The secret of Sukhbir's speedy rehabilitation

On the eve of Baisakhi, a date deeply symbolic in Punjab’s cultural calendar, Sukhbir Singh Badal was back as president of the Shiromani Akali Dal (Badal)—unanimously re-elected five months after he had stepped down. For the 105-year old party, this moment could be interpreted as either a new beginning or a final attempt at survival in the face of . The past year has been the worst in the party’s recent history: a crushing defeat in the Lok Sabha elections, open revolts, a religious reprimand from the Akal Takht, an on Sukhbir and an unprecedented directive by the Sikh clergy to overhaul the party’s structure.

Initially rattled, Sukhbir struck back. Defying the Akal Takht, he used the SGPC to sack top jathedars, sidelined senior dissenters like Sukhdev Singh Dhindsa, Prem Singh Chandumajra, Jagir Kaur and Manpreet Ayali, and sent a clear message that he was back in the driving seat.

At the Baisakhi rally in Talwandi Sabo, he outlined a sharp ideological repositioning. The Akali Dal, he declared, would now be a Punjab- and Panth-first party, distinct from “outsiders” like the BJP, AAP and Congress. He accused the BJP of conspiring with rebel leaders to weaken SAD and promised to reclaim Sikh institutions from non-Punjabi control.

His promises ranged from ending gangsterism and drugs to implementing welfare schemes and reserving government jobs for Punjabis—a clearly nativist turn aimed at reconnecting with the core electorate.

This rebranding effort was no coincidence. Sukhbir is acutely aware of the eroding Akali base. Once Punjab’s dominant party—in power thrice between 1997 and 2017—the SAD (Badal) is now a shadow of its former self. Its vote share has plunged from 35 per cent to just over 13 per cent, and its candidates lost deposits in 10 out of 13 Lok Sabha seats in 2024.

The party has shrunk into a semi regional force confined largely to rural south west Malwa. The decline is rooted in more than just electoral missteps. Under Sukhbir’s leadership, the party gradually shifted from ideology to pragmatism, from grassroots to ‘halqa in-charges’ and from Panthic politics to a ‘mafia-dominated’ patronage system. Its alliance with the BJP, while electorally rewarding for a time, came with a heavy price in credibility—particularly on issues like the farm laws and Article 370, tarnishing its pro-farmer and federal image.

Its blunders, like pardoning the Dera chief and Bargari killings, alienated the core Sikh vote. This disillusionment fed into the rise of new actors—Aam Aadmi Party, Simranjit Singh Mann’s SAD (Amritsar) and Amritpal Singh’s Waris Punjab De—who branded SAD (Badal) as a party of corrupt and morally bankrupt collaborators. The party’s inability to connect with the youth, NRIs and digital savvy voters further deepened its isolation. Even its core support base of Jat Sikh peasants has fragmented, now split between multiple Panthic, regional and national forces.

Yet, Sukhbir Badal remains indispensable to the Akali Dal—. He is the only leader with the organisational control, political acumen and financial heft to keep the party afloat. In contrast, Akali rebels lack charisma, resources and structure along with the taint of being BJP moles. His Panthic rivals, like the old warhorse Simranjit Mann or the young pretender Amritpal Singh, are either too extreme, too limited or too inexperienced to offer a sustainable alternative.

Sukhbir’s enduring significance is also rooted in history. He, along with his father Parkash Singh Badal, redefined Punjab’s regional politics by turning the Akali Dal from a sectarian force into a development oriented, welfare-driven party capable of appealing to Hindus, Dalits and rural voters alike.

Welfare schemes like ‘Atta Daal’ and ‘Shagun’, investments in rural infrastructure and tight control over SGPC institutions gave the party unmatched rural reach. The rupture with the BJP, often seen as a clean ideological break, is more complex. For decades, the Badals had a close and mutually beneficial relationship with the BJP— sharing governance, coordinating seat sharing and even aligning on many national issues.

It was a mutually beneficial arrangement with the urban Hindu BJP vote complementing the rural Akali votebank, which ensured that the Akalis formed stable governments and the BJP got a share of the pie. It was only under pressure from the farmers’ protest and the realisation that their own vote base was slipping away that the Badals walked out of the NDA in 2020.

At the same time, the more ruthless and pragmatic duo of Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Union home minister Amit Shah decided to undermine the Akalis in the same way they did the Shiv Sena in Maharashtra. They poached Akali leaders, controlled Sikh institutions outside Punjab, made overtures to jathedars and expanded the BJP in the state.

Sukhbir’s rupture with BJP is less about principle and more about political survival. Today, that survival hangs by a thread. Sukhbir may have reclaimed the president’s chair, but his party’s future is far from secure. It remains locked out of urban areas, where the BJP has aggressively poached its base.

In the countryside, it must contend with not just AAP and Congress, but also a resurgent Panthic sentiment. The SGPC, a long-time Akali stronghold, has also become a battlefield for legitimacy after the party’s clashes with the Akal Takht. Sukhbir’s strategy now appears to be to restore ideological clarity and re-establish the Akali Dal as Punjab’s sole regional voice.

His attacks on “outsiders” echo the playbooks of regional satraps elsewhere—drawing from the success of nativist parties in Tamil Nadu, West Bengal and Maharashtra. He hopes to tap into Punjabi pride, rural disenchantment and fatigue with Delhi-centric politics. He’s also banking on the fact that neither Mann nor Amritpal Singh nor the rebels can match the SAD’s cadre, resources or legacy. But for this strategy to succeed, much will depend on Sukhbir’s own ability to shed the baggage of the past.

That means truly empowering new leaders, reconnecting with youth and farmers, re-earning the trust of the religious institutions, hitting the streets and mastering the 24/7 digital narrative war that now defines politics. The Akali Dal must be seen not just as a party of the past, but as a credible option for Punjab’s future. The road ahead is narrow and fraught with risk. But if anyone can engineer a turnaround, it is still Sukhbir Singh Badal.

Not because he is universally loved, but because there’s no one else left in the party with the stature, skill or strength to take the wheel. In that sense, Sukhbir and the Akali Dal are bound together, not by choice, but by the desperation of a shared decline. As Punjab searches for a regional voice amid national churn, the Akali Dal has one last chance to rise. Whether this is Sukhbir’s finest hour—or simply the final flicker of a dying flame—remains to be seen.