Karnataka BJP: noise without introspection

 In politics, there is a vast difference between preaching to others and practicing what one preaches. The public never forgets how a party conducted itself when in power. If a party that was thrown out of office for its lapses now tries to present itself as the sole custodian of morality, the people respond with indifference, even irritation. Today, the BJP in Karnataka finds itself precisely in this unenviable position.

No matter how loudly the BJP questions the present Congress government, one question echoes back in the minds of the people: what did you do when you were in power? The memory of how the party relied on a “cooked-up” and stolen majority to retain power is still fresh. Its years in government were marred by glaring omissions and commissions, factionalism within the party, and an opportunistic style of functioning. These mistakes cost it the mandate, and the voters decisively pushed it out of office.

At such a juncture, the BJP’s first duty should have been introspection. Why were we rejected? Where did we go wrong? Which mistakes must never be repeated? Instead of undertaking such a sober self-examination, the BJP has preferred to plunge headlong into a politics of noise. Every other day it stages protests, threatens agitations, or seeks to discredit the government by street-level confrontation. Far from impressing the people, this constant commotion has generated a sense of revulsion.

The deeper problem, however, is the BJP’s leadership crisis in Karnataka. There is no figure within the state unit today who commands unquestioned credibility across communities. No single leader’s voice carries the moral force required to inspire party workers or attract ordinary citizens. Without such credibility, the party’s exhortations sound hollow, and its criticisms are dismissed as mere political opportunism.

This is where the BJP appears to have misunderstood the very role of an opposition. Being in opposition does not mean picking a street fight with the government at every turn. A responsible opposition identifies mistakes in governance, subjects them to reasoned criticism, and offers constructive alternatives. It keeps the government accountable, but does so in ways that elevate public debate rather than dragging it into the gutter. In Karnataka, however, the BJP seems to have chosen precisely the opposite path.

The result is predictable: people tune out. Already skeptical of the BJP for its past conduct, they now find its constant clamour tiresome. Instead of regaining lost credibility, the party only alienates the very public whose trust it so badly needs to rebuild.

And yet, one nuance deserves mention. The Congress government in Karnataka, too, will face its share of challenges and failures. When it falters on governance, the opposition’s criticism will matter. But for the BJP to seize such opportunities, it must shift from the politics of noise to the politics of substance. If it focuses on issue-based debates, policy critiques, and credible alternative proposals, the public may once again see it as a serious political force. Until then, its protests will sound less like the voice of the people and more like the echo of its own frustrations.

In conclusion, Karnataka BJP today is behaving like a party shooting itself in the foot. Without introspection, without credible leadership, and without a constructive agenda, it has reduced itself to mere agitation. If it aspires to become the people’s voice again, it must first reclaim its own moral authority. A strong opposition is indispensable for democracy—but strength comes not from noise, but from integrity, ideas, and the courage to admit past mistakes.