India’s regional political landscape has long been a family business. The National Conference belongs to the Abdullahs, the Samajwadi Party to the Yadavs, the RJD to the Lalus, the DMK to the Karunanidhis and Stalins, the Akali Dal to the Badals, and Shiv Sena – well, the Thackerays kept it until they couldn’t. The pattern is unmistakable: charismatic founders, dynastic succession, and an iron grip on party machinery that leaves little room for internal democracy.
Arvind Kejriwal’s Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) was supposed to be different. Born out of the Anna Hazare anti-corruption movement of 2011, it carried the promise of a new kind of politics – transparent, participatory, and accountable. More than a decade later, AAP is beginning to look uncomfortably familiar.
An Age-Old Tale
The exodus from AAP did not begin yesterday. Founding members – Yogendra Yadav, Prashant Bhushan, Ashutosh – walked out years ago, each citing variations of the same grievance: Kejriwal’s authoritarian control, his intolerance of dissent, and his instinct to centralise every decision.
But if the departure of founding stalwarts could be explained away as ideological friction, the more recent wave of exits is harder to dismiss. Raghav Chadha, Swati Malihotra, Sandeep Dixit – these are not disgruntled founders. These are Kejriwal’s own proteges, loyalists he elevated and championed. When even your handpicked successors choose the exit door, something really must have gone wrong.
The Rajya Sabha Rout
The numbers tell a sobering story. Seven out of ten AAP Rajya Sabha members have now severed ties with the party. Some, like Raghav Chadha, brought youthful energy and strategic sharpness. Others brought financial muscle – businessmen given tickets as part of the transactional realities all parties navigate. When the ED and CBI came calling, many of those financial backers quietly disappeared.
Their departure has a practical consequence that goes beyond optics: AAP’s strength in the Upper House has been set back by at least a decade. The Rajya Sabha is where legislation is tested, where opposition coalitions are built, and where national credibility is established. Losing seven members does not just thin the benches – it diminishes AAP’s ability to punch above its weight in national politics.
The Punjab Problem
AAP’s most critical test now lies in Punjab, its only remaining state government. The party is already navigating the choppy waters of anti-incumbency after nearly three years in office. Its survival in by-polls has owed less to its own performance and more to the fortunate fragmentation of opposition votes among the Congress, BJP, and competing Akali Dal factions.
Any significant rupture within the Punjab unit could destabilise the government directly. A dent large enough – through defections, internal rebellion, or a collapse in public confidence – risks handing AAP a second consecutive hammer blow after the humiliating loss of Delhi. Losing Delhi hurt. Losing Punjab would be existential.
The Corruption Burden
The partial relief that came with Kejriwal’s legal clearance in the Delhi liquor scam has been rapidly neutralised by the cumulative weight of perception. Corruption allegations, high-profile defections, and the Delhi defeat have collectively pushed AAP into what can only be described as an existential crisis. The party’s most potent asset – its claim to be fundamentally different from every other party – has been badly eroded.
The expansion ambitions in Gujarat, already modest, now risk being shelved entirely as the party turns inward to manage its own fractures.
The Road Ahead
There is one more development worth watching: Kejriwal’s wife has begun taking a more visible public role, raising inevitable comparisons to Kalpana Soren’s emergence in the JMM following Hemant Soren’s legal troubles. Whether this signals a dynastic contingency plan or merely spousal solidarity, it chips further at AAP’s founding mythology.
Kejriwal built something genuinely remarkable from a public movement. But movements require oxygen – dissent, debate, and distributed leadership. What AAP has now is a closed room with one man at the centre. The road ahead is not just politically challenging; it demands serious introspection from a leader who must decide whether he wants to lead a party or run a one-man show. History suggests the latter rarely outlasts the man himself.
(Amitabh Tiwari is a political strategist and commentator. In his earlier avatar, he was a corporate and investment banker)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author
