TheElection Commission of India (ECI) is correcting course after controversies over its Special Intensive Revision (SIR) of electoral rolls. But can U-turns restore its credibility? And why were they necessary?
Names have vanished from draft rolls, living citizens have reportedly been marked dead, and eligible voters have been asked to enrol afresh. Who is accountable for the failures that made these corrections necessary?
A public hearing in Delhi’s Jamia Nagar, reported by The Indian Express, heard accounts of long-time voters marked as permanently shifted and a living man recorded as dead. How were these entries made, and what verification preceded the deletions?
More than 13 crore names have been removed from draft electoral rolls across the SIR exercise, according to media reports. The ECI must publish state-wise figures for deletions, restorations, rejected claims and unresolved cases. How many eligible voters were wrongly deleted, and how many remain excluded?
The scale of the exercise makes transparent accounting indispensable. A deletion cannot be treated as a mere statistical entry when it concerns a citizen’s constitutional right to vote. Nor can the Commission expect citizens, particularly the elderly, the poor and those with limited access to official records, to bear the entire burden of correcting mistakes they did not make. Every disputed deletion must be traceable, every claim must receive a reasoned response, and every eligible voter must have an effective opportunity to be heard.
The Form 6 controversy adds to the confusion. Intended for new electors, the form has also been used by previously registered voters seeking restoration. Maharashtra’s Chief Electoral Officer has sought changes to avoid forcing such voters into declarations that misrepresent their earlier registration. Citizens should not have to navigate bureaucratic gymnastics to reclaim their voting rights.
The process must serve the voter, not make the voter serve the process. If a citizen already on the rolls is wrongly excluded, restoration should not become a fresh test of endurance involving paperwork, repeated visits and uncertainty. The ECI must explain why its procedures created this predicament and what safeguards will prevent a recurrence in the final rolls.
As discussed in an earlier column, questions over the ECI’s functioning have also surfaced from within. The Indian Express reported that Election Commissioners Sukhbir Singh Sandhu and Vivek Joshi had recorded objections on at least 14 occasions over ten months to decisions concerning SIR and related procedures. This is a fact worth remembering—and one the ECI must not be allowed to forget.
Such reported objections deserve serious scrutiny.
They raise questions not only about particular decisions but also about how disagreements within a constitutional institution are addressed. Were the objections examined on merit? Were reasons recorded for decisions taken despite them? The Commission should place the relevant information in the public domain, subject to legitimate confidentiality requirements. Institutional independence cannot mean freedom from questions; it must also mean the courage to answer them.
The Commission’s constitutional authority is not in dispute. But authority does not make errors immune from scrutiny. The ECI must order an independent audit of deletions, particularly voters marked dead, identify those responsible for lapses and disclose the corrective action taken. The audit must examine the verification process, the reliability of the data used and the safeguards against arbitrary deletion. Simply announcing corrections will not establish whether the underlying system is sound.
And now, perhaps, it is time to appeal to the heavens: TN Seshan, wherever you are, please come back! Indian democracy could do with some of that old-fashioned Election Commission resolve.
The former Chief Election Commissioner made it clear that the Commission was no rubber stamp for the political establishment. His legacy was the assertion that constitutional authority must translate into public confidence. Seshan cannot be summoned back, but his example remains a reminder that independence must be visible in action—not merely asserted in official statements.
A correction is welcome. Repeated corrections demand an explanation. Restoring wrongfully deleted names cannot erase the failure that led to their deletion. No amount of political defence of Chief Election Commissioner Gyanesh Kumar can whitewash the vote chori charge. The ECI must answer the questions surrounding its functioning with evidence and transparency.
Course correction must begin at the top. The selection of Election Commissioners must be transparent, with a panel comprising only the Chief Justice of India, the Leader of the Opposition and the Prime Minister. This would be a reform of the present statutory selection arrangement, intended to strengthen public confidence that appointments to this crucial constitutional body are insulated from the appearance of partisan influence.
Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s government appointed Gyanesh Kumar and the other Election Commissioners through the statutory selection process. He cannot wash his hands of the institution’s functioning. Gyanesh Kumar and his team must go. The Prime Minister must ask them to resign and make way for leadership capable of restoring public confidence. The ECI must account for wrongful deletions, identify the officials and decision-makers responsible, and ensure that established negligence or deliberate misconduct attracts action under the law. Procedural reversals cannot substitute for accountability. The issue is bigger than one revision exercise or one set of electoral rolls: it concerns the credibility of the institution entrusted with protecting the voter’s mandate. The ultimate test is simple: can every eligible Indian trust that their name will remain on the electoral roll—and that when an error occurs, those responsible will be identified and heldaccountable?
(The columnist is a Mumbai-based author and independent media veteran, running websites and a youtube channel known for his thought-provoking messaging)
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Tenyears ago, a bridge collapse became “God’s message” against a political rival. Today, amid the Chorbagan tragedy, the question is whether our political leaders have learnt that the dead deserve dignity, not electoral point-scoring.
On April 7, 2016, Narendra Modi, then campaigning in West Bengal, invoked the collapse of Kolkata’s Vivekananda Road flyover, which had killed at least 26 people. “God has sent a message to the people,” he declared, turning the tragedy into afierce attack on the Trinamool Congress government led by Mamata Banerjee.
A decade later, 19 people are dead after the Chorbagan Durga Puja pandal stampede. The official response raises several questions about political sensitivity and administrative preparedness.
The dhol-nagara welcome and women’s dance performances for Union Home Minister Amit Shah, even as families mourned their dead, were difficult to reconcile with the gravity of the occasion. The question is not whether cultural performances are inappropriate in themselves, but whether this was the moment for celebration.
Then came the blame game. Chief Minister Suvendu Adhikari pointed to alleged lapses inherited from the previous government. But where was the much-proclaimed organisational efficiency of the BJP’s “double-engine” government when it mattered most? Videos reportedly showed crowds breaching barricades and confronting police at the same pandal a day before the tragedy. Why did that warning not trigger effective crowd-control measures?
The preliminary findings are damning: narrow approach lanes, a single exit, inadequate crowd management, rain and confusing announcements. The investigation must establish responsibility. But the question remains: why were foreseeable risks not addressed before 19 lives were lost?
There was another striking image after the tragedy: RSS doing “crowd management” outside the Kolkata morgue. Their so-called humanitarian service also sharpens the question: where was comparable mobilisation and preparedness at the pandal, before the crowd surged and lives were lost?
More bizarre was a BJP leader’s comparison with the United States’ inability to protect its President and India’s loss of two Prime Ministers. No system can prevent every tragedy, but that cannot become an excuse for failures of planning and prevention.
Blaming predecessors has become an easy political escape route. Governments are elected to govern, not merely to explain why somebody else is responsible. A “double-engine” slogan means little if the machinery fails to protect ordinary citizens.
Ten years after the “message from God” remark, the lesson remains unlearnt. Tragedy demands compassion, competent administration and accountability—not political theatre, comparisons or convenient scapegoats.
The dead cannot answer back. The living deserve answers.