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By:

Abhijit Joshi

31 August 2024 at 10:09:24 am

Sunetra Pawar’s Trial by Fire

The greatest challenge before Maharashtra’s first Deputy CM is not merely to govern, but to forge a political identity that is unmistakably her own. Politics often rewards the loudest voice. The modern political arena thrives on sharp sound bites, relentless television appearances and instant responses on social media. Yet, some leaders begin their journey not with thunder but with quiet resolve. Maharashtra’s Deputy Chief Minister Sunetra Pawar finds herself at precisely such a moment. In...

Sunetra Pawar’s Trial by Fire

The greatest challenge before Maharashtra’s first Deputy CM is not merely to govern, but to forge a political identity that is unmistakably her own. Politics often rewards the loudest voice. The modern political arena thrives on sharp sound bites, relentless television appearances and instant responses on social media. Yet, some leaders begin their journey not with thunder but with quiet resolve. Maharashtra’s Deputy Chief Minister Sunetra Pawar finds herself at precisely such a moment. In recent days, she has been drawn into an avoidable political controversy after the Maharashtra Congress dubbed her as “Gungi Gudiya” (“mute doll”) following a media interaction in which she chose not to answer journalists' questions. The remark quickly snowballed into a wider debate about the language used against women occupying high constitutional office. It also revived memories of the same epithet once directed at late Congress Prime Minister Indira Gandhi before she went on to become one of India’s most formidable political figures. Until recently, Sunetra Pawar remained largely outside the glare of frontline politics. She was better known in Baramati for her work in education, healthcare and social welfare than for fiery speeches or electoral campaigns. Her public image was that of a composed, private individual who preferred institution-building to political theatre. Political Limelight That changed in 2024 when she entered electoral politics, contesting the Lok Sabha election from Baramati against her sister-in-law, Supriya Sule. Though unsuccessful, she later entered Parliament through the Rajya Sabha, where she quietly focused on organisational responsibilities and social initiatives rather than cultivating a high-profile parliamentary persona. The defining moment came in January this year with the tragic death of her husband, Ajit Pawar, one of the state’s most experienced and influential political leaders. His passing created a political vacuum within the Nationalist Congress Party. At a moment of uncertainty, Sunetra Pawar stepped forward to shoulder responsibilities that few had imagined she would inherit so soon. Within days, she became Maharashtra’s first woman Deputy Chief Minister - a milestone in the state’s political history. But such transitions are rarely straightforward. Political parties often struggle when towering personalities disappear, and observers had predicted that the NCP might witness internal divisions. Maintaining organisational cohesion during a leadership transition is itself a considerable achievement, particularly in a state where political loyalties are often fluid and intensely personalised. However, much of the public conversation around Sunetra Pawar continues to be framed through comparisons with Ajit Pawar. The contrast is obvious. Ajit Pawar was known for his decisiveness, administrative grip and unmistakable public presence. Sunetra Pawar, by contrast, has generally remained soft-spoken, measured and reluctant to engage in unnecessary confrontation. Her supporters see restraint, dignity and maturity but critics see hesitation and insufficient public engagement. Neither assessment is entirely unfair. That is why the recent Beed incident acquired significance beyond a routine press interaction. When reporters sought her comments on law and order and she chose to leave without responding, the political vacuum was quickly filled by her opponents. The Congress’s “Gungi Gudiya” remark predictably provoked protests from the NCP and criticism from leaders across the ruling alliance, many of whom argued that such language diminished the dignity of a woman holding one of the state’s highest offices. Sunetra Pawar’s own response was notably restrained. She said she would offer a “fitting reply at the appropriate time.” The remark was consistent with the temperament she has displayed since entering public life. Leadership is ultimately judged not only by composure but also by visibility. Every major political figure eventually reaches a point where inherited legitimacy must give way to earned authority. Indira Gandhi had to step beyond Jawaharlal Nehru's towering legacy before she was recognised in her own right. Rajiv Gandhi, too, had to emerge from the shadow of Indira Gandhi while navigating extraordinary political circumstances. Their journeys were shaped by vastly different contexts, but they illustrate a universal truth: every successor must eventually become an original. Sunetra Pawar now confronts a similar, though far more modest, challenge. She must cease to be viewed primarily as “Ajit Pawar's wife” and come into her own. Distinct Identity That transformation cannot be achieved through symbolism alone. After all, lasting political stature is built through decisions, administrative outcomes and public confidence. To her credit, she has remained engaged with governance, regularly attending official programmes, reviewing development projects and interacting with citizens instead of chasing daily headlines. Yet the next stage of leadership demands something more. She will need to engage more confidently with the media, articulate her government's priorities in her own voice, and establish an administrative record that reflects independent judgement rather than inherited expectations. These are demanding tasks, but they are neither unusual nor unattainable. It is still too soon to measure Sunetra Pawar’s political legacy. She assumed responsibility at a moment when both her party and the state were adjusting to an unexpected transition, and has so far navigated that passage with composure. Yet political inheritance has a limited shelf life. While quietness, in itself, is neither a virtue nor a weakness, it acquires meaning only when it is accompanied by clarity and conviction. If Sunetra Pawar is to leave an enduring imprint on Maharashtra's politics, it will not be by echoing the style of Ajit Pawar or by answering every taunt from her opponents. It will be by developing a public voice that reflects her own instincts, her own priorities and, ultimately, her own leadership. (The writer is a political observer. Views personal.)

When the Rocket Fails, Lift-Off Still Follows

ISRO’s recent PSLV stumble underscores why resilience, not perfection, propels innovation.

India’s 101st PSLV mission which was launched on May 18 with great expectations, failed to place its satellite in orbit. For the public, it served as a reminder that even our most reliable systems can encounter setbacks. For scientists, however, such events are not failures in the traditional sense but an integral part of progress at the frontier of knowledge.


Science is not a sequence of guaranteed victories. It is a process rooted in experimentation, correction and thoughtful iteration. A 2016 Nature survey of over 1,500 researchers found that more than 70 percent had failed to reproduce another scientist’s results, and over half had failed to reproduce their own. These were indicators of the complexity of real-world science, where undocumented steps or subtle variations often determine outcomes.


Rocket scientists are acutely aware of this. They do not assume perfection. Each mission involves extensive simulation, rigorous testing, and preparation for the unexpected. Despite this, minor anomalies can result in major consequences. This reflects not incompetence but the inherent complexity of large systems.


What matters is how one responds - with analysis, humility and resolve. The phrase “rocket science” endures in public discourse not only because the field is demanding, but because it exemplifies clear thinking and precision under pressure.


This mindset is not unique to aerospace. Consider Dr. Katalin Karikó, whose research on messenger RNA was overlooked for decades. She was denied promotions and funding, yet continued her work. Her findings became the foundation for the mRNA COVID-19 vaccines used worldwide. Similarly, Jennifer Doudna, co-developer of CRISPR gene-editing, encountered skepticism and competition. Through perseverance and scientific refinement, she helped create one of the most transformative biotechnological tools and received the Nobel Prize in Chemistry.


In India, many technology-driven enterprises in diagnostics, clean energy, and agricultural biotechnology face similar uncertainties. These ventures rely not only on innovation but also on the ability to learn from mistakes and adapt. Progress often emerges not from the absence of error, but through a thoughtful response to it.


This culture of scientific persistence and risk-taking must be cultivated. Unfortunately, prevailing attitudes often do the opposite. In schools, failure is penalised. In academic research, it is quietly feared. In funding ecosystems, it is frequently misunderstood. Such a climate discourages experimentation, especially among younger scientists.


A mature scientific ecosystem treats failure as data. A failed experiment can reveal flaws in method or gaps in understanding. A rejected paper may sharpen one’s reasoning. A declined grant often prompts a more focused research question. These outcomes are but part of the process.


More difficult than failure itself is the tendency to internalise it. Self-doubt, hesitation, and fear of embarrassment often prevent people from trying again. Outstanding scientists are not immune to setbacks; they are simply better prepared to overcome them.


Globally, there is a shift toward greater openness about scientific failure. Journals now publish negative results. Conferences include sessions where researchers share what did not work. These practices improve transparency and reduce duplication of effort. India too is beginning to adopt this approach, particularly in its innovation ecosystem. However, formal scientific training still encourages caution more than curiosity.


Students and young researchers must understand that failure is not a sign of incompetence, but evidence of genuine effort. Thinking like a rocket scientist means not just solving problems, but anticipating and analysing them. Progress is measured not by unbroken success, but by the capacity to adapt.


This mindset should not wait until postgraduate study. It must be introduced early. At present, schools reward certainty and discourage open-ended exploration. Students are taught to memorise facts, not question them. Emphasis on correct answers often undermines creativity. Remember that in science, breakthroughs often emerge from uncertainty and surprise.


To prepare for a knowledge-based future, we must reimagine curricula. Educational frameworks should encourage experimentation, accept failure and promote interdisciplinary approaches. Students should not only solve problems, but define and refine them even when outcomes are unclear. Science fairs should value originality over polish. Exams should balance conceptual understanding with applied reasoning and classrooms must become laboratories of exploration.


The PSLV mission was met with composure and maturity by both ISRO and the public. It offers an opportunity to reshape how we view scientific progress - not as a linear path of triumphs, but as a process shaped by setbacks, analysis and informed risk. Great achievements, from Moon landings to gene editing, were built on such foundations. The true lesson is not to fear failure, but to respond to it with persistence and purpose.


Scientists are not miracle workers; they are professionals who test, refine and persevere. Much of their work remains unnoticed or takes years to bear fruit. Yet each contribution builds the scaffolding for future discoveries. This quiet determination is what truly defines science. The PSLV will fly again, and fly better, because of what this failure taught us. Likewise, India’s scientific future rests not only on success, but on how we rise after setbacks even more prepared, more focused and more committed. In science, as in life, what stands in the way often becomes the way forward.


(The author is the former Director, Agharkar Research Institute, Pune and Visiting Professor, IIT-Bombay. Views personal.)

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