When Telangana Chief Minister A. Revanth Reddy declared that the state was bankrupt, he wasn’t joking. In fact, he seemed to revel in the rare political act of public self-pity—more fit for a stand-up routine than a Chief Minister’s address.
On the eve of a potential strike by TSRTC unions, Revanth took the stage not to inspire confidence, but to openly admit defeat. “We have only ₹18,500 crore revenue—just enough to run the government,” he lamented, adding that neither the Centre nor banks are willing to lend to Telangana, fearing they may lose more than just money: “They think we might take away even their chappals.” That’s a direct quote from the man who holds the highest elected office in the state.
One could call it “plain speak,” but others might describe it as a cringeworthy abdication of leadership. Since when did the Chief Minister’s Office become a confessional booth for fiscal helplessness? Worse, Revanth couched his plea in paternal tones, begging employees to understand his “plight” as the “head of the family.” That’s not statesmanship. That’s emotional blackmail.
He even posed a bizarre question to striking employees: “Tell me which welfare scheme I should suspend to meet your demands?” Well, if he’s really asking, here’s a suggestion: start with the ₹3,000 crore earmarked for Muslim welfare—an unashamedly appeasement-driven allocation. Revanth wants suggestions? The BJP should hand him a list.
Let’s not forget who Revanth Reddy is—a man who began his political career in the ABVP, jumped to the TDP under N.T. Rama Rao’s charisma, and then shifted to Congress just in time for the 2018 elections, carrying the baggage of the infamous ‘cash-for-vote’ scandal that even landed him in jail. That didn’t stop the Congress high command from promoting him straight into the PCC chief’s post. Why? Because he shouted the loudest against KCR.
That gamble paid off in the Assembly elections, thanks more to anti-incumbency against the BRS than any ideological resurgence of the Congress. The BJP, which had emerged as a serious challenger, undermined itself by replacing firebrand Bandi Sanjay with the soft-spoken Kishan Reddy. Result? The BJP sank to third place in the Assembly race. But Modi’s direct involvement in the Lok Sabha campaign revived the BJP, handing it nine parliamentary seats and leaving BRS in the dust.
Now, Revanth’s self-declared financial paralysis opens another window. If he has so publicly admitted that the state is broke, shouldn’t the BJP demand his resignation? If he cannot govern, what business does he have running the state? Revanth is now a Chief Minister who wears incompetence as a badge of honesty. That’s not boldness. That’s surrender.
This is the perfect time for the BJP to seize the narrative. Demand that all non-essential welfare schemes—especially vote-bank indulgences—be frozen. Go to court to stop the auctioning of public lands meant for institutions like the University of Hyderabad. Push for austerity: slash the salaries of MLAs, cut perks, cancel luxury cars and unnecessary foreign tours. If the state is broke, let the pain begin at the top.
But will Revanth do any of this? Or is his appeal just a prelude to mortgaging the state’s future further? His government’s financial irresponsibility already includes mortgaging forest land to raise funds. The so-called “family head” seems more like a gambler trying to sell the family silver to pay off credit card debt.
Let’s be clear. Telangana’s fiscal mess isn’t only Revanth’s doing. The BRS government, in its final years, prioritized national dreams over regional responsibilities. Its leader’s arrogance and dynastic politics alienated the people. But Revanth was elected to clean up the mess, not cry over it.
So here we are: a CM who publicly confesses insolvency, requests budgetary advice from unions, and asks for cooperation instead of providing leadership. If this is the new template for governance, one shudders to imagine what would happen in a real crisis.
Revanth Reddy can either rise to the occasion with decisive, brave reforms, or continue to play the role of the bankrupt messiah. If the latter, the BJP must push hard, inside and outside the legislature, to expose this farce. Because Telangana doesn’t need a Chief Minister who raises his hands in despair—it needs one who rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.
