By K Raveendran
The greatest mistake Narendra Modi and his Bharatiya Janata Party can make is to mistake the silence of the streets for the consent of the people. The government may have succeeded in shrinking the space for organised resistance, intimidating critics and making dissent increasingly costly. But political resentment does not disappear simply because it is denied public expression. It accumulates beneath the surface, often unnoticed by those who wield power, until an election gives it an opportunity to speak. Indira Gandhi discovered this truth in 1977. Narendra Modi could discover it in 2029.
Indira Gandhi imposed a formal Emergency in June 1975, suspending civil liberties, censoring the press and imprisoning political opponents. Her decision to call elections in 1977 ended nearly three decades of uninterrupted Congress dominance at the Centre. Modi has not declared an Emergency but the concentration of executive authority, manipulation of the Election Commission, the pressure on independent institutions, the use of investigative agencies against political opponents and the narrowing of democratic debate have created conditions that critics describe as an undeclared Emergency.
Modi’s government has already received a warning that its political managers appear unwilling to acknowledge fully. The 2024 Lok Sabha election deprived the BJP of its independent parliamentary majority, reducing its tally from 303 seats in 2019 to 240. The National Democratic Alliance retained power, but the result punctured the carefully cultivated impression of Modi’s electoral invincibility. A leader who had presented himself as the indispensable centre of Indian politics suddenly found himself dependent on coalition partners. The electorate had demonstrated that the BJP could be challenged, that Modi could be resisted and that the political arithmetic of India was not permanently settled.
That result should have encouraged introspection. Instead, the government’s political approach has continued to place extraordinary emphasis on controlling the narrative, discrediting opposition leaders and maintaining an atmosphere in which disagreement is readily portrayed as disloyalty. Such methods may weaken organised opposition in the immediate term, but they also risk converting ordinary dissatisfaction into a deeper rejection of the political establishment.
The BJP’s difficulties cannot be explained solely through the erosion of democratic freedoms. Economic anxieties are potentially more damaging because they cut across ideological and communal divisions. Unemployment and underemployment among educated young people, insecurity in informal employment, stagnant purchasing power for vulnerable households and the continuing pressure of essential expenditure have created a widening distance between official claims of national progress and the lived experiences of many citizens. Impressive infrastructure projects, expanding digital services and headline economic growth cannot automatically compensate for the absence of secure livelihoods.
The contradiction is particularly striking among young Indians. A generation encouraged to believe that economic transformation would produce unprecedented opportunities is discovering that educational qualifications do not necessarily translate into satisfactory employment. Competitive examinations, recruitment controversies and the scramble for limited government jobs have become symbols of a larger crisis of expectations. Political loyalty can survive economic disappointment for a considerable period, especially when reinforced by nationalism and identity. But it becomes increasingly difficult to sustain when aspirations repeatedly collide with reality.
Farmers constitute another source of discontent. The withdrawal of the three controversial agricultural laws in 2021 demonstrated that sustained resistance could force even a powerful government to retreat. Yet the underlying disputes over remunerative prices, agricultural costs, indebtedness and income security have not disappeared. Rural India remains politically consequential, and the BJP cannot assume that welfare transfers and carefully targeted electoral messaging will indefinitely neutralise agrarian frustration.
The party also faces a more complicated social landscape than its electoral strategists sometimes acknowledge. Caste identities, regional aspirations, demands for representation and the distribution of economic opportunities continue to influence voting behaviour. The opposition’s emphasis on social justice and caste enumeration has challenged the BJP’s attempt to consolidate diverse communities under a single overarching political identity. These competing pressures are particularly important in states where regional parties possess durable organisational networks and deeply rooted social constituencies.
There is also a growing danger in the BJP’s dependence on Modi’s personal authority. For more than a decade, the party has treated his popularity as an answer to almost every political difficulty. State elections have been nationalised around his leadership, local organisational weaknesses have been obscured by centralised campaigning, and government achievements have been presented overwhelmingly as expressions of one individual’s vision. Such personalisation offers enormous advantages while the leader remains popular. It becomes a liability when fatigue sets in.
By the scheduled 2029 general election, Modi will have completed fifteen years as prime minister, approaching the length of Indira Gandhi’s cumulative tenure. The BJP will have held national office for fifteen consecutive years, a period long enough for the government to own not merely its achievements but also the structural failures it once blamed on its predecessors. Anti-incumbency is not an automatic electoral verdict, but it is a powerful political force when accumulated grievances begin to reinforce one another.
The government’s handling of dissent could prove decisive in the days to come. When protest is obstructed, criticism delegitimised and independent voices pressured, public anger does not necessarily subside. It may instead become harder for the ruling establishment to measure. Political leaders surrounded by compliant institutions, favourable media narratives and enthusiastic party machinery can lose touch with the intensity of dissatisfaction outside their immediate circles. The danger is not simply that they suppress dissent, but that they begin to believe their own manufactured consensus.
The 2025 Bihar assembly election and the 2026 state elections have no doubt been morale-boosters for the party. BJP’s capture of West Bengal and its strong performance in Assam demonstrate that the ruling party remains capable of expanding its influence. Yet state victories do not erase the warning delivered by the 2024 parliamentary verdict. Nor do they settle the question of whether the BJP can restore its independent majority nationally.
The comparison with Indira Gandhi ultimately concerns the psychology of power. Her government possessed the machinery to suppress opposition, but not the means to extinguish public resentment. The Emergency created an illusion of political stability that collapsed when voters were allowed to register their judgement. Modi’s India is not Indira Gandhi’s India, and the circumstances of 2029 will be different from those of 1977. But the temptation to confuse institutional control with popular legitimacy remains strikingly familiar.
For a government that has made political dominance an article of faith, the greatest danger may be its diminishing willingness to listen. Every attempt to silence criticism deprives the leadership of information it needs. Every effort to portray disagreement as hostility risks alienating citizens who might otherwise remain persuadable. Every assertion that the nation and its government are politically inseparable raises the stakes of public dissatisfaction. The BJP can still win elections, but it cannot command the permanent allegiance of an electorate whose expectations, grievances and loyalties continue to change. (IPA Service)
