Manmohan Singh, a prominent figure in Indian economic and political history, is remembered for a legacy that evokes both admiration and reflects deep contradictions. As the architect of India’s economic liberalisation in 1991, Singh’s policies are often credited with pulling the nation from the brink of financial collapse and steering it toward growth. Yet, as we reflect on his life and governance, it becomes clear that Singh’s tenure as Finance Minister and Prime Minister was a double-edged sword—ushering in an era of economic expansion while simultaneously sowing the seeds of inequality and social unrest.
Singh’s personal qualities—his humility, soft-spoken demeanour, and intellectual rigor—made him a respected statesman. His integrity and decency were rarely questioned, and even his critics acknowledge his dedication to public service. However, Singh’s economic vision, deeply rooted in the neoliberal framework, was far more contentious. His tenure marked India’s turn towards market-driven policies, foreign investment, and privatisation—changes that, while spurring GDP growth, widened the gap between the rich and the poor.
As Finance Minister in the early 1990s, Singh’s liberalisation policies were celebrated for integrating India into the global economy. Yet, the same policies gradually broke down the safety nets that had shielded millions of Indians from poverty. The economic reforms, driven by the infamous LPG (liberalisation, privatisation, globalisation) model, disproportionately benefited the urban elite while leaving rural populations to grapple with stagnant wages, land dispossession, and agrarian distress. As economists like Prabhat Patnaik observed, peasant agriculture suffered immensely, exacerbated by shrinking subsidies and declining profitability. Between 1991 and 2011, the number of cultivators in India fell by 15 million, and more than 300,000 farmers tragically took their own lives—stark reminders of the reforms’ human toll.
In his two terms as Prime Minister, Singh’s leadership, though outwardly steady, was defined by internal contradictions. His government introduced landmark social welfare programmes—the Right to Information (RTI) Act, Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme (MGNREGS), and the Food Security Act. These initiatives were celebrated as progressive steps toward alleviating poverty and empowering citizens. However, they were less transformative solutions and more safety valves, designed to absorb the mounting discontent generated by the very economic model Singh championed. For many, these policies felt like band-aids applied to wounds inflicted by unchecked liberalisation.
During Singh’s first term, supported by the Left parties, his leadership involved a cautious balance between economic reform and social welfare. However, his second term became overshadowed by corruption. Nobel laureate Amartya Sen described Prime Minister Manmohan Singh as a tragic figure, noting that Singh’s attempts to curb corruption were unsuccessful, ultimately leaving him vulnerable to his own helplessness. In 2012, political historian Ramachandra Guha said that “More and more, he has become a tragic figure in our history,” describing a man fatally handicapped by his “timidity, complacency and intellectual dishonesty.” Guha later wrote: “In his second term, it became clear to everyone that here was a status-quoist Prime Minister, with no desire to stem official (and political) corruption, no will to begin the reform of our corroding public institutions.”
The second term of UPA Government also revealed a growing alignment with corporate interests and imperialist powers, culminating in strategic deals. While Singh framed this as a strategic move to secure India’s energy future, critics saw it as an erosion of India’s independent foreign policy—a drift toward the orbit of Western powers, undermining the nation’s long-held position as a leader of the Global South. His role in fostering stronger ties with the United States and other global powers was at odds with his earlier stint as Secretary-General of the South Commission Report, where he had advocated for a fairer international economic order that prioritised the rights of developing nations.
The contradictions in Singh’s governance extended beyond economics. His policies indirectly fuelled the rise of divisive, communal forces in India. The widening economic disparity, accelerated under his leadership, created fertile ground for the spread of Hindutva ideologies, deflecting public anger from economic distress to religious and cultural scapegoats. As wealth concentrated in the hands of a few, large sections of society, disillusioned by economic exclusion, became susceptible to narratives that blamed ‘the other’ for their plight. Singh’s silence on these issues during his tenure further compounded the problem.
One of the harshest critiques of Singh’s economic policies lies in their long-term impact on India’s democracy and social organisation. By prioritising GDP growth at the expense of equitable development, Singh’s reforms inadvertently contributed to the erosion of secularism, social justice, and inclusive governance. The unchecked expansion of corporate influence and the weakening of state institutions created an imbalance that continues to reverberate today.
Singh’s death marks the end of an era, but his legacy continued to shape India’s political and economic history. His contributions to India’s development cannot be dismissed—he was, after all, the man who opened the gates to a new economic order. However, the cracks in that order, now impossible to ignore, demand a reassessment of his policies. As India grapples with rising inequality, agrarian crises, and social unrest, the question that remains is whether Singh’s economic model set the stage for progress or precipitated the untying of the foundational promises of the Indian Republic.
In remembering Manmohan Singh, we honour not just the man but the complex, often paradoxical path he charted for India. His governance serves as a reminder that while economic growth is vital, it must not come at the cost of social cohesion and democratic values. Singh’s legacy is a proof of the need for leaders who can balance market reforms with the imperative to protect the most vulnerable—an unfinished task that future generations must now confront.
K.M. Seethi is Director, Inter University Centre for Social Science Research and Extension (IUCSSRE), Mahatma Gandhi University (MGU), Kerala, India. He is also the editor of Journal of State and Society. Earlier Seethi served as Senior Professor of International Relations and Dean of Social Sciences at MGU.
