THE KUMARASWAMY MOMENT HAUNTING SIDDARAMAIAH

 The political theatre unfolding in Karnataka today is uncannily similar to the events that consumed the Kumaraswamy–Yediyurappa coalition nearly two decades ago. History is not just repeating itself; it is doing so with an almost dramatic precision. In 2009–10, H. D. Kumaraswamy’s refusal to vacate the Chief Minister’s chair — after enjoying two and a half years of power — shattered the Gowda family’s credibility and led to a midterm poll. That episode permanently damaged their moral standing. Today, Siddaramaiah stands on the edge of a comparable credibility precipice.

The public perception — whether entirely accurate or not — is that Siddaramaiah had indeed agreed to a 50:50 rotational arrangement when the Congress high command settled the leadership dispute in 2023. He may not admit it openly, but the widespread belief remains that he was expected to hand over the Chief Ministership to D. K. Shivakumar at the halfway mark. Siddaramaiah’s repeated declarations that he will “abide by whatever the high command decides” have done little to rescue his image. Instead, they convey a sense of hesitation, even unwillingness. Every day of silence from Delhi reinforces the narrative that Siddaramaiah is clinging to office against an ethical understanding.

Equally damning is the Congress high command’s paralysis. Both Siddaramaiah and Shivakumar have publicly affirmed their readiness to follow whatever the party decides. Under such circumstances, decisive leadership from the party's central command should have been automatic. Instead, its inaction has transformed an internal arrangement into a public embarrassment. The spectacle of two heavyweight leaders appearing locked in a freestyle wrestling match — while Delhi sits as a silent spectator — has deeply eroded the party’s image. Karnataka voters, who handed the Congress a mandate barely a year ago, now see a party sinking under its own indecision.

The moral contrast with Siddaramaiah’s self-proclaimed political mentor, Ramakrishna Hegde, is striking. Hegde resigned as Chief Minister three times — not under compulsion, not under public agitation, but because he believed that the dignity of the office mattered more than the prestige of holding it. He worked with a metaphorical resignation letter in his pocket. Siddaramaiah, on the other hand, seems to be working with calculations in his pocket — political arithmetic rather than political ethics.

At 79, Siddaramaiah should have been in a position to exit gracefully. A voluntary handover would have elevated him to a rare status — a statesman who rose above office at the right time. Instead, whether he stays or goes now, the damage is already done. His AHINDA base, once fiercely loyal, is increasingly disillusioned. His reputation as a man of principles has taken a beating he did not need at this stage in his career.

The tragedy is that Siddaramaiah had nothing to lose by stepping down, and everything to gain in terms of legacy. His unwillingness to do so — combined with the high command’s chronic indecision — has created a crisis that is hurting not just him but the Congress itself. History may not be exactly repeating itself, but its echoes are unmistakable. As with Kumaraswamy in 2009, the real casualty may not be the government, but the moral authority of its leader.