Mohan Joshi

Why India Should Not Abolish the Anti-Defection Law

Every few years, a debate resurfaces in India: Should the Anti-Defection Law be abolished?

The argument usually goes something like this: "Many mature democracies such as the United States and countries in Europe do not have such a law. Why should India have one?"

At first glance, the argument sounds logical. After all, if some of the world's oldest democracies can survive without it, why can't India?

But before we rush to abolish the law, let us imagine for a moment what Indian politics might look like without it.

Imagine a cricket match where players are free to switch teams every over.

Virat Kohli bats for one side in the first over, joins the opposition in the second, becomes umpire in the third, and by tea break announces the formation of a new team consisting of players from both sides!

Sounds funny?

That is precisely what could happen in politics.

In many Western democracies, elected representatives may occasionally vote against their party, but wholesale migration of legislators is relatively uncommon. Political ideology, party discipline, and public accountability often act as natural restraints.

India, however, has a unique political culture.

Our politicians are among the most talented people on earth. Some possess such extraordinary flexibility that a person can passionately criticize a party in the morning, join it in the afternoon, and praise it as the savior of the nation by evening.

The transformation can be so rapid that even chameleons may struggle to keep up.

Without the Anti-Defection Law, state governments could become revolving doors.

A government formed on Monday might lose its majority on Wednesday.

The opposition could become the ruling party on Friday.

By Sunday, nobody would remember who was governing whom.

Television channels would need special election scoreboards similar to stock market tickers:

"Breaking News: Three legislators have moved from Party A to Party B."

"Update: Two have returned."

"Correction: One has joined Party C."

Citizens would need daily political weather forecasts.

"Today's forecast: Heavy chances of defections in the afternoon with scattered resignations by evening."

Of course, there is a serious side to all this.

When citizens vote, they are not merely voting for an individual candidate. In many cases, they are voting for a party, its manifesto, and its promises.

If elected representatives freely switch sides after winning elections, the mandate of the voters can become distorted.

The Anti-Defection Law was introduced to provide stability, reduce political horse-trading, and protect the will of the electorate.

Is the law perfect?

Certainly not.

Many scholars argue that it sometimes suppresses independent thinking and turns legislators into mere followers of party leadership.

These concerns deserve discussion and reform.

But reforming a law is different from abolishing it altogether.

Removing the Anti-Defection Law in India today may be like removing traffic signals because some countries have wider roads and more disciplined drivers.

The problem is not the signal.

The problem is whether traffic can function smoothly without it.

Perhaps one day India may reach a stage where political ideology, ethics, and public accountability are so deeply rooted that defections become rare.

On that day, the Anti-Defection Law may naturally become unnecessary.

Until then, it may continue to serve as a necessary seatbelt for Indian democracy.

After all, nobody enjoys wearing a seatbelt.

But when the political vehicle is moving at high speed on a crowded road, it is often wiser to keep it fastened.