In the last year and a half, what we’ve seen is only a Telangana of Vengeance. It has nothing to do with right or wrong, just or unjust, ethical or unethical — its sole objective is to reverse what the previous rulers did.
Published Jun 05, 2025 | 3:07 PM ⚊ Updated Jun 05, 2025 | 3:07 PM
Those who now wield power don’t even know the meaning of geographic, democratic, or social Telangana. It is doubtful whether they even understand what Telangana is.
Synopsis: A region with such a great history, a state achieved after decades of struggle, should have been a fertile ground for building a model of self-rule. It should have been a clean slate to write a new story. But the spoilt child who thought the slate belonged only to him broke it, chewed up the chalk, and turned this land of glorious legacy into dust. The living existence of three-and-a-half crore people was reduced to four family members and a handful of court poets.
During the Telangana statehood movement, there was intense debate and contention about what exactly we should strive for — a geographical Telangana, a democratic Telangana, or a social Telangana.
Everyone would strongly advocate for their view and a belief gradually gained strength and eventually prevailed: that a democratic or social Telangana could not be achieved within the existing system, and therefore, the first step should be the achievement of a minimum — the geographic Telangana. After the state was formed, efforts could then be made to democratize and socialize it. They could wait for now!
Yes, on 2 June 2014, Telangana became a separate state, in geographical sense only. As of this 2 June, it has crossed the milestone of eleven years. Eleven years may not be a long period in the course of social evolution or history. But in the life of an individual, and in the political and economic developments of a society or state, it is a significant span. Within this period, have any steps really been taken toward a democratic Telangana or a social Telangana? It is doubtful.
Every year, when Telangana celebrates its birthday on 2 June, has it ever reflected on how far the journey has progressed, whether it has walked the path it set out on, and how much farther it has to go in that direction? That, too, is doubtful.
Telangana has just arrived, and each year, with a token celebration, as though a blind ox has fallen into the field, flags are raised, and in the eulogies sung by court poets, singers, and performers paid to praise the rulers, we sink into bliss.
In these eleven years, has Telangana ever looked back and asked itself: Why did I start this journey? Am I still on that path? Where did I stray? Who led me astray? How can I get this cart back on track? That is questionable.
This is not a matter pertaining to one party, organization, or individual. This is not criticism aimed at any one person. It is a problem the whole of Telangana society and all its sons and daughters must ponder. The spirit of defiance, independence, and self-respect with which the people of Telangana once proudly identified — what happened to it over these eleven years? Did achieving geographic Telangana become the axe that chopped off Telangana’s self-respect? If some leaders and intellectuals misled the movement, why did Telangana society accept it so passively? This is a moment to reflect.
When I speak of all eleven years as a whole, it is clear this is not an attack on just one party. For nine and a half years, the Telangana Rashtra Samithi (later Bharat Rashtra Samithi) ruled the state. For the past one and a half years, the Indian National Congress has been in power. Regardless of who governs, what has happened to the people of Telangana? What have they gained?
All sections of society united to struggle for Telangana, sacrificing time, resources, labor, enduring cases and imprisonments, even laying down their lives. Has there ever been a truthful, clear, unbiased, realistic assessment of whether their aspirations were fulfilled over these eleven years? And when someone somewhere tries to raise such a question, have we not ensured their voices are silenced?
For fourteen years, the second phase of the Telangana movement said: Let us first achieve geographic Telangana, then address the problems born of six decades of alien rule one by one, and move toward democratic and social Telangana. But those very people who said this and came to power did not even make the slightest attempt in that direction.
Since the formation of Andhra Pradesh in 1956, democracy had never existed in Telangana. The constitutional guarantees of freedom of speech and expression were never implemented in reality. The restrictions imposed during the Nizam’s regime under rules like Gasti Nishan 52 and 53 were exceeded by the Andhra Pradesh government.
Article 19 of the Constitution was enforced only in favor of the ruling class. Article 21, the right to life, was trampled upon — especially from 1969 onwards — and thousands of Telangana youth were killed in fake encounters. During such dark days, the dream of a separate Telangana was born — a dream of a democratic Telangana where these chains would be broken. At the very least, people hoped that constitutional rights and rule of law would finally be implemented.
The belief was cultivated that coastal Andhra and Rayalaseema rulers were the reason democracy never reached Telangana. If they were removed, Telangana would be free of encounters and democracy would flourish. The people of Telangana — with as much innocence as defiance — believed these promises.
Likewise, Telangana, which had resisted domination and aristocracy for centuries and defeated them time and again, accepted feudal leadership once more, believing that if a geographic Telangana was achieved, that leadership would dissolve itself and usher in social Telangana. The very people whose blood and sweat turned the soil, who brought light and livelihood through their labor, who had never known rights beyond servitude — they believed that with the formation of Telangana, they would gradually gain power, and social Telangana would be realized.
The slogan, “Our share in the population must reflect in our share of fruits” — a natural, democratic cry — had echoed for decades. Therefore, people believed a social Telangana would emerge. Though Dalit-Bahujan leadership began emerging in Telangana over a century ago, it was after the 1980s that the first generation of educated thinkers, writers, and activists began to participate actively in people’s movements.
By the time of the second phase of the Telangana movement, many creative writers, analysts, and political leaders from these communities had emerged. But in no political, social, or cultural structure or leadership were they given a fair share. Against this background, the call for social Telangana was born. The leader of the time even promised a Dalit would be the first Chief Minister of the new Telangana state, assuring that the movement would continue in the direction of social justice.
But after the formation of geographic Telangana, neither democratic Telangana nor social Telangana was realized. Telangana experienced repression and rights violations even greater than under the rulers of united Andhra Pradesh.
Even public protest spaces — which leaders like N Chandrababu Naidu or YS Rajasekhara Reddy had not dared to eliminate — were destroyed by Telangana’s own rulers. Arrests, torture, bans on meetings, false cases, preemptive detention — these became the norm. Democratic Telangana has become something not even found in dreams.
The meaning of social Telangana was reduced to constructing buildings for each caste, or making a few praise-singers from each caste, and calling that empowerment.
A region with such a great history, a state achieved after decades of struggle, should have been a fertile ground for building a model of self-rule. It should have been a clean slate to write a new story. But the spoilt child who thought the slate belonged only to him broke it, chewed up the chalk, and turned this land of glorious legacy into dust. The living existence of three-and-a-half crore people was reduced to four family members and a handful of court poets.
The opportunity to realize people’s dreams, to create ideal governance even within limitations, was squandered by their own hands. A great state was reduced to a family feast.
After nine-and-a-half such years, the people of Telangana expressed their innate defiance and overturned the ruling power. But those who came to power a year and a half ago know nothing of Telangana’s history, nothing of its bright legacy, and have no idea how to revive or continue it. Because they don’t know what they should be doing, they are only doing what they do know — street-level tit-for-tat politics. Their only tactic is to say “No” to everything the opposition says “Yes” to. Their only strategy is revenge.
As a result, in the last year and a half, what we’ve seen is only a Telangana of Vengeance. It has nothing to do with right or wrong, just or unjust, ethical or unethical — its sole objective is to reverse what the previous rulers did.
As Bahadur Shah Zafar said: “Of the four moments I begged from God, two passed in desire, and the other two in waiting.” Similarly, as Telangana marks its eleventh birthday, it seems that nine and a half years were devoured as a family feast, and the remaining one and a half years were consumed in vengeance.
The pursuit of a democratic Telangana was crushed during the years of feasting. Those who now wield power don’t even know the meaning of geographic, democratic, or social Telangana. It is doubtful whether they even understand what Telangana is. The rest is just settling scores for what happened before them.
Thus, all that remains now is a Telangana of Vengeance.
In that feasting, and in this vengeance, the people are absent. There is no democracy — defined as by the people, of the people, and for the people. Then, it was one ruling clique; now, it is another. But there is no social Telangana where all communities and castes enjoy equal participation and benefits. The very Telangana that was the cradle of resistance and pride has now become more alienated than ever before.
(Edited by Majnu Babu).
