At some point, political rhetoric must yield to historical truth. Telangana today finds itself at that inflection point—especially after Chief Minister A. Revanth Reddy’s latest claim that Christians, particularly in Telangana, should be “thankful” to the Congress and Sonia Gandhi for the creation of the state. It is a sweeping assertion, heavy on gratitude politics but light on historical honesty. The question Telanganites must now ask is simple: who truly enabled their long-cherished dream of separate statehood—and who repeatedly delayed, denied or betrayed it?
If the Congress is indeed the great liberator of Telangana, why did it fail the region for decades when it held absolute power? In 1967, the Telangana Praja Samithi (TPS), led by one of the tallest Congress leaders of that era, Dr Marri Chenna Reddy, swept elections across the Telangana region. If ever there was a democratic mandate for statehood, this was it. Yet the Congress, firmly in power at the Centre, summarily ignored the demand. That betrayal marked the first major fracture between Telangana and the so-called “grand old party.”
Fast forward to 2004. The Telangana Rashtra Samiti (TRS), led by K. Chandrasekhar Rao, emerged as a decisive force, winning a significant number of Assembly and Lok Sabha seats on an unambiguous promise of separate statehood. The Congress, desperate for power at the Centre, rode on that mandate but conveniently sidelined its core demand. Dr Manmohan Singh became Prime Minister; Sonia Gandhi emerged as the de facto power centre. And yet—despite numbers, despite promises—Telangana was once again put on hold. Why? Revanth Reddy owes the people an honest answer.
Even after TRS won 17 Assembly seats and a couple of Lok Sabha seats in 2004, renewing the mandate for Telangana, the Congress continued to drag its feet. Ironically, it is on record that Revanth Reddy himself once argued in the Assembly that even Indira Gandhi had “almost” granted Telangana statehood but held back due to advice that a case involving the last Nizam was pending before an international court. Let us, for argument’s sake, accept this explanation at face value. What, then, stopped the Congress in 2004 or 2009, when no such excuse was even remotely relevant?

Is Revanth Reddy willing to admit that the real roadblock was his political icon, the late Dr Y.S. Rajasekhar Reddy? YSR, then Chief Minister of united Andhra Pradesh, was openly opposed to bifurcation. Will Revanth Reddy dare to name him as the man who stood between Telanganites and their statehood dream? Or does political convenience demand selective amnesia?
Revanth Reddy’s own political journey adds another layer of irony. As a Telugu Desam Party leader, he never once raised his voice against the systematic economic domination of Hyderabad by elites from coastal Andhra and Rayalaseema, who cornered prime lands and wealth. Today, persistent murmurs—never convincingly denied—speak of compromises allegedly aimed at protecting those very interests, including speculative talk of converting Hyderabad into a Union Territory. Whether true or not, such rumours flourish only when credibility erodes.
The Congress narrative further collapses when one examines the decisive moment that actually forced the Centre’s hand. As documented by Sanjay Baru in The Accidental Prime Minister, real power during the UPA years did not reside in the Prime Minister’s Office. And it was not Congress generosity that delivered Telangana—it was political fear.

Chandrasekhar Rao’s indefinite fast in late 2009, when he refused food even as doctors at NIMS warned of life-threatening consequences, shook the Congress establishment. Panic set in when senior Congress leaders warned Sonia Gandhi that KCR’s death would politically devastate the party. That existential fear—not ideological conviction—pushed the UPA-II government to act, conveniently on the eve of the 2014 general elections.
Even the manner in which the Telangana Bill was passed in Parliament in 2014—amid chaos, snapped live telecasts, pepper spray incidents and near-physical clashes—betrayed Congress’s discomfort rather than pride. If this was a historic act of moral courage, why was it executed like a midnight ambush?
Against this backdrop, Revanth Reddy’s sermonising to minorities, coupled with repeated jibes at the Hindu majority, rings hollow. His claim that minorities are “secure” only because of Congress’s rule is not merely exaggerated—it is historically absurd. Independent India has always constitutionally guaranteed religious freedom. To suggest otherwise is to insult both intelligence and history.
Telangana’s people must now introspect. Since 1967, Congress has repeatedly promised, postponed and betrayed. Statehood was not a gift—it was wrested through sacrifice, struggle, and political brinkmanship. To rewrite that story today is not just dishonest; it is an affront to the very movement that made Telangana possible.
