When citizens vote, they’re not just selecting a candidate; they’re selecting a vision, a trajectory, and ultimately, a future. Elections aren’t just about promises; they’re about trust.
But trust must go beyond leaders. It must rest in the integrity of the system and the institutions that manage it. Without trust in the process, democracy falters.
The right to vote is not a privilege. It is a promise from the state that every voice matters. In India, this trust lies with the Election Commission of India, led by the chief election commissioner, which oversees state and national elections. However, today that promise is under pressure.
Ahead of the November 2025 Bihar State Assembly elections, the Election Commission of India has launched a special intensive revision of the electoral rolls, the first such revision in the state since 2003. But the method has sparked widespread concern. Unlike the earlier process in 2003, in which election officials went door-to-door to verify voter data, voters must now submit forms themselves to local officials known as booth level officers.
A key requirement seen as controversial is that each of the approximately 29 million voters registered after 2003 is now required to provide one of 11 specific documents showing proof of date and place of birth.
Commonly used national IDs such as Aadhaar (a 12-digit biometric identity number), PAN cards (used for tax identification), or existing voter ID cards (valid only for voting) are not accepted. This creates serious obstacles for many, especially senior citizens, internal migrants and anyone born before digitized birth records were common.
Critics warn the process could exclude vulnerable groups such as students, migrant workers and low-income communities. Around 80 million voters across Bihar are required to submit forms, with 30 million needing additional birth documents – all under tight deadlines (forms were due by June 25, draft rolls by August 1).
Many feared this process could mirror the National Register of Citizens exercise previously conducted in the state of Assam, which aimed to identify undocumented residents but ended up disenfranchising many poor and marginalized individuals. In Bihar, there’s growing concern that nearly 20% of the state’s migrant population could lose their voting rights.
As expected, over 6.5 million voters were removed from the draft rolls published by the Election Commission on August 1. Following public outcry, On 14th August India’s Supreme Court directed the commission to publish details of those removed.
Opposition leaders have long argued that the rushed process is undermining public trust in democratic institutions. Yet, the authorities have largely ignored these concerns, raising a broader question: Why is such a massive overhaul being pushed through so hastily?
Election Commission : from pillar of neutrality to favoritism
In March 2023, the Supreme Court ruled that the chief election commissioner and the other election commissioners must be appointed by a panel including the prime minister, the leader of opposition and the chief justice of India to protect its independence.
But in August 2023, the government amended the law. The revised law gave the chief justice’s spot on the panel to a cabinet minister to be chosen by the prime minister, giving the ruling party a two-to-one majority in the selection process, undermining the Supreme Court’s intent. The consequences were swift and alarming.
In Feb 2025, Gyanesh Kumar was appointed chief election commissioner for four years, just 48 hours before a scheduled Supreme Court hearing on the legality of the new selection process. His late-night appointment, shrouded in secrecy, sparked widespread outrage. Opposition parties denounced it as a “midnight coup on the constitution.”
But what makes Kumar’s appointment particularly contentious is his background.
Between 2018 and 2021, Gyanesh Kumar served in the Ministry of Home Affairs, under Minister Amit Shah, a senior cabinet minister and key political strategist for the ruling party.
Kumar had been involved, as a cabinet member, in highly sensitive and politically charged decisions, including the repeal of Article 370 (which removed special status from Jammu and Kashmir) and the formation of the Ram Janmabhoomi Trust (linked to the construction of a temple on a disputed religious site). Both are core ideological issues for the ruling party and highly sensitive among minority communities.
Kumar emerged as a trusted executor of high-voltage political decisions for the ruling party. But in a democratic framework, trust from the ruling party or government is not a qualification, it is a conflict of interest.
Can someone so deeply embedded in ideological policymaking now impartially supervise fair elections involving the same political actors he once served? It certainly indicates a deep systematic issue.
The political-bureaucratic nexus that’s killing democracy
India’s political system suffers not only from family dynastic politics but also from bureaucratic dynasties. These are families boasting multiple generations of elite civil service in the Indian Administrative Service or Indian Police Service who wield immense quiet power, often beyond public accountability.
Over 60% of Administrative Service officers come from just five states out of 28. Their influence extends quietly into policy, appointments and even major scams.
Gyanesh Kumar belongs to one such powerful bureaucratic family. His two daughters, brother and both sons-in-law are Administrative Service officers, making a total of six family members who hold top administrative positions – in a country where securing a small government job requires years of grueling preparation and fierce competition often seen as pathways to social mobility.
This kind of consolidated administrative power is rare and deeply troubling in a democracy that claims equality and transparency.
Bureaucrats, unlike politicians, operate under the radar. Their post-retirement roles. often in tribunals, corporations or even politics often blur the line between administration and electoral politics. In such a system, loyalty can outlast accountability.
Gyanesh Kumar may be a competent officer, but ability without impartiality is power without principle and a threat to every voter and citizen and to the very promise of Indian democracy.
In a democracy, the most powerful figure is not the prime minister but the citizen with a vote. But when the umpire starts wearing the team’s jersey, the match becomes meaningless.