Rahul Gandhi has a remarkable talent for turning elections into performance art. His latest Bihar escapade took him on a literal ‘fishing expedition’, leaping into the water from a boat in the hope of catching fish with the locals.
The optics were all there – the cameras, the choreographed spontaneity, the trademark earnestness – but the net result was as thin as his attendance record in Parliament.
He returned with a mere six seats in the assembly polls, which Congress loyalists have since described as a ‘moral victory’, the party’s favourite phrase when the scoreboard displays uncomfortable numbers.
The motorcycle rally gimmick
Not long after, he thundered into another state on a motorcycle, leading what the party publicity machine breathlessly titled a ‘youth uprising on wheels’.
The script was familiar. He cried ‘vote chori’, and this time he found yet another villain: the Election Commission’s ‘SIR’ exercise, a massive clean-up drive to rebuild electoral rolls from scratch.
The exercise began because the ECI suspected that states like West Bengal, Assam, and Tripura had thousands of illegal immigrants from Bangladesh who had managed to procure dual documents and convert them into voter IDs.
But for Rahul, everything becomes a grand conspiracy. He declared that SIR was proof of ‘vote chori’, ignoring the simple fact that the ECI was doing precisely what he often demands – cleansing rolls, improving transparency, and verifying legitimacy.
The disappearing act
What Rahul does not demand of himself is consistency. He is visible only when it suits him, and invisible the moment accountability knocks.
His frequent overseas trips have become a predictable pattern. He arrives before an election to make all the wrong noises, storms through rallies with recycled slogans, and the moment the winds begin to blow against him, he heads for the nearest airport.
The latest episode was his quiet trip to Oman while his party colleagues were left to face the heat of a humiliating performance in Bihar.
While Congress workers were explaining away the six-seat spectacle, their leader was taking a breather overseas. Leadership requires staying back when things fall apart, not slipping out with the first hint of defeat.
Even social media joined the laughter: a sarcastic meme of a Mahindra XUV with the caption ‘We have more seats than Congress’ went viral, capturing public sentiment with brutal brevity.
India’s self-styled 55-year-old ‘youth icon’ had earlier predicted that Gen Z would rise like in Nepal and Bangladesh. Reality, however, took a different turn.
The very Gen Z he summoned came out in force to repose faith in Modi and the NDA. Bihar did not believe a word of his warnings either, and handed Modi a resounding victory in the assembly poll.
One wonders in which la-la land Rahul imagines he is leading a revolution, when the supposed revolutionaries themselves are calmly voting for the other side.
Insults without consequence
The Congress leadership, under his watch, has hurled every epithet available at Modi – ‘Chaiwala’, ‘Maut ka Saudagar’, ‘Chowkidar chor’. None of these barbs has slowed the Prime Minister, who continues to move along like an elephant unbothered by roadside barking.
The election results repeatedly prove that Indians have no patience for personalised attacks, particularly when Rahul’s rhetoric descends to targeting Modi’s late mother, a woman who lived outside politics and harmed nobody. Indians, who hold mothers in deep reverence, are unforgiving when such a boundary is crossed.
The attacks have not been confined to individuals. Rahul has cast unending aspersions on the Election Commission, the Enforcement Directorate, the CBI, and half a dozen other constitutional institutions. Not a shred of evidence accompanied these allegations. If he possessed any, he had the full freedom to approach the courts.
But empty speculation makes for easier headlines, especially when one is not weighed down by the need to substantiate anything.
A refusal to engage with real issues
In all this melodrama, what is consistently missing is maturity. Elections are ultimately about people – their livelihoods, their education, their welfare.
While other parties, even the smaller ones, attempted to produce manifestos that addressed unemployment, skilling, inflation, and rural incomes, Rahul opted for theatrics.
From tearing up ordinances in the past to staging protests before functioning cameras, his politics has been long on symbolism and short on substance.
At a time when India looks for serious leadership, itinerant performances – whether on fishing boats, motorbikes, or international flights – offer little comfort. A credible alternative requires credible ideas. That begins with accepting electoral verdicts, respecting institutions, and presenting voters with a thoughtful vision rather than a travelling circus of slogans.
Until that happens, Rahul Gandhi’s political journey will remain what it has increasingly become: a series of photo-ops interrupted only by frequent departures from the nearest terminal.
