who make up the TMC’s base. The BJP argues that such an apparent bias was inevitable because Ms Banerjee had fiddled the lists. Yet the rushed process, overseen by an electoral regulator that critics say is increasingly under Mr Modi’s thumb, hardly instilled confidence that all was fair. Of 3.4m voters who appealed against exclusion, fewer than 2,000 appear to have been reinstated in time to vote. The BJP-run central government also bused in almost a quarter of a million armed police to oversee voting. There were reports of election officials intimidating TMC candidates and voters. Since the election there has also been violence on both sides. Elsewhere in the country things were less heated, but incumbents similarly struggled with voters unhappy about rising prices and poor governance. In Kerala the ruling Communist government was replaced by a Congress Party- led coalition. That was no great surprise, given that Keralites have tended to swap between two main parties at almost every election, though it does mean that India has no Communist state-level government for the first time in almost 50 years. More of a shock were the events in Tamil Nadu, with the loss of Mr Stalin to Vijay, a Tamil cinema megastar turned politician. Mr Stalin had long been a leading figure in the Congress-led national opposition alliance and a chief proponent of Tamil-identity politics, in opposition to Mr Modi. He helped make his state an industrial powerhouse, attracting the likes of Apple and Ford with pro-business reforms. Yet like Ms Banerjee, he also came to be seen by many voters as corrupt, though both of them deny the charge. Vijay’s victory was driven by young urban voters with little love for the old guard, says Rahul Verma of Shiv Nadar University in Chennai. Analysts have been left scratching their heads about how the political novice, at the head of a two-year-old party, will govern one of India’s most dynamic states. On the face of it the elections leave Mr Modi’s ruling coalition more dominant than ever, and his opponents in disarray. Since suffering a setback at the national election in 2024 (he won, but is obliged to rely on coalition allies), he has now notched up a string of state-election victories. He may conclude that there is more mileage yet in his brand of strident, communal politics—and in pushing the limits of his powers. Yet the results contained another message: that many Indian voters are unhappy with incumbents. As a result, they may prove to be volatile. And that is before they have fully felt
the pain of rising prices as a result of the energy crisis triggered by war in the Gulf. (Once voting concluded, the central government said that cooking- gas prices would be raised.) If Mr Modi’s opponents can get their act together, they have just been given an opening. ■ Stay on top of our India coverage by signing up to Essential India, our free weekly newsletter. This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com//asia/2026/05/04/narendra-modi-has-extended-his-grip-on-
Asia’s stranded seafarers suffer as the Iran war drags on In a more dangerous world, unsung mariners are under increasing threat May 7th 2026 “We are like war prisoners,” says Captain Khan, who is waiting in the Persian Gulf as missiles “go all around” him. One hit a nearby fuel tanker, which caught fire and exploded. On another occasion debris sank a vessel a few metres in front of him. Mr Khan’s crew have tried to pass through the Strait of Hormuz three times; the Iranians have turned them back on each occasion. “We are afraid,” says the captain, who does not want to disclose his full name or identify his vessel. “We have to go home.” Very few have. On May 3rd Donald Trump announced a plan to “guide” stranded vessels out of Hormuz, but later paused it as he tried to strike a deal with Iran. Around 20,000 seafarers remain stuck in the Gulf. Most hail from
relatively poor countries in Asia, such as the Philippines, Indonesia and India. These countries supply a large share of the crew for the merchant fleet that carries 85% of the world’s traded goods (by volume), from oil to smartphones, fertiliser and food. Yet these sailors are increasingly caught up in conflicts in which they play no part and for which they are unprepared. The closure of Hormuz is only one reason why so many seafarers are stuck in the Gulf. The International Transport Workers’ Federation (itf) has secured for its members a right to refuse to sail into the region and to be repatriated from it. But seamen cannot legally abandon their ships until companies find replacements. Few are volunteering to relieve them. Tickets on flights out of the Middle East are also expensive and scarce, while visas to enter Gulf countries are hard to get. That means that even if the strait opens it will take “at least six months before things get back to some sort of normality” for seafarers in the region, says Francesco Gargiulo of imec, which represents shipping firms. Some remain directly in the firing line. Fifteen Filipinos were aboard two ships seized by Iran in late April. They were unharmed, but at least ten other seafarers, including Indians and Thais, have been killed during the war. Arjun’s (not his real name) crew were preparing lunch when a projectile hit, killing one of them. Normally the “ship is alive”, but after the explosion there was “no sound, no rhythm. It felt like a ghost ship.” Arjun and the crew grabbed buckets, scooped out seawater and threw it on a huge “fireball” before they were rescued. For those still in the Gulf conditions vary. Some shipowners have signed up to a collective-bargaining agreement that guarantees seafarers double pay in war zones, in addition to the right to repatriation. Some mariners are happy to be picking up a fat bonus while doing less work than they normally might. But less than half of all commercial ships are covered by this deal, according to the itf. Even on ships whose owners have signed the agreement, life is getting harder. Captain Khan “has a fresh-water crisis”; one tonne of the stuff now costs him $50, up from around $2 before. His crew are rationing it. As Mr Trump has noted, other seafarers are running out of food. But choosing to
leave the Gulf is itself a risk, because most seafarers work from contract to contract. Seafarers see the war as only the latest of many recent hardships. Their profession has always been difficult and dangerous; occupational hazards still include attacks by pirates near the Horn of Africa and in the Gulf of Guinea. But things got particularly tough during the pandemic, when governments prevented mariners from setting foot on shore and blocked crews from relieving them. Arjun went 20 months without seeing his wife. Others are aggrieved that a growing number of employers abandon seafarers on ships without paying their wages. Some hope that this crisis will be the one that prompts change. Captain Anam Chaudury, who heads a union in Bangladesh, has a simple request for leaders planning future wars: “Please give seafarers time to get the hell out. Let them not be victimised by your nonsense activities.” The Gulf is not the only place where seafarers are under threat. In recent years Houthi missiles and drones have killed several sailors in the Red Sea. Russian strikes have also killed mariners in the Black Sea. Governments in Asia are sympathetic to mariners, who are a potent political and economic force. The 590,000 seafarers from the Philippines, the largest contingent of any country, remit more than $7bn a year, a fifth of the country’s total remittances. They have even previously had their own political party, called Angkla (“anchor”). It is unsurprising, then, that the Philippine government has stressed that its seafarers can refuse deployments to the Gulf—which may in turn make it harder to relieve those still stranded there. India’s leaders are working to repatriate seafarers from the region and making sure that the public knows about their efforts. All countries have a stake in improving mariners’ lives. Even before the war there were too few qualified seafarers to meet demand. The job has long provided men like Arjun a route out of poverty, offering far higher wages than they can get on land and a chance to “roam around the world”. Yet it also means years spent “on a very lonely sea, in a small ship in a vast ocean” that looks increasingly dangerous. ■
Editor’s note: On May 5th Donald Trump announced a temporary pause to America’s plan to guide commercial ships out of the Strait of Hormuz. For exclusive coverage of Asian politics, economics and security, sign up to Asia Bulletin, our weekly subscriber-only newsletter. This article was downloaded by zlibrary from https://www.economist.com//asia/2026/05/05/asias-stranded-seafarers-suffer-as-the- iran-war-drags-on
The energy shock triggers an Asian dash for biofuels But tackling one crisis could exacerbate another May 7th 2026 The blockade of the Strait of Hormuz is forcing Asia’s energy importers to scour new markets. Thailand wants to buy more oil from Nigeria and Kazakhstan; Vietnam is now sourcing from Angola and Argentina. But even as countries cast their nets wider for crude, they are also reaching for a resource closer to home: farms. Across Asia, governments are announcing or accelerating plans to expand the use of biofuels. Indonesia, for example, wants to roll out B50—a 50% palm-oil blend of diesel—by July 1st. Vietnam has begun selling E10, a blend of ethanol (10%) and petrol, ahead of a mandated switch on June 1st.