In the grand theatre of Bihar politics, where the stakes are as high as the rhetoric is low, the Jan Suraaj Party leader, Prashant Kishor, has managed to stage a remarkable self-inflicted wound. By withdrawing from the contest against Tejashwi Yadav, the Chairman of the Mahagathbandhan and former Deputy Chief Minister, Kishor has not merely stepped back but has signalled a retreat that reverberates throughout the political landscape. One might liken this to a football player scoring an own goal or a cricket batsman falling victim to the hit wicket rule - a moment of disgrace that leaves spectators both bewildered and entertained.
Prashant Kishor Does Not Walk the Talk
Kishor, a figure who has long dominated social media and television screens with his caustic critiques of opponents, painted himself as a David ready to challenge Goliaths. He promised a showdown in Raghopur, a constituency steeped in his own narrative - his karmabhoomi, where he would supposedly engage in a fierce battle against RJD leader Tejashwi Yadav and BJP's Satish Kumar Yadav. The public, eager for a spectacle akin a mini-Mahabharat, anticipated a clash of titans. Yet, as the campaign has barely begun, Kishor appears to have conceded defeat, retreating to the sidelines as the political arena tightens into a binary struggle between the National Democratic Alliance (NDA) and the Mahagathbandhan.
What could have been a vibrant contest has dissolved into a whisper of what might have been. The polarisation between the two dominant coalitions leaves little room for a third player; the stage had been set for an epic confrontation, yet Kishor's withdrawal feels less like a strategic retreat and more like a surrender. He claims it was his party's decision, a narrative that few are likely to buy. In the grand scheme, Kishor is the architect of his own destiny, the financier and decision-maker, and this narrative of delegation only undermines his credibility further.
Bravado Without Backbone?
In a realm where perception is often reality, Kishor now embodies the archetype of a politician who talks of a grand game but fails to deliver when it counts. He has become a symbol of bravado without backbone, a man whose public persona is rife with bluster yet whose actions betray a deeper fear - a fear of failure in a Yadav-dominated constituency that would have tested his mettle. His previous assaults on the character of his opponents, branding them as “corrupt” and “criminal”, “Ninth-class-fail”, and “forging birth certificate”, now seem like the desperate flailing of a man trapped in his own web of hyperbole.
The irony is palpable; Kishor, the self-styled warrior-general, has laid down his arms before the very adversaries he once sought to vanquish. The political landscape is littered with the corpses of those who overreached, yet Kishor's retreat feels particularly poignant. It raises questions not just about his ambition but about the nature of risk in politics. Is it bravery to enter the fray, or is it a greater courage to know when to step back? In sharp contrast to PK's retreat, critics will always point out the remarkable audacity of Arvind Kejriwal in 2014, who lost to Prime Minister Narendra Modi but did not retreat from the Big Battle in Varanasi.
After all, Satish Kumar Yadav (then a candidate from Janata Dal) defeated Rabri Devi (who was then Chief Minister) in 2010, in Raghopur.
Whither The "Reformer” Narrative?
As the electoral clock ticks down, Kishor's absence from the fray will be notable. The narrative he crafted - of being a reformer ready to challenge the status quo - has been eclipsed by the reality of his retreat. In a world that celebrates the audacious, he has become a cautionary tale of what happens when bluster is not backed by action. In a political arena rife with intrigue and drama, Prashant Kishor's withdrawal serves as a stark reminder: sometimes, the loudest voices are those that ultimately fade into silence.
(The author is Consulting Editor, NDTV)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author
