Maharashtra After Dada

Ajit Pawar’s departure leaves Maharashtra without its most efficient troubleshooter and exposes how much of its politics still runs on individuals rather than institutions.

The sudden, and cruel, exit of Ajit Pawar from active politics following his demise in a tragic plane crash has left Maharashtra facing an unfamiliar silence. For more than three decades, his presence - alternately reassuring and unsettling - was a constant in the state’s political weather. Governments rose and fell, alliances were stitched together and torn apart, but Pawar remained an ever-visible central who was always decisive, and difficult to ignore. With him gone, Maharashtra is entering an uneasy and untested phase.

Walking the Talk

Ajit Pawar was not merely another regional heavyweight. He belonged to a dwindling category of Indian politicians who combined electoral instinct with administrative drive. Known for his punctuality, impatience with dithering and appetite for detail, he was widely seen as someone who “walked the talk.” Files moved faster when they landed on his desk and decisions, once taken, were enforced with little tolerance for excuse-making. In a system that often rewards delay and ambiguity, this made him both effective and feared.

His influence extended far beyond his Baramati stronghold. From irrigation and finance to rural development, Pawar handled portfolios that shaped Maharashtra’s political economy. Supporters credited him with understanding the granular realities of farmers, cooperatives and local institutions. Critics accused him of concentrating power and blurring the line between governance and patronage.

Both sides agreed on one thing: Ajit Pawar mattered. His absence, therefore, is not merely emotional for his followers; it is structurally disruptive for the state’s politics.

That disruption is most visible within the Nationalist Congress Party (NCP), the organisation with which Pawar’s political life was intertwined. As Sharad Pawar’s nephew, he began his career under the shadow of one of India’s most seasoned political operators. Expectations of succession were high, frustrations inevitable. Over time, Ajit Pawar forged an identity that was more transactional and execution-driven than his uncle’s consensus-oriented style. He was less interested in grand ideological positioning than in who held power and how it could be used.

Eternal Rebel

This difference culminated in his most consequential gamble: breaking away from Sharad Pawar and aligning with the Bharatiya Janata Party and Eknath Shinde’s Shiv Sena faction. The split fractured the NCP, confused voters and rewired Maharashtra’s power equations. To admirers, it demonstrated Pawar’s realism and ambition in adapting to a shifting political landscape. To detractors, it looked like opportunism that hollowed out the party’s moral centre. Either way, it confirmed that Maharashtra politics still turns on individuals willing to take risks that institutions cannot.

With Ajit Pawar no longer active, the ruling alliance faces an immediate problem of balance. He often functioned as a bridge between coalition partners, between rival factions, and between the government and powerful local interests. His negotiating skills helped smooth frictions that inevitably arise in multi-party arrangements. Without him, the alliance led by Devendra Fadnavis may find that arithmetic alone does not guarantee stability.

Uncertain Future

The future of Pawar’s NCP faction is even less certain. Many of its legislators and local leaders followed him out of personal loyalty rather than ideological conviction. In his absence, that glue weakens. Some may drift towards the BJP, others may seek accommodation with Sharad Pawar’s faction, and a few may simply wait, calculating which side offers the best prospects.

Ironically, Pawar’s exit has revived speculation about a possible NCP reunion. Sharad Pawar, throughout the split, avoided closing the door entirely on reconciliation. Without Ajit Pawar’s assertive leadership anchoring the breakaway faction, unity may appear administratively easier. Politically, however, it remains fraught. The split poisoned local relationships, pitted workers against each other and forced voters to choose sides. Healing those wounds would require not just symbolism but a credible roadmap for shared leadership, something the NCP has historically struggled to articulate.

Beyond party manoeuvres lies a broader question about representation, especially in western Maharashtra. Ajit Pawar commanded loyalty among farmers, cooperative leaders and rural youth who valued his accessibility and decisiveness.

His understanding of irrigation politics and agricultural economics gave him an edge in the sugar belt. With him gone, that terrain is suddenly contested. The BJP and Shiv Sena will attempt to retain his support base through policy continuity and organisational muscle, while the Congress and Sharad Pawar’s NCP faction will try to reclaim lost ground by reviving older loyalties.

For voters, though, the drama of elite repositioning matters less than outcomes. Maharashtra faces familiar pressures: agrarian distress, urban infrastructure strain, rising living costs and uneven job creation. Many citizens will judge the post-Pawar era not by who occupies which office, but by whether governance improves or stalls. In that sense, his departure is a test for the political system itself. Can institutions compensate for the loss of an individual known for pushing them to act?

Ajit Pawar’s career exposed a central tension in Indian politics. Strong personalities often compensate for weak systems, delivering results precisely because institutions are sluggish. Yet such dependence carries a cost: when the individual exits, uncertainty rushes in. Maharashtra now confronts that reality. The politics ahead may be less dramatic, but it will be more intricate, relying on negotiation rather than command.

Pawar’s story, marked by ambition, rebellion and relentless execution, has reached its end. The larger story of whether Maharashtra can move from personality-driven governance to something more durable remains unfinished. For now, the state watches, recalibrates and waits to see whether anyone else can make the machinery move with the same urgency.

(The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)