Lalu, Bihar, and the Cost of Power: Lessons from the Fodder Scam

Paromita Das

New Delhi, 21st October: There are empires built with armies — and then there are empires built with loyalty.
In the Bihar of the 1990s, few names stirred as much awe as Lalu Prasad Yadav. He wasn’t just a political leader; he was a phenomenon. His slogan about samosas and potatoes wasn’t a jest — it embodied an era when Bihar’s politics, governance, and identity spun around one man. Yet, beneath the loud rallies, rustic humor, and unmatched popularity, a silent ledger was recording something sinister — a loot so organized and insidious that it would one day collapse the very fortress Lalu had built around himself.

What began as whispers in the corridors of Bihar’s bureaucracy became one of Bharat’s loudest corruption scandals — the Fodder Scam — forever altering the political and moral fabric of the state.

The Discovery That Changed Everything

In 1995, Bihar’s economy was crumbling. Salaries went unpaid, ledgers didn’t add up, and the treasury resembled a leaking well. It was into this chaos that Vijay Shankar Dubey, an honest and sharp-eyed IAS officer, took charge as Finance Secretary. What he found looked, at first, like a clerical mistake — the Animal Husbandry Department had vastly overspent its budget. But Dubey sensed something more.

Through detailed auditing, he unearthed how fictitious vouchers and fake bills had been used to withdraw massive sums of public money. Veterinary supplies, animal feed, medicines — everything was on paper, but nothing in reality. These were not mere accounting shocks; they were signs of a system-wide fraud. When the Comptroller and Auditor General raised parallel alarms, the deceit could no longer be ignored.

A Raid that Rocked the State

The defining moment came on January 27, 1996, when Chaibasa District Magistrate Amit Khare authorized raids at regional treasuries. What his team found was staggering — counterfeit receipts, ghost farms, and fabricated veterinary reports. The scale was breathtaking: funds worth hundreds of crores had been siphoned off by a nexus of politicians, traders, and pliant officials.

It was no longer about missing money; it was about misplaced governance. Bihar’s administrative heart had been eaten hollow by corruption, and the rot led straight toward Patna’s seat of power.

Political Firestorm and Institutional Collapse

Lalu Prasad Yadav, then at the peak of his dominance, faced his first serious challenge. His initial response was classic political theatre — forming inquiry committees staffed with individuals either sympathetic to or directly accused in the case. The transparency was a façade; the damage control, a farce.

When the opposition, led by BJP’s Sushil Kumar Modi, approached the Patna High Court seeking a CBI investigation, Lalu’s fortress began to shake. Despite his government’s appeals, the Supreme Court upheld the order. A national embarrassment now loomed over Bihar’s corridors of power.

U.N. Biswas of the CBI led the probe, and his findings painted a damning picture — the scam had roots in the highest offices. What followed was part investigation, part political thriller. Even as the CBI prepared its case, Delhi’s shifting political sands further spiced the drama. Rumors swirled about Lalu’s chance at prime ministership, but the scandal ensured those ambitions evaporated before they could germinate.

A New Party, an Old Power

When prosecution became inevitable, Lalu executed a bold escape act. Resigning from Janata Dal, he launched the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD) in July 1997, instantly pulling majority support to his side. The shift was more symbolic than structural — the power center remained firmly in his hands.

But the law had caught up. As CBI Chief Joginder Singh refused to “go slow,” despite political overtures, the investigation reached its crescendo. By July 25, 1997, Lalu Prasad Yadav was arrested. Yet, his downfall came with an ironic twist — he appointed his wife, Rabri Devi, to succeed him as Chief Minister, thus keeping Bihar’s reins within the family.

In a single stroke, he secured continuity, even as his credibility collapsed.

The Long Shadow of the Fodder Scam

The consequences went beyond convictions and headlines. The Fodder Scam crippled Bihar’s bureaucracy with fear and suspicion. Officers hesitated to sign files, fearing reprisals or allegations. Development crawled, governance dimmed, and public faith in institutions withered further.

It wasn’t merely about embezzled funds; it was about a stolen future. Generations of Biharis suffered from that paralysis — the inertia of corruption intertwined with caste politics. The very machinery that once worked tirelessly to protect political power now worked cautiously to protect itself.

A Political Tragedy in Three Acts

Lalu’s saga was both charismatic and catastrophic. He had once embodied the voice of the marginalized, redefining Bihar’s politics through earthy connect and raw authenticity. But governance is a different art — one that punishes excess and rewards accountability. His failure lay not in his vision of social justice, but in letting loyalty overshadow legality.

The tragedy of Lalu Yadav wasn’t that he was caught; it was that he could have been remembered as Bihar’s reformer. Instead, his name became synonymous with systemic decay — a reminder that populism without probity is just a performance.

The Enduring Warning for Leadership

The Fodder Scam was not just an episode of corruption; it was an anatomy of power unchecked. It revealed how caste politics, bureaucratic complicity, and unrestrained authority could implode a state from within.

Even today, Bihar continues to carry that cautionary scar. Lalu’s fall remains a story future leaders should study — not for its drama, but for its lesson. Power, like trust, once lost, is rarely regained. His empire, once invincible, now stands as a ghostly echo of what happens when governance forgets its moral compass.