Telangana ‘defections’ case is a litmus test for the Tenth Schedule

The Supreme Court is again talking about Telangana defections. In the high-stakes arena of Telangana politics, the office of the Legislative Assembly Speaker has become the focal point of a constitutional showdown.

As of this month, Speaker G Prasad Kumar finds himself at the centre of a legal storm involving 10 BRS (Bharat Rashtra Samithi) legislators, who reportedly defected to the ruling Congress party.

The Speaker is in a quasi-judicial position in judging the political matter of defections under the defection law. While the Speaker has recently cleared eight of these MLAs, citing “insufficient proof,” the fate of two prominent figures—Danam Nagender and Kadiyam Srihari—remains in limbo. In fact, the names and numbers will not matter. Not mostly the constitutional issue, but on opportunistic competition of politics in clinging to power. This saga is not merely a local political skirmish; it is a profound case study of the Tenth Schedule of the Indian Constitution, the evolving role of the Speaker as a quasi-judicial tribunal, and the fragile balance between political loyalty and the “freedom” to defect.

The Anti-Defection Law was introduced via the 52nd Amendment in 1985 to combat the “Aaya Ram, Gaya Ram” culture of the 1960s, when legislators frequently switched parties for personal gain.

Is it voluntary relinquishment?

A member is disqualified if he or she voluntarily give up membership in their political party. The Supreme Court has clarified that “giving up membership” doesn’t require a formal resignation; conduct, such as attending another party’s rallies or campaigning against one’s own party, can suffice.

Defying the party whip: Voting or abstaining from voting against the party directions without taking prior permission is defiance of the party whip and results in disqualification.

How do the 2/3rd Merger Rule operate? Originally, a “split” by one-third of a party was permitted. However, the 91st Amendment (2003) tightened this, now requiring at least two-thirds of a legislative party to agree to a merger with another party to avoid disqualification.

The Speaker’s role:

When the Chief Minister is deciding, what can the Speaker do? Under Paragraph 6 of the Tenth Schedule, the Speaker (or Chairman) is the sole authority to decide disqualification petitions. While the law originally sought to bar judicial interference, the landmark Kihoto Hollohan (1992) case established that the Speaker acts as a quasi-judicial tribunal. Consequently, their decisions are subject to judicial review by the High Courts and Supreme Court on grounds of mala fides, perversity, or violation of natural justice. He has dealt with ‘bias’ or impartiality.

TG’s political chessboard-2024–2026:

The current crisis traces back to the 2023 Assembly elections, where Congress unseated the BRS. Soon after, reports emerged of BRS MLAs meeting Chief Minister A Revanth Reddy. The BRS leadership alleged that this act was defection; the MLAs countered they were merely seeking “development funds” for their constituencies.

The “clean chits” and pending verdicts:

As things stand, Speaker Prasad Kumar has dismissed petitions against eight MLAs, including M. Sanjay Kumar, claiming the BRS failed to provide “sufficient proof.” The BRS, led by its working president K T Rama Rao, has decried this as a “murder of democracy,” arguing that the MLAs’ public participation in Congress events is proof enough.

The cases of Nagender and Srihari are particularly contentious:

Danam Nagender: Allegedly contested the 2024 Lok Sabha elections on a Congress ticket while remaining a BRS MLA.

Kadiyam Srihari: Reportedly campaigned for his daughter, who was in the fray as a Congress candidate.

The Speaker served notices only after the Supreme Court intervened, following a petition by the BRS. The apex court has recently issued a stern “last warning,” giving the Speaker until late February to resolve these cases or face potential contempt charges.

The myth of the “freedom to defect:

The argument of “freedom to defect” often cloaks itself in the language of conscience or constituency development. However, in a parliamentary democracy like India, this “freedom” is a constitutional paradox.

MLA’s love development!

The defecting MLAs argue that meeting the CM for “development purposes” and paying a nominal ₹5,000 fee to the BRS legislative wing proves their continued loyalty. Legally or otherwise, this is a thin veil. It is difficult to decide or conduct. Who can give a conduct certificate? In many precedents, the Supreme Court has looked into past such technicalities to the “substance” of a member’s conduct. If an MLA acts as a part of the ruling party’s machinery, the nominal payment of party dues is rarely a sufficient defence against the charge of voluntarily giving up membership.

“Robots” of the party leadership:

Critics of the Anti-Defection Law argue that it turns legislators into “robots” of the party leadership. However, the counter-argument is stronger: in India, people largely vote for the party symbol and the leader, not just the candidate. It is the individual conscience that defines voter’s mandate. Defecting after a win is seen as a betrayal of the collective mandate. The law prioritises political stability over individual legislative freedom to ensure that governments aren’t toppled by “horse-trading.”

Law, flaw and Speaker’s neutrality:

The Telangana situation highlights a systemic flaw: The Speaker remains a member of the ruling party. This creates an inherent conflict of interest when the ruling party stands to benefit from defections. The Supreme Court in Keisham Meghachandra Singh (2020) suggested that Parliament should consider setting up an independent permanent tribunal (headed by a retired judge) to decide these cases, removing the political bias from the process.

A test of the MLA and Speaker’s integrity:

It is a fight between a paper tiger called law and loyalty means ethics. The Telangana MLAs case is a litmus test for the Tenth Schedule. If the Speaker continues to dismiss petitions based on “lack of proof” despite visible shifts in political allegiance, it renders the Anti-Defection Law a “paper tiger.” Conversely, if the Supreme Court begins to set timelines and review the merits of the evidence (rather than just the procedure), it signals a shift toward a more interventionist judiciary protecting the spirit of the Constitution. But then what about the integrity of the Speaker?

The outcome for Danam Nagender and Kadiyam Srihari will likely set a major precedent for how “evidence” of defection is weighed in the digital age, where public appearances and social media posts often tell a different story than legislative affidavits.

(The writer is Advisor, School of Law, Mahindra University, Hyderabad)