Gender gap in Parliament is a political choice

Without enforceable mechanisms to alter political parties’ behaviour, women's reservation may remain a deferred ideal

India did not reject women’s reservation; it revealed a deeper hesitation. The Constitution (106th Amendment) Act, 2023, widely referred to as the Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam, already provided for one-third reservation for women in the Lok Sabha and State Legislative Assemblies, including within Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes seats. The Act came into force on April 16. Yet its implementation remains contingent upon a delimitation exercise to be undertaken after the first Census following its commencement. On April 17, the Lok Sabha considered a subsequent constitutional amendment that sought to advance this timeline by altering the census-delimitation linkage. The amendment secured 298 votes in favour and 230 against, falling short of the required two-thirds majority. What failed was not the principle, but the effort to act on it.

This distinction matters. Article 334A, inserted through the 2023 amendment, explicitly defers reservation until a future institutional sequence is completed. With the Census pending and the last delimitation exercise having taken several years, the likelihood of reservation taking effect before the 2029 general election remains uncertain. A constitutional promise without a defined timeline risks becoming a constitutional postponement.

India’s current position reflects this gap between principle and practice. Women constitute nearly half the population, yet occupy about 14-15 per cent of seats in the Lok Sabha and around 17 per cent in the Rajya Sabha. In State Legislative Assemblies, representation is closer to 10 per cent, with a few states exceeding 20 per cent. Globally, women hold roughly 26-27 per cent of parliamentary seats. India is, therefore, not only behind leading democracies but also below the global average. The trajectory since 1952, when women accounted for just over 4 per cent of the Lok Sabha, shows progress that is gradual but limited.

The limitation lies in where the law intervenes. The 2023 framework addresses representation at the level of seats but leaves untouched the process through which candidates are selected. The failed 2026 amendment remained within this logic, focusing on accelerating seat allocation rather than regulating political party behaviour. This assumes that once seats are reserved, representation will follow. Comparative experience suggests otherwise. Representation is shaped as much by nomination as by election.

Across democracies that have significantly improved women’s representation, intervention has been directed at political parties. Argentina requires party lists to alternate between male and female candidates, and non-compliant lists are rejected. France links gender parity to public funding, reducing financial allocations to parties that do not field balanced candidate lists. Several European systems mandate quotas in the range of 30-40 per cent, backed by enforcement mechanisms such as rejection of candidate lists and placement rules to ensure that women are not confined to unwinnable positions. Rwanda combines reserved seats with party mandates, resulting in women holding over 60 per cent of seats in the lower house. Latin American countries have moved further, evolving from quota-based approaches to parity laws that have produced near-equal representation.

The principle is consistent. Representation is not left to political discretion. It is secured through institutional design that directly shapes party behaviour.

When parties act as gatekeepers

In India, that point of intervention remains largely untouched. Political parties determine candidate selection, distribution of tickets, and allocation of resources without any statutory obligation to ensure gender balance. The consequences are visible in electoral data. In the 2024 general election, women constituted less than 10 per cent of total candidates. Among major parties, the proportion of tickets allocated to women remained limited. This is the central constraint. Women candidates are not demonstrably less successful when fielded. They are simply not fielded in sufficient numbers or in constituencies where they have a realistic chance of winning.

The contrast between stated commitments and actual practice is therefore difficult to ignore. Public discourse across parties emphasises empowerment and inclusion, yet internal party structures remain predominantly male. Candidate selection continues to favour established networks and perceptions of winnability shaped by existing inequalities. The language of empowerment has advanced faster than the willingness to redistribute opportunity.

India’s experience at the local level shows that outcomes change when design changes. The Constitution mandates a minimum of one-third reservation for women in Panchayati Raj Institutions, and several states have increased this to 50 per cent. Women now constitute nearly half of all elected representatives in local governance. This expansion followed an enforceable reservation. The lesson is not that local and national politics are identical, but that institutional pathways, once created, produce participation at scale.

Political parties do not need to wait for a future Census or delimitation exercise to act. They can reform their internal structures. Party constitutions and by-laws can mandate a minimum proportion of tickets for women. Candidate selection processes can ensure that women are fielded in competitive constituencies rather than confined to symbolic participation.

The upcoming state elections in 2027, including those in Uttar Pradesh, Punjab, Goa, Manipur, Himachal Pradesh, and Gujarat, provide a clear test. If representation is a genuine priority, this electoral cycle offers an opportunity to translate commitment into practice rather than defer it.

India’s challenge is not one of ideas. The principle of reservation has been debated, legislated, and accepted. The challenge lies in implementation, specifically in the absence of mechanisms that align party behaviour with constitutional objectives. Other democracies have addressed this through mandates, incentives, and enforcement. India has, so far, relied on expectation.

Democracies are judged not only by the ideals they endorse, but by the institutions they construct to realise them. In the case of women’s political representation, India has articulated the ideal and enacted the law. What remains incomplete is the architecture that turns that law into lived reality.

(The writer is a lawyer and a former Legislative Assistants to Members of Parliament [LAMP] fellow)

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