Why prohibition is back in focus in Bihar

India Today

30-04-2025

Bihar's bold prohibition experiment—a statewide ban on liquor imposed in April 2016—has resurfaced as a fault line in the run-up to assembly polls this year. Once extolled by chief minister Nitish Kumar as a moral triumph that would curb societal violence and uplift the lives of women, prohibition now serves as political ammunition for both the ruling alliance and the Opposition.Across rallies and media briefings, parties of every stripe are questioning the ban's efficacy and accusing rivals of betrayal—all in the hope of converting the debate over enforced sobriety into electoral success.advertisementORIGINS OF THE BANIn April 2016, the Nitish-led grand alliance outlawed every drop of alcohol in Bihar. Bars and vends had to shut down at a moment's notice. Women's collectives marched through village lanes, chanting hymns of deliverance.
Nitish himself hailed prohibition as a 'new dawn' for Bihar, promising that families would now be able to redirect their newfound savings into education, nutrition and a more dignified life. With Tejashwi Yadav of the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD) serving as deputy chief minister at the time, the measure was embraced both as a moral imperative and an electoral masterstroke.Yet, as the initial euphoria waned, the ban's unintended aftershocks rippled through daily life. In eight years and by last August, over 1.28 million arrests had been made under the prohibition law—an average of 18 people every hour and nearly all from the most marginalised castes. Jails overflowed and courts were flooded with hooch-related litigation even as illicit liquor poured in from neighbouring states.advertisementTejashwi, now in the Opposition, has alleged that at least 2,000 lives have been lost to spurious brews, a grim tally that even the defenders of prohibition barely contest.Bihar's geography compounds enforcement woes: 22 of its 38 districts share borders with Uttar Pradesh, Jharkhand, West Bengal and Nepal, regions where alcohol is legal. The most formidable stretch is the 1,800-km-long Nepal frontier, pocked with unguarded transit points. Electronics, narcotics, firearms, counterfeit currency and more slip through these porous seams with ease. For smugglers, this corridor is providential; to expect the Bihar police, even with support from the central Sashastra Seema Bal, to seal the border entirely is being overly optimistic.TEJASHWI'S TODDY, KISHOR'S REPEALIn this charged electoral atmosphere, Tejashwi has made a dramatic claim. On April 27, clutching a clay pot used by the Pasi community to gather traditional palm wine, he vowed to exempt toddy from prohibition, quash all pending cases against tappers and grant the trade full 'industry status'. By portraying the ban as an affront to heritage and livelihood, Tejashwi had clearly questioned Nitish's well-intentioned reform that he believes has harmed the very people it had aimed to protect.Enter Prashant Kishor's Jan Suraj Party, offering yet another twist to the narrative. Kishor has pledged that should his coalition assume power, it will repeal the prohibition law in entirety, legalising the sale of all alcoholic beverages. With characteristic panache, he argues that a nuanced regulatory framework—rather than an outright ban—can reconcile public health with individual freedom to drink. He also proposes using liquor revenue to fund world-class education in Bihar. For the record, the state forfeited over Rs 4,000?crore in excise duty and sales tax in 2014-15, a sum projected to have crossed Rs 20,000?crore by now.advertisementUnwilling to cede the moral high ground, the ruling alliance of BJP, Janata Dal (United) and smaller parties has launched a vigorous counter-offensive. Deputy chief minister Samrat Chaudhary accused Tejashwi and his family of backing liquor sellers and the Opposition of opportunism. From the Nitish government's perspective, the ban remains a badge of honour, a bold step that has helped curb crime, save families from financial ruin and empower women.THE HUMAN COSTOn paper, prohibition reinvigorated household budgets. In its early years, honey sales surged by nearly 400 per cent and the premium sari market ballooned by over 1,700 per cent as families were thought to have redirected money once devoted to drinking. State surveys even indicate that nearly a fifth of households invested liquor savings in durable assets—appliances, livestock—and education.advertisementYet these figures harbour a double edge. Economists caution that such spikes may simply reflect a rerouting of the same funds and not an absolute gain in welfare. Did villagers truly prosper or did they merely buy necessities long postponed? And what about the thousands still trapped in legal limbo, incarcerated on charges that seldom end in conviction? The human cost of these statistics belies any straightforward narrative of 'savings'.The champions of prohibition highlight early declines in violent crime and testimonials from women of feeling safer at home. Yet, in many rural corners, these benefits have proved fragile. Makeshift distilleries sprang up in backyards, clandestine supply chains thrived and police crackdowns often verged on harassment. The Pasi community—Dalit tappers at the heart of the toddy debate—suffered acutely, stripped of a lawful livelihood and left to nurse deep grievances since the state lavished benefits on other groups, such as free bicycles for schoolgirls, and expanded job quotas for women.ELECTIONS AS A RUBICONProhibition has become an electoral test of Bihar's grand experiment in a social reform. Tejashwi wields toddy as both a symbol and talisman, appealing for 'bread-and-butter justice' over abstract moral posturing. Kishor's promise of full repeal offers a different path: pragmatic regulation, merging economic realism with social compassion. The Nitish-led camp, by contrast, insists that resolute legislation, however uncomfortable, remains indispensable to societal renewal.advertisementThe dry-state law was never merely about banning alcohol; it was a testament to Nitish's conviction that legal mandates can reshape society. Yet as voters now weigh these reforms, they confront a deeper dilemma: can top-down policies deliver lasting benefits or do they simply transpose hardship onto the vulnerable? Will Bihar's electorate validate the prohibition experiment or spurn it when the so-called cure seems to taste as bitter as the disease itself?The fate of prohibition, whether lauded as a triumph of moral governance or condemned as a misbegotten gambit, will depend on which vision prevails: Tejashwi's appeal to tradition and caste solidarity, Kishor's call for measured pragmatism or Nitish's insistence that bold laws beget bold progress. The Bihar voter will judge soon.Subscribe to India Today Magazine