People have been trained to expect nothing better
Trump’s fixation on the Nobel Peace Prize and the restless churn of Bihar’s elections may seem like two different stages. Yet, they expose the same uncomfortable truth: popularity does not equal progress.
Let’s be brutally clear about the Nobel Peace Prize. Alfred Nobel’s will outlines three crucial criteria, and it is the third—the promotion of “peace congresses”—that Machado embodies and Trump utterly misses. This criterion is not just about brokering a temporary ceasefire; it is about building the foundations of stable, legitimate governance that precludes war. Machado, in Venezuela, risked her very life to resist authoritarianism. She fought not with weapons or rhetoric but with courage, consensus, and a relentless defence of the ballot box. She did not negotiate peace from podiums—she lived it in courtrooms, on the streets, in the hearts of citizens who yearned for dignity. Trump thrived on confrontation; Machado thrived on dialogue.
Trump, in contrast, spent his time touting deals he claimed to have closed, prioritising personal credit and geopolitical manoeuvring. He is the master of the transaction, but peace is not a transaction; it is a culture. The Nobel Committee, in choosing a figure who is literally on the ground, fighting for the integrity of the ballot box, delivered a devastating verdict: authentic, structural peace work is not about the grandstanding ego; it is about the quiet, unyielding struggle for democratic justice.3
He sought applause; she sought freedom. That is why history will remember her with the Nobel and him with noise.
Now, pivot your gaze to the relentless political churn of Bihar. The state is once again on the brink of an election, and what do we see? The same faces, the same alliances, the same promises repackaged with new slogans. The popular choices—be it the incumbent alliance or the primary opposition—too often represent different shades of the same inertia.
For decades, voters here have been sold the idea that change comes from switching between familiar faces. Alliances collapse, coalitions reshape, slogans rebrand failure—but the facts stay the same. Bihar continues to stand near the bottom in per capita income. Migration remains a lifeline rather than a choice, with thousands boarding trains to Delhi, Mumbai, or the Gulf in search of survival, not dreams. The literacy rate is still below the national average, unemployment haunts the youth, healthcare is fragile, and floods remain mismanaged. Every five years, the same parties return with promises painted in new colours, and every five years, the ground beneath remains unchanged.
This is not democracy in motion; this is democracy in paralysis.
If Nobel prizes are not handed out for hollow gestures, why should votes be? If Machado could dare to break the suffocating cycle of submission, why should the people of Bihar accept recycled leadership that has failed them time and again? Democracy is not just the act of casting a ballot; it is the courage to use that ballot as a weapon of refusal.
Look to Punjab for a recent reminder. Tired of the entrenched duopoly, voters there shocked the establishment by choosing differently. Whether or not that new government has been perfect is not the point. The point is that voters refused to be trapped by inevitability. Their act of defiance sent tremors through every political corridor, forcing leaders to understand that votes are not inherited—they must be earned.
Bihar, too, must rise above the illusion of inevitability. The tragedy is not that leaders have betrayed the people, but that the people have been trained to expect nothing better. Poverty here is not destiny—it is the direct outcome of political failure. Migration is not natural—it is forced by neglect. And caste arithmetic is not democracy—it is manipulation dressed as representation.
The world recognised Machado not because she was popular, but because she was principled. She challenged power instead of bowing to it. Bihar must take the same lesson to its ballot box. Recognition belongs not to those who shout the loudest, but to those who embody courage, vision, and sacrifice.
Continuing to elect the same faces with different masks is to accept the same story with different headlines. Bihar deserves better, but it must demand better. To rise, to resist, and to reject the comfort of decay disguised as leadership is no longer a choice—it is a moral imperative. Refusing to vote for the darkness of the status quo is not rebellion; it is survival.
