A Confrontation Between the Institutional Foundations Of Democracy

The Election Commission of India (ECI) filed an affidavit on September 14, 2025, claiming virtually untrammelled discretion over the revision of electoral rolls, and warned that any judicial direction to the contrary would amount to an “encroachment” upon its constitutional domain. At first glance, this may seem like a technical dispute over procedure. But in reality, it represents nothing less than a confrontation between the institutional foundations of Indian democracy. What is at stake is not just the scheduling of voter roll revisions but the survival of very basic of Indian democracy.

In its counter-affidavit, the EC mounted a detailed defence of its powers, drawing limits around judicial intervention in electoral roll management. Central to its submission was that Article 324 confers on it “superintendence, direction and control” over elections and rolls. Supplemented by the Representation of People Act, 1950 and the Registration of Electors Rules, 1960, this framework, it claimed, leaves to the Commission alone the choice of when and how to revise rolls. Whether to adopt summary or intensive revision, it insisted, is a matter of circumstance rather than a fixed calendar. While rolls must be updated before general, assembly or bye-elections, the statutes impose no requirement for periodic nationwide Special Intensive Revisions (SIRs).

A second plank of argument stressed that compelling SIRs at regular intervals would “encroach upon the exclusive jurisdiction” of the Commission. This, it said, was not mere administrative detail but a constitutional principle: statutes like Section 21 of the RPA and Rule 25 of the Registration Rules deliberately empower the EC to choose the revision method. Judicial direction would undermine the independence of the Commission guaranteed by the Constitution.

To demonstrate that it was not inactive, the EC highlighted administrative measures already undertaken. It informed the Court that “pre-revision activities” had commenced via its letter of July 5, 2025, to Chief Electoral Officers (CEOs), fixing January 1, 2026, as the qualifying date. It had also convened a national conference of CEOs to coordinate execution. These steps, it claimed, proved that it was actively safeguarding electoral roll integrity—on its own terms.

The case Association for Democratic Reforms & Ors v. Election Commission of India is one of the most significant challenges to the electoral process in recent times. Petitioners—including ADR, PUCL, and several parties—contested the EC’s June 24, 2025, notification announcing an SIR in Bihar ahead of the assembly elections. They argued that the process risked arbitrary exclusions: voters lacked adequate notice; verification criteria were onerous and inconsistently applied; even commonly held IDs like Aadhaar, ration cards, and EPIC were treated ambiguously; and timelines were impossibly tight for migrants and marginalised groups.

The Supreme Court issued interim directions. On July 10, 2025, it asked the EC to accept Aadhaar, EPIC, and ration cards as valid documents. On August 14, it directed that Aadhaar must be mandatorily accepted from “non-included” voters seeking to restore their names, and ordered the EC to publish district-wise lists of 65 lakh deleted voters with reasons. These interventions underscored the seriousness of irregularities and the Court’s insistence on fairness and transparency.

The affidavit at issue, however, arose from a connected but separate Public Interest Litigation (PIL) by advocate Ashwini Kumar Upadhyay, who sought directions to mandate nationwide SIRs before every election. The EC countered that Article 324 and the RPA left such decisions solely to it, and that judicial intervention amounted to encroachment. The claim is analogous to a policeman arguing that whether to register a First Information Report (FIR) is solely his discretion, beyond court supervision. If accepted, such logic could be extended by any government body, high or low, to evade judicial accountability.

The affidavit marks a striking departure from constitutional jurisprudence. If Chief Election Commissioner (CEC) Gyanesh Kumar had not already revealed himself through his conduct since his appointment, its brazenness would not have shocked as deeply. Installed under the new law enacted by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) government to sideline the apex Court’s directions on EC appointments, Kumar has repeatedly displayed hostility to the Opposition, and partisan irrationalities—more like a ruling party spokesperson than a constitutional umpire.

On legal grounds, the affidavit fares no better. Supreme Court precedent is clear that the Commission’s plenary powers are not immune from judicial scrutiny. In Mohinder Singh Gill v. CEC (1978), the Court held that Article 324 powers must conform to constitutional principles and remain subject to review under Articles 32 and 226. This was reaffirmed in A.C. Jose v. Sivan Pillai (1984) and T.N. Seshan v. Union of India (1995), which made clear that independence does not mean unaccountability. By asserting otherwise, the affidavit unsettles the principle of constitutionalism wherein every organ remains subject to judicial oversight—the judiciary being the ultimate guardian of the Constitution

In Anoop Baranwal v. Union of India (2023), the Court attempted to insulate EC appointments from executive dominance by including the Chief Justice of India in the selection panel. The government swiftly overturned this by law, restoring control to the executive. Kumar was appointed under this controversial scheme, raising doubts about independence. Meanwhile, the Bihar SIR has drawn criticism for massive deletions and opaque procedures, raising fears of disenfranchisement of the potential anti-BJP voters. Against this backdrop, the affidavit reads less like a technical jurisdictional claim and more like an attempt to shield the EC from judicial scrutiny.

Such a stance erodes credibility at a moment when the Commission’s neutrality is already under question. Its legitimacy rests not only on constitutional guarantees of autonomy but also on public confidence. By resisting the Court’s supervisory role, the EC appears to align itself with executive efforts to curb judicial oversight, thereby undermining its own stature as impartial guardian of democracy. If allowed, its claim to unreviewable authority could corrode faith in the electoral process itself—striking at the heart of constitutional democracy.

The Commission’s claim of insulation appears even more aberrant when examined through a global lens. In every mature democracy, electoral bodies enjoy operational autonomy but remain subject to judicial scrutiny. Autonomy and accountability are treated as complementary, not contradictory.

In the United States, elections are decentralised and conducted by state authorities. Yet courts play a vital role in supervising electoral integrity. The most dramatic instance was Bush v. Gore (2000), where the Supreme Court intervened directly in Florida’s recount. No court in the U.S. has ever treated an electoral body’s discretion as beyond review. Judicial oversight is regarded as indispensable to protect the citizen’s right to vote.

The United Kingdom, despite lacking a written constitution, offers a similar balance. The Electoral Commission is created by statute, reports to Parliament, and operates under continuous judicially enforceable norms. When disputes arise over electoral procedures, British courts adjudicate without hesitation. Independence is not understood as a license to escape scrutiny, but as one component of a broader accountability framework.

South Africa provides perhaps the most instructive comparison. Scarred by apartheid’s exclusionary politics, its Constitution enshrines the Independent Electoral Commission. But here too, the Constitutional Court maintains firm jurisdiction. In disputes over voter registration and ballot access, the Court has consistently asserted that independence cannot mean unaccountability. Oversight by the judiciary is seen as essential to preserving legitimacy in a society marked by deep divisions.

Against this backdrop, India’s EC is attempting something unprecedented: to shield its decisions on electoral rolls from judicial examination altogether. This posture does not strengthen independence; it corrodes it. By cutting itself off from the only institution that can check executive capture, the Commission isolates itself from the very constitutional safeguards that ensure its credibility.

For a vast, conflict-ridden democracy like India, the dangers are obvious. If citizens cannot appeal to the courts when the integrity of voter rolls is compromised, elections risk becoming a managed exercise rather than a genuine democratic contest. The global record makes clear that judicial oversight is not a threat to independence but its necessary complement. India can ill afford to pretend otherwise.

The EC is a constitutional sentinel of India’s democracy, charged with ensuring free and fair elections. Its legitimacy derives from neutrality, transparency, and accountability. Under Kumar, however, the Commission has attracted allegations of constitutional violations that undermine its very foundation.

Most egregious of course is the challenge to the Supreme Court’s authority. This violates the doctrine of separation of powers and positions the Commission above scrutiny—an untenable claim in a constitutional democracy.

Equally troubling is the erosion of neutrality under Article 324. Kumar faces accusations of collusion with the ruling BJP during the 2024 elections and of ignoring or abetting electoral malpractice. Even the perception of partisanship gravely damages the institution’s credibility.

Transparency has also suffered. The Bihar SIR was conducted in secrecy, with mass deletions unexplained. The EC argued it was not mandated to disclose reasons or publish names. In a democracy where the electorate is sovereign, such opacity is indefensible. It robs citizens of recourse, fosters suspicion, and contradicts constitutional values of accountability.

The Commission’s operational methods reveal abuse of authority and violation of due process. It issued ultimatums to the Leader of Opposition demanding affidavits and apologies, weaponising its office to intimidate critics. It rejected the Court’s suggestion to accept Aadhaar or ration cards—ubiquitous IDs—while imposing arbitrary requirements that obstructed genuine voters. Such barriers risk wrongful disenfranchisement and infringe the right to life and liberty under Article 21.

Cumulatively, these actions represent a breach of constitutional oath and democratic principle. Dismissing opposition complaints as “politically motivated,” failing to investigate “vote theft” allegations, and cultivating a belligerent “How dare you?” posture have deepened public mistrust. This conduct violates the oath to preserve and defend the Constitution, constitutes executive overreach, and corrodes institutional credibility.

Kumar has thrown the EC into an unprecedented constitutional crisis. By claiming immunity from judicial scrutiny and indulging in conduct that breaches Articles 14, 19, 21, and 324, the Commission under him has ceased to function as the impartial guardian of elections. It now looks less like a constitutional umpire and more like an appendage of the executive.

This is not a technical dispute over voter rolls. It is a fundamental attack on the checks and balances that sustain India’s democracy. If the EC can place itself beyond the reach of judicial review, then nothing prevents other state institutions from doing the same. Such logic dismantles constitutional accountability and paves the way for authoritarian rule.

The survival of electoral democracy depends not just on constitutional text but on the credibility of institutions. By aligning itself with the ruling party’s political agenda and treating the Supreme Court as an intruder, the Commission has undermined the very process it is meant to protect. Unless urgently corrected, this trajectory will reduce elections—the cornerstone of India’s republic—into a managed ritual serving those in power rather than a genuine expression of the people’s will.

(Views expressed are personal)