Time for ADR to Rethink Its Branding

The Association for Democratic Reforms (ADR) has once again made sweeping claims, branding 71% of the newly formed Delhi Cabinet as “criminals” and “crorepatis.” According to its latest report, five out of seven ministers, including the Chief Minister, have criminal cases against them. Additionally, the two have been labelled as wealthy simply because of their declared assets in the affidavit. While ADR justifies its findings based on election affidavits, its approach raises serious concerns about its credibility and objectivity. First, let’s get the legal facts straight. Under Indian law, a person cannot be called a criminal unless they are convicted by a court of law. The mere existence of a case—whether frivolous, politically motivated, or pending trial—does not make someone a criminal. If ADR wants to maintain its reputation as an impartial watchdog, it should differentiate between allegations and convictions. By lumping minor infractions, politically motivated cases, and serious offenses together, ADR is not serving democracy—it is distorting it. The organization also needs to clarify its parameters for labelling someone a “crorepati.” In today’s economy, even a middle-class family owning a modest two-bedroom flat in a metro city technically qualifies as one. Should someone who has built assets over a lifetime—perhaps through honest means—be painted as part of the corrupt elite? This kind of simplistic categorization fuels unnecessary public cynicism and distracts from genuine concerns about wealth concentration and corruption.

ADR’s role in electoral transparency is commendable, but it must uphold a higher standard of fairness and accuracy. The organization was founded with noble intentions by a group of IIM professors and legal experts. It played a crucial role in ensuring that political candidates disclose their criminal, financial, and educational backgrounds. But disclosure should not automatically translate into vilification. Simply filing an affidavit that mentions a pending case does not imply guilt. If ADR is serious about strengthening democracy, it should provide context—specifying the nature of the cases, whether they stem from political vendettas, or if they involve minor infractions rather than serious offenses. Consider the practical impact of ADR’s branding. By loosely labelling politicians as criminals, it indirectly fuels public distrust in democratic institutions. This serves no one except those who thrive on chaos and misinformation. If ADR genuinely aims to reform politics, it should advocate for systemic changes—like speedy trials for political cases—rather than resorting to blanket accusations that may lack substance. ADR must decide what kind of institution it wants to be. If it aspires to be a credible force for transparency, it should act responsibly, ensuring that its reports provide clarity rather than confusion. Otherwise, it risks being seen as just another entity engaging in the very practices it claims to oppose—sensationalism, half-truths, and narrative-building without solid ground. India’s democracy needs rigorous scrutiny, but it must be backed by fairness, not reckless branding.