There was a time when disruption in Parliament was an exception — a last resort deployed in moments of grave national crisis. Today, it risks becoming a political strategy. And the BJP-led NDA appears to have decided that enough is enough. For the past week, the Budget Session of Parliament — particularly the Lok Sabha — has been repeatedly stalled, with Leader of the Opposition Rahul Gandhi at the centre of the storm. His remarks on the India–US trade deal have drawn sharp rebuttals. But what has rankled the treasury benches is not merely criticism — it is what they see as a pattern: allegation without substantiation, theatre without responsibility, and obstruction without accountability. In response, BJP MP Nishikant Dubey has submitted a notice seeking to initiate a “substantive motion” against Rahul Gandhi.
The demand is sweeping — cancellation of his Lok Sabha membership and even a lifetime ban from contesting elections, alleging collusion with “anti-India elements.” The demand is politically explosive. But before outrage replaces understanding, it is important to examine the constitutional mechanics involved. A substantive motion is not a slogan. It is a formal, independent proposal placed before the House to express its will or opinion on a significant matter. Any Member of Parliament may move such a motion. If admitted and passed, it reflects the collective judgment of the House — not the vendetta of an individual. This is different from a privilege motion, which is invoked when a Member is accused of breaching parliamentary privilege or misleading the House. Privilege motions typically go before the Privileges Committee or Ethics Committee for investigation. The Constitution and the law provide multiple routes through which an MP may lose membership. Under Article 102, disqualification may arise for holding an office of profit, unsoundness of mind, insolvency, or lack of citizenship. The Tenth Schedule — the Anti-Defection Law — disqualifies members who violate party whips or defect. The Representation of the People Act, 1951, mandates immediate disqualification upon conviction with a sentence of two years or more. But beyond these, the Lok Sabha also retains the power of expulsion.
Though expulsion is not explicitly mentioned in the Constitution, it flows from Article 105 and parliamentary privilege. The House has the authority to protect its dignity and functioning. Expulsion is rare and extreme — reserved for serious misconduct, corruption, contempt, or actions deemed damaging to Parliament’s integrity. History shows that this power is not theoretical. In 2005, eleven MPs were expelled in the cash-for-query scandal — one of the largest mass expulsions in parliamentary history. More recently, TMC MP Mahua Moitra was expelled following an Ethics Committee inquiry. The message was clear: parliamentary privilege is not ornamental; it is enforceable. Against this backdrop, the BJP’s move must be understood as an assertion of institutional authority rather than merely political retaliation. What has deeply disturbed observers is the allegation that Congress MPs, including Priyanka Gandhi Vadra, allegedly attempted to orchestrate scenes bordering on chaos — including asking women MPs to encircle the Prime Minister as he entered the House. If true, such tactics represent not protest but provocation. The Prime Minister is not merely a party leader; he is the Leader of the House. Targeting him physically inside Parliament would be unprecedented and corrosive to democratic norms. Criticism of the government is the Opposition’s duty. Disruption cannot become its identity. Parliament is not a campus protest site. It is a constitutional arena governed by procedure, precedent, and restraint. When the Leader of the Opposition repeatedly stalls proceedings, reduces debate to spectacle, and escalates confrontation into personal insinuation, the institution itself suffers. Democracy thrives on dissent — but dissent must operate within rules. The tragedy is not political embarrassment. It is public disillusionment. Citizens who tune in hoping for an informed debate increasingly witness sloganeering, walkouts, and adjournments. The cost is borne not by politicians, but by legislative business — budgets delayed, bills deferred, national issues left hanging. The BJP’s hard line may invite charges of intolerance. Yet there is a legitimate argument that persistent disorder cannot be normalised. If Parliament’s dignity is repeatedly undermined, corrective measures — even drastic ones — become part of constitutional self-defense. The question is no longer about one individual. It is about whether India’s highest legislative forum will function as a debating chamber or devolve into permanent agitation. Freedom of speech in Parliament is protected. Freedom from consequences is not. If the House decides to act, it will do so through established procedures — a committee inquiry, debate, and a vote. That is democracy at work. What is not democratic is converting Parliament into a theatre while invoking the Constitution as a shield. Institutions endure only when their custodians respect them. The current confrontation is a test — not of party strength, but of parliamentary character.
