top of page

By:

Rajendra Pandharpure

15 April 2025 at 2:25:54 pm

Pune’s changing political guard

After an eight-year hiatus, the municipal elections promise to usher in a new cohort of politicians and reset the city’s political rhythms Pune:  The long-delayed civic polls herald a generational shift in Pune, arguably Maharashtra’s most politically vibrant city. When voters return to the booths in December, they will be resetting the circuitry of local power. The last municipal elections were held in 2017. Since then, the city’s politics have drifted into a liminal space. The Pune...

Pune’s changing political guard

After an eight-year hiatus, the municipal elections promise to usher in a new cohort of politicians and reset the city’s political rhythms Pune:  The long-delayed civic polls herald a generational shift in Pune, arguably Maharashtra’s most politically vibrant city. When voters return to the booths in December, they will be resetting the circuitry of local power. The last municipal elections were held in 2017. Since then, the city’s politics have drifted into a liminal space. The Pune Municipal Corporation’s (PMC) term expired in May 2022, but the state dithered, leaving India’s seventh-largest city without elected urban governance for almost three years. With the prospect of polls repeatedly deferred, many former corporators had since quietly receded from the daily grind of politics, returning to business interests or simply losing relevance. When the long-pending reservation lottery for civic wards was finally conducted recently, it delivered another shock: dozens of established male aspirants discovered that their seats had vanished from under them. New guard All this has created an unusual political vacuum that younger leaders are eager to fill. Parties across the spectrum, from the BJP to the Congress to the NCP factions, are preparing to field fresher faces. Regardless of who wins, Pune seems destined to witness the rise of a new political class. The churn is already visible. In the 2024 Lok Sabha election, both the BJP’s Murlidhar Mohol and the Congress’s then-candidate Ravindra Dhangekar were relative newcomers to national politics. The city’s Assembly seats have also produced new faces in recent years, including Hemant Rasne and Sunil Kamble. Ajit Pawar’s Nationalist Congress Party elevated Subhash Jagtap and Sunil Tingre to leadership roles, giving them a platform to shape the party’s urban strategy. Even the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP), a peripheral entity in Pune’s political landscape, is preparing to contest the civic polls with a wholly new leadership slate. The party most uneasy about this transition may be the Congress. Despite routinely polling between 550,000 and 600,000 votes in the city, it has struggled to convert electoral presence into organisational revival. As the Bihar election results were being announced recently, one Pune resident summed up a sentiment widely shared among Congress sympathisers: the party has votes, but not enough dynamic young leaders to carry them. The question, as he put it, is not whether the youth can help the Congress, but whether the Congress will let them. Rewind to the early 2000s, and Pune’s political landscape looked very different. The Congress then had a formidable bench which included Suresh Kalmadi, Chandrakant Shivarkar, Mohan Joshi, Ramesh Bagwe and Abhay Chhajed. The BJP had Pradeep Rawat, Anil Shirole, Girish Bapat, Vijay Kale, Vishwas Gangurde and Dilip Kamble. Sharad Pawar’s NCP, then ascendant, rested on leaders like Ajit Pawar, Ankush Kakade, Vandana Chavan and Ravi Malvadkar. But the 2014 BJP wave flattened the hierarchy. The Congress crumbled; Kalmadi and Rawat faded from view; Gangurde exited the stage. The BJP replaced its old guard with Medha Kulkarni, and then Mukta Tilak, Chandrakant Patil, Bhimrao Tapkir, Madhuri Misal and Jagdish Mulik. Now, as Pune approaches the end of 2025, even Mohol - the BJP’s rising star - risks appearing ‘senior’ in a political landscape tilting toward younger contenders. Demographics are accelerating the shift. Given that Pune’s last civic polls took place eight years ago, an entire cohort of voters since then has reached adulthood. They cast their first ballots in the recent Lok Sabha and Assembly elections; now they will vote in municipal elections for the first time. Their concerns include urban mobility, climate resilience, digital governance, employment differ sharply from the older generation’s priorities. Their political loyalties, still fluid, are likely to crystallise around leaders who can speak to these new anxieties. The coming election promises a radical change in Pune’s political ecosystem. Long dominated by legacy figures, that ecosystem is set for nothing less than a generational reset. The departure of veteran leaders, the decennial rebalancing of parties, and the impatience of a newly enfranchised urban youth all point towards a younger, more competitive, and possibly more unpredictable political order. Whether this transition will deliver better governance remains to be seen. But one thing is clear: the next generation seems determined not to wait another eight years to make itself heard.

Jharkhand at 25: Forged in Fire, Renewed by Resolve

ree

If you drive through Jharkhand today, past its bustling mineral towns and tribal heartlands, you will see a land reborn. Yet, behind the rhythm of progress lies a history of defiance and dreams, fierce oppositions and hard-earned victories. As Jharkhand celebrates its 25th anniversary, this is not just a milestone. It is proof that India's youngest state is no longer a byword for backwardness but a case study in resilience. It is also a reminder of how regional identities, long overshadowed by larger provinces, eventually pushed their way into the administrative map, much like the Santhal Pargana uprising of the 19th century – an episode that showed how cultural neglect can ferment into political resolve.


Carved out of Bihar on 15 November 2000 after decades of agitation, the creation of Jharkhand was anything but simple. Jharkhand's movement was not a sudden phenomenon. It was the culmination of decades of yearning among the region's hills, mines, and indigenous communities. In 1986, the All-Jharkhand Students Union (AISU) was born in Jhargram, West Bengal, embodying collective leadership and the spirit of public resistance. The assassination of Nirmal Mahato in 1987 intensified the agitation. The slogan that rent the air went thus: “We will get Jharkhand, we will get it by fighting.” This phase resembled the upheaval seen during the Telangana agitations of the late 1960s, when student-led protests reshaped political calculations and transformed localised discontent into a national issue.

 

Legacy of revolts

For many in the region, this moment revived the forgotten legacy of earlier tribal revolts like the Kol rebellion of 1831–32, the Hul movement of 1855–56 led by Sidhu and Kanhu Murmu. Each of these was an assertion of land, identity and autonomy in the face of state indifference. The Shaheed Sthal of Kharsawan stands as a witness to the passionate promises made by youth; some even burned their academic certificates, vowing not to marry, work, or vote until their demand for statehood was met. The struggle was more than political; it was a cry for existence. The Jharkhand Mukti Morcha (JMM) played a crucial role in Jharkhand’s statehood movement. Founded by Shibu Soren, Binod Bihari Mahto, and A.K. Roy, the party was officially established on the birthday of Birsa Munda, the 19th-century tribal freedom fighter from Jharkhand. The invocation of Birsa Munda mirrored how regional movements elsewhere, such as in Tamil Nadu with Periyar or in Assam with cultural icons like Srimanta Sankardev, rooted political demands in long-standing cultural and historical memory.


Ram Dayal Munda revitalized the movement by uniting various tribal factions. In June 1987, under his leadership, the Jharkhand Coordination Committee (JCC) was formed, bringing together 48 organizations, including multiple JMM factions. For a time, leaders such as Shibu Soren, Suraj Mandal, Simon Marandi, and AJSU representatives shared a common platform through the JCC. However, the JMM later parted ways, feeling that the collective leadership was ineffective. During 1988 and 1989, the JMM, AJSU, and Jharkhand People’s Party (JPP) orchestrated successful bandhs and economic blockades to press their demand for Jharkhand’s statehood.


Governments took turns attempting to crush the movement. Under Lalu Prasad and Rabri Devi's rule, protestors were branded as extremists. Streets bore witness to bloodshed, but the demand was fundamentally constitutional in the 1990s, when leaders like Lalu Prasad declared, “Jharkhand will be created over my dead body,” the courts ultimately affirmed the legitimacy and popular basis of Jharkhand's demand. Judicial validation echoed earlier precedents such as the Supreme Court’s acknowledgment of popular will during the Bombay–Gujarat linguistic division in 1960, reinforcing that state formation was as much a democratic process as a political one.


Statehood was not merely a political act, it was the realization of public aspiration. While the BJP credits Atal Bihari Vajpayee's initiative for this achievement, the crucial role played by Lal Krishna Advani cannot be overlooked. He gave meaning to the name ‘Jharkhand,’ replacing the earlier term ‘Vananchal AISU’s support for the BJP in 1999 led to a collective acceptance of the state’s identity and existence. Finally, on November 15, 2000, Jharkhand emerged on India’s political landscape. The moment was part of a broader federal rebalancing in the late 1990s and early 2000s, when India, unlike many centralised postcolonial states, chose to accommodate regional aspirations through constitutional restructuring rather than coercion.


Stumbling blocks

For years, progress stumbled. Jharkhand became synonymous with political instability-eight chief ministers, twelve governments, and repeated reversals. The land, rich with coal and iron ore, remained paradoxically poor. Naxal violence gnawed at its social fabric and the headlines reported unrest, poverty and missed potential with unfailing regularity. Here, one can even draw global parallels with Jharkhand to resource-rich but governance-poor regions across the world - from Congo’s Katanga to Bolivia’s tin belt - where mineral abundance proved as much a curse as a blessing.


A shift began with the arrival of stable governance post 2014. For the first time, politics in Ranchi looked forward, not backward. With leaders able to plan for more than a few chaotic months, the state acquired the space to address structural issues land rights, rural education, indigenous welfare National schemes began to reach Jharkhand in full force new highways, electrification, healthcare, and the celebrated Ayushman Bharat insurance transformed rural lives.


Prime Minister Modi's government made Jharkhand a keystone in its "tribal pride" agenda, commemorating the legendary Birsa Munda and earmarking over 12.5 lakh crore for development projects. The railway budget grew sixteen-fold, and modern trains like Vande Bharat began running. These were not simply budgetary numbers. The construction of highways, modern railway corridors and coal power plants created jobs and stitched Jharkhand closer to the national fabric. Youth, once resigned to migration, now found self-employment loans under the Mudra scheme and opportunities in new industrial zones.


The numbers reflect this silent revolution. Jharkhand’s Gross State Domestic Product (GSDP) is projected to grow by over 9 percent this year, per capita incomes have tripled since 2002 And yet, beyond statistics lies an even greater transformation, the restoring of dignity and hope. That is what stands out as you speak to young entrepreneurs in Dhanbad, Adivasi leaders in Simdega, or teachers in Gumia. In their view, Jharkhand's future is optimistic, not fatalistic.


Has the journey been easy? Not at all Jharkhand still battles corruption, social inequality, and the shadow of old divides. Mining riches have yet to translate into universal prosperity. Tribal voices demand more than symbolic recognition; they want genuine empowerment. Opposition persists from cynical corners who see every new road or scheme as proof of creeping centralization or loss of local culture.


These tensions mirror debates in other resource-rich states like Odisha or Madhya Pradesh where the balance between extraction, environment, and indigenous rights remains continually contested.


Yet, these debates are the hallmark of a maturing democracy. Jharkhand's story is less about perfect success, more about pragmatic progress. Every tally of new school enrolments and lowered poverty rates should also remind us that development is messy, a blend of victories and setbacks, vision and compromise.

Comments

bottom of page