In early January 2026, something unusual happened in the Kalyan Dombivli Municipal Corporation elections, something that did not look dramatic at first glance but slowly raised uncomfortable questions. Twenty seats were decided without a single vote being cast. No campaigning till polling day, no queues outside booths, no inked fingers, no choice given to voters. By January 1, the final deadline for withdrawals, every rival candidate in these wards had either withdrawn or had their nominations rejected, leaving candidates from the Mahayuti alliance to be declared winners unopposed. What could have been dismissed as a coincidence quickly turned into controversy because this was not one or two seats but twenty, almost sixteen per cent of the entire corporation, handed over quietly before democracy could even begin. The incident shocked many because local body elections are usually the most competitive and personal form of democracy, where even small margins matter and where voters expect at least the right to say yes or no.
The numbers themselves made people uneasy. Out of 122 seats, the Mahayuti alliance secured twenty without facing the public at all. Fourteen went to the BJP and six to the Eknath Shinde faction of Shiv Sena. What made it more suspicious was how these seats opened up. Candidates from across the opposition spectrum stepped aside in large numbers within a very short window. Seven candidates from Shiv Sena UBT, five from the MNS, six from the NCP Ajit Pawar faction, one from the NCP Sharad Pawar faction and two from the Congress withdrew their nominations. In several wards, this happened almost overnight. Names like Harshal More in Ward 28A, the son of MLA Rajesh More, were suddenly declared winners. In Ward 24, three Shiv Sena candidates walked through unopposed. BJP candidates Asavari Navare and Rekha Chaudhary were declared winners in Dombivli and Kalyan even before voters had time to understand what had happened. To many residents, it felt less like an election and more like a decision taken somewhere else.
As soon as the results came out, the opposition cried foul and framed the episode not as a political strategy but as a systemic manipulation of the electoral process. Allegations surfaced that rival candidates were pressured, persuaded or paid to step down. Shiv Sena UBT leader Sanjay Raut openly alleged that candidates were offered bribes of up to five crore rupees to withdraw, claiming that bags of cash were sent to their homes in the final hours. Others pointed fingers at administrative bias, saying returning officers rejected opposition nominations for small clerical errors while overlooking similar issues in Mahayuti papers. Abu Azmi of the Samajwadi Party spoke about money and pressure being used openly. Local leaders claimed phone calls were made from powerful offices and ministers to ensure that the field was cleared. While the ruling alliance dismissed these accusations as excuses for weak ground support, the pattern raised serious questions about how free and fair the process really was.
The controversy deepened when legal arguments entered the picture. Activists and opposition leaders approached the courts, arguing that even if only one candidate remains, the election should still be held so that voters can exercise their right to choose NOTA. Their argument was simple. Democracy is not only about selecting winners but also about allowing citizens to reject them. If there is a NOTA button on the voting machine, then declaring someone elected without polling removes that choice entirely. The Aam Aadmi Party went a step further and demanded that if NOTA were to receive more votes than the lone candidate, a re-election should be mandatory. The State Election Commission found itself in an uncomfortable position. While it did not cancel the unopposed wins immediately, it also refused to formally certify all twenty winners until inquiry reports were submitted. The SEC confirmed that it was examining whether the withdrawals were voluntary or the result of pressure or allurement, a rare admission that something may have gone wrong.
Adding another layer to the situation was the boycott by the 27 Villages Struggle Committee. These villages have long demanded a separate municipal body and chose to stay away from the KDMC elections altogether. Their refusal to participate or field candidates in several panels indirectly helped the unopposed victories in those areas. While their protest was rooted in a separate political demand, its impact on the election outcome could not be ignored. It showed how multiple political currents collided at the same time, creating gaps that were quickly filled by those in power. What should have been an election became a complex mix of boycotts, withdrawals, rejections and allegations, leaving ordinary voters confused and sidelined.
Beyond the immediate political drama, the KDMC episode forces a deeper conversation about the state of democracy at the local level. Municipal elections are meant to be closest to the people, where accountability is direct, and power is limited. When twenty candidates are elected without a vote, it sets a worrying precedent. Even if every withdrawal was technically legal, the spirit of democracy suffers when choice disappears. The incident also exposes how power operates quietly, not always through visible force but through influence, money, fear and administrative control. For voters, the damage is not only political but emotional. Trust erodes when people feel that outcomes are decided before they even step out of their homes.
What happened in Kalyan Dombivli may be defended by some as political efficiency or strategic brilliance, but it also highlights the fragile line between mandate and manipulation. Elections are not just about winning seats but about participation, legitimacy and consent. When victory comes without votes, it raises the uncomfortable question of who the system is really serving. The courts may decide whether laws were broken, but the larger judgment will be made by public memory. Whether this episode becomes a warning or a blueprint depends on how seriously institutions respond. Democracy does not collapse in one dramatic moment. Sometimes it fades quietly, seat by seat, vote by vote, until silence replaces choice.
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