Opposition’s Silence, Centre’s Smirk

The morning began with high drama. At 9AM, finance ministers from eight opposition-ruled states gathered at Tamil Nadu Bhawan, a guesthouse complex in New Delhi that often serves as the meeting point for southern leaders in the capital. 

Finance reporters swarmed the gates, expecting fiery soundbites about compensation and revenue protection. Instead, the cameras recorded little more than silence. Every minister refused to speak, barring a lone comment from Jharkhand: unless the federal government agreed to compensate states for revenue loss, the opposition bloc would not support the Centre’s reform plan for the Goods and Services Tax.

The hush was jarring.

Only a week earlier, these states had thundered in unison, demanding revenue protection to shield their finances from the impact of lower GST rates. Reporters anticipated a replay of that defiance at the Council itself, perhaps even a dramatic vote. Yet on the very morning of the meeting, the opposition clammed up.

The Centre, by contrast, played its hand openly.

Before the Council convened, Andhra Pradesh’s finance minister broke convention by addressing reporters to say his state backed the GST reforms. It was a rare move, finance ministers traditionally wait until after the Council meeting to speak, but it made political sense. Andhra is governed by the Telugu Desam Party, a key ally of Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party, and its support sent an early signal that the Centre was in control of the narrative.

The Council met at Sushma Swaraj Bhawan, a government convention centre on the fringes of New Delhi’s diplomatic enclave, far from the usual bustle of the capital’s power zone. For the press pack, this meant long, weary hours outside an isolated building with little to report.

Rumours trickled through the day that what had been scheduled as a two-day session might wrap up in one, as ministers were keen to settle all disputes without dragging matters into September.

By 9PM, patience was fraying when an Information Officer finally emerged from Sushma Swaraj Bhawan. Reporters leaned in, hoping for clarity on whether voting loomed or whether the compensation battle had flared up.

Instead, the briefing was perfunctory: if there was a press conference, it would be held at the National Media Centre across town, a twenty-minute drive away. No hints about whether the meeting would end that night or spill over into another day.

Still, the press corps held its ground. And then, just after 9:15 PM, the motorcades began to roll out. Red beacons flashed, police sirens cut the night air.

Delhi’s Chief Minister Rekha Gupta was the first to emerge, unsmiling and wordless. Then came a procession of state finance ministers, from Himachal Pradesh and West Bengal to Jharkhand and Punjab. Some chose to walk briskly to their cars, while others slipped directly into vehicles waiting under the porch.

Cameras jostled, microphones were thrust forward. Most ministers mouthed platitudes about the reforms benefiting the common man. There was no talk of voting, no mention of the once-loud compensation demand.

West Bengal’s finance minister alone broke the monotony, lamenting, “What can we do, our state will suffer Rs 10,000 crore revenue loss, but they (Centre) are giving a figure of Rs 47,700 crore for the country.”

Her words hung in the humid night air, less a protest than a sigh of resignation.

The final image of the night belonged to Union Finance Minister Nirmala Sitharaman. Sliding into her car, she wore the unmistakable expression of someone who had pulled off a tricky assignment. Building consensus without resorting to a formal vote is never easy in India’s fractious federal politics. Doing so ahead of the Diwali deadline set by the Prime Minister was a triumph she clearly savoured.

By 10PM, the sirens had moved on to the National Media Centre, where officials offered the polished version: sweeping reforms that would lower GST rates, aimed to help the ordinary consumer. The earlier battle cries about state compensation had all but vanished.

For those of us who stood outside all day, the story wasn’t just the Council’s decision to streamline GST slabs. It was the silence—opposition states that had thundered a week ago, now mute. The retreat was almost theatrical. The night of vigil ended with the image of Nirmala Sitharaman, who managed to silence critics, seize the narrative, and exit the day wearing a smile of part relief, part triumph.