The entire political establishment is collectively dismantling the legal mechanisms designed to prevent defections. That is the unfortunate truth.
Published Aug 04, 2025 | 8:00 AM ⚊ Updated Aug 04, 2025 | 8:00 AM
Revanth Reddy and KT Rama Rao.
Synopsis: When an elected representative defects from their party, it is not just a matter of disobedience to party leadership. It is a betrayal of the people’s mandate, a slap in the face of the voters. A minimum democratic norm would be that one must resign from the position earned in the name of one party before switching to another. If the BRS has no moral right to oppose the defections encouraged by Congress, who will then be a strong, credible voice to challenge such undemocratic practices?
“Moral right” is an interesting term. People often say, “You don’t have the moral right to say that,” or, “You can’t demand that.”
But when even the rights enshrined in the Constitution and laws go unheeded, who really cares about moral rights? In our society, especially in our systems of power, where do morality and ethical conviction lie?
Today, it hardly matters what is being questioned; instead, the focus is always on who is asking. Someone guilty today will raise questions tomorrow. The person who raised questions yesterday may now be the one in the wrong today.
In the case of Telangana’s defector MLAs, the Supreme Court has clearly stated that the Speaker must deliver a decision within three months, by 31 October. The opposition is hopeful that disqualification is now inevitable, followed by by-elections, and is even celebrating the court’s verdict as a major victory.
However, the ruling party dismisses this optimism, arguing that a party with a long history of encouraging defections has no moral right to speak about the Supreme Court’s decision.
What is even more surprising is how the general public has started viewing this issue as just another power struggle between the ruling and opposition parties.
Even if the defector MLAs are disqualified, the Congress government will still retain its majority, though Chief Minister Revanth Reddy’s team strength might decline. If the Congress fails to win the by-elections, the fence-sitters may lean towards the BRS.
Even without moral rights, moral victories and defeats influence political outcomes. Any setback for the ruling government can carry a political cost.
The tragedy, however, is that analysts, commentators, and politically engaged citizens are all busy calculating numbers without pausing to reflect on the damage being done to democracy itself.
The anti-defection law, in the Tenth Schedule of the Constitution, was introduced to bring morality into politics as a constitutional value. After the Janata government collapsed and the Congress returned to power, widespread defections had created public disillusionment. It was under Rajiv Gandhi’s tenure, perhaps emboldened and assured by the 400-plus majority, that the law was enacted.
Since then, political parties have done little more than search for loopholes to neutralise it. From Parliament to local bodies, efforts have continued to undermine or subvert public mandates.
When an elected representative defects from their party, it is not just a matter of disobedience to party leadership. It is a betrayal of the people’s mandate, a slap in the face of the voters. Yet, in such cases, the public has no legal recourse to stop the betrayal. A minimum democratic norm would be that one must resign from the position earned in the name of one party before switching to another.
In the 2023 Telangana elections, the people gave a clear mandate. They asked the BRS to sit in the opposition and gave it a sizable number of seats. But some MLAs, unwilling to accept this verdict or remain out of power, crossed over through various means. While technically remaining in the BRS, they openly spoke in favour of another party. They also enjoyed benefits and favours from the party they joined.
While the ruling party’s encouragement certainly played a role in this, the greater share of the blame lies in the immorality of the defectors.
Congress did this during YS Rajasekhara Reddy’s time, and the BRS during K Chandrashekar Rao’s regime. The then opposition parties condemned these actions. Opposing the Speaker’s procrastination in deciding on the issue, they went to court. But no decisive outcomes emerged from those efforts, which is regrettable.
Now, the Supreme Court has taken note, not just of the Telangana situation, but of the larger problem of defections and the Speaker’s role in them. It has suggested to Parliament that perhaps an independent tribunal is needed to handle such sensitive matters like disqualification, as the Speaker may not be the appropriate authority to take that delicate decision.
Had this suggestion come during the past two Lok Sabha terms, when the ruling party enjoyed a firm majority, perhaps the court’s recommendations would have been acted upon. But now, that opportunity may be lost. Everyone is aware of the methods the ruling party employed in Karnataka and Maharashtra to gain power.
Today, tension exists between legislatures and the judiciary over the boundaries of their respective areas. Even senior constitutional authorities have publicly expressed discontent over courts interfering with legislative decisions. The Centre also displayed visible irritation over the Supreme Court’s verdicts, including one related to the approval of Tamil Nadu’s Bills.
The Chief Justice recently made an indirect reference to criticism that the judiciary is encroaching into the jurisdiction of other institutions. Meanwhile, hostile propaganda continues even against the landmark Keshavananda Bharati judgment, which protects the Constitution’s basic structure.
The Constitution’s framers purposefully created a system of checks and balances between institutions. While the legislature is the highest elected body in a democracy, its laws and administration must still conform to constitutional principles, a democratic value well-established globally.
Amid growing disillusionment, questions are emerging about judicial independence. Efforts to undermine that independence by targeting judges’ integrity are also underway. Despite these challenges, the judiciary remains the last resort for victims of injustice.
Democratic thinkers believe judicial appointments should not be based on political affiliations, as happens in the US, but rather on a transparent process. Judges chosen through such a system must be resolutely committed to preserving the independence of the judiciary.
When Speakers themselves fail to respect the anti-defection law, there must exist a system to appeal or complain. It is heartening that a fresh initiative is now visible, at least in the context of state legislatures, to address this long-unresolved issue of the Speaker’s discretion.
In Indian politics, two parties or coalitions alternately come to power. Whoever is in power encourages defections from the opposition; once in opposition, they criticise the very same practice. Neither side has moral credibility. But what option do the people have?
If the BRS has no moral right to oppose the defections encouraged by Congress, who will then be a strong, credible voice to challenge such undemocratic practices?
Yes, those parties may lack sincerity. But even if they raise their voices for political reasons or optics, those conflicts still serve the public interest. If one party misuses its power and the other remains silent because of its own past sins, then where is the escape route?
If the Congress is told not to speak about UAPA, because they created it, what hope remains for victims of the law? How these parties defend their double standards or engage in self-deception is their business. But it is essential that at least some voices, sincerely or otherwise, continue to articulate democratic values.
In essence, the entire political establishment is collectively dismantling the legal mechanisms designed to prevent defections. That is the unfortunate truth.
It is quite possible that the Speaker may not honour the courts’ direction, under the impression that they do not have jurisdiction over the Speaker. It may lead to a dispute. The ruling as such cannot be challenged because it was delivered by a bench led by the Chief Justice himself.
Alternatively, the Speaker could rule not in favour of disqualification but against it, forcing a new round of litigation in higher courts.
But if all parties genuinely wish to bring closure to this issue and establish a new democratic tradition, a decision could come in that spirit.
One way to interpret the Supreme Court’s ruling is as a political weapon for one party and a setback for the other. But another way is to see it as a positive development upholding ethics and values in politics, which is both a democratic and a moral right of the people.
(Edited by Dese Gowda)
