As we gear up for the election season in Jammu and Kashmir, it’s impossible to ignore the sudden influx of unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar logos flooding our political landscape. It’s a spectacle we’ve seen before, and one we’re doomed to witness again, right up until October 4th—the day of counting. These characters, who show up with grandiose promises and slick campaigns, often pull a great disappearing act as soon as the last vote is tallied. But this year, there’s a new twist to the old routine: the franchising of political parties.
In Jammu and Kashmir, a new trend has emerged where political parties from other states—be it Maharashtra, Gujarat, Bihar, Delhi, or Tamil Nadu—decide to open up shop right here in Srinagar. It’s like they’re setting up a new branch of a fast-food chain, only instead of burgers, they’re serving up political dreams. These franchise operations come complete with flashy headquarters, slogans in perfect Urdu, and a handful of local “leaders” who, with their fancy attire, try to convince the youth that they’re the next big thing in politics.
It’s almost like a reality TV show, where these franchises promise young, impressionable voters that they can become the next political superstar. The pitch is simple: join the party, contest the election, and if you’re lucky, the government will even foot the bill! Of course, what they don’t tell these enthusiastic youngsters is the reality of what happens after the election. Many of them, instead of basking in the glory of political success, find themselves drowning in debt, the price of their brief moment in the sun.
The franchising of political parties in Jammu and Kashmir is both fascinating and deeply troubling. On the one hand, it’s a sign of how the region is being increasingly seen as a ripe market for political investment. On the other hand, it’s a clear indication of how disconnected these parties are from the ground realities here. They treat politics like a business, setting up branches wherever there’s potential for profit, without any real understanding or commitment to the local issues that matter most to the people.
These political franchises bring with them a style and rhetoric that often feels out of place in the unique socio-political landscape of Jammu and Kashmir. The imported leaders they field may speak the local language, but they often lack the deep-rooted understanding of the region’s complexities. And while they might manage to gather a crowd with their flashy campaigns and fancy slogans, their promises often ring hollow to those who have seen this game played out before.
One of the most disturbing aspects of this franchise phenomenon is the way it preys on the aspirations of young voters. In a region where unemployment is high and opportunities are few, the promise of a political career can be incredibly alluring. These franchises tap into that desire, offering a quick route to power and influence. But what they fail to prepare these young aspirants for is the harsh reality of electoral politics—the long hours, the relentless campaigning, and the cutthroat competition. More often than not, these young leaders end up as pawns in a larger game, used to siphon off votes and then discarded once the election is over.
This brings us back to the phenomenon of the disappearing politicians. Every election season, like clockwork, we see the emergence of a new crop of candidates—some backed by these political franchises, others independent—who promise to bring change, to fix the system, to be the voice of the people. But once the election is over, most of them vanish, leaving behind little more than campaign posters and unfulfilled promises. They are seasonal politicians, who appear only when it’s time to contest an election and disappear just as quickly, only to resurface when the next election cycle begins.
This is not just a problem of political opportunism; it’s a serious issue of accountability. When politicians disappear after elections, it leaves a vacuum in governance. The promises they made are forgotten, the projects they started are abandoned, and the people who voted for them are left without representation. It creates a cycle of cynicism and disillusionment, where voters feel that their voices don’t matter, and that no matter who they vote for, nothing will change.
The franchising of political parties adds another layer to this problem. When parties set up shop in Jammu and Kashmir without a long-term commitment, they contribute to this cycle of disengagement. They come in, make a splash, and then leave, with little thought to the lasting impact of their actions. And the young leaders they leave behind, burdened with debt and disillusionment, are left to pick up the pieces.
So, as we head into this election season, it’s important for voters in Jammu and Kashmir to be wary of these political franchises and seasonal politicians. We must ask ourselves: who are these candidates? What do they really stand for? And most importantly, where will they be on October 5th, the day after the votes are counted? Will they be there to serve us, or will they have already packed up and left, waiting for the next election season to roll around?
The answers to these questions will determine the future of our region. It’s time we demand more from our politicians—more commitment, more accountability, and more long-term engagement. Because if we continue to let these seasonal politicians and franchise parties dominate our elections, we risk turning our democracy into nothing more than a revolving door of empty promises and disappearing leaders.
