Political characterisations in India have long relied more on narrative than on evidence. Of all such narratives, none has endured as stubbornly as the portrayal of Dr Manmohan Singh as a “puppet Prime Minister.” During his decade in office (2004–2014), Singh was mocked for allegedly being beholden to the Congress high command, especially to Sonia Gandhi, who, as UPA chairperson and Member of Parliament, was said to wield “real power” from behind the scenes.
Yet, with historical distance, this accusation reveals more about Indian political culture than about the man himself. The UPA’s structure diffused power among the Prime Minister’s Office, the party leadership, and coalition partners, yet it remained rooted in institutional deliberation and accountability.
Post-2014, the NDA’s centralisation replaced consultation, raising concerns about democratic erosion and the embedding of corporate influence in state power.
If proximity to power defines puppetry, perhaps the labels were misapplied from the start.
The UPA Era: Consensus Amid Contradiction
When Dr Manmohan Singh assumed office in 2004, the Congress-led UPA held 218 seats in the Lok Sabha, far short of a majority, relying on support from Left parties and regional allies. Singh’s legitimacy rested on moral credibility, not electoral muscle. This fragility created the so-called “dual authority” problem, which undermined political stability by highlighting Sonia Gandhi’s political leadership versus Singh’s administrative role, affecting perceptions of governance legitimacy.
The National Advisory Council (NAC), chaired by Sonia Gandhi, became emblematic of this dualism. It oversaw the enactment of rights-based legislation, including the National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (2005), the Right to Information Act (2005), and the Food Security Act (2013). Far from being unconstitutional, the NAC served as a negotiated interface between civil society and governance, an arrangement often derided by critics but rare in its inclusivity.
This constant negotiation slowed decision-making but ensured deliberation. In a multiparty coalition, dissent was procedural rather than penalised. Parliament functioned actively: between 2004 and 2009, it met for an average of 70 days annually, compared with about 60 days in the post-2014 period (PRS Legislative Research, 2024).
India’s GDP growth averaged 8.1% between 2004 and 2011 (IMF WEO, 2020), the fastest sustained expansion in independent India. The poverty headcount ratio declined from 37.2% in 2004–05 to 21.9% in 2011–12 (Planning Commission estimates). These gains coincided with fiscal prudence: the fiscal deficit fell from 4.3% of GDP in 2003–04 to 2.5% in 2007–08, before the global financial crisis necessitated stimulus spending.
The numbers changed when the matrix for determination was modified to improve the appearance.
Coalition politics limited major structural reform; corporate taxation and land acquisition stagnated, but labour codes remained pluralistic, providing a balance. Civil society scrutiny was robust, and multiple centres of authority, the media, the judiciary, and the bureaucracy, functioned with relative independence, shaping policy debates and maintaining institutional checks during this period.
Singh’s government was embattled by corruption allegations, but those very exposures also reflected an ecosystem that still permitted institutional accountability.
However, over the past decade, all the corruption cases fell by the wayside as the Supreme Court chastised the Enforcement Directorate for its inability to present evidence. However, the damage had been done, and the ruling dispensation had achieved its political aims.
Economic Stewardship and Sustainability
Beyond macroeconomic growth, the UPA’s signature was the rights-based welfare state. By 2010–11, schemes such as MGNREGA (the name has since been changed), which guaranteed 100 days of rural employment, had reached five crore households annually. The Right to Education Act (2009) expanded access dramatically, raising the gross enrollment ratio (GER) at the primary level from 96% (2003–04) to 115% (2012–13).
Critics argued that such programmes were fiscally burdensome; yet by 2013, India’s debt-to-GDP ratio (49.5%) remained lower than that of many emerging economies (World Bank, 2014). Singh’s stewardship combined neoliberal reforms with social safety nets, a hybrid growth model that cushioned India during the 2008 financial crisis, unlike many peers.
Singh’s vulnerability was political, not economic. His calibrated leadership prioritised consensus over charisma, which clashed with India’s growing appetite for populist authority. This created fertile ground for Modi’s majoritarian and managerial narrative, promising not deliberation but decisiveness.
The NDA Era: Centralisation and Corporate Symbiosis
When Narendra Modi came to power in 2014, the BJP secured an absolute majority (282 seats). For the first time in 30 years, coalition constraints vanished. Decision-making was re-centralised in the PMO, with bureaucratic authority routed through political appointees, thereby embedding corporate and executive control more deeply within governance.
The Public Enterprises Survey (2023) indicates that, post-2014, public-sector disinvestment exceeded ₹5.5 lakh crore, with bulk acquisitions favouring a limited set of private conglomerates. By 2020, the Adani Group’s market capitalisation had grown 20-fold, and Reliance Industries’ telecom arm (Jio) commanded over 37% of India’s mobile subscriber base (TRAI, 2023).
Policies such as the Insolvency and Bankruptcy Code (2016), the Goods and Services Tax (2017), and the Production-Linked Incentive (PLI) schemes streamlined compliance, but regulatory indulgence in critical sectors raised concerns about crony capitalism. The top five corporate groups now account for 18% of industrial output, reflecting growing economic concentration and dependence.
This concentration accelerated after the COVID-19 pandemic, when public spending supported a handful of conglomerates in the renewable energy, logistics, and digital infrastructure sectors. Corporate indebtedness became politicised, critics flagged differential treatment in loan restructuring, and investigative scrutiny appeared selective, often aligning with electoral cycles.
The irony is stark: the UPA was derided for political dependence; the NDA reflects economic dependence camouflaged as efficiency.
The Political Economy of Silence
The post-2014 transformation extended beyond economics. Institutional independence receded across multiple dimensions. Freedom House’s Democracy Index downgraded India from “Free” (2014) to “Partly Free” (2023), signalling a decline in democratic health. The World Press Freedom Index (Reporters Without Borders) also fell from 140th (2014) to 161st (2023), reflecting increased restrictions on media freedom and dissent.
This decline correlates with the state’s expanding control over narrative infrastructures. A 2022 Oxfam report found that 75% of Indian news media ownership was concentrated among conglomerates with significant government contracts.
Investigative bodies, including the CBI, the ED, and the Income Tax Department, increasingly targeted political opponents and dissenters.
The 2020 amendment to the Foreign Contribution Regulation Act (FCRA) restricted NGO funding, resulting in over 11,000 NGO licences being cancelled by 2023 (MHA data). Civil society, academia, and journalism, the very institutions that once constrained the executive, now operate under pervasive self-censorship.
Under the UPA, Singh was undermined by cacophony; under the NDA, Modi thrives amid orchestrated quiet. This silence, not opposition, defines India’s new political equilibrium.
The Myth of Sovereignty and the Politics of Proximity
Power, under both regimes, was relational. The difference lies in its locus. Singh’s dependence was politically accountable to the party structure, coalition ethics, and institutional norms. Modi’s dependence is transactional, mediated by capital, corporate alliances, and information control.
The machinery of the state has been re-engineered to serve narrative construction as much as governance. The flow of power is vertical and media-amplified. Political sovereignty, once diffused horizontally through parties and Parliament, is now concentrated in a single executive node, supported by economic oligarchs and administrative loyalty.
What changed, therefore, is not the existence of puppetry but its visibility. Singh’s parliamentary and party oversight was transparent; Modi’s is invisible, embedded in market mechanisms, regulatory discretion, and patronage networks.
Democratic Costs of Centralisation
Centralisation has undeniably improved administrative speed; the rollout of digital governance, Direct Benefit Transfers, and COVID-19 vaccination drives is a notable achievement. Yet, democratic institutions are designed not merely for efficiency but also for contestation.
India’s legislative productivity has improved numerically: more bills are passed, but the average debate duration per bill has fallen by nearly 60% since 2014 (PRS, 2024). Simultaneously, the judiciary faces executive overreach: the Collegium system has repeatedly been confronted with government non-cooperation in judicial appointments, creating systemic uncertainty.
The erosion of institutional independence manifests subtly: data revisions timed to electoral narratives, muted official statistics, and diluted Parliamentary standing committees. Centralisation substitutes consensus-building for unilateral policy, governance by decree under a democratic guise.
Conclusion: From Puppetry to Patronage
The journey from Singh to Modi marks not a liberation from weakness but a transformation of dependency. The UPA’s fragmented authority diffused power through consultation; the NDA’s consolidated authority internalised it within corporate and executive nodes.
Each model offered trade-offs: Singh’s India was deliberative but disorderly; Modi’s is decisive but has ignored dissent. The question is not who was the puppet, Singh or Modi, but who holds the strings of India’s power today.
Democracy thrives where institutions can resist authority. The genius of Singh’s tenure lay in his acceptance of limitations; the risk of Modi’s lies lay in his denial of them. For a nation aspiring to global leadership, this silent trade, pluralism for control, and accountability for allegiance, may prove the deeper cost of our political evolution.