AT TIMES Indian politics looks to be a choice between dynasty and disarray. The ruling Congress party has a crude, unmeritocratic but at least decisive method of picking its leader: if you’re a Gandhi, then it’s you. The opposition Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), by contrast, trumpets itself as the “party with a difference” where the best can rise. This week it appeared to be badly split over leadership: the “party of differences”, as wags sniggered.

The BJP problem is generational. Lal Krishna Advani, 85, had dominated it for much of its existence and is desperately unwilling to give it up. The party became a national force in the late 1980s largely because of his skilful organisation and Hindutva (Hindu-nationalist) campaigning. Though too much of a hardliner for voters or coalition allies to accept as prime minister, Mr Advani badly wanted the job.

Indian politics is full of old codgers (see article). Mr Advani is one who should have gone gracefully long ago. The more moderate Atal Bihari Vajpayee had three spells as prime minister. When he became ill Mr Advani lingered as his would-be successor. But a walloping defeat for the BJP in the 2009 general election (coming after defeat in 2004) showed that he was a loser.

Now, to Mr Advani’s jealous dismay, the BJP has found someone else: Narendra Modi, the chief minister of Gujarat. He too is a Hindu nationalist, and is controversial because of communal riots on his watch in the state in 2002, when over 1,000 people, mostly Muslims, were murdered. But he is only 62, has won three state elections on the trot, appears decisive and has a successful economic record in Gujarat. On June 9th, at a big party conclave in Goa, Mr Modi was crowned as the BJP’s chief campaigner for the 2014 general election. Designation as the prime-ministerial candidate is likely to follow.

Mr Advani, who previously considered Mr Modi a protégé, had tried everything to block this. In recent weeks he had talked up the economic achievements of rival and more moderate BJP chief ministers, notably Shivraj Chauhan, of Madhya Pradesh, a once-poor state now doing well. He boycotted the Goa meeting, feigning illness. Then in high dudgeon on June 10th he quit most of his party positions and released a melodramatic letter lamenting falling standards in the BJP and the “personal agendas” of other leaders.

It all looked rather petty, even more so when he withdrew his resignation the following day. “Advani realised the extent of his isolation in the party,” says Swapan Dasgupta, a close observer of the BJP. Crucially the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), a Hindu-nationalist group that is powerful within the party, had (after some hesitation) switched its backing from Mr Advani to Mr Modi.

Congress is naturally gleeful—pleased for a distraction from its latest corruption scandal, involving a steel magnate. One prominent figure, Digvijay Singh, offered insincere condolences to the BJP and criticised what he called the shabby treatment of Mr Advani. If nothing else, the spat distracted attention from Mr Modi at his moment of triumph, and showed the anxieties some colleagues have about him.

Mr Modi faces familiar problems: he must present himself as being more in the mould of the moderate Mr Vajpayee than a hardline Hindutva type like Mr Advani. He could start by apologising for his part in the 2002 riots. If he does not, the BJP’s chances of winning next year by appealing to a wide span of voters will be diminished. One ally in the opposition coalition, the Janata Dal (United), in Bihar, is poised to break away, unable to stomach Mr Modi. Other allies will accept him, but he may struggle to widen the BJP’s appeal beyond its north-western heartland.

Mr Advani, upright and distinguished for all his faults, now looks diminished. For form’s sake, and perhaps to reassure allies, he will retain a prominent role. But his power is leaking. For the BJP, needing to unite and look ahead, that is probably a good thing. So is the timing: better a fracas now than on the eve of voting.