How the Modi era altered the nature of politics & policy
Narendra Modi’s political story remains incomplete, as does the story of the current phase of Indian politics. But what is certain is that by the time Modi ends his political reign, India would be radically different from when he took over
The Narendra Modi years — as the post-2014 period of Indian history is bound to be known — have redefined the nature of politics in India in three different respects. It has changed the nature of political and electoral competition. It has altered the way political power is exercised. And it has transformed political and social realities on the ground. Each of these elements has, together, changed the nature of the Indian State.
Winning power
First, how did Modi get to power, and how does he sustain political power?
The most revealing statistic that explains the story of the post-2014 years is the number of voters who have reposed their faith in the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). In 2009, 78 million voters backed the party. In 2014, in an election that was fought solely in Modi’s name in the backdrop of anger against the United Progressive Alliance and hopes of a better future, over 171 million voters supported the BJP. And in 2019, after five years in office, in an election that was once again a referendum on the Modi years, at least 220 million voters supported the BJP.
This unprecedented expansion of the party’s support base in a decade — from a 19% vote share to a 37% vote share — was due to Modi’s ability to be a Hindutva mascot, a modernist, a development-oriented leader, a pro-poor welfarist, a clean political figure with no vested interests, and a strong nationalist who adversaries feared and the world respected. Whether there was a contradiction between some of these avatars, or whether they corresponded with reality, is not the point. Voters picked and chose what they wanted, they trusted his intent and rallied behind him.
The personal combined with the social. Modi, along with Amit Shah, refashioned the BJP into a party of inclusive Hindutva. This meant that there was a steady expansion in its support base and, for the first time in its history, a political offshoot of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) had come close to its vision of unifying Hindu society. The BJP is India’s Dalit party — having the highest number of Dalit legislators in two successive election cycles and having obtained more Dalit support than any other national or regional party in this period. It is the party of India’s Other Backward Classes (OBCS) — having the highest number of community representatives as legislators in its ranks both in 2014 and 2019. And it has continued to be a part of “upper castes”. It is a party of Hindu men, but it is also a party of Hindu women.
This ability to weave together a multicaste Hindu coalition has another element. If the language of inclusion, representation, and social welfare programmes played a role in bringing together various Hindu social groups under one umbrella formation, so did explicit communal politics, directed sharply against Muslims.
Muslims, in the dominant BJP narrative, as it is communicated on the ground, have exercised political veto in Indian politics for too long; they and parties that seek their votes cannot be trusted to secure India’s national interests; the task of seeking historical justice for sins committed by medieval Muslim rulers is not yet over; Muslim men are out to lure Hindu women and trap them; there is an effort, through the influx of Muslim refugees and uncontrolled Muslim population growth, to change the demographic reality of India and make Hindus a minority. All of this means that Hindus must stay united, and Muslims must be viewed with scepticism and kept at an arm’s length from political power.
Irrespective of the distortions that had crept into the old-style politics of secularism (and it had indeed become a hollow ideological enterprise equated with appeasing the most orthodox elements of Muslim leadership), the current political narrative may not be reflected in ground realities (apart from some aspects of it being downright insidious) — but there is no denying that it has popular resonance. The systematic political exclusion of Muslims and their demonisation is not a bug but an essential feature of the post-2014 political system. And it has not just defined the BJP’S rise, but also redefined India’s electoral landscape, with other parties muting their support for Muslims, remaining silent in the wake of discrimination, and highlighting their Hindu religious credentials to remain electorally salient.
All of this has happened on the back of a 24x7 organisational machine. A motivated cadre, relentless messaging through every conceivable platform, boots on the ground when it comes to booth-level mobilisation of voters, and constant communication between the party leadership and workers, and workers and voters have helped the BJP both communicate its politics but also listen to feedback and adapt.
Exercising power
The remarkable electoral success — and the factors that enabled this electoral success — have shaped Modi’s stint as PM.
For one, Modi is the strongest PM since Indira Gandhi during her stint from 1971-to 1977. This is not surprising. The BJP is in power due to Modi’s appeal. The difference between a Modi-led BJP and a BJP without Modi is, arguably, close to 150 seats. The additional 140 million votes that the BJP has got since 2009 is largely due to Modi’s appeal. All of this means that there is a remarkable concentration of political and executive authority in the PMO. This is not a cabinet where Modi is just the first among equals; it is not a system with a team of rivals. It is a political regime where one leader calls the shots.
This has had clear benefits.
The PM has cracked down on the decentralised corruption that marked recent governments when ministers and bureaucrats felt empowered enough to seek bribes and cater to entrenched lobbies. The PM has identified projects that matter to his governance agenda and ensured that the entire system throws its weight behind it — from rural housing to distribution of gas cylinders in the first term to ensuring safe and adequate drinking water in the second term. The PM has undoubtedly revolutionised welfare delivery in the country, using existing tools (Aadhaar and mobiles) and specific initiatives (Jan Dhan) and then scaling these up. Modi has invested his personal political capital in initiatives that were once merely footnotes in government schemes, for instance, Swachh Bharat.
And he has pushed forward a vision that rests on support to entrepreneurship, creating a hospitable climate for domestic and foreign capital, prioritising domestic manufacturing and self-reliance, reducing regulatory and legal bottlenecks, and supporting national champions with the ability to go global. But while the concentration of executive authority has led to advantages, it has also had other consequences.
Political and economic decision-making does not, arguably, go through the rigorous process of checks and balances that would help think through all implications. This has led to impulsive policy moves, with demonetisation being the most obvious example. And because key decisions carry the stamp of the PM, it becomes difficult to walk back from it for the fear of eroding the PM’S standing. This was most obvious in the case of the farm laws, the most serious policy setback that the government has faced in its eight-year stint.
As in Indira Gandhi’s time, a powerful executive has also led to the diminishing of other independent institutions, from the legislature to the judiciary, from the media to civil society, and an increasing tendency to treat dissent as anti-national. It also reduces the incentives for others within the system to speak truth to power, for underplaying problems is seen as a more effective route to political survival. The slogan of a “strong government” appealed to Indian voters, but this may well have happened at the cost of democratic accountability.
If Modi’s centrality has shaped both the BJP’S electoral success and governance record, so has the party’s ideological outlook. For the first time in its history, the post-2014 period offered the BJP an opportunity to govern India with an absolute majority. This has allowed it to shape laws and institutions in a manner that conforms to its agenda, its political promises, and the social coalition that drove it to power. From the Citizenship (Amendment) Act to flirting with the idea of a National Register of Citizens, from officially celebrating the Supreme Court verdict on Ayodhya to revoking Jammu & Kashmir’s special constitutional status, the BJP has been unapologetic about implementing what has been the Sangh’s demands for decades.
Historians will struggle with precisely this paradox of the Narendra Modi years.
It has made the Indian State more efficient by improving its delivery, but also made it more illiberal by reducing the instruments of accountability. It was socially revolutionary with its actual initiatives for the poor across religions and castes, but also politically exclusionary with its unstated policy of treating the country’s largest religious minority with suspicion. It reinforced a personality cult around one leader, but also reflected a deeper democratic undercurrent where existing social prejudices and impulses got reflected in State policy. Modi’s political story remains incomplete, as does the story of the current phase of Indian politics. But what is certain is that by the time Modi ends his political reign, India would be radically different from when he took over.