by Muhammad Mohsin Iqbal

Public life, especially in South Asia, has long been shaped by the uneasy intersection of personal morality, political authority, and the public’s expectation of virtue from those who govern. In recent days, Indian politics has been unsettled by a series of remarks posted on X (formerly Twitter) by veteran politician and economist Subramanian Swamy. In one such post, Swamy suggested that “It will be difficult for Modi to avoid the Blackmail of US and Modi, using the ugly sex revelations of Hardip Puri, Modi’s former Cabinet Minister. Modi claims to be a Brahmachari, but in truth he is a Bachelor who has had flings with women, willing or unwilling. The US agencies have the photos to blackmail. This hurts India’s national interests”.

The idea that the personal life of a national leader might intersect with matters of state is neither new nor unique to India. Yet Swamy’s intervention carries weight because it comes from a figure long known for his insider knowledge, frankness, and unpredictability. Whether one agrees with his assertions or dismisses them as political provocation, they have undeniably opened a debate on the delicate boundaries between private conduct and public responsibility. In a geopolitical environment as complex as India’s, even the perception that a leader could be susceptible to external manipulation becomes a matter of strategic concern.

India’s political history offers numerous examples where the personal lives of national icons were woven—fairly or unfairly—into political narratives. Mahatma Gandhi’s lifelong experiments with celibacy remain a subject of historical debate, puzzling admirers and critics alike. His unconventional practices, carried out in the pursuit of spiritual discipline, were questioned even by his close associates. Jawaharlal Nehru’s deep and openly affectionate friendship with Edwina Mountbatten became a recurring theme in popular writing, academic discussion, and political gossip, despite the absence of credible evidence suggesting impropriety. Later decades saw regional leaders ensnared in scandals, some grounded in fact, others designed for political takedowns. The Indian electorate, while often tolerant of human imperfections, has not been indifferent to the moral halo traditionally expected of its leaders.

What differentiates the present moment from earlier eras is the unprecedented power of digital communication. A comment posted online—whether measured or reckless—can shape global perceptions within minutes. Allegations that once required months of political manoeuvring now travel instantly, creating narratives that policymakers, diplomats, and security institutions must urgently address. Even if the underlying claims lack verification, the velocity of modern discourse ensures that their political impact precedes their factual scrutiny.

From a national security perspective, Swamy’s implication—that hypothetical personal secrets could be used by foreign powers to influence India’s highest office—raises disturbing questions. It suggests a scenario in which statecraft might be compromised not by ideology or policy failure but by the vulnerabilities of individuals. Such a prospect, even as a theoretical concern, invites deeper reflection on the institutional safeguards that protect democratic governance.

History shows that scandals—real, perceived, or fabricated—often become turning points in Indian politics. Indira Gandhi’s Emergency-era decisions, Rajiv Gandhi’s entanglement in the Bofors controversy, and the scandals involving various chief ministers all shifted political trajectories, in some cases altering the direction of the nation. When moral allegations become entangled with political contestation, they seldom remain confined to private criticism; they spill into questions of governance, legitimacy, and public trust.

The current episode, driven by Swamy’s comments, may influence the future of Indian politics in several possible ways. First, it may intensify internal tensions within the ruling party, especially if the controversy fuels debates over leadership direction, succession, or ideological purity. Second, it may embolden opposition parties to frame new narratives around transparency, accountability, and character, themes that have often resonated with India’s middle and urban classes. Third, it may shape India’s diplomatic posture if foreign governments perceive political fragility or internal discord at the top.

Yet beyond the immediate political ripples lies a broader truth; modern democracies often expect their leaders to embody moral perfection, even though history repeatedly shows that statesmen, like all human beings, are complex, flawed, and sometimes contradictory. The danger lies not in acknowledging this humanity but in allowing unverified allegations to overshadow critical issues of policy, governance, and national strategy. When political discourse becomes dominated by personal insinuation rather than substantive debate, the democratic process itself is diminished.

India today aspires to great-power status, seeking a central role on the global stage. Such ambition requires political stability, institutional maturity, and a leadership that commands confidence both domestically and internationally. Allegations—whether rooted in fact or born of rivalry—must therefore be handled with seriousness, transparency, and due process. Neither blind acceptance nor dismissive rhetoric strengthens the nation; only truth, accountability, and institutional robustness do.

Whether Swamy’s remarks prove to be a fleeting controversy or a catalyst for deeper political shifts will become clear in time. What already stands revealed, however, is the immense power of digital communication to reshape national conversations and the enduring importance of integrity—both perceived and real—in the life of a democracy. In India’s political theatre, where personalities are as consequential as policies, the intersection of private life and public duty will remain a subject of scrutiny, speculation, and debate for years to come.

Dr. M Ali Hamza

Population management is often misunderstood as an attempt to control reproduction.It is rather a broader strategy to harmonize population growth with national resources, economic capacity, and quality of life. It includes shaping demographic trends through education, health strategies, urban planning, economic incentives, and behavioral change, aiming not merely for fewer people, but for better-prepared, better-educated, and more productive populations.

Many countries faced population challenges in recent past and tackled them effectively. For instance,China initially used restrictive policies like the one-child law, but in recent years shifted to encouraging births due to aging demographics, showing that population policies must adapt over time.Bangladesh successfully reduced its fertility rate through grassroots education, community-based female health workers, and empowering women economicallynot just by providing contraceptives.Iran drastically lowered fertility rates in the 1990s through premarital family planning courses, high literacy among women, and widespread reproductive health awareness.

European countries, Japan, and South Korea today struggle with shrinking populations, raising an important lesson: the objective is balance, not simply reduction. The global experience demonstrates that sustainable population management is not about coercion, it is about informed decision-making, long-term planning, gender empowerment, and economic alignment.

Pakistan is now the 5th most populous country in the world, with over 240 million citizens, and a youth-heavy demographic. While a young population can be a strategic asset, it becomes a burden when job creation does not match workforce growth, education systems are overstretched, urban infrastructure is overloaded, healthcare resources are limited and agricultural land shrinks while food demand rises

Pakistan’s population grows by roughly 2% annually, meaning we add around 4 million people each year, equivalent to another Karachi every decade. No economy, however ambitious, can absorb such increases without pressure on housing, employment, and public services. For Pakistan, the issue is not just population size; it is quality. Too many births occur in households unable to afford education, healthcare, or nutrition perpetuating cycles of poverty.

Why did past policies and population management plans fail? Pakistan has introduced many policies, written many frameworks, and signed many declarations. Yet implementation lags for key reasons like i) cultural and religious sensitivities; as family planning is often misunderstood as anti-family or anti-faith, ii) low female literacy; studies have established the fact that women’s empowerment strongly correlates with reduced fertility, iii) weak health communication: policies exist on paper but don’t reach rural communities effectively, iv) inconsistent political will because government restarts the conversation rather than continuing a long-term roadmap, v) perception of children as economic security; as in poor households, more children mean more potential earners, vi) rural-urban disparity; stats show that urban fertility is declining, while rural fertility remains high.Though each reason is a contributing factor and needs serious deliberation, but in the context of Pakistan cultural/religioussensitivities and women empowerment appears to be a larger contributor to the problem.

Our policy makers and executors mustrecognize the fact that population management is far more than distributing pills, devices, or running isolated and irregular campaigns. It is about changing mindset, and indeed it never happens with a magic wand.

Changing the mindset of a society is a gradual, layered process that involves education, leadership, cultural evolution, and real-life demonstration of improved outcomes. It begins with awareness, where people are introduced to new perspectives through public dialogue, evidence-based communication, media engagement, and educational content. The next step is community-level engagement, because mindsets rarely shift through national messaging alone. Trusted figures such as teachers, religious scholars, community elders, and healthcare workers play a central role in reshaping norms. When messages are delivered through familiar voices, they carry greater legitimacy and acceptance. Then comes policy alignment and leadership example. Government programs, school curricula, economic incentives, and local support systems need to reinforce the desired values: it signals that the mindset shift is not just aspirational but institutional. Another critical phase is real-life reinforcement. When smaller families witness improved household stability, better child development, financial relief, and upward mobility, these visible improvements validate the mindset shift. Others observe these results and replicate the choices. Finally, the mindset truly transforms when it becomes self-sustaining; when societal norms, peer expectations, and cultural identity begin endorsing the new thinking. Over time, what once required persuasion becomes common sense, and society internalizes a new vision of progress, opportunity, and responsible planning. Look at history, social mindset never changed with a magic wand, but with clarity, commitment and consistency.

The big question is, who is going to do it? And simple answer is ‘WE’, the people.

Author is a strategy and communication professional, and can be reached at [email protected]