Ranchi, Aug 4 (UNI),2025: Shibu Soren did not begin his life with the ambition to govern. Born in 1944 in a modest tribal household in Nemra village, Ramgarh, he grew up witnessing systemic injustice, and lived the brutal reality of land seizures, forest exclusion, and social alienation. He didn’t enter politics for power. He entered it because people like him had no power.
In that sense, Shibu Soren never really left the movement even after becoming the government.
Known widely as Dishom Guru, Soren was many things at once — a folk hero, a feared agitator, a reluctant administrator, and, above all, the unflinching voice of Jharkhand’s tribal soul. He spent his early political years organising ‘hul” (rebellions) against land dispossession and bonded labour, leading to the formation of the Jharkhand Mukti Morcha in the early 1970s — a party that wasn’t just a political outfit, but a social assertion.
While national politics often overlooked tribal issues, Soren forced them on to the agenda with grit, sometimes fury. He wasn’t polished, but he was grounded. He wasn’t fluent in policy jargon, but he spoke a language that echoed in the hills of Santhal Pargana and the forests of Chaibasa.
His fight culminated in the creation of Jharkhand in 2000 — a state carved from the dreams of dispossessed people who had found in Soren a leader who looked like them, spoke like them, and suffered like them.
He served as Jharkhand’s Chief Minister thrice, though his administrative tenures were often brief and tumultuous. He also served as Union Coal Minister in 2004 during the UPA government. But governance was never his strong suit. His strength lay in symbolism — in what he represented more than what he ruled. Even when political storms engulfed him, controversies shadowed him, and allies deserted him, his identity as the father of Jharkhand’s statehood remained untouched.
Soren was not without contradictions. His movement was pure, his politics often murky. The shift from street to seat, from slogans to bureaucracy, was never smooth. But for the millions who saw him as Guruji, these imperfections only humanised him further. He was one of their own — flawed, fierce, and faithful.
In his final years, Soren withdrew from the public eye but remained the ideological spine of the Jharkhand Mukti Morcha. His son Hemant rose to leadership, while his daughter-in-law Kalpana and youngest son Basant entered the Assembly. The family’s political tree branched out, but the roots stayed deep in the soil Shibu once tilled with anger and hope. On August 4, at 8:56 am, Shibu Soren breathed his last at a hospital in New Delhi. The news sent a wave of silence through Jharkhand — a silence not of surprise, but of reverence. He had been unwell for weeks, battling infections and age, but perhaps also tired of a world that had moved far from the kind of politics he once embodied.
He is survived by his wife, sons Hemant and Basant, and daughter-in-law Kalpana — all in politics. His eldest son, Durga Soren, died young; Durga’s wife, Sita Soren, is with the Bharatiya Janata Party.
For Jharkhand, his passing is not just the loss of a leader but the fading of a generation that lived its politics before it performed it. The hills may remain, the forests may endure, but the voice that once roared in their defence has now fallen silent.
Yet in every cry for land, every protest for dignity, and every whispered story of resistance, Shibu Soren will live on — not as a politician, but as the conscience of a state that he helped dream into existence.
