By _shalini oraon
_In the heart of Bihar, a curious political anachronism thrives. In the village of Leningrad, a name echoing a bygone era of Soviet communism, the political discourse is dominated not by class struggle, but by a singular, state-sponsored initiative: the Dashazari Yojana (Ten-Year Scheme). This ambitious program, a pet project of Chief Minister Nitish Kumar, has become the bedrock of his enduring support among a crucial demographic—women. However, as one traverses from the courtyards where women gather to the fields where young men loiter, a stark generational divide emerges, painting a complex picture of Nitish Kumar’s political fortress.
Leningrad’s Loyalists: The Women’s Fortress
The story of Nitish Kumar’s resilience in Bihar politics is, in many ways, written in the villages like Leningrad. Here, the Dashazari Yojana is not a distant government policy but a tangible reality that has recalibrated domestic life. The scheme, a multi-faceted conditional cash transfer program, provides financial incentives to families to delay marriage and encourage education for girls. It offers monetary support at various stages—from admission in school to completion of graduation and beyond, provided the girl marries only after 18.
For the women of Leningrad, this is nothing short of a revolution.
“Earlier, our fathers would see us as a burden to be married off by 15 or 16,” says Sita Devi, a mother of two teenage daughters. “Now, because of Nitish-ji’s scheme, they see an advantage in educating them. The money helps with books, and the promise of more money for a degree gives us hope.” This hope is a powerful currency. It has transformed Nitish Kumar from a political leader into a benefactor, a figure who has directly intervened to alter their destinies.
The scheme’s impact extends beyond the individual. It has fostered a sense of collective empowerment. In village after village, women self-help groups (SHGs) under the Jeevika program—another Kumar initiative that often works in tandem—have become the new panchayats. These groups are not just economic units; they are networks of information and solidarity. Here, the benefits of the Dashazari Yojana are discussed, celebrated, and fiercely protected. This has led to a near-unshakeable consolidation of the women’s vote. For them, voting for Nitish Kumar is an act of safeguarding their own and their daughters’ futures. It is a vote for dignity and delayed, but more empowered, matrimony.
This “women’s vote” has been Kumar’s most reliable bulwark against anti-incumbency and challengers. It is a fortress built on the tangible delivery of a social welfare promise, making Leningrad, and thousands of villages like it, impregnable for his opponents.
The Cracks in the Citadel: The Restless Youth
Yet, outside the walls of this fortress, a different narrative is brewing. If the courtyards echo with assurances, the village chowks and tea stalls hum with a restless energy, predominantly among the youth. For young men like Ravi Kumar, a 22-year-old who holds a BA degree, the Dashazari Yojana is an abstract concept. His concerns are immediate and visceral: “What good is a scheme for my future sister-in-law if I myself have no rozgar (employment)?”
The chorus of discontent among the youth is loud and clear. They speak of a “lost decade” of their own. While they acknowledge the benefits for their sisters, they feel left behind. The promises of industrial investment, private sector jobs, and a vibrant economy have, in their view, failed to materialise. Their degrees feel like worthless parchments in a state where government jobs are fiercely competitive and private industry is scant.
“This government talks of keeping girls in school, but what about keeping boys from leaving the state?” asks Vikas Singh, who recently returned from a gruelling stint as a construction worker in Kerala. “We have to migrate to Punjab, Haryana, Tamil Nadu, anywhere but Bihar, for work. Where is the Vikas (development) for us?”
This restlessness is Nitish Kumar’s Achilles’ heel. The very generation that grew up under his long tenure is now his most potent critic. For them, the social empowerment of women, while commendable, does not put food on their own plates or satisfy their aspirations. They crave economic liberation, an area where the government’s report card is marked with red ink. They are drawn to opposition narratives that promise quotas in private sector jobs or the allure of a “double-engine sarkar” that pledges accelerated development.
Nitish Kumar’s Precarious Balancing Act
The political landscape of Bihar, therefore, is a tale of two electorates. In Leningrad, Nitish Kumar is the architect of female emancipation. Just a few feet away, he is the administrator who could not create jobs. This dichotomy defines his current political strategy—a precarious balancing act.
His alliance with the BJP, and his own party’s focus, is a dual-track approach. On one track, he continues to aggressively champion his women-centric schemes, ensuring his core vote bank remains fortified. Grand events are held to distribute benefits, and the narrative of “Sushasan Babu” (the good governance man) is relentlessly pushed, targeting the female electorate.
On the other track, he and his allies attempt to pacify the youth. Promises of skill development programs, entrepreneurship schemes, and a renewed focus on attracting investment are made. However, these often sound hollow to young men who have heard similar promises before. The government also leans heavily on identity politics and nationalist rhetoric, hoping to sublimate economic grievances into cultural solidarity.
Conclusion: The Future of the Fortress
As Bihar moves forward, the question is not whether the women’s fortress will hold—for now, it appears steadfast. The real question is whether the restless energy of the youth will eventually find a way to breach its walls. The Dashazari Yojana has secured Nitish Kumar’s present, creating a powerful constituency with a long memory of his benefits.
But the future belongs to the youth. Their aspirations, if left unaddressed, represent a gathering storm. For Nitish Kumar, the challenge is to bridge this generational chasm. He must find a way to translate the social capital he has built among women into economic opportunities that can placate their brothers and sons. Until then, in villages like Leningrad, the air will remain thick with a paradox: the grateful hum of women inside their fortified homes, and the discontented murmur of young men waiting at the gates, wondering when, or if, their turn for liberation will come.