in backchannel talks between the Kuki-Zomi and Meiteis. “But that does not make Nagas lesser stakeholders in the region, especially when peace needs to be restored.’

In districts like Senapati, where the Naga population is dominant, residents still remember the dreadful clashes in 1992 over land ownership between Kukis and Nagas. This mixed social fabric in the hills is already under strain from the longest-running insurgency of the NSCN(IM) that has still not given up its demand for a greater Nagalim, consisting of Naga-dominated hill regions in Manipur. While the Centre has been holding negotiations with the Naga insurgent groups, there is a stalemate. “At such time, a parallel demand of a UT status for hills by the Kuki-Zomis can deepen instability, if not handled well,” says D.K. Pathak, former chairman of the ceasefire monitoring group.

For the Kuki-Zomi people, the worry is that any dilution of their UT demand can have repercussions in areas such as Churachandpur, where protests continue even after the formation of the new government. What can also become a sore point is the continued influence of the dominant Meitei community in governance, if concerns are left unaddressed.

Jagat Thoudam, former president of the All Manipur United Clubs’ Organisation, says Meitis cannot be seen as one among many communities in Manipur. “They formed the civilisational and administrative core from which Manipur took shape as a political entity,” he says. “The conflict will recur unless issues of land rights and ownership are resolved. Today it may be between two communities, tomorrow it can be between other communities.”

But the first steps have already been taken and the outcome will depend heavily on how realistically and transparently the government is able to engage the warring communities. “The approach must not be of divide and rule but genuine integration for long-lasting peace,” says Vungthianmuang.

The Union government, meanwhile, has got a buffer as local issues and restoring day-to-day activities become the responsibility of the elected government. The BJP, like other political parties in Manipur, needs to set its house in order before the assembly elections in 2027. Also, the Khemchand government is still finding its feet. “There is no problem in appointing ministers,” says Gaingam, “but the real problem is portfolio distribution. Without that, there is no administration.” Any delay in administrative work and lack of efficient handling can stall the process of rehabilitation, reconciliation and even security.

More important, only when the administration starts functioning smoothly can the peace talks move forward. In the last one year, several steps have been taken to negotiate peace, like signing of suspension of operations agreement with Kuki militant groups and disarming the civilian population in the hills and valley. The stage is now set for the next step to address the competing ethnic aspirations of the people. But it remains to be seen how ready Manipur is for a dialogue that goes beyond optics.

manipur-cm-khemchand-harbours-no-ill-feelings-towards-one-community-nemcha-kipgen

Sat Feb 14 15:44:33 IST 2026

Exclusive Interview/ Nemcha Kipgen, deputy chief minister, Manipur

Q/ You are the first woman deputy chief minister of Manipur, assuming office at a time when there is a need for dialogue to bridge the divide between communities. How do you plan to address it?

I am deeply grateful to the central leadership and my party for trusting me with this responsibility at such a critical time. I accept this role with humility. My guiding principles have always been integrity, truth and justice, and standing firmly with my people. The people have suffered immense pain and loss. Lives have been lost, homes destroyed, livelihood disrupted and the sense of security shattered. This suffering cannot be ignored. At this stage, rebuilding cannot be limited to infrastructure alone. We must also restore confidence, dignity and hope. Healing must come first. Women are the backbone of society, especially during conflict. Today, women, children and the elderly form the majority of those displaced. As a woman leader, I understand their suffering and feel a deep responsibility to represent their voices and concerns in governance.

Q/ How do you see the representation of Meitei, Kuki and Naga communities in government? How confident are you of a similar integration among the people?

Unity is absolutely essential. I do not represent one community alone. I am a tribal leader, representing tribal people as a whole. I do not divide people along narrow lines. Integration is the only way forward for governance and peace. The chief minister shares this approach. Whenever I am unable to travel to certain areas due to security constraints, he goes personally and engages with people.

Q/ There has been violence in the hill districts after your appointment.

The violence is deeply unfortunate. Physically, communities are separated, and a political solution is required. To achieve that solution, I need to be a part of the government. Some of the opposition to my appointment may be driven by misinformation. When people understand my purpose, they will realise why I took this step. This opportunity is crucial. Missing it would mean missing a critical chance to work towards resolution.

Q/ Why was it necessary to join the government?

For me, politics is a means of service. Through politics, I serve my people. Leadership is not about power or position; it is about responsibility, sincerity and dignity in action. That is why I chose to join the government. Negotiations and solutions cannot bypass the state government. The Centre alone cannot resolve this crisis. That is why being part of the government was essential, even though I am currently unable to attend the assembly physically.

Q/ Given the tensions, how do you assess your personal safety?

I have been provided with adequate security, but I do not rely solely on human protection. As long as I remain honest, I believe God will protect me. I am ready to sacrifice for my people, if required.

Q/ Do you see a future where you can attend the state assembly freely?

If there is an amicable solution, movement and interaction will become possible again. Trust must be rebuilt gradually. That is why achieving a sustainable solution is my foremost priority.

Q/ How would you describe your working relationship with Chief Minister Yumnam Khemchand Singh?

He is a sincere and pure-hearted leader. Of 40 MLAs, he was the only one who personally rescued my people during the ethnic clashes. He went himself, ensured their safety and also protected me. He harbours no ill feelings towards one community. That trust is important.

Q/ You have worked very closely with displaced families. What did you witness on ground?

I did not merely visit relief camps. I personally brought many displaced families back to my district from camps. They arrived after fleeing violence, often with nothing except the clothes they were wearing. These were survivors who had lost everything—their homes, belongings and stability. I arranged food, rice and basic necessities. Many had no clothes or blankets, so I bought them from my own pocket and distributed them. While the government did provide basic ration, the needs went far beyond that. When I visited the camps, women and children told me, “Mother, please give us at least nonveg food.” Those words reflected not just hunger, but exhaustion and despair.

Q/ How did you address these concerns at the administrative level?

I immediately arranged meetings with the deputy commissioner, who has been extremely sensitive to the needs of internally displaced persons. Following these discussions, food arrangements improved and supplies became more regular. Whenever gaps remained, I intervened personally. At the same time, I continuously raised these issues with higher authorities to ensure systemic support. When the governor visited the camps, we distributed essential items together. We tried to ensure adequate arrangements for proper food and safe drinking water for displaced families.

Q/ You also reached out to neighbouring states and Delhi. What was the response?

I raised these concerns with the Union home minister and also travelled to Nagaland to meet the chief minister. He extended support by sending medical supplies and other essentials for displaced families. As assured by the home minister during his visit to Kangpokpi, funds for setting up pre-fabricated houses for the internally displaced persons were sanctioned. This assistance was distributed free of cost to displaced persons. The challenge has been to ensure the relief reached the intended beneficiaries. I personally monitored the process to prevent exploitation or diversion. Recently, the deputy commissioner informed me that many displaced families are now beginning to return to their original locations. Necessary sanctions have already been approved, and assessments of damaged sites are underway.

Q/ Your appointment is being seen as a milestone for women in the northeast.

Representation matters, especially in times of crisis. Women often work quietly, managing families and communities under extreme stress. Having women in leadership ensures that these realities are understood at the policy level.... I believe in constructive action, not destructive politics. If required, I am ready to do anything for my people. I am prepared to make any sacrifice.

Q/ Looking ahead, are you confident about peace and the political future?

My people understand my intentions and support me. As long as I continue to serve sincerely and honestly, they will stand with me. If God wills, peace and solutions will come.

the-show-must-go-on-inside-ncps-decision-to-make-sunetra-pawar-deputy-cm

Sat Feb 07 12:55:31 IST 2026

THE SHOW MUST go on.

That, apparently, was the feeling of the top three leaders of the Nationalist Congress Party—Sunil Tatkare, Praful Patel and Chhagan Bhujbal—when they decided that Sunetra Pawar should succeed her late husband, Ajit Pawar, as Maharashtra deputy chief minister.

Sunetra, 62, hails from an influential Maratha family in Marathwada. Her father, Bajirao Patil, was a senior Congress leader in Dharashiv district (formerly Osmanabad). Bajirao’s elder son, Dr Padmasinh Patil, rose through the political ranks with Ajit, and later became minister holding important portfolios such as home and energy. Padmasinh played a key role in Sunetra marrying Ajit in 1985 soon after she graduated in commerce from a college in Chhatrapati Sambhajinagar (formerly Aurangabad).

Sunetra has been active in Baramati’s social life since she joined the Pawar family. She led the 2006 initiative to end open defecation in Katewadi village, home to the Pawar clan. Her work earned Katewadi many state and national awards. She also solved the water scarcity problem in Baramati taluka by making streams in the region deeper, and set up an environmental action group when taking up environmental issues was considered an elitist preoccupation. She helped set up a high-tech textile park in Baramati, which now employs more than 5,000 women, and was president of the Maharashtra State Agri and Rural Tourism Cooperative Federation.

Sunetra’s political entry in 2024 was marred by controversy. After Ajit split the NCP and joined the BJP-led National Democratic Alliance, he fielded Sunetra in Baramati against his cousin Supriya Sule in the Lok Sabha polls. After she was defeated, the NCP nominated her to the Rajya Sabha. As an MP, Sunetra raised issues related to anganwadi workers, river pollution, rural development and city development plans for Pune. Sunetra was also member of the Union government’s textile advisory committee, which was tasked with solving sectoral issues and improving working conditions and export capabilities. She has now resigned as MP to become deputy chief minister.

Sunetra’s nascent political journey may not offer many interesting tales, but her elevation as deputy chief minister within three days of her husband’s death provides a fascinating glimpse into the workings of the both the NCP and the Pawar family. After Sunetra gave her consent, the trio of Tatkare, Patel and Bhujbal met Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis on January 30 and informed him of the decision to appoint her as the leader of the NCP’s legislative party. They said party legislators would meet on January 31 to adopt the resolution approving her elevation, and conveyed the party’s wish to make her deputy chief minister.

On the night of the meeting with Fadnavis, Sunetra and her younger son Jay Pawar left for Mumbai. Sharad Pawar, the family patriarch, was reportedly unaware of the moves. The responsibility of informing him of the developments on January 31 was given to Sunetra’s elder son Parth Pawar. After news of Sunetra’s swearing in reached Sharad Pawar, he told journalists that the NCP under Patel and Tatkare had taken the decision under pressure. He did not name the BJP.

Around the same time, Sharad Pawar loyalist Jayant Patil revealed details of the meetings he had with Ajit Pawar over what he described as reunification plans. “Ajit dada came to my home 8-10 times. He would come in the evening, discuss the coming together over dinner, and then leave. He wished to bring the two parties together in the presence of Pawar saheb,” said Patil.

According to him, a similar meeting at his residence had other senior leaders of the Sharad Pawar faction such as Shashikant Shinde, Amol Kolhe and Harshvardhan Patil taking part. “That day, we decided to fight the zilla parishad polls together, and then make the merger announcement on February 12,” said Jayant Patil.

Sunetra’s swearing-in ceremony was noted for the absence of Sharad Pawar and Supriya Sule, since there had been a buzz for months about NCP reunification. Apparently, the agreement had been that Sharad Pawar would remain party chief even after he retired from the Rajya Sabha in April, Ajit would handle state party affairs, and Sule would join the Union cabinet. A source close to Ajit had said earlier that Union Home Minister Amit Shah was initially reluctant to give the go-ahead for the merger. Apparently, it was only after Ajit convinced Shah that the two factions took the decision to contest the zilla panchayat polls together.

“Now, after dada’s demise, it seems that the BJP leadership has changed its stand, and asked Fadnavis to make sure that Ajit dada’s faction remains a separate group,” said the source. That is the reason, according to the source, that the four pro-BJP leaders in the party—Tatkare, Patel, Bhujbal and Dhananjay Munde—played a key role in decision-making.

Arvind Tiwari, general secretary of the Sharad Pawar faction of the NCP, said the elder Pawar had no plans to join the NDA. “Why would he want to tarnish his reputation? Supriya tai is also a firm believer in secular ideology. The whole idea behind the merger was to walk out of the NDA and emerge stronger as a regional party by 2029,” he said.

Both factions now perceive a recent statement by Fadnavis as ominous. Fadnavis said Ajit would have told him about merger plans had they really existed. Many leaders take this as a sign—of not just the chances of a merger narrowing, but also the NCP being increasingly guided by Fadnavis and the BJP.

from-anjel-chakma-to-nido-tania-why-india-keeps-failing-its-people-from-northeast

Fri Jan 23 19:09:11 IST 2026

THE ANNUAL EXAMS at Delhi University were just days away. One night, clutching a bundled roll of tutorial notes I had collected from a nearby college hostel, I trudged down a quiet street towards where I lived. A lazy Haryanvi drawl broke the silence: “Kya nasha kar ke aaye ho?” (What drugs have you taken?)

The question came from a burly policeman in a Delhi Police Gypsy. I was barely 18, freshly arrived from Assam, and all I could manage was a mumble: “Main nasha nahi karta.” (I don’t do drugs.)

What had triggered the cop’s query was my “northeastern” looks. In a split second, I had been profiled and ‘sorted’ as someone on drugs. That moment clung like a heavy blanket long after the night had passed. Every now and then, it resurfaces—especially when another “Anjel Chakma incident” jolts the national conscience.

A 24-year-old MBA student from Tripura, Chakma was brutally beaten in Dehradun after he protested racial slurs. He fought for life in hospital for more than two weeks before succumbing to injuries on December 26. His last words were: “I am not Chinese… I am an Indian.”

Recently, two Indian students at the University of Colorado Boulder reportedly won nearly Rs1.8 crore in a discrimination lawsuit. The incident dated to 2023, when a university employee objected to a student heating a bowl of palak paneer in a residence hall, calling its smell “pungent”. The matter escalated into disciplinary action, against which the lawsuit was filed.

But back home, such prejudice remains common. People from the northeast routinely encounter discrimination in the so-called “mainland”, especially in metros and towns where their numbers have grown in the past two decades.

Chakma’s last words reveal a deeper truth: a desire to belong paired with the pain of being excluded. That the slur hurled at him was “Chinese” is not incidental. It draws from a jingoistic ultra-nationalist narrative sharpened by recent India-China tensions. Equally relevant is the fact that the northeast remains an unknown realm for many.

Ringed by Tibet-China, Myanmar and Bangladesh along 98 per cent of its borders, the northeast is connected to the rest of India by a narrow 2 per cent land corridor often called the Chicken’s Neck—a term that underlines the rather tenuous linkage.

But the vulnerability is not so much geographical as it is psychological. Distinctive facial features, dress, strong tribal bonds, food habits, heavily accented Hindi—all become markers of the “other”. After nearly eight decades of nationhood, many Indians have failed to appreciate the ethos of coexistence, of trying to understand diverse cultures, peoples and ways of life that are different from theirs. With every act of racial violence, the idea of ‘unity in diversity’ loses another fig leaf, exposing an uncomfortable shame.

Before Chakma, there was Nido Tania, 20, of Arunachal Pradesh, who was killed by a mob in Delhi in 2013. A year later, Akha Shalouni from Manipur died in the capital. She was 29.

Between these deaths, and countless incidents before and after, people from the northeast have been abused, assaulted, humiliated, and in some cases, killed. All because they looked different, dressed differently and ate differently.

Madan Prasad Bezbaruah, former Union tourism secretary, described Chakma’s killing as “another sad incident” that fuels the feeling of alienation “which over the years was slowly receding”. Bezbaruah was head of the Union home ministry committee formed in 2014 after Tania’s death, mandated to address racial discrimination, targeted violence, police insensitivity, legal gaps and cultural alienation faced by people from the northeast.

“The committee looked more at the positive side—how to make the rest of the country understand that the northeast is different, and that difference is a cause for celebration and not to build barriers,” he told THE WEEK. “All the recommendations were neatly summarised and categorised for short-, medium- and long-term action.”

They included making racially motivated acts cognisable and non-bailable offences, sensitising law enforcement agencies, providing legal aid, expanding northeast representation in textbooks, and promoting cultural exposure.

A monitoring panel was set up to oversee the implementation of the committee’s recommendations. But most members of the panel now feel that actions have been delayed. “The mandate was largely adequate and well designed,” Joram Maivio, a member of the monitoring committee, told THE WEEK. “But it lacked clear accountability mechanisms, timelines, and strong enforcement provisions.”

The causes of racial prejudice against people from the northeast are layered. Historically, large parts of the northeast had long been isolated since colonial times. As a result, there has been an acute lack of awareness about the region and its peoples. Prolonged insurgencies also contributed to the region’s “remoteness”, hindering development and creation of employment opportunities. More recently, migration of youth from the northeast to urban India—particularly into service and hospitality sectors—has added a socioeconomic dimension, where competition over scarce resources fuels resentment.

Without doubt, a lot needs to be done.

A good beginning would be to take stock of the implementation of the Bezbaruah committee’s recommendations with a white paper listing action taken against each recommendation. “The anti-racial discrimination law has to be enacted,” Maivio said. “Northeast cells, helplines, and special units should be set up in major metro cities. The issue is no longer policy design, but political will and accountability.”

from-unnao-to-bilkis-bano-is-the-judiciary-becoming-reactive-to-public-pressure

Sat Jan 17 12:57:24 IST 2026

The moment came quietly, as such moments often do in courtrooms. When the Delhi High Court suspended the sentence of Kuldeep Singh Sengar, the former BJP legislator convicted in the Unnao rape case, the order itself ran to just a few pages. It cited appellate discretion, procedural considerations and the familiar legal language of suspension pending appeal.

Outside the courtroom, however, the reaction was anything but procedural. Women’s groups expressed disbelief. Activists spoke of betrayal. Senior lawyers questioned how a man convicted in a case that had come to symbolise state complicity and institutional failure could walk free. Television debates turned shrill. Social media hardened into outrage.

What transformed concern into crisis was timing. The order came just before the winter recess, raising the possibility that Sengar could remain out of prison for weeks before the Supreme Court reopened. For many, that possibility was intolerable. The legal system, they feared, had blinked again.

Within days, the Supreme Court intervened. In an extraordinary move during vacation, a special hearing was convened. A three-judge bench led by Chief Justice Surya Kant stayed the High Court’s order. The intervention was swift, decisive and deeply revealing.

Yogita Bhayana, a Congress worker who was among those leading protests in Delhi, said public mobilisation was necessary to force institutional attention to a deeper pattern of impunity. “This is not just the story of one survivor,” Bhayana told THE WEEK. “We are seeing case after case where allegations of sexual violence involve powerful people. When the accused holds influence, the system often moves only after public pressure.” She said the protests played a catalytic role in pushing investigative agencies to act. “Our demonstrations ensured that the issue did not remain confined to legal files. The CBI moved to challenge the Delhi High Court order in the Supreme Court only after the matter drew wider attention.”

Bhayana linked the outrage over Unnao to a broader public unease over how cases involving sexual violence are handled when political connections are involved. She cited the case of Ankita Bhandari, the 19-year-old receptionist who was murdered in 2022 at a resort in Rishikesh after allegedly resisting pressure to provide “special services” to guests. “Here, too, the accused included individuals with political proximity. Without sustained attention, such cases risk fading from public memory even before accountability is fixed.” She said protests were not meant to substitute the judicial process but to ensure it functioned without complacency. “The courts remain the final arbiter, but public conscience often acts as the first alarm.”

This was not merely an appellate correction. It was judicial firefighting, triggered by a collapse of public confidence. The sequence was unmistakable: an order, followed by outrage, followed by correction. That sequence now defines a growing number of high-profile moments in India’s higher judiciary. Critics describe this as the age of the course-correcting court. Defenders call it constitutional humility in real time.

Judicial reversals are not new. Appeals and reviews exist precisely because courts acknowledge fallibility. What is new is speed.

Interim orders today reshape public life instantly. The distance between order, consequence and correction has collapsed. Traditionally, interim relief was meant to be modest, to preserve the status quo, prevent irreparable harm and buy time until final adjudication. Increasingly, however, interim orders now do what final judgments once did. They halt legislation, compel executive action and redraw legal and moral boundaries.

This expansion carries obvious risk. Interim orders are often passed on urgency without complete pleadings, without full factual records and without extended deliberation. Yet their effects are immediate and, in practice, often irreversible. When such orders later prove unsustainable, courts face an unenviable choice. Persist and risk compounding the error. Or correct course and face accusations of retreat.

Either way, the reputational cost is real. Few cases illustrate both the necessity and the cost of correction as starkly as the Bilkis Bano remission case.

In 2022, the Supreme Court permitted the Gujarat government to consider remission for the 11 convicts. Once the government cleared the remission, public outrage erupted over survivor justice, jurisdictional error and constitutional morality. Civil society groups argued that the court had been misled on facts. Legal scholars questioned how executive discretion had overridden principles of equality and fairness.

Only after this sustained national reaction did the Supreme Court revisit the issue. In 2024, it quashed the remission, acknowledging that it had been misinformed while issuing the earlier order. Legally, the correction was sound. Institutionally, the damage had already been done. The perception lingered that justice had arrived only after protest, that law had followed outrage.

Social activist Anjali Bhardwaj, who led protests for Bilkis Bano, said the remission granted to the convicts and its subsequent overturning by the Supreme Court highlighted the institutional cost of incomplete disclosures before constitutional courts. “The Supreme Court later recorded that certain facts placed before it earlier were either distorted or selectively presented,” said Bhardwaj. “Had the complete and accurate factual position been disclosed at the outset, the court may never have permitted the remission process to begin. When courts are compelled to revisit decisions because they were not given the full picture, enormous judicial time and energy are wasted. More importantly, public confidence takes a hit, even when the final outcome restores justice,” she said, adding that the episode underlined the responsibility of governments to assist courts with candour, not strategy, especially in cases involving constitutional rights and survivor justice.

The long-running litigation on the Aravalli Range tells a similar story on a broader policy canvas. Over the years, the Supreme Court adopted an expansive approach to environmental protection, treating vast areas as deemed forests and imposing sweeping restrictions on mining and construction across Haryana and Rajasthan in its interim orders. Environmentalists welcomed the firmness. The intent, to save one of India’s oldest mountain ranges, was unimpeachable.

But the interim orders had unintended consequences. Entire villages found themselves unable to build homes. Infrastructure projects stalled. Routine land use slipped into legal limbo. State governments warned of paralysis. Industry flagged economic fallout.

Only after resistance mounted did the court begin to recalibrate, clarifying scope, carving out exceptions and urging executive agencies to develop phased regulatory frameworks. “Courts intervene because regulation fails,” said environmental policy expert Rahul Verma. “But judicial orders are blunt tools in areas that need negotiated transitions. When livelihoods are disrupted overnight, resistance is inevitable. Pull-back is not weakness; it is realism. The tragedy is that realism arrives late.”

Even seemingly apolitical cases now follow the same arc. As reports of dog-bite cases rose, especially involving children and the elderly, early judicial observations leaned towards public safety. Sterilisation-only approaches were questioned. Municipal accountability was emphasised. In many cities, these remarks were read as judicial sanction for aggressive removal drives. Animal welfare groups reacted with fury. Social media framed the issue as cruelty versus compassion. Municipal authorities froze, caught between judicial signals and public anger.

Only after sustained backlash did the court clarify that there was no approval for indiscriminate culling and that sterilisation and vaccination remained the legal framework.

Another example of judicial course correction played out amid dust and debris. As state governments across the country began using demolition drives—often after communal violence—as a tool of swift punishment, petitions poured into the Supreme Court. Initially, the response was cautious. As state governments assured legality, the demolitions continued.

Then came cases like Jahangirpuri in Delhi and Khargone in Madhya Pradesh, where demolitions followed immediately after communal clashes. Images of families standing outside flattened homes forced the issue into national consciousness. Only then did the Supreme Court step in more firmly. It ordered status quo, questioned the timing and selectivity of demolitions and later laid down that property could not be demolished as a form of retribution without due process.

To many affected families, the intervention came too late. Homes had already fallen. Lives had already been disrupted. Yet, within the Supreme Court, the moment marked a shift. Judges began explicitly stating that executive action, even in the name of law and order, could not bypass constitutional safeguards.

A crucial but under-discussed dimension of the course-correction debate lies in the relationship between High Courts and the Supreme Court. Many headline-grabbing reversals begin not at the apex court but at the High Court level. Interim orders passed under intense local pressure or urgency travel quickly to the Supreme Court through special leave petitions. By the time the apex court intervenes, the damage is often done. An accused has walked out of jail. A demolition has taken place. A policy has been frozen. Public opinion has hardened.

For more than half a century, Section 124A of the then Indian Penal Code, sedition, sat uneasily within India’s constitutional framework. Courts repeatedly narrowed its scope, insisting it applied only to speech that incited violence or public disorder. Yet, on the ground, the provision continued to be used against students, journalists, activists and political critics for speech that was inconvenient rather than dangerous. High Courts granted relief in individual cases. The Supreme Court reiterated limiting principles. But the law itself remained operational. Arrests continued. Prosecutions dragged on. The gap between constitutional doctrine and everyday policing widened.

Facing multiple petitions challenging sedition’s constitutionality, the Union government informed the court that it was reconsidering the provision. At that point, the Supreme Court took an unprecedented step. Instead of waiting for legislative reform or delivering a final judgment, it ordered that sedition prosecutions be effectively put on hold. No new cases were to be registered. Existing cases were to be kept in abeyance.

By the time sedition was effectively frozen, hundreds had already faced arrest, prolonged trials and reputational harm. The pause protected future speech, but it could not undo past suffering. Still, institutionally, the move mattered. It showed a court willing to step back and say: this framework is no longer working as intended.

The sedition episode captures the essence of the course-correcting court. The judiciary did not reverse any order. It reassessed an entire posture, moving from case-by-case restraint to systemic pause. The Supreme Court then slips into a firefighting role. Staying a High Court order becomes less about doctrinal disagreement and more about damage control. The optics, however, are unforgiving. High Courts feel second-guessed. The Supreme Court looks reactive. The public sees inconsistency rather than hierarchy.

For all its contradictions, the judiciary remains the last refuge for individuals confronting the state. For prisoners seeking liberty, minorities seeking protection and citizens resisting arbitrary power, courts are not abstract institutions. They are lifelines. That moral authority rests not just on outcomes but on process, on restraint, deliberation and the confidence that courts will not decide first and think later.

Senior constitutional lawyer Ashwani Dubey put it bluntly: “What worries me is not that courts correct themselves. It is that correction increasingly follows outrage rather than legal maturation. That teaches litigants a dangerous lesson that persuasion happens outside the courtroom.” He said structural overload played a role. “Judges are deciding emotionally charged cases in compressed hearings. When records are thin, moral instinct fills the gap and later has to be reined in.”

Across these cases runs a quieter truth. Courts do not investigate. They decide on what is placed before them. When governments file evasive affidavits, when data is selectively produced and when affected parties lack time or access, courts act on partial information. Interim orders are passed on urgency, sometimes on sketchy foundations. Public outcry, in this sense, does not create new law. It exposes missing facts. What appears as a U-turn is often the court finally seeing the whole picture. The real problem is sequencing. Interim orders move faster than institutions can absorb them. Correction follows noise, even when recalibration is principled.

The Indian judiciary today operates under unprecedented visibility—legal, political and moral. Every pause is scrutinised. Every correction is dissected. Whether this phase is remembered as one of constitutional maturity or creeping uncertainty will depend on whether courts can slow the cycle: order, outrage, reversal.

Until then, every interim order will be judged not only on law but on timing. And every correction will continue to be read not merely as justice but as response.

how-incomplete-facts-impact-supreme-court-judgments

Sat Jan 17 12:50:42 IST 2026

EVERY CONSTITUTIONAL COURT has its limits. It can decide only on what is placed before it. Judges do not go out looking for facts. They do not roam the public domain or piece together competing narratives on their own. They rely on what lawyers bring to the courtroom.

If that material is incomplete, selectively presented or framed in a way that leaves out inconvenient facts, even the most careful court can be led to a result it may not otherwise have reached. That is where the Supreme Court’s review jurisdiction becomes important.

The Supreme Court has never claimed to be infallible. Review exists because mistakes do happen. Sometimes an error is obvious on the face of the record. Sometimes a material fact was genuinely not known to the court, despite due diligence. At other times, the real impact of an order becomes clear only after it is implemented. Review, in that sense, is a limited but necessary corrective exercise.

At the same time, Supreme Court judgments are meant to bring finality. People plan their lives, governments frame policy and institutions take decisions on the assumption that the law has been settled. If every judgment were endlessly reopened, legal certainty would disappear. The court, therefore, has to strike a careful balance between correcting serious error and preserving finality.

This tension is felt most strongly in cases that have wide public consequences. A solution that appears narrow at first can end up having consequences far beyond what the bench may have anticipated.

In such cases, incomplete factual disclosure can be especially problematic. Sometimes, after an order is passed, media scrutiny and public debate bring to light facts that should ideally have been placed before the court earlier. When that happens, judges may reasonably feel that they did not have the full picture. And when the foundation is incomplete, course correction becomes unavoidable.

Problems arise when settled positions are unsettled without following the discipline laid down by the Constitution. If a two-judge bench has decided a matter and reconsideration becomes necessary, there are well-defined routes; review, reference to a larger bench or, in the rarest of cases, curative jurisdiction. When these paths are not followed carefully, uncertainty creeps in.

The recent debates around stray dog management orders show how this can happen. Parallel benches, looking at overlapping issues on partial records, can end up issuing directions that appear to pull in different directions. Often, the difficulty lies not in judicial inconsistency but in selective disclosure. Key data, previous proceedings or broader policy contexts are simply not placed before the court. The outcome, then, is confusion rather than clarity.

Judges are keenly aware of the pressures under which courts function. With thousands of cases listed every day, the process sometimes resembles a samudra manthan, where truth is expected to emerge from competing claims. But that process depends heavily on lawyers doing their duty. Full and fair disclosure is not a formality; it is central to justice. When it is lacking, the court’s task becomes infinitely harder.

Course correction, in the end, is not a sign of weakness. It is a recognition of reality. What matters is the willingness to acknowledge error and correct it, while still respecting the need for finality. In a constitutional system built on trust, that balance is not optional. It is essential.

Roy is a former justice of the Supreme Court.

As told to Kanu Sarda

bjp-vs-trinamool-parties-weaponise-voters-list-as-west-bengal-election-nears

Sat Jan 10 18:12:02 IST 2026

Buoyed by the recent win in Bihar, the BJP is eyeing a spillover in West Bengal, where again the SIR issue has occupied centre stage. Recently, Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Union Home Minister Amit Shah visited Bengal to launch the party’s campaign for the assembly elections, expected to be held in March-April.

Modi was scheduled to address the Hindu Matua community in Nadia district on December 20, but his helicopter could not land because of dense fog. He had to return to the Kolkata airport and addressed the crowd in Nadia virtually.

“I had said that the Ganga flows from Bihar to Bengal, and Bihar has shown the road to victory in Bengal and the way out of jungle raj,” he said.

The BJP has so far failed to unseat Mamata Banerjee; the Trinamool Congress has matched its aggression time and again. However, this year, the BJP hopes that the issue of identity could help it win the state. In October, the Election Commission announced a Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of the voters list. As many as 58 lakh voters were left out of the draft list released on December 16.

The day after Modi’s speech, Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh chief Mohan Bhagwat reached Kolkata for the organisation’s centenary celebrations. During the event, Suvendu Adhikari, the BJP’s leader in the legislature, asked him about “increasing Islamic fundamentalism”. He answered: “It is for the Central government to decide whom to allow into India from Bangladesh.”

Later, Shah, during his visit to the state, met key party leaders including former BJP state president Dilip Ghosh, who had been sidelined for a while. Apparently, Shah told his leaders to set aside their differences and work in tandem to win the elections.

The same day, Chief Minister Banerjee hit out at Shah at a rally in Bankura district. “If infiltrators only exist in Bengal, then who was behind the recent attack in Pahalgam?” she asked. “Who is responsible for the explosion in Delhi? Which ministry is responsible for infiltration?”

Trinamool general secretary Abhishek Banerjee, who met Chief Election Commissioner Gyanesh Kumar in Delhi on December 31, said, “There is selective targeting and allegations of infiltration to malign West Bengal. We asked the CEC to come out with a list showing how many Bangladeshis or Rohingyas have actually been found in the state.”

Clearly, both parties are using the SIR as fuel for fiery speeches from podiums. There is, however, also a human cost attached to the exercise.

There was anxiety, anger and helplessness at the Hakimpur border check post in North 24 Parganas district in West Bengal, where a number of people waited for their return to Bangladesh.

“I heard that Bangladeshis will be sent to jail. We do not have documents. I did not try to get documents because my parents are no more,” said Kohinoor Bibi, a 50-year-old widow waiting at the Hakimpur check post, hoping the Border Security Force would send her back to Bangladesh without delay.

Kohinoor had come with her 18-year-old son to Dakshineswar, on the outskirts of Kolkata, for treatment of her diabetes and kidney problem. The Hakimpur check post had seldom seen Bangladeshis wanting to return home.

“People fear they will be jailed if they do not cross the border now,” said Montu Mondol, an Indian autorickshaw driver who lives near the check post. “A three-year-old child fell ill while waiting here, and we villagers gave it food and medicines.”

Kohinoor’s son, Alamin Gazi, who was a labourer in Dakshineswar for three years, hopes to find work in his hometown of Shyamnagar in Bangladesh. “We are going back,” Gazi said. “Otherwise we might be fined and put in jail for two years.”

Jehangir Alam, a house painter, waited at the check post with his wife and daughters, age two and 10, hoping to return to Satkhira in Bangladesh with BSF help. The family had lived near Kolkata for five years. “People there were good to me. If possible, I will get my passport and return to India legally,” said Alam, who fears starvation without a job in Bangladesh. He recounted the story of his cousin who died of starvation in Bangladesh five years ago.

“If you do not get food for one week, you will steal or even murder,” said Gazi. “But I did not do so. I came here out of desperation, and I have brought my wife and children to this border post. I had not known which post to go to, but I somehow managed to come here.”

The BJP had said early October that the SIR would purge one crore illegal voters from the rolls. “There have been 13 lakh deaths and 16 lakh double or triple entries in the voters list,” said Suvendu Adhikari. “So, 29 lakh names will be deleted on the very first day of the SIR. Then there are Bangladeshi Muslims, Rohingyas and fake voters.”

The BJP has often accused the Trinamool Congress of shielding illegal immigrants in West Bengal, who allegedly procure fake Indian identity documents and vote for the ruling party. Illegal Bangladeshi presence in India had a sudden spurt last year, after prime minister Sheikh Hasina fled the country during a student uprising.

India has often seen an inflow of Matua Hindus who fear persecution in Bangladesh or simply want to join their brethren who have a substantial presence in the North 24 Parganas and Nadia districts of West Bengal. An important temple of the Matuas is in Thakurnagar, in the North 24 Parganas. Called Thakurbari temple, it pays reverence to Harichand Thakur, a social and religious reformer who founded the Matua Mahasangha in the 19th century. The community was formed to respectfully accommodate the Namasudras, who were outcasts.

Both the BJP and the Trinamool have Matua members in Parliament and have offered support to Matuas who do not have proof of Indian citizenship.

Mamata Banerjee took her SIR protest rally from Kolkata to the Matua heartland near Thakurbari in November. She said: “The public elects a government, but now the system is changing. Now the Election Commission will decide who gets to choose the government. It is supposed to be an impartial body, not the BJP’s commission.”

She clarified that her government did not hinder the SIR. “We have only demanded that no genuine voter’s name is deleted,” she clarified.

Litton Rai, a resident of Thakurnagar, pointed out that many Mautas did not have any of the documents that the Election Commission has listed as proof of citizenship. “Why should the SIR happen this way?” he wondered.

Around 17 per cent of 7.6 crore voters in the state are Matua. While the BJP has consolidated its Matua vote bank, the Trinamool seeks to portray itself as the new Matua saviour. Help desks were set up in Thakurnagar, with volunteers assisting Matuas to obtain ‘Hindu minority’ identity cards.

Bisho Swapan Sarkar, a farmer with a family of seven, entered India through the mangrove forests of the Sundarbans 22 years ago. “I have come to the help desk to get my Hindu minority card to prove I am a citizen of this area,” he said. He has a PAN card, Aadhaar card and ration card but not a voter ID card. “Those who paid money could get it,” he said. “But we are poor.”

Anandi Biswas, another Matua, said the SIR would result in the Matuas getting legal voting rights. “The problem is with Muslims entering the country illegally,” he said. “Bangladesh is a Muslim country. Why are they coming here? Let them stay in their country.”

Biswas said his family was forced out of Bangladesh: “We came to India to save our honour. But many of us could not get valid documents here.”

Beyond the religious divide, the central question remains: which immigrants have attained legal Indian citizenship, and how will the Election Commission segregate genuine voters from illegal voters?

Both Muslim and Hindu minority communities are anxious about their future, with the SIR emerging as an existential crisis in a land they have come to call home.

passive-euthanasia-in-india-can-supreme-court-offer-merciful-end-to-harish-rana

Sat Jan 03 12:28:20 IST 2026

In the mornings, the house smelled of tea and toast. By afternoon, there was the rustle of textbooks being rifled through. The evenings were the loudest. The television would be on, the kitchen would be alive with the clang of vessels, and three siblings would be speaking at once, arguing, laughing.

Nirmala Rana knew exactly who would come home first, who would ask for food, and who would disappear into their room. Ashok would return from work, take off his shoes, open the newspaper and call out to his children one by one, asking how their day had been.

Harish, the eldest, moved through the house with quiet authority. He was disciplined, strong and ambitious—a final-year civil engineering student who spoke of site work and gym routines with equal seriousness. Ashish, younger by several years, followed him around, learning without asking. Their sister, the youngest, balanced studies and household work, navigating expectations that were never spoken aloud. It was a simple middle-class home in Delhi—a 25-year-old house built through years of savings and patience. A house where the future felt predictable, even secure.

That life ended on August 20, 2013.

The phone rang at 7.21pm. Harish had fallen from the fourth-floor balcony of his rented room near Panjab University in Mohali. By the time Ashok and Nirmala reached the hospital, he had already undergone emergency brain surgery. Doctors spoke in careful, technical terms: severe neurological damage, extensive trauma and irreversible injury. One sentence stayed with them the longest—the nervous system had dried up.

In the following weeks, they slept on the floor at PGIMER Chandigarh, took turns sitting outside the ICU, and learned to read medical charts and monitor screens. When there was no improvement even after two months, Harish was moved to AIIMS, Delhi. Machines changed, medicines were adjusted and the doctors did their best. Soon, though, the word ‘recovery’ disappeared from conversations. Harish was in a vegetative state.

In the next few years, medical bills piled up and they had to sell the house and move to a smaller, rented place in Raj Nagar, Ghaziabad.

At the centre of their lives now is a 6×4 ft room. Harish’s bed occupies most of it.

Every morning begins the same way. Nirmala wakes at dawn. She washes her son’s face gently, wets his lips, checks the feeding tube, and straightens his arms and legs as she has done thousands of times. She smoothens the bedsheet and speaks to him about the weather, medicines that have run out and visitors who may or may not come.

Sometimes Nirmala scolds him lightly; for a fleeting moment, this allows her to pretend he can hear, argue back, still be present.

“I carried him for nine months,” she says, still facing the bed. “Now I am saying I want him to be free. A mother should never have to say this.”

Harish cannot move or speak. He breathes through a tracheostomy tube and is fed through a gastrostomy tube. He needs help to relieve himself.

Nirmala remembers how he used to stand in front of the mirror, flexing his arms. “Dekho mere biceps (look at my biceps),” he would say, asking her to prepare protein-rich meals.

“Now,” she says, her voice breaking, “I prepare liquid food and pour it through a tube.”

Ashok sits quietly nearby, counting the day’s earnings. He used to work for a catering company, but is now retired. He gets Rs3,600 as pension every month. To keep his son alive, he sells sandwiches at cricket grounds.

Harish’s care costs nearly Rs25,000 a month, including medicines, physiotherapy and nutritional supplements. Often, something essential to the home has to wait.

Their younger son, Ashish, is the family’s backbone. He feeds his brother, cleans him, turns him over every few hours to prevent bedsores, watches for infections, and studies his blinks. His own life is on pause.

Their sister is married and lives nearby. She visits often and helps when she can, but the daily weight of care rests on Ashok, Nirmala and Ashish.

At times, Ashok leans close to Harish and says, “You are a brave boy.”

Harish blinks.

In July 2024, Ashok did something no parent wants to do—he approached the Delhi High Court seeking permission for euthanasia. The plea was declined.

The court said that as Harish was not on ventilator support, there was no case for passive euthanasia (withdrawing life-sustaining treatment). Removing the feeding tube would amount to active euthanasia, which is illegal in India. The Ranas, though, argue that in Harish’s case, the artificial feeding serves as life-sustaining treatment and hence qualifies for withdrawal under passive euthanasia law.

“Maa ke liye mrityu maangna chhoti baat nahi hoti (For a mother, asking for death is not a small thing),” says Nirmala. “Par aisi zindagi ka kya fayda (But what is the point of such a life)?”

Years of care had exhausted most of their resources. “This was not about wanting our son to die,” says Ashok. “It was about not being able to keep him alive like this any more. We were forced into court not because we wanted to let go but because we could no longer hold on.”

Their lawyer, Manish Jain, remembers the moment clearly. “By the time they came to us,” he says, “they had crossed every personal threshold. This petition was born out of compulsion, not choice.”

The family then approached the Supreme Court, which declined the euthanasia request, but directed the Uttar Pradesh government to extend medical support. On paper, the relief was substantial. In practice, it was fragile. Feeding tubes were often unavailable. Medicines ran out. Prescriptions had to be arranged privately.

“There are days when the doctor writes a prescription, but the medicine is not there,” says Ashok.

In 2025, they went to the apex court again, which told the Noida district hospital to set up a primary medical board to assess the situation. It later asked AIIMS to set up a secondary medical board for further evaluation.

The boards recorded intact brainstem function but total dependence on external support for feeding, posture and bodily functions. They reported that Harish’s condition had deteriorated and that the chances of recovery were negligible. “It’s a very sad report,” the court said. “And it will be a big challenge for us also. But we can’t keep the boy like this for all time to come.”

In India, assisted dying—the intentional act of causing death through a lethal injection or similar means—is illegal. It attracts criminal liability under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, either as murder or culpable homicide. A doctor assisting such an act would face charges of abetment to suicide.

Passive euthanasia is different. The distinction lies in action and omission. Stopping life support allows the underlying illness to take its natural course. The constitutional basis for this distinction lies in Article 21—the right to life and personal liberty—which the Supreme Court has interpreted to include the right to live with dignity.

When life is ending and medical intervention only prolongs suffering without hope of recovery, the court has held that dignity may lie in allowing death to occur naturally. In such a case, death is treated as a result of the disease or injury, and not because of the withdrawal of treatment.

India has no comprehensive statute governing end-of-life decisions. In that vacuum, courts have been forced to build safeguards, step by step. The judicial journey began with Aruna Shanbaug vs Union of India (2011).

Shanbaug, a nurse, had been sexually assaulted in 1973 and was in a vegetative state for decades. She breathed without a ventilator, responded to stimuli and was cared for lovingly by nurses at KEM Hospital in Mumbai. She could not be called dead, the court said.

However, the court did recognise that the right to live with dignity might, in limited circumstances, include the right of a dying person to a dignified death. Assisted dying was prohibited, but passive euthanasia could be permitted.

In the absence of legislation, the court laid down interim guidelines. Withdrawal of life support required the consent of family or next friend, approval by doctors acting in the patient’s best interest, and judicial oversight by a High Court.

This framework was revisited in Common Cause vs Union of India (2018). A Constitution bench held that the right to die with dignity was an inseparable facet of Article 21. Withdrawal of life-sustaining treatment was upheld as merely accelerating the conclusion of a natural process already underway. The court also recognised Advance Medical Directives, allowing individuals to record their wishes regarding refusal or withdrawal of medical treatment.

The safeguards, however, proved nearly impossible to implement. The advance directives had to be signed by witnesses and countersigned by a judicial magistrate of the first class. Multiple medical boards were required. The collector was involved. Magistrates had to visit patients. In reality, hospitals and families were paralysed by procedure.

In 2023, the Supreme Court acknowledged that its own framework had created insurmountable obstacles. It simplified the process. Advance directives could be attested before a notary or gazetted officer and stored digitally. Hospitals would constitute two medical boards, with doctors having at least five years’ experience. The collector’s role was removed. Magistrates only needed to be informed, not involved. If boards refused permission, families could still approach the High Court.

However, Harish’s case exposes the tension between law and life. A bench of Justices J.B. Pardiwala and K.V. Viswanathan has said that it wants to personally speak to Harish’s parents before taking a decision. This signals that the case is not just about medical reports, but also lived reality. The court now has to decide whether dignity, as promised by Article 21, can meaningfully reach families trapped in endless waiting.

Back in the small room in Ghaziabad, the Ranas are glued to Harish’s bedside. “We want his organs to be donated,” Ashok says quietly. “If he cannot live like a human being, then at least we should be able to see him live in someone else’s body.”

This thought has taken years to form. “Maybe someone else will walk,” he says. “Maybe someone’s child will breathe. Then we will feel that Harish is still somewhere in this world.”

Time has altered the family’s relationship with hope. In the early years, hope was loud and demanding. It came in the form of doctors’ reassurances, experimental medicines, new physiotherapy routines and the belief that youth itself might pull Harish back. Over time, that kind of hope exhausted itself.

What replaced it was something quieter. Now, hope exists in smaller, more fragile forms. It is the absence of infection. A day without fever. A feeding tube that does not clog. A bedsore that does not worsen. Survival has become incremental, measured not in milestones but in hours that pass without crisis. For Nirmala, hope is sometimes as simple as Harish remaining comfortable through the night. “Aaj shaant tha (today he was peaceful),” she says on such mornings.

Age weighs heavily on Ashok. He worries not just about money, but about time, his own failing strength, Nirmala’s health, and the unspoken question of what happens to Harish when they are no longer around.

In this suspended existence, the family’s plea is not a demand, but rather an appeal for closure and dignity. They are not asking the law to choose death. They are asking it to acknowledge life as they are living it.

Nirmala once again adjusts the bedsheet around her son’s body. “Bas dard na ho (just let there be no pain),” she whispers.

she-was-a-fighter-the-untold-story-of-aruna-shanbaugs-life-and-care

Sat Jan 03 12:16:50 IST 2026

For 30 years, I took care of Aruna Shanbaug at KEM Hospital. When people speak of her today, they often reduce her life to a legal milestone or a moral debate on euthanasia. But to us nurses, Aruna was never a case. She was a fragile human, expressive in her own way, and deeply responsive to care.

I retired seven years ago, but my memories of Aruna remain vivid. Caring for patients in a vegetative state requires patience, compassion and commitment. Care is the keyword. Without it, medicine becomes mechanical. With it, even the most silent patient can feel dignity.

In Aruna’s case, the nurses were her backbone. We volunteered to care for her, not because it was easy, but because it was necessary. Despite being bedridden and unable to communicate in conventional ways, she was always kept clean, comfortable and protected. Not once did she develop bedsores.

Aruna was a fighter. She would cry when she needed something, and over time, we began to understand her cues. She was alert in her own way, responsive to familiar voices, touch and routine. Those who believe patients like her are absent from the world around them misunderstand the quiet language of such lives.

Today, when euthanasia is discussed in similar cases, I feel compelled to speak from experience. These patients need more care, not less. There are foster homes and long-term care facilities available now, which were not common in Aruna’s time.

Ending a life should never become a substitute for providing care. It is true that families suffer emotionally and financially. Their pain must be acknowledged. But the answer lies in strengthening care-giving systems, not in giving up on lives that continue to feel, respond and endure in ways we might never fully comprehend.

Velhal is former matron, KEM Hospital, Mumbai As told to Kanu Sarda

delhis-aqi-crisis-are-we-trusting-wrong-numbers-flawed-solutions

Sat Jan 03 12:11:20 IST 2026

This year, Delhi’s fight against pollution has seen everything: Chief Minister Rekha Gupta’s “AQI is a temperature” gaffe, the AAP’s Santa-fainting skit, protesters being sent to police custody, an unsuccessful cloud seeding experiment, talks of AI–enabled pollution management and water sprinkling wherever one looks. Everything—except breathable air.

The air, meanwhile, remains ‘poor’ or ‘very poor’—if not ‘severe’—its smell smoky and taste metallic, with the air quality index (AQI) even hitting the cap of 500, posing a serious health risk.

The BJP government in Delhi had allocated Rs300 crore in the 2025–2026 budget to curb pollution, and had earlier approved a dust-control proposal, which is set to cost Rs2,388 crore over the next decade. This is only the latest in a long line of plans rolled out by successive governments—from expanding metro networks to the more cosmetic odd-even rule under the AAP. Yet little has changed on the ground, prompting a question: Are the solutions part of the problem?

WHICH NUMBER TO TRUST?

There was a time when winter conversations revolved around the chill—how biting it was, but also a reward: a few months meant for being outdoors, exercising, picnicking, breathing easier in an otherwise tropical climate. But that winter no longer exists.

Today, stepping out during these months can itself be a health hazard. The conversations, meanwhile, have shifted—from the chill in the air to the air itself.

For instance, if you live in Delhi NCR, chances are you check the AQI at least once a day. AQI turns complex data on pollutants like PM2.5 (particulate matter smaller than 2.5 micrometres), PM10, ozone and carbon monoxide into a single number and category, making it easy for the public to understand local air quality. What you see, however, depends heavily on which monitor you refer to.

While the Central Pollution Control Board’s (CPCB) data and those of government-backed trackers like SAFAR don’t go beyond 500, private trackers like IQAir often report numbers well above 500, sometimes even breaching 1,000.

This raises questions: Which tracker can one trust? And does India’s official air monitoring truly reflect the health risks its citizens face?

Dr Gufran Beig, chair professor at the National Institute of Advanced Studies and founder-director of SAFAR, says that when the AQI grading was introduced in 2014, experts believed that a reading of 500 represented the worst possible air quality. “The idea was to cap it at 500 so as not to panic the public,” he explains. “However, recent evidence shows that... further deterioration in air quality continues to worsen health impacts.”

Manoj Kumar N., an analyst at the Centre for Research on Energy and Clean Air (CREA), which releases monthly ambient air quality snapshots, highlights why readings differ across trackers. “While the CPCB relies on Beta Attenuation Monitors (BAMs) [which use beta radiation to directly measure particulate matter], private trackers like IQAir use sensors [these use lasers to estimate particle concentration from light scattering], hence the difference,” he says.

Although BAMs are considered more reliable for monitoring, experts say that India’s air quality standards, introduced in 2014, are outdated. “It would be a good practice to measure air quality beyond 500,” notes Kumar, “because pollutants like PM2.5 can harm health even at low concentrations.”

DIFFERING STANDARDS

Notably, India’s air quality standards, too, are lenient when compared globally. For instance, India considers PM2.5 levels up to 60µg/m³ as ‘satisfactory’, a limit four times higher than the World Health Organization’s recommended 15µg/m³.

“The WHO doesn’t provide standards but guidelines based on the latest health research. Every country, meanwhile, formulates and revamps its standards based on its internal data,” explains Beig. One oft-cited justification is that Indians, owing to the tropical climate and other hardships, are supposedly more adaptable.

But the reality is grimmer.

“PM2.5, a major component of air pollution, is classified by the WHO’s International Agency for Research on Cancer as a group 1 carcinogen, especially when it comes to the risk of lung cancer,” says Dr Ankit Jain, senior consultant at Apollo Cancer Centre, Delhi.

In his response in the Rajya Sabha, Minister of State for Environment Kirti Vardhan Singh said that while air pollution is one of the triggers for respiratory illnesses and associated diseases, “there is no conclusive data which establishes a direct correlation between higher AQI levels and lung diseases”.

Jain, however, points out that symptoms of lung or other cancers don’t appear immediately. “It can take 10–15 years for mutations to develop. So while the effects might not be visible now, in the next decade we can expect a surge not just in lung cancer, but also cancers of the head and neck, breast, prostate and bladder, with a direct link to pollution. Chronic respiratory and cardiovascular diseases will also mushroom,” he says.

According to the data shared by the Union government in Parliament in December, more than two lakh cases of acute respiratory illnesses were recorded in six state-run hospitals in Delhi between 2022 and 2024.

“So if we are really taking our health seriously as a nation, we cannot isolate ourselves by saying that in India this is allowed because we are used to this. I think we have to be stringent with the WHO guidelines,” says Jain.

Meanwhile, Beig argues that while India’s air quality standards need an update, “if you are not even able to comply with the existing standards, why make the stricter ones a priority. Let’s first achieve this and then go on to the next level”.

NOT ENOUGH MONITORS

While Delhi has the highest concentration of air quality monitors in the country, experts say placement matters just as much as numbers. “Readings are naturally higher in densely populated areas; put a monitor in a sparsely populated or peripheral location, and the numbers drop,” says Kumar.

Delhi has 48 air monitoring stations, including 38 Continuous Ambient Air Quality Monitoring Stations (CAAQMS) that provide real-time data. The CPCB sets guidelines for placement, such as at least 20m from trees and 50m from roads or highways, to ensure the data represents the area rather than a single pollution source.

Yet several stations flout these norms. The CAAQMS at ITO sits right beside the road; RK Puram’s station is inside a schoolyard with trees nearby.

Experts also point to a shortage of monitors, despite Delhi’s high concentration. CPCB guidelines call for at least 16 CAAQMS stations in a city of 5 million or more. With a population of 33 million, Delhi lacks 68 stations. Also, monitors are costly. “It can go up to 2 crore per CAAQMS station,” says Kumar.

LOOKING BEYOND DELHI’S BORDERS

While Delhi grabs headlines, NCR cities are just as bad, if not worse. Yet the focus on Delhi lets regional governments escape the scrutiny.

For instance, while Delhi has 38 CAAQMS, Gurugram in Haryana, despite rapid industrialisation and urban expansion, has only four. “Even those are positioned in ways that fail to capture the true picture,” says Arindam Datta, senior fellow at The Energy and Resources Institute (TERI).

Similarly, Ghaziabad in Uttar Pradesh has just four monitoring stations; air pollution here frequently reaches hazardous levels as per private trackers. Notably, Ghaziabad was the most-polluted in November, according to CREA’s air quality snapshot for the month.

“Policymakers of Delhi are focused on Delhi. They are not even concerned about what happens in Noida, or Gurugram,” says Beig.

Kumar adds that even if Delhi were to reduce its pollution to zero, the city would still remain polluted. “It is because a large part of it is coming from outside. It is what we call trans-boundary pollution.”

Here, Beig talks about the airshed approach, where a region is defined by common air movement. “Action should be taken within an airshed and not limited to boundaries,” he explains.

A DUSTY ROAD AHEAD

When one looks at the government’s response to tackling air pollution—be it water sprinkling, road sweeping or even cloud seeding—it is primarily aimed at controlling dust. Experts caution that these efforts may be missing the bigger picture. While such measures focus on larger dust particles, or PM10, the far more dangerous PM2.5 remains under-addressed.

“About 68 per cent of the National Clean Air Programme (NCAP) funds are being spent to mitigate dust, which is not at all the real solution,” says Kumar.

Beig points out why the focus remains so skewed. “PM10 is a measuring scale under NCAP, so your accountability is fixed to reduce PM10 and not PM2.5. If PM2.5 were the priority, water sprinkling and dust control would be secondary. The real focus would be on transport, biofuels in slums, industries and waste management.”

Even within dust control, the approach is narrow, adds Datta. “Most efforts target dust on the roads. But if you control dust at the source, like construction sites, you wouldn’t need to spend so much on mechanical sweepers and sprinklers,” he says.

COSTLY RAIN

If water sprinkling wasn’t enough, Delhi tried cloud seeding on October 28, hoping that artificial rain could ease the pollution. The trial was conducted by the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) Kanpur.

Cloud seeding works by releasing particles like silver iodide into clouds to trigger rainfall. This attempt, however, failed due to low moisture levels. The two trials on October 28 cost Rs60 lakh, while the Delhi government has allocated Rs3.21 crore for five such experiments this winter.

“Cloud seeding is an SOS measure—an imperfect solution. It is something we can use when pollution levels are extremely high,” says Manindra Agarwal, director, IIT Kanpur. “It has been very dry this time. The trials, however, have still provided data.”

Moreover, in his reply in Parliament on cloud seeding last year, MoS Singh, citing experts, had expressed reservations around the experiment.

Meanwhile, more cloud seeding trials are in the works in Delhi. “The IMD has predicted low cloud availability at the beginning of January, so we are looking forward to that,” says Agarwal.

TACKLING PROBLEM AT SOURCE

“Tackling pollution at source is the best way,” says Agarwal.

While stubble burning in Punjab and Haryana is routinely blamed for Delhi’s air crisis, experts stress that its impact is limited to a week or two each year. For the rest of the year, the pollution is largely home-grown.

Data backs this up. According to CREA’s monthly air quality snapshot for November, the contribution of stubble burning to Delhi’s pollution fell sharply, from 20 per cent last year to just 7 per cent this November. Yet, “20 of 29 NCR cities recorded higher pollution levels than the previous year,” notes Kumar. “This clearly shows that year-round sources—transport, industry, power plants and other combustion activities are the dominant drivers. Without sector-specific emission cuts, cities will continue to breach air quality standards.”

Transport, in particular, remains a major concern. Delhi has an enormous vehicular load—around 1.2 crore registered vehicles, including nearly 33.8 lakh private cars, according to the Delhi Statistical Handbook 2023.

“You cannot control PM2.5 levels if you ignore the transport sector,” says Datta.

The government has rolled out several measures, such as banning the entry of vehicles not meeting the Bharat Stage VI (BS-VI) emission standards from outside Delhi and making Pollution Under Control Certificates mandatory for refuelling. However, experts argue that these steps are undermined by the sheer scale of vehicular growth.

“Say, Delhi had one lakh BS-IV vehicles in 2018. Now, even if the vehicles are BS-VI-compliant, the total number has doubled,” Datta explains. “So while emissions per vehicle may have come down, the number of pollution sources has gone up. That’s where the problem lies.”

Then there is industrial pollution. “Polluting industries are required to report their emissions to the CPCB or the respective state pollution control boards. So the data already exists, and authorities know which industries are polluting,” says Kumar. “We also know which ones fall under the red category—power plants, steel plants and the like. If strong action is taken against these sectors, it can have a significant impact on pollution levels across the country.”

NO LONGER A DELHI PROBLEM

While attention continues to centre on Delhi-NCR, air pollution is increasingly a pan-India problem.

Despite being geographically better placed than Delhi, Kolkata frequently ranks among the world’s 10 most polluted cities, according to IQAir. And in its 2024 report, Byrnihat, a small industrial town on the Assam–Meghalaya border, was named the most polluted city globally.

Other metros such as Mumbai and Bengaluru also routinely grapple with toxic air. Beyond cities, the situation is no better. A recent study published in Environmental Science & Technology found that residents in Bihar breathe unhealthy air on nearly 90 per cent of days during the post-monsoon and winter months.

The findings make one thing clear: air pollution is no longer just Delhi’s problem. And, as experts repeatedly stress, tackling it at the source may be the only way forward.

caught-between-smog-and-starvation-the-plight-of-delhi-construction-workers

Sat Jan 03 12:02:22 IST 2026

IN KALYAN PURI in east Delhi, just a few kilometres from the affluent Noida, a quiet crisis is unfolding. In these dense slums and skeletal structures, women sit in hopeless silence while their men move desperately from one contractor to another, searching for a day’s work.

This is the human cost of the pollution lockdown. Since early November, when the Commission for Air Quality Management (CAQM) implemented the Graded Response Action Plan (GRAP), a majority of Delhi’s construction labourers—both skilled and unskilled—have been out of work.

Every morning, Sanjay Turah, 40, walks to the local ‘labour chowk’, waiting hours for a contractor who never arrives. A migrant from Bihar, he lives in a single room with his wife and four children. “It has been more than a month since GRAP was implemented, and we have been out of work,” Turah said. “We have no food, yet we are expected to pay Rs3,000 as rent. They say it doesn’t matter if you don’t eat, but the rent must be paid. So we don’t eat.”

Though GRAP measures are annual, this winter presents a grim shift. Despite all three tiers of government now being under BJP rule, there appears to be no effective plan to address pollution at its source—vehicular emissions—rather than penalising the construction sector.

The Rs10,000 compensation promised by Labour Minister Kapil Mishra is failing to reach those in need, as it is largely restricted to locals. Of the estimated 12 lakh labourers in Delhi, more than 80 per cent are non-residents.

Then there are other systemic hurdles. If a labourer works at a site in Noida (in Uttar Pradesh) or Gurgaon (in Haryana), the labour department’s online portal often refuses registration unless a Delhi-based site address is provided.

Delhi BJP chief spokesperson Abhay Verma said it was a process and all those registered with the Delhi government as labourers would receive the money. However, those facing technical issues with registration or those who are not yet registered will not get it, he said.

“The problem deepens with the requirement to provide contractor details. Contractors often refuse to share their name or phone number,” said Silvain Singh, a graduate working in rebar fixing. “If an officer calls for verification and the contractor doesn't respond, the registration is rejected.”

Unsurprisingly, the bureaucratic vacuum has invited corruption. Workers report being coerced by middlemen into paying between Rs1,000 and Rs2,000 for a registration process that officially costs Rs25. Parvinder Singh, a migrant labourer, said private shops charged Rs1,500 for renewals that take months to process. “We don’t know what is happening with our life. Unless there is a solution, we won’t have any money,” he said.

For some, the situation is even more dire. Chote Lal, 35, a migrant from Maharashtra, hasn't had a proper meal in three days. “I don’t have a labour card because I am not a resident of Delhi. For the past 15 days, I have been sleeping under a metro bridge,” he said.

For Delhi’s construction workers, the question is no longer when the air will clear, but how long they can survive the wait.

from-uphaar-cinema-to-goa-nightclub-how-india-continues-to-ignore-fire-safety-lessons

Sat Dec 27 13:09:27 IST 2025

Twenty-eight years is a lifetime in public policy. It is long enough to build institutions, correct mistakes and ensure that a tragedy never repeats. But in India, the Uphaar Cinema fire of 1997, which took 59 lives, has aged only in memory, no lessons learned. From a packed cinema hall in South Delhi to a crowded nightclub in Goa, the script remains eerily similar—illegal structures, missing fire clearances, blocked exits, delayed emergency response and promises made after tragedy.

What sets Uphaar apart is not just the magnitude of the tragedy, but the doggedness of those who would not let the system forget. After years of litigation, the Supreme Court in 2015 imposed a 60 crore fine on the Ansal brothers—Sushil and Gopal—who owned the cinema. The court directed that the money be used to create a trauma centre in Delhi. The logic was simple—had emergency trauma care been swift and specialised, many lives could have been saved.

After a decade of what looked like inaction, the Association of Victims of Uphaar Tragedy (AVUT) approached the apex court again. But, the Delhi government informed the bench it had already fulfilled the spirit of the order by setting up three hospitals. Its affidavit said the money, meant for a trauma centre in Dwarka, was spent on facilities at the Sanjay Gandhi Memorial Hospital in Mangolpuri, the Satyawadi Raja Harish Chander Hospital in Narela and the Siraspur Hospital. However, none of these hospitals is operational today.

Moreover, AVUT argued, none of them was a trauma centre. AVUT representative Neelam Krishnamoorthy told THE WEEK that a trauma centre was a specialised and time-critical facility. “Trauma centres integrate emergency medicine, surgery, burn care, neurology and rapid transport protocols in a way regular hospitals do not,” she said. “And that’s precisely why AVUT had insisted upon a trauma centre, and not a general hospital.”

During the Uphaar fire, victims were shunted from one hospital to another, wasting precious minutes. The tragedy highlighted how India’s capital lacked an integrated trauma response system. Almost three decades later, it is beside the point for the state to argue that there are hospitals. As AVUT argued in court, availability is not the same as preparedness, and proximity is futile without speed and specialisation.

Neelam’s husband, Shekhar Krishnamoorthy, also highlighted another aspect of the 2015 court order. “Land was supposed to be given by the then Delhi Vidyut Board [for the trauma centre], but it isn’t clear whether the land was given or not,” he said.

Indeed, the way AVUT has been systematically sidelined is telling. While it may have provided the moral and legal impetus behind the case, it was not consulted on the use of funds, nor did it feature in any planning.

For Neelam and Shekhar, who lost their children Unnati and Ujjwal in the fire, the struggle has stretched across 28 years of courtrooms, appeals, diluted sentences and administrative inertia. Justice came slow. Reform not at all.

That failure was laid bare in the Goa nightclub fire. The litany of violations revealed by the preliminary investigation—the lack of a valid fire NOC and working fire alarm or suppression system, inadequate emergency exits and escape routes—mark it as a textbook case of regulatory collapse.

To survivors and relatives of victims, the tragedy seems a result of negligence rather than an accident. “My brother worked there,” said Maria Fernandes—he died in the blaze. “He always said the place was overcrowded and unsafe. There were days when exits were blocked with furniture. We complained, but no one listened.” The owners of the club—Luthra brothers, Saurabh and Gaurav—have been arrested and cases registered for culpable negligence.

The Goa government has also ordered a statewide audit of nightclubs, bars and enclosed public venues, and sealed several establishments without valid fire clearances.

Safety activists point to how fire audits are conducted only after tragedies, as routine inspections remain sporadic. “The law is clear,” said a former fire safety official, who requested anonymity. “But enforcement is weak. Licences are renewed mechanically and violations overlooked until lives are lost.”

The relatives of the deceased said accountability should go beyond the venue owners. As the mourning continues in Goa, this fire has reopened an uncomfortable national conversation about public safety in places of entertainment. About the pattern: rules exist, warnings are ignored and compliance is enforced only after tragedy strikes.

To the families, justice will be more than arrests; it will mean a guarantee that no other evening of fun will result in death.

“Every time a tragedy of this nature occurs, I relive everything all over again,” said Neelam. “When we launched this fight, it was never only about justice for our children. It was to ensure no other parent loses a child simply because somebody decided to compromise on safety laws. No parent deserves to get their child’s body because they went out to watch a film or went out for an evening. I know the pain of living without your children.”

She added that they believed that if they could prevent even one such tragedy from occurring, it would be a true tribute to their children and a service to society. “We fought relentlessly, and the courts did lay down safety guidelines for cinema halls,” she said. “But my plea has always been that safety cannot stop there. Unfortunately, despite all these years, I feel we have failed in that larger mission. The lessons of Uphaar should have applied to every public space, not just cinemas.”

Fires in hospitals, coaching centres, commercial complexes and residential buildings across India continue to reveal the same truth: fire safety exists largely as paperwork.

After Uphaar, India rewrote building codes, strengthened fire norms and promised stricter inspections. But enforcement was never institutionalised. Fire departments remain understaffed. Inspections are routine rituals. Penalties are negligible. Criminal liability is rare.

Most important, there is no national trauma response framework that integrates fire safety, emergency transport and specialised care.

The Uphaar case also brought into sharp focus how the judicial system struggles to deal with mass negligence. While conviction was secured, sentences were softened progressively. Custodial punishment gave way to fines. Accountability thinned with each appeal. For future violators, the message was unmistakable: compliance is optional, consequences negotiable.

Uphaar should have been India’s fire safety watershed. Instead, it turned out to be a memorial without muscle. Meanwhile, new fires continue to add names to a list that should have frozen in 1997.

As long as trauma centres are substituted with general hospitals, inspections follow funerals and victims have to fight for decades to enforce court orders, tragedies like Goa will not be aberrations.

Twenty-eight years on, Uphaar’s lesson remains painfully intact, waiting for a system willing to finally learn it.

the-kamalesan-case-when-personal-beliefs-clash-with-military-tradition

Sat Dec 20 18:38:25 IST 2025

As a veteran who served as an officer in the Indian military for over 40 years, I find the recent case of Lieutenant Samuel Kamalesan, a Christian junior officer of the Protestant denomination, whose dismissal from the Indian Army was affirmed recently by the Supreme Court, somewhat perturbing, yet instructive. He was dismissed from service after being deemed a ‘misfit’ for refusing to enter a ‘regimental gurudwara’ along with his Sikh subordinates, in keeping with an important Army tradition of officers periodically attending prayers with their men. This episode forces us to examine the delicate balance between individual faith and collective duty in the Indian Army, an institution that consists of men and women of all castes, creeds and cultures, and defines itself as ‘secular’ in a deep and profound sense of the word.

Reportedly, Kamalesan insisted that his faith did not allow him ‘worshipping gods other than his own’. The primary question, therefore, was whether visiting the place of worship of another faith, whether to show respect or in a display of solidarity as in the Army, or to extend support during moments of joy or grief, as many of us are invited to do even in civilian life, was tantamount to being forced to worship ‘other gods’. Also, whether a military officer of a combat unit who is expected to influence his men positively and motivate them can afford to allow rigid interpretations of personal faith to come in the way of this primary duty.

At first glance, the notion of a secular Army might evoke images of religion being kept strictly private, outside the mess halls and barracks. But in the Indian Army, secularism has never meant exclusion of religious expression. Rather, it means equal respect for all faiths and a willingness, as officers, to embody that respect publicly when leading men of varied religions.

The Indian Army’s approach in this regard is not one of exclusion but of equal embrace, a sarva dharma sambhava ethos, as embodied in our Constitution and codified into regimental life. This is because the religion of troops is viewed not merely as a private individual affair. It is an essential ingredient in the psychological and emotional construct of a fighting Army unit where the officers show spiritual solidarity with those whom they lead in war and peace in the interests of performing their duties optimally, irrespective of their own religious persuasion.

Let me start with a snippet from my personal experience as a young officer. In mid-1975, after having been commissioned as a Second Lieutenant six months earlier, I reported to my battalion, a Gorkha battalion with troops who follow the Hindu faith, in Mizoram. At that time, Mizoram, a Christian majority Union territory, was facing an active insurgency, and my battalion was deployed as a network of company and platoon posts in its area of responsibility for counter insurgency operations. After a quick orientation over a few days at the battalion headquarters, I moved on foot to my ‘air maintained’ platoon post situated on a hill near a village in the rural interiors where I stayed for the next six months. For those six months, by day, I lived, dined, played and prayed with my platoon of about 35 men, while by night we carried out our operational duties.

As part of our daily routine, every evening after our volleyball game, I attended prayers in the makeshift platoon mandir where I led the aarti. What is important to note is that I did it not because I was commanded to do so. It was simply the natural thing to do, symbolic of my secular upbringing, schooling at a liberal Jesuit institution in Delhi, as well as the close bond between the officer and his command in the secular environs of the Indian military which I had experienced and imbibed during the four years of pre-commission training at the military academies.

Once I had settled into my counter insurgency duties, when possible, I would also attend Sunday service in the village church accompanied by some of my troops.

Twenty years later, in 1995, I once attended a ‘prayer parade’ in the form of Sunday service with Christian troops of a battalion of the Assam Regiment at Nasirabad, a cantonment town in Rajasthan. All officers of that battalion, whether Hindu, Sikh or Muslim, used to attend that Christian ‘prayer parade’ regularly. At that time, I was commanding another combat unit at the same station and attended ‘mandir parade’ regularly in a show of solidarity with my command.

This was the model we followed throughout our service, leading or joining prayers with our men while also following our personal faith in private or attending prayers in our places of worship. Hundreds of Christian officers have served successfully in combat units of the Army without allowing matters of faith to come in the way.

The Army has historically accommodated multiple faiths. Battalions, regiments, headquarters and regimental training centres maintain temples, gurudwaras, churches, mosques and sometimes a sarv dharm sthal, a common prayer hall intended to transcend individual religions and unify the unit.

The presence of such religious spaces is not for promoting any faith. It is for providing a place to pray in solidarity. When troops pray, perform rituals or recite war cries invoking their deities, these are symbolic acts of regimental identity, tradition and shared purpose. In such moments, faith becomes secondary to fraternity. The religion of the soldier temporarily becomes the religion of the unit and by extension the responsibility of its officers.

This is secularism in the Indian military context, not suppression of religion but its transcendence into a unifying, supra personal identity. The ‘uniform before faith’ ethic recognises that in war and service what binds men together is not shared creed but shared purpose.

When an officer dons the uniform, he does not merely lead. He becomes the embodiment of the battalion or regiment. In that role, personal faith cedes ground to collective unity. Participation in regimental rituals, whether at a temple, gurudwara, mosque, church or a sarv dharm sthal, is symbolic of an officer’s solidarity with his men. It signals that he is one of them. Multiple officers have noted that soldiers will follow an officer to the “ends of the earth” once they feel he is one of them.

For many soldiers, the sight of their commander standing with them in prayer becomes a powerful motivator, a reassurance of unity beyond doctrine. For the Hindu, Sikh, Christian or Muslim officer, it is not about changing his or her faith or worshipping ‘other gods’. It is about command presence, solidarity, showing respect and trust. Those intangibles, respect and trust between commander and commanded, are critical in combat when lives hang on cohesion and morale.

In Lieutenant Kamalesan’s case, the conflict between personal conscience and military duty came to a head. Commissioned in 2017 into the 3rd Cavalry Regiment of the armoured corps, he led a ‘tank troop’ of Bravo Squadron comprising Sikh troops. The regiment maintained a temple and a gurudwara reflecting the religious composition of its troops.

Kamalesan perceived that his Christian faith forbade him from entering the gurudwara and participating in religious rituals. While he did come to the outer area during religious parades, he refused to go inside. The Army counselled him. Even a Christian pastor reportedly advised that participation would not violate the doctrines of his faith. Yet he held firm in his perception.

In the view of the Army and later the courts, including the Supreme Court, this refusal was not a matter of faith but of gross indiscipline and breach of essential military ethos. The Supreme Court observed that the Army is a secular institution and the secularism it practises demands that officers respect the faith of their troops even if the faith differs from their own. The dismissal was upheld and the Court labelled the officer a “misfit”.

I believe the military’s secularism, as truly practised, transcends narrow arguments over faith. It places institutional unity, operational effectiveness and regimental cohesion above individual commitments pertaining to personal faith.

The Army’s regimental sarv dharm sthals, temples, gurudwaras, mosques and churches exist not for propagating religion or doctrinal supremacy but for spiritual solace, morale, solidarity and the forging of trust between men who might otherwise have little in common beyond the uniform. In that context, to treat religion rigidly as purely individual and refuse to share in the rituals of one’s men undermines that unity. It reduces faith to dogma rather than allowing it to become a bridge.

When a non Sikh officer stands in a Sikh gurdwara with his troops or a Hindu, Sikh or Muslim officer participates in a Christian prayer, it becomes a powerful testament to what the Army truly is, a living embodiment of unity in diversity. That is the secularism that needs to be cherished, not indifference, but inclusion, mutual respect and collective identity.

For all men and women in our forces who follow varied faiths, the Kamalesan case should be viewed not as a warning against believing but as a lesson in understanding secularism and religious harmony in the Indian context and the nature of service in the Indian military. When you don the uniform, you pledge loyalty not just to God but to the men you lead and to the flag that binds you. When you visit places of worship of other faiths in line with your military duties, you are not placing ‘other gods’ before your own. You still retain loyalty to your own faith. That loyalty may demand sacrifice even over personal religious preferences. But that is not sacrilege. It is the highest expression of faith, when belief does not become a barrier but a bond between you and your men, between faiths, between hearts.

Any officer who cannot make that sacrifice, who places interpretations of his personal faith over collective duty, may appear to remain true to his creed. But he may find himself unfit for the unique secular ethos of the Indian Army.

The writer was Vice Chief of the Indian Army.

vote-cutter-or-kingmaker-the-dual-role-of-owaisi-aimim-in-indian-elections

Sun Dec 21 15:25:41 IST 2025

When the Mahagathbandhan lost the recent Bihar assembly elections, the All India Majlis-e-Ittehadul Muslimeen, led by Asaduddin Owaisi, was cited as one of the key reasons for the defeat. The AIMIM contested 25 seats, mainly in the Seemanchal region, won five and was said to have contributed to the loss in 24 seats for the Mahagathbandhan. It was an almost exact replay of 2020, when Owaisi’s candidates won five seats in Seemanchal and polled enough votes in adjoining constituencies to influence the defeat of the Mahagathbandhan.

The AIMIM seems to have hurt the prospects of INDIA bloc parties earlier as well, in Maharashtra, West Bengal and Uttar Pradesh. In Maharashtra, the party was blamed for the loss of the Congress–NCP alliance in urban and semi urban Muslim belts in the 2014 and 2019 Lok Sabha elections. Its strength in Aurangabad, Malegaon and parts of Mumbai created three-way contests that helped the National Democratic Alliance. Even in 2024, when the AIMIM won only one seat, it fragmented opposition votes in several constituencies once considered safe.

The pattern is clear. The AIMIM does not need many victories to influence outcomes. It only needs to target constituencies where margins are narrow and minority vote consolidation is vital. The BJP often ends up benefiting indirectly, which gives credence to the Congress claim that Owaisi cuts into its votes and is, at times, the BJP’s B team. Yet this claim does not hold in Telangana, where the Congress openly courts Owaisi.

A clear example is the recent Jubilee Hills assembly byelection. The Congress depended on the AIMIM’s cadre mobilisation, which helped its candidate V. Naveen Yadav win with a margin of nearly 25,000 votes. Unlike in 2023, the AIMIM did not field a candidate. Instead, Owaisi campaigned with Yadav and the AIMIM’s booth level teams mobilised votes in Shaikpet, Jubilee Hills and Film Nagar—areas with a strong Muslim presence. In contrast, Mohammad Azharuddin lost Jubilee Hills in 2023 on a Congress ticket largely because the AIMIM was in the fray.

The AIMIM’s present behaviour is rooted in its past, says Syed Amin Ul Hasan Jafri, a three-time legislative council member of the party. He traces its origins to 1958 when Owaisi’s grandfather Abdul Wahid revived the AIMIM and faced suppression from chief minister Neelam Sanjeeva Reddy, who jailed him in 1962 and pressured him to disband the party. Once Reddy realised the AIMIM’s ability to counter communist influence in Hyderabad, he made peace. Owaisi’s father Salahuddin won Patharghatti the same year and the communists lost their hold on Hyderabad by 1967. This history shaped the AIMIM’s pragmatism, which is a willingness to work with larger parties without surrendering autonomy.

As the AIMIM expanded its network, successive ruling parties courted it because its sphere of influence is the state capital itself. Why would the party antagonise any ruling or opposition party? Jafri says the AIMIM never surrenders to any larger political force even as other political parties either try to pick on it or refuse to acknowledge it. This pattern has repeated. Although the Congress made peace with the AIMIM after 1962, it fielded home minister Ahmed Ali Khan against Salahuddin in the Charminar constituency in 1967, but lost. AIMIM leaders were jailed during the Indo-Pak wars. The Telugu Desam Party government under N.T. Rama Rao continued the antagonism. In the 1986 Hyderabad municipal corporation elections, Rama Rao tried to defeat the AIMIM by deploying all his MLAs in the Old City. But the AIMIM became the single largest party with 38 seats and took charge of the administration with Congress support.

The AIMIM continued with cooperation or opposition depending on how it was treated by other parties. It was part of the United Progressive Alliance but later distanced itself after differences with N. Kiran Kumar Reddy, the last chief minister of undivided Andhra Pradesh. After the Telangana Rashtra Samithi—now BRS—came to power in 2014, Owaisi extended his party’s support for two terms. Congress leader A. Revanth Reddy took a strong stand against the AIMIM before the 2023 assembly elections. But he called for a truce once he became chief minister, although the AIMIM had supported the BRS in the elections, which led to the Congress losing all 24 seats in the Greater Hyderabad Municipal Corporation region. This possibly pushed Revanth Reddy to work with the AIMIM. Later, the Congress supported the AIMIM’s nominee for the legislative council elections under the Hyderabad local bodies quota in March this year, and in turn, Owaisi ensured the Congress candidate’s victory in Jubilee Hills, the party’s first assembly seat in the GHMC area.

The Jubilee Hills victory could help the Congress improve its chances in the coming GHMC urban body elections, which may take place in the first half of 2026. The Congress believes that winning back the GHMC from the BRS would be seen as a validation of Revanth Reddy’s governance model. A stable friendship with the AIMIM may make this possible. Even if the Congress falls short of a majority, the AIMIM’s support could help it take control of the GHMC. Yet the Congress is cautious about acknowledging its cooperation with the AIMIM. The party’s chief spokesperson for Telangana, Sama Rammohan Reddy, says the cooperation in the Jubilee Hills bypoll is a one-off event and that it happened mainly because of Naveen Yadav’s earlier affiliation with the AIMIM and his closeness to Owaisi.

Afroz Alam, who teaches political science at the Maulana Azad National Urdu University, Hyderabad, says the AIMIM’s politics is no different from other parties in the secular fold. He says Owaisi has always tried to maintain peace with the Congress and other secular parties. In Maharashtra, the Congress allied with the Shiv Sena but refused to go with the AIMIM. In Bihar, the RJD and the Congress declined the AIMIM’s offer. After the last elections, AIMIM MLAs defected to the RJD. This time, Owaisi seems to have preempted them by announcing support for the Nitish Kumar government.

The AIMIM has had a fluctuating relationship with other parties since its inception, yet it has always played its hand skilfully. Its success can be credited to Owaisi, its president since 2008. When he took over, the party was confined to pockets of Hyderabad’s Old City. Over the past decade and a half, he has rebuilt it into a recognisable political force that influences elections in several states and shapes national debates far beyond its numerical strength. This transformation has come through organisational rebuilding, careful expansion strategies, ideological positioning and the cultivation of new supporters.

Owaisi’s first step was to consolidate the party’s home base. Before expanding elsewhere, he modernised neighbourhood committees in Hyderabad, strengthened its youth and student wings and built a volunteer corps capable of booth level mobilisation. Along with these structures, the AIMIM expanded a welfare network, including educational trusts, clinics, medical camps, flood relief teams and legal assistance groups, embedding the party deeply in local communities. This welfare system, along with longstanding ties with masjid committees, traders and neighbourhood leaders, provided a stable foundation on which Owaisi built his political project.

Although this organisational revival was limited to Hyderabad, Owaisi’s rise as a national figure came from his ability to articulate issues that mainstream parties often approach cautiously. With the Congress retreating from direct Muslim representation and the BJP consolidating majoritarian politics, Owaisi became one of the few leaders who speaks clearly on minority rights, citizenship laws, communal tensions and constitutional protections. His speeches circulate widely on social media and resonate with younger Muslim voters who feel underrepresented in national politics. This visibility created a symbolic leadership that the AIMIM has been using.

Yet, Owaisi has not attempted expansion everywhere. Instead, he has adopted a cluster-based strategy, identifying Muslim pockets where opposition parties are weak. Alam says the AIMIM has identified well populated Muslim areas facing underdevelopment and worked strongly in those regions. Its success in Maharashtra and Bihar is not a fluke. The party has a strong presence and Owaisi’s messaging on discrimination has wide appeal among youth. This model guided the AIMIM’s entry into Seemanchal in Bihar, Aurangabad, Malegaon and Bhiwandi in Maharashtra, parts of Murshidabad in West Bengal and select seats in Uttar Pradesh. The party contested only a few seats but selected them with care, focusing on constituencies where a three-way split could alter outcomes or where a strong local candidate could build a durable base.

Underlying this expansion is a change in Muslim political sentiment, particularly among youth. With rising communal tensions and reduced political visibility, many young Muslims seek leaders who speak directly about their concerns. Owaisi provides a mix of assertive representation and identity based politics that allows the party to gain footholds even in states where it lacks a large organisation. He himself delivers most political messaging. His speeches in Parliament and outside are direct and clear and, according to Alam, have made him an acceptable leader.

Although the AIMIM’s electoral successes remain limited to certain clusters, its strategic influence extends further. By strengthening local foundations, constructing a national identity, targeting strategic constituencies and cultivating new leadership, Owaisi has transformed the AIMIM from an Old City outfit into a party with regional presence and national relevance.

from-ponzi-schemes-to-loan-apps-the-alarming-rise-of-cryptocurrency-driven-crime

Wed Dec 24 12:44:33 IST 2025

In 2016, BitConnect Coin (BCC) was hailed as the next miracle of the digital age—a cryptocurrency that promised ordinary investors extraordinary returns. The fraud division of the US Department of Justice (DoJ) would later value BCC at a staggering $4.3 billion, making it one of the fastest “success stories” in the crypto universe—at least on paper. The illusion shattered once US investigators detected signs of a global Ponzi scheme. BCC’s value collapsed by nearly 98 per cent, wiping out an estimated $2.4 billion in savings across the world.

In January 2018, BCC’s Surat-based promoter Satish Kurjibhai Kumbhani—also known online as “Vindee”, “VND” and “vndbcc”—urged his international network of promoters to buy the coin on all cryptocurrency exchanges to artificially inflate its price. But it was too late by then. A Korean promoter warned him that “Koreans are freaking out”, as many of them had invested their life’s savings. Another posted in a BCC chat room: “Some people here are talking about committing suicide. Please, please! Post something on BCC website so people know what’s really going on.”

A promoter in Indonesia told Kumbhani that investors there wanted to approach the police. Chaos erupted after US agencies began taking action against BCC. On January 4, 2018, the Texas State Securities Board issued an “emergency cease and desist order”; five days later, North Carolina followed suit. As scrutiny grew, BCC abruptly shut down its lending programme on January 16. The platform became worthless. “Investors in BitConnect who did not cash out before shutdown lost all, or nearly all, of their investments,” the DoJ said.

The BCC saga exposes the dark underbelly of new-age money laundering. As funds move through the cryptocurrency maze, global investigating agencies, including the Enforcement Directorate in India, have turned their focus towards crypto markets to track illicit fund flows and investor fraud. The ED found that Kumbhani and his associates, without Reserve Bank of India approval, had collected nearly Rs19 crore in cash and an additional Rs 40-50 crore in BitConnect coins from investors, luring them with promises of high returns.

Founded, launched and owned by Kumbhani, BCC allegedly ran its fraud between November 2016 and January 2018. According to the ED’s prosecution complaint, Kumbhani offered what was essentially a sale of securities through BCC’s “lending programme”. Promoters were paid commissions on every new investment they brought in; he convinced investors that BCC used a “volatility software trading bot” capable of generating returns of “up to 40 per cent per month”.

But no trading bot existed. Instead, investor funds were allegedly routed into digital wallets controlled by Kumbhani and his associates. New deposits were used to service withdrawal requests from earlier investors—typical of a Ponzi scheme. As the crackdown began, the ED attached moveable and immovable assets, including cryptocurrencies, worth nearly Rs 2,150 crore as proceeds of crime under the Prevention of Money Laundering Act.

Documents accessed by THE WEEK reveal that at the height of his influence, Kumbhani organised promotional events worldwide. At one such event in August 2017, Kumbhani reportedly told a gathering that if the Indian government discovered the true owner of BCC, enforcement action could follow and investors would lose their money.

In UK registration records, one “Ken Fitzsimmons” was listed as BCC’s corporate officer. Kumbhani later admitted that the name was used to preserve his anonymity. In his defence, he claimed BCC neither violated regulations nor involved taxable assets. But when questioned about the trading bot, he remained evasive, citing privacy as the reason for withholding information from investors, and later, from investigators. Now under the FBI lens and wanted in a money laundering case, Kumbhani remains at large.

“This wasn’t a simple crypto scam,” says Prashant Mali, a Mumbai lawyer and cyber expert. “It was a globally coordinated psychological heist. While the mastermind operated from India, the platforms were in Hong Kong and the UK, investors were in the US, and promoters were scattered worldwide. Everyone had partial jurisdiction; no one had full traction.”

In such cases, Mali says, enforcement becomes reactive, not preventive. “BitConnect exploited the grey zone ruthlessly. What is urgently needed is not just filling gaps in crypto laws, but setting up a transnational joint cyber task force to investigate latest digital frauds,” he says.

In October, the ED provisionally attached cryptocurrencies worth nearly Rs 2,385 crore—the largest such seizure to date—in its ongoing investigation into the unauthorised forex trading platform OctaFX.

The investigation, based on a first information report filed in Pune, found that OctaFX ran a Ponzi-style operation masterminded by Pavel Prozorov, arrested in Spain. Between July 2022 and April 2023, Indian investors were allegedly duped of Rs 1,875 crore, generating profits of around Rs800 crore. Total profits from India allegedly exceeded Rs 5,000 crore, much of it transferred overseas.

OctaFX allegedly presented itself as an online currency trading platform without RBI permission. Initial investors received small profits to build trust—a typical Ponzi tactic. The network operated through entities in British Virgin Islands, Spain, Cyprus, Georgia, Estonia, Dubai and Singapore.

OctaFX, however, dismissed all the allegations. “We strongly refute any allegations of money laundering, promises of quick riches and high returns, and trading manipulations. The global broker Octa is operating in accordance with the laws and regulations of the jurisdictions in which it is registered and conducts business,” the firm said in a statement. “As a global broker, Octa is neither involved in nor has any information about Pavel Prozorov's affairs.”

Last year, Interpol’s strategic analysis ranked money laundering as the second highest crime threat, just behind drug trafficking. Complexity has increased, as criminals are leveraging artificial intelligence and machine learning to refine laundering techniques.

In India, digital financial frauds, increasingly facilitated by crypto platforms, recorded a 50 per cent rise this year. Indians lost Rs 22,845 crore in 2024 against Rs7,465 crore in 2023. As many as 36.4 lakh cases were registered in 2024 against 24.4 lakh cases in 2023. Much of this money enters international hawala circuits, intensifying the need for cross-border collaboration.

The ED’s focus has shifted from merely catching fraudsters to restoring assets to victims. As on March 31, assets worth Rs 1,54,594 crore was under provisional attachment. In 2024-25 alone, restitution of Rs15,261 crore was done in 30 cases. Overall, assets worth more than Rs 32,000 crore have been returned to rightful claimants.

In August 2025, ED officers were poring over bank records at a registrar’s office in West Delhi’s Janakpuri in connection with a case involving Chirag Tomar, convicted by a US court for spoofing the website of Coinbase (one of the largest virtual currency exchanges) and defrauding more than 700 victims of $20 million. Arrested by the FBI in December 2023, Tomar, 30, allegedly created a fake URL that mimicked Coinbase’s “pro” platform.

Investigators said Tomar was assisted by a team of crypto convertors, mostly family members and friends, who converted the loot into cryptocurrency and moved it to online wallets. Bank records showed Rs 293.85 crore were credited to accounts linked to his family members and associates. Much of it was spent on luxury watches, cars, properties and foreign travel. The ED has arrested three associates and attached Rs64.15 crore so far. Last August, a district court in the US sentenced Tomar to five years in prison.

“Traditional hawala relied on trust-based, off-record value transfer, but crypto replicates this through fast, borderless transactions,” says Brijesh Singh, cyber expert and additional director general of Maharashtra Police. “With newer tools like mixers, cross-chain bridges, decentralised exchanges and privacy coins at their disposal, scammers and organised networks are moving globally without direct identity linkage, making tracing difficult for law enforcement.”

Beyond scams, digital frauds also fuel the online black market—particularly narcotics trade on the dark web. In 2022, the US DoJ wrote to the ED seeking legal assistance to prosecute brothers Parvinder and Banmeet Singh, who ran an international drug racket using marketing sites on the dark web such as Silkroad and Dream Market, and a network of suppliers and distributors on ground. The brothers were paid in cryptocurrency, which was later laundered through online wallets. The Singh brothers had set up a pharmaceutical manufacturing unit in Uttarakhand called Denver Healthcare, and they started selling controlled substances online in 2012. They targeted customers in the UK who paid them in Bitcoins. Between 2012 and 2017, they earned around 8,000 Bitcoins from the illegal sale of drugs.

Vikram Subburaj, an IIM Calcutta alumnus who founded the cryptocurrency exchange Giottus in 2017, says 80 per cent of users on crypto platforms are in the 20-35 age group. Youngsters dabble in digital currencies because it is easier for them to grasp digital assets than for those who need to unlearn and relearn. “My platform has 1.3 million customers and a good number would be in the age group 20-35,” Subburaj says.

Shreyan Gupta, a blockchain expert, says the crypto space is “fast-moving, and full of opportunity—just like any other scam”. “The tech-savvy scamsters understand how to exploit the digital ecosystem,” he says.

The silver lining, say investigators, is tools like artificial intelligence and machine learning for predictive risk analysis. “The use of advanced technologies would enable us to move from reactive investigations to proactive disruption of illicit networks,” says Rahul Navin, ED director. “Our aim is to combine human expertise with technological power to ensure that illicit trade and money laundering become increasingly difficult, expensive and risky for criminals.”

Tracing illicit financial flows could take five years or more, but with integration of advanced tools and databases, investigations are gaining speed. The ED is training sleuths in using forensic tools such as Inter-Operable Criminal Justice System (ICJS) to identify layering and integration patterns across hundreds of bank accounts within minutes.

In 2024, the ED unearthed an international hawala racket involving Rs 4,000 crore. The alleged kingpin was 38-year-old Manideep Mago, 38, a resident of Delhi’s Janakpuri. The probe started after the ED received information that Mago’s Birfa IT solutions Pvt Ltd had sold large volumes of crypto assets and encashed Rs 1,858 crore through an Indian crypto exchange.

Mago’s company allegedly sourced crypto assets from abroad, sold them in India, and converted the proceeds into rupees. Fake invoices were generated and shell companies were created in the name of employees. Mago and an associate in Canada allegedly controlled entities abroad to divert funds to the tune of Rs 4,800 crore. Mago is currently in jail, and the ED has provisionally attached assets worth Rs 47.6 crore.

“From a criminal’s point of view, the market for traditional scams is far bigger,” points out Rajagopal Menon, vice president of the cryptocurrency exchange WazirX. “The fact that India has near-universal bank account ownership and hundreds of millions of people making payments through UPI, is giving scammers a much larger and easier target pool.”

Menon, however, believes crypto frauds are easier to crack than traditional hawala. “Crypto is still not the best tool for laundering money,” he says. “First, KYC [norms] are stringent. Second, you cannot move large sums into crypto without tripping compliance alarms. Three, every transaction is traceable on the blockchain.”

But transnational networks operate through a web of interstate handlers, often causing investigators to lose the trail. An FIR registered in Haryana’s Panipat revealed how Kerala-based “mule” bank accounts were being used by scamsters to run online betting platforms and Chinese loan app scams, with crypto facilitating fund transfers.

In 2021-22, Prema Bhatt (name changed), a resident of Panipat, received a WhatsApp link. After clicking it, Rs 2,500 was credited to her account. But her phone was hacked and data stolen. She later received Rs 1.7 lakh in multiple tranches through different apps. The scammers threatened to circulate morphed photos unless she repaid double the loan amount. They extorted Rs 4 lakh, and even after an FIR was registered in 2022, the harassment continued. The probe revealed that a bank account linked to the scam was opened in Canara Bank’s Ernakulam branch in Kerala, while the loan apps were operated from China. After this case, nearly a dozen FIRs were registered in Kerala. Investigators found that mule accounts in the state were used for instant loan apps, online gambling, betting, gaming, and investment scams. About Rs 444.85 crore routed through these Kerala-based accounts was invested in digital assets on an Indian crypto platform, with part of the money later remitted to Singapore through shell entities. The ED has frozen Rs 123.58 crore in such bank accounts, attached properties worth Rs 9.94 crore, and arrested six people.

The global money laundering watchdog, Financial Action Task Force, says it is important for financial intelligence units of countries to access widest possible range of financial, administrative and law enforcement information. But the reality is that there is little collaboration between police forces of different countries. India has a “mutual legal assistance treaty” with only a limited number of countries, giving criminals a wide leeway to operate in countries with which there is no treaty.

The trajectory of Amit Bhardwaj, a software engineer who became one of India’s biggest crypto fraudsters, illustrates how grey zones attract youngsters Raised in Pune, he joined a leading software company in 2005, and later founded Nextgen Facility Management Services Pvt Ltd, a software services firm. Health setbacks followed—kidney disease forced him to work from home.

While on dialysis, Bhardwaj immersed himself in blockchain and Bitcoin mining. In 2014, he launched a cloud-mining platform called gainbitcoin.com that claimed to purchase computational power from global mining giants using Bitcoin and sell them to retail investors as cloud-mining contracts. For 18 months, customers received fortnightly payouts, pegged to real time mining performances. Between April 2015 and November 2017, the portal reportedly sold 70,000 to 80,000 Bitcoins at an average price of $500-800 per coin. A referral system accelerated growth, with the portal retaining margins of nearly 40 per cent.

But by late 2017, pressure mounted as investors—from engineering students and BPO workers to small-town crypto clubs— began losing their savings. The portal was shut down in November 2017. Bhardwaj was arrested the following year under the anti-money laundering law, after the Pune Police’s cyber-crime cell registered an FIR. The total proceeds of the crime were later pegged by the ED at Rs 6,600 crore.

Bhardwaj died in 2023, but investigators say his model has since been replicated by dozens of crypto-mining rackets. Under existing laws, authorities can attach assets of equivalent value even if proceeds of crime are exhausted, moved abroad, or withdrawn in cash. The ED’s extraterritorial reach and emphasis on prompt action is keeping alive the possibility of restitution for victims of new-age hawala scams.

how-census-2027-and-electoral-revision-will-reshape-indian-politics-in-2026

Sat Dec 20 12:08:28 IST 2025

On December 31, 1926, King George V announced that the new imperial capital built around the Raisina Hills would be called New Delhi, pushing the city’s older name, Dilli, into the background. A hundred years later, another naming debate has returned to the national capital. Praveen Khandelwal of the BJP, who represents Chandni Chowk in the Lok Sabha, wrote recently to the Union home minister proposing that the capital be renamed Indraprastha, an ancient city linked to the Mahabharata era.

If 1926 reflected the confidence of the British Empire, the latest naming debate comes at a time when the country’s power centre is being rebuilt again, including at a symbolic level. An earlier push to use the name Bharat instead of India did not take place through legislation but has grown through regular use in official speeches and government communication. Prime Minister Narendra Modi last month criticised another colonial-era influence, the education system introduced by Thomas Babington Macaulay. He said India should focus more on native languages before the Macaulay education system completes 200 years in 2035.

The Modi government is, meanwhile, speeding up the shift from Delhi’s long-standing power centres such as North Block and South Block to new administrative buildings. A new high-security prime minister’s office is also taking shape, which will be called Seva Tirth. It seems the Modi government is keen to reframe the country’s administrative identity completely.

India’s political system is vast and complex, and in 2026, two major processes will matter most. One is the ongoing special intensive revision of electoral rolls. The other is Census 2027. Both will affect how politics is conducted, how voters are counted, how policies are made and how power is shared in the coming years. In fact, they may redefine the identity of an Indian, which existed but was never articulated.

One of these processes has already shown its political impact. In Bihar, the revised voter list resulted in a one-sided mandate. Opposition parties alleged vote stealing, but the ruling Nitish Kumar-led JD(U)-BJP alliance received more votes than expected and scored an impressive win in the assembly polls. The mandate for the National Democratic Alliance may be in line with the one it got earlier this year in Delhi, as the electorate voted out Arvind Kejriwal, who caved in under the burden of his own image after the government allegedly spent over Rs30 crore on his official residence.

In Bihar, the opposition believed that conditions were favourable. Nitish was seen as ageing and facing health issues and was in power for nearly 20 years, fuelling anti-incumbency. The SIR exercise created anxiety among voters over the fear of being disenfranchised. Rahul Gandhi rallied other INDIA bloc leaders behind him, not just from Bihar but even from other states like Tamil Nadu to support his charge. However, voters in Bihar chose the very people who were accused of stealing their votes.

This forced political analysts to rethink the verdict and look closely at the poll process. Amid allegations of voter manipulation stood two key factors. One was the Rs10,000 assistance to women voters, who formed the backbone of Nitish’s support base. A deeper look also highlighted the importance of political organisation. The BJP, backed by RSS volunteers, had spent years building booth-level committees. This groundwork, followed by active outreach by the JD(U)-BJP government, helped shape the outcome. This was apparent when the Election Commission asked political parties to come forward with objections over the exercise. Most parties did not have enough functionaries to cover all booths.

Voters ultimately supported parties they believed could deliver results. Faced with a choice between delivery and promises, they chose delivery.

That brings us to the other exercise that will shape India’s future. The first phase of Census 2027 will be held from April to September 2026. This phase will record the number of houses, basic facilities such as electricity and water and assets like vehicles. The data will show how living conditions have changed since the last census in 2011, and could give the BJP a chance to claim that its rule over the last 11 years has changed the fortunes of Indians.

The second phase of the Census, involving population enumeration, is planned for February 2027. This data forms the basis of government policies. It will record details such as age, gender, education, religion, language, caste, occupation, migration and fertility. This phase will also include a caste census, which has not been conducted since 1931. The results are expected to influence future debates on caste and representation. This is the part that every political party, sociologist and ethnographer will be keenly interested in. Will the caste census perpetuate caste identities or push larger demands for reservation when actual numbers reveal the composition of different castes? Could a new wave of protests begin, like the Gujjars or Marathas demanding more reservation after the caste census?

The census will lead to a redrawing of India’s political map as the delimitation exercise kicks in, largely based on population. Will the North gain more seats as it has a larger population than the South, which followed family planning policies? Will the balance of power shift northwards as the Hindi heartland alone decides who rules from Delhi? These debates may grow stronger in the coming months.

The year 2026 may reignite identity debates.

The SIR is underway in several states, and in poll-bound West Bengal, Kerala and Tamil Nadu it may influence election results. The contest in West Bengal is expected to be the most polarising. The SIR exercise includes identifying illegal immigrants and foreigners, which has become a major political issue. Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee has strongly opposed the process.

Similar concerns exist in Tamil Nadu and Kerala, both ruled by non-BJP and non-Congress parties. For anti-BJP parties, the SIR is a new challenge they have not dealt with before, but there is no escape.

In West Bengal, Mamata’s women-focused welfare schemes helped her in the elections. Rural infrastructure projects and the state’s cultural identity have also strengthened her support base. However, as 2026 begins, renewed political debate around building a new mosque modelled on Babri Masjid and a temple modelled on Ayodhya’s Ram Mandir in the state has the potential to make the elections much more intense than before.

Mamata had defied critics by winning a historic third term, even as the BJP expanded its footprint. West Bengal remains the only state in eastern India where the BJP has not been part of the government.

For the BJP, winning West Bengal is a prestige battle, as Mamata has so far blocked its rise to power. In neighbouring Assam, the Congress hopes to perform better against Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma. Sarma’s strong focus on hindutva politics has made him a key figure in the BJP. In Assam, politics centres on identity, with campaigns focused on removing illegal Bangladeshi immigrants and promoting Assamese pride.

In Tamil Nadu, M.K. Stalin is seeking a second term in the absence of a strong opposition. However, political churn caused by the entry of actor Vijay could affect alliances. Stalin’s government has focused on continuity, with welfare delivery, social justice and state autonomy as its main pillars. The BJP is trying to expand its presence but has not displaced the long-standing Dravidian polity. It is now working closely with its senior partner, the AIADMK.

In Kerala, Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan of the CPI(M)-led left alliance faces a strong challenge from both the Congress-led alliance and the NDA. The left relies on public health services, education institutions and strong party organisation. However, the December local body elections showed significant gains for the Congress-led UDF and the NDA.

The Bihar election was also good news for the BJP’s allies. The JD(U) and Chirag Paswan’s Lok Janshakti Party (Ram Vilas) made significant gains. Nitish’s continued relevance lies in his ability to combine governance with political survival. This contrasts with Odisha’s Naveen Patnaik, who lost power in the 2024 assembly elections after voters sensed leadership fatigue following an uninterrupted reign of 24 years. Herein lies the message. Across states, a similar pattern is visible. Voters increasingly seek clear leadership and the ability to deliver.

The BJP has recovered after setbacks in the 2024 Lok Sabha elections, but maintaining this position is not without challenges. After delays in naming a new party president, leading to discussion about leadership changes, particularly around succession planning when Modi demits office, the party has named Nitin Nabin, minister and five-term MLA from Bihar, as its new working president.

Modi faces no immediate political challenge. The government is hopeful that global trade pressures, including tariff issues, will ease. Among supporters, Modi continues to be seen as a decisive leader, but challenges with neighbours and the economy persist. For the opposition, recent elections have shown the limits of relying mainly on speeches and narratives without strong local organisation and regular engagement with voters.

Indians love a good fight and may support an underdog, provided he is consistent in his approach rather than mounting a challenge only near the polls.

siliguri-corridor-can-india-defend-its-chickens-neck-against-china

Sat Dec 20 11:50:12 IST 2025

The geography of the Siliguri Corridor, called ‘Chicken’s Neck’, is often dismissed as a mere cartographic anomaly. Yet, for those of us who have been at the frontlines wearing the uniform along these flanks, these lines are not abstract; they are lived realities. They pulsate with tension, history and the relentless churn of geopolitics. This narrow passage is not just a transportation artery, but a strategic lifeline, a vulnerability, and now, the very fulcrum upon which great-power ambitions pivot. Thus, the enduring truth remains: geography never retires from geopolitics. The corridor is currently enduring a confluence of simultaneous, multi-directional pressures, transforming it into a strategic theatre demanding a doctrinal transformation.

China’s grand strategy of encirclement

The challenge facing the Siliguri Corridor is layered, encompassing military, demographic, psychological, informational and infrastructural dimensions. It is important to unpack this layering from a threat-vector perspective. A revisionist China is tightening its grip across the Himalayas and the Bay of Bengal, employing a strategy of meticulous, expansive influence—a grandmaster playing patiently and methodically. The Doklam crisis revealed Beijing’s objective: positional advantage. This pursuit manifests in the strategic use of infrastructure, where roads, airstrips and “civilian projects” serve a military shadow function.

The concern over China’s involvement in redeveloping the Lalmonirhat airfield in Bangladesh—barely a breath away from India’s border—is not a consequence of paranoia but of sound military logic. Lalmonirhat secures a vantage point offering potential intelligence visibility and surveillance reach into India’s Eastern Air Command, which houses some of the Indian Air Force’s most advanced assets, including frontline fighters, missile systems and integrated air-defence grids. A dual-use facility so close to such critical infrastructure is a clear strategic signal. Beijing understands the strategic leverage of the northeast, and it is positioning itself around it.

Pakistan proxies: The incubation of insurgency

While governmental cooperation with Bangladesh has yielded significant security gains, notably the dismantling of insurgent safe havens, a quiet, persistent risk remains—most pertinent being the survival of extremist ecosystems. Having commanded counter-terror and counter-insurgency operations here, I know that extremist modules linked to transnational groups are building ideological depth and logistical staging in this region.

As counter-terror frameworks tightened in the Jammu and Kashmir region, and international scrutiny mounted in the west, Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence and its proxies recalibrated their strategy eastward. The northeast, once peripheral to their plans, is now seen as fertile ground for ideological grooming. Their operational success has been limited, but intent matters, and intentions are the earliest warning signs of future confrontation. These are not isolated actors. They are patient, structured networks building the ideological and logistical ligatures that can be activated when geopolitical conditions favour a larger confrontation.

The United States: A partner and an unpredictable variable

The US views the Bay of Bengal through the lens of its broader Indo-Pacific contest, creating a complex dynamic with India. Washington’s recent diplomatic signalling, including pressuring Bangladesh while simultaneously warming up to Pakistan, suggests a worrying resurgence of pre-Bush era mandarins in the White House. Reported hobnobbing of US agencies with strange bedfellows like the Jamaat in Dhaka, as the much-touted election approaches, is indicative of preparation for cosying up to any kind of regime post-election. These officials historically viewed Pakistan as the primary regional partner, relegating India to a mere balancing weight.

Furthermore, the US’s long-standing aspiration for access to St John’s Island, a critical node for monitoring the eastern Indian Ocean, reveals a core divergence in strategic imperatives. While Washington seeks an enduring forward presence to project power and contain rivals, this ambition often runs parallel to, yet risks undermining, the regional stability that is New Delhi’s immediate focus. Navigating this gap requires disciplined diplomacy, ensuring alignment without subordination.

From vulnerability to deterrence: India’s transformation

Critics often characterise the Siliguri Corridor as India’s “Achilles’ heel”. However, no nation is without its chokepoints or strategic dependencies. If Siliguri is India’s vulnerability, the world’s most crucial commercial artery—the Malacca Strait—is a single point of failure for numerous global economies. India, through the Andaman and Nicobar Command, sits as its sentinel. This perspective is vital. While defending the northeast and monitoring adversarial actors, one eye must always remain fixed on the Andaman and Nicobar region, as maritime events inevitably shape the land.

The doctrinal shift

India’s recent military realignments reflect a crucial doctrinal transition. The establishment of new garrisons at Dhubri, Kishanganj and Chapra represents more than a scaling-up of troop presence; it is a fundamental shift in strategic mindset. For years, the corridor was a weakness to be shielded. Today, the combined force of the Trishakti Corps, integrated air assets, and missile systems signals a shift from vulnerability management to area denial and deterrence. The corridor is now a fortified chokepoint capable of imposing costs swiftly and disproportionately.

However, military might alone is insufficient. Infrastructure is the hidden force multiplier. Logistical fragility—from landslides in Dima Hasao to flooding along the Lumding–Silchar line—can cripple strategy. Projects like the Shillong–Silchar Greenfield Expressway and multimodal corridors are not development gimmicks; they are strategic insulation. The singular corridor becomes resilient only when it is transformed into a network of options.

People as the vanguard

Having been deeply involved in counter-radicalisation work in Assam, I can attest that in these complex border regions, trust is a currency more important than surveillance. Community cooperation is the most effective early-warning tool. The emotional and ideological vacuums that extremist actors exploit are reduced by the state’s responsiveness, fair dispute resolution, inclusive governance and empathetic policing.

To truly insulate the Siliguri Corridor and the northeast, India’s response must move beyond conventional defence into a bold new phase of strategic resilience—a phase where realpolitik is at the fore of infrastructure and foreign-policy decisions.

The singular vulnerability of the current rail and road network should be eliminated. Infrastructure is the hidden force multiplier. India must urgently explore and accelerate alternate railway connectivity through Bhutan and Nepal. These mountainous alignments, while challenging, offer pathways that bypass the most exposed and easily interdicted sections of the current corridor. Furthermore, the idea of a strategic underpass or tunnel to the northeast must be moved from concept to a mission-mode project. This would offer a hardened, all-weather and strategically secured route, shielded from both kinetic and non-kinetic interdiction efforts.

Additionally, the Kaladan Multi-Modal Transit Transport Project offers a crucial land–sea route, bypassing Bangladesh entirely and linking Mizoram to the Bay of Bengal via Sittwe Port in Myanmar. This project, which has faced chronic delays, must be completed, and its connecting road network inside Myanmar finished on priority. This requires dealing with all parties concerned in the region, including non-state actors, to secure the safety of the corridor. If India’s much-vaunted normative behaviour needs to be temporarily sacrificed at the altar of realpolitik to achieve this vital security objective, then so be it. Strategic necessity must trump ideological purity at this point.

India also holds leverage over its neighbours, which could be exploited. Given the current geopolitical climate, New Delhi could remind Dhaka that its provocations, or tolerance of adversarial influence, could be returned in kind, as Bangladesh has its own vulnerabilities across states like Tripura and Meghalaya. Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma recently highlighted a much-needed reminder in this context. Some judicious military flexing or posturing across these points of vulnerability could also be explored to provide a necessary “wake-up call” to the government in Dhaka regarding the sanctity of India’s security red lines.

The corridor reimagined

For decades, we feared the Siliguri Corridor as the point where India could be severed. With foresight, discipline and strategic coherence, this fear can be inverted. The corridor can evolve from a chokepoint into a strategic launchpad, linking India not just to its northeast, but dynamically to southeast Asia and the wider Indo-Pacific. The strength of a corridor is defined not by its width on a map, but by the strength of the nation that guards it.

The author is a former DGP of Assam and currently the general secretary of the think tank, Society to Harmonise Aspirations for Responsible Engagement—SHARE.

echoes-of-gadkari-is-nitin-nabins-appointment-a-repeat-of-bjp-2009-reset

Sat Dec 20 11:44:27 IST 2025

On October 16, just days before Diwali, Nitin Nabin filed his nomination from the Bankipur seat in Patna for the fifth time for the assembly elections. At the time, Nabin, a minister in the Nitish Kumar cabinet, could not have known that another event unfolding the same day in western India would prove a precursor to a turning point in his political journey.

In Ahmedabad, Chief Minister Bhupendra Patel asked his entire cabinet to resign. Patel inducted 19 new ministers, retaining only six from his earlier team. The average age of the cabinet dropped from 60 to 55. Harsh Sanghavi, 40, was appointed deputy chief minister, marking a generational shift in the state BJP.

The reshuffle was widely seen as a strategic move ahead of the 2027 assembly elections in Gujarat, the state regarded as the BJP’s organisational laboratory. Outside Gujarat, the development was noted by party insiders but did not enter the wider political conversation, as the Bihar campaign dominated national attention.

After the Bihar results, which exceeded expectations, many within the BJP assumed that the most frequently discussed contender for the post of party president—Union Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan, who was also in charge of the Bihar elections—would soon be elevated. Pradhan, 56, appeared to fit the bill perfectly. His OBC credentials, at a time when the BJP is sharpening its social justice plank after announcing the caste census, added to his advantage.

Instead, less than a month after Bihar saw Nitish Kumar taking over as chief minister once more, and after Nabin retained his portfolios of road construction, urban development and housing, the BJP surprised observers again. The party’s highest decision-making body, the parliamentary board, elevated 45-year-old Nabin as its national working president. The move set the stage for him to become the youngest BJP president, and the first from Bihar and eastern India. The BJP chose a president 11 years younger than Pradhan and the same age as the party itself. The BJP and Nitin were born in 1980, just weeks apart.

The decision is being seen as a major reset.

By placing a leader younger than several Union ministers and senior office-bearers at the helm, the BJP disrupted its traditional age- and experience-based hierarchy. The next logical step, many believe, would be a Union cabinet reshuffle. “The BJP has once again demonstrated that any worker, at any level, can aspire to the highest responsibility. Under Nitin Nabin’s leadership, the party will scale new heights and strengthen its organisation, especially in regions where it is still expanding,” said BJP spokesperson Guru Prakash. “This reflects a generational shift. It is a decisive shift when compared to other political parties, with the BJP preparing itself for the next 25 years towards the vision of Viksit Bharat.”

Nabin entered politics in 2006 after the death of his father, Navin Kishore Prasad Sinha, a senior BJP leader with an RSS background. He belongs to the Kayastha community, an upper-caste group that constitutes less than one per cent of Bihar’s population.

Among party colleagues, Nabin is known as hardworking and energetic. He demonstrated his administrative abilities as road construction minister—the state’s road network saw notable improvement under him. Since 2006, Nabin has been elected MLA for five consecutive terms. He became a member of the national executive committee of the Bharatiya Janata Yuva Morcha, the BJP’s youth wing, in 2008, and served as its national general secretary from 2010 to 2016. He was BJP co-in-charge for Chhattisgarh from 2021 to 2024. During this period, the party dislodged the Congress government in the state. Soon after, he was given charge of Chhattisgarh for the Lok Sabha elections, in which the BJP won 10 of the state’s 11 seats.

Nitin’s rise to one of the most powerful positions in India’s political system—heading the world’s largest party, which is in power in 15 states—also brings renewed focus on the role of the BJP’s ideological parent, the RSS. The sangh has been advocating a generational shift within the BJP for the past year, following the sobering 2024 election verdict in which the party lost 63 seats and fell far short of its “400 plus” ambition. Feedback from the ground provided by the RSS suggested that the party needed a younger leader who could be groomed for future responsibilities, along with a new generation of leaders across the organisation.

The experience of the Atal Bihari Vajpayee government was frequently cited, when the focus on governance came at the cost of organisational renewal. When Vajpayee lost power, there was no mass leader ready to step into his role. The next line of leadership had not been adequately prepared. As a result, the RSS enforced a hard reset 16 years ago, on December 20, 2009, when its preferred choice—incidentally another Nitin—was elevated. Following the BJP’s poor performance in the 2009 Lok Sabha elections, a relatively unknown Nitin Gadkari was chosen as the party’s youngest president. The 52-year-old was then little known outside Maharashtra but had built a reputation as public works minister, a portfolio similar to that once held by Nabin.

When Gadkari reconstituted his team in 2010, his choices pointed to the direction the party was about to take. General secretaries included Ananth Kumar, Vasundhara Raje, Arjun Munda, Ravi Shankar Prasad, Dharmendra Pradhan and J.P. Nadda. Now, under Nabin, further changes are expected within the party organisation, with more leaders likely to be inducted and groomed for future roles. His elevation is also expected to enhance the prominence of leaders from Bihar in national politics, with a longer-term aim of positioning the BJP to have its own chief minister in the state when Nitish eventually exits the scene.

At the national level, the choice of an upper-caste leader as party president suggests that the prime ministerial post would continue to be held by an OBC leader, like Modi. Nabin’s immediate predecessors were also from upper castes. So, when the issue of picking a new prime ministerial candidate arises in the post-Modi era, if Nabin is still the party president, will the new candidate also be an OBC to balance caste equations?

inside-dagshai-jail-how-an-irish-soldiers-defiance-in-india-connected-two-freedom-struggles

Sat Dec 06 16:37:52 IST 2025

DAGSHAI, HIMACHAL PRADESH

The hills around Dagshai were far barer a century ago than they are today. It would see pine come up later, seeded and nurtured by units of Scottish regiments who served in the region under the British. In 1920, the slopes were still sparse, the cantonment stark against the ridge above the old Hindustan-Tibet road. Sparse they might have been, but the hills knew how to hold their silence. On the morning of November 2, 1920, they stood still as it rained bullets near the walls of the military jail.

A few minutes earlier, a young Irish private, James Joseph Daly, had walked into the yard with a green silk handkerchief around his neck. A doctor had asked whether he wanted morphine. Daly had refused. Moments later, the Royal Fusiliers—infantry regiment of the British Army—had opened fire. As his body fell, the priest stepped forward to administer the last sacrament and nearly took a stray bullet. Daly’s comrades gathered his remains and handed them over for burial in the Catholic cemetery—grave number 340.

Daly was 52 days short of his 21st birthday. His death made him the last soldier to be executed by the British Army for a military offence. He and other Irish soldiers—many of them world war veterans—had mutinied in protest against the violence in Ireland by the English. It mattered little that they were 7,000km from home, stationed with the Connaught Rangers regiment at Solan in Himachal Pradesh. It was not the first time soldiers in India had turned against their British commanders; Indian sepoys had done so in 1857.

In a letter to his mother written days earlier, Daly explained himself plainly: “What harm it is all for Ireland! I am not afraid to die, but it is thinking of you I am.” His mother was informed of his execution through a telegram on December 31.

The first act of Irish mutiny came 200km from Solan—on June 28, 1920, at Wellington Barracks in Jalandhar, a group of Connaught Rangers refused to take orders. The soldiers sang songs, and even hoisted their tricolour. Some accounts also mention the influence of Sinn Féin, a party active in the Irish War of Independence. Two mutineers travelled to Solan to spread the word.

At Solan, the protest remained peaceful until the evening of July 1. And then the soldiers mutinied, incarcerating their English officers and seizing the armoury. The guards opened fire, killing two men—Peter Sears and Patrick Smyth—and wounding another. A relieving column was rushed from Ambala, which quelled the mutiny. Then a court martial was hurriedly convened at Dagshai on August 20. Sixty-one soldiers were convicted. Fourteen received death sentences. Thirteen were reprieved. Daly alone was executed.

A telegram sent by the commander in chief two days before the execution stated: “Reprieve was not entertained in one case only because the prisoner was the ringleader throughout and maintained a spirit of flagrant defiance for more than twenty-four hours.” For the British, sparing him risked weakening military discipline not only among Irish troops but across the Indian army. Daly’s execution was intended as a message for two nationalities held under the control of its gun—Ireland and India.

The story of Daly’s final days would have faded were it not for the old jail above the Hindustan–Tibet road and for the man who restored it. The Dagshai Jail Museum stands in the same stone building where Daly spent his last weeks. The cantonment itself sits above the same road, earlier called National Highway 22 and what is now NH-5. It is a steep climb from the highway, a few kilometres before Solan. Most travellers pass it for nearby Kasauli. If Kasauli offers the comforts of a hill station, Dagshai asks visitors to slow down, to notice, and to remember.

The restoration of the jail and its legacy owes much to Anand Kumar Sethi, an IIT alumnus who arrived in Dagshai nearly 20 years ago. His father had been the first Indian cantonment executive officer here. When he found the jail had become a Military Engineer Services dumpyard, he began clearing it out. When his wife’s relative became brigade commander here, Sethi gained access to turn the abandoned structure into a museum. Then began a humongous task of restoring not only the jail, but also the cemeteries and even the gothic-style St Patrick’s Church.

Inside the jail, the teakwood floors creak underfoot. The 8ftx12ft cells have almost no natural light, there is a ventilator in the walls though. The one reserved for those with heavier punishment allows only standing room. There is even one cell titled P&T cell, which, Sethi found out, stood for ‘Punishment and Torture’ cell. Not just mutineers, even Mahatma Gandhi and his assassin spent a night here, though nearly three decades apart.

As the jail museum is under the control of Indian Army, Sethi has trained jawans to act as guides for visitors. “The British made three military jails in India,” explains Sethi. “This was number one—the highest security jail.” His research retraced the history through burial registers, court-martial papers, accounts of various regiments posted here and documents of the India Office Records housed in the British Library and the Imperial War Museum in London. Without this work, a lot of what we know today would have remained scattered or unknown—from the details of Daly’s last months to Dagshai’s role in not just the mutiny but also India’s freedom struggle—early freedom fighters like the Ghadarites were jailed and executed here—and its military history: a number of prestigious regiments and officers were posted here. Sethi also restored lost items and added archival pictures to the museum’s collection. As the bells at the jail and the church belfry were also stolen, Sethi sourced them from Kerala.

★★★

Daly’s path to Dagshai began far away in Ballymoe, County Galway, Ireland, where he was born on December 24, 1899. Like many Irish boys, he saw soldiering as both duty and opportunity. He enlisted in the Royal Irish Rifles at 16, lying about his age, until his mother petitioned successfully for his discharge. In 1919, he enlisted again, this time with the Connaught Rangers. The rangers in India had red uniforms with an elephant brooch attached to their collar—an apparent attempt to imperialise the Irish soldiers. Daly’s first posting after training was in Solan.

Ireland and India were both in upheaval. In Ireland, the War of Independence was intensifying, and news of reprisals, raids and the actions of the Black and Tans, a notorious paramilitary force of ex-army men formed by the British government to quell the freedom movement, travelled abroad. In India, anger after the Jallianwala Bagh massacre had deepened, and Gandhi had launched the Non-Cooperation Movement on August 1 in 1920.

Local memory holds that Gandhi, who was in Ambala at the time, travelled to Dagshai when he heard of Irish soldiers mutinying against the British. Gandhi and Irish leader Éamon de Valera were friends. Valera went on to become the president of Ireland in 1959. During his 1920 tour of the US, Valera had addressed Indian revolutionaries, saying that Britain had “plundered India” and that Irish people recognised their struggle.

“We believe what happened here in Dagshai influenced both Ireland’s independence first, and then India’s. Notice our two flags: both tricolours. Not a coincidence,” says Sethi.

Stephen Lally, one of the mutineers, had later said, “I thought we might as well kill two birds with one stone, and if we could get the Indian National Movement with us, it would mean a great victory not [just] for Ireland but India as well.” Lally had also described in the detail the last moments of Daly.

The Connaught Rangers was disbanded in 1922, but its memory lived on. In 2002, the new Connaught Rangers Association was formed. It is now a global community of over 250 members, including the family of mutineers, that collaborates to “preserve the history of the regiment and the memory of the men who served from Connaught and elsewhere”.

P.J. Maloney, chairman of the association, told THE WEEK. “The mutiny was a direct response to reports of British atrocities in Ireland. The brutality of the Black and Tans and the violent suppression of the independence movement are cited as key catalysts for the act of nationalist defiance. For James Daly, the mutiny carried the ultimate price: execution. As the only soldier put to death for his involvement, his story is a profound human tragedy that highlights the brutal mechanics of imperial power.”

★★★

Daly’s grave in Dagshai remained undisturbed until 1970, when demands started growing in Ireland to get home the martyrs buried in Dagshai. When the grave was dug up, it was clear that he was buried in his uniform. His remains were flown back to Ireland, where over 6,000 people attended his reburial.

The mutiny was covered in several newspapers in India and Ireland. Many of the mutineers returned home where their struggle for pension began. After a prolonged battle, Daly’s family was granted 10 shilling in pension. In the decades that followed, remembrance was uneven. Ireland grappled with the legacy of those who had served in the British Army. Subsequent commentary on the mutiny also referred to the revolt as being partly to do with the general conditions of the Irish soldiers in their regiments. India placed greater emphasis on non-violent movements and constitutional politics, leaving military revolts like Dagshai to the margins of public history.

But national sentiments only grow with time and martyrs find their way back in memory. On October 19, 2024, St Patrick’s Church hosted a remembrance ceremony to mark the 125th anniversary of Daly’s birth, the 110th anniversary of last use of Dagshai Gallows House to hang the Ghadar leaders and belatedly the centenary of the mutiny (delayed due to Covid). In attendance were Kevin Kelly, ambassador of Ireland and Maloney, apart from Indian military and civilian dignitaries. The church, now beautifully restored, holds mass every Sunday for over 50 families who stay in the vicinity.

Soon, an obelisk commemorating the Irish-India connection will be installed, jointly by governments of both countries, at the jail in Dagshai. The place where Daly was shot in Dagshai is now a park with flowers and swings for children.

inside-dagshai-jail-a-story-of-gandhi-godse-and-ghadar-movement

Sat Dec 06 15:24:52 IST 2025

THREE DECADES AFTER Mahatma Gandhi’s visit to Dagshai’s colonial jail, his assassin Nathuram Godse was held in the same building during his transfer to the East Punjab High Court in Shimla for trial. Gandhi occupied the VIP cell; Godse cell number six.

The jail’s curator, Anand Kumar Sethi, has a personal link to the killer’s case. His grandfather, Justice Achhru Ram, was among the High Court judges who upheld Godse’s death sentence.

According to Sethi, Dagshai derives from Dag-e-Shahi, the Mughal practice of branding criminals and exiling them to remote settlements. In 1847 the East India Company acquired the site and four neighbouring villages from Maharaja Bhupinder Singh of Patiala. Its position in the hills made it a convenient staging point for British regiments and an escape from the heat and mosquitoes of the plains.

The jail, built in 1849, is one of the strongest reminders of the early work of future field marshal Robert Napier. It soon filled with prisoners from the 1857 uprisings and later housed Boer detainees from South Africa.

World War I drew Dagshai into deeper political unrest. The Ghadar movement, which attempted to incite revolt within the colonial army, left a direct imprint on the jail. After the Komagata Maru incident in 1914, four Ghadar supporters were executed here. A year earlier, a mutiny in the 23rd Cavalry led to 12 sepoys being shot by firing squad. The gallows remain sealed but intact.

Other units gave Dagshai different rhythms. Cyclist battalions arrived in 1917 and occupied themselves with drills and theatre. The Gordon Highlanders served here, and their pipers carried the tune “Dagshai Hills” to the Battle of Dargai on the North-West Frontier and, a century later, to ceremonies at Balmoral Castle following Queen Elizabeth II’s death. Dagshai’s regiments also served in Afghan campaigns and on the Western Front.

The infamous Major William Hodson was posted in Dagshai. During the 1857 revolt, he travelled to Delhi and captured and killed the last Mughal emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar’s three sons. One display shows an army officer once posted here—Ayub Khan, later president of Pakistan.

when-mahatma-gandhi-met-condemned-irish-soldier-james-joseph-dali-in-dagshai-jail

Sat Dec 06 15:20:13 IST 2025

THE HILL STATION of Dagshai sits camouflaged in the subalpine belt of the lower Himalayas, far from the hustle and bustle—and at this time of the year, the toxic pollution—of Delhi. It is hard to imagine in this quiet stillness that a mutiny against the mighty British Empire took place.

In June 1920, word of harsh measures being imposed by the Crown’s forces in Ireland reached all the way to soldiers stationed in north India. In protest, troops in Jalandhar refused orders from their officers. News of their action travelled to nearby Solan, where Private James Daly from Ballymoe, County Galway, led 70 fellow soldiers from the Irish Connaught Rangers regiment in an attempt to seize the armoury. The action was quickly halted, the men were brought to Dagshai, and Daly was sentenced to death. Their stand, though short-lived, sent shockwaves through Ireland and it echoed here in India, too.

There are reports that Mahatma Gandhi travelled to Dagshai to meet Daly before he faced execution. According to local historians the Mahatma stayed a night in the cell adjoining Daly’s to keep vigil with the condemned Irish soldier. Their exchange was brief, but its symbolism and meaning has endured. It showed that a struggle for justice in one part of the world could be understood instinctively by those striving for dignity elsewhere.

I thought about that moment during my own moving visit to the prison, imagining the silence, the uncertainty, and the awareness that history was moving.

I travelled on my first expedition to Dagshai in July 2024. I felt a strong sense of connection to the place and its history. The story stayed with me so deeply that I returned later that year to mark what would have been Daly’s 125th birthday. Standing inside his pitch black cell, next to the guest’s cell where Gandhi stood vigil, I understood why this place carries such emotional weight. It is a reminder that our histories not only overlap, they speak to one another.

Both Ireland and India, in the early 20th century, were searching for the same prize: freedom. For the Irish, that quest was complicated by the fact that many of our people lived and worked within the framework of the empire in India. Soldiers, priests, nuns, nurses, doctors, teachers and administrators built lives here, even as they longed for sovereignty at home. Daly’s story reflects that tension: an Irishman stationed in a land seeking its own future, yet prepared to give his life for his own country when news reached him.

Despite these complexities, leading figures in both independence movements recognised each other’s aspirations and drew encouragement from them. Jawaharlal Nehru watched Ireland closely, admiring how Irish leaders asserted the legitimacy of self-determination and how public mobilisation could reinforce constitutional argument. Éamon de Valera often referenced India, describing our nations as sharing “parallel injuries and parallel hopes”.

Subhas Chandra Bose, during his time in Europe, sought out Irish perspectives and pointed to Ireland as evidence that disciplined resolve could challenge imperial power. Towering over these shared moments stands Annie Besant, an Irishwoman who became a powerful advocate for India’s home rule and who rose to lead the Indian National Congress.

These intertwined histories shaped the relationship that followed. When India achieved independence in 1947, Ireland was among the first countries to offer recognition, not simply diplomatically, but out of understanding. Nehru’s visit to Ireland in 1949, when he became the first foreign guest to address Dáil Éireann (lower house of Irish parliament) after Ireland became a republic, reinforced that connection. So, too, did de Valera’s role as guest of honour at celebrations marking India’s republican status in 1950.

Today, more than 100,000 Indians call Ireland home, and our cooperation continues to flourish across education, research, culture and global affairs. Yet beneath these modern ties flows an older current, one shaped by courage, empathy and shared memory.

The story of Private Daly is but one chapter, yet it captures something essential. That the story of Ireland and India is inherently linked: by experience, sacrifice and a belief that freedom, once won, binds people together across distance and time.

The author is Irish ambassador to India.

from-s-400s-to-oil-deals-decoding-putin-strategic-visit-to-india

Sat Dec 06 13:23:15 IST 2025

SINCE HE FIRST became president of Russia in the summer of 2000, Vladimir Putin has visited India nine times. But his 10th visit—December 4-5 for the 23rd India-Russia Annual Summit—is his first after the conflict with Ukraine began on February 24, 2022. This visit exceeds past ones in terms of significance and impact in view of the strategic and military implications. Its scope has now expanded and new alignments have shaped up, contributing in a big way to the ongoing global geopolitical churn.

First, it is all about the optics, positioning and building a narrative. India shares a ‘special and privileged strategic partnership’ with Russia and a ‘comprehensive global strategic partnership’ with the US. Putin’s visit is an attempt to see in what ways the relationship with India is further enhanced.

India and Russia have traditionally enjoyed warm ties—the military collaboration being the high point. Even as India is trying to diversify the sourcing of weapons and is on a path of atmanirbharta in military production, at least 60 per cent of its weaponry—from fighter aircraft and naval platforms to artillery guns and small arms—continue to be of Russian origin. Of course, Russia’s slide in the Indian arms market has been made up by the US, France and Israel.

At a time when the US-led west is trying to corner Russia on Ukraine and also with the US pushing India to curb oil and energy purchases from Russia, a presidential visit to the world’s most populous country with a fast-growing economy and rising military might is also a not-so-subtle message to the US. “The visit is to demonstrate the proximity of India with Russia against the backdrop of increasing pressure on India by the US to side with it in the ongoing tussle with the Sino-Russian axis for extending their respective spheres of influence,” says Kumar Sanjay Singh, who teaches history in Delhi University. “A consolidation of the Indo-Russian trade in energy and military hardware is important for Russia to circumvent the western sanctions regime”. He adds that Putin wants to retain the Indian energy market as without it Russian investments in the north-south corridor may lose value.

Putin’s visit should also be seen against the backdrop of India’s policy of strategic autonomy, with only national interest being the guiding principle. Even the handshakes, embraces and personal chemistry between the Indian and Russian leaders will be something that the world will watch with attention—much like when Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s ‘hug’ with Putin made for global headlines during the former’s Moscow visit in July 2024.

Second, with the Indian Air Force (IAF) facing a shortage of at least 200 fighter aircraft, the Modi-Putin talks will definitely explore means to shore up IAF’s depleting strength—be it in the upgrade of the Sukhoi-30 fighter fleet, which is the IAF mainstay, or in exploring a joint production of the fifth generation Sukhoi-57. The Russians have already assured technology transfer as far as the Su-57 is concerned. But as a top official in the foreign ministry put it, “Defence deals are not announced publicly.”

India will also request for expedited delivery of the ‘Triumf’ S-400 surface-to-air medium- and long-range anti-aircraft missile system. Once a bone of contention in the India-US ties, the powerful S-400 proved its worth in the recent India-Pakistan conflict. It was sought by India in 2015 and a deal was inked during Putin’s visit to India in October 2018. The deal is for delivery of five regiment sets, costing 40,000 crore; only two have been delivered till now.

Third, western sanctions after Russia’s foray into Ukraine had forced it to look for alternative markets and that was when India cashed in. In 2021, India’s crude oil imports from Russia stood at a mere 2 per cent; in June 2024, it accounted for 42 per cent. But India has cut back on oil from Russia following recent sanctions on Russian companies like Rosneft and Lukoil. Experts say oil imports from Russia may drop by half in coming months.

To be fair to India, the major worry is that of heavy trade tariffs on Indian exports to the US. This is a valid fear as the US is among the very few countries with which India has a favourable balance of trade. India-US trade negotiations are still on and outcomes of the Putin visit will definitely have a bearing on the trade talks.

Fourth, India and Russia, along with China, Brazil and South Africa, are key members of the growing BRICS grouping. An important agenda of BRICS is to curb the might of the dollar. The BRICS, in its declaration at the summit in Rio de Janeiro this year, had questioned the governance structure of the Bretton Woods Institutions—the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund—that paved the way for the dollarisation of the global economy. Without mentioning ‘de-dollarisation’, the BRICS declaration made a compelling case for the same.

That the Central Bank of Russia may open a representative office in Mumbai to ease rupee-rouble trade may be indicative of such intent, even as reports speak of a plan by the two countries to increase the total value of bilateral trade to $100 billion by 2030 from the current $70 billion.

Fifth, the two nations are expected to strike a key deal on labour mobility, especially of skilled and semi-skilled manpower. It is well-known that Russia requires human resources to harvest its huge mineral and hydrocarbon potential from the rich deposits in Siberia, the far east and the Arctic region.

“Russia and India have been trying to establish a mechanism to enhance the presence of skilled Indian manpower in Russia,” says Major General Deepak Mehra (retd), who served as India’s defence attaché in Moscow. “A landmark bilateral labour mobility agreement could be expected, establishing a framework for legal migration, protecting workers’ rights and expanding the presence of skilled Indian manpower in Russia. This could be in fields as diverse as construction, textiles, engineering, farming and electronics.”

from-campuses-to-terror-cells-is-online-indoctrination-indias-next-big-threat

Sat Nov 29 08:59:20 IST 2025

In the bustling lanes of downtown Kanpur, an unusual silence hangs over the home of Dr Zafar Hayat. He speaks in a tired, almost hushed tone about Dr Shaheen Saeed, his former wife and mother to his two children. The family is still coming to terms with the fact that she is an accused in the conspiracy behind the Red Fort blast on November 10, which killed 15 civilians and the suicide bomber, Dr Umar Un Nabi of Faridabad’s Al Falah University.

Their first response is denial—not only of her alleged role, but also her memory. “My elder son is 20 and the younger one is still in school,” says Hayat. “They were very small when we got divorced (2013) and she left. The younger one hardly has any memory of Shaheen, and the older one is busy studying medicine and avoids social media. We have our own life and don’t meet too many people.”

An ophthalmologist at a hospital in Kanpur, Hayat is understandably uncomfortable with the media glare on his family. “I had no inkling of her extremist ideas. She was a good mother...,” his voice trails off.

Investigators say that Saeed, who also worked at Al Falah University, was part of a core terror module that included Maulvi Irfan Ahmad Wagay of Shopian, who delivered sermons in Nowgam’s local mosques, and three radicalised doctors—Dr Adeel Ahmed Rather, a native of Anantnag, working in Saharanpur; Dr Muzammil Shakeel Ganai of Pulwama; and the suicide bomber Nabi. They were assisted by a wider ecosystem of footsoldiers, financiers, logistical suppliers and sympathisers, who worked in tandem to execute the plot.

The scale of involvement, say officials, indicates that the operation was planned over months. In fact, two months before the module was busted, Adeel’s elder brother Muzaffar is said to have left for Afghanistan. Investigators say Nabi was meant to leave with him, but stayed back to execute the plans handed down by the masterminds.

RISE OF THE RADICALS

Senior security officials say the case reflects a deep-rooted resurgence of radicalisation where educated youth, with no physical training or history of cross-border travel, were defying the conventional terrorist playbook and turning to violent extremism through online indoctrination.

Radicalisation in the past 25 years has not solely been driven by socioeconomic deprivation. Engineers, doctors and academics have at times surfaced in terror investigations under different banners, from Azamgarh’s Dr Shahnawaz and Pune’s techie Mansoor Peerbhoy of Indian Mujahideen in 2008 to Zubair Hangargekar, a software engineer arrested by the Maharashtra anti-terrorism squad on October 27 for allegedly supporting Al Qaeda’s call to establish a caliphate.

“While conventional recruitment into militant ranks has dropped, and enforcement of law has worked, [there is still a] deeper ideological undercurrent,” says R.R. Swain, former director general of the Jammu and Kashmir Police. “This itself is evidence that our battle with online propaganda and false narratives is not going well.” Deradicalisation policies drafted a few years ago, he says, cannot succeed without families and communities stepping in.

In 2016-17, the Maharashtra ATS created a deradicalisation model to prevent the Islamic State from recruiting educated professionals disillusioned with sociopolitical systems. It relied on a community-based approach and rehabilitated 450 individuals. This model formed the basis for deradicalisation guidelines issued by the Bureau of Police Research and Development for state police forces. But whether these guidelines were implemented and support systems were actually created requires detailed assessment.

“No family consciously raises a child to embrace a radicalised ideology,” says Prashant Kumar, former director general of Uttar Pradesh Police. “Terror-mongers in public spaces and online platforms brainwash them gradually. As agencies cannot monitor private online spaces, the role of families becomes crucial.”

Kumar cautions against branding an entire group of professionals from a particular community as terrorists, arguing that it would risk alienating more youth. Also, what is equally important is to understand that radicalisation among the educated is still an exception in India. “How many white-collar professionals have actually picked up the gun? Very few,” says Swain. “But when a handful get radicalised at this level, their impact is disproportionately large.”

While it might seem shocking, the fact that more educated people are being radicalised is apparent from the raw data accessed from Islamic State recruits in recent years. “An analysis of this data reveals that less than 2 per cent were uneducated,” says Tara Kartha, former director at the National Security Council Secretariat. “The suicide declaration by Umar reflects almost exactly the ‘teachings’ of the ISIS, which is widely available on the dark web. As an imported ideology, this has not been internalised in India till now despite the best efforts of Pakistan’s intelligence agencies, who control at least one ISIS grouping in Afghanistan.”

Therefore, this first ingress, she says, needs to be pushed back with sensitive counter-terrorism tactics, even while pursuing all hard options to end the current module. That the investigations have already spanned four states is worrying, and more is expected to come out gradually.

SYSTEMIC FAILURES: ONE STEP FORWARD, TWO STEPS BACK

A series of systemic failures—from intelligence gathering and law enforcement to forensic labs, education and industry oversight—appears to have culminated in the current security breach.

First, the highly sophisticated National Intelligence Grid, set up to ensure timely intelligence sharing, missed early signs until Srinagar Senior Superintendent of Police Dr Sundeep Chakravarthy stumbled upon multiple Jaish-e-Mohammad posters at different locations in Nowgam issuing threats to security forces. His alert led to arrests, including that of ideologue Wagay, whose records showed links to JeM and Ansar Ghazwat-ul-Hind dating back to 2019, the year of the Pulwama attack.

Two weeks later, the police followed the trail to Al Falah University. “Till then, there was no local intelligence on any suspicious activity inside the university,” admitted a security official in Haryana.

The haul of more than 3,000kg of ammonium nitrate from a cleric’s secluded house and another room rented by Ganai averted a major attack. But chinks in the security armour were evident: Nabi slipped out with explosives, crossed state borders and waited undetected for hours before the blast.

The absence of robust, ground-level networks—from local beat constables to community informants, particularly in the hinterland—continues to be the weakest link in counter-terror efforts.

“Building ground-level intelligence is a much neglected area today as police forces invest in facial recognition, smart detectors and AI analytics,” says Yashovardhan Azad, former special director in the Intelligence Bureau. “This has resulted in an over-reliance on technology at the cost of human intelligence.”

What is also worrying is the easy availability of explosive material like ammonium nitrate. More than a decade ago, the Union home ministry had asked the Department of Industrial Policy and Promotion to barcode packets of ammonium nitrate, largely sold as fertiliser. But pilferage remained rampant. The debate soon expanded to barcoding detonators to prevent misuse. India, one of the world’s major detonator exporters, faced resistance over potential price increase. “The easy access to ammonium nitrate has been a constant worry. It is high time procurement and sales mechanisms are tightened,” says Azad.

Another glaring lapse emerged after the Enforcement Directorate found that Al Falah University had put up a false accreditation certificate on its website and had misappropriated funds; this was not noticed till the terror plot came to light.

“It is worrisome when educational institutions become breeding grounds for radicalisation,” says Swain. “(While a bulk of terror recruits came from Kashmir), this trend is not limited to J&K, but is an equal concern in hinterland states as well.”

Investigators believe some members of the Faridabad module may have been part of sleeper cells, activated only now, and that they likely had no contact with those in the first phase of the operation. “These [JeM] posters were probably put up by footsoldiers who the doctors never even met,” said an official in J&K, pointing to the possibility of micro modules operating across Faridabad, Saharanpur, Kanpur and elsewhere.

EVIDENCE IS KEY: FILLING THE GAPS IN INVESTIGATIONS

“The investigation in such cases is always tough, but there are much better tools available for forensic analysis, data collection and analysing evidence,” says Atulchandra Kulkarni, former NIA special director. “There is also greater synergy between Central and state police forces.”

It is always a tightrope walk for investigators to take terror cases to a logical conclusion in courts as identities are hidden, finances are masked and footprints are made invisible using highly sophisticated techniques. There have been instances when those arrested have walked free because of tardy investigation.

In the 2006 Mumbai train blasts case, police relied heavily on the confessional statements of the accused as they were recorded under MCoCA (Maharashtra Control of Organised Crime Act) and held evidential value during trial. But the High Court, while acquitting all the accused recently, said: “Confessional statements were not found to be truthful and complete on various grounds; some portions of the same were found to be similar and copied.” The court also observed that the accused established that they were tortured for confessions. “That case is a classic example of how investigations can go wrong,” said a former police officer, explaining why forensic and scientifically gathered evidence is the need of the hour.

WORRIES BEYOND DELHI

The Delhi strike comes six months after India carried out a military response to the Pahalgam terror attack that killed 26 civilians. According to senior officials, these developments are linked. Investigators found at least two JeM handlers, Umar and Hashim, on the encrypted platform Telegram, interacting with nearly two dozen doctors and young professionals discussing geopolitics, ongoing wars and cross-border conflicts. Pakistan army chief Asim Munir’s decision to send senior military officers to funerals of terrorists killed during Operation Sindoor had won praise by JeM operatives.

Notably, India’s assessment of Pakistan’s role in sponsoring terror has been debated by western policymakers of late. The former US Central Command chief General Michael Kurilla, who praised Pakistan for being a ‘phenomenal partner’ in counter-terror efforts, has once again brought focus to the transactional US-Pakistan relationship, which has been restored out of necessity more than once. “Over the years, sufficient evidence has been shared with Pakistan of the terror machinery operating against India,” says G.K. Pillai, former Union home secretary. “But the isolation of the terrorist groups, whether it is the Islamic State groupings like IS Khorasan Province (ISKP) supported by ISI in Afghanistan or the JeM in Pakistan, will only be possible if the fight against terror gets global support.” The ISKP is learnt to have moved its operational base from Afghanistan to Pakistan’s Balochistan province, demonstrating a shifting terror landscape in the region.

Veterans in India’s security establishment warn that demanding accountability will become increasingly difficult as extremist sentiment rises across the neighbourhood, including in Bangladesh, where several high-ranking Pakistani military officers have recently visited to reset defence and trade ties. For Delhi, the priority must be to set its own house in order by fixing gaps in intelligence gathering, sharing and prevention.

While corrective measures lie with policymakers in Sardar Patel Bhawan, prevention begins with ordinary citizens resisting the proponents of radical ideas.

how-women-centric-policies-bjp-muscle-helped-nitish-kumar-win-bihar

Sat Nov 22 18:31:03 IST 2025

Nitish Kumar ended Lalu Prasad’s 15-year rule in 2005, a defeat from which Lalu—despite his national profile during the United Progressive Alliance years—never recovered in Bihar. An opportunity appeared in 2020 when his son and political heir, Tejashwi Yadav, mounted a serious challenge with a promise to sanction 10 lakh jobs. The election, held during the pandemic and amid the return of migrant workers, saw Nitish losing support but not his position. Tejashwi, 30, emerged as leader of the single largest party but could not form the government.

Five years later, a more politically experienced Tejashwi raised the stakes with the promise of one government job per family. Yet, the RJD lost 50 seats, while Nitish’s JD(U) gained 42 seats over its 2020 tally. Cohesive campaign, effective political management and Nitish’s credibility helped the National Democratic Alliance retain power with an impressive margin. At 74, Nitish is one of the oldest and longest serving chief ministers, and he was the face of the NDA campaign. The strong appeal of Prime Minister Narendra Modi and the BJP’s election machinery, too, played a key role.

In terms of messaging, the NDA relied on two potent themes: repeated invocation of the Lalu era as ‘jungle raj’ and a focus on the delivery of welfare schemes.

Nitish drew on a vote base he had built over two decades, one that extended beyond caste lines. Despite concerns about his health, he remained agile politically. Whenever Tejashwi made a promise, Nitish moved quickly and made a better offer. But the decisive factor was the Nitish government’s effort to strengthen its most loyal vote base: women. A one-time transfer of Rs10,000 to more than 1.3 crore women for small enterprises, the network of Jeevika Didi self-help groups and the generation of girls who first received bicycles during his early years in office formed a dependable support base.

The welfare push included 125 units of free electricity for 1.67 crore households, 33 per cent reservation for women in government jobs, higher social security pensions and free bus travel for women. “Nitish Kumar built trust among women, who constitute 50 per cent of the population, and drew support from extremely backward classes, Pasmanda Muslims, and dalits,” said JD(U) leader Neeraj Kumar.

The NDA campaign showcased a new political playbook of preemptive action. In April, after months of hesitation, the Centre agreed to conduct a caste census along with the decennial census, which neutralised a major opposition plank. The BJP accommodated a proposal that could have hurt it politically.

Now, with 85 seats to the BJP’s 89, there is no uncertainty about Nitish’s return to office, despite earlier hints from Union Home Minister Amit Shah that the decision would be taken after the polls. While the BJP and the RJD retained their vote share, the JD(U) recorded a 3.8 per cent rise. Nitish’s survival against aggressive opponents and demanding allies conveys a broader message: regional parties endure when they have credible leadership and remain alert to alliance dynamics.

However, the NDA’s victory relied heavily on the BJP’s organisational strength. Modi has visited Bihar nearly 70 times since 2014, unveiling a series of infrastructure projects in the months preceding the election. The party moderated its hindutva messaging and focused on caste representations of religious and historical figures. BJP spokesperson Guru Prakash said the verdict was a rejection of entitlement politics and dynastic politics. “It was a collective win for the NDA under Prime Minister Narendra Modi with the support of Nitish Kumar,” he said.

The BJP’s consolidation of upper-caste voters, the JD(U)’s social outreach and Chirag Paswan’s support among dalits created a cohesive bloc. Smaller partners such as Jitan Ram Manjhi and Upendra Kushwaha added further depth.

The opposition, on the other hand, failed to build momentum. Although Tejashwi attempted to reframe the RJD’s appeal around economic justice rather than social justice, he lacked a clear plan. His projection of Mukesh Sahani for deputy chief minister, despite Sahani’s limited social base, unsettled dalits and Muslims. Asaduddin Owaisi capitalised on the vacuum, drawing Muslim votes and weakening the RJD’s Muslim-Yadav combination. The RJD’s failure to expand the MY vote bank by including upper castes, dalits and EBCs restricted its growth.

The grand alliance struggled with internal coherence. The Congress’s delay in affirming Tejashwi as chief ministerial candidate added to voter confusion. The party again failed to convert anti-incumbency into seats, repeating a pattern seen in Madhya Pradesh, Haryana and Maharashtra. Its “vote stealing” narrative did not resonate.

Tejashwi has age on his side. However, the Yadav scion will need to recast his image to win over other castes. He may need to remind the electorate that he would have zero tolerance for crime and corruption. Experience shows that voters prefer credibility. A similar predicament awaits Prashant Kishor, whose shift from coach to player ended poorly. Whether he stays in Bihar or returns to election management elsewhere will determine his credibility among Biharis. For Chirag Paswan, the next five years provide an opportunity to build on his momentum and position himself as a contender for the top post he keenly seeks.

For the BJP, the victory offers a chance to consolidate its base and work towards having its own chief minister. After an emphatic win, the party will hope that its impact extends to West Bengal, where elections will be held within six months. Nitish, meanwhile, has to answer a crucial question: who succeeds him? Regional parties often lose momentum if there is no successor to take over.

beyond-caste-decoding-impact-of-women-voters-in-bihar-election

Sat Nov 22 18:28:34 IST 2025

The Bihar election hints at a structural shift in the state’s electoral behaviour. A 5 per cent rise in turnout produced a decisive tilt toward the National Democratic Alliance.

The most striking feature was the gender gap—71.6 per cent turnout among women compared to 62.9 per cent among men, though women voters were fewer in absolute numbers. This is now a women-centred democracy in practice.

In 2020, the Centre for the Study of Developing Societies surveys estimated women were split almost evenly: 37 per cent for the NDA and 36 per cent for the grand alliance. This time, the gap widened sharply. Women voters delivered what can be described as a farewell gift to Nitish Kumar. After the grand alliance projected Tejashwi Yadav as its chief ministerial face, and he pressed the NDA to reveal its own, Nitish gained ground as many women shifted toward the NDA. Direct benefit transfers amplified this. The 10,000 assistance targeted at women worked, as DBT by ruling parties did in Maharashtra and Jharkhand.

Alliance composition and organisational discipline also shaped the outcome. Stable vote bases of NDA partners added volume. The grand alliance lacked that coherence. Multiple alliance constituents did not match their claims of support. As a result, the NDA expanded its base; the opposition could not protect its own.

The dark horse was Chirag Paswan, whose rising vote share gave the NDA a sharper edge.

The new player keenly watched was Prashant Kishor. When his supporters were asked about their second preference, they leaned toward the JD(U), indicating Jan Suraaj was cutting into JD(U) vote rather than the NDA’s larger bloc. Jan Suraaj secured 3.5 per cent but did not destabilise the alliance.

Caste arithmetic reinforced the NDA’s gains. Among OBCs, who constitute about 28 per cent of the electorate, Yadavs form nearly half. The rest leaned heavily toward the NDA. The RJD’s Muslim-Yadav combination weakened after Asaduddin Owaisi’s AIMIM cut into its base. In the 28 seats the AIMIM contested, the NDA won 20, the AIMIM five and the grand alliance only three. Wherever the AIMIM won, the grand alliance fell to third.

The RJD also failed to counter the “jungle raj” narrative. Tejashwi had to defend his party while Tej Pratap Yadav drifted into pro-BJP signalling. Rahul Gandhi made no substantial impact. The NDA surge also impacted the left parties, reducing both seats and vote share.

These polls signal new patterns. One is caste-neutral voting among women. Some Muslim women voted for Nitish, indicating possible rise of a cross-caste voting class. As the opposition regroups, the question of succession within the JD(U) remains open. A broader vacuum in the regional space is taking shape.

The BJP is positioned to strengthen its base. Its sustained outreach to non-Yadav OBC groups has paid dividends. The emerging leadership vacuum in the opposition widens its opening.

Bihar’s politics has moved through dominant phases: upper-caste dominance after independence, backward-forward contests in the 1970s, intra-backward consolidation in the 1990s, and ongoing competition within the OBCs. There are signs of emerging conflict between the OBC and the dalits, and within dalit groups. This election hints at the beginning of that shift.

—As told to Pratul Sharma

The author is a professor of political science at Patna University.

delhi-blast-terror-module-red-fort-explosion-investigation

Mon Nov 17 17:00:37 IST 2025

At the morgue in Delhi’s Maulana Azad hospital, a woman in her 30s leaned over a covered body. “Maa... Kriti,” she whispered hoarsely, voice trembling as she pointed to tattoos on the charred forearm that she recognised as her husband’s.

Amar Kataria, a Chandni Chowk businessman, had been in his car near the Red Fort metro station on the evening of November 10. At about 6:52pm, a sudden flash and a deafening boom tore through the air, instantly taking Kataria from his family. A blazing inferno raged as nearby vehicles caught fire. Human bodies and body parts lay strewn all around. “He loved tattoos,” said Mohan Sharma, a relative of Kataria. Sharma confirmed to THE WEEK that they identified Kataria based on his tattoos—maa and Kriti (daughter). The doting father’s phone, recovered from the debris, still showed his last call: “Kriti Home”.

At last count, 13 people have lost their lives in the explosion, while dozens were injured. Among the dead were Ashok Kumar Singh, a 34-year-old DTC bus conductor; Nouman Ansari, a 29-year-old cosmetics trader from Jhinjhana in Uttar Pradesh’s Shamli district, and Pankaj Sahni, a 22-year-old cab driver from Bihar’s Samastipur—ordinary people going about their daily lives.

“Different place, same loss,” said Ashok Randhawa, president of the Sarojini Nagar Market Traders’ Association and a survivor of the 2005 Delhi serial blasts.

Randhawa was among the first to reach the LNJP Hospital and the Maulana Azad Medical College. “Every time there’s a blast, I rush to the hospitals,” he told THE WEEK. “It’s not duty, it’s memory.... After 20 years, the same pattern repeats.”

A series of connected events preceded the November 9 blast.

From October 19 onwards, police in Jammu and Kashmir began investigating the sudden appearance of posters, purportedly put up by Jaish-e-Mohammad, vowing vengeance on security forces. These posters appeared in Bunpora, Nowgam and Srinagar.

Questioning of three suspected JeM overground workers led to a maulvi in Shopian, Irfan Ahamed, who revealed an intricate network spanning Kashmir, Faridabad and Mewat in Haryana, Delhi and Saharanpur in Uttar Pradesh.

Investigations uncovered a “white-collar terror ecosystem” involving radicalised professionals and students in contact with foreign handlers operating from Pakistan and other countries.

Significantly, before the Delhi blast, J&K Police had issued an official statement announcing the unearthing of an “inter-state” and “transnational” terror module. The release stated: “The group has been using encrypted channels for indoctrination, coordination, fund movement and logistics. Funds were raised through professional and academic networks, under the guise of social/charitable causes.”

Soon, several people including the now infamous doctors—Dr Muzammil Ahmad Ganaie from Faridabad (originally from Pulwama), Dr Adeel Ahmad Rather from Saharanpur (originally from Qazigund) and Dr Shaheen Sayeed from Lucknow—were arrested.

The accused are believed to have links with JeM and the Al Qaeda-affiliated Ansar Ghazwat-ul-Hind, both based in Pakistan, though recent investigations suggest connections with handlers in Afghanistan and Turkey. These outfits have declared the “liberation” of Kashmir as their central goal in waging war against India.

What has alarmed security agencies is the module’s extensive activity so close to the national capital.

Several aspects stand out.

One, Kashmir-centric terror outfits may be shifting focus from hit-and-run guerrilla operations in J&K to targeting urban centres elsewhere.

In a couple of years leading up to 2023, “hybrid” terrorists in J&K targeted soft civilian and migrant worker populations to derail signs of normalcy in the Union Territory. As security forces tightened their grip, militants altered tactics in 2023—luring security personnel into ambush zones in the hills and forests, where they could engage with volleys of heavy gunfire from vantage positions, provisioned with ample supplies of weapons, ammunition and food. As with jungle warfare techniques, the vantage point was selected to also ensure a secure exit route after inflicting the maximum possible damage. As a result, such encounters often stretched on but ultimately ended with the terrorists being neutralised.

Now, evidence suggests a new shift: sleeper cells are being activated to strike beyond Kashmir. For this, terror elements from the valley are said to be establishing contact with the remnants of dormant fundamentalist groups in other parts of India.

Two, attacks in major cities outside Kashmir attract far greater international attention.

On October 31, National Security Adviser Ajit Doval, speaking at the Sardar Patel Memorial Lecture in Delhi, had said that terrorism had been effectively countered and that the last major attack in India’s hinterland took place in 2013. “Except for Jammu and Kashmir, which had been a theatre of a proxy war or a covert warfare for Pakistan, which is a different ballgame, the whole country has remained secure from terrorist attacks,” he noted. The November 10 blast may well have been intended to challenge that assertion.

Three, the perception of a terrorist as uneducated or economically deprived no longer holds true. As the arrests of the doctors show, the new-age militant may be educated, articulate and well-heeled with a degree of sophistication that may not typically be associated with an ultra orthodox Islamist radical—making detection far more difficult for security agencies.

Though the busting of the terror module may have prevented more ‘spectacular’ attacks, it remains alarming that the group managed to stockpile around 2,900kg of ammonium nitrate, along with detonators, timers, batteries and sophisticated firearms right under the nose of the security forces.

A dilemma for New Delhi is to whether publicly name Pakistan as the key patron of the module and the Delhi blast. Doing so would raise pressure to respond, especially since Operation Sindoor—after the April 22 Pahalgam terror attack—had already brought India and Pakistan to the brink of an all-out war.

Two days after the Delhi blast, in Bhutan’s Thimphu, Prime Minister Narendra Modi vowed retribution: “Our agencies will get to the bottom of this conspiracy, and the conspirators will not be spared... all those responsible will be brought to justice.”

That same day, a suicide bomber struck a district court in Islamabad, killing 12. Pakistan’s prime minister, Shehbaz Sharif, promptly blamed India, while also terming the Delhi blast “mysterious”.

As narratives and counter-narratives continue and probe into the Red Fort explosion unfolds, many questions remain.

Was the November 10 blast intentional or accidental? Is there a broader strategy driving these networks? What could be the impact on regional security?

With the network and its tentacles unravelling by the day, one thing grows clearer: the danger may no longer be coming from across the border alone. It may already be within—lurking in more sleeper cells waiting for the next opportunity to strike.

from-petwar-to-power-the-journey-of-justice-surya-kant-indias-next-cji

Sat Nov 08 12:48:13 IST 2025

HISAR

THE AIR IN PETWAR still hums with echoes of Diwali. Strings of marigold droop gently across mud-plastered doorways and the faint scent of burnt sparklers lingers in the lanes. But, the celebrations are far from over. For this modest Haryanvi village, 25km from Hisar city, another festival is about to begin.

“It will be a second Diwali when he takes the oath,” smiles Rishi Kant, eldest brother of India’s next chief justice, as he supervises the repainting of the family’s ancestral home. The walls, once faded and weathered, are now turning a fresh shade of cream. “We want the house to shine when Surya Kant bhai becomes chief justice of India.” When Justice Surya Kant takes oath as the 53rd CJI on November 24, he will become the first Haryanvi to occupy the post.

Rishi Kant, a retired government school Sanskrit teacher, speaks with quiet dignity. He knows his brother’s success is not just personal—it is a chapter in the story of a family that has lived by the ideals of education, simplicity and self-belief. Both their father and grandfather, schoolteachers in nearby villages, believed shiksha hi sabse badi daulat hai (education is the greatest wealth). Justice Surya Kant is the youngest of five siblings. The eldest sister, 74, lives in Jind; another brother, Dr Subhash Kant, is a renowned tuberculosis specialist in Hisar; and the third, Rajkumar Kant, retired as an instructor from an industrial training institute.

“Our family never had an advocate or a judge, not even distant relatives,” says Rishi. “Surya was the first to even think of law. It was completely his decision.”

After graduating from the Government College, Hisar, Surya pursued his LLB at the Maharshi Dayanand University, Rohtak. “Law wasn’t seen as a prestigious career at the time, especially for a boy from a family of teachers,” says Rishi. “But our father never imposed his will. He always said: Jo mann kahe, wahi karo (follow your heart). That freedom made all the difference.”

Petwar is a small, self-contained world—a place of open skies and mustard fields. At its heart is the Government Senior Secondary School, where all four Kant brothers went. “We walked to school barefoot,” recalls Rishi. “There were no private schools, no tuition classes. We studied under the neem tree. Our teachers made us memorise Sanskrit shlokas and multiplication tables. That’s where Surya developed his love for books and discipline.”

After completing his degree in 1984, Surya Kant began practise at the Hisar District Court. Within a year, he moved to Chandigarh to practise at the Punjab and Haryana High Court. “We were worried; new city, no connections or godfather,” Rishi recalls. “But he said, ‘Main apna raasta khud bana lunga (I’ll make my own way)’. And he did.”

In 2000, at just 38, Surya Kant became the youngest advocate general of Haryana. In January 2004, he was appointed a judge of the Punjab and Haryana High Court, later serving as chief justice of the Himachal Pradesh High Court before being elevated to the Supreme Court in 2019.

His judgments reflect a deep empathy for ordinary citizens—a rights-conscious and reform-oriented approach. He stayed the operation of the colonial sedition law, spoke of protecting under-trial prisoners’ dignity, and upheld the importance of electoral transparency.

“Even as a judge, he listens more than he speaks,” says a Supreme Court advocate. “He doesn’t thunder from the bench. His authority comes from logic.”

For Petwar, it is not titles that inspire pride—it is his simplicity. “He hasn’t changed,” says Rajbala, his eldest sister-in-law. “He touches elders’ feet, talks to children, sits on the charpai and has tea like any of us.” Her eyes light up as she recalls a visit a day before Diwali. “He came without informing anyone,” she says. “He walked in with his wife and said, ‘Bhabhi, aaj hum sab saath mein khana khayenge (Sister-in-law, we’ll have lunch together today)’.”

That afternoon, the future CJI sat cross-legged in the courtyard, eating kadhi, bajre ki roti and achar. “He loves simple food,” Rajbala says fondly. While taking his leave, he bowed to touch the feet of his elder brother and sister-in-law. “He still does that every time,” Rishi says, smiling. “That humility makes him special.”

At the Kant household, preparations continue. “We didn’t have time during Diwali,” says Rishi, laughing. “Now it feels like the festival never ended.” The house carries the family’s history. “Our father used to sit in this courtyard and teach village children for free,” Rishi recalls. “Now his youngest son will lead the judiciary.”

Justice Surya Kant has remained deeply connected to Petwar. Every year, he visits to honour meritorious students of classes 10 and 12, personally funding scholarships for underprivileged children. Petwar today is dotted with four public libraries, all set up with the support of local volunteers he inspired. “The facility is free,” says Vikas, 19, who is studying for SSC exams. “We feel motivated because one of our own reached the top.”

Surya Kant’s childhood friend Ber Singh’s eyes light up as he recalls the boy he knew. “We played kabaddi after school hours,” he says. “Surya was always quick on his feet and calm under pressure. He wasn’t just good, he was often the reason our team won. Even then, he had that focus and fairness that later made him a judge.”

When news of Justice Kant’s elevation broke, Petwar erupted in joy. At the temple, villagers distributed sweets; at the panchayat hall, elders congratulated one another and the school declared a special holiday.

As the day draws closer, the excitement in Petwar is palpable. When children playing cricket with a plastic bat are asked if they know who Surya Kant is, one shouts, “Woh toh judge hain na—sabse bade wale (He’s the biggest judge, right)?”

Inside the Kant home, Rajbala brings out steaming cups of tea and plates of home-made sweets. “We are simple people,” she says. “But, it feels like our entire village has been recognised by the nation.”

As the evening sun dips behind the fields, temple bells ring for aarti, and the house, freshly painted and fragrant with new beginnings, stands as a quiet symbol of how far a dream can travel. “Humare liye toh yeh sabse badi Diwali hai (For us, this is the biggest Diwali),” says Rishi, his voice barely above a whisper.

out-of-rjds-shadow-how-congress-is-reclaiming-autonomy-in-bihar

Sat Nov 08 12:39:14 IST 2025

OPTING TO REBALANCE power equations within its Bihar unit marks no small shift for the Congress. For years, the grand old party in the state has operated under the shadow of the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD), gradually ceding both electoral and organisational ground. But the appointment of Krishna Allavaru—a relatively young 52-year-old leader replacing 74-year-old Mohan Prakash as the state in-charge in February—quietly began to alter the old order, signalling a more assertive tone in the party’s renewed politicking.

Allavaru’s appointment carried a clear message from the Congress’s national leadership that it intends to reclaim autonomy over its state unit, free itself from dependency on the RJD, and chart an independent course for its leaders. A similar intent to seed a new crop of politicians is seen in other states, particularly in Assam, where the assembly polls are some six months away.

The party’s initial push in Bihar—Rahul Gandhi’s Vote Adhikar Yatra that began two months earlier—created ripples across three fronts: among voters, against the NDA, and within the Mahagathbandhan. This momentum emboldened the Congress to demand more space within both the alliance and the state.

The RJD, however, resisted this expansion by slashing the Congress’s seat share from 70 in 2020 to 54, with six additional “friendly contests”. The RJD may have expected the Congress to withdraw from these contests, but the latter stood its ground, sending a strong message to its cadre and signalling that its assertion will shape the party’s approach in other states.

In Bihar, Allavaru’s appointments have gradually unsettled the older generation of Congress politicians. The choice of Kumar Gaurav, a former Jharkhand Youth Congress president in his thirties, underlined this generational shift. Tasked with managing election operations, liaising with allies and handling feedback, Gaurav’s rise was seen as a reward for mobility and effectiveness. In essence, the Congress has placed younger leaders in decisive roles to test and groom its next generation.

More than a dozen of the party’s candidates joined only in recent months, and among the 60 seats it is contesting, younger aspirants dominate. The strategy appears aimed at nurturing new leadership to make the state unit more dynamic and self-reliant.

Although several long-time members have called the ticket distribution controversial, insiders say the process was strategic. Congress legislature party leader Shakeel Ahmad Khan said efforts were made to balance the old guard and the young, while ensuring representation of backward and extremely backward communities. For the first time, young leaders from these communities have been given prominence—a sign that high command wants younger people from across castes to build an activist, autonomous and effective organisation at the grassroots.

This recalibration has not been without friction. Some senior leaders have expressed discomfort at the speed of the transition, prompting the high command to dispatch Avinash Pandey, the UP in-charge, to pacify dissent. Yet the message from Delhi remains firm: discipline and loyalty to the new order.

Feathers were ruffled when the sons of former ministers and established power players in the state unit were sidelined for lack of ground activity. Ticket distribution, once influenced heavily by entrenched networks and legacy families, is now controlled by the central leadership. The sons of former state unit chiefs Madan Mohan Jha and Akhilesh Prasad Singh were denied tickets; Akhilesh’s son, Akash Singh, even accused Allavaru on social media of favouring new entrants over loyal workers—a post later deleted.

A senior MP, reflecting on the generational shift, said most veterans had grown less mobile and did not have the curiosity needed for understanding and overcoming electoral challenges. Others, demoralised by successive defeats, have slipped into inertia. Within the high command, Rahul Gandhi’s aides have also taken note of seniors who appear reluctant to carry forward his political narrative.

There have been similar problems in Haryana, Maharashtra and Madhya Pradesh. Efforts to consolidate support and mobilise cadres in these states have been limited. In Bihar, however, Allavaru has reversed that pattern, ensuring the high command’s directives are executed seamlessly. This model of tighter coordination is likely to be replicated in the upcoming elections in Assam and Kerala. In Assam, the appointment of 43-year-old Gaurav Gogoi as state president has set the stage for building a new network of young leaders.

The party, therefore, has attempted a bottom-up leadership model—a shift evident in the new system where district presidents are being empowered, even as it centralises decision-making within the high command. Former Madhya Pradesh chief minister Digvijaya Singh told THE WEEK that the party has given opportunities to new leaders “which will help it assess operational effectiveness in them and aid future-building”.

from-controversies-to-control-devendra-fadnavis-orders-performance-audit-of-ministers

Sat Nov 01 15:17:42 IST 2025

Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis seems determined to the play the role of a strict headmaster to his cabinet. As his government nears the milestone of one year in office—on December 5, 2025—he has announced a performance audit of his ministers.

Speaking to journalists during a Diwali interaction, Fadnavis emphasised the need for such an audit. BJP leaders indicated that the party’s top leadership felt the government’s image was suffering because of the actions and statements of certain ministers.

A senior BJP leader said the government’s performance has been “mixed”. According to him, some ministers are doing well while others have fallen short, both within the BJP and its allies—the Shiv Sena and the Nationalist Congress Party, led by Deputy Chief Ministers Eknath Shinde and Ajit Pawar, respectively. When asked about controversial ministers like the NCP’s Dhananjay Munde and Sanjay Shirsat, and the Shiv Sena’s Yogesh Kadam, the leader said the party should have thought about it when it decided to form the coalition. “Didn’t we know what we are entering into when we made the alliances?” he asked. If he intends to act against errant ministers from other parties, Fadnavis would have the difficult task of convincing Shinde and Pawar.

Fadnavis has ruled out a Gujarat-style reshuffle, where the entire cabinet—with the exception of Chief Minister Bhupendra Patel—resigned to make way for a new team, which included young leaders such as the 34-year-old Rivaba Jadeja. But in Gujarat, the government had completed three years; in Maharashtra, it is yet to complete a year, so such a reshuffle is unlikely to happen.

Nonetheless, the ministers will be audited. “If Devendra ji wants to carry out a performance audit, it is a welcome step; it is, in fact, a necessary exercise,” said BJP spokesperson Sujay Patki. If there are cases of the government’s image getting tarnished because of certain ministers courting controversies, they will have to be dealt with firmly.

Among those who have courted controversy are Shirsat and Kadam. Videos of Shirsat with a bag filled with cash went viral earlier this year, though he claimed it contained only waste paper. His son Siddhant has also drawn scrutiny after Fadnavis ordered an inquiry into the sale of a hotel linked to him in Chhatrapati Sambhaji Nagar district.

Kadam, the son of veteran Sena leader Ramdas Kadam, faces allegations of involvement in illegal sand mining. Opposition parties have also alleged that he runs a dance-cum-orchestra bar in Mumbai under his mother’s name.

The government’s image was dented the most when Dhananjay Munde was asked to resign from the cabinet after his close aide Walmik Karad was accused of killing Santosh Deshmukh, the sarpanch of Massajog village in Beed district. A BJP activist, Deshmukh had also been a booth chief in the constituency of Pankaja Munde, minister and Dhananjay’s cousin. It was a major setback for the government, forcing Fadnavis to remove Munde and overhaul the police hierarchy in the district, which had been under Dhananjay’s influence.

BJP insiders also point to the ongoing fight between Shiv Sena leader Ravindra Dhangekar and BJP leader and Union Minister Murlidhar Mohol over the controversial redevelopment of Pune’s Jain Boarding House. Dhangekar accused of Mohol being involved in the deal, which generated a lot of negative publicity for the BJP among the Jain community. Mohol has denied any role, and Shinde has cautioned Dhangekar against escalating the issue to a level where it would affect ties with the BJP.

But the damage has been done, forcing Fadnavis to intervene. “The Jain community has long supported the BJP, and the party will act in its best interest,” said a BJP leader.

Interestingly, the BJP also believes there is a need to discipline some of its own ministers—like Ports and Fisheries Minister Nitesh Rane, son of former Maharashtra chief minister Narayan Rane. Known for his hardline hindutva statements, Rane’s performance in office has been good, but his outspoken nature has caused discomfort. “Nitesh talks too much,” said a BJP leader. “So Devendra ji will give him a stern message.”

A source close to Fadnavis said the performance audit would apply to all ministers—those from the BJP and allies alike. “Like an exam, all students have to appear for it. It will happen after the government completes one year in office in December,” said the source.

A BJP insider said the assessment would be made on the basis of several parameters, and that ministers may not be dropped from the cabinet immediately. Also, as another BJP leader noted, ministers from the Sena or the NCP cannot just be easily dropped, “since it is a coalition government”. The audit, apparently, will be more on the lines of the stock-taking that was done after the government completed 100 days in office.

Two senior BJP leaders told THE WEEK that the government was “morally corrupt”, and that the only face-saving aspect was that Fadnavis continues to have a clean image. “Why just blame our alliance partners—the BJP is only relatively better,” said one of the leaders. “When you have Pawar and Chhagan Bhujbal as senior ministers, will a real performance audit ever happen?”

from-karur-to-morbi-why-indias-post-tragedy-inquiry-commissions-rarely-bring-about-reform

Sat Nov 01 14:31:51 IST 2025

This is how the story goes: a major tragedy happens, television headlines flash, condolence messages pour in, an inquiry commission is set up and a retired judge is asked to head it. But what follows is often less visible. The report languishes, recommendations are not implemented, victims’ families wait and the cycle repeats.

On September 27, a stampede at a political rally organised by actor-politician Vijay’s Tamilaga Vettri Kazhagam in Tamil Nadu’s Karur killed at least 41 people. Massive overcrowding and poor crowd control were blamed. Immediately, the state government set up a one-member inquiry commission headed by retired High Court judge Justice Aruna Jagadeesan, and announced Rs10 lakh to the families of those killed and Rs1 lakh each for the injured. Days later, the Supreme Court ordered a CBI investigation, expressing reservations over the Madras High Court’s decision to take suo motu cognisance and order a probe by a special investigation team.

Yet, the central question remains: will the commission’s report ever be published in full? Will its findings be implemented? Will accountability follow? If history is any guide, the answer is often no, or not fully.

Once a commission is announced, several problems appear. Reports take months or years. The Liberhan Commission, set up following the 1992 demolition of the Babri Masjid, took 17 years to submit its report. By then, several key witnesses had died or retired, and the political context had changed entirely.

In other cases, commissions have been appointed and forgotten. After the 2015 Godavari Pushkaram stampede in Andhra Pradesh, where 29 people died, the inquiry commission blamed media hype for the event and not systemic failures. Its detailed findings were never widely discussed, and no major crowd management reforms followed. Similarly, after the 2022 Morbi bridge collapse in Gujarat that killed 135 people, an SIT found corrosion in cables, improper welding and overcrowding because of unregulated ticketing. Yet, systemic reform remains elusive. The government has been accused of shielding key officials, and the full SIT report has not been publicly released. The same template played out in the 2018 Amritsar Dussehra train tragedy (59 deaths), the 2019 Surat coaching centre fire (22 deaths) and the 2024 Hathras stampede (121 deaths).

The root of this pattern lies partly in the Commissions of Inquiry Act, 1952, which governs most such investigations. It allows governments, both Centre and states, to decide the commission’s terms of reference, appoint its members, set its timelines and, crucially, keep its report confidential or release only parts of it. These commissions are recommendatory and their findings do not automatically lead to criminal prosecutions or administrative penalties. Implementation depends entirely on the political will of the government that appointed them, which is often the same government under scrutiny.

The Srikrishna Commission, which investigated the 1992-93 Mumbai riots, submitted a 700-page report naming political figures and officials responsible for lapses. The report was tabled, but never acted upon. The Nanavati-Mehta Commission, on the 2002 Gujarat riots, submitted its findings after 17 years and multiple extensions. Implementation of its recommendations remains selective. In 2020, the Justice Aruna Jagadeesan Commission—headed by the same judge probing the Karur tragedy—investigated police firing during the Thoothukudi Sterlite protests that killed 13 civilians. While the report was tabled in the Tamil Nadu assembly in 2022, few of its recommendations on police accountability were implemented.

“Commissions in India often serve as shock absorbers for public anger,” says Faizan Mustafa, a constitutional law expert and vice-chancellor of Chanakya National Law University, Patna. “They defuse pressure, buy governments time, and by the time reports are ready, the political heat has cooled.”

Even when commissions work swiftly, governments sometimes sit on the reports. Under the Act, there is no time limit for publication. In many cases, reports have been sealed indefinitely. For instance, the Justice Gokulakrishnan Commission’s report on the 1998 Coimbatore bomb blasts was never made public.

When reports are finally published, implementation tends to be partial at best. For instance, the Kumbh Mela stampedes. Almost every commission recommended crowd-flow management systems, barricade design and emergency exits. Yet, these remain largely advisory.

The National Disaster Management Authority guidelines on crowd management incorporate many of these lessons. However, compliance is left to states, with no penalty for non-implementation. A senior government official who did not want to be named told THE WEEK, “Crowd management reforms remain guidelines without teeth. Unless states are audited for compliance, we will keep issuing advisories after every tragedy.”

Even when failures are identified, accountability rarely extends beyond the lower rungs. Contractors, junior engineers or local police officers are made scapegoats. Senior bureaucrats or ministers who approve unsafe projects, delay clearances or ignore warnings often escape scrutiny.

“India’s inquiry commissions are structurally toothless,” says former Supreme Court judge Justice Hrishikesh Roy. “Unless findings are tied to legal consequences, they serve little more than symbolic purpose.”

For victims’ families, the consequences are devastating. Families of those killed in the 2017 Elphinstone Road station stampede in Mumbai say they were promised reforms in station design and evacuation routes. Yet, eight years later, crowding continues.

“We have turned commissions into ritual responses to public outrage,” says Supreme Court lawyer Satyam Singh Rajput. “They are set up quickly, submit voluminous reports and then vanish into bureaucratic oblivion. Unless the law mandates time-bound implementation and oversight, every new commission will only repeat the failures of the last.”

Added M. Bhatia, a public policy expert: “Reforming the inquiry process requires stronger laws and far greater transparency. Commission reports should be tabled in the legislature within a fixed time frame and made public. Each inquiry must operate within clear deadlines, and an independent oversight body should monitor whether governments actually act on recommendations. Most important, the process must be victim-centric. Families deserve access to full reports, participation in hearings and regular updates. Justice cannot remain a promise on paper; it must be seen to be done.”

When inquiry commissions fail, the public begins to see them as performative. The cost of this is not only emotional, but also institutional. Citizens lose faith in government promises, administrations lose credibility and the machinery of justice loses moral authority.

So, until these commissions serve as genuine instruments of accountability, the only things that will change are the names of the tragedies.

israel-palestine-conflict-no-alternative-to-the-two-state-solution

Sat Oct 11 12:33:44 IST 2025

OCTOBER 7 MARKED the second anniversary of the brutal violence unleashed by Hamas against Israel, in which nearly 1,200 people, mostly civilians, were killed. It was the most gruesome attack on Israel since the Holocaust and has been described as its 9/11 moment. With over 250 civilians, including women, children and the elderly, taken captive into Gaza, fully capturing the trauma of the Israeli population is neither easy nor simple.

Calling the act ‘terrorism’ became political and led to a dilution of support for the Palestinians. As a result, several well-meaning and otherwise conscientious leaders, commentators and pundits refused to admit, recognise or condemn the violence and brutality inflicted on Israeli women and children. They were unable to differentiate between supporting the Palestinian cause and condemning violence against women.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu responded strongly with two closely linked objectives: to secure the release of the hostages, which also included some foreigners and dual citizens, and to completely destroy the military and political base of Hamas. This strategy plunged the Gaza strip into a cycle of increased violence, more casualties, destruction and displacement. Palestinian officials estimate over 68,000 deaths, including a large proportion of women and children.

The ongoing violence and prolonged suffering of the Palestinians shifted international opinion against Israel. Even countries that initially supported Israel immediately after the October 7 violence began adopting a neutral or more nuanced stance or revealed their pro-Palestinian leanings. Protesters took over several western capitals and Ivy League institutions in the United States, in contrast to the quietness of the Arab street. As a result, many western countries were forced to recalibrate their policies on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and move towards recognising a Palestinian state.

Not wanting to be left behind, several groups and states sought to join the conflict and demonstrate their pro-Palestinian credentials. Hezbollah in Lebanon and the Houthis in Yemen entered the fight, along with groups in Syria and Iraq. Iran, which supports and guides many of these groups, also became involved, leading to two rounds of open Israel-Iran confrontations, the most intense being the 12-day clash last June. As a result, Israelis were often forced to seek refuge in bunkers, safe rooms and other shelters to escape hostile missiles, drones and other aerial projectiles.

Two years later, Israel could claim that it has significantly weakened the military capabilities of Hezbollah and Hamas, and even damaged Iran’s nuclear infrastructure. Knowledge and skills are never truly irreversible, and one can only say that Israel has reduced the military potential of its adversaries and possibly delayed their ability to confront it for a few years. The complete destruction of an opponent is every general’s dream, but is least likely in modern times. Therefore, the long-term benefits of this offensive approach depend on Israel’s ability to capitalise on this limited window of opportunity to delegitimise the goals and strategies of its adversaries.

The two-year confrontation also highlights four distinct features. First, after prolonged denial and hesitation, mainstream Arab-Islamic countries have accepted the brutality of the October 7 attack and come around to describing it as terrorism.

Second, there is growing recognition that Hamas is a liability for the long-term progress of the Palestinian movement and the realisation of statehood. Despite its mediatory role, or perhaps because of it, Qatar has realised that the militant Palestinian group is not an easy partner and would not accept a workable solution. Devoid of niceties, US President Donald Trump’s latest 20-point Gaza plan aims to end Hamas’s political influence. Interestingly, this is supported by several Muslim-majority non-Arab countries, including Türkiye and Pakistan.

Third, the internationally recognised Palestine National Authority, led by the octogenarian Mahmoud Abbas, which remained an ineffective, if not mute, player during the past two years, is seeking to bring the Gaza Strip–lost to Hamas in July 2007–under its control.

Fourth, the brutality of the Israel-Hamas war once again underscores the need for a long-term solution rooted in the dignity and honour of all the parties involved in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Although Herculean, there is no alternative to the peaceful coexistence of the state of Israel and the state of Palestine with security and peace. Such a path would serve as a fitting tribute to all the Israelis and Palestinians who were killed on October 7 and in its aftermath.

Against this backdrop, the peace talks on Gaza that began in Egypt on October 6 offer a sliver of hope and a potential opening for diplomatic engagement, however fragile.

The author teaches contemporary Middle East at Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.

bihar-elections-2025-can-tejashwi-yadav-chirag-paswan-prashant-kishor-reshape-states-political-future

Sat Oct 11 12:14:11 IST 2025

IN 2005, BIHAR had two assembly elections. The first gave a fractured verdict. And the second a seismic shift, ending the reign of Lalu Prasad's Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD). That era was defined by three socialist titans—Lalu, Nitish Kumar and Ram Vilas Paswan—once allies, later rivals.

Two decades on, Nitish remains a towering figure, steering the National Democratic Alliance (NDA) as its chief ministerial candidate. Yet, the 2025 elections signal a profound change, not just in leadership but in the very fabric of Bihar’s politics, as a new generation steps into the fray.

In politics, a generation is measured not just in years but in the churn of leadership. Demographers might peg it at 25 years, genealogists at the span between fathers and sons. By either yardstick, Bihar stands on the cusp of a transition. The state’s political shift began in 1990 with the Mandal Commission’s fallout, propelling Lalu to power. The 2025 contest is defined by three younger leaders—Tejashwi Yadav, Chirag Paswan and Prashant Kishor. They hold the key not only to forming the next government, but to reshaping the state’s politics.

This November, Bihar’s two-phase polls will see 14 lakh first-time voters, with those under 30 comprising more than 20 per cent of the 7.43 crore electorate. These Gen Z voters have no memory of Lalu’s 'jungle raj' or the early promise of Nitish’s 'sushasan'. While caste legacies have long dictated Bihar’s electoral battles, a rising, aspirational youth could redefine the state’s political narrative.

All three leaders are heirs, albeit in distinct ways. Tejashwi, son of former chief ministers Lalu and Rabri Devi, carries the mantle of the Mandal-era social justice movement. Chirag, son of the late Ram Vilas Paswan—a dalit leader who served as union minister on several occasions—seeks to reclaim his father’s legacy. Kishor is not a dynast but a master strategist, and has inherited the machinery of modern campaigning, having orchestrated Narendra Modi’s 2014 triumph, Nitish’s 2015 victory and Mamata Banerjee’s 2021 win.

All three began their political journeys around 2014 and now they converge with the ambition to lead Bihar’s restless youth. Tejashwi, 35, is the most seasoned of the trio. A legislator since 2015, twice deputy chief minister, and now leader of the opposition, he commands the RJD’s formidable Muslim-Yadav vote bank. He embodies generational change in OBC politics and is the opposition’s de facto chief ministerial face, though its ally Congress has been reluctant to formally endorse him as it seeks to revive its own influence in a state it once dominated.

Tejashwi's crowd-pulling prowess was evident in the boisterous turnout at the Vote Adhikar Yatra, led by Rahul Gandhi, and his own Bihar Adhikar Yatra. Yet, his challenge lies in expanding beyond the Muslim-Yadav base, which the RJD is addressing by fielding more non-Yadav OBCs, dalits and upper-caste candidates.

Both the NDA and Kishor’s Jan Suraaj party aim to chip away at Tejashwi’s Muslim-Yadav base, but that will not be an easy task. “He has shown he is not only young and energetic but also has a vision for Bihar centred on social and economic justice,” said RJD spokesperson Nawal Kishore. “Even during his time as deputy CM, he delivered on jobs and the caste census.”

In a state plagued by economic stagnation, unemployment and migration, Tejashwi has tailored his promises to the youth: a domicile policy, 65 per cent reservation, a youth commission, free exam forms, student scholarships and an end to paper leaks. He bears both the advantage of his father’s legacy and the burden of its negative associations. Yet, he has cultivated an image as an assertive yet courteous leader eager to govern. “The people of Bihar have accepted him as their leader. Nitish Kumar has no fresh ideas. Whatever promises we make, Nitish Kumar steals them. The CM has no roadmap for development. There will be massive change in Bihar once the RJD wins. Tejashwi is the best and only challenger in the state,” said Kishore.

Chirag, 42, began his political ascent in 2014, winning the Lok Sabha seat once held by his father. In 2020, he strategically fielded candidates against Nitish’s JD(U) while remaining loyal to the BJP. He stepped out of his father’s shadow after Paswan's death, crafting an independent image to reclaim the dalit vote. His legitimacy was cemented when the NDA awarded his Lok Janshakti Party (Ram Vilas) five Lok Sabha seats in 2024, all of which it won.

Chirag projects himself as a champion of inclusive growth, appealing to the 25–45 age group—nearly 45 per cent of Bihar’s population—hungry for jobs and clean governance. His public sparring with Nitish, questioning the chief minister’s law-and-order record while accepting his candidature, positions him as both insider and challenger. Increasingly, Chirag employs Hindu symbolism and 'Bihar pride' rhetoric to transcend his dalit base. “Our leader has made clear that this time there is no vacancy for the CM post. But next time, he will be chief minister,” said LJP spokesperson Vineet Singh.

Prashant Kishor, 48, is a product of modern campaign machinery. Through his Jan Suraaj initiative, he has recast himself as a reformer-politician. His two-year padyatra across Bihar, preaching change and promising a new politics, aims to break the state’s bipolar electoral contest. “It is a watershed moment in Bihar’s politics. Unlike past elections dominated by identity politics, this time the core issues are corruption, forced migration and unemployment,” said Jan Suraaj spokesperson Vivek Kumar.

Transitioning from strategist to leader is fraught with challenges. As a Brahmin, Kishor lacks a caste base, unlike Yadav or Paswan, whose communities have long shaped Bihar’s politics. He also lacks a tested cadre but brings unmatched electoral acumen. Modelling himself on Arvind Kejriwal’s early years, Kishor blends movement-building with sharp attacks on political rivals. Contesting all 243 seats—a feat unmatched in recent Bihar elections—he appeals to first-time voters, students and the educated middle class, urging them to vote for “the future of their children”.

Kishor’s promise of systemic change faces the test of Bihar’s caste arithmetic. Yet, his entry injects unpredictability. Whether he damages the NDA or the Mahagathbandhan more will only be clear after the elections.

Meanwhile, the BJP and the JD(U) rely on caste arithmetic and state largesse, including recent cash incentives for women and youth and major infrastructure announcements. Bolstered by the mass appeal of Modi and Nitish, they are confident their governance record will ensure continuity.

Bihar’s youth are restless, and Tejashwi, Chirag and Kishor embody distinct visions—social justice, aspiration and technocratic reform. The 2025 polls may not displace the old guard, but they mark the first time a trio of younger leaders competes to capture Bihar’s political imagination.

nothing-but-backdoor-entry-for-marathas-chhagan-bhujbal

Sat Oct 04 17:03:45 IST 2025

Interview/ Chhagan Bhujbal, Maharashtra minister for food, civil supplies and consumer protection

CHHAGAN BHUJBAL, Maharashtra minister for food, civil supplies and consumer protection, is known as a firebrand leader. Even at 77, his fighting spirit has not diminished—and that became evident when he called a meeting of OBC leaders after the state government announced that Marathas in the Marathwada region can be recognised as Kunbis (an OBC caste) on the basis of the Hyderabad Gazetteer as the primary historical document.

As it could help Marathas get reservation in jobs and education, the decision upset OBC communities, a core vote bank of the BJP. They feel betrayed, Bhujbal told THE WEEK in an exclusive interview.

Soon after the announcement, Bhujbal wrote to Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis, saying the government resolution (GR) on the matter was issued under pressure from the Maratha community, without it being tabled before the cabinet. Bhujbal demanded that the government decision be withdrawn.

According to Bhujbal, Marathas can be included both in the OBC quota as well as the SEBC (socially and educationally backward communities) quota, as per the 2024 SEBC Act that provides 10 per cent reservation to communities such as the Marathas.

“The GR also makes a departure from established procedure for caste verification and validity. Having two different procedures for the same class, that is the OBCs, amounts to arbitrary action and discrimination which has no connection to the common objective of verification and grant of caste certificate,” he said.

Edited excerpts from an interview.

Q/ You have written an eight-page letter to Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis, opposing the GR on Maratha reservation. Are you opposed to Maratha reservation?

A/ I am not opposed to Maratha reservation; I am opposed to their entry into the OBC quota. The GR was issued hurriedly and under tremendous pressure. It was not discussed in the cabinet, as is needed. A GR requires cabinet nod. Nobody was consulted.

There are 374 castes in the OBC category. It is not a caste; it is a class of 374 castes and this GR is backdoor entry of Marathas into the OBC category, when it has been clearly said in High Court and Supreme Court judgments that Kunbi and Marathas are different castes. SC judgments have clearly said that Marathas are not socially backward, and the reservation provision is only for those who are socially backward.

Q/ What is the feeling among OBCs after the government issued the GR?

A/ The OBCs are very upset. Already eight-nine persons have committed suicide because this GR was issued. Five petitions have been filed in the HC to challenge the GR on Maratha reservation.

Prior to 2019, there were demands for reservations from Marathas, Patels, Jats and Gurjars. To find a solution to that, the Narendra Modi government at the Centre introduced 10 per cent reservation under the Economically Weaker Sections (EWS) category. After this was implemented, the agitations in Gujarat, Rajasthan and Haryana stopped, but Marathas did not stop when the fact was that in EWS alone, Maratha community got 8 per cent reservation.

Q/ How big is the Maratha community in Maharashtra in terms of its share in the state’s population. Some estimates say about 30 per cent.

A/ They claim that they are 30 per cent and more. So let us do some arithmetic. There are 54 per cent OBCs, 7 per cent scheduled tribes, 13 per cent scheduled caste, and 3 per cent Brahmins. The total comes to 77 per cent. The remaining 23 per cent includes Jains, Muslims, Christians and Sikhs. Any single large community in all of our states, they are not more than 17-18 per cent…. But they claim to be more than 30 per cent. Listen: they are not that big; they are hardly 16-17 per cent. Of this, nearly 6-7 per cent are already Kunbis, because Marathas in Vidarbha have already received the Kunbi status long ago. So only 9-10 per cent remain—yet they make such noise.

Q/ What about the findings of Justice Sandeep Shinde committee (set up to expedite the process of granting reservation to the Maratha community)?

A/ The Shinde committee has got too many extensions already. It went to Telangana to find historical records; they have checked lakhs of documents. On the basis of this research, already 2.4 lakh Kunbi certificates have been issued. So their work is over. So why the extension now? This means the only purpose is to make the remaining Marathas as Kunbis. So now they are talking about Kunbi relations. Suppose I am a Mali (an OBC caste), and my wife is a Brahmin and you are her brother. So, can you become OBC now?

There are these ambiguities. You can’t change caste by just giving an affidavit.

Q/ So do you think Fadnavis came under pressure from Manoj Jarange Patil and other Maratha leaders?

A/ I clearly think so. There were pressure tactics. The first Himalayan blunder was that the court said, “Let them [protest] at Kharghar, Navi Mumbai.” You should not have let them even enter. You saw what happened after they entered. Then the court said, “Remove them”, so government had to act. Now, anything can happen when the police try to remove a person who is agitating. So pressure further builds up.

The reservation was given in a hurry, and even the word ‘eligible’ was removed in the subsequent version of the GR. And now they are claiming OBC reservation has not been touched. When you try to make two persons sit on the same chair, the person who has been occupying the chair will be so uncomfortable that he will have no option but to get up and go, or fight.

Q/ So this is backdoor entry for the Marathas into the OBC quota?

A/ Clearly, this is nothing but backdoor entry for Marathas into the OBC category. So far they were doing it chupke chupke (silently)—sometimes using force, sometimes making payments. Now it is open backdoor entry. So we are left with no option but to knock on the doors of judiciary.

Q/ So there will be no OBC agitation?

A/ There will be agitation, of course. But we will simultaneously fight it out in court also. Five petitions have been filed by the Samata Parishad and Mali, Sonar, Kunbi and Nabhik communities. There is the High Court, the Supreme Court—somewhere we will get justice. Else, the streets are open.

Q/ Was there pressure on you from the Nationalist Congress Party to not speak, as your party is seen as Maratha-dominated?

A/ There is no pressure on me. Nobody can put pressure on me. I have been working on this issue for decades. I left the Shiv Sena because of the Mandal commission. I have suffered many attacks because I left. When the NCP was formed, the Congress high command, and many other leaders, called me and said, “Don’t go with Sharad Pawar; will make you next chief minister.” I told them that Pawar has implemented the Mandal commission here in Maharashtra, so I am going with him. So I have been fighting for this issue since then. I had even resigned from the Shinde government on this issue. Shinde told me not to say a word about the resignation and continue working.

Q/ So you are ready to quit even today?

A/ No, now I am not ready. Let them sack me from the ministry. I will continue to fight from within; now I will not leave.