Narendra Modi: The Prime Minister India Has Never Quite Agreed Upon

For more than twelve years, Narendra Modi has stood at the centre of India's political transformation, admired as a visionary and condemned as a threat to its democratic traditions. An Indian watching from abroad asks whether the controversies surrounding his leadership have obscured the changes he has brought about.

By B. S. Dara | The Continental | Letters from the Periphery | 31 October 2026

There are political leaders who govern a country and there are political leaders who change the way a country speaks about itself. Narendra Modi belongs, undeniably, to the second category. To say this is neither to absolve him of criticism nor to declare his every decision a triumph. It is to acknowledge the scale of his presence in contemporary India. For more than twelve years, he has occupied not merely the office of prime minister but the centre of the national argument. Every road, election, diplomatic visit, military confrontation, welfare announcement and controversy seems eventually to lead back to him. Even his opponents, in trying to displace him, often make him the principal subject of their politics.

For an Indian living abroad, this is a particularly striking transformation. I have watched India discussed in foreign offices, newspapers and ordinary conversations. Once, the questions tended to concern poverty, bureaucracy, corruption and whether the country could fulfil its immense promise. Today the questions are different. They concern India's growing influence, its technological infrastructure, its strategic independence, its treatment of minorities and its democratic institutions. The country is discussed with greater seriousness, though not always greater admiration. That distinction matters. A nation can become more consequential without becoming less controversial. Indeed, India's rise has made its contradictions harder for the world to ignore.

My own assessment of Modi is broadly favourable. I believe he has forced India to think beyond habits of political caution and national self-doubt. But a favourable assessment has little value if it survives only by excluding inconvenient facts. The point is not to argue that every criticism of Modi is mistaken. It is to ask whether a verdict formed entirely from his controversies can adequately explain the changes visible across the country.

Narendra Modi addresses the nation from the Red Fort on Independence Day, 15 August 2014.
Narendra Modi addresses the nation from the Red Fort on Independence Day, 15 August 2014. Image source and licensing: Wikimedia Commons.

The Mandate and Its Limits

Modi's ascent in 2014 was more than an electoral defeat for the Congress-led government. It marked a shift in political language. He promised administrative decisiveness, development, a more confident India and an escape from what he portrayed as an exhausted political establishment. His 2019 victory confirmed that the first mandate was not an accident. In 2024, he returned for a third term, but the Bharatiya Janata Party fell short of a majority on its own and required its National Democratic Alliance partners. That result is essential to the story. Modi's appeal remains formidable, yet Indian voters also demonstrated their capacity to restrain it.

The prime minister's political method is intensely personal. His speeches are theatrical, his slogans memorable and his public image carefully cultivated. He speaks as though he is in direct conversation with the electorate, bypassing much of the distance that usually separates national leaders from ordinary households. Mann Ki Baat exemplifies this method. Critics see a one-way broadcast that substitutes communication for accountability. Supporters hear a prime minister speaking about local achievement, social responsibility and citizens whose work rarely enters national headlines. Both responses reveal something about the programme. Its power lies less in policy detail than in the sense of connection it creates.

Such personalisation carries a cost. When every achievement is associated with one leader, institutions and colleagues recede from view. When every failure is treated as an attack on that leader, honest criticism becomes more difficult. India should be able to recognise Modi's unusual political gifts without confusing popular legitimacy with immunity from scrutiny.

The Everyday State

The most persuasive case for Modi does not begin at an international summit. It begins in the everyday transactions between a citizen and the state. Financial inclusion, digital payments, direct benefit transfers, household sanitation, electricity connections, cooking-gas programmes and expanded infrastructure have altered the practical experience of government for many people. These initiatives did not all begin under Modi, and their quality varies across regions. Yet his governments made delivery, scale and visible implementation central to their political identity.

India's digital public infrastructure is especially consequential. The combination of identity systems, bank accounts and mobile technology helped create channels for payments and public benefits that would have been difficult to imagine at comparable scale a generation ago. UPI has made instant payments ordinary for street vendors as well as large businesses. This is a genuine change in daily economic life, even while questions about exclusion, privacy, fraud and access deserve continued attention.

The Swachh Bharat campaign also changed the public conversation around sanitation. Building toilets is not the same as guaranteeing their use, maintenance or reliable water supply, and independent assessments have challenged some official claims. Nevertheless, the programme gave an unglamorous public-health issue national prominence. Politics often rewards grand gestures. Making sanitation a subject of prime-ministerial attention was, in its own way, a consequential gesture.

The distinction between announcement and outcome must remain central. A road inaugurated is not necessarily a road maintained. A beneficiary enrolled is not necessarily a beneficiary served well. Government claims need verification, and national progress must be measured against employment, education, healthcare and household security as well as headline projects. The strongest defence of Modi's record is therefore a qualified one. His administration has improved important state capacities, but it has not solved the structural inequalities that limit the lives of millions.

The Economic Promise

India's economy has expanded substantially during Modi's premiership and has become more visible in global business calculations. Infrastructure spending, formalisation, manufacturing incentives and efforts to attract investment form part of this record. So do the strains of unemployment, uneven incomes, agricultural distress and the vulnerability of small enterprises. The phrase 'five-trillion-dollar economy' has served as a political ambition, not a substitute for an examination of who benefits from growth.

Demonetisation remains one of the sharpest tests of the claim that boldness is always good governance. In November 2016, the sudden withdrawal of high-value currency notes disrupted cash-dependent livelihoods and produced long queues outside banks. The government presented the decision as a strike against black money, counterfeit currency and illicit activity, while also encouraging digital transactions. Subsequent evidence did not establish the sweeping elimination of unaccounted wealth that many citizens had expected. The hardship was real, and it cannot be explained away by invoking patriotic sacrifice.

Yet the episode also reveals something important about Modi's governing instincts. He is willing to impose enormous short-term disruption in pursuit of a claimed long-term transformation. Sometimes such willingness can break inertia. Sometimes it can magnify errors. The relevant question is not whether a decision looked courageous on television but whether its measurable benefits justified its costs. Demonetisation deserves that demanding standard, particularly because those least able to absorb the shock carried much of its burden.

The introduction of the Goods and Services Tax was similarly disruptive for many smaller businesses, though it also represented a major attempt to integrate India's fragmented indirect-tax system. The design has been revised repeatedly. Such policy changes should be judged as evolving institutions rather than treated as either instant miracles or permanent disasters.

Kashmir and the Meaning of Integration

In August 2019, the government revoked the special constitutional status of Jammu and Kashmir under Article 370 and reorganised the former state into union territories. To many supporters, this was the fulfilment of a longstanding promise to place the region within a common constitutional framework. It was presented as a step towards integration, investment and the weakening of separatist politics. To many Kashmiris and constitutional critics, the method was deeply troubling: political leaders were detained, communications were restricted and a state was reorganised without the ordinary consent of its elected representatives.

I understand the appeal of ending arrangements that had come to symbolise political paralysis and competing sovereignties. I also understand why citizens would question whether national integration can be advanced through prolonged restrictions on their own political voice. These are not mutually exclusive concerns. Security is indispensable, but so is the restoration of ordinary democratic agency. Any enduring settlement must be judged not simply by the absence of a particular constitutional provision but by safety, representation, civil liberties, opportunity and public trust.

Modi's supporters often argue that previous governments allowed difficult problems to harden into permanent exceptions. There is force in that argument. But breaking an exception does not automatically settle the grievance beneath it. The measure of success will be the quality of peace that follows, not the decisiveness of the announcement alone.

The prime minister delivers his Independence Day address from the Red Fort, 15 August 2022.
The prime minister delivers his Independence Day address from the Red Fort, 15 August 2022. Image source and licensing: Wikimedia Commons.

Security Without Illusions

The Pulwama attack in 2019 and India's subsequent airstrike at Balakot transformed the political atmosphere before that year's general election. The government portrayed the operation as a demonstration that India would respond across borders to terrorism. For many citizens, the message was emotionally powerful: the country would no longer appear resigned to repeated attacks. Critics questioned aspects of the public claims and warned against turning military operations into electoral spectacle.

The Pahalgam attack in April 2025 and Operation Sindoor that followed in May brought similar questions into sharper focus. The killing of civilians demanded a serious security response, but public debate must still distinguish official statements, independently established facts and disputed accounts. The armed forces belong to the republic, not to any party. Respecting their service requires resisting both reflexive cynicism and uncritical political appropriation.

I believe a government must be prepared to defend its citizens and deter attacks. I also believe military action is too grave to be reduced to campaign imagery. A mature nation can support its security institutions while demanding accuracy about objectives, outcomes and escalation risks. National resolve and democratic accountability are not enemies.

Religion, Identity and the Republic

Perhaps no dimension of the Modi era is more contentious than the relationship between Hindu cultural assertion and India's constitutional pluralism. The inauguration of the Ram temple in Ayodhya represented a profound moment for millions of Hindus after decades of legal and political conflict. For many believers, it was an occasion of religious fulfilment and historical recognition. For others, it raised difficult questions about the relationship between majoritarian sentiment, state ceremony and equal citizenship.

The legislation criminalising instant triple talaq was defended by the government as a measure of justice for Muslim women. Critics challenged its criminal provisions and questioned whether comparable urgency was shown towards other forms of gender injustice. The Citizenship Amendment Act produced an even sharper disagreement about religion and belonging, triggering protests and fears about equal treatment. These controversies cannot be resolved simply by calling one side patriotic and the other hostile to the nation.

Mob violence directed at Muslims and inflammatory rhetoric from political figures have caused genuine fear. A prime minister's responsibility is larger than the defence of his party's electoral coalition. It includes the obligation to make every citizen feel protected by the law. Support for Modi need not require indifference to such incidents. Indeed, a confident government should be capable of condemning hatred without qualification.

India's civilisational inheritance is broad, contradictory and shared. Its Hindu traditions are central to its history, but the republic belongs equally to citizens of every faith and to those of none. National pride becomes more durable when it is capacious enough to include disagreement. That is not a concession to opponents. It is the strength of a plural democracy.

Institutions and the Opposition

A recurring criticism of Modi's government concerns the independence of investigative agencies, the pressure faced by opposition leaders, the environment for journalists and civil society, and the balance between executive power and constitutional institutions. The Enforcement Directorate and Central Bureau of Investigation have featured prominently in political controversies. Arrests and investigations involving opposition figures have prompted allegations of selective enforcement. The government and its supporters maintain that public office should not shield anyone from lawful investigation.

Both propositions deserve attention. Corruption allegations must be investigated, regardless of party. At the same time, the appearance of unequal scrutiny can undermine public confidence even before a court reaches a verdict. The answer is not immunity for politicians. It is transparent procedure, institutional independence and consistent application of the law.

The fate of opposition parties also matters. Congress has struggled with leadership and organisational questions. Regional forces have faced their own divisions and shifting alliances. Modi did not invent these weaknesses, and it would be simplistic to attribute every political realignment to central manipulation. Yet a democracy is healthier when the opposition can compete freely and when voters can hear credible alternatives without fear or administrative obstruction.

Rahul Gandhi's temporary disqualification from Parliament in 2023 following a defamation conviction, later stayed by the Supreme Court, became an international symbol of these anxieties. The legal sequence matters as much as the political rhetoric. Similarly, allegations of pressure on media organisations or misuse of law require careful documentation, not automatic acceptance or automatic dismissal. Defending a prime minister's achievements should never require weakening the standards by which his government is judged.

The Pandemic's Unequal Burden

COVID-19 exposed both the capabilities and the limitations of the Indian state. The nationwide lockdown in March 2020 was announced with little time for millions of workers and employers to prepare. Migrant labourers were stranded, families began arduous journeys home and the images of people walking along highways became part of the national record. Those experiences must remain central to any assessment of pandemic governance.

India also mounted a vaccination campaign of immense scale, supported by domestic vaccine production and digital systems. That achievement deserves recognition. So do the healthcare workers, scientists, state administrations and local volunteers who made it possible. The devastating second wave in 2021, however, exposed shortages of oxygen, hospital capacity and preparedness. No amount of political branding can erase those losses.

Modi's communication style was visible throughout the crisis, from public appeals to displays of solidarity. Some citizens found reassurance in these gestures. Others regarded them as inadequate substitutes for planning and transparent reporting. Both experiences are part of the story. A leader can inspire collective action and still be held responsible for administrative failures. A serious account must preserve that complexity.

Narendra Modi addresses a UN Security Council high-level debate on maritime security, 2021.
Narendra Modi addresses a UN Security Council high-level debate on maritime security, 2021. Image source and licensing: Wikimedia Commons.

India's Place in the World

Where I find the case for Modi particularly compelling is in the change of India's diplomatic posture. His government has pursued close relations with the United States while maintaining important ties with Russia. It has strengthened engagement with Israel without formally abandoning support for Palestinian statehood. It has invested heavily in relationships across the Gulf, where millions of Indians live and work. It has also sought a more prominent role for India in multilateral forums and in debates about the interests of the Global South.

These developments did not emerge from nothing. Earlier governments built much of the diplomatic and economic foundation. Modi's contribution lies partly in his willingness to project India's ambitions with unusual visibility and political energy. He treats international engagement as a matter of domestic confidence as well as foreign policy. His extensive travel and high-profile meetings attract criticism for their expense and spectacle. The appropriate test is whether they deepen strategic partnerships, improve economic opportunities and protect Indian interests.

The phrase 'Vishwaguru' can sound grandiose when employed as a political slogan. A country does not become a teacher to the world by declaring itself one. It earns influence through the quality of its institutions, the reliability of its commitments, the creativity of its people and the example it sets. Yet the aspiration to be heard as an independent civilisational and economic power is not inherently misplaced. India should neither apologise for its ambitions nor mistake applause for achievement.

The Indian abroad sees another side of this diplomacy. The safety and dignity of migrant workers, students and professionals are affected by consular systems, bilateral agreements and the country's standing with host governments. Diplomatic prestige matters most when it improves the lives of those who carry Indian passports far from home.

The Politics of Personality

Modi's rise has also changed the relationship between political leadership and public image. His face appears across government campaigns and public messaging. His rallies are meticulously staged, his phrases widely repeated and his personal story woven into a larger national narrative. Opponents call this an excessive cult of personality. Supporters regard it as the visible expression of leadership and accountability.

There is some truth in the criticism. Public programmes are financed by citizens and implemented by institutions. Their legitimacy should not depend on the constant presence of a leader's photograph. But it would be equally mistaken to dismiss Modi's popular connection as mere theatre. Political communication matters because people want to know who is responsible for decisions that affect their lives. He has understood that desire more successfully than most of his rivals.

The problem arises when communication replaces explanation. A government confident of its record should be willing to answer sustained questions, accept unscripted scrutiny and acknowledge mistakes. Charisma is a political asset, not a constitutional substitute. The ability to win elections demonstrates consent to govern; it does not eliminate the duty to govern within limits.

What the Voter Has Said

India's electorate has offered the most useful corrective to both worship and despair. It delivered decisive mandates in 2014 and 2019, then a more complicated verdict in 2024. In different states, voters have embraced the BJP, rejected it or supported regional parties for reasons rooted in local conditions. Modi has struggled to establish comparable dominance in some regions, including Punjab. The country has not become a single, uniform political audience.

This is important because public judgment is more discriminating than much of the commentary surrounding it. Voters can admire a prime minister's national-security posture while worrying about jobs. They can welcome a welfare benefit while rejecting a local candidate. They can take pride in international recognition while demanding better schools, hospitals and prices. Their choices cannot always be reduced to religious identity, propaganda or personal devotion.

Nor should electoral success be treated as proof that criticism is illegitimate. A government may command a majority and still make damaging decisions. An opposition may lose repeatedly and still identify real failures. The democratic process depends on preserving both possibilities.

The Standard by Which History Will Judge Him

It is tempting to turn the Modi era into a simple contest between two stories. In one, a courageous reformer has restored India's self-belief after decades of hesitation. In the other, an immensely talented politician has used that self-belief to concentrate power and deepen divisions. Neither story, on its own, can contain the whole record.

I lean towards the first interpretation, with important reservations. I see a prime minister who has challenged bureaucratic inertia, given greater visibility to infrastructure and welfare delivery, pursued an assertive foreign policy and helped ordinary Indians imagine their country as a more consequential actor. I also see policies that imposed unnecessary hardship, institutional questions that remain unresolved and social divisions that no responsible admirer should minimise.

The most revealing question is not whether Modi has been right about everything. No serious leader could meet that test. It is whether the direction of his leadership has strengthened India's capacity to act, to prosper and to hold its government accountable. Those three measures belong together. Economic strength without liberty is incomplete. National pride without social trust is fragile. Decisive government without institutional restraint can become a danger to the very future it claims to protect.

The story is still being written. Modi remains in office, and the consequences of many decisions will take years to become clear. Some achievements may endure beyond his premiership. Some mistakes may prove more costly than they appear today. The verdict should not be delivered in advance by either his admirers or his detractors.

From abroad, I have often felt that India was described in terms smaller than its possibilities. Under Modi, that has changed. The world pays attention to India's choices with an intensity that was once less common. But attention is only an opportunity. The republic must decide what to do with it.

A great prime minister is not one whom history is forbidden to question. He is one whose achievements remain substantial after every question has been asked. That is the standard Narendra Modi deserves, and the standard India must insist upon.