The Unintended Birth of a Dynasty: Nehru, Indira, and the Follies of Indian Political Elites

 

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In an article for Project Syndicate on October 31, Shashi Tharoor claimed that the Nehru-Gandhi family “cemented the idea that political leadership can be a birthright.” He is, of course, entitled to his opinion, but when such claims distort history to support a popular narrative, they deserve to be questioned. November reminds us of two towering Indian leaders whose influence on politics still endures. Both are often accused of creating and sustaining “dynastic rule” in India. But is this charge fair? Was the so-called dynasty built deliberately, or did it emerge naturally because India’s opposition lacked unity, vision, and leadership? The truth may lie somewhere between history’s complexity and convenient simplifications of political events. 

Jawaharlal Nehru, India’s first Prime Minister, never planned to hand over power to his daughter Indira Gandhi. He saw Jayaprakash Narayan, a socialist and Gandhian thinker, as a better successor. After Nehru’s death in 1964, the Congress “Syndicate” led by K. Kamaraj chose Lal Bahadur Shastri as Prime Minister. When Shastri died suddenly in 1966, they picked Indira Gandhi, believing she would be an obedient goongi gudia or dumb doll. But Indira soon proved them wrong—she defeated her rivals, strengthened her control, and turned her family into India’s longest-lasting political dynasty.

The irony is inescapable: a dynasty that dominates even today was born less from Nehru or Indira’s ambition than from the follies of their contemporaries.

Nehru’s Vision for Succession: The Preference for Jayaprakash Narayan

Jawaharlal Nehru opposed dynastic politics. He once said, “I dislike the idea of anyone succeeding me merely because of blood ties.” He wanted an ideological heir, not a family one, and often tried to bring Jayaprakash Narayan (JP) into the government. Nehru had admired JP since the 1930s, when the young socialist became a strong voice in the Congress Socialist Party. JP’s underground work during the Quit India Movement impressed Nehru deeply.

Braj Kumar Nehru, the Prime Minister’s cousin and civil servant, recorded a telling anecdote: Nehru confessed to JP that his Cabinet was full of hollow timid men and begged him to join, to act as a conscience keeper and eventually perhaps as his successor. H.Y. Sharada Prasad later described JP’s refusal as “a real waste of a vast and unusual national resource.” But JP was reluctant to wield power. A “philosophical anarchist” in the Gandhian mould, he saw politics as corrupting and instead dedicated himself to grassroots movements like Sarvodaya. He turned down Nehru’s repeated invitations, declaring that he could serve India better outside the corridors of power.

Contemporary observers shared Nehru’s admiration. In 1963, the Time magazine profile described JP as “next to Nehru, the most popular man in India.” But his disdain for realpolitik and simplistic prescriptions alienated many Congress insiders. Nehru’s disappointment was palpable: without JP, his vision of a morally upright, non-dynastic succession crumbled.

Nehru did not promote Indira as a successor. When she became Congress president in 1959 at the behest of U.N. Dhebar and Govind Ballabh Pant, Nehru publicly rebuked the decision as “unwise” while he was still Prime Minister. Their relationship was often fraught; after Indira orchestrated the dismissal of Kerala’s Communist government in 1959 without his consent, he did not speak to her for months. Clearly, Nehru had nothing to do with the dynasty. Those who blame Indira Gandhi for converting the Indian National Congress into a family business should first familiarise themselves with actions of those who impelled her to do this.

The Transition to Shastri: Compromise Amid Party Realities

When Nehru died on May 27, 1964, India entered uncharted waters. For 17 years, Nehru had towered over the political scene; his absence left a vacuum. The Congress “Syndicate” comprising regional satraps, like K. Kamaraj, S.K. Patil, Atulya Ghosh, and N. Sanjiva Reddy, moved quickly to control the succession.

Morarji Desai, senior Congress leader and Finance Minister, demanded to be Prime Minister. But his rigid manner and insistence on a formal election alienated many. Kamaraj orchestrated a consensus around Lal Bahadur Shastri, a mild-mannered, humble leader known for integrity.

Shastri’s elevation was described by political scientist Rajni Kothari as “a triumph of the middle way”. Which was acceptable to all factions and not threatening to anyone’s power. Shastri himself embodied modesty. Known for his slogan Jai Jawan, Jai Kisan, he led the country through the 1965 war with Pakistan, earning respect.

Yet Shastri’s sudden death in Tashkent on January 11, 1966, reopened the leadership question. Shastri had once admitted that if JP Narayan had agreed, he would have gladly stepped aside. But JP remained aloof. The Syndicate now faced a choice: Desai or someone they could control.

The Syndicate’s Gamble: Indira as “Goongi Gudiya”

The Syndicate decided to back Indira Gandhi, Nehru’s daughter. Their calculation was simple: her surname offered mass appeal, but her gender and inexperience made her appear weak. In a secret ballot on January 19, 1966, Indira defeated Desai 355–169. Kamaraj, the kingmaker, justified his decision by citing her lack of threat: “She is Nehru’s daughter, but she is politically innocent. We will manage her.” Opposition leader Ram Manohar Lohia sneered, calling her a goongi gudiya.

Kamaraj himself had considered the top job but quipped self-deprecatingly, “No Hindi, no English—how could I unite the nation?” Instead, he saw in Indira a placeholder until the 1967 elections. This miscalculation proved disastrous. Indira had spent years as Nehru’s confidante, hostess, and informal advisor, acquiring deep political instincts. Her quiet demeanour masked a steely resolve.

From Nehru’s death in 1964 to the Janata collapse in 1979, the path of succession was shaped by these pivotal moments: the missed chance of JP Narayan, Shastri’s brief tenure and sudden demise, Indira’s elevation as a compromise candidate, her revolt against the Syndicate in 1969, the Emergency of 1975–77, and finally the Janata Party’s disintegration that restored her to power in 1980. Each stage illustrates how short-term tactical decisions by Congress leaders and the opposition inadvertently reinforced the dynasty’s staying power.

From Puppet to “Iron Lady”

Once in office, Indira began asserting herself. By the late 1960s, she clashed with the Syndicate over policies like bank nationalisation and abolition of privy purses. When the Syndicate supported Sanjiva Reddy for President in 1969, Indira openly backed V.V. Giri, who won.

The showdown culminated in the Congress split of 1969. Indira expelled Syndicate leaders and formed Congress (I), which soon eclipsed the old guard. Journalist Frank Moraes wrote that Indira had executed “a pure political coup.”

Bank nationalisation and the 1971 slogan Garibi Hatao secured her popular mandate. In the 1971 elections, her faction won a landslide. The subsequent victory in the Bangladesh Liberation War further cemented her image as the nation’s undisputed leader.

The Syndicate’s blunder—choosing her as a puppet—thus unwittingly gave birth to the dynasty.

Opposition Disunity: A Gift to Indira

If Congress leaders created the conditions for dynastic dominance, the Opposition ensured its survival through fragmentation.

The JP-led movement of 1974, which united students, workers, and intellectuals against corruption, seemed poised to dethrone Indira. But her response was the declaration of Emergency on June 25, 1975. Civil liberties were suspended, opposition leaders jailed, and the press censored.

When elections were finally held in 1977, Indira was routed, and the Janata Party—a coalition of socialists, right-wingers, and former Congressmen—came to power. Yet its leaders, Morarji Desai, Charan Singh, and Jagjivan Ram, were unable to overcome personal rivalries. Within two years, the government collapsed.

Indira returned in triumph in 1980. Her comeback was described by political commentator Arun Shourie as “a second birth.” Opposition disunity had handed her the opportunity to restore the dynasty’s dominance.

Even her grooming of her sons, first Sanjay Gandhi (whose authoritarianism during the Emergency tarnished her image) and later Rajiv Gandhi, was facilitated by the absence of credible opposition alternatives.

Why the Dynasty Took Root

The rise of the Nehru-Gandhi dynasty was not a carefully orchestrated plan but rather the outcome of a series of historical accidents and political choices. Jawaharlal Nehru’s preferred successor, Jayaprakash Narayan, refused to enter the corridors of power, leaving a vacuum. The Congress Syndicate then misjudged Indira Gandhi, assuming she would remain pliant and controllable, only to watch her consolidate authority instead. Meanwhile, the opposition’s chronic inability to unite against her gave Indira repeated chances to recover and strengthen her position. Added to this was the enduring mass appeal of the Nehru name, deeply tied to the independence struggle and Nehru’s personal charisma, which allowed Indira and later her sons to command wide electoral support. Clearly, the dynasty was a product of several factors. Disunity among the opposition parties and the Congress Party’s reluctance to look for other leadership options were the major ones. Indeed the iconic Gandhi name combined with the Nehruvian charisma   became the most convenient and effective way to mobilise voters. Let us not forget that for a long time the Gandhi surname evoked Mahatma Gandhi’s image in the public mind.

Conclusion: Dynasties and Democratic Follies

The Nehru-Gandhi dynasty was not born out of any plan or project by Nehru or even by Indira in her early years. It grew out of a chain of mistakes—Jayaprakash Narayan’s idealism, the Congress Syndicate’s arrogance, and a weak Opposition. What began as a temporary move became a dynasty because Indira was far smarter and tougher than anyone expected. The irony is that dynasties last not only due to family ambition but also because elites make mistakes and voters allow it. The dynasty’s rise came less from Nehru’s wishes or Indira’s manoeuvrings and more from the blunders of his colleagues and shortsighted politics of the opposition parties.

Jawaharlal Nehru, Jayaprakash Narayan, Sarvodaya, Indira Gandhi, Syndicate, Gandhi, Sanjay Gandhi, Rajiv Gandhi, Priyanka Vadra, Rahul Gandhi, Morarji Desai, Charan Singh, Jagjivan Ram, Emergency, Civil Rights, Indian National Congress, BJP, NDA, UPA, Lal Bahadur Shastri, Bangladesh Liberation War, Pakistan, Sanjiva Reddy, VV Giri, Kamaraj, Garibi Hatao, Ram Manohar Lohia

Faith, Doubt, and the Universal Good: Why Atheism Holds the Greatest Relevance Today

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The clash between faith and reason remains one of humanity’s oldest and most unresolved debates. It raises timeless questions: Why do we exist, how should we live, and what gives life meaning? Over centuries, three great worldviews have offered different answers. Polytheism embraces diversity through many gods, monotheism seeks unity through one supreme deity, and atheism rejects divine authority altogether, relying on human reason. Each has shaped civilisations, ethics, and culture in profound ways. Yet in a world connected by technology but divided by inequality, war, and ecological crisis, the real challenge is to pursue universal good—peace, justice, equality, and sustainability. Polytheism’s pluralism, monotheism’s moral cohesion, and atheism’s rational humanism all offer partial solutions. But as faith-based systems struggle with dogma and exclusivism, it is worth asking: does atheism, with its emphasis on reason and humanity, offer the most relevant path for the 21st century?

Polytheism: Diversity of the Divine, but Limited Reach

Polytheism thrived in ancient civilisations from Greece to India. Its greatest strength was pluralism: many gods meant many truths. As historian Wendy Doniger notes, Hinduism’s polytheistic base allowed it to absorb local traditions, fostering tolerance.

It nurtured ecological reverence. The Ganga in India or kami spirits in Japan’s Shinto illustrate how nature itself became divine. In an era of climate catastrophe, this ethos resonates strongly. Although polytheism’s ecological wisdom is invaluable it falls short as a framework for universal good. It does not offer global moral universals or a shared ethical anchor for humanity. Its tolerance is not universal. It reinforces social hierarchies, such as the caste system in India or slavery in Greece. Furthermore, polytheistic societies often fragment politically. History shows how rivalries between city-states or clans were tied to their patron gods.

Monotheism: Strength in Unity, Danger in Exclusivity

Monotheism provides powerful moral universals. The Ten Commandments, the Sermon on the Mount, and the Quran’s injunction that “Allah commands justice and the doing of good” (Quran 16:90) shaped societies. Figures like Martin Luther King Jr. drew on Christian teachings to demand justice and equality.

It has created strong institutions: churches, mosques, hospitals, universities—many of which advanced social welfare and learning. The Islamic Golden Age, when scholars preserved and expanded classical knowledge, remains a testament to monotheism’s creative energy.

Yet monotheism’s emphasis on “one true God” has too often fostered intolerance. The Crusades, inquisitions, and modern sectarian conflicts are grim reminders. As Voltaire said, “Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.”

Monotheism also struggles with modernity. From the Galileo trial to contemporary debates over LGBTQ+ rights, doctrines often lag behind human progress. Patriarchal readings have also entrenched gender inequality. So, it is less adaptable in pluralistic, secular democracies. Its potential for universal good is constrained by its rigidity.

Atheism: Rational Foundations for the Universal Good

Atheism gained momentum during the Enlightenment and shaped modern democracies. Its greatest strength is rational inquiry. By refusing to accept truths without evidence, atheism laid the foundation for science. Carl Sagan’s maxim—“Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence”—captures this ethos.

Atheism grounds morality in human welfare, not divine command. Secular democracies such as Sweden, Norway, and Denmark—largely atheist—consistently rank highest in equality, happiness, and social trust. These societies demonstrate that ethics rooted in reason and empathy, not theology, best serve the universal good.

Since it denies divinity, atheism is free of priestly hierarchies or divine intermediaries. Individuals are free to shape their own lives. John Stuart Mill’s principle of liberty—that individuals are sovereign over their own bodies and minds—aligns with atheistic humanism.

Nevertheless, critics warn that atheism risks moral relativism. Dostoevsky’s famous line, “If God is dead, everything is permitted,” captures this anxiety. Indeed, 20th-century regimes like Stalin’s USSR weaponised atheism for authoritarianism.

Yet such examples reflect political ideology more than atheism itself. Secular democracies demonstrate that atheism, when coupled with human rights frameworks, prevents chaos and flourishes.

In a world where scientific solutions are critical—from pandemics to climate change—atheism’s rational, evidence-based approach is indispensable. It provides a universal language of reason that transcends religious divisions, making it the most relevant worldview for universal good.

Comparative Analysis

On Pluralism

Polytheism, by its very nature, is plural. The recognition of many gods means that different communities, tribes, or regions can worship their own deities without negating others. This created a spirit of tolerance in many polytheistic societies, such as ancient India, where multiple gods coexisted within the same pantheon. However, polytheism’s pluralism is not universal. It tends to be limited to cultural or geographic boundaries. Those outside the system, like foreigners or those who reject all gods—are often excluded. However, Hinduism does accept atheism in its fold.

On the other hand, monotheism claims universality because it rests on the idea of one supreme God for all humanity. This allows it to provide powerful moral universals that can, in theory, bind diverse people together. Yet, in practice, monotheism has often been intolerant of rivals, branding other faiths as false or heretical. This exclusivist tendency has led to conflicts and persecution throughout history, from the Crusades to modern sectarian violence.

Atheism offers a different form of universality. It is grounded in reason and evidence. Its principles are not bound to any culture, ethnicity, or tradition. Rational inquiry is accessible to all humans, making atheism potentially the most inclusive worldview. Its universality lies in the fact that the tools of science and critical thinking apply equally, whether one is in Asia, Europe, or Africa.

On Morality

Polytheistic moral systems are often context-specific, tied to local traditions and the authority of specific deities. This has created a rich tapestry of ethical diversity but also unevenness. What is morally acceptable in one culture might be condemned in another, and there is little sense of universal human rights.

Monotheism has stronger moral universals. These have created ethical frameworks that transcend local customs and offer a sense of duty toward all human beings. Yet, these universals tend to be rigid in practice. Doctrines are often interpreted inflexibly, leaving little room for adaptation to new social realities such as gender equality or secular governance.

Atheism grounds morality not in divine authority but in human welfare. Ethical choices are evaluated by their consequences for human happiness, dignity, and survival. This makes atheism flexible and rational, open to revision when new evidence or social conditions arise. By rooting morality in human needs rather than divine will, atheism offers a pragmatic approach that avoids both relativism and rigidity.

On Ecology

Polytheism’s reverence for nature remains one of its greatest strengths. By venerating rivers, mountains, forests, and animals, polytheistic traditions embed ecological respect into daily life. Sacred groves in India or Shinto shrines in Japan reflect this nature-centred spirituality, which resonates deeply in today’s age of climate crisis.

Monotheism presents a mixed record on ecology. Some strands teach that humanity is entrusted with caring for God’s creation. Others interpret dominion over nature as a license for exploitation, contributing to ecological harm. The result is an ambivalent legacy that continues to shape religious attitudes toward the environment.

Atheism approaches ecology scientifically. It stresses environmentalism through evidence-based understanding of ecosystems, climate change, and sustainability. While it may lack the spiritual depth of polytheistic traditions, its practical solutions—renewable energy, conservation policies, technological innovation—make it indispensable for addressing global ecological challenges.

On Institutions

Polytheistic societies have produced vibrant cultures, rich mythologies, and enduring art, but they often suffer from fragmented governance. In the past, rival city-states or clans frequently fought for dominance, and political unity was hard to sustain.

Monotheism excels in building powerful institutions—churches, mosques, universities, hospitals—that last for centuries and shape civilisations. Yet, these institutions can turn authoritarian, suppressing dissent and enforcing orthodoxy through coercion.

Atheism underpins modern secular democracies. It protects freedoms through constitutions and human rights frameworks. These institutions emphasise checks and balances rather than divine authority. However, atheistic systems are not immune to abuse; when politicised, they can be hijacked by authoritarian ideologies, as seen in the 20th century under Stalin and Mao.

Conclusion: Why Atheism Is Most Relevant Today

India embodies all three great traditions—Hindu polytheism, Islamic and Christian monotheism, and a growing current of secular and atheist thought. Gandhi himself combined Hindu pluralism with monotheistic ethics to shape his philosophy of nonviolence, but the rise of sectarianism today shows how fragile pluralism becomes when intolerance grows. In contrast, Scandinavia offers a secular and largely atheist model where reason-based governance has built societies marked by equality, happiness, and prosperity. The Middle East, dominated by monotheism, shows the opposite: while faith can unite, its exclusiveness often fuels long conflicts. The 21st century’s global challenges—climate change, inequality, and technological disruption—demand cooperation that transcends religious boundaries. Polytheism is too localised, and monotheism too divisive, to unite humanity. Atheism, grounded in reason, evidence, and respect for human dignity, provides a universal foundation. Science and logic are languages everyone can share, and evidence-based governance can guide fair solutions to shared problems. Atheism does not reject culture or spirituality but replaces divine rivalries with human responsibility. It calls for an ethic centred on truth, compassion, and rational cooperation. In an interconnected world, the future of universal good rests not on gods but on humanity’s capacity for reason, empathy, and collective action.

Monotheism, polytheism, atheism, Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Sikhism, religion, caste, climate change, sectarianism, Middle East, secular, secularism, Stalin, Mao, democracy, churches, temples, mosques, universities, hospitals, India

The Decline of Indian Media: A Multifaceted Crisis

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In 2020, a case was filed in the United States against CISCO for caste discrimination. It made international headlines but was largely ignored by Indian media. That same year, the brutal gangrape and murder of a Dalit girl in Hathras saw the media initially trying to cover it up. In another case, a senior Dalit police officer in Haryana was driven to suicide after mistreatment by his upper-caste superiors, yet the incident received little attention. Across India, countless atrocities against Dalits, Muslims, and women take place, but they rarely spark serious discussion in the mainstream media.

Remember NDTV’s Big Fight Show in early 2000s? Despite its name, the host Vikram Chandra ensured that the debate maintained decorum and substance. Although, other news channels too adapted this template, things began to deteriorate when jingoism and political propaganda overwhelmed all journalistic sanity. Republic TV, Times Now, India Today etc hosted shouting matches where decorum and ethics had no place at all. The idea is to distract public attention from real issues facing them.

Interestingly, Aroon Purie, the founder and editor-in-chief of the India Today Group, recently stated that "99% of news channels lose money" and are often treated by industrial houses and billionaires as tools for influence. What else did Purie expect, when India Today itself is guilty of the same?

Senior editors provide lame excuses like political pressures, takeover by corporate bosses, and technological disruptions. But should these be the reasons for the prevalence of sycophantic tendencies, unethical practices, and  shameless compromises? Did they ever factor in the consequences like erosion of media’s credibility and public trust? India's ranking in the World Press Freedom Index has plummeted to 151 out of 180 countries in 2025. Since 2014, toxic interplay of internal and external pressures, violence against journalists, concentrated ownership, and political alignment have contributed to this dangerous state of affairs. But if there was collective resistance, things could have been different. If they crawled during the Emergency, they are licking the boots, and much else, of the powers that be today.

The once vibrant Fourth Estate has been reduced to a murky, repulsive private property. A pristine edifice of free speech and democracy  is showing all the signs of a seedy house of sin owned and run by powerful moneybags who have no stakes in the future of democracy in India.

Loss of Credibility: The Foundational Erosion

According to the Reuters Institute Digital News Report 2024, trust in news credibility in India dropped by nine points. This erosion stems from a shift away from objective reporting toward sensationalism, bias, and misinformation. A Lokniti-CSDS report titled 'Media in India: Trends and Patterns' found that 82% of media organisations blindly support the BJP out of fear of business repercussions. This figure rises to 89% when we include independent journalists' opinions. Such partisanship has transformed media from a watchdog to a lapdog. The Policy Circle states that lack of editorial oversight and Indian media's resort to partisanship and spectacle has resulted in the  deepening crisis of credibility.

We know how, during the 2025 India-Pakistan tensions, Indian TV channels amplified unverified claims of airstrikes and terror camps, using fake videos. This made a mockery of journalism. The New York Times highlighted how outlets suppress damaging news to the government's reputation, amplifying falsehoods during crises like border conflicts. This credibility loss is not isolated; it feeds into other factors, creating a vicious cycle. Moreover, trolling, fake news, and curbs on free speech by vested interests have alienated audiences.

Political Pressures Since 2014: The Shadow of Authoritarianism

The BJP’s rise in 2014 ushered in an era of intensified political pressures that have choked media’s independence. Reporters Without Borders (RSF) describes this as an "unofficial state of emergency," with the media bosses aligning with BJP to control narratives. One corporate house, aligned to BJP, controls over 70 outlets reaching 800 million people. Another BJP billionaire’s 2022 acquisition of NDTV ended one of the last bastions of pluralism. 

Colonial-era laws on sedition and defamation, alongside new legislation like the 2023 Telecommunications Act and the draft Broadcasting Services Bill, empower the government to censor content and control digital platforms. A Carnegie Endowment study notes how these tools repress social media moderation in India. Examples include the raids on BBC offices in 2023 after a documentary critical of the PM, and the 600-day incarceration of Kashmiri journalist Fahad Shah under anti-terror laws. Sedition cases shot up by 30% since 2014, as per a Berkley Center report. This political stranglehold intersects with financial woes, as government ads—worth billions—reward compliant outlets, as per RSF. In 2023, the Editors Guild of India faced charges of promoting enmity over a Manipur report, highlighting how even editorial bodies are targeted for critical work.

The Pivotal Role of Media Owners and Editors: Architects of Compromise

Media owners have turned their news outlets into extensions of their economic empires. The Media Ownership Monitor by RSF reveals that India's media is dominated by business families and investors. The ownership structures include joint stock companies, societies, and trusts that obscure true control. Two biggest corporate empires have acquired vast media portfolios, influencing content to align with their political and commercial agendas. For instance, corporate acquisition of the Network18 led to abrupt resignation of independent editors who resisted pro-government slants. This was documented in a Caravan magazine piece on the "slow disappearance of independent editors." Owners handpick pliant journalists, suppressing fearless reporting to avoid offending powerful allies. The migration of anchors from India Today to NDTV is a case in point.

After the takeover of NDTV in 2022, the channel was transformed from a critical voice to one more aligned with BJP narratives. The Stimson Centre's report on media bias highlights how government advertisements serve as a "financial lever" for influencing content. The owners direct editors to prioritise stories that secure ad revenue from state coffers. During the COVID-19 pandemic, editors at major Hindi channels downplayed government mishandling. They amplified misinformation about vaccines to align with official narratives.

The Rise of Internet-Based News Media: Disruption and Fragmentation

The proliferation of digital media has disrupted traditional channels, accelerating their decline. According to a 2024 Reuters report, over 70% of Indians rely on online sources for news, with 49% using social media. This shift has eroded traditional TV and print revenues, forcing closures or mergers. A study in the International Journal of Library and Information Practice notes a 20.81% cumulative increase in online news consumers from 2019 to 2022. 

Traditional outlets lose audiences to agile, cost-effective digital alternatives, which democratises journalism. Citizen journalists via blogs and OTT platforms have bypassed state monopolies and corporate owned entities. But they are unregulated, resulting in proliferation of fake news. Influencers conduct flattering interviews, with no accountability. For example, The Caravan reports on the Indian PM’s use of them to bolster his image. Online disinformation deteriorates discourse. Fragmentation worsens credibility, as traditional media resorts to sensationalism and succumbs to political pressures.

Sycophancy: The Culture of Flattery and Submission

Sycophancy permeates Indian media, particularly post-2014. Termed "Godi media", news outlets promote pro-BJP propaganda. According to the RSF, Hindi channels dedicate airtime to religious nationalism and anti-Muslim rhetoric. Examples include anchors hailing the PM as "King of Gods”. Thanks to competitive sycophancy among politicians, bureaucrats and corporate honchos a toxic environment has asphyxiated ethical journalism in the mainstream media. Of course, there are historical precedents from Indira Gandhi's era slogan "India is Indira”. However, today it has been institutionalised in a big way, eroding critical discourse. There is a distinct shift in the mainstream media towards "narrative-shaping" journalism. 

Unprofessional and Unethical Practices: Breaches That Betray Trust

Unethical practices, from paid news to media trials, compound the crisis. A Taylor & Francis study on media trials analyses ethical issues in cases like Siddiqui Kappan, where outlets prejudge guilt, compromising justice. The Tehelka sting "Operation West End" (2001) defended using prostitutes as ethical lapses for exposing corruption, but set precedents for sensationalism. The 2010 Radia Tapes scandal revealed top journalists crossing lines by lobbying for corporations.

The occurrence of unethical reporting on sexual violence has become commonplace. Such reporting prioritises sensationalism over truth. Government agencies can brazenly promote media trials. We witnessed that in the cases of Sushant Rajput, Aaryan Khan, and many others. Such acts raise human rights, privacy and fairness concerns. Such yellow journalism sacrifices truth for ratings, intersects with external factors like political coercion, as seen in Gujarat riots coverage fuelling communalism.

Conclusion: A Synergistic Downfall and Paths Forward

The Indian media's sorry state is a confluence of several factors. Political pressures since 2014 have concentrated ownership and enforced censorship; the roles of owners and editors have designed compromise through corporate and political entanglements; digital rise has fragmented audiences and amplified misinformation; sycophancy and unethical practices reflect internal rot; all culminating in lost credibility. Reform requires regulatory independence, ethical training, and diversified ownership. Without it, democracy suffers, as informed citizenship fades. Yet, outliers like Khabar Lahariya, The Wire, Article 14, Scroll.in, The Caravan, Economic and Political Weekly (EPW), Newslaundry, and regional stalwarts such as Malayala Manorama and Eenadu offer hope, proving resilient journalism can endure. The path to revival demands confronting this multifaceted crisis head-on.

Godi Media, NDTV, Republic TV, Aaj Tak, India Today, Reliance, Adani, Ambani, Times Now, Newslaundry, Article 14, The Wire, The Caravan, Economic and Political Weekly, Al Jazeera, The Print, Sctoll.in, Malayala Manorama, Eenadu, yellow journalism, Sushant Rajput, Aaryan Khan, Siddique Kappan, CNN18, BJP, Indira Gandhi, Emergency, Lokniti-CSDS, Reuters, RSF, Reporters Without Borders, Arnab Goswami, News-X

Peaceful Revolutions and Gandhian Philosophy

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The 20th century and early 21st century witnessed a series of transformative movements that reshaped political landscapes through non-violent means. India’s independence movement, the Philippines’ People Power Revolution of 1986, Ukraine’s Orange Revolution of 2004, Czechoslovakia’s Velvet Revolution of 1989, and Georgia’s Rose Revolution of 2003 stand as landmark examples of “peaceful” or “democratic” revolutions. These movements were distinct in their historical and cultural contexts. But they share a common thread. They resorted to nonviolent means to cause systemic changes. Central to this paradigm is the philosophy of Mahatma Gandhi, whose principles of non-violence (ahimsa) and civil disobedience (satyagraha) provided a blueprint for mass mobilisation without bloodshed.

India’s Independence Movement (1915–1947)

India’s struggle for independence from British colonial rule is a cornerstone of non-violent resistance. Under Mahatma Gandhi’s leadership, the Indian National Congress mobilised millions through campaigns like the Non-Cooperation Movement (1920–1922), the Salt March (1930), and the Quit India Movement (1942). His philosophy of satyagraha—truth and resistance—emphasised moral force over physical violence. By boycotting British goods, institutions, and laws, Indians exposed the economic and moral fragility of the colonial rule. The Salt March, for instance, was a symbolic act of defiance against the salt tax, which galvanised mass participation and global attention.

Gandhi’s approach was rooted in universal principles: non-violence, self-sacrifice, and the power of collective action. His strategies were deeply philosophical, aiming to transform both the oppressor and the oppressed. The movement’s success in 1947 demonstrated that non-violent resistance could dismantle an empire. This precedent inspired subsequent movements worldwide, establishing Gandhi as a global symbol of peaceful revolution.

The Philippines’ People Power Revolution (1986)

In February 1986, the Philippines underwent a dramatic transformation through the People Power Revolution. It ousted President Ferdinand Marcos after two decades of authoritarian rule. Triggered by a fraudulent election, the revolution saw millions of Filipinos gather in Manila’s Epifanio de los Santos Avenue (EDSA) to demand Marcos’s resignation. Led by figures like Corazon Aquino and supported by the Catholic Church, the movement relied on peaceful protests, prayer vigils, and human chains to block military advances.

The revolution’s non-violent character was evident in its imagery: nuns kneeling before tanks, civilians offering flowers to soldiers, and mass prayers. Within four days, Marcos fled, and Aquino assumed the presidency, restoring democracy. The movement’s success lay in its ability to unite diverse groups—students, clergy, and military defectors—through a shared commitment to peaceful change.

The People Power Revolution echoed Gandhian principles. The use of mass mobilisation, symbolic acts (e.g., prayer vigils), and moral pressure on the regime mirrored Gandhi’s strategies. The Catholic Church’s role, emphasising forgiveness and non-violence, paralleled Gandhi’s spiritual approach to resistance. However, the revolution was more spontaneous and less ideologically rigid than Gandhi’s meticulously planned campaigns.

Czechoslovakia’s Velvet Revolution (1989)

The Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia was a non-violent uprising that ended four decades of communist rule in November–December 1989. Sparked by the brutal suppression of a student protest in Prague, the movement grew into mass demonstrations, strikes, and public dialogues led by figures like Václav Havel and the Civic Forum. The revolution’s name reflects its peaceful nature, with protesters using flowers, candles, and theatre performances to challenge the regime’s legitimacy.

Havel’s concept of “living in truth” emphasised moral integrity and non-violent dissent, aligning with Gandhi’s satyagraha. Within weeks, the communist government collapsed, and Havel became president, marking a transition to democracy. The revolution’s success stemmed from its broad coalition—students, intellectuals, workers, and artists—and its refusal to engage in violence despite police repression.

Havel and other dissidents were familiar with global non-violent movements, including India’s independence struggle. The emphasis on moral resistance and public truth-telling echoed Gandhi’s belief in exposing injustice through peaceful means. The use of symbolic acts, such as placing flowers at protest sites, resembled Gandhi’s use of symbolism (e.g., the spinning wheel).

Ukraine’s Orange Revolution (2004)

The Orange Revolution in Ukraine was a response to electoral fraud in the 2004 presidential election, which favoured pro-Russian candidate Viktor Yanukovych. Led by Viktor Yushchenko and Yulia Tymoshenko, protesters occupied Kyiv’s Independence Square. They wore orange to symbolise their demand for a fair election. The movement combined mass protests, tent cities, and strikes with negotiations and international pressure. After weeks of peaceful demonstrations, the Supreme Court ordered a revote, leading to Yushchenko’s victory and a shift toward democratic governance.

The revolution’s non-violent strategy relied on public unity, media engagement, and international solidarity. Protesters used humour, music, and orange symbols to maintain morale and global attention. They avoided clashes with security forces.

Ukrainian activists were likely inspired by global non-violent movements, including those influenced by Gandhi, such as the U.S. Civil Rights Movement. The use of mass gatherings and symbolic colours (orange ribbons) paralleled Gandhi’s use of collective action and symbols like khadi.

Georgia’s Rose Revolution (2003)

Georgia’s Rose Revolution ousted President Eduard Shevardnadze in November 2003, following rigged parliamentary elections. Led by Mikheil Saakashvili and the Kmara youth movement, protesters stormed parliament with roses in hand, symbolising their commitment to non-violence. The movement combined street protests, media campaigns, and international support to force Shevardnadze’s resignation. This paved the way for democratic reforms. The revolution’s success lay in its disciplined non-violence and strategic use of symbols. Roses conveyed peace while challenging the regime’s authority. Kmara’s  non-violent tactics emphasised grassroots mobilisation and public pressure.

The Rose Revolution’s leaders were influenced by modern non-violent movements, particularly Otpor, which itself drew on Gene Sharp’s theories of non-violent resistance. Sharp’s work was heavily inspired by Gandhi. The use of roses as a symbol of peaceful defiance echoed Gandhi’s symbolic acts, and the emphasis on mass participation reflected his belief in collective power. However, the revolution’s tactics were more pragmatic and less spiritually driven than Gandhi’s, reflecting a blend of influences.

Comparative Analysis

Common Features

All five revolutions share key characteristics: mass participation, non-violent strategies, symbolic acts, and a focus on systemic change. India’s independence movement set a global precedent, using boycotts, marches, and civil disobedience to challenge colonial rule. The Philippines, Czechoslovakia, Ukraine, and Georgia adapted these principles, employing protests, symbols (flowers, candles, orange ribbons, roses), and moral pressure to undermine authoritarian regimes. Each movement leveraged public unity and international attention to achieve political transformation without bloodshed.

Differences

The revolutions differed in their contexts, leadership, and tactics. India’s movement was a prolonged struggle against colonial rule, spanning decades and rooted in Gandhi’s spiritual philosophy. The Philippines’ revolution was swift, driven by a specific electoral crisis and religious symbolism. Czechoslovakia’s Velvet Revolution was intellectual and theatrical, reflecting its dissident culture. Ukraine’s Orange Revolution combined grassroots protests with legal and international strategies, while Georgia’s Rose Revolution was youth-driven and influenced by modern non-violent training.

Outcomes

All revolutions achieved significant political change: India gained independence, the Philippines restored democracy, Czechoslovakia transitioned to a democratic republic, Ukraine secured a fair election, and Georgia ousted a corrupt regime. However, long-term outcomes varied. India faced partition and communal violence, the Philippines struggled with political instability, Czechoslovakia (later split into the Czech Republic and Slovakia) achieved stable democracy, Ukraine faced ongoing tensions with Russia, and Georgia’s reforms were partially undone by later conflicts. These variations highlight the complexity of sustaining revolutionary gains.

Gandhi’s Influence: Extent and Limitations

Gandhi’s philosophy of non-violence and civil disobedience undeniably shaped the global landscape of peaceful resistance. His success in India provided a model for mobilising masses without violence, inspiring movements across the world. The People Power Revolution, Velvet Revolution, Orange Revolution, and Rose Revolution all reflect elements of Gandhi’s approach, particularly in their use of mass protests, symbolic acts, and moral pressure.

However, the extent of Gandhi’s direct influence varies. In the Philippines, Catholic teachings and local traditions played a larger role, with Gandhi’s ideas serving as an indirect inspiration through global non-violent movements. In Czechoslovakia, Havel’s philosophy of “living in truth” aligned with Gandhi’s principles but was rooted in local dissident traditions. Ukraine and Georgia drew heavily on modern non-violent strategies, particularly from Serbia’s Otpor and Gene Sharp, who adapted Gandhi’s ideas to contemporary contexts.

Gandhi’s philosophy was deeply tied to India’s spiritual traditions, which did not always resonate in secular or Christian-majority contexts. Moreover, later revolutions benefited from modern tools—media, international NGOs, and training in non-violent tactics—that were unavailable in Gandhi’s time. Thus, while Gandhi’s ideas provided a foundational framework, each movement adapted them to its unique circumstances.

Conclusion

The peaceful revolutions of India, the Philippines, Czechoslovakia, Ukraine, and Georgia demonstrate the enduring power of non-violent resistance to effect political change. Gandhi’s philosophy of satyagraha and ahimsa provided a universal template, inspiring these movements to varying degrees. While India’s independence struggle was a direct product of Gandhi’s vision, the People Power, Velvet, Orange, and Rose Revolutions adapted his principles to their contexts, blending them with local traditions and modern strategies. The versatility of non-violent resistance and the nuanced legacy of Gandhi’s thought continues to inspire transformative movements worldwide.

Endnotes

1. Judith Brown, Gandhi: Prisoner of Hope (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989).
2. Bipan Chandra et al., India’s Struggle for Independence (New Delhi: Penguin, 1989).
3. Raymond Bonner, “The Philippine People Power Revolution,” The New York Times, 1986.
4. James Krapfl, Revolution with a Human Face: Politics, Culture, and Community in Czechoslovakia, 1989–1992(Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2013).
5. Lincoln A. Mitchell, Uncertain Democracy: U.S. Foreign Policy and Georgia’s Rose Revolution (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2008).
6. Taras Kuzio, Ukraine: Democratization, Corruption, and the New Russian Imperialism (Santa Barbara: Praeger, 2015).
7. Gene Sharp, From Dictatorship to Democracy (Boston: Albert Einstein Institution, 1993).
8. Václav Havel, Living in Truth (London: Faber & Faber, 1986).

Philippines’ People Power Revolution of 1986, Ukraine’s Orange Revolution of 2004, Czechoslovakia’s Velvet Revolution of 1989, Georgia’s Rose Revolution of 2003, India’s Independence Movement (1915–1947), boycotts, marches, civil disobedience, nonviolence, civil disobedience, Ferdinand Marcos , Ferdinand Marcos, Corazon Aquino, Mikheil Saakashvili, Kmara youth movement, Shevardnadze, Viktor Yushchenko , Yulia Tymoshenko, Viktor Yanukovych, Prague, Václav Havel, Civic Forum,