akrishnarao

Tag: history

  • The Great Women’s Reservation Show: Reform or Electoral Strategy?

    Illustration of a woman ascending steps labeled Reservation, Quota, and Reservation in a legislative chamber with supporters holding signs for empowerment and equality and opponents debating.
    “Will this bill pass? My boss is asking me again and again,” a friendly-party MP asked Parliamentary Affairs Minister Kiren Rijiju last week. “Why do you have that doubt? As long as Narendra Modi is Prime Minister, whatever he decides will be achieved under any circumstances. A lot of efforts are happening behind the scenes. Many people will lean towards us. Just wait and watch,” he told that leader. “Not only that, I myself will speak to your boss,” he said, personally calling him and assuring, “There are no obstacles for the bill to pass.” Following this, arrangements were made in that state to gather large numbers of women and celebrate.

    In fact, it did not appear that even the Prime Minister had any apprehension that the bill might not be approved. From the second week of April, women from across the country were being brought to Delhi. BJP national president Nitin Nabin called state presidents and key leaders and instructed them to organize women’s conferences in the states and hold press meets on women’s reservation. A large conference with women was held at Vigyan Bhavan, where Prime Minister Narendra Modi spoke. Key women leaders from the party were brought to the central office and trained to go among the public and speak to the media. Documents were prepared and distributed showing how many seats would increase in which states. Eventually, the Lok Sabha galleries were filled with women representatives. The national capital and Parliament premises were vibrant with women. Many women dreamed that they too would soon enter the House; some even identified their prospective seats.
    However, on the very first day of the Parliament session on April 16, it became clear that the opposition was united. Behind-the-scenes efforts intensified to win over or ensure the absence of opposition members. Modi even had to warn, “If this bill fails, women will not forgive the opposition.” Doubts were raised about whether opposition MPs from states going through elections would attend the session. In West Bengal, Trinamool Congress chief Mamata Banerjee is facing unusually tough competition this time, and her party MPs were deeply engaged in campaigning. Despite efforts to stay united, seven Trinamool MPs had to be absent during voting. Even so, since there was a significant gap between the two-thirds majority required in the Lok Sabha and the NDA’s strength, the constitutional amendment inevitably failed.

    Just as there are many reasons behind Karna’s death, there are many reasons behind the failure of this bill. Why did what was considered a historic moment ultimately turn into a farce? When all parties unanimously approved the constitutional amendment bill for women’s reservation in 2023, why was it opposed now? Why was there a need to modify that bill? If it had to be changed, why were efforts not made to build consensus on it as well? If women’s reservation is to be implemented in 2029, there is still three years’ time—then why extend budget sessions and hold special sessions during ongoing assembly elections? In the Bengal elections, which Modi has taken very prestigiously, was the women’s reservation issue used as a move to attract women voters? If so, why link reservation with an increase in seats through a constitutional amendment? Since an increase in seats would also benefit the Samajwadi Party in Uttar Pradesh, was this strategy aimed at drawing that party closer? Did the government not anticipate that basing delimitation on population, the absence of a proposal for a 50% seat increase, and rising concerns about North–South disparities would lead to suspicion? Even though Home Minister Amit Shah said at the last minute that the bill would be modified, the opposition did not agree—this shows the deep mistrust between the ruling party and the opposition. It also did not appear that the government anticipated criticism that using the 2011 census as a basis would ignore OBCs.
    In our country, politics driven by short-term gains and excessive publicity sometimes pushes back even necessary decisions like women’s representation.

    The job of an MP or MLA is to enact new legislation. They have to perform legislative functions. An MP may represent a single Lok Sabha constituency, but when they sit in the Lok Sabha, they are responsible for the 1.4 billion people of the country. They are part of the law-making process. The laws made by their votes apply to every citizen of the country. They determine each citizen’s fate. The Constitution provides for the executive to handle citizens’ daily needs. The executive is responsible for implementing laws made by the legislature. If Parliament or the Legislative Assemblies make good laws and the executive implements them effectively, citizens’ problems will be resolved.

    Therefore, there is a need to work on improving the quality of laws made in Parliament and the state legislatures. There is a need to work on improving the quality of debate and discussion in Parliament or the Legislative Assemblies. Then, arrangements must be made for better implementation of those laws. Increasing the number of MPs or MLAs will not change anything.

    If there is a water, electricity, or sewage problem in an MP’s constituency, the local administration must resolve it. If there is a law and order problem, the police will address it, not the MP. Therefore, it is essential that the number of police stations be increased in proportion to the population growth, the number of police personnel be increased and they be better trained, and the number of civil service staff and officers be increased so that citizens’ problems can be resolved.

    As the population grows, the number of schools and teachers should be increased. As the population grows, the number of hospitals and doctors should be increased. As the population grows, civic amenities should be developed. As the population grows, infrastructure should be developed. While this is not to say that work is not being done in this direction, it is not being done in proportion to the population growth. No one can deny the fact that the quality of civil services is continuously deteriorating.

    Therefore, the entire delimitation debate is a ‘misplaced priority’. It could also be called ‘barking on the wrong tree’. It will not bring any qualitative change to the country’s current legislative or executive system. On the contrary, it will deepen the division between North and South India.
    If, as Modi hopes, women in large numbers shift toward the BJP in the Bengal elections, the party is bound to achieve a major victory. This time, 200,000 more women voters have been added in Bengal. Out of 67.5 million voters, 34.4 million are women. Moreover, in the last elections, more women than men voted—88% of women cast their vote. Not only in Bengal but across the country, women’s voting percentages are rising faster than men’s. In many states, schemes targeting women have benefited ruling parties in elections. Therefore, there is little doubt that Modi used women’s reservation as a strategic move to attract women voters away from Mamata Banerjee. In fact, compared to all parties, Mamata Banerjee has provided greater representation to women—about 33% in her party. Of 29 Trinamool MPs, 11 are women; 20% of her cabinet are women. This time, the party has given tickets to 52 women, more than any other party. Welfare schemes like Kanyashree and Lakshmi Bhandar have also gained popularity. So whether the BJP can attract women voters through the reservation bill remains debatable—but if the BJP wins, it will have the opportunity to claim that women made the difference.
    More than women, the BJP has focused this time on Hindu-majority seats. In West Bengal’s 294 seats, only 234 have less than 40% Muslim population. The BJP had won 77 of these seats in the last election. Before 1977, Muslims supported Congress; until 2006, the Left; and since then, the Trinamool Congress. They have been a key factor in Mamata’s success.

    The BJP, which had virtually no presence in West Bengal until 2014, secured 17% votes in the 2014 Lok Sabha elections and increased it to 40% in 2019. This percentage hasn’t changed much in the last seven years. The gap between Trinamool and BJP is about five percent. To bridge this, consolidation of Hindu votes is necessary—and within that, Hindu women’s votes are crucial.
    Ultimately, increasing the number of MPs and MLAs may create more political positions and even increase women’s representation numerically, but without deeper institutional reforms, it is unlikely to bring meaningful change on the ground.
     

  • From Masterstroke to Misfire: The Amendment That Backfired

    The failure of the Constitution (131st Amendment) Bill, 2026 marks a significant political and constitutional moment. It demonstrates that even a strong executive cannot always secure its will, and that institutional checks within India’s parliamentary system remain robust. For Prime Minister Narendra Modi, whose style of governance has often been described as decisive and minimally consultative, this episode represents a rare but important setback.

    The Bill, widely expected to pass, fell short of the required two-thirds majority. While 298 members voted in favour and 230 against, it did not meet the threshold of 352 votes out of the 528 members present and voting. In response, the government chose to shelve not only the amendment but also the Delimitation Bill and the Union Territories Laws (Amendment) Bill, arguing that these measures were interconnected. Notably, this is the first time in over a decade in power that such a major legislative initiative has been blocked.

    The Opposition’s coordinated resistance played a crucial role. What initially appeared to be a foregone conclusion turned into a rare moment of unity among diverse political parties. Critics argue that the government’s approach itself contributed to this consolidation, as a top-down style of decision-making left little room for dialogue or consensus-building.

    Rahul Gandhi sharpened the political attack by likening the Prime Minister to a “magician” who had been “caught,” suggesting that the push to expand the Lok Sabha was driven by political calculations rather than genuine reform. According to the Opposition, the proposal sought to reshape India’s electoral map while simultaneously projecting a pro-women image through the reservation component.

    This episode raises a broader question: can strong, centralized leadership consistently deliver effective governance? While such leadership can accelerate decision-making, it may also limit consultation and erode consensus. The perception of “bulldozing” policies—whether accurate or not—can undermine democratic legitimacy. At the same time, it is important to recognize that this pattern is not unique to the current government. Indian political history offers several examples of unilateral decision-making, from the Emergency under Indira Gandhi to the Shah Bano legislation under Rajiv Gandhi.

    The proposal to introduce 33% reservation for women in legislatures is, in itself, a landmark reform. It addresses a long-standing structural imbalance in political representation and has the potential to significantly enhance women’s participation in governance. However, the timing and method of its introduction have raised legitimate concerns. Convening a special session of Parliament during ongoing assembly elections, rather than building broader consensus, invited suspicion about political motives.

    From an electoral perspective, the move is understandable. Women voters now constitute a decisive segment of the electorate, often turning out in greater numbers than men. Welfare policies targeting women have already proven electorally effective across several states. Expanding political representation could further consolidate this support. Even opposition resistance could be framed politically to mobilize women voters in favour of the ruling party.

    Yet, the linkage of women’s reservation with delimitation proved to be the most contentious aspect. Home Minister Amit Shah attempted to reassure critics by offering verbal guarantees that southern states would not lose proportional representation in an expanded Lok Sabha. He even proposed a temporary pause to revise the Bill. However, the Opposition rejected these assurances, pointing out that such safeguards were absent from the Bill’s text.

    As drafted, the proposal relied on the 2011 Census for delimitation, which would likely reduce the representation of states with lower population growth—particularly in southern and northeastern India—while increasing the share of the Hindi heartland. This raised serious concerns about federal balance and fairness.

    The urgency with which the government pursued the amendment further fueled criticism. With the 2026–27 Census still underway, many questioned the need to rush such a significant constitutional change. Linking a broadly supported reform like women’s reservation with a highly divisive issue like delimitation was seen by critics as a strategic miscalculation.

    The Opposition’s unified stance, particularly within the INDIA bloc, proved decisive. Parties such as the Congress, Trinamool Congress, DMK, and the Left coordinated effectively, setting aside differences. In contrast, regional parties like the TDP and AIADMK faced criticism for supporting the Bill based on assurances rather than textual guarantees, despite potential implications for their states.

    The defeat of the Bill has been framed by the Opposition as a victory for constitutional principles. Rahul Gandhi described it as a rejection of an “attack on the Constitution,” while Priyanka Gandhi Vadra emphasized the importance of separating women’s reservation from delimitation. These reactions highlight the broader political narrative that has emerged from the episode.

    Procedurally, the outcome underscores the strength of constitutional safeguards. Amendments of this nature require not only a majority of the total membership but also a two-thirds majority of members present and voting, along with ratification by at least half of the state legislatures in certain cases. These high thresholds are designed to ensure that major structural changes are enacted only with broad consensus—and in this instance, that safeguard functioned as intended.

    Looking ahead, the proposal to expand the Lok Sabha remains contentious. Critics argue that such a move, especially if based on outdated Census data, risks deepening regional imbalances and straining the federal structure. While women’s reservation enjoys wide support, delimitation is likely to remain a politically sensitive and divisive issue.

    Ultimately, the episode highlights a fundamental principle of democracy: process matters as much as outcome. Even well-intentioned reforms can lose legitimacy if they are perceived as unilateral or politically driven. The challenge for any government lies not only in pursuing reform but in building the consensus necessary to sustain it.

  • India at a Turning Point: The Decline of Naxalism and the Road Ahead

    A discussion is scheduled to be held in Parliament on March 30 regarding the measures being taken by the government to eradicate Maoist extremism. In this context, the reported imminent surrender of top Maoist leader Muppala Lakshmana Rao (Ganapathi) is being viewed as a potentially decisive moment. Union Home Minister Amit Shah has reiterated the government’s commitment to eliminate Maoist extremism by March 31, 2026. Recent developments—including the killing of several senior leaders in 2025 and the surrender of nearly 4,000 cadres—indicate that sustained security operations and policy measures have significantly weakened the movement. If Ganapathi surrenders, it would represent not only a strategic setback but also a major symbolic blow to the Naxalite movement.

    The Naxalite movement traces its origins to the 1967 uprising in Naxalbari, where peasants revolted against feudal landlords. Inspired by Maoist ideology, leaders such as Charu Majumdar and Kanu Sanyal mobilized marginalized communities around demands for land redistribution and social justice. Over time, the movement spread across states like Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand, Odisha, and Telangana, forming what came to be known as the “Red Corridor.” The formation of the Communist Party of India (Maoist) in 2004 sought to consolidate the insurgency, though internal divisions had already begun to weaken its cohesion.

    Over the decades, the movement fragmented due to ideological differences, leadership rivalries, and disagreements over strategy. Some factions advocated immediate armed revolution, while others emphasized mass-based political mobilization. Disputes over tactics—including the targeting of civilians—further eroded unity. Even after consolidation attempts, splinter groups continued to emerge, weakening the movement’s overall strength and coordination.

    This fragmentation was accompanied by a steady erosion of public support. While the movement initially drew legitimacy from its opposition to exploitation and inequality, its increasing reliance on violence, extortion, and coercive control alienated the very communities it claimed to represent. As a result, public perception has shifted significantly: encounter deaths of Maoist leaders no longer evoke widespread sympathy, and in many areas, there is growing acceptance—if not quiet support—for state action aimed at restoring stability and enabling development.

    Despite this decline, the persistence of the movement was rooted in structural issues such as land inequality, displacement of tribal populations, governance deficits, and lack of economic opportunities. These conditions enabled Maoists to sustain support in certain pockets and continue guerrilla operations for decades.

    The government’s response evolved significantly over time. Under P. Chidambaram, a coordinated national strategy was introduced that combined security operations with development initiatives. Measures such as synchronized inter-state operations, strengthening of central forces, expansion of intelligence networks, and programs like the Integrated Action Plan aimed to improve infrastructure and governance in affected regions.

    Building on this foundation, the government under Narendra Modi, with Amit Shah leading internal security efforts, has adopted a comprehensive, time-bound, and highly coordinated strategy to eliminate Naxalism. This approach has emphasized close cooperation with state governments, expansion of security infrastructure, improved connectivity, and the implementation of the SAMADHAN doctrine. The increasing use of advanced technologies—including surveillance drones, cyber intelligence, and systems influenced by international practices—has further constrained the operational space available to Maoist groups. In an era of digital monitoring, maintaining secrecy and sustaining long-term insurgency has become significantly more difficult.

    A clear indication of the movement’s internal crisis is the surrender of senior Maoist leader Mallojula Venugopal Rao, who described the CPI (Maoist) as a “failed experiment.” He acknowledged that the movement failed to adapt to changing conditions, underestimated the strength of the Indian state, and gradually lost its social base due to its own mistakes. His appeal to cadres to lay down arms reflects a broader shift within the movement itself.

    Another dimension shaping the trajectory of Naxalism has been its romanticisation by sections of intellectual and cultural circles. In its early decades, it was often portrayed as a heroic struggle against injustice. While such narratives drew attention to genuine social issues, they also created an idealized image of armed revolution that did not align with ground realities. This sometimes misled sections of youth, who were drawn by ideological appeal but later confronted the harsh realities of violence, isolation, and limited outcomes. Over time, the gap between romantic portrayals and lived experiences contributed to disillusionment.

    As the movement declines, previously inaccessible regions—particularly in mineral-rich states like Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand, and Odisha—are opening up for economic and industrial activity. Improved security conditions have reduced operational risks for businesses, enabling infrastructure projects and attracting investment in sectors such as mining, manufacturing, logistics, and telecommunications. This has the potential to generate employment, boost local economies, and integrate remote regions into the national development framework.

    However, this transition also brings important responsibilities. Sustainable progress will depend on ensuring that development does not replicate past patterns of displacement and exploitation. Fair compensation, environmental protection, and meaningful engagement with tribal communities are essential to maintaining long-term stability and preventing the re-emergence of unrest.

    In conclusion, the Naxalite movement has evolved from a peasant uprising in Naxalbari into a major insurgency and now into a weakened, fragmented, and increasingly isolated force. The combined impact of internal divisions, declining public support, sustained security operations, and technological advancements suggests that India may be approaching a decisive turning point. However, the lessons of the past remain crucial. The government must ensure that the conditions which once enabled exploitation and alienation do not re-emerge in new forms. Preventing exploitative practices, safeguarding the rights of vulnerable communities, and ensuring equitable and inclusive development are essential—not only to consolidate current gains but also to ensure that discontent does not give rise to similar movements in different forms in the future.

  • If the Judiciary Is Bleeding, Who Fired the First Shot?

    Screenshot

    There are systematic attempts underway to undermine the institutional authority of the Supreme Court and to damage the reputation of the judiciary. If these attempts are not stopped, the sanctity of the judiciary in the eyes of the people will erode. It will influence the tender minds of the youth. “Shots have been fired at us… the judiciary is bleeding,” expressed Justice Suryakant of the Supreme Court of India in anguish. For describing corruption in the judiciary in an 8th-grade textbook published by the National Council of Educational Research and Training, he went so far as to announce a ban on that very book. He ordered that the book should not be available even in digital form. Following these prohibitory orders, NCERT withdrew several lakh copies of the textbook. It was also reported that a bookstore owner was arrested by the police for selling photocopies of the textbook. “I will not tolerate anyone on this earth attempting to defame the judiciary,” said the Chief Justice.

    When he expressed his anger over the textbook, Prime Minister Narendra Modi was in Israel. Official sources told the media that Modi too was distressed that the judiciary’s sentiments had been hurt and remarked, “Who is overseeing all this?” After returning to the country, Modi reportedly raised the issue in a Cabinet meeting as well. News reports said he remarked, “How can we tell 8th-grade children ourselves that there is corruption in our judiciary?” Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan also expressed regret over including the controversial chapter on corruption in the judiciary in the 8th-grade textbook. “We have immense respect for the judiciary. We did not intend to insult it deliberately,” he said. The Supreme Court sent notices to NCERT Chairman Professor Dinesh Prasad Saklani.

    With the Chief Justice expressing concern, is there really a conspiracy behind this entire episode to defame the judiciary? Are there systematic efforts underway to reduce public respect for the judiciary? In fact, the Congress attempted to create the impression that it was the Modi government itself that engineered this conspiracy. “For a decade, the BJP government has been trying to spread its ideological virus through textbooks. The inclusion of details about corruption in the judiciary was not accidental. It was a systematic attempt to corrupt the minds of students,” said Congress spokesperson Jairam Ramesh. He made indirect remarks suggesting there was evidence that Modi himself guided this process and that the RSS was behind it. Lawyers Kapil Sibal and Abhishek Singhvi, who argue opposition cases in the Supreme Court, made submissions that led Justice Suryakant to treat the matter more seriously. They succeeded in creating the impression that a major conspiracy had taken place.

    It is because people believe that they will ultimately receive justice through the judiciary that lakhs of them approach the courts. If they did not believe courts would deliver justice, there is a possibility that they might resort to vigilante justice instead of going to court. It cannot be said that Justice Suryakant’s view — “We cannot allow students to develop the impression that justice is not available in this country” — is entirely wrong. The textbook mentioned a judgment that described slum dwellers as encroachers. However, by highlighting such instances, it would be inappropriate to portray the entire judiciary as anti-poor.

    Quoting Martin Luther King Jr.’s words, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere,” CBI Special Judge Justice Jitendra Singh, in his recent judgment on the Delhi liquor case, detailed across nearly 600 pages how the CBI allegedly tailored facts to suit its narrative in order to implicate political opponents of the ruling party. He asked, “If even policy decisions taken to strengthen the economy are treated as crimes, how can any government take decisions?” He pointed out the injustice of keeping accused persons imprisoned for months based solely on the statements of approvers and accomplice witnesses. He observed that the right to life and personal liberty did not come from the government’s grace but from the Constitution, and that unless a balance is maintained between the Constitution and statutory law, public trust in the criminal justice system would erode. It is noteworthy that even constitutional benches which had refused stays in several instances in the Delhi liquor cases did not reflect at such depth as the lower court did. Regardless of how much this judgment is challenged in higher courts, the significance of the questions it raises will not diminish.

    By banning a textbook that mentioned corruption in the judiciary, students may lose the opportunity to learn in the classroom about what is happening within the judicial system. The very act of banning it has created greater discussion and drawn more attention to the issue. Do students learn about the world only through textbooks? Just because something is not mentioned in a textbook, will they automatically form a favorable opinion of the judiciary? It is no secret that today social media has far greater influence than any textbook. Do 8th-grade students not watch television or read newspapers? Moreover, as mentioned in the textbook, the government itself has repeatedly informed Parliament that crores of cases are pending across the Supreme Court, High Courts, district and subordinate courts. The textbook also cited remarks made in 2025 by then Chief Justice Justice Gavai that corruption and misconduct in the judiciary erode public trust. Therefore, merely banning the textbook will not increase public respect for the judiciary. It is impossible to conceal such matters from students simply by excluding them from textbooks.

    Secondly, it has become a matter of debate whether the Supreme Court has the constitutional authority to ban a book or a speech. In a democratic society, censoring a book falls under curtailing freedom of expression guaranteed by Article 19. Legal experts are raising questions about whether judicial orders fall within the permissible restrictions under Article 19 and whether the Constitution grants such authority to the judiciary. When their fundamental rights are violated, citizens can approach the courts. But when courts themselves infringe upon fundamental rights, what is to be done? they ask.

    After the strict stance taken by the Supreme Court, NCERT has fallen in line—and so has the government. Everyone is offering clarifications and apologies. NCERT apologized in court and assured that the books would be withdrawn, but the court is not satisfied with that. The Chief Justice has put a stay on the book. But is this really an issue related to corruption in the judiciary, or is there some other story behind it?

    In reality, the chapter titled ‘Corruption in Judiciary’ included in NCERT’s Class 8 book was not an attempt to inform students about corruption existing at any level within the judiciary. It appears to be an effort to raise questions about the credibility of the judiciary and influence public perception. It should be noted that NCERT books are not prepared randomly, as if someone wrote something arbitrarily and it got printed. There is a long process behind it. Every subject has two committees that oversee the entire process—from preparing the content to its publication.

    This chapter appears in the Class 8 Social Science book. It is perhaps just a coincidence that the head of the Curricular Area Group that prepared the Social Science book is a guest professor at IIT Gandhinagar, Michel Danino. This committee oversees the selection and writing of content for social science textbooks. After this comes the National Syllabus and Teaching Learning Materials Committee, a high-level committee that gave the book its final shape. The chairman of this committee is MC Pant, Chancellor of the National School of Planning and Administration. Professor Manjul Bhargava of Princeton University is its co-chair. Apart from them, there are 19 members including Sudha Murty and Sanjeev Sanyal, a member of the Prime Minister’s Economic Advisory Council. Think about it—if all these people have truly fulfilled their responsibilities, it would mean that the book’s content passed through all their scrutiny and none of them found anything objectionable in it. It is worth noting that around the same time, remarks previously made by Sanjeev Sanyal that “the judiciary is the main obstacle to rapid development in this country,” were also brought up.

    So the question is whether a committee that prepares textbook content in line with the prevailing social and political narrative in the country would inadvertently decide to teach eighth-grade students about alleged corruption in the judiciary. It is hard to believe that this happened accidentally.

    Then the question arises: why did the government not defend it in court? If so many people collectively played a role in preparing the book, then either action should be taken against all of them, or the government should defend the book in court. If one closely observes the narrative that has emerged on social media regarding this entire episode, it seems that the objective behind including this chapter in the book has already been achieved. A discussion on corruption in the judiciary has begun, and a debate has also erupted over the Supreme Court’s move to stop this discussion. There is a large group arguing that corruption exists in the judiciary and that it should be investigated and openly discussed. The same group is also saying that the judiciary becomes immediately sensitive about matters concerning itself and does not want its issues to come before the public.

    Senior Supreme Court lawyer and public interest litigator Prashant Bhushan has also objected to certain remarks made by the Supreme Court and some senior lawyers. He wrote on social media that in 2007, Transparency International had said that in public perception, the judiciary was the second most corrupt institution. He wrote that if discussion on this issue is suppressed, it will only strengthen public perception. Later, former NCERT Director JS Rajput also questioned the Supreme Court’s stance and said that stopping discussion on corruption in the judiciary is not appropriate.

    Why should the court react only when corruption in the judiciary is mentioned? Why remain silent when other institutions are criticized? This entire episode has also brought the case of Yashwant Varma back into discussion. Burnt currency notes were reportedly recovered from his residence when he was a judge of the Delhi High Court. The incident took place around Holi last year, and now another Holi has arrived. Nothing has happened in one year. There is an impeachment motion in Parliament that is to be investigated. People are asking what happened after sacks of cash were allegedly recovered from a judge’s residence. If action had been taken and an example set, it would have positively influenced public perception. But no action has been taken on such a major issue of corruption.

    There are those who argue that there is nothing wrong with textbooks discussing the ailments present in the country and that only by discussing them can they be resolved. For example, irregularities in the electoral system have also been discussed in textbooks, including an image of currency notes found in a candidate’s car. Do such incidents not occur? Over time, several allegations have been made against High Court and Supreme Court judges. There are no records of any judge being convicted or impeached over corruption allegations; at most, transfers have taken place. While ordinary citizens and political leaders face CBI raids and ED investigations, why does the same not happen to judges? The very higher judiciary that banned the 8th-grade textbook must answer these questions.

  • “Between Inclusiveness and Centralization: The RSS at a Crossroads”

    What direction does Mohan Bhagwat’s idea of “Sarvesham Avirodhena” — accepting everyone without opposition — suggest for India? The question has gained renewed relevance as the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) enters its centenary phase and its chief addresses diverse audiences across the country. His meetings are drawing an unusually wide cross-section of society. Academics, doctors, lawyers, business leaders, artists, poets, writers, sportspersons, actors, media professionals, former judges, and representatives of voluntary organizations have attended his interactions. Even individuals who once sharply criticized the RSS, as well as those who earlier remained neutral, are now seen at these gatherings. In Mumbai, prominent film personalities were present to listen to him, and in Hyderabad even left-leaning participants attended his address. The sheer diversity of attendees has itself become a subject of discussion, raising questions about whether this reflects ideological curiosity, political pragmatism, or a broader search for direction in uncertain times.

    “Accepting everyone without opposition” implies social harmony that transcends divisions of religion, caste, language, and class. It suggests that minorities are partners in the national journey rather than adversaries, that ideological diversity is natural in a plural society, and that the strength of the nation ultimately rests on the character and discipline of its citizens. Within the RSS framework, this aligns with its long-standing objective of organizing Hindu society. At the same time, Bhagwat has acknowledged that certain earlier hardline positions — particularly some formulations associated with M. S. Golwalkar’s book Bunch of Thoughts — were shaped by specific historical contexts and should not be treated as eternal doctrine. This acknowledgment is widely viewed as an effort to recalibrate ideological emphasis for contemporary India.

    The historical evolution of the RSS provides important perspective. The organization was founded in 1925 by K. B. Hedgewar. An often-overlooked detail is that Hedgewar continued as a member of the Indian National Congress until 1935, even after establishing the RSS. This reflects the fluidity of nationalist politics in the early twentieth century, when ideological boundaries were not rigid. The period witnessed internal debates between moderate and radical tendencies within the Congress, the emergence of Mahatma Gandhi as a mass leader, the formation of the Communist Party of India, the influence of global ideological currents, and powerful social reform movements.

    Among the most significant of these reform efforts was the Mahad Satyagraha of 1927 led by B. R. Ambedkar. At Mahad, Ambedkar mobilized Dalits to assert their right to draw water from a public tank, challenging the entrenched system of untouchability. The movement was a forceful assertion of equality and dignity within Hindu society. The RSS emerged in this broader atmosphere of social churning, when caste hierarchy, representation, and reform were intensely debated. Hedgewar’s emphasis on transcending caste divisions must therefore be understood within this larger historical context.

    After Hedgewar’s death, the RSS underwent further transformation. The distance between the Congress and the RSS widened as Jawaharlal Nehru adopted a European-influenced model of secularism, and the Quit India Movement spearheaded by Gandhi and Nehru sought to rejuvenate mass resistance against colonial rule. Under Golwalkar, the trauma of Partition and communal tensions sharpened the articulation of cultural nationalism. Later, under Balasaheb Deoras, the organization expanded its social and political engagement. Deoras maintained working relations with leaders across ideological divides, including Indira Gandhi and P. V. Narasimha Rao, reflecting a pragmatic openness to dialogue. He also played a role in facilitating the merger of the Bharatiya Jana Sangh with the Janata Party in the post-Emergency period, a development that eventually led to the formation of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). This phase demonstrated that the RSS could influence political realignments while retaining organizational distinctiveness.

    In contemporary India, however, the distinction between the RSS and the BJP is often blurred in public perception. Bhagwat has repeatedly stated that the RSS does not seek political power and should not be equated with the BJP. Yet the BJP’s prolonged tenure under Narendra Modi has given rise to what critics describe as a “one man–one party” model, where political authority and electoral appeal are highly centralized around a single leader. Symbolism has reinforced this perception. When Bhagwat was seen standing behind Modi during the Pranaprathista of Lord Sriram at the Ram Temple in Ayodhya, many observers naturally assumed that Bhagwat stands behind Modi in all his actions and decisions. Such imagery strengthens the impression that ideological and political authority function in close alignment, even if institutional distinctions are formally maintained.

    This generates a fundamental tension. If “Sarvesham Avirodhena” calls for inclusiveness and accommodation, can it coexist with a political structure that appears increasingly centralized? Supporters argue that decisive leadership is necessary in a complex global environment. Critics counter that inclusiveness requires institutional pluralism, space for dissent, and broader participation in shaping national priorities.

    Bhagwat’s recent remarks have also addressed economic and intellectual concerns. He has expressed reservations about uncritical globalization and about the long-term implications of the Indo–US strategic and economic relationship. Observers debate whether such engagements enhance India’s autonomy or deepen structural dependencies. At the same time, Bhagwat has emphasized the urgency of building strong indigenous research ecosystems. Cultural confidence, in his view, must be matched by sustained investment in knowledge creation and innovation. However, India continues to invest less than one percent of its GDP in research and development, and the country lags significantly behind China in scientific and technological advancement.

    Ultimately, Bhagwat’s articulation suggests a vision rooted in cultural nationalism, social cohesion, character building, intellectual self-strengthening, and broad societal outreach. Yet the credibility of “Sarvesham Avirodhena” will depend not merely on its rhetorical appeal but on how effectively it addresses caste inequities, minority concerns, centralized political authority, research deficits, and strategic economic choices. India stands at a transitional juncture reminiscent of earlier periods of ideological debate and reform.

    The final and perhaps most consequential question, therefore, is whether the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh under Bhagwat will actively shape this trajectory. Will it function primarily as a cultural and moral force, offering broad civilizational guidance while maintaining distance from day-to-day politics? Or will it intervene more directly in shaping policy priorities, influencing debates within the Bharatiya Janata Party, and moderating the balance between centralization and inclusiveness?

    If “Sarvesham Avirodhena” is to move beyond rhetoric, the RSS under Bhagwat may have to demonstrate through institutional conduct, public messaging, and social initiatives that inclusiveness is compatible with ideological conviction and strong leadership. Its engagement with questions of social harmony, minority outreach, caste reform, federal balance, and knowledge-driven development will be critical. In that sense, whether the RSS chooses to remain a guiding influence or becomes a more assertive actor may significantly shape how India’s democratic and civilizational journey unfolds in the decades ahead.

  • Constitutional Courts and Economic Power: A Tale of Two Democracies

    The recent ruling of the Supreme Court of the United States striking down former President Donald Trump’s sweeping global tariffs has not only redrawn the limits of executive authority in Washington but also triggered diplomatic and political recalibration in New Delhi. At the core of the episode lies a constitutional constant shared by both democracies: the principle of judicial independence and the judiciary’s role in enforcing the separation of powers.

    In a 6–3 verdict, the U.S. Supreme Court held that the President had exceeded his authority under the International Emergency Economic Powers Act by imposing wide-ranging import duties without explicit congressional approval. Reaffirming that the constitutional power to levy taxes and duties rests with Congress under Article I, Section 8, the Court underscored that emergency powers cannot become a gateway for bypassing legislative authority. The judgment was widely viewed as a strong institutional assertion of judicial independence, especially given the political and economic stakes attached to the tariff regime.

    The ripple effects were immediate. The interim Indo-U.S. trade framework, announced earlier with provisions to reduce reciprocal tariffs on Indian goods from 25% to around 18%, was premised on the enforceability of the U.S. Executive’s tariff structure. With the Supreme Court invalidating the legal foundation of that regime, trade experts suggested that more than half of India’s exports to the United States could revert to standard tariff treatment. Although the U.S. administration subsequently invoked Section 122 of the Trade Act of 1974 to impose temporary global tariffs for 150 days, the long-term contours of the bilateral arrangement remain uncertain. Indian negotiators have reportedly deferred further talks to reassess the new legal landscape, placing the trade deal in a state of cautious pause rather than definitive rollback.

    Domestically, the ruling has intensified political debate. Senior Congress leader Jairam Ramesh questioned the timing of the interim agreement and called for it to be placed on hold until greater clarity emerges from the U.S. side. He urged the government to ensure that import liberalisation would not proceed without legally sustainable commitments and warned of potential adverse effects on Indian farmers cultivating crops such as corn, cotton, soybeans, and apples. Ramesh’s remarks framed the U.S. Court’s decision as an illustration of constitutional checks in action and suggested that India must exercise similar prudence in safeguarding domestic interests.

    The broader debate inevitably draws comparisons with India’s own judicial approach to major economic decisions. The Supreme Court’s judgment in Vivek Narayan Sharma v. Union of India, which upheld the 2016 demonetisation of ₹500 and ₹1000 notes, remains one of the most consequential economic rulings in recent years. By a 4–1 majority, the Court concluded that the decision-making process satisfied the requirements of the Reserve Bank of India Act and that economic policy choices fall within the domain of the Executive unless they violate constitutional or statutory limits. The majority emphasized judicial restraint, holding that courts should not substitute their judgment for that of policymakers in complex fiscal matters.

    However, the verdict also contained a powerful dissent. Justice B.V. Nagarathna held that such a sweeping measure, which invalidated 86% of the currency in circulation overnight, should have been carried out through legislation rather than by executive notification. She argued that bypassing Parliament undermined constitutional procedure and that the RBI’s recommendation process was not independent in substance. Critics of the majority judgment contended that the Court avoided a searching inquiry into the socio-economic impact of demonetisation, including hardship faced by small traders, daily wage earners, and rural populations. They also noted that no retrospective relief was granted despite the acknowledgment of widespread inconvenience.

    India’s judicial engagement with economic power can also be seen in its handling of high-stakes corporate and natural resource disputes. In the case concerning gas extraction from the Krishna-Godavari Basin, the Supreme Court, in a judgment authored by Justice Sudershan Reddy in Reliance Natural Resources Ltd. v. Reliance Industries Ltd. (2010), examined the dispute between the Ambani brothers over gas supply from the KG-D6 block operated by Reliance Industries Limited. The Court held that natural gas is a national asset and that its pricing and allocation fall within the sovereign domain of the Government of India. It ruled that private family agreements could not override government policy or the production-sharing contract framework. The verdict reaffirmed that natural resources are held in trust for the public and that executive policy decisions regarding their allocation must align with constitutional principles.

    That judgment underscored an important dimension of judicial independence in India: the willingness to assert the State’s sovereign control over strategic resources while resisting attempts to privatise public policy through corporate agreements. At the same time, the Court showed deference to governmental policy prerogatives in determining pricing and allocation, thereby balancing judicial review with executive competence in economic administration.

    This contrast between the U.S. Supreme Court’s assertive invalidation of executive tariffs and the Indian Supreme Court’s deferential stance in demonetisation highlights differing judicial temperaments. While both courts operate within robust constitutional frameworks, the American ruling reflects a readiness to directly curtail executive economic power on separation-of-powers grounds. The Indian verdict, in contrast, underscored institutional restraint in matters of fiscal policy, even as dissenting voices articulated constitutional concerns about process and parliamentary oversight.

    Earlier landmark cases such as Kesavananda Bharati v. State of Kerala had established that judicial review and separation of powers form part of the Constitution’s basic structure, beyond Parliament’s amending power. Yet, the demonetisation ruling demonstrated that the exercise of judicial independence is often calibrated rather than absolute. The Court reaffirmed its authority to review executive action but chose a limited standard of scrutiny in economic governance.

    As the Indo-U.S. trade deal stands at a crossroads, these developments serve as a reminder that judicial decisions can reshape not only domestic governance but also international economic relations. The U.S. Supreme Court’s judgment has recalibrated trade diplomacy, while India’s own judicial precedents continue to shape debates over executive accountability in economic policymaking. In both democracies, the judiciary remains a central constitutional actor—sometimes assertive, sometimes restrained—but always pivotal in defining the limits of power.

  • Telangana Checkmates BJP

    It was reported in the media that on December 11, 2025, Prime Minister Narendra Modi, in a review meeting with his party leaders, expressed dissatisfaction with the performance of BJP MPs from Telangana. The meeting appears to have conveyed a clear message to Telangana BJP leaders: set aside internal differences, work as a united team, strengthen grassroots outreach, and make better use of social media to improve the party’s prospects in the state. Modi is said to have remarked that although the party has strong potential in Telangana, leadership weaknesses and internal factionalism are weakening it. Despite having eight MPs and two Union Ministers, the party has not effectively played the role of a strong opposition, he reportedly observed.

    But what happened in the recent municipal elections held for seven corporations and 116 municipalities in Telangana? The BJP, which emerged as the single largest party in neighbouring Maharashtra elections, secured third place in Telangana with just 15.68 percent of the votes. With eight MPs — half of the total Lok Sabha seats from the state — and an equal number of MLAs, the party won only 259 wards and not even a single municipality. The saffron party’s performance in other municipalities falling under the Lok Sabha constituencies represented by its MPs has been dismal. Though the BJP has the potential to grow in Telangana, especially after its good Lok Sabha results, it has not fully capitalized on the opportunities. However, strong local leaders have made some difference in places like Karimnagar and Nizamabad, but this will not be sufficient to give a tough fight in the next Lok Sabha elections.

    The municipal results followed strong performances in recent Panchayat elections, where Congress-supported candidates secured approximately 66 percent of Gram Panchayats statewide. In an Assembly segment-wise analysis, Congress secured majorities in 68 out of 81 constituencies where municipal elections were held. After forming the government on December 7, 2023, Congress also won the Cantonment by-election and the Jubilee Hills by-election. This indicates that both urban and rural voters are increasingly supporting Congress.

    The credit goes to Mr. Revanth Reddy, the Chief Minister of Telangana, who has been able to stop the juggernaut of the BJP in the state, despite the Prime Minister himself showing keen interest in Telangana. Under his leadership, the Congress party has demonstrated its strength convincingly. These elections were held at a time when there was widespread speculation in political circles that public dissatisfaction with the Revanth Reddy government was growing. The principal opposition, BRS, had been strongly criticizing the government and claiming that its end was near. Given that the government had completed two years, interest in the municipal results was high, and doubts were raised about Congress’ prospects.

    However, contrary to predictions, Congress performed well. Though leaders like KTR may not acknowledge the importance of the results, it is significant for a party like Congress, which is often known for internal dissent, to achieve this level of success. Revanth Reddy’s strategy ensured favorable outcomes across both North and South Telangana. Districts like Nizamabad, Adilabad, and Karimnagar, previously considered strongholds of BJP and BRS, saw gains for Congress. Even in his home district of Mahabubnagar, where BRS appeared strong, Congress made inroads.

    The Congress party attributes its success to development and welfare initiatives under Chief Minister Revanth Reddy, such as ₹17,000 crore spent on urban development, 200 units of free electricity for poor families, free RTC bus travel for women, issuance of 30 lakh ration cards, expansion of Rajiv Aarogyasri coverage from ₹5 lakh to ₹10 lakh, construction of 3,500 houses per constituency, and the Young India Integrated Schools initiative.

    Apart from its socio-economic agenda, it seems that Revanth Reddy adopted a clever strategy of not completely annihilating the BRS. He understands that if the BRS is finished, it would create space for the BJP to rise. He instead put the BRS on the defensive by exposing alleged corrupt practices such as the Kaleswaram project and the telephone tapping controversy. It is a strategy similar to the one adopted by KCR a few years ago, when he allowed the BJP to rise after sensing that Revanth Reddy was gaining momentum in the state as a Congress leader.

    The Telangana setback for the BJP has come at a time when the party is facing pressure from opposition parties at the national level over issues such as General Naravane’s book, Indo-US trade matters, and elections in five states. The political graph of Narendra Modi appears to be facing challenging weather, and the Modi-Shah duo are trying their best to prevent it from declining.

    Revanth Reddy has shown the Congress party a path forward. The Congress should not confine itself to parliamentary tactics alone; it must reach out to the people on issues such as farmers’ concerns, price rise, and unemployment, and strengthen the party at the grassroots level.

  • Freebies or Bribery? India’s Welfare State on Constitutional Trial

    The debate over “freebies” in Indian politics has now entered the constitutional arena, with the Supreme Court of India agreeing to examine whether pre-election promises of cash transfers funded from the public exchequer amount to a “corrupt practice” under the Representation of the People Act, 1951. The Supreme Court said the petition will be heard in March. What began as a political accusation has evolved into a deeper inquiry into fiscal responsibility, democratic fairness, and the character of India’s welfare state. At stake is not merely the legality of campaign promises, but the broader balance between social justice and macroeconomic prudence in a competitive democracy.

    Tamil Nadu Chief Minister M.K. Stalin’s announcement on February 13, 2026, implementing a major bonanza for women in the poll-bound state of Tamil Nadu—crediting ₹5,000 each to the bank accounts of 1.31 crore women family heads who are beneficiaries under the scheme Kalaignar Magalir Urimai Thittam (KMUT)—has added further interest to the debate.

    The petition filed by BJP leader Ashwini Kumar Upadhyay raises foundational questions. Can electoral promises financed from public funds distort the level playing field? Where does legitimate welfare end and electoral inducement begin? And should courts regulate what is essentially a political and fiscal policy choice? The Representation of the People Act identifies certain forms of bribery and inducement as corrupt practices, yet it does not clearly define whether manifesto promises of welfare schemes fall within that ambit. This definitional ambiguity has allowed successive governments across party lines to expand direct benefit transfers without clear judicial boundaries.

    The controversy gains urgency when viewed through the prism of fiscal sustainability. In Maharashtra, the Ladki Bahin Yojana reportedly costs approximately ₹46,000 crore annually—nearly 8 percent of the state’s total budget—at a time when the fiscal deficit exceeds ₹66,000 crore. Such recurring commitments constrain fiscal space for capital expenditure on infrastructure, education, and healthcare. The 2019 farm loan waiver of roughly ₹25,000 crore provided immediate relief but was widely criticized for restricting long-term investment capacity. Economists warn that debt-financed consumption spending can crowd out growth-oriented expenditure, raise debt-to-GSDP ratios, and increase interest burdens that future taxpayers must bear. The Reserve Bank of India has cautioned that excessive non-merit subsidies may affect macroeconomic stability, underscoring the long-term risks of fiscally expansive populism.

    Yet the debate is complicated by the absence of a universally accepted definition of a “freebie.” Economist C. Rangarajan has suggested distinguishing between subsidies on merit goods such as education and health and non-merit transfers that lack productivity linkages. But even this distinction is not always clear. Is free electricity for farmers a distortionary subsidy or a growth investment? Is free education merely welfare, or a constitutional obligation under the right to education framework? Is unconditional income support empowerment for vulnerable households, or an electoral inducement timed for political gain? The boundary between welfare and populism is not merely economic; it is normative and political.

    International comparisons add nuance but not easy solutions. Countries such as Germany and South Korea operate structured welfare systems in which benefits are often linked to employment search requirements, skill development, or contributory social insurance. These systems are embedded within stable fiscal architectures and high levels of formal employment. India, by contrast, confronts a large informal sector, weak employment absorption, and rising aspirations among its population. In such a setting, unconditional cash transfers are administratively simpler and politically more attractive than complex structural reforms.

    Electoral timing further complicates perceptions of legitimacy. In several states, welfare schemes have been expanded, advanced, or newly announced shortly before elections. Even when legally permissible, such timing creates the impression that public finances are being leveraged for electoral advantage. The criticism is not confined to one political formation. Prime Minister Narendra Modi has warned against what he termed “revdi culture,” arguing that fiscally irresponsible promises burden future generations. Yet critics note that the Modi government is providing free food grains to over 81 crore beneficiaries under the Pradhan Mantri Garib Kalyan Anna Yojana (PMGKAY) to ensure food security and reduce financial burdens. This initiative covers Antyodaya Anna Yojana (AAY) and Priority Households (PHH) under the National Food Security Act, with a five-year budget of ₹11.80 lakh crore. Moreover, BJP-led governments in states such as Assam, Delhi, Maharashtra, and Madhya Pradesh operate substantial direct transfer schemes of their own. What emerges is less an ideological contradiction than a structural incentive within a competitive democracy.

    Direct transfers produce immediate and visible benefits to identifiable voters. Infrastructure projects, by contrast, yield slower and more diffuse gains that are harder to attribute to a particular government. In an electoral environment where tangible short-term relief can decisively influence outcomes, parties across the spectrum may feel compelled to adopt similar strategies. The result is a normalization of competitive cash-transfer politics, where the debate shifts from whether to provide transfers to how large and how frequent they should be.

    As the Supreme Court considers the legal framework, it faces a delicate institutional balance. An aggressive intervention could risk judicial overreach into policymaking and blur the separation of powers. A restrained approach, however, may leave fiscal populism unchecked in shaping electoral competition. The solution may not lie in absolute prohibition or blanket endorsement, but in greater transparency and accountability. Mechanisms such as mandatory fiscal impact disclosures in manifestos, adherence to medium-term fiscal responsibility frameworks, or the establishment of independent fiscal councils could introduce discipline without undermining democratic choice.

    Ultimately, the freebies debate reflects a deeper tension within India’s development trajectory—between redistribution and growth, between immediate relief and long-term investment, and between electoral competition and fiscal prudence. In a democracy committed to both social justice and economic stability, the challenge is not to eliminate welfare but to design it responsibly. Whether cash transfers represent empowerment or populism depends on their timing, targeting, sustainability, and measurable outcomes. The Court may clarify legal boundaries, but the enduring balance between welfare and responsibility will remain a political question, to be negotiated through informed public debate and accountable governance.

  • Privilege, Politics and Policy: The Debate After Rahul Gandhi’s Speech

    The political storm following Leader of the Opposition Rahul Gandhi’s speech in the Lok Sabha has shifted from economic policy to parliamentary privilege. The Bharatiya Janata Party is reportedly considering a privilege motion against him over remarks linking senior leaders to the so-called “Epstein Files.” Union Minister Hardeep Singh Puri has firmly rejected the allegations as “baseless,” clarifying that his limited interactions with Jeffrey Epstein were in the context of an International Peace Institute delegation and unrelated to any criminal matters.

    Whether Gandhi’s remarks constitute a breach of parliamentary privilege is ultimately a matter for the Speaker of the Lok Sabha, who must interpret them within established rules and precedents. Parliament provides wide latitude for political speech, but it also imposes responsibility. That determination should be made institutionally and without partisan escalation.

    Yet focusing exclusively on the privilege question risks overlooking the larger policy issues raised in the speech — issues that warrant substantive engagement rather than procedural confrontation.

    The Strategic Context

    In his address, Rahul Gandhi framed the Union Budget and the India–U.S. trade understanding within a broader geopolitical narrative. He argued that the global order is entering a phase of instability marked by conflict, technological rivalry, and the weaponisation of energy and finance. In such an environment, he contended, India must negotiate from a position of strength.

    At the core of his argument was the assertion that India possesses three strategic assets: its population and digital data, its agricultural base, and its energy sovereignty. According to him, recent trade negotiations risk diluting these strengths.

    These are consequential claims. They deserve careful examination.

    One area of concern raised relates to digital trade rules. Has India altered its position on data localisation? Are cross-border data flows being liberalised in ways that constrain regulatory autonomy? Do trade commitments affect India’s ability to impose digital taxes or regulate major technology firms?

    Given the centrality of data to artificial intelligence and digital sovereignty, clarity on these points is essential. Trade agreements in the digital domain often contain complex provisions that are not easily understood without detailed disclosure.

    A transparent explanation of the Government’s commitments would help dispel uncertainty.

    Agriculture and Market Access

    Gandhi also warned that the trade framework could expose Indian farmers to competition from highly mechanised American agriculture. India’s agricultural economy is dominated by small and marginal farmers whose cost structures differ significantly from those of large-scale U.S. farms.

    The key question is whether tariff reductions or market access commitments contain adequate safeguards. If protections remain intact, the Government should clearly articulate them. If phased adjustments are planned, their timeline and compensatory measures should be made public.

    Food security is not merely an economic issue; it is a matter of national resilience.

    Energy Sovereignty

    Energy security formed the third pillar of Gandhi’s critique. In an era when sanctions, supply disruptions and geopolitical tensions influence energy markets, any perception that India’s sourcing flexibility is constrained can generate concern.

    Here again, clarity matters. If India retains full sovereign discretion over its energy imports, an unequivocal statement to that effect would strengthen confidence.

    Trade Balance and Industrial Impact

    Concerns were also expressed about tariff asymmetry and potential sectoral impacts, particularly in textiles. Trade agreements often produce winners and losers across industries. The role of government is to ensure that transitions are managed, vulnerabilities are addressed, and competitiveness is strengthened.

    A detailed presentation of expected gains and sector-specific protections would elevate the discussion beyond rhetoric.

    Democratic Accountability Over Escalation

    The controversy over alleged personal references and the potential privilege motion should not overshadow the importance of answering substantive policy questions. Democratic accountability requires both responsible speech from the Opposition and transparent explanation from the Government.

    Prime Minister Narendra Modi enjoys a strong domestic mandate and significant international stature. Supporters argue that his government would not compromise India’s interests in any negotiation. That confidence can only be reinforced through openness.

    Parliamentary debate is not an act of defamation; it is a mechanism of scrutiny. Equally, allegations must be supported by evidence. The health of democratic institutions depends on maintaining this balance.

    If a privilege motion is moved, it should proceed strictly within parliamentary rules. But beyond procedural action, what the moment calls for is clarity — on the nature of India’s trade commitments, on safeguards for farmers and industry, and on the preservation of data and energy sovereignty.

    In times of global uncertainty, trust in national leadership is strengthened not by silencing dissent, but by addressing it transparently.

    The Government has an opportunity to do precisely that.

  • In Search of Lost Standards

    “Lok Sabha’s first Speaker G.V. Mavalankar, the second Speaker Ananthasayanam Ayyangar, and the first Chairman of the Rajya Sabha and Vice President Dr. Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan had a profound influence on the functioning of parliamentary institutions. They conducted themselves with dignity and impartiality while framing rules, procedures, conventions, and practices. Even though the Jana Sangh had no representation in the Rajya Sabha, I used to watch the proceedings from the visitors’ gallery. It was because of them that I had the opportunity to learn about Question Hour, adjournment motions, bills and resolutions, standing committees, calling attention notices, members’ privileges, and many other aspects. Eminent leaders sitting on the opposition benches spoke with as much eloquence as those on the treasury benches. The Speaker acted as an honest guardian of the rights of the opposition. It was because of these noble traditions that Indian democracy withstood many tests and maintained its international reputation.”

    These words were written by none other than Lal Krishna Advani, one of the founders of the Bharatiya Janata Party, in his autobiography My Country–My Life, describing the parliamentary standards of earlier times.

    Standards endure only when individuals uphold them. If individuals sacrifice standards for personal interests, no standards remain worth citing as examples. If declining social standards enter Parliament, the current functioning of legislatures is proof of what happens. “Guide us. If we go astray, correct us if necessary. Advise us. Scrutinize our conduct,” India’s first Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru requested the first Lok Sabha Speaker G.V. Mavalankar. Mavalankar acted accordingly. Whenever serious differences arose, the Prime Minister and the Speaker would consult and resolve them. On one occasion, there was an argument between Nehru and Mavalankar in the House. Nehru wanted to make a second statement the same day, but Mavalankar clarified that it was against the rules. Nehru accepted and withdrew.

    Mavalankar strongly opposed the frequent promulgation of ordinances. He insisted they should be issued only in rare emergencies and that laws must be made in Parliament. He even wrote to the Prime Minister on this matter. If any legal doubt arose, he personally consulted the Attorney General, asserting that the Speaker must function like a judge. Nehru accorded him equal respect. When officials complained to Nehru that parliamentary committees were subjecting their decisions to excessive scrutiny, Nehru replied that it was not within his domain and advised them to approach the Speaker. Many rules framed by Mavalankar remain in force even today. The first Lok Sabha Secretary-General Shakdher described him as a Speaker who maintained balance between the ruling and opposition parties, conducted the House efficiently, and safeguarded public interest. It is noteworthy that Mavalankar, who insisted that Parliament must remain independent of government control, was elected from Gujarat.

    After Mavalankar’s death, Ananthasayanam Ayyangar followed the same path. Born into a Vaishnava Brahmin family in Tiruchanur near Tirupati, he conducted the Lok Sabha impartially. He once stated: “Under a dictatorship or absolute monarchy, citizens’ lives and freedoms have no protection. If the dictator is benevolent, people may live well. But even in a democracy, there is a danger that dominant groups may behave dictatorially and suppress those in smaller numbers. The only person who can firmly control such tendencies and protect minority interests in the House is the Speaker.” He remarked that there were no greater orators than Hiren Mukherjee (CPI) in English and Atal Bihari Vajpayee (Jana Sangh) in Hindi. Even without formal recognition of an Opposition Leader due to inadequate numbers, Ayyangar gave full respect and opportunity to opposition members. In the second Lok Sabha, both ruling and opposition members unanimously proposed his re-election as Speaker — a testimony to the standards he upheld. In 1972, when a Dalit Christian candidate contested from Tirupati, Ayyangar campaigned to support him at Congress’s request, responding to critics by saying, “Secularism is embedded within Vishishtadvaita.” This was later revealed by former Prime Minister P.V. Narasimha Rao.

    After Mavalankar, Speaker Sardar Hukam Singh admitted no-confidence motions against Nehru’s government, declaring that Parliament held supremacy over the government. His successor Neelam Sanjiva Reddy allowed a discussion on a no-confidence motion on the very day the President addressed both Houses. During his tenure, the first parliamentary committee on the welfare of Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes was formed.

    Gradually, parliamentary standards began to decline from 4th Lok Sabha. During the Emergency, parliamentary proceedings were censored in unprecedented ways, yet the presiding officers remained silent. Indira Gandhi forced G.S. Dhillon to resign as Speaker and appointed him Shipping Minister the same day. After the Emergency, Speakers such as K.S. Hegde, Balram Jakhar, Rabi Ray, Shivraj Patil, P.A. Sangma, Balayogi, Manohar Joshi, and Somnath Chatterjee each tried in their own way to uphold the dignity of the office. Balayogi, the first Dalit and first Speaker from a regional party, maintained such neutrality that during his tenure the Vajpayee government fell by just one vote. Later, during the tenures of women Speakers Meira Kumar and Sumitra Mahajan, frequent disruptions occurred. The Telangana movement made Meira Kumar’s tenure extremely difficult, while increasing confrontation between ruling and opposition parties during Narendra Modi’s premiership placed Sumitra Mahajan in a challenging position. Since then, tensions have intensified, and Speaker Om Birla too has found himself in a helpless situation over the past six years, with parliamentary standards steadily declining.

    Recently, opposition parties moved a no-confidence motion against Om Birla for not allowing Congress leader Rahul Gandhi to speak — a sign of the deteriorating condition of Indian democracy. If a discussion had been allowed on former Army General Naravane’s book on the India–China conflict, and if the government had responded, people would have had the opportunity to assess the facts. Instead, opposition parties stalled Parliament. Sessions ended without full discussions on the President’s Address or the Budget, and without the Prime Minister speaking in the Lok Sabha. Furthermore, the Speaker himself claimed he had information that women MPs were planning to attack Modi — an unusual development. In reality, both government and opposition are responsible for failing to show flexibility and for using Parliament as a political arena. In an atmosphere where mutual respect is absent, no one expects the Speaker to remain impartial. As a result, the office of the Speaker too appears to be losing its dignity.

    “The Speaker represents the entire House. He reflects its dignity and freedom. Since the House represents the nation, the Speaker becomes a symbol of freedom in the country. It is therefore a position of great honor. Only individuals of the highest competence and impartiality should occupy it,” said Nehru. But it is impossible to compare those days with the present. Those in power then sought to set standards themselves and serve as role models for future generations. At a time when the country aspires toward a ‘Viksit Bharat’ (Developed India), leaders must internally deliberate on preserving parliamentary democratic standards within a defined timeframe.