India’s political alphabet begins with ‘S’, and ends with self‑interest

The tragedy is not that politicians misuse language. The tragedy is that citizens no longer recognise it. We mistake theatre for truth, piety for policy, and shouting for service.

In today’s India, politicians pretend to care for the country by worshipping a single alphabet — S. Every slogan, every scheme, every speech begins with it. It has become the sacred consonant of power. But behind each ‘S’ hides hypocrisy — a word that also begins with S.

S for Seva — service or transaction?

Politicians love to speak of seva, service to the nation. They fold their hands, touch feet, inaugurate temples, hospitals, and toilets, all in the name of seva. But in the karmic worldview of Hinduism, seva is never free. It is either the repayment of a past debt or the creation of a new one. When you help someone, you bind yourself or them. Every act of seva carries an invisible thread of obligation.

In politics, seva is the most profitable investment. Today’s ‘service’ becomes tomorrow’s loyalty. Every job given, every contract approved, every favour extended — all are presented as selfless seva but are in fact social bookkeeping. Seva has become a spiritual disguise for transactional politics.

S for Swadhyaya — The lost art of self-study

The second ‘S’ stands for swadhyaya, self-study or introspection. This is the rarest quality in politics. To look inward is dangerous; it reveals naked ambition. It exposes how the ‘public servant’ uses the language of sacrifice to hide greed.

If our leaders truly practised swadhyaya, they would ask uncomfortable questions: Why do my unqualified children occupy positions of privilege in government enterprises? Why do my relatives become billionaires while I am in office? Why do I call myself a servant of the people but behave like a king?

But self-reflection has no place in the modern political syllabus. The moment a leader looks inward, the myth collapses. And so, swadhyaya is quietly replaced by swang — performance.

S for Sadhana — practice or manipulation

The third ‘S’ is sadhana — disciplined practice. Every art, from music to governance, demands practice. But our politicians are not practitioners of administration; they are masters of manipulation. Their only sadhana is the art of winning elections.

To win, you need money. And once you win, you spend your term recovering that money — generating wealth to buy the next election, to insure yourself against defeat, to feed your party, your family, your image. Governance becomes an afterthought. Policy is reduced to photo-op. The politician practises not raj dharma but raj marketing.

The true sadhaka repeats a mantra to discipline the mind; the modern leader repeats slogans to hypnotise the masses.

S for Swadeshi — Make in India, wear from abroad

Then comes the fashionable ‘S’ — swadeshi. ‘Make in India’, they thunder, as they step out of imported cars wearing Italian shoes, Swiss watches, and American glasses.

They insist that ordinary citizens must ‘buy Indian’. But when it comes to their own comforts, patriotism ends at the airport duty-free shop. The rhetoric of swadeshi becomes a costume, stitched abroad, and worn at home.

The contradiction is almost comic. The bureaucrat who bans foreign brands writes the order on a laptop made in China. The minister who champions local textiles drapes imported silk. Their nationalism is skin-deep — and that skin is moisturised by international luxury brands.

S for Sanatan — The politics of eternity

The next ‘S’ stands for sanatan — the eternal. In theory, Sanatan Dharma refers to timeless values like truth, compassion, and harmony. But today, it has been twisted into a slogan of eternal rage. It has become a way to erase history and justify vengeance.

When something is declared sanatan, it becomes unquestionable. It no longer evolves, it ossifies. This ‘ternalism’ is used to silence debate, to deny change, to glorify anger. Films of revenge are marketed as dharma-yuddha, or righteous war. Hate is rebranded as heritage. Violence is renamed virtue.

To claim that something is eternal is to deny the passage of time, to deny the human capacity for growth. The new sanatan is not about timeless wisdom — it is about timeless resentment.

S for Sattvik — The monopoly of purity

Finally, we reach the ultimate S — sattvik. Once a philosophical term for clarity and balance, it is now a culinary weapon. The sattvik lobby decides what India should eat. It insists that vegetarianism equals virtue, and that purity lies on the plate. But this purity comes from privilege. The top 1% of India — those who control most of the nation’s wealth — happen to be vegetarian. They now project their dietary habits as moral standards. Tribals, Dalits, and pastoral communities who eat meat or fish are shamed, labelled impure, or coerced into conformity.

The tragedy is not that politicians misuse language — that has always happened. The tragedy is that citizens no longer recognise it. We mistake theatre for truth, piety for policy, and shouting for service. The alphabet of civilisation begins with A — awareness. But the alphabet of politics begins with S — self-interest disguised as sanctity.

Devdutt Pattanaik is the author of more than 50 books on mythology. X: @devduttmyth.

Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.