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By:

Abhijit Mulye

21 August 2024 at 11:29:11 am

Tiger’s Expanding Shadow

Mumbai: In the unforgiving theater of the state politics, symbolism is often the precursor to a tectonic shift. By masterminding the unexpected move to field Shiv Sena (UBT) MLC Sachin Ahir for the coveted post of Deputy Chairman of the Maharashtra Legislative Council, Deputy Chief Minister Eknath Shinde has done much more than simply poach a high-profile rival. He has sent an unequivocal message across the political spectrum: ‘Operation Tiger’ is far from over. This aggressive expansion...

Tiger’s Expanding Shadow

Mumbai: In the unforgiving theater of the state politics, symbolism is often the precursor to a tectonic shift. By masterminding the unexpected move to field Shiv Sena (UBT) MLC Sachin Ahir for the coveted post of Deputy Chairman of the Maharashtra Legislative Council, Deputy Chief Minister Eknath Shinde has done much more than simply poach a high-profile rival. He has sent an unequivocal message across the political spectrum: ‘Operation Tiger’ is far from over. This aggressive expansion drive, initially aimed at consolidating Members of Parliament, is now systematically drilling down to legislators, municipal corporators, and the very grassroots foundation of the Uddhav Thackeray-led faction. However, while this tactical victory further decimates the opposition Maharashtra Vikas Aghadi (MVA), the collateral anxiety it has generated is being felt most acutely not within the UBT camp, but deep within the ranks of Shinde’s own senior ally, the Bharatiya Janata Party. To understand the gravity of Shinde’s relentless political expansion, one must trace the genesis of his rebellion back to the very same upper house. It was the fateful MLC elections of 2022 where the then-ruling MVA suffered a humiliating defeat, losing a crucial seat to the opposition BJP. The blame for this cross-voting debacle was squarely placed on Eknath Shinde by the Uddhav Thackeray coterie. That slight became the catalyst for the most spectacular political coup in the state’s recent history. A deeply hurt Shinde broke ranks, splintered the Shiv Sena, and ultimately brought the MVA government under Uddhav Thackeray crashing down. The BJP, still smarting from Thackeray’s 2019 decision to abandon their pre-poll alliance in favor of the Congress and the Nationalist Congress Party, not only fanned the flames of Shinde’s rebellion but actively bankrolled his ascent. In a move that stunned political pundits across the country, the BJP installed Shinde as the Chief Minister—an investment they believed would permanently relegate the Shiv Sena to a subservient, manageable role. Political Emancipation For the ordinary BJP worker on the ground, the splintering of the Shiv Sena felt like a long-awaited political emancipation. For decades, the BJP grassroots had harbored a deep-seated grievance of being forced to play second fiddle to a domineering regional partner. The vertical split engineered by Shinde relieved that historical pressure. This newfound dominance was brilliantly cemented in the 2024 state assembly elections, where the BJP delivered a spectacular standalone performance, sending a record-breaking 132 legislators to the lower house. For the first time in the truest sense, the common BJP party worker tasted the unadulterated fruits of absolute political hegemony. They were the undisputed big brothers of the ruling Mahayuti alliance, dictating terms and driving the state’s overarching political narrative. But Shinde’s surprise gambit with Sachin Ahir has violently disrupted this comfortable status quo. It confirms that he is not content merely surviving as a BJP-propped proxy. Under his astute leadership, his faction of the Shiv Sena has steadily mutated into a formidable political machine in its own right. By persistently absorbing the residual strength of the UBT faction, Shinde is systematically rebuilding the undivided Shiv Sena’s original architecture, just with a different captain at the helm. Operation Tiger is clearly no longer just about numerical survival; it is a meticulously planned project for absolute resurrection. Palpable Sense This relentless consolidation has triggered a palpable sense of dread among the BJP foot soldiers. The murmurs on the ground are increasingly anxious, painting a picture of an alliance marked by silent internal friction. If Shinde continues to successfully woo the remaining legislators, corporators, and shakha pramukhs from the Thackeray camp, his Sena could very well regain the organizational muscle and street-level dominance of the undivided era. The BJP leadership’s short-term strategy to use Shinde to annihilate the Thackerays might inadvertently breed a political behemoth they can no longer control. For the seasoned BJP cadre, the impending power dynamics within the Mahayuti combine look increasingly precarious. The immediate goal of keeping the MVA out of power is being achieved, but they are now questioning at what cost to the BJP’s own regional supremacy. As Eknath Shinde’s political stature grows by the day, the fundamental question haunting the local BJP karyakarta is no longer about today’s legislative arithmetic. It is an existential apprehension looking toward the future: If Shinde succeeds in wholly appropriating the legacy, cadre, and strength of the original Shiv Sena, the BJP may find itself right back where it started by the 2029 elections—forced, once again, to play the reluctant junior partner in its own political backyard.

Selective Outrage

India’s left-liberal media has long prided itself on being the torchbearer of secularism, dissent and moral rectitude. In the aftermath of ‘Operation Sindoor,’ the precision military strike launched by the Modi government against Pakistan-based terror camps, it has revealed its not a principled commitment to peace or truth, but a disturbing penchant for ideological prejudice, performative sanctimony and selective outrage.


The operation itself was a textbook display of calibrated force and geopolitical prudence. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, often caricatured as ‘authoritarian’ by the ‘liberal’ English-language commentariat, chose patience over provocation. He consulted opposition leaders, held detailed discussions with defence chiefs and took key international stakeholders, notably the United States and Russia, into confidence before authorising limited military action. The symbolism of ‘Operation Sindoor’ was also carefully crafted: a pointed reminder that the attack’s real victims were Hindu women widowed by Pakistan-sponsored militants in Kashmir. The government’s briefings were also strategic and symbolic as two ranking female officers, one of them Muslim, were made the public face of the mission, underlining a new Indian confidence that blends military muscle with democratic pluralism.


But this was unacceptable for India’s entrenched ‘left-liberal’ press, steeped in academic jargon, Western validation and a knee-jerk hostility to anything remotely ‘Hindutva.’ That a Muslim officer briefed the nation on ‘Operation Sindoor’ was branded ‘tokenism’ by such commentators. Others crudely alleged that the April 22 Pahalgam massacre was the logical culmination of reported atrocities against Muslims since Modi came to power in 2014.


The semantic nitpicking over ‘Operation Sindoor’ was maddening. An editor of a prominent magazine dubbed the operation’s name as ‘patriarchal’ and coded in Hindutva tropes. In a bizarre case of moral inversion, sindoor was likened to symbols of ‘honour killings’ and gender oppression, ignoring both its cultural resonance and the cruel reality that these women had lost their husbands in cold blood. For years, India’s ‘secular’ commentariat nurtured a preordained binary: the Congress may be flawed but was at least ‘secular’ while the BJP was an inveterate ‘fascist.’ Thus, the 2002 Gujarat riots are always focused upon but the Congress-backed pogrom of the Sikhs in 1984 is either downplayed or rationalised. Terrorism in Kashmir is tragic, but state retaliation is ‘jingoism.’ A strong Muslim voice in government is ‘tokenism’ but its absence is ‘exclusion.’ Even journalistic rigour is selectively applied. When Pakistan claimed to have downed Indian jets, some Indian outlets rushed to amplify the story before verification, inadvertently echoing enemy propaganda.


Dissent is vital in any democracy. But when its becomes indistinguishable from disdain, when editorial choices are dictated by ideological conformity, then the press becomes a caricature of itself. Ironically, many of these journalists enjoy robust free speech and loudly lament India’s supposed slide into ‘fascism’ from the safety of their X handles. Yet they turn a blind eye to Putin’s repression, Erdogan’s purges or Xi Jinping’s camps. In their eyes, Modi remains the greatest threat to democracy even as they broadcast their outrage freely, without fear of censorship or reprisal. ‘Operation Sindoor’ was a statement of cultural self-confidence. That confidence has rattled those who have spent their careers gatekeeping Indian discourse. Today, their monopoly is over. The people are watching and they no longer believe that the emperor has clothes.

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