1. Introduction: When Music Meets Power

In Assam, art has always been political — from Bhupen Hazarika’s revolutionary ballads to the protest rhythms of Zubeen Garg.

But with Zubeen’s sudden death, the boundary between culture and politics has blurred beyond recognition.

What began as an emotional tragedy has morphed into a political confrontation between the ruling BJP under Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma and a resurgent opposition hungry for moral ammunition.

At stake is not merely the legacy of a beloved artist — it is the narrative control of Assam’s cultural conscience.

2. The Core Issue: The NE Festival and the Corruption Allegations

The controversy began with questions surrounding the Northeast Festival, an event sponsored and heavily promoted by the Assam government.

Zubeen Garg, long the face of Assamese culture, had lent his name and voice to the festival’s campaigns.

After his death, whispers turned into headlines:

Event budgets allegedly inflated and contracts routed through politically connected intermediaries.

A handful of cultural entrepreneurs accused of functioning as “fixers of art,” blending politics, business, and culture.

Zubeen’s role re-evaluated — not as a beneficiary, but as a symbolic shield for questionable patronage.

While no official inquiry has yet proven wrongdoing, the controversy snowballed into a referendum on governance ethics in the Himanta Biswa Sarma era.

3. The Government’s Counter-Narrative: Containment and Co-option

For the BJP and its charismatic chief minister, this is a sensitive moment.

Sarma has long cultivated an image of efficiency and incorruptibility — the archetype of the “CEO CM.”

Yet Zubeen’s case hits his administration at two symbolic points: morality and emotion.

To contain damage, the government has pursued a dual strategy:

1. Discredit the allegations as politically motivated, branding them as opposition theatrics.

2. Reclaim Zubeen’s image as part of the government’s Assamese-cultural nationalism — portraying him as a patriot who shared the regime’s vision of a confident, united Northeast.

Publicly, Himanta emphasized his “personal affection” for Zubeen, calling him “a friend, a brother, a son of Assam.”

Privately, officials intensified media outreach, shifting focus to Zubeen’s contributions rather than controversies.

The aim: neutralize grief, absorb emotion, and redirect memory.

4. The Opposition’s Offensive: From Mourning to Mobilization

Sensing a vulnerability, the opposition — led by the Congress and regional outfits like Raijor Dal — moved quickly.

They framed the issue as one of moral accountability, asking pointed questions:

Who funded the festival and how were contracts awarded?

Why no transparency in audit and oversight?

Was Zubeen’s fame used to mask state-level corruption?

The opposition organized vigils, rallies, and digital campaigns demanding an independent inquiry.

For them, Zubeen’s death symbolizes the larger decay of governance under a power-centric administration.

He is being recast as the conscience of the Assamese public — a man who spoke out, and whose silence in death demands answers.

This framing gives the opposition something it has lacked for years: a common emotional cause that cuts across caste, ethnicity, and party lines.

5. The Media Echo Chamber

Assam’s media ecosystem — from Guwahati’s satellite channels to village-level digital blogs — has amplified the controversy.

Mainstream TV channels sympathetic to the government have highlighted Zubeen’s earlier praise of Himanta, suggesting a “personal, not political” relationship.

Independent portals like Inside NE and NorthEast Chronicle have run exposes on event financing, quoting insiders who hint at patronage politics.

Social media has become the most powerful amplifier:

Hashtags like #JusticeForZubeen and #CorruptionBehindCulture trend daily.

Fans remix his lyrics into protest slogans.

University students and artists circulate open letters calling for “truth, not tribute.”

The result: a parallel trial by public sentiment, one that the government can neither suppress nor fully steer.

6. The Symbolic Battle: Who Owns Zubeen?

Beyond the paperwork and allegations, the real struggle is symbolic.

For the BJP, owning Zubeen’s image means safeguarding its monopoly over Assamese identity politics — an identity framed around cultural revival and pride.

For the opposition, liberating Zubeen’s memory from state control becomes a moral act — reclaiming culture from bureaucracy and propaganda.

Every party, consciously or otherwise, is now composing its own version of Zubeen’s legacy.

His songs have become ideological templates: some hear in them devotion to Assam; others hear dissent against power.

This is political semiotics in motion — the transformation of melody into message.

7. The Stakes: What It Means for 2026

The 2026 Assembly election will test whether sentiment can translate into votes.

Zubeen’s case introduces three fault lines into Assam’s pre-poll atmosphere:

1. Governance and Corruption: the BJP’s image of efficiency faces its strongest emotional challenge yet.

2. Cultural Ownership: Assamese nationalism may shift from state-sponsored to people-driven narratives.

3. Generational Politics: youth disillusionment could destabilize both established party hierarchies.

In short, the politics of grief may redefine the politics of power.

8. The Politics Beneath the Music

Zubeen Garg’s death has unmasked the paradox of modern Assamese politics — a state that celebrates its artists but commodifies their voices.

His memory has become a mirror reflecting both the aspirations and anxieties of Assam:

The yearning for authenticity amid propaganda.

The demand for honesty amid spectacle.

The search for moral clarity amid political noise.

As Assam moves closer to 2026, Zubeen’s unfinished song lingers — half elegy, half election anthem — echoing across a landscape where every note now carries political meaning.