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By:

Yogesh Kumar Goyal

19 April 2026 at 12:32:19 pm

The Exit Poll Mirage

While exit polls sketch a dramatic map of India’s electoral mood, the line between projection and verdict remains perilously thin. With the ballots across five politically pivotal arenas of West Bengal, Tamil Nadu, Assam, Kerala and Puducherry falling silent until the results are announced on May 4, poll surveyors have filled the vacuum with exit poll numbers that excite, alarm and often mislead. These projections have already begun shaping narratives well before D-Day on May 4. If India’s...

The Exit Poll Mirage

While exit polls sketch a dramatic map of India’s electoral mood, the line between projection and verdict remains perilously thin. With the ballots across five politically pivotal arenas of West Bengal, Tamil Nadu, Assam, Kerala and Puducherry falling silent until the results are announced on May 4, poll surveyors have filled the vacuum with exit poll numbers that excite, alarm and often mislead. These projections have already begun shaping narratives well before D-Day on May 4. If India’s electoral history offers any lesson, it is that exit polls illuminate trends, not truths. Bengal’s Brinkmanship Nowhere is the drama more intense than in West Bengal, arguably the most keenly watched contest among all five arenas. The contest for its 294 seats has long transcended the state’s borders, becoming a proxy for national ambition. Most exit polls now point to a striking possibility of a Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) majority, in some cases a commanding one. Such an outcome would mark a political earthquake. For decades, Bengal has resisted the BJP’s advances, its politics shaped instead by regional forces - first the Left Front, then Mamata Banerjee’s Trinamool Congress (TMC). Yet the arithmetic of the polls suggests that the BJP’s campaign built on organisational muscle and the promise of ‘parivartan’ (change) may have finally breached that wall. The TMC, meanwhile, appears to be grappling with anti-incumbency and persistent allegations of corruption. Still, one outlier poll suggests it could yet retain power, a reminder that Bengal’s electorate has a habit of confounding linear predictions. Here, more than anywhere else, the gap between projection and reality may prove widest. Steady Script If Bengal is volatile, the Assam outcome looks fairly settled. Across agencies, there is near unanimity that the BJP-led alliance is poised not just to retain power, but to do so comfortably. With the majority mark at 64 in the 126-member assembly, most estimates place the ruling coalition well above that threshold, in some cases approaching triple digits. The opposition Congress alliance, by contrast, appears stranded far behind. Under Himanta Biswa Sarma, the BJP has fused development rhetoric with a keen sense of identity politics, crafting a coalition that has proved resilient. A third consecutive term would underline the party’s deepening institutional hold over the state. Kerala, by contrast, may be returning to its old rhythm. For decades, the state has alternated power between the Left Democratic Front (LDF) and the Congress-led United Democratic Front (UDF) with metronomic regularity. The LDF broke that pattern in the last election, securing an unprecedented second term. Exit polls now suggest that experiment may be short-lived. Most projections place the UDF comfortably above the 71-seat majority mark in the 140-member assembly, with the LDF trailing significantly. If borne out, this would reaffirm Kerala’s instinctive resistance to prolonged incumbency. Governance records matter here, but so does a deeply ingrained political culture that treats alternation as a form of accountability. Familiar Duel? Tamil Nadu, long dominated by its Dravidian titans, shows little appetite for disruption as per most exit polls, which place M.K. Stalin’s DMK-led alliance above the halfway mark of 118 in the 234-seat assembly. Yet, some sections have suggested a possible upset could be staged by actor Vijay’s TVK, the wildcard in the Tamil Nadu battle. Most polls, however, are clear that the opposition AIADMK alliance, though competitive, seems unlikely to unseat the incumbent DMK. In Puducherry, the smallest of the five contests, the implications may nonetheless be outsized. Exit polls give the BJP-led alliance a clear majority in the 30-seat assembly, relegating the Congress-led bloc to a distant second. Numerically modest, the result would carry symbolic weight. A victory here would further entrench the BJP’s presence in the south, a region where it has historically struggled to gain ground. For all their allure, exit polls are imperfect instruments. They rest on limited samples, extrapolated across vast and diverse electorates. In a country where millions vote, the opinions of a few thousand can only approximate reality and often fail to capture its nuances. There is also the problem of the ‘silent voter’ - individuals who either conceal their preferences or shift them late. Recent elections have offered ample reminders. In states such as Haryana and Jharkhand, and even in Maharashtra where margins were misjudged, exit polls have erred, and sometimes dramatically sp. Moreover, the modern exit poll is as much a media event as a methodological exercise. Packaged with graphics, debates and breathless commentary, it fills the void between voting and counting with a sense of immediacy that may be more theatrical than analytical. That said, to dismiss them entirely would be too easy. Exit polls do serve a purpose in sketching broad contours, highlighting regional variations and offering clues about voter sentiment. For political parties, they are early signals and act as tentative guides for observers. Taken together, this cycle’s exit polls suggest a broad, if tentative, pattern of the BJP consolidating in the east and north-east, and opposition alliances regaining ground in parts of the south, and continuity prevailing in key states. But patterns are not outcomes and only counted votes confer legitimacy. It is only on May 4 when the sealed electronic voting machines will deliver that clarity. They will determine whether Bengal witnesses a political rupture or a resilient incumbent, whether Assam’s stability holds, whether Kerala’s pendulum swings back, and whether Tamil Nadu stays its course. (The writer is a senior journalist and political analyst. Views personel.)

Between Expediency and Indifference: The Arab States’ Paradox with Palestinians

Updated: Oct 22, 2024

The Arab States’ Paradox with Palestinians

The conflict between Israel and Hamas has sparked an exodus of hundreds of thousands of Palestinian refugees from Gaza since Israel’s retaliation began following the Hamas attacks of October 7, 2023. Following Israel’s ferocious and unrelenting pounding of Gaza amid much moral outrage, there has long been talk indicating that Israel’s conservative government led by Benjamin Netanhayu are aiming for the wholescale expulsion of Gaza’s Palestinian population.

The Arab States’ Paradox with Palestinians

What was striking in the immediate days and months following the October 7 attacks was the markedly muted reaction from the Arab states. While Saudi Arabia, a major U.S. ally in the region, has left the door ajar for peace with Israel, and Morocco, Bahrain, and the UAE refrained from recalling their ambassadors, only Jordan, where Palestinians constitute a large portion of the population, has taken significant diplomatic steps.

This tepid response underscored a long-standing reality: the Palestinian cause, though emotionally resonant with the Arab public, rarely sways government policy in the Arab states who have largely been indifferent to the plight of the Palestinians.

The Arab States’ Paradox with Palestinians

This tension between Palestinians and their Arab hosts has had deep roots. The Nakba of 1948 (when hundreds of thousands of Palestinians were displaced by the creation of Israel) was a blow to the legitimacy of Arab regimes who had failed to stifle the nascent Jewish state in its cradle.

A pivotal moment in the relations between the Palestinians and the Arab States came in the wake of the resounding Israeli victory in the Six-Day war of 1967, which trounced the coalition of Egypt-led Arab states and saw a dramatic series of territorial changes.

The expansion of Israel was followed by a major expulsion of Palestinians in 1948 and led to the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) emerging as an assertive, somewhat independent voice of the Palestinians. Before this, the Palestinian cause was largely subsumed under broader Arab military agendas.

But after 1967, Palestinians began asserting their independence, a shift that unsettled Arab leaders. Their fears were well-founded: the PLO’s increasing autonomy in places like Lebanon led to unrest, culminating in conflicts such as the Israeli invasion of 1982, which dismantled PLO structures in Beirut.

In an insightful interview given to the American magazine Politico in January, former U.S. Ambassador Ryan Crocker observed that despite decades of vocal support for Palestinian rights, many Arab governments have long harboured feelings of “fear and loathing” toward the Palestinians - a sentiment particularly strong in Egypt, which continues to resist opening its borders to fleeing Gazans.

Arab governments, fearing internal instability, sought to contain Palestinian activism and the aftermath of the 1967 war solidified this policy shift: rather than confronting Israel, Arab states focused on controlling the Palestinian populations within their own borders, said Crocker.

Crocker suggests that Arab states’ indifference to the Palestinians indicates that Netanyahu would need to offer only minimal concessions - vague promises of autonomy rather than substantive statehood to the Palestinians during negotiations.

The most dramatic example of this internal tussle between the PLO and the Arab states occurred during ‘Black September’ in 1970, when the PLO attempted to overthrow the Jordanian monarchy. Syrian forces, led by Hafez al-Assad, withheld support, allowing Jordan to crush the uprising. The irony here is while Arab states publicly supported Palestinian rights, they often took actions that undermined the Palestinian cause, as Assad’s anti-PLO policies in Syria and Jordan’s military response in 1970 illustrate.

Despite fiery rhetoric about Palestinian liberation, many Arab governments viewed the PLO and its secular nationalism as a threat to their own sovereignty. Even Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser, Israel’s most dogged adversary, once warned of the dangers posed by Palestinian militancy.

This would explain Egypt’s vehement refusal to grant refuge to Gazans during the current conflict - a stance reinforced by the ideological divide between Hamas, with its roots in the Muslim Brotherhood, and the Egyptian regime.

Despite strong public support for the Palestinian cause, Arab states often prioritized their national interests over solidarity with the PLO. Financial pledges from Arab countries frequently went unfulfilled; for instance, a 1978 inter-Arab agreement promised substantial funding to the PLO, but only Saudi Arabia honoured its commitment. As military defeats and internal conflicts mounted, Arab states grew increasingly hesitant to confront Israel, leading to a shift from supporting the Palestinian struggle to seeking individual peace agreements.

The late 20th century marked a turning point, particularly after Egypt’s peace treaty with Israel in 1979, which isolated Cairo within the Arab League. The end of the Cold War further transformed the geopolitical landscape, diminishing the influence of radical regimes and prompting moderate Arab states to pursue closer ties with the United States. By the early 1990s, many Arab states began engaging in talks with Israel.

The June 1996 Arab summit underscored a strategic decision to recognize Israel, even amid lingering hostility from certain nations.

Perhaps the biggest irony today is in Shia Iran’s support for the Sunni Hamas. Certainly, the two ideologically opposed entities have only their sworn enmity with Israel in common. But the past sheds light on a dark chapter, largely forgotten in the West and elsewhere today.

In the early days of the Lebanese Civil War, in 1975, the Tall al-Za‘tar refugee camp in East Beirut was besieged by Lebanese militias and ultimately levelled to the ground. A decade later, in 1985, just three years after the infamous Shatila massacre, another horrific chapter unfolded in what became known as the “War of the Camps.” Lebanese Shia militias, backed by Syria and Iran, laid siege to the Palestinian camps of Shatila and Bourj el-Barajneh, with the fighting and blockades lasting nearly three years. Untold numbers of Palestinians were killed or wounded during this brutal period.

The irony, of course, is in today’s narrative. Iran, which is now seen as a major backer of Hamas and a purported supporter of the Palestinian cause, was very much part of the forces that once besieged these same Palestinians. Their relationship is less about ideological solidarity and more a marriage of convenience—another tool in Iran’s broader strategy of projecting influence and power across the region through alliances with militias and proxies.

While the West and the rest of the World may not remember the “War of the Camps,” both the Iranians and Palestinians do. Today, Tehran’s support for the Palestinian cause is tactical, and not born out of any deep-seated love for the Palestinian people or their struggle.

The tensions between Palestinians and their Arab hosts was starkly illustrated last month in Jordan’s parliamentary elections when Jordan’s Islamist opposition, the Islamic Action Front - the political arm of the Muslim Brotherhood - captured a fifth of the seats in Jordan’s 138-member parliament, channelling the growing fury over Israel’s actions in Gaza into electoral gains.

While the Front is now the largest opposition bloc, its influence remains curtailed by the limitations of Jordan’s legislative body, where pro-government factions still hold sway. But the gains made by the Islamists signal a deepening undercurrent of dissatisfaction driven by a sense of betrayal - both by Israel and by Arab governments - who, in the eyes of many, have failed to act decisively in defence of the Palestinians.

(Tomorrow, we look at Israel’s long engagement in Lebanon, from its intervention in the Lebanese Civil War and 1982 occupation of the southern half of the country to its ongoing mortal combat with Hezbollah)

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