
advertisement
The recent electoral results in Bihar have delivered a crushing blow to Tejashwi Yadav and the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD), raising fundamental questions about the young leader's political future. With the Mahagathbandhan (MGB) suffering a devastating defeat and the RJD's tally plummeting to historic lows, Tejashwi finds himself at the most critical juncture of his political career. The path ahead appears treacherous, though not entirely without hope.
The numbers tell a brutal story. The RJD has been reduced to just 25 seats, representing a strike rate of merely 17.5 percent and marking a catastrophic decline to one-third of its 2020 performance of 75 seats. This regression takes the party back to its 2010 levels, a nadir many thought would never be revisited. More alarmingly, the strength of the Bharatiya Janata Part (BJP) (and Janata Dal (United) (JD(U)) standalone is now more than double that of the RJD, fundamentally altering Bihar's political landscape.
For Tejashwi Yadav, who positioned himself as the captain of the MGB alliance, this defeat is particularly damaging. Leadership is often measured by results, and these results raise uncomfortable questions about his strategic acumen and electoral appeal.
Tej Pratap Yadav and some of his sisters may intensify their dig at the younger brother and his right hand man Sanjay Yadav, who is a bahari (outsider) from Haryana.
In the aftermath of such a decisive defeat, the knives are likely to come out. Political parties, particularly those with strong family legacies, often descend into recrimination following electoral setbacks. Reports of differences within the Yadav family, which were suppressed during the campaign, may now surface with renewed intensity. Various factions, especially the old guard within the RJD will inevitably question Tejashwi's leadership credentials, his campaign strategy, and his ability to carry forward Lalu Prasad Yadav's political legacy.
The challenge is existential. Can Tejashwi recover from consecutive defeats? Political history suggests that repeated electoral failures often prove terminal for emerging leaders. The party faithful and cadres need to believe in their leader's ability to win, and two successive setbacks severely undermine that confidence.
Several strategic missteps contributed to this debacle. Most crucially, Tejashwi failed to address the structural bottlenecks that have long plagued the RJD. The party's social base remains narrowly confined to the Muslim-Yadav (MY) coalition, and despite the urgency, Tejashwi has been unable to expand beyond this traditional support structure. Broadening the social base to include other backward classes, Dalits, and even upper castes is essential for any party aspiring to govern Bihar.
The campaign itself revealed serious flaws in political judgment. Tejashwi hit the road relatively late and appeared to be merely reacting to issues raised by newbie Prashant Kishor. While unemployment was the natural issue for him to champion, he pivoted to the "vote chori" narrative following Rahul Gandhi's lead, displaying a lack of independent political thinking. This reactive approach, rather than proactive agenda-setting, suggested a leader still finding his footing rather than one confidently steering his party's destiny.
Perhaps Tejashwi's most intractable challenge is the dual-edged sword of Lalu Prasad Yadav's legacy. On one hand, the RJD's 25 percent base vote—constituting roughly 75 percent of the Muslim-Yadav population (32 percent)—comes primarily due to Lalu's enduring appeal, not Tejashwi's own political capital. This is fundamentally Lalu's vote bank, not his son's.
On the other hand, Lalu's legacy also means carrying the stigma of the "Jungle Raj" era and widespread corruption allegations. Tejashwi's attempts to distance himself from this baggage, including removing Lalu from campaign materials, proved ineffective. The association remains sticky in voters' minds, particularly among those who lived through the 1990s. The party's symbol—the lantern—while historically significant, increasingly appears anachronistic and lacks the modern, progressive imagery that might attract younger, urban voters.
More worrying than the overall defeat is the erosion within the RJD's core support base. The party has begun losing even its traditional Muslim-Yadav voters. Muslims, who form a crucial pillar of the RJD's electoral coalition, are reportedly angry about inadequate representation in ticket distribution and are veering toward alternatives like the AIMIM in Seemanchal winning 5 seats. Meanwhile, the excessive Yadavisation of the party has alienated other communities and reinforced perceptions of it being a family fiefdom rather than a democratic political organisation.
This internal hollowing is more dangerous than external opposition. When a party begins losing its committed base, recovery becomes exponentially more difficult. The RJD urgently needs to democratise its structures and provide adequate representation to all caste groups, but such transformations require strong, visionary leadership—precisely what is currently under question.
Despite these formidable challenges, Tejashwi's future is not entirely bleak. Bihar's political landscape will inevitably change in the post-Nitish Kumar era, creating a leadership vacuum that an ambitious, young leader could potentially fill. At 35, Tejashwi has time on his side—something rare in Indian politics where many leaders continue well into their seventies and eighties.
He needs to shed the image of being merely a product of dynastic succession and establish himself as a leader with his own vision and political identity. This means making tough decisions about party democratisation, even if it means diluting family control. It means crafting a positive, forward-looking agenda rather than simply opposing the incumbents.
The road ahead for Tejashwi Yadav is undeniably tough. He faces internal dissent, a demoralised cadre, a fragmenting support base, and resurgent opponents. The structural problems that contributed to this defeat—narrow social base, corruption stigma, family control—cannot be wished away and require fundamental reforms.
Whether his future proves bright or bleak depends entirely on his response to this crisis. Political comebacks are possible but require courage, introspection, and transformation. Tejashwi must decide whether he wants to be merely a caretaker of Lalu's legacy or forge his own path as a modern, inclusive leader capable of meeting Bihar's aspirations. The answer to that question will determine not just his political future but also the fate of one of Bihar's most significant political formations. He will also face competition from Chirag Paswan and Prashant Kishor.
(Amitabh Tiwari is an independent political commentator and can be reached at @politicalbaaba on X.This is an opinion piece and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for the same.)