Defects affect the moral sanctity of democracy

Winston Churchill once said that “some men change sides for their principles, others change principles for their party”. But India seems to have perfected a third category – politicians who abandon both party and principle for power.

The collapse of the Trinamool Congress and the Shiv Sena-UBT (Uddhav Bal Thackeray) are just the latest examples of a worrying trend regarding elections. Leaders are campaigning bitterly, questioning each other’s integrity and commitment to the nation, while voters are asked to choose between sharply contrasting visions of India’s future. However, once the ballots are counted, many of these differences will dissolve, and the hitherto irreconcilable opponents will become political partners. Principles give way to pragmatism, and power becomes the only lasting conviction.

The immediate consequences are political, with governments becoming stronger and opposition parties weaker. But the deeper sacrifice is something far more valuable—the sanctity of the democratic mandate.

Far reaching consequences

In a parliamentary democracy, citizens do not just vote for individuals. They vote for an idea, a manifesto and a political alternative. When an elected representative switches after winning on another party’s symbol, it’s not just a change of affiliation; it is a unilateral rewriting of the contract concluded with the voter. The mandate that belongs to the electorate now becomes the private property of the elected representative.

It also exposes the perverse incentives increasingly at work within Indian politics. Politicians facing investigations or legal challenges often seem to discover ideological compatibility with the party in power. Equally striking is the troubling public perception that the intensity of investigations is often reduced following such reshuffles. Democracies rely not only on fairness, but also on public trust that institutions operate without political favor. Once that trust is eroded, the damage goes far beyond any single party or government.

The greater victim is the democratic competition itself. Every democracy requires an elected government and an opposition capable of examining, questioning and presenting a credible alternative. Without this balance, elections risk becoming contests for access to power rather than contests of ideas.

But there is an even greater paradox. Prime Minister Narendra Modi continues to win the trust of a significant majority of Indian voters. Few leaders in the history of independent India have enjoyed such sustained popular support. The Bharatiya Janata Party has repeatedly demonstrated that it can win elections on its own political challenge. If the electorate has already granted such a powerful mandate, why must that mandate be strengthened by the constant migration of dubious legislators elected on the symbols of competing parties?

History suggests that great democracies are characterized not by governments that accumulate the most power, but by governments confident enough to allow credible opposition to survive and compete.

Aristotle argued more than two millennia ago that political systems cease to be virtuous when public office becomes an instrument of private advantage rather than the public good. Kautilya’s wisdom lay in the knowledge that the legitimacy of a ruler rested on the trust of the people. Even Machiavelli, often caricatured as the apostle of brute power, warned that the destruction of all independent centers of influence ultimately weakens the state itself. The tragedy of modern democracies is that electoral mandates are increasingly treated not as solemn commitments of public trust but as tradable assets in the market of power.

History offers sobering parallels. Italy’s post-war Transformismo saw politicians frequently shift allegiances and governments held together by patronage rather than ideology. Brazil’s coalition presidency has often promoted transactional politics. The Philippines has long struggled with a culture of political cross-dressing. Although they are not identical, they share a common lesson: when political office becomes tradable property, institutional decay begins and citizens lose faith in the system.

Voter loss

But perhaps the hardest questions are not just for politicians. Why do parties continue to nominate candidates whose beliefs seem so negotiable? Why is the mainstream media celebrating defections as strategic maneuvers instead of denouncing them as voter betrayal? And why do voters so often condone the very behavior they publicly condemn?

If opportunism flourishes, it is because parties reward it and institutions fail to discourage it, while citizens gradually accept it as normal.

The biggest victim of political defections is not the opposition party, which has lost a lawmaker. He is a voter. A voter casts a ballot believing that it represents a choice between competing visions for the country. When that representative later leaves the very platform on which the vote was cast, the voter is dispossessed.

Perhaps the greatest lesson of history is not that democracies collapse when governments become too powerful. They weaken when citizens come to believe that their vote is merely a springboard for politicians to negotiate a better deal after the election.

Indian democracy is strong enough to produce decisive mandates. It must also be strong enough to preserve the sanctity of these mandates. The vote is not a transferable property belonging to the elected representative; it is the trust placed by the citizen. When that trust can be traded for power, the real apostate isn’t the politician—it’s democracy itself.

Prabal Basu Roy is a Sloan Fellow at the London Business School

Published – 21 Jul 2026 0:39 IST