THE EROSION OF INDIA'S ELECTION MACHINERY: WHY DOUBTS OVER GYANESH KUMAR'S ECI REFUSE TO DIE
I am starting this Special Series with this first episode to provide a global-standard analysis of the 2026 Assembly Elections, formatted as a deep-dive editorial opinion in the tradition of truth based hardcore journalism. Each episode deconstructs the mechanics of power, the erosion of political discourse, and the systemic failures that have come to define this electoral cycle.
By Onkareshwar Pandey
New Delhi, May 03, 2026
Tomorrow, when the results for five states are announced, one institution will be watched as closely as the winners and losers: the Election Commission of India. And for all the wrong reasons.
This is not a rhetorical flourish.
It is a documented, verifiable, and deeply troubling reality. The ECI under Chief Election Commissioner Gyanesh Kumar enters tomorrow's count with its credibility battered—not merely by political opponents, but by its own actions, judicial scrutiny, and a growing mountain of unanswered questions from civil society.
Let me put it plainly:
Whether Mamata Banerjee wins big or Himanta Biswa Sarma sweeps Assam, the doubts about the sanctity of this Election Commission will not disappear. Because the problem is not the results—the problem is the process.
No analysis—no exit poll, no seat projection, no punditry—can hold any value if there remains even an iota of doubt over the integrity of the election process itself. Throughout the entire duration of this election cycle, the Commission remained not commissioned. It failed to commission itself to perform its primary duty: enforcing the Model Code of Conduct with even-handed severity. Why was the politically charged implementation of the Women's Reservation Bill—a matter of monumental constitutional significance—allowed to become a campaign weapon without a single show-cause notice? Why were serial violations by ruling-party leaders met with either casual indifference or glaringly delayed action?
DEMOCRACY vs. HYPOCRISY
The title of my article "Democracy vs. Hypocrisy" is not rhetorical excess; it is a clinical diagnosis of the current electoral moment.
Democracy, in its purest form, demands three non-negotiable pillars: a neutral election machinery, equal application of rules, and a political discourse rooted in policy and ideology. The Election Commission of India, as the apex constitutional body, was designed to be the guarantor of this neutrality.
Hypocrisy, by contrast, is the performance of virtue without its substance. It is the act of claiming fidelity to democratic norms while systematically hollowing them out.
The evidence for hypocrisy in the 2026 cycle is overwhelming and multifaceted:
First, the appointment process itself—which installed Gyanesh Kumar as CEC—is a monument to institutional hypocrisy. Parliament, in December 2023, replaced the Chief Justice of India with a Union Cabinet Minister on the selection committee, ensuring that two of three members now represent the ruling executive. The government defended this by arguing that "the independence of the Election Commission does not arise from and is not attributable to the presence of a judicial member" [1]—a statement that would be laughable if it were not so dangerous. A selection committee dominated by the ruling party claiming to produce independent election commissioners is hypocrisy institutionalized.
Second, the enforcement of the Model Code of Conduct has been marked by what the Opposition, in its formal notice for Kumar's removal, terms "continued partisan asymmetry" [2]. This is hypocrisy in action: rules exist, but they apply differently depending on which party benefits. When the ruling party's leaders violate the MCC, the Commission looks away or deliberates at a glacial pace. When Opposition leaders speak, notices are issued within hours, demanding responses within twenty-four hours.
Third, the hypocrisy extends to political rhetoric itself. Leaders who champion vegetarianism as a marker of cultural purity in the Hindi heartland are seen publicly relishing fish and meat in Bengal to woo local palates. Core values become seasonal costumes, discarded at state borders. This is not political strategy; it is hypocrisy as a governing philosophy.
Thus, "Democracy vs. Hypocrisy" captures precisely the contradiction at the heart of this election: a democratic framework of rules and institutions being undermined by the very actors who claim to defend them, facilitated by a constitutional body that has abandoned its duty to enforce equal standards.
THE LAW THAT BROKE THE CONSENSUS
How the CJI Was Removed from the Selection Committee
To understand the current crisis, you have to go back to March 2, 2023. A five-judge Constitution Bench of the Supreme Court led by Justice K.M. Joseph delivered a landmark judgment in Anoop Baranwal v. Union of India.
The Court held that the existing system—where the Prime Minister alone effectively appointed Election Commissioners—was unconstitutional. It violated the right to free and fair elections. As a temporary measure, until Parliament made a law, the Court directed that a Selection Committee comprising the Prime Minister, the Leader of the Opposition, and the Chief Justice of India would appoint ECs.
This was hailed as a victory for democracy. The CJI was seen as the neutral guardian of the Constitution.
But Parliament moved fast.
On December 12, 2023, the Rajya Sabha passed the Chief Election Commissioner and Other Election Commissioners (Appointment, Conditions of Service and Term of Office) Act, 2023. The Lok Sabha passed it on December 21. The President gave assent on December 29, 2023.
What did this new law do? It replaced the Chief Justice of India with a Union Cabinet Minister nominated by the Prime Minister.
The Selection Committee now comprises:
- The Prime Minister (Chairperson)
- The Leader of the Opposition in Lok Sabha
- A Union Cabinet Minister nominated by the PM
In plain language: Two of the three members are from the ruling government. The third is the Leader of Opposition—someone from the losing side. There is no neutral, judicial presence.
The government defended this. In an affidavit filed in the Supreme Court on March 20, 2024, the Centre argued: "The independence of the Election Commission does not arise from and is not attributable to the presence of a judicial member in the selection committee" [1]. It called the inclusion of the CJI a "stop-gap arrangement" meant only until Parliament made a law.
The Objections That Were Ignored
The law was challenged immediately. Dr. Jaya Thakur filed a petition on January 2, 2024. The Association for Democratic Reforms (ADR) followed. Their argument: the Act nullifies the Supreme Court's Constitution Bench judgment.
Senior advocates Kapil Sibal and Prashant Bhushan argued that the selection committee must be insulated from political and executive interference. Without the CJI, they said, the process is "ex facie unconstitutional" [3].
But on March 20, 2024, the Supreme Court—while refusing to stay the law—observed that the Constitution Bench judgment did not specify WHO should be on the committee, only that Parliament should make a law. The petitions remain pending. The law stands. And Gyanesh Kumar was appointed under this law.
This is why, for this election—and until we restore a free and fair election machinery—no analysis, no exit poll, and no result, even if it favours Opposition parties, will be above suspicion.
WHAT THE MODEL CODE OF CONDUCT ACTUALLY SAYS
The Model Code of Conduct (MCC) is not a mere suggestion—it is a binding set of norms, evolved with the consensus of all political parties, that comes into force the moment the Election Commission announces an election schedule and remains operational until the process is completed [2]. Under Article 324 of the Constitution, which vests the "superintendence, direction and control of elections" in the Election Commission, the MCC carries the full weight of constitutional authority [2]. Its violation is not a technicality; it is an assault on the very idea of free and fair elections.
Section I(2) of the MCC explicitly mandates: "Criticism of other political parties, when made, shall be confined to their policies and programme, past record and work. Parties and Candidates shall refrain from criticism of all aspects of private life, not connected with the public activities of the leaders or workers of other parties. Criticism of other parties or their workers based on unverified allegations or distortion shall be avoided" [1]. Section I(3) commands: "There shall be no appeal to caste or communal feelings for securing votes. Mosques, Churches, Temples or other places of worship shall not be used as forum for election propaganda" [1]. Section VII(1)(a) , under "Party in Power," explicitly prohibits Ministers from combining official visits with electioneering work or making "use of official machinery or personnel during the electioneering work" [1].
Section VII(4) further declares: "Issue of advertisement at the cost of public exchequer in the newspapers and other media and the misuse of official mass media during the election period for partisan coverage of political news and publicity regarding achievements with a view to furthering the prospects of the party in power shall be scrupulously avoided" [1].
Section VII(6) bars Ministers and authorities from announcing "any financial grants in any form or promises thereof" from the time elections are announced [1].
And Section VII(2) demands that "Public places such as maidens etc., for holding election meetings, and use of helipads for air-flights in connection with elections shall not be monopolized by" the party in power [1]. Every violation documented in this series—from the Prime Minister's televised address attacking Opposition parties to the alleged distribution of benefit cards, from the communal rhetoric to the monopolisation of public spaces—falls squarely within these prohibitions. The Commission's silence, therefore, is not a matter of discretion. It is a dereliction of constitutional duty.