* Why did pollsters and pundits get the 2024 election forecasts so badly wrong?
* Why was the mainstream media narrative so one-sided?
* Why did the 'char sau paar' drumbeat for the Modi-led BJP not work on the ground?
* How did a Rahul Gandhi-led Congress stage a comeback?
* What changed so dramatically in the last five years?
* How does Team Modi-Shah operate?
* Was it really a free and fair election?
* What role did the enforcement agencies play?
* How did the battle for the states turn?
* Who really won and lost the 2024 election?
2024: The Election That Surprised India brings to life the inside story of a dramatic period in Indian politics and society. Every twist and turn is revealed in an exciting narrative on the tumultuous events of our times. Unsparing and uncompromising, this is an unputdownable account of power politics, the main characters and their role in influencing the headlines of our times. After the bestselling books on the 2014 and 2019 elections, Rajdeep Sardesai now takes a deep dive into India's most bruising and polarized political battle and the many stories that shaped an extraordinary election verdict.
There is something oddly admirable in the way Rajdeep Sardesai—once celebrated for his field reportage—has shaped his literary instincts into something resembling moral commentary. His book, 2024: The Election That Surprised India, offers a detailed chronicle of the Lok Sabha campaign, its result, and the atmosphere surrounding it. And if one can stomach the relentless partisan grumbling, one finds therein a considerable effort: grounded, expansive, often absorbing.
But make no mistake. Sardesai’s idea of neutrality in political writing is akin to a judge openly muttering his verdict before the trial has begun. His perspective is resolutely fixed, and throughout the text, one gets the sense that the BJP is not merely a political party—it is a theological threat to the republic; while the Congress, despite its inertia, misfires, and institutional lassitude, is painted in the faint but unmistakable light of redemption.
Let us begin with the obvious: the stylistic shifts in prose that accompany ideological mood swings. When writing about Narendra Modi or the BJP-led government, Sardesai is unsparing. Phrases such as “supremo cult,” “brutal centralisation,” and “bulldozing through every sector of life” suggest not journalistic observation but righteous indignation. “Quasi-autocracy” is used not tentatively, but with the gusto of someone who believes he is stating the obvious.
The Modi–Shah government is described not with caution, but with a kind of animated weariness, as if the author has been personally wounded by their political presence. The enforcement of executive power is labelled “zabardasti”—a Hindi word connoting brute force—while the bulldozer metaphor, drawn from the BJP’s actions in Uttar Pradesh, is repeated with theatrical relish.
Contrast this with the tenderness that emerges the moment Sardesai writes of the Opposition. When the Congress is mentioned, one senses not just a softening of tone, but a curious air of solicitude. It “almost doubled its seat tally,” he writes, “winning, in a strange twist.” “Strange,” here, is less analysis than wistful hope dressed up as political surprise.
The party’s failures are seldom dissected with equivalent acuity. One is told that the Congress suffered from a “defeatist mindset” and “hesitated in key states.” That’s it. No commentary on its leadership vacuum, no critique of Rahul Gandhi’s incoherent messaging or organisational lethargy. The adjectives used for the Congress are not “incompetent,” “directionless,” or “disjointed,” but merely “unlucky,” “restrained,” or at worst, “slow.”
One of the more human passages concerns the hapless Pradeep Gupta and his failed prediction of a BJP landslide. Sardesai’s narration of Gupta's on-air tears—humiliating, spontaneous, and oddly moving—is told with a modicum of restraint. That entire episode, including the juxtaposition of Yogendra Yadav’s correct forecast, is genuinely engaging. It is perhaps the only time Sardesai writes with the quietness of someone not fully convinced of his own voice.
And yet, the backdrop to this sequence is not used for reflection, but reinforcement. Even this moment becomes a parable—yet another warning about the excesses of the pro-Modi consensus. That the entire media class—Sardesai included—fell for the char sau paar drumbeat is acknowledged. But the moral, predictably, is: “See what the Modi machine does to public reasoning.”
Despite its endless partisanship and lack of introspection, this volume achieves something few books in the genre manage—it records. Sardesai is nothing if not diligent. His field visits, references to local politics, and his anecdotal detailing of state-by-state nuance are of considerable value. The book is informative, densely packed, and frequently sharp in its observational segments—when they are not busy attempting moral instruction.
Where other journalists content themselves with sporadic opinion columns, Sardesai has delivered a sustained, structured examination of the five years between 2019 and 2024. That such a book exists—well-argued, well-sourced, if somewhat shrill—is itself worthy of a degree of applause.
In sum, this book is not a neutral account. It is not even mildly detached. It is, in effect, a skilfully constructed brief for the prosecution, wrapped in the garments of reportage. If you’re seeking an account that interprets the election with subtlety and balanced reason, this may not suffice. But if you are looking for a writer to take you inside the engine room of India’s politics, even if he keeps pointing at a fire only he sees—then Sardesai remains your man.
And for his unmatched access, his doggedness, and his craftsmanship—even if his conclusions arrive wearing party colours—I offer him four stars.
Its a compilation of events happened over the years which we know, heard or read in newspapers. Nothing new or unknown information. Its a good to see hatred of Rajdeep towards Prime Minister Modi, Amit Shah and overall BJP.