Beyond quota, the missing feminine in Indian politics

The recent failure of the Constitution (131st Amendment) Bill in the Lok Sabha—falling short of the mandatory two-thirds majority despite a high-stakes vote—has once again stalled the operationalisation of the Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam.

Coupled with the intense friction over the Delimitation Bill, 2026, and the ongoing census, the national discourse is trapped in a numbers game. India is debating seat counts, population-to-representative ratios, and regional balances, yet it ignores the more fundamental "nature" of the House these women are meant to enter.

The deadlock is often framed as a "deficiency" in political consensus or a logistical hurdle of delimitation. However, it is time to shift the burden of proof away from the supposed lack of women’s "winnability" and toward the deficiency of the political sphere itself.

The current political environment is culturally "stunted", operating on a narrow, aggressive subset of human nature. By treating politics as a theatre of muscle and money power, we have created a structural barrier that marginalises not just biological women but any individual who prioritises the feminine principle of nurturance over the masculine impulse of dominance.

In India's current electoral culture, the "successful" candidate is often a euphemism for the "masculine" candidate. The entry requirements—handling violence, navigating opaque financial networks, and surviving hyper-aggressive rhetoric—act as a filter.

This forces biological women into a Faustian bargain: to survive in the well of the House, they must adopt the very paurusheya (masculine) traits that the spirit of representation seeks to balance. When a woman is forced to function as a "political man" to win, numerical representation becomes a hollow victory.

Indian tradition offers a profound critique of this imbalance through the concept of ardhanarishwara. Here, stritva (femininity) and purushatva (masculinity) are not merely biological labels but essential qualities (gunas) required for a balanced human existence. A leader is one who, like Shiva, can balance the strength of transformation with the grace of sustenance.

It is telling that many of India’s most progressive gender laws—from property rights to anti-dowry provisions—were initiated and passed by male-dominated parliaments.

This suggests that the capacity to protect women’s interests is not a biological monopoly but an ethical one. It proves that when the "feminine principle" of justice and care is activated within a legislator, representation happens naturally, regardless of their sex.

The "logical clincher" for our democracy is this: if we succeed in transforming the nature of politics from a game of dominance to a platform of Dharma (balance), the presence of women will no longer require the intervention of a "forced quota". A political culture hospitable to the Stritva principle—one that values consensus, communal well-being, and social harmony—will naturally draw women into its fold as biological entities.

The most compelling evidence for this argument lies in India’s education sector. Over the last two decades, as we moved toward ensuring a transparent and secure environment for examinations, we witnessed a remarkable shift: girls began to consistently outnumber and outperform boys in merit lists across the country.

This systemic triumph was not achieved through quotas but by creating a "level playing field" where academic merit was protected from the external pressures of physical intimidation or social dominance. When the environment was made hospitable to discipline and intellect—qualities inherent in both natures—the "biological entry" of women took care of itself.

Our goal must move beyond the narrow corridors of legislative mandates. We do not just need more laws; we need a cultural shift that de-masculinises the public sphere. The current impasse in Parliament should be seen as an opportunity not just to redraw our constituencies but also to redraw our political consciousness.

Until the "nature" of Indian politics changes, changing the faces in the seats will serve no meaningful purpose. The true measure of our progress will not be a 33% quota but a politics where the feminine principle is finally given its rightful, equal half.

The writer is a retired professor of political science, Kuvempu University.

(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.)