Kingmaker BJP

Ladies and gentlemen, sit back and watch a spectacle worthy of any theatre—Rahul Gandhi at work. The man who vows to save Congress seems determined to dismantle it instead. Bihar? Collapsed. Tejashwi Yadav’s RJD? Crushed under the weight of Rahul’s strategy—or should I say, lack thereof. And somewhere, smiling quietly in the corner, is Narendra Modi, whose dream of a Congress-free India is being delivered, by Rahul himself, without any effort on Modi’s part.

Bihar was the first act. Rahul, with all the enthusiasm of a man convinced of his own brilliance, sent Kanhaiya Kumar, Pappu Yadav, and a few others into the battlefield. Three months later, Congress went from nineteen MLAs to six. Yes, six. And Tejashwi Yadav? Politically eviscerated. One can almost admire the consistency with which Rahul Gandhi demolishes prospects—truly a masterclass in political self-sabotage.

Now, the drama moves to Karnataka. DK Shivakumar, the patient and ambitious man, has been waiting for his promised turn as Chief Minister: two-and-a-half years for Siddaramaiah, then his own term. But Rahul Gandhi, fresh from Bihar, barely glanced in his direction. So Shivakumar began to stir, quietly, like a coiled spring. MLAs whispered, leaks appeared in the media, and suddenly, the BJP smelled opportunity. Politics, after all, is nothing if not the art of exploiting other people’s quarrels.

Enter “Operation Kamal.” A term with history and a delicious hint of irony. Once, the BJP toppled Dharam Singh-led Congress-JD(S) coalition in Karnataka by luring MLAs away with promises and perks. Today, Shivakumar could do something similar: break away enough MLAs to form a minority government. The BJP’s role? Sit back, smile, and support from outside, keeping the leash firmly in their hands. Minority governments are delicate creatures—they live at the mercy of their patrons. One day they support, the next day they withdraw—and down comes the house of cards.

If Shivakumar becomes Chief Minister, it will be his own faction running a minority government, entirely dependent on BJP’s goodwill. Every ministerial berth, every policy decision, will carry the implicit warning: misstep, and you fall. Surveys suggest what most seasoned observers already know: Karnataka wants BJP. If elections come early, the BJP will win outright, leaving Shivakumar’s drama as little more than a footnote in political history.

Meanwhile, Rahul Gandhi trudges on, blissfully unaware of the havoc he leaves behind. Bihar lies in ruins. Karnataka teeters on the edge. His style—vigorous, chaotic, spectacularly self-defeating—is doing Modi’s work for him. And somewhere, perhaps in a quiet office, Modi must be smiling, counting his unearned blessings.

Such is Indian politics: full of ambition, betrayal, chaos, and irony. A party once seen as a pillar of democracy now threatens to implode from within, guided by the very person meant to save it. And the nation, with a mixture of disbelief and amusement, watches this spectacle unfold.