Scripted Suspicion

Sharad Pawar’s political career has been a half-century masterclass in Machiavellian manoeuvre, opportunistic alliance-making, and shameless reinvention. At 84, the wily Maratha strongman shows no sign of mellowing. He again reminded Maharashtra why he is trusted by no one. His latest ‘confession’ is that two mysterious individuals approached him before the 2024 assembly polls offering to “guarantee” 160 seats if the opposition ceded difficult constituencies.

The question that arises is why is Pawar making these revelations now? The election is over, the Maha Vikas Aghadi (MVA) has been routed, and the BJP-led Mahayuti sits comfortably in power. If Pawar believed this alleged approach represented a threat to the integrity of the election, he should have spoken before the polls and with names and proof. Instead, he waited months, offering neither evidence nor identities and in the process, undermining faith in the process while protecting himself from the burden of verification.

The coyness is as telling as the timing. Pawar claims he does “not have their name or address with me right now” - a formulation so implausible it borders on the comic. This is a man who has navigated every backroom in Indian politics for five decades, who can recall details of party rebellions from the 1980s, yet claims not to know who these supposed electoral fixers are. Either the offer was never credible, or Pawar has chosen to ‘shield’ the actors involved and neither possibility flatters him.

Pawar’s MVA ally, Shiv Sena (UBT) leader Sanjay Raut has amplified it. The Sena (UBT) motormouth alleges the same shadowy pair approached Uddhav Thackeray twice - once during the Lok Sabha elections and again ahead of the assembly polls. They supposedly promised victory through tampering with EVMs, if the Sena agreed to hand over ‘difficult’ seats. Raut insists Thackeray refused. But his retelling suffers the same fatal flaw as Pawar’s: it contains just enough detail to be scandalous, but not enough to be tested.

This is political theatre of the worst sort. Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis has already dismissed the saga as a “Salim-Javed script,” and he is not wrong.

The timing is especially suspect when viewed through the lens of Pawar’s career. The man has switched sides, split parties and dissolved alliances with cold precision whenever it suited his interests. His habit of dropping innuendo without proof is not new. It is a tactic honed over decades to unsettle opponents and keep allies guessing. That he would deploy it now suggests calculation.

Raut’s compulsive need to match or top Pawar’s ‘inside stories’ betrays a hunger for controversy. In a coalition that desperately needs discipline, Raut is like an unguided missile

In politics, timing is everything. Pawar and Raut have chosen the moment least useful to the cause they claim to serve, but most useful to their own relevance and that of their doddering parties. It is a habit Maharashtra has seen before and one reason the opposition keeps losing, even before the votes are counted.