The Pillar of Stability, Eknath Shinde’s Eulogy and the End of an Era in Maharashtra Politics
The tragic and untimely death of Deputy Chief Minister Ajit Pawar has continued to draw profound reflections from the highest echelons of Maharashtra’s government. Following the deeply personal tributes from Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis, Union Minister Nitin Gadkari, and former minister Rajendra Darda, the latest testament comes from Deputy Chief Minister Eknath Shinde, who leads the Shiv Sena faction within the ruling MahaYuti alliance. His article, titled “A ‘Dada’ in truest sense of the word is gone,” is more than a eulogy; it is a significant political document. It provides the perspective of a crucial coalition partner and solidifies Pawar’s image as the irreplaceable anchor of the state’s administration and its complex political ecosystem. Shinde’s words transform the current affair into a study of institutional stability, the burden of chronicles of governance, and the precarious future of a tripartite coalition now missing its central pillar.
The Elder Brother: Personalizing the Political Anchor
Shinde immediately establishes a deeply personal connection, framing Pawar not just as a senior colleague but as “someone who had been like an elder brother to me.” This “elder brother” (Dada) metaphor is potent. In the context of Maharashtra’s often-fractious coalition politics, it suggests a relationship of guidance, protection, and implicit trust that went beyond transactional alliance management. Shinde’s claim of an “easy camaraderie that transcended hierarchy” is significant, as it points to Pawar’s ability to make junior partners feel respected and integral, a key skill in managing a multi-party government. This personal bond was the glue that likely smoothed over many potential fissures within the coalition, making Pawar the essential mediator and stabilizer between the BJP (Fadnavis), the Shiv Sena (Shinde), and his own NCP faction.
The Personification of Discipline: The Administrative Clock
Like the others, Shinde venerates Pawar’s work ethic, but he adds a new layer of comparative context. His humorous quip—that Fadnavis worked all day, Pawar started at dawn, and he (Shinde) began in the afternoon—playfully acknowledges the hierarchy of diligence within the government’s core. However, he swiftly corrects the record, revealing that “Dada’s day often began as early as 5 or 6 in the morning.” This extraordinary detail, coupled with the revelation that during Covid, Pawar was “personally present in the control room at the Mantralaya every single day,” elevates him from a hard worker to a figure of almost monastic dedication. He wasn’t just managing portfolios; he was embodying the state’s response to its gravest crisis. This paints Pawar as the government’s physical and moral center of gravity, a leader whose sheer presence in the seat of power was a statement of reliability and command.
The Ajatshatru: The Unifier in a Divided Arena
Perhaps Shinde’s most politically insightful contribution is the designation of Pawar as an “Ajatshatru” – a Sanskrit term meaning “one without enemies.” In the cutthroat world of Maharashtra politics, where rivalries are deep and memories are long, this is an extraordinary epitaph. Shinde explains, “whether they were in power or in the Opposition, he was a friend to everyone.” This directly corroborates and amplifies Gadkari’s point about friendship beyond politics. It suggests Pawar possessed a unique political character: he could engage in fierce criticism (“political criticism always continues”) without allowing it to curdle into personal animus (“no one ever held a grudge against him”).
This trait made him more than a leader; he was a keystone in the arch of political discourse. His presence allowed for a channel of communication across party lines. His death, therefore, doesn’t just remove a minister; it removes a critical shock absorber from the system, potentially leading to a more brittle, adversarial, and zero-sum political environment. The loss of the “friend to everyone” makes the landscape inherently more polarized.
The Institutional Memory and the Keeper of Protocol
Shinde provides a vital perspective on Pawar’s legacy as an institution builder and preserver. He notes Pawar’s pride in being the longest-serving state finance minister to present budgets—a record of sustained responsibility. Yet, crucially, Shinde states, “there was no ego in his conduct or speech.” This combination of historic authority and personal humility is rare. It allowed him to be both a repository of institutional memory and a respectful team player.
His mastery was holistic: “As finance minister, he possessed information about every department, yet he never broke the frame of protocol.” This is a critical observation. Pawar was not a micromanaging overlord; he was a constitutionalist who used his vast knowledge within the established framework of government. He “never seemed to ignore or dismiss anyone,” presenting his views “clearly and with authority.” This describes a leader who commanded respect through competence and integrity, not intimidation, making him effective in both cabinet rooms and the legislative assembly.
The Analyst of Viability: The Architect of Sustainable Development
Shinde delves into Pawar’s decision-making philosophy, offering the most detailed blueprint of his governance mindset. He reveals that Pawar “preferred verifying practicalities over dreamy presentations or hearsay.” When presented with a concept, Pawar would force a “360-degree analysis,” considering:
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Long-term viability
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Future maintenance costs
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True service to public interest
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Scale of public benefit
This was not impulsive decision-making, but a rigorous, almost engineering-like approach to statecraft. It explains his famed bluntness: a project that failed this viability test would get a swift “no.” However, this process ensured that his “yes” was a commitment to a sustainable, well-considered outcome. As Shinde notes, this “solid and prompt decision-making” made him a subject of fascination and emulation for younger legislators and ministers. He was the master craftsman of governance, and his workshop is now closed.
The Tripartite Void: Implications for the MahaYuti and Beyond
Eknath Shinde’s position as Deputy Chief Minister and head of the Shiv Sena faction makes his tribute a crucial piece of political analysis. It confirms Pawar’s role as the central balancing weight in the tripartite MahaYuti government.
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The End of the Balancing Act: The coalition was a delicate equilibrium between the BJP’s numerical strength, the Shiv Sena’s distinct identity, and the NCP’s administrative heft and regional network, represented by Pawar. As the “elder brother” figure, Pawar likely mediated between Fadnavis and Shinde, using his seniority and cross-party respect to forge consensus. Without him, disagreements between the two other partners could become more direct and destabilizing.
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Leadership Vacuum in the NCP Faction: Shinde’s heartfelt tribute underscores that Pawar’s authority was recognized and respected by all allies. His faction within the NCP, now leaderless, risks becoming a cluster of competing ambitions rather than a cohesive bloc. This internal volatility within one leg of the triad threatens the entire coalition’s stability.
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The Administrative Driver is Gone: Shinde’s testimony on Pawar’s round-the-clock work ethic and analytical rigor confirms he was the government’s primary engine of administration. With him gone, the burden falls on Fadnavis and Shinde, whose styles and portfolios differ. The risk is a slowdown in decision-making, particularly in complex financial and infrastructure matters that were Pawar’s forte.
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The Loss of the Ajatshatru: In a coalition where trust is paramount, the loss of the one figure widely seen as having “no enemies” is incalculable. Pawar’s goodwill was a form of political capital that lubricated the alliance’s operations. His absence may lead to a more transactional and suspicious atmosphere among partners.
Conclusion: The Unfillable Void and the Challenge of Succession
Eknath Shinde’s tribute culminates in a simple, devastating truth: “The entire state knows him as ‘Dada’… he truly was a ‘Dada’ of a man!” This universal acknowledgment of his stature as the “elder brother” of Maharashtra politics is his ultimate legacy. He was the steady hand, the early riser, the friend to all, the keeper of protocols, and the ruthless analyst of viability.
His death marks the end of an era defined by a certain kind of politics—one where personal relationships could temper partisan rivalry, where administrative skill commanded universal respect, and where the mantle of leadership was worn with a sense of timeless duty rather than temporary triumph.
The challenge for the surviving leadership—Fadnavis, Shinde, and the remnants of Pawar’s camp—is monumental. They must not only find a successor to his portfolios but also attempt to replicate the unique, stabilizing role he played. Can the coalition invent a mechanism to replace the “Ajatshatru“? Can the government institutionalize the 5 AM work ethic and the 360-degree policy analysis? The “unfinished dream” Rajendra Darda referenced is now compounded by a fractured foundation. The true current affair is whether Maharashtra’s polity can navigate this unprecedented void without descending into administrative paralysis or political chaos, or whether the absence of Dada will prove to be the unraveling of the complex tapestry he helped weave. The mind, as Shinde says, may refuse to accept his absence, but the machinery of the state must now find a way to operate in a world without its most reliable gear.
Q&A on Eknath Shinde’s Tribute and its Implications
Q1: How does Eknath Shinde personalize his relationship with Ajit Pawar, and what does this reveal about Pawar’s role in the coalition?
A1: Shinde describes Pawar as being “like an elder brother,” a relationship marked by “easy camaraderie that transcended hierarchy.” This reveals that Pawar’s role extended beyond that of a senior minister; he was a guiding and stabilizing figure within the tripartite MahaYuti coalition. His “elder brother” status allowed him to mediate between allies (the BJP and Shiv Sena) from a position of respected seniority, fostering trust and smoothing over potential conflicts, which was crucial for coalition cohesion.
Q2: Shinde describes Ajit Pawar as an “Ajatshatru” (one without enemies). Why is this characterization particularly significant in the context of modern Maharashtra politics?
A2: In an era of intense political polarization and personal vitriol, the designation of Ajatshatru is profoundly significant. It signifies that Pawar could engage in fierce political opposition without making personal enemies, maintaining friendships across party lines. This made him a unique unifying figure and a critical channel for dialogue in a divided house. His death removes this essential “shock absorber” from the system, potentially leading to a more brittle and adversarial political climate where disagreements are more likely to become personal and irreconcilable.
Q3: According to Shinde, what was Ajit Pawar’s distinctive approach to evaluating policies and projects?
A3: Shinde details that Pawar employed a rigorous, 360-degree analytical framework. He rejected “dreamy presentations or hearsay” and insisted on verifying practicalities. For any proposal, he would force an analysis of its long-term viability, future maintenance costs, genuine alignment with public interest, and the scale of public benefit. This methodical, almost engineering-like approach ensured that his decisions—especially the affirmative ones—were commitments to sustainable, well-vetted outcomes, not political whims.
Q4: What does Shinde’s revelation about Pawar’s daily schedule—starting at 5-6 AM and being present daily in the Covid war room—add to our understanding of his leadership?
A4: This revelation elevates Pawar from a hardworking minister to a figure of extreme, almost total, dedication. It shows his leadership was defined by physical presence and relentless availability. Starting work hours before the official day began set an unparalleled standard of discipline. His daily presence in the Covid control room wasn’t just managerial; it was symbolic, embodying the state’s steadfast response to crisis. It paints a picture of a leader for whom governance was a round-the-clock vocation, making his absence an operational and moral void.
Q5: As a key coalition partner, what does Shinde’s tribute imply about the stability of the MahaYuti government following Pawar’s death?
A5: Shinde’s tribute, by highlighting Pawar’s irreplaceable personal and political role, implicitly signals severe instability for the MahaYuti. Pawar was the central balancing weight between the BJP and Shiv Sena factions and the leader of a major NCP bloc. His death disrupts this tripartite equilibrium. The loss of the “elder brother” mediator and the administrative driver threatens to expose and amplify underlying tensions between the remaining partners. The coalition must now navigate not only the challenge of replacing his ministerial output but also the far harder task of replacing his unique function as the trusted, senior anchor who held the alliance together.
