The cracks are unmistakable. The party’s timeless mantra— “Na jaat pe, na paat pe; mohar lagegi haath pe”—once embodied a pan-Indian appeal that cut across caste and creed. It helped weld together a diverse coalition of voters. But today?
In the dim corridors of Congress headquarters, an open revolt is quietly taking shape. Senior party veterans—battle-hardened leaders who have survived decades of electoral warfare—are sounding a grim warning. Rahul Gandhi’s relentless push for caste-centric politics, aggressively courting OBCs and Dalits while marginalising upper castes, has thrown the old guard into a state of alarm.
“This isn’t the Congress we built,” one senior leader confided, requesting anonymity. “We were always a big-tent party. Not foot soldiers in a caste crusade.”
The cracks are unmistakable. The party’s timeless mantra— “Na jaat pe, na paat pe; mohar lagegi haath pe”—once embodied a pan-Indian appeal that cut across caste and creed. It helped weld together a diverse coalition of voters. But today? Rahul’s new script is pushing away Brahmins and other influential communities who have historically brought money, muscle, and decisive influence in key battleground states.
The Bihar debacle is Exhibit A. Insiders say Rahul’s OBC-EBC fixation backfired spectacularly. Snubbed upper castes struck back with vengeance at the ballot box, sinking alliances and crippling the Grand Alliance. “They voted against us with fury,” a strategist admitted. “Resources? They control plenty. Power? Undeniable. We ignored them, and we paid the price.”
The verdict from the veterans is blunt: Drop the divisive caste narrative. Return to the golden slogan—*“Congress ka haath, aam aadmi ke saath.”* The poor, they argue, are the party’s natural backbone, cutting across caste lines without alienating anyone. State after state tells the same story: despite sustained wooing, OBC and Dalit voters have drifted away from Congress.
“We’ve always practised social justice internally—ticket distribution, constituency calibration,” the leader explained. “But publicly, we spoke for all Indians. That’s what worked. That’s what won.”
But Rahul’s inner circle tells a different tale—one of detachment and ideological drift. His increasingly left-leaning worldview has opened the gates to outsiders: NGO activists, former bureaucrats, and corporate intellectuals with zero grassroots grounding. “Theoreticians are running the show,” scoffed another veteran. “No political instinct. Only big ideas that crash on impact.”
Enter the “Jai Jagat” brigade—a motley crew of non-politicos allegedly steering Rahul into repeated disasters. Their missteps, insiders claim, were glaring in Bihar, where incharge of Bihar elections Krishna Allavaru is accused of pushing the party off an electoral cliff. Yet Rahul, they say, remains in denial—refusing even to acknowledge the loss.
“They’re messing up big time,” one furious insider said. “And no one is willing to tell him the truth.”
Inside whispers are now becoming open warnings: without an urgent course correction, isolation looms. Consecutive defeats could push the Grand Old Party toward irreversible decline.
“Rahul must wake up,” the elders insist. “The path he’s on leads straight to the grave.”
As Congress totters, the question hangs heavy: Will the prince finally heed the veterans—
or stand by as the empire collapses around him?
History is watching.
His party is pleading.
The clock is ticking.
And if Rahul doesn’t change course now, India may soon be writing the political obituary of the Grand Old Party—signed, sealed, and delivered by its own crown prince.
Renu Mittal
Renu Mittal is a veteran Journalist of India. She has been reporting on the Congress Party affairs since 1983.
