In an age when political discourse permeates nearly every aspect of daily life, genuine political leadership has become one of the scarcest resources across much of the world. Yet a stubborn myth persists—that the mere assumption of power automatically bestows the right, wisdom, or capacity to lead. This fallacy continues to shape our nation, often at the expense of substance, service, and vision.

In Enlightened Leadership, chronicling Bhutan’s inspiring transition from monarchy to democracy, the country’s current Prime Minister, Tshering Tobgay, recalls a defining moment from the 2008 coronation address of the fifth and present King of Bhutan, His Majesty Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck. Laying down the ethical foundations of his reign, the King declared:

“Throughout my reign I will never rule you as a King. I will protect you as a parent, care for you as a brother and serve you as a son. I shall give you everything and keep nothing; I shall live such a life as a good human being that you may find it worthy to serve as an example for your children. I have no personal goals other than to fulfil your hopes and aspirations. I shall always serve you, day and night, in the spirit of kindness, justice and equality.” 

The king’s words, most would agree, offer a succinct—almost poetical—summation of how leadership ought to serve the people.

As one navigates the Indian political landscape, the question inevitably arises: how many political leaders truly subscribe to such ideals articulated by the Bhutanese monarch? In principle, most readily profess allegiance to these values; in inner conviction and lived practice, far fewer do. Nothing silences a debate of this nature more swiftly than the reflexive act of slapping an ideological label on those who merely articulate inconvenient truths to the political leadership.

Needed A Caring Leadership 

But the brutal reality is this: sketching a grand vision is easy; translating it into action is far harder. Given the nature, scale, and urgency of the grave challenges confronting our country, we are in need of leadership that is committed to a culture of collaboration, openness, empowerment, and care.

It may be argued that invoking the Bhutanese king’s principled stance as a reference point for a country as vast and diverse as India is deeply flawed—or, at best, a theoretical abstraction. Yet the fact remains: the ethos of good governance knows no geographical boundaries. If the highest leadership of a small, landlocked nation with limited resources could believe in, and strive towards, such ideals, why should our country fall short of visionary leadership, especially when it is far larger and endowed with greater capacities, opportunities, and strategic advantages? For precisely this reason, our nation requires transformative political leadership capable of harnessing these distinctive strengths to their fullest potential.

At a time when political trust is plummeting and truth is harder to find, the period from 2026 to 2029 will see a series of assembly elections in Assam, Kerala, Tamil Nadu, West Bengal, and several other states, culminating in the much-anticipated General Elections of 2029. These elections offer a rare opportunity to transform the country’s political discourse. Political parties—the crucial link between citizens and government—have so far prioritised winnability alone, for reasons obvious in a democracy, while giving scant regard to what is equally obvious—if not more vital—political credibility. Since the quality of the legislature is crucial to a healthy political culture, the larger question is whether parties will have the courage to deny tickets to unscrupulous candidates, however electable they may appear, and instead field those who embody integrity and bring fresh perspectives to public life.

As for the electorate—including even staunch party loyalists—it is time to move beyond settling for the “least bad” option. With the alternative of ‘None of the Above’ (NOTA) having failed to make any meaningful impact on electoral outcomes, a crucial reflection comes to the fore: are we, as common citizens, too complicit in an ailing electoral politics, jealously guarded by political parties?

Designing and adopting an electoral system is an inherently political exercise—complex, contentious, and politically risky. The key question, therefore, beyond mere moments of sound and fury, is whether parties of all hues can come together, mustering enough political will to bring about necessary and effective changes to correct systemic flaws and restore accountability. Yet skepticism is warranted, for our political leadership—knowingly or otherwise—appears to subscribe to what Hammergren once observed. He described political will as “the slipperiest concept in the policy lexicon,” calling it “the sine qua non of policy success which is never defined except by its absence.”

The unambiguous trend thus far has been this: in every election, political parties win, but the people lose. They lose to enduring afflictions—deep-rooted corruption, the many shades of the criminalisation of politics, and entrenched socio-economic inequalities. Since election manifestos are not legally enforceable, parties find it easy to make lofty promises—declaring policies and programmes to address critical issues and recycling oft-repeated pledges, from probity and inclusive development to good governance. Yet once the ballots are counted and an elected government assumes office, the old pathologies swiftly reassert themselves: abuse of power, mediocrity, cronyism, and appeasement, often repackaged in newer forms, designs, and stratagems. A telling irony is that the same political party, when in power, proclaims democracy triumphant; when in opposition, declares it imperiled.

Five Distinct Legacies

All in all, the country’s political landscape is characterised by five distinct legacies.

Posturing: The politics of spectacle is showy, unserious, emotive, and bereft of ideas or higher purpose. We have been conditioned to accept this performative dimension of politics as normal—indeed, even inevitable. Politicians, by and large, are consummate performers: quick to read the room, adept at playing the part, and ever ready to switch scripts to suit the audience before them. After all, they cannot get elected unless they present themselves in ways voters find acceptable and convincing—so much so that the line between moral and immoral becomes increasingly blurred.

Populism: There is little denying that populism rests on a remarkably thin ideological foundation, cutting across political lines. The real question, therefore, is not whether populism exists—it plainly does—but how its growing dominance shapes a country, for better or for worse. When populism becomes narrowly vote-box–centric, pursued at the expense of long-term development and fiscal sustainability, it ceases to act as a democratic corrective and turns distinctly corrosive. The unchecked proliferation of electoral freebies—short-sighted by design and ill-suited to sustained, broad-based development—has thus emerged as a favoured instrument across political stripes, aimed less at responsible governance than at harvesting immediate electoral dividends.

Polarisation: Polarisation, a time-tested political tool, pushes people towards ideological extremes, steadily cultivating distrust and dislike of the “other side.” We have reached a point where it feels almost unimaginable to disagree politically with our neighbours and still trust them enough to turn to them for help. When political division corrodes social trust, democracy is weakened at its very roots.

Personalism: Over the years, individual-centric political leadership has gained prominence, driven by charismatic figures whose personal whims and preferences often override the principles of intraparty democracy. No party is entirely immune to this syndrome—from regional outfits to national parties—and the danger intensifies when charisma is mistaken for unquestioned loyalty.

Phantom: Two typical symptoms of phantom politics, leading to baleful consequences, are opaque systems of political funding and phantom campaigns. Parties carry out both shorn of any pretence of due process. The influence of money in elections—though no longer unknown—is often rooted in murky financial architectures and clandestine political nexuses. Equally concerning is a gullible electorate, frequently deceived by politicians through half-truths, emotional appeals, and false promises. Leaders advancing a phantom campaign also inject a sense of nonexistent ‘threat.’ Once these fictitious dangers are implanted in the public mind, parties exploit them to attack opponents—attributing these threats to their rivals, with social media serving as the great facilitator and amplifier.

People Must Uphold Democratic Values

As members of the world’s largest democracy, we all carry a responsibility—to uphold and advance democratic values. Yet all too often, we have fallen short, outsourcing the task of democratic renewal to governments, political parties, or the system itself. It is far easier to cast ourselves as victims of political culture than to confront our own role in sustaining—or transforming—it.

It is time we ask ourselves—now, not later—“Politics, yes; not Pretension.” This calls for leadership that is genuinely organic—rooted in a deep cultural and ethical spine, shaping not merely governance but the very practice of responsible citizenship—while firmly rejecting those who thrive on style, spectacle, or empty gestures devoid of principle.

 That said, despite significant progress in service delivery and development programmes, the country’s democracy—though marked by a growing loss of confidence that borders on despair—retains deep resilience and innumerable strengths, and can yet regain its footing. The future can still be shaped, and the common good secured.

In an era where misinformation and disinformation—from headlines to hashtags—can distort reality at alarming speed, a strong political culture is not merely desirable; it is imperative. Amid troubling signs of democratic backsliding, yet also moments of heartening pro-democratic momentum, is it too much to expect this of the world’s largest democracy and a major global economic and political player?

(The author is former Deputy General Manager, India International Centre, Delhi; former General Manager, International Centre Goa; and author of Whispers of an Ordinary Journey. Views expressed are personal. He can be contacted at db.bhattacharyya@gmail.com)