Dr. B.R. Ambedkar’s Apprehension of the “Tyranny of the Majority” in Free India: An Assessment

Dr. B.R. Ambedkar’s Apprehension of the “Tyranny of the Majority” in Free India: An Assessment

SR Darapuri, National President, All India Peoples Front

B. R. Ambedkar stands among the foremost architects of modern India—not merely as the Chairman of the Drafting Committee of the Constitution, but as its most penetrating critic and moral sentinel. Among his most enduring warnings was the fear that political democracy in India might degenerate into a “tyranny of the majority.” His apprehension was neither rhetorical nor abstract; it was rooted in his sociological understanding of caste, religion, and power in Indian society. More than seven decades after independence, it is pertinent to assess how far this warning has come true.

The Theoretical Basis of Ambedkar’s Concern

Ambedkar’s anxiety about majority tyranny must be understood in light of his distinction between political democracy and social democracy. Political democracy, in its minimal form, implies universal adult franchise, periodic elections, and representative institutions. Social democracy, however, demands liberty, equality, and fraternity as living principles of social organization. Ambedkar repeatedly argued that India had achieved political democracy in 1950, but remained far from realizing social democracy due to entrenched caste hierarchies and communal divisions.

In his Constituent Assembly speeches and writings such as Annihilation of Caste and States and Minorities, Ambedkar cautioned that in a society structured by caste and religious majorities, democracy could easily become a mechanism through which the socially dominant convert numerical strength into political hegemony. The majority in India, he noted, is not merely a political aggregation but a communal and caste-based entity. If unchecked by constitutional morality and institutional safeguards, it could marginalize minorities while retaining the façade of electoral legitimacy.

Constitutional Safeguards as Preventive Mechanisms

Ambedkar’s solution was institutional. He insisted on fundamental rights enforceable by courts, minority cultural and educational protections, affirmative action for Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes, federalism, and an independent judiciary. These were not concessions but structural correctives to prevent majoritarian domination.

For several decades after independence, the Indian Republic functioned within this constitutional framework with relative stability. Secularism, though imperfect, remained a guiding principle; coalition politics and federal arrangements limited central dominance; and the judiciary periodically asserted its autonomy. These features suggested that Ambedkar’s fears had been institutionally mitigated, at least in part.

The Rise of Religious Majoritarianism

However, the late twentieth century marked a significant transformation. The political mobilization around the Ram Janmabhoomi movement and the demolition of the Babri Masjid in 1992 signalled a decisive moment in the consolidation of Hindu majoritarian politics. Since then, electoral victories grounded in majoritarian narratives have reshaped political discourse.

Legislative and policy developments in recent years—such as debates surrounding citizenship laws, anti-conversion statutes in several states, and the growing rhetorical emphasis on cultural nationalism—have intensified concerns among scholars and activists about the shrinking space for religious minorities. While India continues to hold regular elections and retains formal democratic structures, critics argue that majoritarian sentiment increasingly influences state policy and public discourse.

Persistence of Caste Inequality

Ambedkar’s warning was not confined to religious majoritarianism; it was fundamentally about caste. Despite constitutional provisions for reservations and anti-discrimination laws, caste-based inequality persists in economic, social, and cultural forms. Atrocities against Dalits continue, and representation in elite institutions remains skewed.

Political democracy has enabled Dalits to gain electoral representation, yet social discrimination and structural inequality endure. This gap between formal political rights and substantive social equality reflects Ambedkar’s fear that democracy could operate atop an undemocratic social order. In this respect, his apprehension appears strikingly prescient.

Institutional Strains and Centralization of Power

Another dimension of majority tyranny lies in the weakening of institutional checks and balances. Ambedkar emphasized constitutional morality—the commitment of both rulers and citizens to abide by the spirit, not merely the letter, of the Constitution. Contemporary debates concerning the centralization of executive power, reduced parliamentary deliberation, pressures on independent institutions, and constraints on press freedom have led some observers to speak of democratic backsliding.

Yet it is equally important to note that India’s judiciary continues to function, elections remain competitive, and opposition parties govern in several states. Civil society organizations, student movements, and regional political formations provide countervailing forces. India has not collapsed into authoritarianism; rather, it exhibits tensions characteristic of many contemporary democracies experiencing populist surges.

Comparative and Contextual Considerations

Majoritarian tendencies are not unique to India. Across the globe, democracies have witnessed the rise of populist nationalism and cultural homogenization. In this comparative perspective, India’s trajectory reflects broader global patterns rather than an isolated deviation. Nevertheless, given India’s deep social stratification and communal diversity, the risks Ambedkar identified possess distinctive intensity.

Has the Prophecy Been Fulfilled?

The answer must be nuanced. If “tyranny of the majority” implies the complete exclusion of minorities from political participation or the abolition of democratic institutions, then India has not reached that stage. Elections continue, constitutional courts function, and minority representatives participate in governance.

However, if the term denotes the increasing normalization of majority cultural dominance, the marginalization of minority anxieties in public discourse, and the persistence of caste hierarchy under democratic forms, then elements of Ambedkar’s apprehension have undeniably materialized. His central warning—that democracy without fraternity and social equality is fragile—appears profoundly relevant.

Conclusion

Ambedkar’s fear was not a prediction of inevitable doom but a moral caution. He believed that the Constitution could endure only if citizens cultivated constitutional morality and rejected the impulses of social domination. Seventy-five years after independence, India remains a functioning democracy, yet marked by deep inequalities and intensifying majoritarian currents.

Thus, Ambedkar’s apprehension has neither been wholly disproved nor fully realized. It persists as a living challenge to the Republic: whether India will deepen liberty, equality, and fraternity, or allow numerical strength to overshadow constitutional justice. The future of Indian democracy will ultimately determine the extent to which Ambedkar’s warning becomes prophecy.

 

Concerns about Decline of Democracy in India

 

Concerns about Decline of Democracy in India

SR Darapuri, National President, All India Peoples Front

Debates about the health of democracy in India have intensified in recent years. Concerns regarding a possible decline in healthy democratic traditions are neither marginal nor purely partisan; they are rooted in empirical research, comparative democratic indices, and sustained academic discussion. At the same time, the claim that Indian democracy is in terminal decline remains contested. A careful assessment requires distinguishing between electoral democracy, liberal constitutionalism, and the broader democratic culture that sustains institutions over time.

India has long been celebrated as the world’s largest democracy, a distinction grounded in its universal adult franchise, regular elections, peaceful transfers of power, and constitutional commitment to rights. Since independence in 1947, democratic continuity has been one of the Republic’s most remarkable achievements. However, contemporary scholars and monitoring organisations such as the Varieties of Democracy Institute (V-Dem) and the Economist Intelligence Unit have documented measurable declines in certain indicators of democratic quality. These include reductions in civil liberties, constraints on executive power, and deliberative components of democracy. V-Dem has at times classified India as an “electoral autocracy,” while the Economist Intelligence Unit has described it as a “flawed democracy.” Such classifications do not imply the absence of elections but suggest erosion in liberal-democratic safeguards.

A central concern raised by critics is the weakening of institutional autonomy. Healthy democratic traditions depend not only on periodic elections but also on independent institutions—judiciaries, election commissions, regulatory bodies, and investigative agencies—that function without undue executive interference. Scholars argue that when these institutions appear less independent or are perceived to align closely with ruling authorities, horizontal accountability diminishes. Over time, this may lead to a concentration of power in the executive branch, thereby narrowing the space for dissent and robust opposition.

Another area of concern relates to civil liberties and public discourse. Freedom of expression, academic freedom, and media independence are integral to democratic vitality. Critics contend that increasing pressures on journalists, civil society organisations, and universities may contribute to a climate of self-censorship. International watchdogs have pointed to legal and administrative measures that allegedly constrain non-governmental organisations and activists. Whether these developments amount to systemic repression or represent episodic tensions within a large and diverse polity remains debated, but the perception of shrinking civic space has become a recurring theme in scholarly analyses.

At the same time, it is important to recognise enduring democratic strengths. India continues to conduct large-scale, competitive elections with high voter participation. Opposition parties regularly win state-level elections, and electoral outcomes remain uncertain and contested. The peaceful transfer of power at both national and state levels remains intact. The judiciary continues to deliver judgments that occasionally challenge executive actions. Federalism provides multiple centres of political authority, ensuring that political power is not monopolised by a single actor across the entire country. These features suggest that democratic mechanisms remain functional, even if under strain.

The debate, therefore, is not about whether India remains a democracy in a formal sense, but about the quality and depth of that democracy. Some scholars argue that what is occurring is less a collapse and more a transformation—an evolution toward majoritarian or centralised governance within an electoral framework. Others maintain that India’s democratic resilience, shaped by its plural society and federal structure, will prevent any lasting authoritarian consolidation. From this perspective, democratic contestation itself—visible in protests, judicial battles, and electoral competition—demonstrates the continuing vitality of democratic life.

It is also important to situate India within a global context. Democratic backsliding has been observed in multiple regions, including parts of Europe, Latin America, and even established Western democracies. Rising political polarisation, executive aggrandisement, and declining trust in institutions are not uniquely Indian phenomena. Thus, the challenges facing Indian democracy reflect broader global trends as well as specific domestic dynamics.

In conclusion, concerns about the decline of healthy democratic traditions in India are valid in the sense that they are supported by empirical indicators and sustained academic scrutiny. Yet these concerns coexist with evidence of democratic continuity and resilience. India today presents a complex democratic landscape: robust electoral participation alongside contested liberal safeguards; institutional continuity alongside debates about autonomy; and vibrant political mobilisation alongside concerns about civic freedoms. Whether the present trajectory represents temporary strain or long-term structural transformation remains an open question—one that will ultimately be shaped by citizens, institutions, and the evolving political culture of the Republic.

Courtesy: ChatGPT

Corporate–Hindutva Nexus in India Under Modi: Implications and Trajectories

 

Corporate–Hindutva Nexus in India Under Modi: Implications and Trajectories

-         SR Darapuri, National President, All India Peoples Front

The idea of a “corporate–Hindutva nexus” refers to a perceived convergence between large corporate interests and Hindu nationalist politics in contemporary India, especially since the ascent of Narendra Modi and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). In this framing, market-friendly reforms, concentrated economic power, and majoritarian cultural politics are seen as mutually reinforcing. Proponents of this view argue that the alignment has reshaped the country’s political economy and public sphere; critics of the concept caution against overgeneralization and note the complexity of India’s democracy, economy, and federal structure. This essay synthesizes the main claims about the nexus and assesses its implications for governance, the economy, minority rights, media and digital spaces, and India’s long-term democratic trajectory.

At the heart of the thesis is a dual transformation. On one side, India has deepened liberalization through privatization, deregulation, and an emphasis on infrastructure-led growth, logistics, and digital public goods. On the other, politics has moved toward a more assertive majoritarian nationalism, framed around cultural identity, national security, and centralized leadership. The argument is that each pillar fortifies the other: a strong state creates policy certainty and discipline prized by big business, while private capital and elite media ecosystems amplify a nation-building narrative that prioritizes stability, scale, and spectacle.

This convergence carries clear governance implications. Decision-making has become more centralized in the Prime Minister’s Office, with politics and policy tightly choreographed. Streamlined executive action can accelerate project clearances, industrial corridors, and digital platforms, but it may also compress deliberation and reduce the scope for parliamentary committees, federal bargaining, or formal stakeholder consultations. Critics view this centralization as blurring the line between party and state, while supporters argue that it overcomes bureaucratic inertia and aligns the system behind national priorities.

Economically, the government’s focus on ease of doing business, large-scale infrastructure, production-linked incentives, and financial formalization has encouraged consolidation in several sectors. This can yield efficiencies, capital deepening, and export competitiveness. Yet rising concentration—whether in ports, airports, retail, telecom, or energy—raises concerns about market power, barriers to entry, and the fate of small and medium enterprises. The tax and regulatory regime, headline reforms, and public procurement can inadvertently advantage well-capitalized players, fuelling perceptions of proximity between the state and select conglomerates. The stakes are high: India’s growth ambitions depend on both scale and diffusion—large firms that can compete globally, alongside vibrant ecosystems for MSMEs, agrarian stakeholders, startups, and informal workers.

The social and civic dimensions are equally salient. Observers point to tightened space for civil society organizations, protest movements, and universities through legal, financial, or administrative pressures. Media concentration and the rise of partisan television and social platforms have shifted incentives toward polarized, emotive coverage. The result can be a narrower Overton window for dissent and investigative journalism. At the same time, the rapid expansion of state-led digital architectures—identity, payments, data exchanges—has broadened service delivery and inclusion, even as it raises questions about surveillance, algorithmic governance, and due process. The term “digital authoritarianism” is sometimes used by critics to describe the combination of pervasive digital rails with stringent information controls and sedition- or security-linked prosecutions; defenders describe it as necessary state capacity to combat misinformation, extremism, and foreign interference.

Perhaps the most contested implications concern minorities and the secular compact. Episodes of communal tension, vigilantism, and polarizing rhetoric have prompted fears of normalized discrimination and legal marginalization. Policies on citizenship, personal law, education, and places of worship are read by some as reordering the secular settlement toward civilizational majoritarianism. Government supporters reject the charge, arguing that the state targets illegality and extremism rather than communities, and that welfare schemes—housing, sanitation, cooking gas, banking access—are universal in design and reach. The divergence here turns on lived experiences of safety and equal treatment, local administrative behaviour, and the tone set by political communication.

Federalism is another axis of tension. The pursuit of uniform national programs, tax centralization through the GST, and the political dominance of a single party at the Union level have altered centre–state dynamics. Supporters argue that scale and standardization enable national markets and rapid execution; critics contend that fiscal and administrative centralization weakens state autonomy, especially for opposition-led governments, and can politicize resource flows and investigative agencies. Over time, sustained friction risks hardening regional fault lines, while cooperative federalism could, conversely, channel competition into developmental races rather than political vendettas.

Internationally, a more muscular national identity dovetail with geoeconomic ambitions. India’s narrative of civilizational resurgence, strategic autonomy, and supply-chain realignment has appealed to partners seeking a counterweight in Asia. Corporate–state synergy can accelerate industrial policy, logistics, and green transitions that underpin this strategy. Yet reputational risks arise when human-rights concerns, religious freedom reports, or high-profile controversies make global headlines. Global capital is pragmatic but sensitive to rule-of-law signals; predictability in regulation, independent institutions, and contract enforcement remain decisive for long-horizon investment.

The long-term democratic implications hinge on institutional balance. Concentrated political and economic power can deliver speed but also requires counterweights: an independent judiciary and regulators, competitive media markets, robust right-to-information regimes, and empowered local governments. The health of these guardrails determines whether centralization becomes mission-oriented state capacity or lapses into hegemonic control. Similarly, the digital state’s promise of inclusion must be matched with strong data-protection norms, transparent algorithms, and accessible grievance redress.

Three policy pathways can mitigate the risks while preserving gains. First, strengthen competition policy and procurement transparency to curb undue concentration and ensure a level playing field for MSMEs and startups. Second, bolster institutional independence—courts, regulators, election management, and information commissions—to anchor investor confidence and civil liberties alike. Third, widen civic and media pluralism through fair licensing, diversified funding, and protections for academic freedom, matched with clear, narrowly tailored rules on online harms that respect due process.

In sum, the corporate–Hindutva thesis captures a real and important convergence in India’s current political economy: centralized governance, market-scaled ambitions, and majoritarian cultural narratives move in tandem. This alignment has delivered visible infrastructural and administrative momentum, but it also concentrates power and strains the pluralist architecture that sustains a large, diverse democracy. The balance India strikes—between speed and scrutiny, scale and diffusion, identity, and equality—will shape not only near-term growth but the character of its republic for decades to come.

Courtesy: ChatGPT