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| PL - Prashant Kishor | PTI |
As the electronic voting machines of Bihar fall silent and the ink on voters' fingers fades, the state braces for a reckoning on November 14, 2025. The assembly elections, a high-stakes drama of alliances, caste arithmetic, and unfulfilled promises, have once again thrust Prashant Kishor—political strategist turned aspiring kingmaker—into the spotlight. Will his fledgling Jan Suraaj Party emerge as a disruptor, claiming a slice of the 243-seat pie and forcing a triangular verdict? Or will it fizzle out, relegating Kishor to the footnotes of Bihar's turbulent politics? Early exit polls paint a sobering picture: the National Democratic Alliance (NDA), led by Nitish Kumar's Janata Dal (United) and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), is projected to cruise to victory with 140-150 seats, while the opposition Mahagathbandhan (Grand Alliance) of Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD), Congress, and Left parties hovers around 80-90. For Jan Suraaj, the forecasts are grim—0 to 5 seats at best, a far cry from Kishor's audacious bid to contest nearly all constituencies. This debut performance, if it holds, underscores a harsh truth: in Bihar, where leaders like Nitish Kumar and Lalu Prasad Yadav have clawed their way through decades of coalition chess, newcomers rarely rewrite the script on their first try.
Yet, for all the pollsters' pragmatism, Kishor's odyssey demands deeper scrutiny. At 47, he is no ordinary entrant. A former United Nations health coordinator turned election whisperer, Kishor has orchestrated triumphs across India's ideological spectrum—from Narendra Modi's tea-stall charisma to Mamata Banerjee's Bengal fortress. His Jan Suraaj Padyatra, a grueling 3,000-kilometer trek across Bihar's dusty veins from October 2022 to 2024, was meant to humanize him: the son of the soil, knocking on doors, amplifying the voiceless. Launching the party on Gandhi Jayanti 2024 with a manifesto centered on education, jobs, and women's empowerment, he positioned himself as Bihar's overdue reformer. But as results loom, one question lingers: Is Prashant Kishor driven by a genuine zeal for Bihar's upliftment, or is this a calculated pivot from consultancy riches to the throne of power? In the labyrinth of Indian politics, where loyalty is fleeting and ambition eternal, Kishor's story is both cautionary and captivating—a tale of brilliance shadowed by opportunism.
To unravel this enigma, we must trace Kishor's improbable ascent. Born in 1977 in Rohtas, Bihar, he trained as a doctor but veered toward public health, spending years in Chad, Central Africa, spearheading UN projects on malnutrition and disease control. It was a far cry from the poll-bound frenzy of Indian hustings, yet it honed his data-driven ethos. Returning in the late 2000s, Kishor volunteered in Amethi, Rahul Gandhi's bastion, pushing health initiatives at Sanjay Gandhi Hospital. Whispers of a Congress rendezvous surfaced, but fate—or perhaps ideological mismatch—steered him elsewhere.
His breakout arrived in 2010, courtesy of a scathing op-ed on Gujarat's child malnutrition crisis. Narendra Modi, then chief minister, took note. In a meeting that would redefine Indian campaigns, Kishor pitched a revamped healthcare blueprint. Impressed by the outsider's acuity—Modi has always prized talent over pedigree—the Gujarat strongman inducted him into the administration. From 2010 to 2012, as Amit Shah navigated his Sohrabuddin case exile, Kishor became Modi's shadow operative: scripting speeches, crunching voter data, and projecting the "Vikas Purush" (Development Man) image. The 2012 Gujarat polls were his laboratory. Innovating with 3D hologram technology—a Guinness World Record feat—Modi's virtual self addressed 53 locations across 26 cities simultaneously. The BJP swept 115 of 182 seats, cementing Modi's aura and Kishor's legend.
Emboldened, Kishor formalized his vision in 2013 with Citizens for Accountable Governance (CAG), a talent magnet drawing IIT-IIM grads to Modi's 2014 Lok Sabha war room. This was electioneering's digital dawn: Chai Pe Charcha sessions beamed via apps, the 3D "Run for Unity" hologram rally, and Har Ghar Modi door-to-door blitzes. Social media, once a novelty, became a weapon—hashtags trended, memes multiplied, and youth turnout surged 7% over 2009 levels. Modi's landslide (336 seats for NDA) owed much to this alchemy, sealing the youth vote for a generation. But hubris, they say, is the strategist's Achilles' heel. Post-victory, Kishor eyed CAG's evolution into a Modi advisory council, perhaps even a ministerial perch. BJP insiders bristled at his credit-grabbing—whispers of "he did it all, we did nothing" irked Amit Shah, the party's unyielding tactician. By mid-2014, paths diverged. Kishor, stung, birthed Indian Political Action Committee (IPAC) in 2015, vowing independence.
Bihar became his proving ground. As Nitish Kumar chafed at Modi's "non-secular" ascent—snapping a 17-year BJP alliance in 2013—Kishor mediated the improbable: a Nitish-Lalu Prasad Yadav pact against the NDA. IPAC's playbook was vintage Kishor: micro-targeting Yadav-Muslim voters, data-mapped rallies, and Nitish's "Sushasan" (good governance) redux. The Mahagathbandhan triumphed with 178 seats; Nitish reclaimed the chief minister's chair, rewarding Kishor with a cabinet-rank advisory post. It was validation: the Bihari prodigal had returned, not as a consultant, but a confidant.
Yet, fidelity proved fickle. By 2017, as Nitish realigned with BJP amid RJD graft scandals, Kishor was sidelined—only to resurface as JD(U) vice president in 2018, ostensibly to sync with BJP for 2019. Skeptics saw shadows: Was this Amit Shah's olive branch, or Kishor's pragmatism? Sources claim Nitish's 2020 expulsion of Kishor stemmed from the latter's CAA dissent—tweeting against the bill JD(U) backed—exposing fault lines. Undeterred, Kishor juggled: scripting Jagan Mohan Reddy's YSRCP tsunami in Andhra (151/175 seats, 2019), Uddhav Thackeray's Maharashtra coup, and Arvind Kejriwal's Delhi dominance (62/70 seats, 2020). In polarized Delhi, amid Shaheen Bagh's CAA protests, IPAC neutralized BJP's Hindu-Muslim wedge, turning Kejriwal's "Mohalla Clinics" into vote magnets.
Bengal 2021 was poetic revenge. Predicting BJP's double-digit flop—a stake he honored by quitting consultancy if wrong—Kishor fortified Mamata's Trinamool Congress (TMC) against Shah's Bengal blitz. TMC's 213/294 seats buried BJP's 77; insiders hailed it as Kishor's personal jab at his old nemesis. Tamil Nadu's DMK sweep followed in 2021. But Congress dalliances soured twice: Punjab 2017's anti-incumbency win (under Captain Amarinder Singh) masked UP's flop, where "Khat Sabha" rallies flopped spectacularly—farmers pilfered cots amid empty chairs—and the Akhilesh-Rahul "UP ke Ladke" duo crumbled. By 2022, Sonia Gandhi's overtures for a 2024 war room fizzled; Kishor tweeted Congress needed "collective will," not him, amid qualms over his multi-party portfolio.
This peripatetic genius—ideologically agnostic, as critics quip—netted IPAC crores, but power beckoned. "To change Bihar, seize power first," he declared in May 2022, launching the Jan Suraaj Padyatra from Bhitiharwa Gandhi Ashram, echoing the Mahatma's 1917 Champaran Satyagraha. Over 665 days, he traversed 3,000+ kilometers, from Purnia's floodplains to Patna's bustle, logging grievances in 243 "Janata Sabhas." The party crystallized on October 2, 2024, with a crisp five-pillar agenda:
- Education Overhaul: Doubling school budgets, teacher training, and digital classrooms to stem the 40% dropout rate plaguing Bihar's youth.
- Employment Surge: Industrial corridors and skill hubs targeting 2 million jobs annually, confronting the state's 20% unemployment (per NSSO 2023 data).
- Universal Pensions: ₹1,000 monthly for seniors and widows, expanding Nitish's schemes without fiscal recklessness.
- Women's Empowerment Loans: Collateral-free credit up to ₹5 lakh for self-help groups, building on Bihar's 50% female panchayat reservation.
- Land Reforms: Digitizing records to end disputes, redistributing 10 lakh acres to landless Dalits and EBCs—a nod to lingering zamindari scars.
These pledges, symbolized by the party's school-bag emblem, promise accountability: measurable milestones, citizen audits. Yet, as exit polls whisper defeat, cracks emerge. Jan Suraaj's 10% vote share in 2024 bypolls—third or fourth in four seats—foreshadowed trouble. Contesting 238 seats with mostly novice candidates (clean-image professionals, sans caste baggage), it bets on anti-establishment fervor. But Bihar's electorate, weaned on Lalu's MY (Muslim-Yadav) fortress, Nitish's Kurmi-EBC consolidation, and BJP's upper-caste sway, demands more than rhetoric.
Kishor's innovations, once game-changers, feel muted here. No Chai Pe Charcha holograms or viral memes; the Padyatra was epic, but follow-up lacks sizzle. He forgoes a chief ministerial face—himself or proxy—leaving voters adrift: Whom to trust in this faceless fray? His retreat from contesting (initially eyeing a Tejashwi Yadav showdown) dilutes the buzz. Caste blindness, while principled, is perilous: RJD's 30% MY bloc, JD(U)'s 15% EBC-Koeri vote—Jan Suraaj's agnosticism risks vote fragmentation without consolidation.
Critics scent opportunism. Recruiting YouTuber Manish Kashyap—infamous for anti-Gandhi barbs—jars with Ambedkar-Gandhi iconography. Taunting Tejashwi as a "Class 9 dropout" rings hollow when Jan Suraaj's inaugural president, Uday Singh, boasts only Class 12 credentials. Digital ad blitzes—outspending the Grand Alliance—reek of IPAC's old playbook, yet yield scant traction. Conspiracy mills churn: Is Jan Suraaj BJP's B-team, vote-cutter extraordinaire? Nitish's 2020 barb—that Shah engineered Kishor's JD(U) entry—fuels it. Despite CAA barbs and Bengal humiliation, BJP's silence (no ED raids, unlike foes) breeds suspicion. Tejashwi brands him a "BJP agent"; Sanjay Jaiswal retorts he's Lalu's stooge. Kishor disavows alliances, vowing kingmaker independence—a la AAP's Delhi storm—but Bihar ain't Delhi. No anti-incumbency inferno rages; Nitish's roads (Bihar's highway density up 300% since 2005) and "jungle raj" exorcism earn grudging nods, even as migration (3 million Biharis abroad) and joblessness fester.
Exit polls confirm the miscalculation: No vacuum for insurgents, no AAP-like wrath. Youth ire simmers—80% of migrants hail from Bihar—but converts to ballots sluggishly. Jan Suraaj's 2024 launch echoed AAP's 2012 Gujarat mirage: buzz sans breakthrough. Kishor's binary bravado—"150 seats or bust"—mirrors a student's gold-or-fail gamble, unbefitting a data maven.
So, what of November 14? A 0-5 haul would sting, potentially rebooting Kishor to consultancy—DMK 2026? TMC redux? Yet, even a modest 10-15 seats (if polls err) could mint a broker: post-poll math might need his bloc for NDA's 122 majority. Bihar's history favors coalitions; Lalu's 1990s reign birthed Nitish's 2005 pivot. A kingmaker Kishor—demanding portfolios, reforms—could jolt stagnation.
Ultimately, Prashant Kishor embodies India's political mutation: from booth-level drudgery to algorithm-fueled theater. His fakiri—flitting ideologies for efficacy—irks purists, but yields results. In Bihar, where 58% vote on caste (per CSDS 2020), his class-war pitch (jobs over jati) is noble folly. If Jan Suraaj flops, it's no requiem: At his core, he's the eternal consultant, peddling change to the highest bidder. But should he snag power's sliver, Bihar might yet witness dawn. Hero or zero? The EVMs will tell—but in this game, survivors script sequels. As the sun rises on results day, one suspects Kishor, ever the strategist, has already plotted his next hologram.
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