A short reel circulating on social media has recently captured the political mood of Bihar better than any long analysis could. In it, a local journalist, speaking in a regional dialect, asks an elderly woman, “Who will you vote for this time, development or caste?” The woman smiles and replies, “Which caste is development?” Her response, though simple and humorous, carries deep meaning. It reflects the fatigue of a society caught for decades between the rhetoric of development and the reality of caste politics. This one sentence reveals the truth that Bihar’s political consciousness has become trapped in the language of caste, while development remains an abstract promise, distant and impersonal.
The tension between caste and development is not new to Bihar. After the Mandal movement, the politics of social justice redefined power equations. Under Lalu Prasad Yadav, the backward classes experienced political representation and dignity for the first time. That was an era of democratic expansion with the assertion of the marginalised. Yet over time, this politics reduced itself to a game of representation rather than transformation. While the faces in power changed, governance priorities remained the same. The result: Development was discussed in slogans but rarely practised in policy. The elderly woman’s remark cuts through all this, reminding us that in Bihar, “development” has yet to acquire any social identity of its own.
In the 21st century, development emerged as a major electoral issue, yet it did not bring any significant change in election outcomes. The main reason for this lies in the political understanding that evolved among the backward and marginalised communities by the final decades of the 20th century that social and political movements can only sustain themselves in coordination with each other. While economic realities shape the direction of politics, it is ultimately through political power that the economy and its structures can be controlled and directed. This realisation created a political culture where social assertion and power politics became inseparable, and development became meaningful only when tied to representation.
That is why the woman’s remark, “Which caste is development?” stings so sharply. It captures both wisdom and irony. People have heard the language of development for decades, but their lived experience remains rooted in caste calculations. Political parties, despite claiming to talk about roads, jobs, and education, still distribute tickets, ministries, and opportunities based on caste arithmetic. Bihar’s voters have learned to recognise this double game and to laugh at it. The viral clip is, in a sense, a moment of political enlightenment disguised as humour.
Today, when movements like Jan Suraaj speak of politics beyond caste and corruption, they face the same challenge of how to engage meaningfully with Bihar’s entrenched social realities. The people are weary of old slogans and shifting alliances. They know that politics in Bihar has become a contest of personalities rather than ideas. That is why the so-called “alternative politics” in the state remains largely rhetorical. True alternative politics is not about replacing one leader with another; it is about reimagining political culture itself. Jan Suraaj aspires to do this, but its efforts are still tentative, more campaign than conviction, more message than movement.
The weakness of Bihar’s alternative politics lies in its lack of three essential qualities: The courage to confront social truths, the ability to rebuild public trust, and the vision to redefine the meaning of caste. Most parties either deny caste or exploit it. They talk about development but never clarify for whom, and on whose terms. That is why alternative politics exists only as a slogan, not as a social force. The question, “Which caste is development?” posed half in jest, is actually Bihar’s most profound political commentary. It exposes the hypocrisy of parties that promise development but distribute tickets and portfolios along caste lines. Development has become the language of campaigns, while caste remains the grammar of governance. This irony lies at the heart of Bihar’s political stagnation.
If Bihar is to move beyond this deadlock, it must seek not to erase caste but to democratise development. The goal should not be caste-free politics, but an equitable one where development reaches every caste and community, not just a privileged few. Alternative politics will only succeed when it stops treating citizens as mere voters and begins to involve them as participants in governance. Jan Suraaj can become meaningful only if it transforms from a movement for the people to a movement of the people. Bihar today stands at a crossroads. The people are ready for change, but the political direction remains unclear. Disillusioned with traditional parties, they are open to new experiments, yet still skeptical of grand promises. The viral remark mirrors this skepticism. It’s not a joke; it’s a verdict. It tells us that Bihar’s people understand politics far better than politicians assume.
The true alternative in Bihar will not emerge from speeches or social media campaigns. It will arise when politics learns to listen, when it begins to speak the language of the people, not the vocabulary of power. Only then will development cease to be an election slogan and become a shared experience across caste lines. Until that day, Bihar’s alternative politics will remain what it is today sharp in rhetoric, but blunt in impact.
The writer teaches at Zakir Husain Delhi College, Delhi University
