R.V. Deshpande’s Desperate Relevance: Loyalty Or Self-Preservation?

For over four decades, R.V. Deshpande has been a fixture in Karnataka’s corridors of power. As a nine-time MLA and former minister across multiple regimes — Congress, Janata Dal, and coalition dispensations — Deshpande has built a political career not merely on electoral victories but on his ability to stay indispensable, regardless of who helmed the state.

But 2023 marked a rare moment of political drought for the 78-year-old Haliyal legislator. Denied a ministerial berth in Chief Minister Siddaramaiah’s second term, spurned the Speaker’s post when offered, and now left with a largely ornamental role as Chairman of the Karnataka Administrative Reforms Commission, Deshpande has found himself a fish out of water, cut off from the executive power he so long enjoyed.

And the signs of desperation are showing.

In recent weeks, Deshpande has gone on public record repeatedly declaring that Siddaramaiah will complete the full five-year term, despite growing whispers within the party of a leadership challenge from Deputy Chief Minister D.K. Shivakumar. What’s notable is not just the substance of his claims — which have no official sanction from the Congress high command — but the eagerness and frequency with which he sings praises of the CM, almost like a man trying to prove his loyalty in return for rehabilitation.

The question is: Why this sudden devotion?

The answer may lie not in ideology or admiration, but in realpolitik and self-preservation. Over the decades, Deshpande has amassed considerable assets — estimated at well over ₹1,500 crore — much of it during his multiple stints as Industries, Revenue, and Tourism minister.  

In fact, it is no secret that Deshpande has crossed party lines when necessary to retain his ministerial relevance. While he projects the image of a development-minded leader, his deeper motivations have always included safeguarding his interests — land, contracts, industry dealings, and political fiefdoms in Uttara Kannada. Without ministerial power, and out of the government’s core inner circle, those protections could rapidly dissolve.

Hence the need to remain visible. Hence the need to publicly affirm Siddaramaiah’s continuation, even when the party has made no such guarantee. And hence the need to join the CM’s choir of loyalists shouting “Only Sidda, none else,” long before Delhi has even decided who will lead Karnataka into the next election.

What is tragic in all this is not just the transparency of Deshpande’s desperation, but the loss of dignity that accompanies it. At 78, with an unmatched legislative career and vast administrative experience, Deshpande should have been mentoring the next generation, or offering counsel from a position of detachment. Instead, he is reduced to sycophancy, using his Chairmanship of a Commission — which should be a serious institutional role — as a platform for personal political branding.

By clinging to power not to serve but to shield, Deshpande has blurred the line between governance and self-interest. His praise now sounds less like loyalty and more like insurance. And in doing so, he becomes a symbol of a wider rot: a political class that no longer knows when to exit, that refuses to step aside unless forcibly removed, and that confuses power with survival.

Deshpande may still be on the political map. But his legacy is already off course.