The limits of Modi’s mirage by Avani Devi

Narendra Modi has built a political brand around inevitability. Every election victory is framed not merely as a democratic success but as proof that India itself has fused with his image of muscular nationalism, centralized authority and relentless economic ambition. A victory for Modi’s party in West Bengal, India’s fourth-most-populous state, would inevitably be packaged as another coronation for the prime minister who has spent a decade presenting himself as the embodiment of a rising superpower.

The propaganda machine surrounding Modi is remarkably disciplined. Government allies, television networks and online supporters repeat the same message with near religious devotion: India is living through its strongest era in modern history. The country is portrayed as economically unstoppable, diplomatically untouchable and culturally resurgent. Glittering summits, giant infrastructure projects and carefully staged photo opportunities are meant to signal confidence to both domestic voters and international investors.

But propaganda eventually collides with the supermarket bill. For millions of ordinary Indians, the national mood is not shaped by triumphant speeches or choreographed campaign rallies. It is shaped by the price of cooking oil, vegetables, school fees and fuel. Inflation has a brutal way of puncturing political mythology because it reaches directly into kitchens and wallets. Citizens can be persuaded to tolerate ideological excesses, democratic erosion and even religious polarization for a time if they believe prosperity is arriving. Yet when daily life becomes more expensive and salaries fail to keep pace, slogans begin to sound hollow.

The weakness of the rupee adds another layer of discomfort. Governments can spin currency declines as temporary global turbulence, but people understand instinctively what a weaker currency means. Imported goods cost more. Travel becomes harder. Savings feel smaller. Economic anxiety spreads quietly but persistently through households already stretched by uneven growth and stubborn unemployment.

This is the contradiction at the heart of the Modi era. India undeniably has areas of impressive growth and technological advancement. The country is expanding its infrastructure rapidly, attracting foreign investment and asserting itself on the world stage with greater confidence than before. But macroeconomic statistics are not the same as lived prosperity. A nation can boast soaring stock markets while millions struggle to afford basic necessities.

Modi’s political genius has always been his ability to transform perception into reality. He understands television better than many television producers. He understands symbolism better than many historians. Most importantly, he understands that modern politics rewards emotional narratives over economic nuance. Supporters are encouraged to feel proud before they are encouraged to ask questions.

Yet pride alone cannot stabilize household finances. West Bengal matters because it represents more than another electoral trophy. It is a test of whether Modi’s carefully cultivated image can still overpower economic frustration among voters who increasingly measure success not by nationalist rhetoric but by personal financial security. Strongmen thrive when citizens believe strength is delivering results. They become vulnerable when the gap between image and experience grows too wide to ignore.

Eventually every political brand faces the same unforgiving question: Are people actually living better, or are they simply being told they are?

In the long run, no amount of televised triumph can permanently conceal the resentment produced by shrinking purchasing power. Economic reality may not defeat Modi immediately, but it remains the one opponent propaganda cannot intimidate