FLAWED, YET TRUSTED: THE NITISH PARADOX

PEOPLE don’t know much about Nitish Kumar, though he has been one of India’s tallest political figures for nearly two decades.

- VVP SHARMA

Even after 18 years as chief minister, he remains a cipher—his aces held close to the chest, his moods tightly reined in, his mind rarely legible to the public. There are no reams of anecdotal literature about his likes, dislikes, whims, or temper. There is only a distant outline: a quiet strategist, but a direct communicator with the masses, a man who has attracted far more brickbats than bouquets and yet—paradoxically—earned the epithet “Paltu Ram” for switching alliances with unnerving frequency.

Back in the 1980s, Nitish was a younger version of this same man: sober, sombre, unflappable. Neither worry nor elation creased his face. He listened more than he spoke. He was exacting, scrupulous. In personality, he was the opposite of his socialist comrade Lalu Prasad. If Lalu was the generalissimo, Nitish was the strategist in the backroom. It was a rhythm that worked: together, and eventually apart, they climbed the political ladder.

Yet when Bihar headed into the 2025 polls, Nitish’s reputation as a serial switcher dogged him to an extent. But that was only one side of the story. In Bihar, people are convinced he is not personally corrupt. His asset disclosures have helped that perception. And despite the opportunism tag, there is still trust—a trust that ultimately delivered for him and the NDA on November 14.

Nitish has been something of a political loner for most of his life, partly by circumstance. In youth, Lalu stole the limelight. In the Mandal era, Lalu’s caste did. Nitish had to start from scratch to be heard as a Kurmi leader—a label he personally disliked. He was comfortable being seen as a backward-class leader; he rejected being boxed into a caste silo.