Why Bengaluru’s Decline Stems from Misplaced Priorities and Fading Pride

Biocon, the company that helped make affordable life-saving drugs for diseases like cancer, has no cure for the political malaise infecting Karnataka’s governance or Bengaluru’s civic decay. Its founder, Kiran Mazumdar-Shaw, who built Biocon from scratch in the heart of Bengaluru and turned it into a global biopharma leader, was recently forced to remind everyone of something she should never have had to say – her love for her city and her language.

“I was born in this city and have spent seven decades loving my city, my Kannada culture and can read, write and speak this wonderful language. I am a proud Kannadiga,” Shaw declared on X (Twitter), responding to trolls questioning her allegiance after she criticized Bengaluru’s crumbling infrastructure.

With just Rs 10,000 as seed capital, Mazumdar-Shaw founded Biocon – a company that gave Bengaluru global recognition and its residents a reason to be proud. Yet, in today’s climate, reason and pride are overshadowed by resentment and politics. Her legitimate criticism of the city’s worsening civic mess – overflowing garbage, pothole-ridden roads, and traffic paralysis – drew more political outrage than introspection.

The Rise of Populist Pride Over Pragmatic Progress

Instead of addressing real issues, Karnataka’s leaders have turned to Kannada nationalism as a tool for political distraction. Populist posturing has replaced problem-solving, with politicians deflecting accountability by blaming the very corporate leaders who helped build Bengaluru into India’s Silicon Valley.

Mazumdar-Shaw is not alone in this. In recent months, the state’s congress government has publicly confronted other icons – Wipro’s Azim Premji and Infosys founders N.R. Narayana Murthy and Sudha Murthy – questioning their motives and undermining their contributions.

It’s worth remembering that Bengaluru’s transformation wasn’t born merely out of government policy. It was the vision and persistence of private enterprise that turned the “Garden City” into a global tech powerhouse. Yet, as infrastructure collapses and governance weakens, corporates have become convenient scapegoats.

The Political Blame Game and the Price of Pride

When Deputy Chief Minister D.K. Shivakumar lashed out at Mazumdar-Shaw for her remarks, he labeled them as “hurting the state and country.” His dog-whistle found its audience – the “pride protectors” who value sentiment over solutions. Meanwhile, Bengaluru’s roads remain unsafe, civic works lag, and public anger mounts.

Chief Minister Siddaramaiah took it a step further, blaming Azim Premji for traffic jams by demanding access to Wipro’s private campus road. Later, he publicly rebuked the Murthys over their decision not to participate in the state’s caste survey, asking rhetorically, “Just because they are Infosys, are they all-knowing?”

It was a telling moment – when leaders attack those who question them rather than fix what’s broken. Ironically, the same government has diverted over 200 engineers from road repair projects under the Greater Bengaluru Authority to assist with the caste survey. That misplaced priority perfectly illustrates the problem.

When Politics Costs Lives

The consequences of civic neglect are severe. In September, a school bus carrying 20 children overturned after hitting a pothole. Fortunately, the students were rescued through the rear door, but it could have been far worse. Around the same time, logistics tech unicorn BlackBuck was forced to relocate its Bellandur office because of unmanageable traffic congestion and dangerous roads.

Such incidents reflect not just administrative inefficiency but a deeper moral failure – a loss of civic pride. Bengaluru’s corporates have built ecosystems, not just companies. Infosys’ sprawling Electronics City campus in the 1990s created thousands of jobs, microbusinesses, and new tech communities. Yet today, these contributions are dismissed in favor of political narratives.

The Hand That Feeds Karnataka

Corporates are the lifeblood of Karnataka’s Economy. While direct taxes go to the Center, the state earns substantial revenue from GST, excise, registration, and vehicle taxes – all powered by the same businesses now being vilified. Ironically, these funds finance the government’s populist schemes and election-time freebies.

Business leaders like Mazumdar-Shaw and TV Mohandas Pai rarely criticize the state openly, knowing the risks of political retaliation. Yet, as Pai recently posted on X, “Ministers in Karnataka are more concerned with appeasement, caste, and caste surveys than with progress, growth, and technology. They are regressing the state, borrowing money for freebies.”

Andhra Pradesh Seizes the Opportunity

As Karnataka fumbles, neighbors like Andhra Pradesh are watching closely. The state’s IT Minister, Nara Lokesh, has actively pitched Visakhapatnam as a more reliable alternative to Bengaluru, highlighting its cleaner infrastructure and investor-friendly approach. Every corporate grievance in Bengaluru becomes a marketing point for Andhra’s emerging tech hubs.

Two Cities, Two Realities

The contrast within Bengaluru itself is striking. Whitefield, governed by the Bruhat Bengaluru Mahanagara Palike (BBMP), struggles with potholes, flooding, and traffic chaos. In contrast, Electronic City, managed by a public-private township authority, remains relatively organized and functional. The difference? Leadership, accountability, and priorities.

The Real Root of Bengaluru’s Decline

Bengaluru’s problems aren’t unsolvable – they are ignored. They stem from a dangerous mix of political opportunism, administrative apathy, and misplaced pride. Instead of tackling infrastructure challenges head-on, Karnataka’s leaders have chosen to silence critics and weaponize regional sentiment.

But the truth remains: Bengaluru’s corporates built the city that politicians now run into the ground. The government risks alienating the very ecosystem that made Karnataka an economic powerhouse. Neighboring states are ready to welcome those corporates with open arms – and better roads.

Bengaluru’s downfall isn’t about potholes or garbage alone; it’s about priorities, pride, and the peril of ignoring both. The Karnataka government must remember: it is biting the hand that feeds it, while others are already waiting to shake that same hand.