(Part 3)
Trust Is the Only Currency That Matters.
Trust mattered more in Bihar Elections of 2025.
Elections are not battles of manifestos or five-year visions. They turn on a single, ancient question: whom do I trust? Everything else is secondary. Parties can shout about plans, promises, or ideology, but voters respond to one thing: who feels reliable when the noise is switched off.
In today’s politics, three very different messages compete for attention. One party insists the system is rigged and every defeat is theft. Another tries to scare voters into obedience with threats and street-level intimidation. And a third quietly hands people a small financial push and says, in effect, I trust you, go build something. Each of these messages carries a psychological weight far heavier than any manifesto.
Vote Theft
The cry of “vote theft” is inherently corrosive. It does not only claim that machines malfunction or officials conspired; it goes further and tells voters their judgment was flawed, that they were fooled, that their decision did not matter. It creates helplessness and humiliation, not solidarity. No one likes to be told they were duped. As a political strategy, it destroys the basic respect between voter and party.
Fear Factor
The strategy of intimidation by threats of muscle and weapons cloaked in memes, produces obedience, not loyalty. Fear may secure a seat or two when circumstances align, but it collapses the moment the enforcer weakens. People who follow out of fear are always ready to run. Fear can create silence, but it cannot create support.
Then there is the approach that says: here is a small amount of seed capital, use it to start something of your own. It is not the size of the sum that matters, it is the signal. It communicates trust. It tells citizens that the state believes they can improve their lives with just a little push. And once trust is offered in material form, people reciprocate. They return loyalty for faith, not because they are bought, but because they feel respected. Trust, once planted, grows roots.
Confused Trust
This is why the constant accusations of election fraud trap Congress in a spiral. They ask people to distrust the system, distrust the machines, distrust the process. Yet somehow trust them to fix it. It is logically broken and emotionally tone-deaf. If everything is untrustworthy, why would the voter trust the party making the accusation? It is the rhetoric of losers who cannot admit they lost trust long before they lost votes.
Selling Tickets
We have also seen what happens when a party abandons its own base for wealthy ticket-buyers. The BSP’s decline began the moment it signalled to Dalit voters that their loyalty was less valuable than a candidate’s wallet. Trust evaporated, and the party’s core collapsed. Congress has repeated the same mistake, selling candidacies to the highest bidder and then expecting workers and voters to offer unconditional trust. That is not politics; that is a pawn shop.
The message that comes with economic support works because it is structured as mutual trust. A small infusion is given without immediate demand. If the recipient uses it well and shows even modest progress, a larger amount becomes accessible. The final stage, far more substantial support, becomes available only after demonstrated success. This is not welfare; it is a graduated partnership. Each step deepens the bond between giver and recipient. The party trusts the citizen to start; the citizen trusts the party to back their progress. It is a cycle, not a transaction.
This system explains why many voters in places like Bihar responded so strongly. They saw one side already acting on their behalf, before the election, without conditions, while the other side was busy complaining about imagined conspiracies. Empowerment versus helplessness is not a complicated choice. People choose the path that makes them feel capable.
Trust is not built by shouting from a podium. It is built by small actions delivered without fanfare. Money arriving quietly in an account matters far more than a parade of promises. Meanwhile, broken guarantees and delayed schemes destroy trust quicker than any scandal. Promising the world and then offering excuses is the fastest path to irrelevance.
This is why caste-based politics struggles to inspire confidence. Counting communities signals the opposite of trust; it turns people into categories to be studied and managed. It suggests the party wants data, not partnership.
Every election ultimately reduces to the same question: do I trust you? Not do I like your speech, not do I agree with your caste arithmetic, not do I approve of your alliances. Trust is the final filter. If the answer is yes, everything else becomes secondary. If the answer is no, nothing else matters.
The NDA’s advantage is simple: they acted in ways that built trust. They delivered early, without drama, and allowed people to climb. Congress, instead of rebuilding trust, doubled down on excuses, accusations, and internal distrust of workers, voters, and democracy itself. A party that trusts nobody cannot expect voters to trust it.
In the end, the truth is brutal but obvious. Elections do not measure preferences; they measure confidence. People gravitate toward whoever demonstrated belief in them before asking for a vote. They move away from those who scream fraud or wield fear. Trust creates power; power without trust is hollow.
Congress lost trust long before it lost states. Until it understands that elections are referendums on reliability, not rhetoric, it will continue losing. The political theatre will go on, but the audience will keep walking out.
Trust left the hall; power is now dancing alone on stage.