In the weeks leading up to the 2026 assembly elections in politically sensitive northeast India's largest state, Assam experiences a well-known cycle of political turbulence - experienced politicians making last-minute party switches, hasty alliances being formed, longstanding party figures being denied tickets, and an overall sense of political drama. This all feels remarkably familiar, as the March-April air in Assam begins to sway to political rhythms and the inevitable, often scripted, last-minute pre-election drama. 

Opinion polls and political readings alike suggest that the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), pushed by a highly efficient organisational machinery and the political centrality of Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma, is widely expected to secure a comfortable return to power. And yet even if the result feels predictable, the politics leading up to it is anything but. The weeks leading up to this election have produced enough political treachery, ideological contortion, and sheer human drama to make the outcome feel almost secondary. This paradox of political upheaval on the surface and certainty underneath captures the essence of Assam’s current political moment.

While candidates switching sides is a common aspect of every election, the run-up to this election cycle has been striking for the steady stream of political veterans switching sides. The recent defection of Congress bigwig MP Pradyut Bordoloi to the BJP, after decades with the Congress, has sent ripples across the state’s political ecosystem. The shift of Bordoloi to the BJP reflects not just personal recalibration but also a broader erosion of ideological boundaries. Even more intriguing is the parallel stance within his own household - his son Prateek Bordoloi continuing as a Congress loyalist while withdrawing from the Margherita seat. 

Politics of Convenience Than Conviction

It points to a politics increasingly defined by convenience rather than conviction. One is left wondering whether these shifts are permanent or whether, as Assam’s political history often suggests, today’s realignments may well become tomorrow’s reversals. Alongside him, other senior leaders, including former Congress state chief Bhupen Kumar Borah, have also crossed over, signalling not just individual opportunism but a deeper erosion within the Congress ranks. 

The same has also been observed within the ruling party - the likes of Assam cabinet minister Nandita Gorlosa filing nomination from the Haflong Legislative Assembly constituency as a Congress candidate, after having denied a BJP ticket, Jayanta Das a senior party member resigning and planning to contest independently and also form a ‘Trinamool BJP’.

Amid this shifting terrain, one of the other interesting developments has been the positioning of Congress leader Gaurav Gogoi. Projected as the party’s chief ministerial face and contesting from Jorhat, Gogoi has been attempting to stitch together a broader opposition front, particularly in Upper Assam. For the Congress, this moment is both a crisis and an opportunity. Gaurav Gogoi’s increasing visibility in Upper Assam, along with his attempts to build alliances with regional players suggests a calculated reset. Yet, Gogoi’s politics continues to carry a certain restraint. In a political environment where assertiveness often defines relevance, his measured tone also risks being overshadowed. At best Gogoi is a thoughtful politician doing a careful job in a moment that demands fury. The question remains whether he can move beyond careful positioning to articulate a sharper, more compelling opposition narrative.  

Beyond fragmented alliances and intermittent messaging, there is little that effectively challenges the BJP’s narrative at scale. Regional parties like the Assam Jatiya Parishad (AJP) and Raijor Dal continue to make hollow promises of alternative political imaginations rooted in regional identity and the legacy of resistance movements. No doubt their limited organisational reach and fragmented positioning restrict their ability to emerge as decisive forces, but what their promises mean in terms of substance and concrete re-imagination of Assam requires more introspection.

At the same time, the BJP’s own internal dynamics reveal a different kind of flux. Ticket denials to party veterans reflect the party’s strategy and control rather than complacency, while also creating pockets of dissatisfaction that the party cannot entirely dismiss. This pruning of veterans, while risky, underscores the BJP’s confidence in its broader electoral machinery rather than individual charisma. At the same time, Congress loyalists see the switch of party leaders to the BJP as a much needed cleansing within the Congress party.

Polarisation as Political Tool 

Beneath the BJP’s carefully managed image of dominance, there are signs of quiet vulnerability. Infrastructure projects, welfare schemes, and apparent urban transformation - especially in Guwahati - form the backbone of its development narrative. Flyovers have risen at remarkable speed, altering the city’s skyline almost overnight. But beneath this rapid transformation lie uncomfortable questions. More importantly, the limits of its development narrative are beginning to show. While infrastructure projects and welfare schemes have been hurriedly inaugurated before the elections, questions around quality, transparency, and long-term sustainability are growing louder, especially when rushed constructions begin to falter almost immediately. 

There is also a subtle but perceptible fatigue with the continued reliance on polarisation as a political tool. Identity-based mobilisation, while effective in the short term, risks diminishing returns when overused. If these undercurrents - internal dissent, governance gaps, and narrative fatigue - begin to converge, they may not immediately overturn electoral outcomes, but they could signal the early stages of a more substantive political challenge to the BJP’s dominance in Assam. 

Is development becoming a spectacle, meant to be seen rather than sustained?  If so, then what lies beyond the optics? How long can the BJP sustain its development narrative without addressing deeper structural concerns? And how long can the Congress rely on cautious positioning without offering a compelling alternative?

Adding another layer to this political landscape is the emotive call for “Justice for Zubeen Garg.” While the slogan carries symbolic resonance, its political connotation and what it holds for the larger election narrative for both the party in power as well as the opposition remains quite uncertain. The narrative itself appears to be shifting, evolving in meaning and intensity, making it difficult to assess whether it will consolidate into a tangible electoral force or remain a fleeting expression of public sentiment.

Amid all this, one question lingers - what does this election mean for the ordinary citizenry? For many, elections are nothing more than cyclical rituals - moments of heightened rhetoric followed by familiar patterns of governance. Rising prices, employment uncertainties, and migration continue to shape everyday life, often disconnected from the grand narratives of development or identity. When global economic shifts affect local livelihoods, and when political transitions fail to translate into material change, the electoral process begins to feel less like a moment of choice and more like a continuation of inevitability.

Assam’s elections may once again produce a predictable result.  But the deeper question lies elsewhere - in the grim disillusionment of voters, the oscillating loyalties of leaders, and the uneasy coexistence of optics versus substance. The flyovers will still be there - cracking in the pre-monsoon showers, carrying traffic that didn't need to wait for an election, serving a city that deserved better than a deadline.

For the common citizen of Assam, this election offers a choice between a government that delivers polished optics but falls short on substantive and timely responses to structural needs versus an opposition that offers alternatives without urgency. That is not much of a choice. It is, however, a constitutional ritual. And in a democracy where rituals have been hollowed of consequence, performing them with full sincerity may be the most radical act left. The result, when it comes, may not surprise. The story of this election lies not in who wins, but in how Assam’s political imagination continues to be negotiated between power, identity, and the search for alternative futures.

(The author is an Independent Research Consultant based out of Mumbai. Views expressed are personal. She can be contacted at minakshibbaruah@gmail.com )