By Leander Lyngwa
A disturbing video circulated widely on social media last week: a driver being verbally abused, slapped, and threatened by a man who, through his language, demeanour, and threats, including references to a firearm, led many viewers to initially believe he was a police officer. The language was vulgar, the aggression unmistakable, and the imbalance of power deeply uncomfortable to watch. Public outrage was immediate, not only because of the violence, but because viewers believed the perpetrator to be a representative of the law.
It later emerged that the individual was not a police officer, but a civilian. Information circulating in the public domain has also pointed to his proximity to political circles, including familial links to a former member of the Khasi Hills Autonomous District Council (KHADC), who belongs to the National People’s Party (NPP).
In many ways, these details do little to soften the core concern. If anything, they sharpen it. What the public reacted to was not merely the uniform, but the attitude. It was an unmistakable display of authority, entitlement, and presumed immunity.
This incident raises a deeper question: What makes an individual believe they can threaten, humiliate, and physically assault another person, seemingly unafraid of consequences? The answer may not lie in the individual alone, but in the broader political culture that shapes such behaviour.
Power and the Perception of Impunity
Across India, the criminalisation of politics and the normalization of strong-arm behaviour have become persistent concerns, cutting across party lines. Data from organisations such as the Association for Democratic Reforms (ADR) have consistently highlighted the presence of elected representatives with serious criminal allegations, raising uncomfortable questions about the standards of leadership within governance.
In public discourse, certain parties, particularly those with highly visible and assertive grassroots networks have increasingly come to be associated, fairly or unfairly, with a culture of aggressive political assertion.
When individuals with questionable reputations or overtly aggressive public personas find space and legitimacy within political ecosystems, it sends a signal, whether intentional or not, that power can shield behaviour. Over time, this blurs the line between authority and impunity, not just for those within the system, but also for those who orbit around it.
The NPP’s Expansion and the Question of Standards
These national patterns find a quieter, but no less significant, reflection in Meghalaya’s political landscape. Since 2018, the NPP has emerged as the state’s dominant political force, consolidating its position further after returning to power in 2023. With dominance comes gravitational pull. Leaders from across the political spectrum have, over time, gravitated towards the ruling party, drawn by the promise of relevance, access, and influence.
The NPP’s approach has increasingly appeared to be one of broad accommodation, absorbing politicians from across the spectrum and integrating them into its fold, often through the distribution of roles and positions within the party structure.
While this strategy may strengthen political stability and numerical dominance, it also raises concerns. When inclusion becomes expansive rather than selective, the boundaries that define a party’s internal standards, its expectations of conduct, discipline, and public accountability, can begin to blur.
It is within this blurring that perception begins to shift. A party is not only defined by its leadership, but also by the individuals it accommodates and the behaviour it appears willing to tolerate. When figures known for abrasive conduct or strong-arm tendencies are seen operating within, or in close proximity to, the political establishment, their presence does not remain isolated. It becomes associated with the party itself.
Over time, such associations can reshape a party’s public identity. For a party like the NPP, which in 2018 was widely perceived as a vehicle of change and a departure from entrenched political patterns, the risk lies in gradual transformation.
A Demand for Dignity in Politics
It is equally telling that there has been a visible appetite among sections of the electorate for alternatives that project a different kind of political culture. The previous parliamentary election outcome, which saw the Voice of the People Party (VPP) secure a decisive victory, reflected more than just electoral arithmetic. It pointed to a shift in what voters are beginning to value.
The appeal of such alternatives lies not merely in opposition, but in perception. Candidates associated with respectable professional backgrounds, public credibility, and relatively restrained public conduct have come to embody a contrasting political image, one that emphasises dignity over dominance. This is not simply the rise of a new party, but an indication that a section of the public is actively responding to how power is displayed, and choosing to reward those who appear to exercise it with restraint.
The viral video that sparked outrage may, in time, fade from public memory. But the questions it has raised should not. At its core, this was never just about one individual’s conduct. It was about the confidence with which that conduct was displayed. A confidence that suggests not fear of consequence, but familiarity with power.
For a party like the NPP, which has successfully positioned itself as the central pillar of governance in Meghalaya, this presents both an opportunity and a warning. The opportunity lies in setting a higher standard by demonstrating that growth does not come at the expense of discipline, and that power is anchored in accountability. The warning is equally clear. Public perception is fragile, and once a party begins to be associated with arrogance or unchecked behaviour, that perception can be difficult to reverse, and even harder to outgrow.
