From Patna to Hyderabad, political family feuds rock regional parties

They say blood runs thicker than water. But political elixir, it seems, runs thicker than blood. Two regional satraps, twice chief ministers, both septuagenarians—Bihar’s Lalu Prasad Yadav and Telangana’s K. Chandrasekhar Rao—are caught in familial cleft sticks.

Nearly a week after Yadav expelled his elder son, Tej Pratap, from the party for six years following a now-deleted social media post about his 12-year-long romantic relationship, the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD) chief is still reeling from the fallout—this, in a state heading for elections later this year. Tej Pratap, who has been trying to reach out to his family since his expulsion, recently blamed it on a political conspiracy in posts on X, alleging that “greedy people like Jaichand” were playing politics with him. He also warned his younger brother, Tejashwi—Lalu Yadav’s political heir—that “Jaichands” were trying to drive a wedge between them. Though he didn’t name anyone, the diatribe is widely seen as aimed at leaders close to Tejashwi.

His father has maintained a stoic silence despite his son’s public appeals for parental affection. Meanwhile, the BJP has taken potshots at Lalu Yadav, saying: “Who doesn’t know Bihar’s Jaichand who betrayed JP and Karpoori Thakur ji and held Congress’ hand? Do we need to say, or do you get it?” Jaichand, a 12th-century king, came to be regarded as a traitor for allying with foreign powers against Prithviraj Chauhan.

Earlier, Tej Pratap had claimed his social media accounts were hacked. Lalu Yadav’s political rivals, however, have latched onto the controversy. Tej Pratap’s estranged wife, Aishwarya Rai—the granddaughter of former chief minister Daroga Prasad Rai and daughter of Chandrika Rai, who quit the RJD to join Nitish Kumar’s JD(U)—asked publicly: “Why was my life ruined?” The matter is likely to echo on the campaign trail if Rai contests the assembly elections against the RJD.

Of Lalu Yadav’s nine children, seven are daughters. The comparison between his two sons has long been a subject of political lore in Bihar. That contrast was amplified in 2020, when Tejashwi became deputy chief minister for a second time, while Tej Pratap—formerly health minister—was left with the environment and forest portfolio. A ninth-standard school dropout who once tried his hand at cricket, Tejashwi has been groomed by Lalu Yadav to inherit his political legacy, a race the elder son seems to have lost, largely due to his own erratic demeanour. Now, with elections looming and the RJD and its allies facing a formidable JD(U)-BJP combine, Lalu cannot afford a family scandal casting shadows over his chosen heir.

While the Bihar patriarch has taken his son to task, down south, a sibling rivalry is brewing in the family of Bharat Rashtra Samithi (BRS) founder K Chandrashekar Rao (KCR). His daughter, Kavitha Kalvakuntla—an MLC and former MP—has taken on the leadership of the Telangana party, where her brother, KT Rama Rao (KTR), is the working president. She has hinted at efforts to merge the regional outfit with the BJP.

The turmoil began with the leak of a letter she wrote to her father, in which Kavitha—who spent over five months in prison after being booked by central agencies in the Delhi liquor policy case—expressed disappointment that he hadn’t spoken more strongly against the BJP during the party’s silver jubilee celebrations in Warangal on April 27. She alleged the leak was the result of a conspiracy within the party. At a later press conference, Kavitha declared that she would work only for one leader—KCR. She also reportedly said her father was “like God surrounded by devils”.

At the opening of a new office for her non-profit organisation, Telangana Jagruthi, she pledged to protest the Kaleshwaram Commission notices served to her father, charting her own course while affirming her loyalty to KCR. She said that if the BRS was one eye of KCR, Telangana Jagruthi was the other. KCR, who has been summoned to appear before the P.C. Ghose Commission on 5 June regarding alleged irregularities in the Kaleshwaram Lift Irrigation Project, has remained silent so far on his daughter’s outburst. It remains to be seen whether he will take a decisive stance if he senses that Kavitha’s rebellion could damage his party—which lost the state to Congress in 2023—and whether he would discipline his daughter to save the organisation.

Palace intrigues are not new to Indian politics. In neighbouring Andhra Pradesh, the rift between former chief minister and YSRCP leader Jagan Mohan Reddy and his sister Sharmila—now with the Congress, a party her brother bitterly parted ways with—stems from disputes not only over political legacy but also property inherited from their father, Y.S. Rajasekhara Reddy. Once political allies who campaigned together after floating the YSRCP and sweeping the 2019 elections, their relationship soon soured. Sharmila, who insists their father wanted the family’s assets divided equally among the grandchildren, now has their mother’s backing. The family feud has provided Jagan’s rival, Chandrababu Naidu of the TDP, with ample fodder to attack him. Meanwhile, speculation is rife that Naidu, now 75, is preparing to name his son, Nara Lokesh, as heir by appointing him TDP’s working president.

In Uttar Pradesh, the Samajwadi Party’s internal strife played out in full public view. After the SP’s national executive declared Akhilesh Yadav party president in 2017, replacing his father, and proposed removing Shivpal Yadav—Mulayam Singh’s brother—as state chief, Amar Singh, a once-powerful confidant who was later expelled, likened the young leader to Aurangzeb, the controversial Mughal emperor. The SP lost that year’s elections to the BJP. It was only in 2021, a year before the next assembly polls, that Akhilesh and Shivpal reconciled after a five-year family feud—though Akhilesh is still striving for his first electoral victory as the party’s top leader.

AkhileshK Chandrashekar RaoLalu Prasad YadavNews Briefpoliticsregional political partiesRJDSamajwadi PartyShivpalWeb Exclusive