In today’s political climate, symbolism often overshadows substance. In
India, few symbols have captured the public imagination more starkly than the
metaphor of the “56-inch chest.” Once uttered to convey strength, resolve, and
nationalistic pride, it has since become the emblem of a political era defined
by hyper-masculinity and performative governance. But a closer look reveals an
unsettling paradox: this display of muscular nationalism is not fortifying
India’s democracy—it’s hollowing it out from within.
The "strongman" image has long been a tool in global politics,
from Vladimir Putin's shirtless horseback photos to Donald Trump’s bluster. In
India, it has evolved into a strategic political narrative where strength is
equated with authoritarian control, emotional nationalism, and a disdain for
dissent. The result is a version of leadership that substitutes depth with
drama, and courage with chest-thumping—an illusion of power, rather than its
responsible exercise.
What’s at stake isn’t just optics; it’s the health of India’s democracy.
The Cult of the Individual Over the Constitution
Democracies are built not on personalities, but on institutions. The power
of a democratic system lies in the separation of powers, the checks and
balances between branches of government, and the autonomy of institutions that
are meant to safeguard the rights of citizens. But strongman politics disrupts
this balance. It redirects attention and authority away from institutional
frameworks and toward a single individual portrayed as the savior of the
nation.
This over-centralization of power is visible in how India’s key
institutions have increasingly bent to the will of the executive. Judicial
appointments have raised concerns about independence, media organizations
frequently self-censor or toe the government line, and even election oversight
bodies have faced accusations of bias. The erosion is subtle, but constant.
Over time, institutions that once served the Constitution begin serving the
image of a leader—and that shift is devastating to democratic integrity.
A leader with real democratic backbone empowers institutions, encourages
decentralization, and values institutional memory and continuity over personal
credit. Instead, we see power consolidated, bureaucracies politicized, and a
narrative where critique is seen as betrayal rather than civic responsibility.
Dissent as a Threat
The most damning characteristic of strongman politics is its allergy to
dissent. Democracies thrive on disagreement. Diverse opinions, lively debates,
and the right to question authority are not flaws—they are the system working
as intended. But when criticism is equated with sedition, and disagreement is
labeled “anti-national,” the room for democratic dialogue shrinks dramatically.
Over the past few years, we’ve witnessed journalists jailed for doing their
jobs, students arrested for expressing political views, and activists silenced
under vague or outdated legal provisions. Protest movements, from anti-CAA
demonstrations to farmers’ agitations, have been met not with engagement, but
with force, propaganda, and vilification. The language of nationalism has been
weaponized—not to unite, but to silence.
This dangerous equation—where loyalty to a party or leader is conflated
with loyalty to the nation—undermines the very freedoms a democracy promises.
Dissent isn’t dangerous; suppressing it is.
Majoritarianism Wearing the Mask of Democracy
At the heart of democracy lies representation. Every citizen, regardless of
religion, caste, gender, or region, must feel seen, heard, and protected. Yet,
the strongman model thrives not on inclusivity, but on division. It courts the
majority while subtly (and sometimes overtly) demonizing minorities and
marginalized groups.
Policies are framed in the language of security and tradition, but their
impact often disproportionately affects communities that already face systemic
disadvantages. Whether it’s through the restructuring of citizenship laws, the
criminalization of interfaith marriages, or the silence around hate crimes and
mob violence, the message is clear: democracy is being reshaped to serve the
few, not the many.
This brand of nationalism pretends to protect cultural values but instead
weaponizes identity to manufacture political consensus. It offers unity through
exclusion—and in doing so, chips away at the pluralism that has long been
India’s strength.
The Smokescreen of Emotional Nationalism
Strongman politics thrives on spectacle. It feeds on emotional nationalism,
turning elections into theatres of passion rather than spaces for reasoned
deliberation. Rallies are filled with slogans, not policy. News cycles revolve
around symbolic gestures, not governance metrics.
Meanwhile, critical issues—rising unemployment, rural distress, inflation,
a struggling education system, and a fragile healthcare infrastructure—are
sidelined or spun through nationalist narratives. The opposition is mocked or
dismissed rather than debated. Media coverage focuses more on optics—what the
leader wore, where they traveled, who they greeted—than on outcomes and
performance.
It’s governance by distraction. And the costs are real. In a country with
the world’s largest youth population, real strength would mean equipping them
with opportunities, not empty rhetoric.
Where Is the Strength When It’s Needed Most?
Perhaps nowhere is the gap between posturing and performance more obvious
than in matters of national security. While fiery speeches and aggressive
slogans are common in domestic political rallies, they often vanish when
confronting real external threats.
Take, for instance, the troubling developments along India’s northeastern
border. As reported by The Tribune (Jan 2023) and The New York Times
(Dec 2022), China has built nearly 90 villages in disputed
areas near Arunachal Pradesh—an encroachment with massive geopolitical
implications. Yet the government’s response has been one of near-total silence.
No parliamentary debate. No public strategy. No accountability.
While drums of patriotism beat at home, key foreign policy questions go
unanswered. The strongman’s silence in the face of such challenges is not a
sign of strategic restraint—it’s a failure to act with the transparency and
urgency that democratic governance demands.
Where is the “56-inch chest” when every inch of Indian land is under
threat?
What India Truly Needs
It’s time to move past theatrics and ask: what kind of leadership does
India truly need?
India needs a leader who understands that real strength lies not in
dominating opposition, but in listening to it. A leader who sees institutions
as pillars of democracy, not as personal tools. A leader who does not stoke
identity-based divisions to win votes, but brings communities together with a
shared vision.
Most importantly, India needs a leader who rises above party lines and
beyond communal politics—a leader who governs with empathy, strategy, and
courage rooted in constitutional values rather than charisma.
This kind of leadership doesn’t require a metaphorical chest size. It
requires a backbone.
Conclusion: The Illusion of Strength Is Not
Strength
The allure of strongman politics lies in its simplicity. It offers
certainty in uncertain times, heroes instead of complexity, slogans instead of
policy. But democracy is not meant to be simple. It is messy, noisy, and
participatory. And that’s what makes it beautiful—and powerful.
Democracy doesn’t demand blind loyalty; it demands critical thinking. It
doesn’t ask for theatrical strength; it asks for moral and institutional
courage. It doesn’t want silence in the face of aggression—it needs truth, action,
and leadership that’s rooted in principle.
The illusion of the strongman may win elections. But it cannot build a
future.
India must decide: do we want a democracy built on bravado, or one built on
backbone?
Siddhartha Mishra
(The author is an advocate at Supreme Court of India )
Email : - ssmishra33@gmail.com
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