When Optics Turn Fatal: The Chinnaswamy Stampede And Congress’ Obsession With Spectacle

What happened outside Chinnaswamy Stadium on 4 June. on what should’ve been a day of pure celebration, will now haunt Bengaluru—and every RCB fan—for a lifetime.

The stampede was not merely an unfortunate accident—it laid bare gaps in planning, misplaced priorities, and a focus on spectacle over safety by the Congress government. This wasn’t just a lapse—it was a collapse of basic governance.

The Celebration That Turned Into Carnage

RCB’s victory had lit up the city. Joy was palpable. But as fans surged toward the Chinnaswamy stadium in central Bengaluru, the atmosphere of festivity turned into a fight for breath, space, survival. Crushed bodies. Screams. Sirens. Chaos.

And inside the venue? The Deputy Chief Minister of Karnataka stood on the stage, garlanding players, smiling for the cameras—appearing completely oblivious to the horror unfolding just outside.

No acknowledgement from the stage. No urgent intervention. Just optics over empathy.

Not a National Honour—A Commercial Event

An IPL victory isn't a national honour like a win in the Olympics or the Asian Games. This wasn’t even the Ranji Trophy.

The IPL is a billion-dollar entertainment enterprise. Everyone involved—from team owners to broadcasters to the franchise ecosystem—makes money off the spectacle. And yet, it was the common citizen, the fan, who paid the ultimate price.

The state government went all out to bask in the glow of a corporate cricket carnival. But when it came to the most basic responsibility—ensuring safety, dignity, and order—they failed. Miserably.

And that failure came not at a government event, not at a Republic Day rally, but at a celebration of a commercial league where no one from the government even had skin in the game, except the photo-op.

Mimicking Modi?

What makes this more galling is the transparent attempt to mimic Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s style of honouring sporting heroes.

Whether it’s Olympic medallists or World Cup champions, Modi’s gestures—grounded in respect, discipline, and seamless coordination—have always been about the athletes, not about himself.

The Congress, desperate for relevance, tried to script its own ‘Modi moment.’ But in place of dignity, there was disarray. In place of planning, a performance. And instead of pride, an evening that ended in panic and loss.

Congress, in contrast, attempted a clumsy imitation. They wanted a Modi moment. They got a mess.

When Populism Turns Dangerous

This wasn’t just bad event management. This was manufactured populism gone horribly wrong.

With no crowd regulation, no barricades, no safe access routes, and no accountability, the state government put together a spectacle that collapsed under the weight of its own negligence. The desperation to ride public emotion ended up crushing the very people they wanted to impress.

And now, like clockwork, we can expect them to invoke phrases like “unprecedented crowds” or “unexpected turnout.” But they weren’t so restrained when it came to demanding accountability from actor Allu Arjun just a few months ago, when a tragic death occurred at a screening of his film—a situation he had no direct role in.

Back then, the very same Congress-led chorus had found their villain.

Today, when the villain stares back at them in the mirror, they may look away. But the public won’t forget.

The Aftermath We Know Too Well

Let’s not sugar-coat this: this was an avoidable, man-made disaster. The result of a government more obsessed with headlines than human lives.

And if past patterns are anything to go by, what comes next is predictable.

A cheque will be flat-pasted onto body bags in quiet corners of hospitals. A few junior officials will be named and shamed. A few statements will be read out. And the city will be told to move on.

No real ownership, introspection or learning will ever come out of it. Just business as usual.

But for those who stood in that crowd, who carried the injured, who watched someone breathe their last in what was meant to be a moment of joy—nothing will ever be usual again.

RCB may have won. But the people of Bengaluru lost.

Royally challenged.