Rahul Gandhi’s “Constitutional Conversations” or Constitutional Provocations?

At the centre of his complaint lay the old allegation of political interference in the appointment of the Chief Election Commissioner and Election Commissioners. For over a year, the Congress and its allies have invoked the Supreme Court’s 2023 judgment in Anoop Baranwal v. Union of India to claim that the government has subverted the independence of the Election Commission. The legal basis of that argument, however, collapses on closer reading.

In Anoop Baranwal, the Supreme Court crafted a temporary mechanism for appointments, a selection panel comprising the Prime Minister, Leader of Opposition, and the Chief Justice of India, to operate only until Parliament enacted a law on the subject. The Court’s directions were clearly framed as an interim measure, a stopgap to fill a legislative vacuum. When Parliament subsequently passed the Election Commissioners (Appointment, Conditions of Service and Term of Office) Act, 2023, it fulfilled exactly what the judgment had anticipated. The Court’s interim prescription thus lapsed by design. It was a restoration of legislative competence, not a retreat from judicial oversight. In fact, the top court had refused to stay the law itself, when it was challenged before Supreme Court by Congress allies, where the court reiterated the same position.

Firstly, this invocation betrays either a lack of understanding of the judgment or a deliberate choice to misrepresent its scope. Once a statute occupies the field, the judiciary’s interim arrangements automatically give way. That is the logic of constitutional continuity. To ignore this is to distort not just legal interpretation but the rule of law itself.

Secondly, Gandhi’s press event carried all the hallmarks of political stagecraft. The language was deliberately casual, his tone conversational, and his references to “Gen Z” and “youth disillusionment” were carefully scripted to resonate with digital audiences. The use of humour, pauses, and animated expressions gave the appearance of authenticity, but the message was designed less to inform than to inflame. It was emotional engineering, not democratic dialogue and a bid to turn the language of constitutional accountability into the vocabulary of street politics.

We all know Rahul Gandhi is not powerful enough, nor does he hold the kind of persuasive influence that can genuinely sway an entire generation. But that is precisely why the subtlety of his theatrics matters. The intent may not be to ignite a mass movement overnight, yet it chips away at public faith in process. As reasonable citizens, we can see through the motive, the aim of which is not reform but resonance, not participation but provocation.

What stands out, however, is that these repeated “constitutional discourses” are never followed by substance. For all his dramatic appeals to evidence of institutional compromise, Rahul Gandhi has never produced a single document before the Supreme Court or lodged a complaint through the process dictated in law. Time and again, he speaks of proof but never submits it in a forum that demands accountability under oath. Yesterday, when a journalist directly asked whether he would approach the apex court with this so-called evidence, he dodged the question. Instead of committing to due process, he pivoted to insinuation, where he cornered the Supreme Court itself by suggesting complicity through inaction. The tactic is to avoid the rigour of proof, yet reap the optics of outrage.

These undertones are important for reflection because Rahuli’s subtly drawn allusions point to popular agitation and generational awakening, adding a dangerous layer to political discourses. Nepal’s experience in recent years has shown how political mobilisation against institutions can slip into chronic instability. To flirt with that analogy in subtle ways in India’s context, is to plant a seed of civil discord under the guise of constitutional discourse.

India’s democracy is built on a culture of gradual correction and not instant outrage. Institutions here have evolved through accountability mechanisms that are legal, not emotional. When politicians bypass these structures and turn constitutional arguments into campaign tools, they do not strengthen democracy, but they destabilise it. Gandhi’s narrative positions distrust as a form of resistance and institutional scepticism as political virtue. Yet, in a constitutional democracy, faith in process is as vital as the right to question it.

The irony is that Rahul Gandhi’s appeal to constitutionalism ultimately undermines it. By casting suspicion on every arm of the State, the Parliament, the Election Commission and even the Supreme Court, Rahul invites not accountability but outrage. The recurring invocation of Anoop Baranwal by his supporters and legal teams, is emblematic of this shift, where legal nuance is sacrificed for rhetorical gain, because the judgment, far from being an indictment of the government, was a model of judicial restraint; its spirit was legislative deference, not judicial supremacy.

The danger in Gandhi’s style of politics lies not in what he says but in what it normalises, that outrage is the new form of reasoning, and that agitation can replace adjudication.

India has been at the centre of theatrical constitutionalism by an opposition which should instead be focusing on a revival of faith in the quiet work of its institutions. To question is democratic; to delegitimise is destructive. The difference is subtle but decisive. Rahul Gandhi’s latest address blurred that line once again, turning what could have been a reasoned debate on democratic health into yet another rehearsal for civil unrest.