The Fragile Throne: Bihar’s Ballot and the Battle for Control

The countdown to the Bihar Assembly election has set the political landscape ablaze. Once again, Bihar finds itself at the intersection of ambition, anxiety, and uncertainty. The ruling National Democratic Alliance (NDA), led by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and Janata Dal (United), is struggling to hold its ground as internal rifts spill into public view. For Chief Minister Nitish Kumar, this is not merely another election—it is a fight for political survival. The seat-sharing dispute has not only bruised the alliance’s image but also exposed the fragile equilibrium that keeps it alive.

Nitish Kumar’s discontent over the 101–101 seat-sharing formula is more than just arithmetic. According to National Herald, nearly half the constituencies allotted to JD(U) lie in regions where the party’s organisational strength is minimal, raising questions over whether this was a calculated move by the BJP to curb Nitish’s bargaining power post-polls. His outburst against party leader Sanjay Jha, followed by growing silence within the JD(U) camp, mirrors the tensions simmering beneath the surface. Political observers note that Nitish’s discomfort is not new—it is a continuation of his long battle to assert independence within alliances that seek to subsume him.

Nitish Kumar’s journey, from being hailed as Sushasan Babu to being seen as a reluctant ally, tells a story of political compulsion. Despite a history of switching alliances, he remains indispensable to Bihar’s power structure. “Nitish is like a pivot—he doesn’t tilt too much to either side, but every side depends on his movement,” says veteran political commentator Ajay Kumar. “That is why both BJP and the opposition keep their doors open, even when they criticise him publicly.”

But this election feels different. The BJP, emboldened by its national presence, appears keen on scripting a post-Nitish era in Bihar. The party’s local leadership has been quietly building its base, projecting younger leaders, and emphasising a more centralised model of governance. However, its ambition collides with reality. Bihar’s caste matrix, regional loyalties, and Nitish’s personal credibility among older voters make it difficult to sideline him abruptly. The BJP knows that if Nitish withdraws support, the entire alliance structure could crumble, erasing years of political investment. “Bihar is not Uttar Pradesh,” explains journalist Abhay Dubey. “The BJP cannot rely on a single religious or caste narrative here. It needs Nitish’s network and his image of moderation to balance the equation.”

On the other side, the opposition Mahagathbandhan, led by Tejashwi Yadav, smells an opportunity. The alliance has been quick to exploit the NDA’s internal rifts. Tejashwi’s rhetoric has shifted from caste-centric mobilisation to governance-based criticism, focusing on unemployment and education. He recently quipped, “The NDA is fighting over seats because they’ve already lost people’s trust.” His statement reflects a calculated attempt to project himself as the voice of the young and the restless. Yet, the opposition’s path is not smooth. The Congress’s indecisiveness, the Left parties’ limited reach, and Tejashwi’s own leadership inconsistencies leave gaps in the anti-NDA front. Still, in a state where even a 2–3% swing can alter the entire arithmetic, the Mahagathbandhan’s quiet consolidation could make the contest dangerously unpredictable.

Beyond seat counts and slogans, Bihar’s election mirrors a deeper crisis in India’s federal politics. Nitish Kumar’s predicament symbolises the erosion of regional autonomy and the rise of political centralisation. “The BJP’s strategy across states is to make regional leaders dependent, not dominant,” argues political analyst Pramod Dubey. “In Bihar, this centralisation clashes with the state’s political culture, which historically values local control and coalition consensus.” Nitish, once celebrated for his administrative clarity and social engineering, now appears trapped in a web of compromises. His image as a reformist has faded into one of survivalist pragmatism. The repeated exits and returns—from NDA to Mahagathbandhan and back—have blurred the ideological boundaries that once defined him. Even within his party, voices of dissent are rising. A senior JD(U) functionary, speaking on condition of anonymity, told Hindustan Times, “The question is no longer about seats—it’s about dignity. Our workers are confused about who we really are.”

For the BJP, the challenge is to preserve dominance without appearing coercive. The party’s attempts to balance national ambition with state sensitivities have often backfired, as seen in Maharashtra and Punjab. Bihar, with its complex caste geography, offers no easy template. If Nitish feels cornered, another political realignment cannot be ruled out—a possibility that haunts the BJP’s top strategists. Meanwhile, the media has once again reduced Bihar’s election to a power-play narrative. The relentless coverage of Nitish’s mood swings and the BJP’s tactical manoeuvres has overshadowed core issues—education, healthcare, and migration. In 2024 alone, more than six lakh Biharis reportedly migrated to other states for work. Yet, these statistics barely make headlines. “The real Bihar is not being debated,” says senior journalist Ravish Kumar. “The election is treated like a wrestling match, not a referendum on governance.”

That distortion, Ravish argues, serves both the ruling coalition and the opposition—it allows them to avoid uncomfortable questions about poverty, agricultural stagnation, and youth frustration. Bihar, despite its resilient electorate, remains caught between the politics of perception and the politics of performance. As the campaign intensifies, Nitish’s every move will be watched. His alliance partners fear rebellion; his opponents hope for it. But if Bihar’s history offers any clue, it is that the state has often defied predictable patterns. In 2015, when pundits had written off Nitish, he returned triumphantly with the Mahagathbandhan. In 2020, when he seemed secure, his seat tally plunged dramatically. The pendulum swings unpredictably—but always purposefully.

Political analyst Sanjay Kumar of CSDS sums it up succinctly: “Bihar’s voter is emotional, not impulsive. He forgives, but he never forgets.” That wisdom should unsettle both camps. For Nitish Kumar, this election could determine not just his future but the very survival of the politics of balance he once mastered. The fragile throne on which he sits is more than symbolic—it represents the uncertain state of Indian coalition politics. Whether it endures or collapses will reveal if Bihar remains a laboratory of democratic resilience—or becomes another casualty of the age of centralisation.