According to Osho, Delhi’s politics are a deliberate theater of confusion: rulers avoid real action, hide the line between dictatorship and democracy, fling new slogans, stage internal quarrels, and keep postponing—because doing anything risks mistakes and displeasing someone. Power is sought only to entrench power; talk replaces work, and a gullible public, dazzled by rhetoric, cannot see the manipulation.
Delhi’s leaders mostly talk and create confusion so they can keep power without taking risky, real action.
From the Discourses
Passages where Osho speaks to this question — each links to the complete discourse.
Osho, could you say something about what is going on in Delhi?
I’ll tell a little story. When Lanka’s former ruler Ravana was on his deathbed, Rama sent Lakshman to learn statecraft from him—saying, “Son, we may have won, but we have no experience of running the administration here; go and ask him how to run things.” Lakshman went there and said to Ravana, “You are dying now—tell us how to govern here.” Ravana said, “Half the politics I handled, half Kumbhakarna did. Had you gotten in touch with Kumbhakarna as well?” Lakshman said, “Yes—he said: eat to your heart’s content and then sprawl on the sofa with your eyes closed. This is the best method.” “Tell me,” Ravana asked, “are you going to unleash dictatorship, or will you run things by democracy? Which method will be suitable?” “What will go down well with the people?” “Nothing,” said Ravana. “When you impose dictatorship, the people will yearn for democracy; and when you…
Osho, why does politics have so much prestige? Why are politicians sitting on everyone’s chest today?
Not just today—they’ve always been sitting on your chest. The fault isn’t the politician’s; the fault lies with those who let someone sit on their chest. If you allow it, someone will climb up—if not A then B, if not B then C. Man wants to remain a slave; that’s why. He wants a master. He doesn’t want to stand on his own feet, to find his own direction. He wants to follow, to be a follower. He doesn’t want to open his own eyes. He wants to walk holding someone’s hand. Because man is not yet a complete man, politics becomes important. And politics is important also because much animality still remains within man; as long as that animality remains, politics will remain significant. It is because of the animal in man that brute force seems valuable. What is a politician’s power? Only as long as he holds office…
Osho, what is the first experience of samadhi like?
You will know only when it happens. It cannot be said; at most a few hints can be given. It is as if, in the dark, a lamp is suddenly lit. Or as if a dying patient, right at the edge of death, suddenly finds a medicine that works; life’s wave, life’s thrill spreads again—so it is. As if a corpse becomes alive—such is the first experience of samadhi. It is the taste of nectar. The experience of the ultimate music. But it will be only when it happens; and only then will you understand. You will not understand by my saying it. It is as with love. How can anyone explain it? To someone who has never loved, never known love, no matter how many explanations you offer—he will hear it all and still ask, “I haven’t understood; please explain a little more.” It is like explaining light to…
Osho, where are this country’s politicians taking the nation? What became of socialism?
This country can be healthy, prosperous, abundant. It has everything, and its people have great talent. But our assumptions are wrong. Then you weep and worry and ask: where are politicians taking the country? Ask yourself: whom did you choose? From that, you’ll know where they’ll take you. Politics should be in the hands of the young—fresh minds who still have the courage to experiment, the capacity to try, even the guts to make mistakes. But whom do you send into politics? Seventy-five-year-olds, eighty-year-olds, eighty-four-year-olds. Everywhere else retirement rules apply—at fifty-five, fifty-eight, or sixty. Why? Because after sixty, people generally go senile—everywhere else. But in politics? After sixty, suddenly they’re deemed wise. What a joke. Until you’re senile, you’re nobody; who will even recognize you? First question: have you gone senile? If yes, you’re fit to be a leader. Morarji Desai left the university sixty years ago. Whatever he learned…
Why won't you leave india? Those dim-witted politicians in new delhi will be the last people in the world to understand what is going on here.
Mahatma Gandhi fits with the Indian mob; the Indian mob worships him. The politician has to follow the mob. Remember always: in politics the leader follows the followers. He has to! He only pretends that he is leading; deep down he has to follow the followers. Once the followers leave him, he is nowhere. He cannot stand on his own, he has no ground of his own. Gandhi worshipped poverty. Now if you worship poverty you will remain poor. Poverty has to be hated. I hate poverty! I cannot say to worship it; that would be a crime. And I don't see any religious quality in just being poor. But Gandhi talked much about poverty and its beauty -- it helps the poor man's ego, it buttresses his ego; he feels good. It is a consolation that he is religious, simple -- he is poor. He may not have riches…