By: Dr. Shivanand Kumar.
By the time Donald Trump began campaigning with the enthusiasm of a man flinging Halloween candy from a moving golf cart, political scientists around the world felt a strange sense of déjà vu. Somewhere in India, an election strategist likely nodded approvingly and said, “Ah yes, the freebies phase.”
In India, this practice is affectionately (and sometimes angrily) called rewari politics—the fine art of distributing goodies to voters with the speed and generosity of a wedding buffet, right before asking for lifelong loyalty. In America, we prefer more dignified terminology like “targeted relief,” “tax incentives,” or “pro-worker policy.” But as Trump has demonstrated, the spirit is remarkably universal.
Consider the formula. Step one: identify a frustrated voter base. Step two: promise them something tangible, preferably shiny, immediate, and slightly fiscally irresponsible. Step three: wrap it all in a heroic narrative where the leader alone is fighting shadowy elites who, for mysterious reasons, hate cheap electricity, lower taxes, or domestic manufacturing.
Indian politicians have perfected this choreography. Free power here, loan waivers there, a complimentary gas cylinder for everyone. Trump, ever the quick learner, localized the syllabus. Why give out free blenders when you can offer tax cuts, tariffs, and the emotional satisfaction of watching foreign countries be “taught a lesson”?
In India, voters are told, “This government cares about you.” In Trump’s America, the message is, “Only I care about you—and everyone else is either corrupt, incompetent, or from a country taking advantage of us.” Same sentiment, different accent.
The resemblance becomes uncanny during election season. Indian governments suddenly discover that public welfare has been underfunded for decades and must be urgently corrected—preferably before the model code of conduct kicks in. Trump, similarly, finds new affection for factory workers, farmers, and middle-class families roughly 18 months before voting begins. Coincidence, surely.
Critics complain that such giveaways distort economic priorities. Supporters counter that democracy itself is a transaction: votes in exchange for benefits. This debate rages in New Delhi and Washington alike, proving that globalization has finally achieved something meaningful—the international standardization of populism.
Of course, Trump adds his own stylistic flourishes. Indian leaders usually announce rewaris at solemn press conferences. Trump announces them at rallies that resemble stand-up comedy shows where the punchlines occasionally involve trade deficits. An Indian politician might promise free rice; Trump promises restored greatness, which is harder to quantify but polls surprisingly well.
There is also the matter of scale. Indian rewaris are often direct and visible. You can touch them, cook with them, or switch on a fan using them. Trump’s rewaris are more abstract—tax structures, trade barriers, regulatory rollbacks. You may not feel them immediately, but you are assured, loudly and repeatedly, that they are tremendous.
Economists on both sides of the globe sigh in unison. They warn about deficits, distortions, and the long-term costs of short-term generosity. Voters, meanwhile, do the math they always do: What do I get now, and who looks confident while promising it?
Trump understands this instinctively. Like his Indian counterparts, he knows that structural reform is slow, boring, and unlikely to fit on a campaign banner. A rewari, however, is emotionally efficient. It says: You matter. Right now. To me.
And so, as America debates whether this is responsible governance or electoral bribery with better branding, India watches with mild amusement. We have seen this movie. We know the songs. We even know the intermission snacks.
In the end, Trump hasn’t copied Indian politicians so much as rediscovered a timeless political truth: when voters are anxious, ideology is optional but benefits are mandatory. Call it populism, call it protectionism, or call it rewari with a red, white, and blue wrapper.
Democracy, after all, is global. And so, apparently, are freebies.

Author: Dr. Shivanand Kumar.

Funny because it’s true. Strip away the slogans and accents, and populism everywhere runs on the same fuel—timely generosity and selective outrage. The article lands its satire neatly: when elections near, ideology fades and the freebies, whether tangible or abstract, take center stage. Different countries, same playbook.
“In today’s context, this writing is absolutely true and verified. Your writing is amazing and wonderful! “
Interesting topic,
This article amusingly demonstrates that politics speaks a truly universal language- populism. Different country, different leader, same familiar strategy: make grand promises, add a touch of drama, and trust that voters won’t examine the fine print too closely. Whether in the East or the West, the political script appears to be written by the same author, only the costumes and accents change. A humorous yet thought-provoking reminder that political tactics travel faster than ideas.