In a country where corruption scandals have become as routine as monsoon rains, the Indian government’s move to introduce three groundbreaking bills today marks a long-overdue reckoning for political impunity. These bills—the Government of Union Territories (Amendment) Bill 2025, the Constitution (One Hundred And Thirtieth Amendment) Bill 2025, and the Jammu and Kashmir Reorganisation (Amendment) Bill 2025—aim to strip the Prime Minister, Chief Ministers, and Ministers of their offices if they are arrested and detained for 30 consecutive days on serious criminal charges, such as corruption or violence.
No more hiding behind endless trials or bail loopholes; if you’re in custody that long, you’re out. This isn’t just legislative tinkering—it’s a seismic shift toward real accountability, and every Indian weary of graft-ridden governance should rally behind it. For too long, our political system has shielded the powerful from the consequences of their actions. Under existing laws, an elected leader can only be disqualified upon conviction, a process that often drags on for years thanks to India’s overburdened judiciary. We’ve seen it time and again: ministers embroiled in multi-crore scams clinging to power, issuing orders from behind bars or while out on bail, all while public trust erodes. Remember the fodder scam ghosts or the coal allocation controversies?
These bills cut through that nonsense by mandating resignation or removal after just 30 days in custody. It’s a bold acknowledgment that serious allegations—backed by enough evidence for prolonged detention—disqualify someone from wielding authority over millions. Why should a detained PM continue to influence national policy, or a CM in jail dictate state affairs? This reform restores the moral high ground to public office, ensuring that leadership isn’t a shield for the unscrupulous.
Critics, particularly from the opposition, are already howling that this is a tool for political vendetta, designed to destabilize governments through fabricated arrests. They paint it as an assault on democracy, but let’s dismantle that hypocrisy. First, the bills apply universally—to the PM at the Centre, CMs in states, and ministers in Union Territories—regardless of party affiliation. If anything, it’s a safeguard against abuse of power by any ruling regime.
Second, detention for 30 days isn’t arbitrary; it requires judicial oversight and evidence of grave offenses. Agencies like the CBI or ED don’t lock up leaders on whims—there are checks, balances, and appeals. And if the opposition fears misuse, they should push for stronger anti-corruption mechanisms, not defend the status quo that lets crooks linger in office. This initiative, tabled by Home Minister Amit Shah in the Lok Sabha, comes amid growing public outrage over ethical lapses in governance.
It’s no coincidence that it follows high-profile cases where leaders have evaded accountability, fueling cynicism among voters. By requiring resignation on the 31st day of custody, these bills send a clear message: public service demands integrity, not just electoral victory. Imagine the ripple effects—a cleaner bureaucracy, deterred corruption, and renewed faith in democracy. Sure, it might lead to temporary instability in some cases, but that’s a small price for purging systemic rot.
India stands at a crossroads. We can either embrace these bills as a step toward ethical governance or let vested interests water them down into oblivion. Parliament must pass them swiftly, and citizens should demand nothing less. After all, a nation that tolerates detained leaders at the helm isn’t just flawed—it’s failing its people. This is our chance to fix it.