Manmohan Singh’s passing marks the end of an era that embraced, yet also tested, the boundaries of India’s democracy. Over decades of public service, he represented the confluence of measured economic pragmatism, a quiet but resolute leadership style, and an approach to social democracy that favoured incremental reforms over sudden upheavals. This equilibrium – sometimes critiqued by those who sought more radical alternatives – allowed him to navigate India through a series of political, economic, and social crossroads.
Born in pre-Partition Punjab, Singh’s formative experiences were shaped by upheaval, religious minority status, and the loss of his mother in childhood. Raised by a stepmother and propelled forward by a fierce dedication to education, he emerged as one of India’s foremost technocrats. This trajectory stood in contrast to the more conventional mass-politics route: never directly elected to the Lok Sabha, he rose through the Rajya Sabha and was backed by a political establishment increasingly cautious of populist strongmen. This very paradox – where a democracy lauds expertise but sometimes lacks widespread grassroots engagement – underscored Singh’s unique position in Indian politics.
Singh’s political prominence was, in part, a legacy of Indira Gandhi’s government and the committees she established, which included figures like L.K. Jha, Abid Hussain, N. Narasimhan, Montek Singh Ahluwalia, and Singh himself. These technocrats, often armed with global academic credentials, came to wield considerable influence over policy. By the 1980s, India’s socialist underpinnings were in tension with mounting economic pressures, pushing the state toward liberalisation. Within the Congress party, the socialist wing steadily weakened, creating space for individuals like Singh – whose expertise in economics made him a natural choice to spearhead new economic directions.
Appointed finance minister in the early 1990s, Singh initiated reforms that not only liberalised the Indian economy but also aimed to preserve a “human face” within this transition. His subsequent ascension to the prime ministership was emblematic of a system that, despite its flaws, could elevate a Sikh, non-Hindi-speaking minority figure to the nation’s highest office – challenging assumptions about majoritarian dominance.
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Throughout his tenure, Singh advocated a social-democratic framework – gradual yet meaningful measures designed to integrate broader social welfare into market-oriented reforms. He oversaw the consolidation of initiatives like Aadhaar and the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act (MGNREGA). Initially dismissed by critics as elitist or unsustainable, these programmes have since garnered bipartisan acceptance.
Importantly, emerging research from scholars such as James Manor indicates that MGNREGA, coupled with schemes like the Minimum Support Price (MSP), did more than just address rural poverty. By setting floor prices for agricultural produce and rural wages, such initiatives began to subvert entrenched caste hierarchies in India’s countryside, allowing marginalised communities greater bargaining power. Over time, MGNREGA became symbolic of how incremental state interventions could shift rural power dynamics, reinforcing Singh’s belief that economic advancement must be accompanied by tangible social justice mechanisms.
While many of his hallmark schemes targeted rural upliftment, Singh’s broader reforms also profoundly affected India’s burgeoning middle class. Economic liberalisation in the 1990s and its subsequent consolidation led to higher GDP growth, an expanded private sector, and new global market opportunities – transformations that boosted urban employment and swelled the ranks of white-collar professionals.
Crucially, Singh himself can be seen as an emblem of middle-class aspiration. His journey from a modest childhood to the nation’s highest office underscored the idea that education and professional expertise could break traditional barriers. His policies – ranging from higher-education reforms to the encouragement of IT and service industries – reinforced this ethos by providing broader avenues for social and economic mobility. Such an environment often proves conducive to entrepreneurial growth and aspirational living, both integral to a thriving middle class.
Challenges and critiques
Singh’s approach, however, was not without dissent. A few Left factions consistently rebuked his push for liberalisation, arguing it prioritised corporate interests at the expense of grassroots needs. Others noted that, despite his personal integrity, his brand of technocratic governance sometimes minimised public consultation, fuelling scepticism about whether the benefits of reforms truly reached those at the margins. The question of democratic accountability also loomed large.
While Singh championed the Right to Information Act – a crucial tool for citizen oversight – his understated style often gave the impression that pivotal decisions emerged from closed-door deliberations rather than transparent, broad-based discourse. Notwithstanding the higher number of bills referred to parliamentary committees, these contradictions reflect an India grappling with whether to privilege expert-led governance or a more populist, participatory model.
Even his critics rarely question Singh’s personal story of social mobility. From a Partition refugee to the highest executive office, he symbolised the triumph of education and merit over adversity. Singh’s calm demeanour, disciplined integrity, and deep respect for democratic institutions ensured that India did not follow the path of other South Asian nations undermined by military takeovers or political volatility.
An instructive contrast is Pervez Musharraf in neighbouring Pakistan – also born in pre-Partition India – whose rule ultimately exemplified the fragility of democracy. By contrast, Singh helped anchor and, in some ways, strengthen democratic processes, ensuring no catastrophic slide into authoritarianism occurred under his watch. His quiet confidence in history’s verdict was famously encapsulated when he remarked that “history will be kinder to me” than contemporary critics. In retrospect, those words seem prescient.
Initiatives once derided – from Aadhaar to MGNREGA – are now cornerstones of India’s social safety architecture, widely accepted and celebrated across party lines. Moreover, schemes like MSP continue to foster more equitable economic relationships and a social safety net in turbulent times like demonetisation and the COVID-19 pandemic in rural India.
Also read: The One Mistake Manmohan Singh Made on the Economic Front Cost Him — and the Congress — Dearly
Manmohan Singh’s passing invites a renewed appraisal of the Indian democratic experiment. He embodied the paradoxes and possibilities of a vast, pluralistic nation – where expertise can be lauded, minorities can ascend to power, yet genuine grassroots engagement remains sporadic. Balancing social equity, economic pragmatism, and the daily aspirations of millions, he left a legacy that transcends partisan divides. As India reflects on his life and works, it must also grapple with the enduring questions his career raised: Can technocratic leadership remain participatory? How does one preserve the “human face” of liberalisation amidst relentless market forces?
In pondering these dilemmas, the country honours a leader whose deft navigation of competing imperatives – social justice, economic reform, and democratic principles – helped redefine the trajectory of modern India. His story stands as a testament to what a diverse, if not-so-perfect, democracy can achieve when it accords space for learning, integrity, and a carefully calibrated approach to transformation.
Vivek Gananathan, a journalist based in Chennai, works on critical intersections of politics and society.
Vignesh Karthik K.R. is a postdoctoral research fellow of Indian and Indonesian Politics at the Royal Netherlands Institute of Southeast Asian and Caribbean Studies – Leiden, and a research affiliate at King’s India Institute, King’s College London.
This piece was first published on The India Cable – a premium newsletter from The Wire & Galileo Ideas – and has been updated and republished here. To subscribe to The India Cable, click here.
