A political storm erupted in Maharashtra ahead of the crucial municipal elections after Tamil Nadu BJP president K Annamalai’s remarks about Mumbai triggered sharp reactions from regional parties. Seeking to defuse the controversy, Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis on Wednesday came to Annamalai’s defence, asserting that the comments stemmed from a “language mix-up” rather than any intention to insult the city or its people.

The row began after Annamalai, who has been campaigning as one of the BJP’s star speakers for the civic polls in Maharashtra, made a statement on January 9 describing “Bombay” as not a Maharashtrian city but an international one. His use of the city’s old colonial-era name, along with the phrasing of his remark, quickly drew outrage from opposition parties, particularly the Shiv Sena (Uddhav Balasaheb Thackeray faction) and the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena (MNS), led by cousins Uddhav and Raj Thackeray.

Reacting to the backlash, Chief Minister Fadnavis sought to contextualise Annamalai’s statement and urged political rivals not to inflame sentiments. “Annamalai may not be a national leader, but when people from different states travel, words can get mixed up due to limited language proficiency,” Fadnavis said while speaking to news agency ANI. He stressed that the BJP leader’s intent should not be misconstrued based on semantics alone.

“He might have mistakenly said ‘Bombay’, but that does not mean he was insulting Mumbai,” Fadnavis added. The chief minister also turned the spotlight back on the opposition, questioning the tone and language used by leaders who criticised Annamalai. “We should also look at the language those people used while reacting to his statement,” he remarked.

Drawing a parallel, Fadnavis said that such slips are common in everyday speech and do not automatically imply disrespect. “Sometimes people still say ‘Madras’ or use the word ‘Madrasi’ even though the name has changed to Chennai. Does that mean they are insulting Chennai? This is just an attempt to mislead people and provoke emotions,” he argued.

The controversy has unfolded at a sensitive political moment, with Maharashtra gearing up for high-stakes municipal elections, including the Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) polls. Mumbai, as both the financial capital of India and a powerful symbol of Marathi identity, has historically been a lightning rod for regional pride and political mobilisation. Any perceived slight to the city tends to provoke strong reactions, particularly from parties that draw their strength from sub-national identity politics.

Opposition leaders wasted no time in seizing upon Annamalai’s remarks. Shiv Sena (UBT) leaders accused the BJP of showing contempt for Maharashtra and its people, while the MNS escalated the rhetoric to a more aggressive pitch. At a rally at Shivaji Park on Sunday, MNS chief Raj Thackeray played a video clip of Annamalai’s statement and used it to launch a scathing attack not just on the BJP leader but on what he described as outsiders disrespecting Maharashtra.

Invoking a controversial slogan from the 1960s that targeted migrants from southern India, Raj Thackeray said, “Hatao lungi bajao pungi,” a line that has long been associated with anti-South Indian sentiment in Maharashtra’s political history. He also made remarks about the attire of Tamil people and questioned their place in the state, drawing criticism for reviving divisive rhetoric.

Raj Thackeray went further by mocking Annamalai personally, twisting his name in a jibe. “One rasmalai came from Tamil Nadu. What is your connection to here?” he asked at the rally, intensifying the war of words and sharpening the regional undertones of the controversy.

Uddhav Thackeray’s Shiv Sena faction also joined the attack. Sena (UBT) leader Aaditya Thackeray alleged that Annamalai’s remarks reflected the BJP’s broader attitude towards Maharashtra. “This shows that the BJP only wants to insult and loot Maharashtra,” Aaditya said, according to ANI. He also took a dig at Annamalai’s political standing in his home state, adding, “Annamalai is the face of the BJP, which is ‘zero’. He could not win there in Tamil Nadu and even lost his deposit.”

The sharp criticism from the Thackerays prompted an equally forceful response from Annamalai. Rejecting the allegations, he questioned the authority of his critics to threaten or lecture him. “Who are Aaditya Thackeray and Raj Thackeray to threaten me?” he said. “I am proud to be a farmer’s son. They have organised meetings just to abuse me. I don’t know whether I have become that important.”

Annamalai also clarified his original intent, arguing that his comments had been misinterpreted deliberately. “If I say Kamaraj, the freedom fighter and former chief minister, is one of India’s greatest leaders, does that mean he is no longer a Tamil?” he asked. “If I say Mumbai is a world-class city, does that mean Maharashtrians didn’t build it?”

By framing his remarks in this way, Annamalai sought to underline that praising Mumbai’s global stature was not the same as denying its Maharashtrian identity. He insisted that the controversy was being manufactured for political gain ahead of the civic polls.

The BJP, meanwhile, has attempted to close ranks around Annamalai, with Fadnavis’s defence seen as a clear signal that the party does not intend to distance itself from the Tamil Nadu leader. For the ruling alliance in Maharashtra, the immediate challenge is to prevent the issue from snowballing into a broader narrative of “outsiders versus locals” — a trope that regional parties have historically used to great effect in Mumbai politics.

For the opposition, however, the episode offers an opportunity to reignite emotive themes of Marathi pride and cultural identity, particularly in the run-up to municipal elections where local sentiments play a decisive role. By projecting Annamalai’s remarks as an insult to Mumbai and Maharashtra, parties like the Shiv Sena (UBT) and the MNS are seeking to consolidate their core voter base.

As the political temperature rises, the controversy underscores how language, symbolism and identity continue to shape electoral battles in Maharashtra. What began as a remark during a campaign speech has now evolved into a full-blown political flashpoint, with leaders across parties trading barbs and invoking deeper historical grievances.

Whether Fadnavis’s attempt to frame the issue as a simple “language mix-up” will succeed in calming tempers remains to be seen. For now, the row has added yet another layer of intensity to an already charged civic poll season, reminding observers that in Maharashtra politics, words — especially those linked to Mumbai — carry weight far beyond their literal meaning.