Editorial

As Bihar braces for the 2025 Assembly polls, the electoral battle has crystallised into a stark choice between transformation and inertia. The Mahagathbandhan, led by Tejashwi Yadav’s RJD, has unveiled a visionary manifesto—Bihar ka Tejashwi Pran—that pulses with urgency, specificity, and empathy. In contrast, the NDA, anchored by Nitish Kumar’s JD(U) and the BJP, stumbles toward its October 30 Sankalp Patra release, still trading on faded 2020 promises. This asymmetry alone signals the opposition’s superior readiness.

At its core, the Mahagathbandhan’s document is a covenant with Bihar’s dispossessed. It pledges one government job per family through legislation within 20 days of assuming power—a direct antidote to the NDA’s unfulfilled 10–12 lakh job vow, now diluted into a nebulous “1 crore opportunities” sans timelines or legal backing. While Nitish touts electrified villages, Tejashwi counters with 200 units of free electricity monthly—a lifeline for 80 per cent of households trapped by erratic billing. Women, long reduced to symbolic schemes, are promised Rs 2,500 monthly under Mai-Behin Maan Yojana, dwarfing the NDA’s loan-heavy Kanya Utthan, which burdened more than it empowered.

Agriculture, Bihar’s lifeline, finds revolutionary redress in the Mahagathbandhan’s MSP guarantee for all crops, revival of mandis, and land allocation for the landless—measures the NDA has ignored amid mounting farmer suicides. Education gets a tectonic shift with women’s colleges in every sub-division and abolished exam fees, against the NDA’s teacher-starved classrooms. Social justice, too, is reimagined: quota hikes for MBCs, SCs, and STs, Waqf transparency, and Bodh Gaya’s restoration to Buddhist stewardship.

The NDA’s narrative—roads, power connections, and “double-engine” synergy—feels like a progress report on yesterday’s homework. Crime graphs climb, paper leaks erode trust, and youth exodus continues unabated. Nitish’s governance, once a reformist beacon, now resembles a tired caretaker regime, sustained by alliances rather than achievement.

Tejashwi’s manifesto isn’t flawless; its fiscal math will demand ruthless prioritisation. Yet it dares to dream aloud, binding promises to calendars and statutes. It speaks the language of dignity—of jobs that stay, electricity that doesn Gent, and respect that doesn’t beg. The NDA offers continuity; the Mahagathbandhan offers catharsis.

Bihar stands at a precipice. One path loops through unkept oaths and incrementalism. The other, riskier but resonant, charts a rupture with despair. In 2025, the electorate must decide: endure the familiar ache or embrace the audacity of change. The Mahagathbandhan’s manifesto isn’t just a document—it’s a declaration of arrival. Bihar deserves no less.

The boycott by over 300 writers against The New York Times’ Opinion section is not a tantrum; it is a mirror. It forces America’s paper of record to confront a truth it has long evaded: influence without accountability is complicity. When the Times soft-pedals “genocide,” when it scrubs “ethnic cleansing” from its lexicon, when it retracts a flawed October 7 exposé only after scandal erupts, it does not merely err—it enables. Every muted headline, every unverified Israeli claim printed as gospel, lands like a 500-pound bomb on a Gaza already reduced to rubble.

The signatories’ demands are surgical: audit bias, diversify sourcing, bar journalists with IDF ties, publish an arms-embargo op-ed, and apologize for decades of anti-Palestinian distortion. These are not radical; they are remedial. The Times has apologized before—for Iraq’s phantom WMDs, for Holocaust underreporting. Gaza deserves the same reckoning.

Critics will cry “free speech,” but the boycott is free speech in its purest form: labor withheld until conditions improve. No one is muzzled; voices are simply redirected to outlets that do not launder atrocity. The real censorship is the Times’ own style guide, which forbids language that might disturb Washington’s consensus.

The paper’s silence since the boycott’s October 28 launch is deafening. Advertisers flee, staff sue, Palestinian journalists die—over 210 since 2023—yet the masthead clings to neutrality as camouflage. Neutrality between oppressor and oppressed is not impartiality; it is allegiance.

History will judge the Times not by Pulitzer counts but by whether it chooses prestige over principle. Three hundred writers have drawn the line. The question is simple: will the Gray Lady cross it, or keep erasing the victims on the other side?

October 2025 has reaffirmed what India’s sporting heart truly beats for—resilience, not just results. While cricket’s T20I showdown with Australia grabs eyeballs, the real story lies in the quiet grit stitching our diverse athletic tapestry.

Rohit Sharma’s unbeaten 121 in Sydney wasn’t just a century; it was a defiant stand against age, form, and farewell whispers. As he and Virat Kohli possibly play their last Down Under series, the baton passes mid-stride—Shubman Gill’s calm captaincy, Yashasvi Jaiswal’s fearless strokeplay. This isn’t transition; it’s evolution in real time. Shreyas Iyer’s spleen injury reminds us: even heroes bleed. Yet cricket’s shadow must not eclipse the light elsewhere. The women’s ODI World Cup semifinal against Australia in Guwahati is more than a match—it’s a statement. Shafali Verma’s return injects audacity into a side led by Smriti Mandhana’s steel. A final in Mumbai would be poetic justice on home soil. Beyond boundaries, hockey’s junior silver in Johor, Tanvi Sharma’s badminton final in Guwahati, and Zoravar Singh Sandhu’s shooting bronze in Athens signal depth. Football’s AFC qualifiers stumble, but the Super Cup’s roar in Goa and AIFF’s governance reset promise structural revival. Para-athletes like Deepak Sharma remind us: excellence has no asterisk.

India doesn’t need to dominate every podium. It needs systems—scouting, coaching, recovery—that let talent breathe. From Bhubaneswar’s junior tracks to Chennai’s upcoming Junior Hockey World Cup, the pipeline hums. The Supreme Court’s AIFF ruling echoes BCCI reforms: institutional health breeds sustained success.

As Diwali lamps glow, let’s celebrate not just wins, but the will to return—bloodied, bandaged, unbroken. Rohit’s smile after Sydney, Shafali’s net intensity, a para-runner’s sprint: these are India’s true medals. The scoreboard will forget; the spirit won’t. In sport, as in life, India plays not to escape reality, but to redefine it.

• SAS Kirmani