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By:

Rajendra Pandharpure

15 April 2025 at 2:25:54 pm

BJP eyes chances in Western Maharashtra after the Pawars

The death of Ajit Pawar has unsettled western Maharashtra, leaving the BJP cautiously biding its time Pune: Western Maharashtra has long been Indian politics in miniature: dense with sugar cooperatives, caste arithmetic, money and muscle power. For decades it was shaped by one extended family – the Pawars - whose writ ran from district banks to dairy unions and from assembly halls to village panchayats. The sudden death of Ajit Pawar, the Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) strongman and...

BJP eyes chances in Western Maharashtra after the Pawars

The death of Ajit Pawar has unsettled western Maharashtra, leaving the BJP cautiously biding its time Pune: Western Maharashtra has long been Indian politics in miniature: dense with sugar cooperatives, caste arithmetic, money and muscle power. For decades it was shaped by one extended family – the Pawars - whose writ ran from district banks to dairy unions and from assembly halls to village panchayats. The sudden death of Ajit Pawar, the Nationalist Congress Party (NCP) strongman and Maharashtra’s deputy chief minister, has jolted this ecosystem. The aftershocks are being felt most keenly not by his rivals, but by his ally, the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) that has long coveted the region. Maharashtra’s politics has always been regionally segmented. The BJP is entrenched in north Maharashtra; it has broken through spectacularly in Mumbai, including wresting control of the municipal corporation; Vidarbha remains Congress-leaning while Marathwada is competitive and volatile. Family Bastion Western Maharashtra, by contrast, has remained been the Pawars’ citadel. Control over cooperatives, especially sugar, has translated into rural loyalty, financial muscle and electoral dominance. The NCP, founded by Sharad Pawar, thrived on this architecture. The BJP, despite its national rise, has struggled to crack it. Rather than dislodge the system, the BJP sought to co-opt it. Disaffected satraps were inducted like Udayanraje Bhosale in Satara; the Mahadiks in Kolhapur; the Mohite-Patils in Solapur. Local strongmen such as Rahul Kul in Pune district were elevated and veterans like Harshvardhan Patil were brought in, if only briefly. The idea was to gradually bleed the undivided NCP led by patriarch Sharad Pawar. That effort has intensified as the BJP eyes an audacious goal: returning to power in Maharashtra on its own in the 2029 Assembly election. For that to happen, western Maharashtra is indispensable. It is no accident that the Modi government had created a new Union ministry of cooperation, handing it to Amit Shah. Cooperatives are the region’s political bloodstream. After the 2024 general election, Muralidhar Mohol, elected from Pune, was made minister of state in the same department. He was also informally tasked with western Maharashtra in a clear signal of the BJP’s strategic focus. Mohol’s brief was daunting: contain both Pawars. Sharad Pawar’s stature as a national deal-maker and Ajit Pawar’s grip on local machinery made them a formidable duo even when divided. Yet, the recent municipal contests in Pune and Pimpri-Chinchwad hinted at change. When both Pawars campaigned together, the BJP still managed to defeat them, suggesting that the old formula no longer guaranteed victory. Uncertain Times Then came the plane crash on January 28 leading to Ajit Pawar’s tragic death. His wife, Sunetra Pawar, was sworn in as deputy chief minister, an act of continuity intended to steady the ranks. While public sympathy is palpable, it has nothing to do with organisation. Sunetra Pawar will need time to command the networks her husband once ran by instinct. Her early gestures like visiting Karad to pay homage to Yashwantrao Chavan and invoking the legacy of Phule, Shahu and Ambedkar signal an attempt to anchor the party in its progressive tradition. Whether that rhetoric can substitute for Ajit Pawar’s authority is uncertain. Uncertainty abounds elsewhere too. Rumours swirl of a rapprochement or even a merger between the rival NCP factions. One scenario has Supriya Sule entering the Union cabinet. Another asks a more existential question: could Sharad Pawar, architect of Maharashtra’s secular, centrist politics, ever align formally with the BJP’s Hindutva project? His reported unease with a recent India–America trade agreement has fuelled speculation among supporters already anxious about ideological drift. Against this haze, the BJP’s restraint is striking. Rather than rushing to exploit the moment, it has preferred to wait and watch. The party knows that western Maharashtra is not won in a season. Cooperative elections, local bodies and caste coalitions move slowly. For now, the BJP is content to let the Pawars recalibrate, to allow factions to test their strength, and to intervene only when the contours are clearer. In a region where politics has long been about inheritance, Ajit Pawar’s absence has exposed how fragile even the most entrenched systems can be. The BJP senses opportunity, but is also aware of the attendant risks. Its wait-and-watch posture reflects a calculation born of experience. And in western Maharashtra, patience can be a weapon.

Lingua Pragmatica

Updated: Mar 20, 2025

As Southern leaders like M.K. Stalin rage against Hindi, Andhra Pradesh’s Chief Minister Chandrababu Naidu offers a model of pragmatism over parochialism.

Chandrababu Naidu
Andhra Pradesh

Amid the cacophony of opposition in southern states to Hindi, Andhra Pradesh CM N. Chandrababu Naidu has taken a markedly pragmatic stance by remarking recently in the state Assembly that there was no harm in learning other languages. Hindi, Naidu noted, was useful for communication across India, particularly in political and commercial hubs like Delhi. His remarks, though avoiding explicit mention of the NEP, were widely seen as an endorsement of multilingualism and a rebuke to the linguistic chauvinism that has gripped parts of the South.


Few issues in India stir political passions quite like language. It is not merely a means of communication but a marker of identity, a relic of colonial resistance, and a source of political mobilization. In the southern states, where anti-Hindi sentiment has long been entrenched, the National Education Policy (NEP) 2020 and its three-language formula have reignited old tensions. No state embodies this defiance more than Tamil Nadu, where the ruling Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (DMK) led by M.K. Stalin has framed the policy as an assault on its linguistic autonomy.


Naidu’s words, welcomed by his ally and Deputy Chief Minister Pawan Kalyan, mark a sharp contrast with the DMK’s position. Tamil Nadu’s hostility towards Hindi dates back to the 1930s, when C. Rajagopalachari’s attempt to introduce it in schools met with fierce resistance. The anti-Hindi agitations of the 1960s cemented the DMK’s ideological stance, with its first Chief Minister, C.N. Annadurai, famously warning that Hindi imposition could push Tamil Nadu towards secession.


The question, however, is whether this rigid opposition serves Tamil Nadu’s interests. While Stalin, with an eye to the upcoming Tamil Nadu Assembly polls, has been relentlessly portraying Hindi as a threat to his state’s regional identity, Naidu, a partner of the BJP-led Centre, is framing it as a tool for economic mobility. His argument is not that Hindi should replace Telugu or English but that it offers a competitive advantage.


The economic case for multilingualism is compelling. Indians who speak multiple languages tend to have better job prospects, higher earnings and greater geographic mobility. Andhra Pradesh’s Telugu-speaking diaspora is a case in point. Telugus make up a significant proportion of Indian-origin professionals in the United States, the Gulf, and Southeast Asia as Naidu pointed out, hinting that this success story was built not on linguistic rigidity but on adaptability.


In a country where inter-state migration is rising and where Hindi remains the most widely spoken language, refusing to learn it amounts to self-imposed isolation. Tamil Nadu’s approach, by contrast, risks limiting its youth. The DMK government has refused to implement the three-language policy, keeping schools strictly bilingual with Tamil and English. Its justification that Hindi is not necessary for global success could be true in a narrow sense but ignores the domestic context. If Tamil filmmakers can dub their movies into Hindi to expand their audience, why should Tamil students be denied access to the language that could open more doors for them within India?


The DMK has accused successive central governments, particularly under the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), of pushing Hindi at the expense of regional languages. Yet, rejecting Hindi outright is an overcorrection. The reality is that Hindi is an important language in India’s economic and political landscape. Naidu’s position, one of accommodation rather than confrontation, offers a middle ground that other Southern leaders would do well to consider.


Some states already recognize this. Karnataka, despite its own history of linguistic pride, has allowed Hindi to be taught as an optional language. Kerala, whose migrants work in Hindi-speaking regions and the Gulf, has been less hostile to Hindi education. Naidu’s model, balancing regional identity with practical necessity, offers a way forward. Languages should be embraced, not politicized. Southern leaders would do well to listen to him.

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