Parliament this week turned into a circus. Papers were flying, tempers were boiling, and the Home Minister was ducking like a schoolboy dodging chalk in class. The trigger? Bills that say the Prime Minister, Chief Ministers and Ministers must automatically vacate office if they spend more than 30 days in judicial custody.
Now, strip away the drama and you find two simple truths: morality in politics is dead, and a law without safeguards is like giving a loaded gun to a monkey. Once upon a time, when leaders faced serious charges, they stepped aside. Resignation was not seen as weakness, it was seen as dignity. Even Amit Shah himself quit his ministerial post when he was arrested in 2010. Compare that with today, where resignation is treated like an extinct species. Forget stepping down—leaders now cling to the chair as if superglue was applied to it. Public service has become about the seat, not the people. Public office is not a private fiefdom. It is a sacred trust, a call to serve the people who entrust leaders with their hopes.
And let’s be clear: nobody wants a Prime Minister running cabinet meetings from a jail cell, shouting instructions through the bars. If you are inside for a month on serious charges, common sense says you cannot continue. A law to enforce that sounds logical—because morality has become optional.
But here’s the catch.
Laws are written with good intent; politics often reads them with bad intent. What if an investigating officer decides to play God? What if a case is cooked up, bail is delayed, and the clock ticks to 30 days? Presto—an elected government falls. Think about it: an IO with a grudge could hold the fate of the country in his pen. Even Shakespeare couldn’t have written such a tragic comedy.
Is former Member of Punjab Public Service Commission
A farmer and keen observer of current affairs
And here is the saddest part: the founders of our Constitution would never have imagined this situation. For them, it was basic morality and decency that a leader under a cloud would resign. They would have laughed at the very idea of legislating such obvious conduct. Today, one can almost picture them in their heavenly abodes, scratching their heads and asking: what went so wrong with the political class that we now need a law to enforce common sense?
That’s why this bill, without strong safeguards, is dangerous. We don’t want governments run from jail. But we also don’t want governments toppled into jail.
There are fixes. Make judicial oversight mandatory before removal. Ensure quick trials. Allow reinstatement if charges collapse. At least then, morality won’t be replaced with mischief.
But the bigger question is this: why do we even need a law to remind politicians of basic decency? Shouldn’t stepping aside when under a dark cloud be instinctive? Sadly, in today’s political market, morality has been replaced by marketing. Power is not seen as service, but as a possession to guard at all costs—even if it means governing with handcuffs.
So here we are. Bills in Parliament, papers flying, and the public left wondering: are we legislating morality, or just scripting another season of political theatre?
Until leaders rediscover the old virtue of stepping down voluntarily, we will keep swinging between morality that is absent and laws that can be abused.
Either way, the joke is on us, the citizens.