Three years ago, in this very column titled “Tharoor for 2026”, this writer had asked: “Who will win the cup in the contest between Shashi Tharoor and the state Congress leadership?” The answer then leaned decisively towards Tharoor. His rising popularity among the most influential sections of Kerala’s social and political spectrum, fed up as they were with the uninspiring faces they see across parties, suggested that he might well emerge as the UDF’s chief ministerial candidate for the 2026 Assembly election.

With barely five months left, this writer stands corrected. Today, the chance of Tharoor becoming the UDF’s chief ministerial face appears close to zero.

In 2006, a powerful bloc led by the United States reportedly contributed to Tharoor’s failure to become UN Secretary-General. This time, the forces that have ended his prospects of leading his home state come not from outside but from within — and predominantly from himself. The dazzling career the diplomat-turned-politician and acclaimed author built is entirely his own creation: intellect, talent, discipline, and global stature. Yet the political wilderness he is in today is also largely self-created.

The four-time Congress MP — arguably its most recognisable national face — now seems unwanted within his own organisation. The BJP, which once showed active interest in absorbing him, no longer appears too keen. The Muslim League’s enthusiasm, earlier one of his most decisive sources of support, has cooled. Even many Congress leaders who privately admired Tharoor have faded away.

The earlier optimism about Tharoor’s chief ministerial chances came in the immediate aftermath of his 2022 defeat in the Congress presidential election against Mallikarjun Kharge. Though Kharge, the Gandhi family–favoured candidate, won with 84.14% of AICC delegates’ votes, Tharoor’s 11.4% (1,072 votes) was significant. It came on the heels of his association with the G23 group, which had demanded internal elections and reforms. Several in that group — Ghulam Nabi Azad and Kapil Sibal among them — would eventually leave the party. Tharoor did not.

Despite challenging the leadership, despite losing, and despite being marked as a “rebel”, Tharoor enjoyed a rare political moment. His stature, unmatched personal credentials, and cross-sectional popularity — across religion, caste, class, gender, and region — made him the UDF’s most winnable face for 2026. His “Nehru Yatra” across Kerala attracted enormous crowds and widespread goodwill, not just from Congress workers but from other parties as well.

His support from the Muslim League was especially firm. The Catholic Church, too, responded positively. The Nair Service Society, which once dismissed him as a “Delhi Nair”, rolled out a warm welcome. If these sections root for Tharoor, the present Congress High Command would not have dared to overlook him as the Chief Ministerial candidate despite an array of other top leaders eyeing the post. Add to this the unmistakable warmth he received from the Kanthapuram A.P. Aboobacker Musliyar-led Sunni faction. This was particularly significant because the Kanthapuram group has traditionally been aligned with the Left - hence often called “sickle Sunnis”- and has often acted as a counterweight to the League within the Muslim community. Tharoor appeared the most suitable face to lead the UDF to ride the apparent anti-incumbency wave against the LDF government in power for an unprecedented double term. Particularly so when today’s Congress, unlike in the past, looks bereft of tall leaders with state-wide clout.

And with the Congress’s prospects at the Centre bleak, Kerala remained the one arena where Tharoor could realistically aspire to executive power. Given his international stature, the Chief Minister’s post was the only logical position he could seek.

But the years after 2022 changed everything. The NDA under Narendra Modi won a third term in 2024, shutting the door yet again on any Congress resurgence at the Centre. Tharoor won Thiruvananthapuram for the fourth time — narrowly — and announced that he would not contest the Lok Sabha again.

Chief ministership became his only plausible political future.

And then, from 2023 onwards, Tharoor began to shift. He increasingly praised Prime Minister Modi, bewildering even his supporters. To be fair, this was not entirely new. Years earlier, writing for an American publication, Tharoor had described Modi’s post-2014 evolution as an attempt to convert a “hate figure” into an “avatar of modernity and progress”. When Modi nominated him to the Swachh Bharat campaign in 2014, Tharoor accepted with pride, triggering his removal as Congress spokesperson.

Yet Tharoor continued to call Modi a master communicator who elevated India’s global standing. Kerala’s Congress leadership criticised him sharply, but Tharoor held firm.

In 2019, when Congress leaders such as Jairam Ramesh and Abhishek Singhvi warned against the “demonisation” of Modi, Tharoor expressed vindication. In 2023, after the G20 Summit, he hailed the Delhi Declaration as a diplomatic triumph.

By early 2025, Tharoor appeared to be on a near manic mission to praise Modi, sometimes at the cost of embarrassing his party. He also applauded the Pinarayi Vijayan government’s investment policies, even as the Congress was attacking the LDF from every flank. He admitted he had “egg on his face” regarding his earlier stance on the Russia–Ukraine war. He defended trade negotiations Modi held with Donald Trump and praised Piyush Goyal for reviving the UK–India FTA talks.

When Operation Sindoor followed the Pahalgam terror attack, the Modi government chose Tharoor to lead a parliamentary delegation abroad against the wishes of Congress. In articulating India’s position, Tharoor sounded strikingly close to the BJP line — in sharp contrast to his own party’s narrative. The latest instance of the camaraderie is Tharoor gladly accepting the official invite to the dinner hosted by President Murmu in honour of the Russian President Putin, even when neither Rahul Gandhi nor Kharge was considered. Tharoor explained that he was invited as the chairman of the Parliamentary Committee on External Affairs.

All this burnished his image as a statesman capable of rising above partisanship on matters of national interest. But it severely eroded his standing within the Congress, where Modi remains the principal political adversary and where consistency matters.

Critically, even as he praised Modi, Tharoor invoked the “ghosts” of the Congress — the Emergency, dynastic politics, organisational decay — while remaining largely silent on issues Rahul Gandhi vocally raised in and out of parliament: from “Vote Chori” to SIR.

He repeatedly insisted that he would “never join the BJP”. But by then, the damage was done.

Shashi Tharoor today stands in what looks like a political wilderness — not because he was defeated by opponents, but because of contradictions he created for himself. His intellectual brilliance and international stature remain intact; his appeal in cultural and literary circles will remain undiminished. But in the rough and transactional world of electoral politics — especially within Kerala and the Congress — he has run out of manoeuvring space.

The Tharoor who once appeared the UDF’s strongest bet for 2026 is now the Tharoor least likely to be considered for that role. At the same time, he would neither be expelled by the Congress to prevent him from acquiring a martyr’s image, and effortlessly walk into greener pastures. Caught between two boats, he could be in a suspended animation in a political no man’s land.

Yet, even in this bleak landscape, two narrow doors remain open for Tharoor. The first is Tharoor being bestowed by Modi with a coveted position, which would not require him to join the BJP. The second door is within his home state. Kerala’s political tides are notoriously unpredictable, and one more inflection point lies ahead. If the UDF suffers a heavy setback in the forthcoming local body elections against the LDF, resurgent with the stinking sexual scandal involving Congress legislator Rahul Mankoottathil, and a spirited NDA, the prospect of its return to power after a full decade out of office will once again look remote. At that moment, the High Command — faced with a demoralised cadre and a leadership vacuum — may be compelled to look beyond its familiar pool of contenders.

And then, as the last throw of the dice, it may have little choice but to turn to Shashi Tharoor — the one leader who still commands cross-sectional appeal, name recall, and the curiosity of the wider electorate.

That, perhaps, is the only pathway left for Tharoor’s return as the UDF’s chief ministerial candidate. It is a possibility, not a probability — but in Kerala’s politics, even the narrowest of possibilities can sometimes reshape the script.