On 8th December, the Shiv Sena Uddhav Balasaheb Thackeray (UBT) workers made their way to the Pir Babar Sheikh Dargah in Hatis, Ratnagiri district, in what could only be described as a spectacle of political acrobatics. This time, the once-proud Hindutva warriors, founded by Bal Thackeray, decided to take an oath of loyalty to the party at a “religious place” far removed from their ideological roots. Predictably, this move has caused a stir on social media, where users questioned whether this was an attempt at “secularism” or just another episode in Uddhav’s ongoing identity crisis.

Media reports suggest that this grand gesture was part of an elaborate strategy to deal with the growing unrest within the party after its abysmal showing in the recent Maharashtra Assembly elections. Not to miss a chance to embrace irony, the dargah—celebrated as a symbol of “communal harmony”—was chosen as the site where the disillusioned workers would pledge their loyalty. According to ABP News, unnamed sources claimed this visit was meant to reinforce the workers’ commitment to the party’s ideals. However, it appears that the ideals in question now shift faster than Uddhav’s political alliances.

Why the Workers Went to the Dargah

The Shiv Sena (UBT) has been grappling with a humiliating loss in the Assembly elections. Reduced to a paltry 20 seats statewide, the party contributed to the Maha Vikas Aghadi’s total of just 60 seats, an outcome that sent shockwaves through its already fragile cadre. What made this defeat particularly bitter was the party’s failure in Konkan, a region that was once a stronghold of the Thackeray-led faction. This was not just an electoral loss; it was a fall from grace for a party that once boasted unshakeable dominance.

The aftermath was anything but calm. Party workers, frustrated and angry, accused senior leaders of being negligent and inefficient, holding them responsible for the party’s disastrous performance. The discontent spilled into meetings, where arguments erupted and, in some cases, led to key resignations, leaving the leadership scrambling to pick up the pieces.

In a bid to control the chaos, Vinayak Raut, a trusted lieutenant of Uddhav Thackeray, came up with what can only be called a dramatic fix. The solution? An oath-taking ceremony at the Pir Babar Sheikh Dargah. The logic behind this move, as per party insiders, was rooted in the Konkan tradition of pledging loyalty at sacred sites. This act was supposed to restore faith, not just in the leadership but also in the idea that Shiv Sena (UBT) could still project unity amid the fractures.

Attendance, however, was not optional. Reports suggest that workers were strongly urged to participate, with ABP News quoting unnamed sources who hinted that absence would be perceived as disloyalty or even anti-party activity. In essence, those who failed to turn up risked being branded traitors—an ultimatum that seems less about loyalty and more about enforcing compliance.

A Brief History of the Dargah

The Pir Babar Sheikh Dargah in Hatis village, Konkan, is a historical site of both cultural and spiritual significance. According to Deepra Dandekar’s study, the dargah is dedicated to Pir Babar Sheikh, a Sufi saint who arrived in the region centuries ago. Renowned for his spiritual wisdom and social work, he became a respected figure among the locals. However, Uddhav Thackeray's latest political maneuvering at this site seems more like a desperate act to patch up his party’s identity crisis rather than honoring its historical relevance.

When the saint passed away, the predominantly Hindu villagers were reportedly unsure about performing his burial rites. Muslims from Ibrahimpattan stepped in to conduct the last rites, and the dargah was subsequently established as a “symbol of communal harmony.” Over the years, this shrine has been maintained jointly by Hindus and Muslims, with rituals and responsibilities shared across communities. It is also the venue for the annual Urs celebrations, which draw thousands of devotees.

Interestingly, the administration of the dargah is largely controlled by the local Nagvekar clan, a Hindu family, while Muslims who conduct the rituals often come from neighboring villages, given the lack of a permanent Muslim population in Hatis. While this situation has been portrayed as an example of cooperation, it also reflects the complex layers of shared yet contested spaces that define the history of the dargah.

This nuanced history, however, seems to be of little concern to Uddhav Thackeray’s camp. By staging an oath-taking ceremony at the dargah, the party has unwittingly added yet another layer of irony to its already chaotic narrative. For a party founded on Hindutva principles, such a gesture could hardly be more contradictory—or comedic.

Political Implications and Future Outlook

The decision to hold an oath of loyalty at the dargah is a bold move, albeit one that reeks of desperation. Shiv Sena (UBT), founded on the strong Hindutva ideology of Bal Thackeray, has taken a sharp turn into symbolic displays of secularism under Uddhav’s leadership. Naturally, this has raised eyebrows across the political spectrum and fueled criticism on social media, where users questioned whether the party has abandoned its ideological roots for good.

The ceremony was intended to address growing dissatisfaction among party workers and restore unity within the ranks. However, whether this event will succeed in mending the deep rifts caused by election losses and internal disagreements remains highly doubtful. Critics argue that instead of confronting its challenges head-on, the party has resorted to gimmicks that only dilute its identity further.

For a party that once prided itself on being unapologetically Hindutva, this attempt to rewrite its narrative comes across as both confusing and disingenuous. Social media has been quick to call out Uddhav Thackeray for turning his father’s legacy into a political farce, with many wondering if the party’s leaders themselves believe in the direction they are heading.

As Shiv Sena (UBT) faces mounting questions about its leadership, alliances, and identity, the dargah spectacle has done little to clarify its future. Instead, it has left observers wondering whether this once-powerful political force has any coherent strategy left—or if it is simply stumbling from one symbolic gesture to the next.

If loyalty could indeed be pledged at a shrine, Uddhav might find himself wishing there was one that could restore political credibility. For now, the party seems to be navigating not toward unity, but toward a deeper crisis of relevance.