Laws, Letter and Spirit

Framing good laws is very hard. Partly because a law is framed based on a particular need of a particular time, based on what the legislators can visualize. But once the law is framed, times change and unforeseen use cases arise. Or just as likely, people find a way to subvert the law by going by the letter, not the spirit.

 

Take the money bill topic. There’s a lot of criticism that the BJP government classifies all kinds of bills (including non-money bills) as money bills, i.e., related to finances. Why? Because a money bill only needs Lok Sabha approval, where the BJP has the numbers. Whereas a non-money bill requires both houses to approve, and the BJP lacks the numbers in the Rajya Sabha.

 

Ever wondered why the concept of money bills even exists? It is because we copied our constitution from the British. And why did the British have this concept, when so many democracies like the US don’t? Alok Prasanna Kumar explains. In UK, there was a constitutional crisis in 1909. The lower house wanted to increase taxes on the rich. But the rich, many of who inherited their positions into the upper house (House of Lords) obviously opposed it. The bill simply could not pass through both houses. The lower house and the common man were furious – how could unelected members block a bill that was for the greater good? Ergo, the idea of the “money bill”:

“(It) removed the power of the House of Lords to reject ‘money bills’ passed in the House of Commons. Only the Speaker of the House of Commons could certify any Bill as a ‘money bill’, and once it was so certified, no one could challenge it.”

The intent and need for such a provision makes sense, esp. when you have unelected members, as is the case in UK and India. Over time, it begins to get misused if a party has a majority only in the lower house.

 

As I was reading this satirical-yet-educational fiction on how the Indian Parliament works called Parliamental by Meghnad S., I could see the same pattern with another law, this one uniquely Indian – the anti-defection law. It was framed at a time when individual MP’s (and MLA’s) would be bought off to prop up (or bring down) governments:

“By one estimate, almost 50 per cent of the 4,000 legislators elected to central and federal parliaments in the 1967 and 1971 general elections subsequently defected, leading to political turmoil in the country.”

It was the era of fickle Aaya Ram, Gaya Ram. Public fury mounted at such brazen opportunism. Ergo, the anti-defection law of 1985:

“The law laid out the process for disqualifying an elected member for the remaining term, who either resigned from, voted against the will of the belonging party or remained absent during voting on a crucial bill.”

In the book, Meghnad S. points out how the law has unfortunately resulted in a situation where MP’s and MLA’s cannot vote on any topic as they feel right, unless their party gives explicit permission. By default, all members have to vote exactly the way the party whip announces. Another example of side-effects.