By Antriksh Kar Singh
Edward S. Herman and Noam Chomsky popularised the concept of manufacturing consent in their seminal 1988 work Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media. They argued that media institutions often serve elite interests by privileging certain narratives while marginalising others, thereby shaping public opinion and reinforcing existing power structures.
With the rise of Web 2.0 and social media, the phenomenon of manufacturing consent has become increasingly visible across democracies. Platforms that promised greater participation and connectivity have evolved into powerful instruments of political communication. Through algorithmic amplification, targeted messaging, personalised advertisements and micro-targeting of voters, political actors can influence public perceptions with unprecedented precision. While these technologies have expanded political outreach, they have also raised concerns about the quality of information available to citizens and, consequently, about the integrity of democratic decision-making.
At the heart of democracy lies the principle of informed choice. Citizens are expected to evaluate competing political visions and elect representatives accordingly. Yet in contemporary India, a related but distinct phenomenon appears to be emerging—one that goes beyond shaping public opinion. Political actors increasingly seem capable of “manufacturing” both mandate and opposition through strategic exploitation of institutional loopholes.
Recent patterns of political defections have drawn attention to this issue. The Anti-Defection Law, introduced through the Tenth Schedule of the Constitution, was intended to curb opportunistic floor-crossing and preserve governmental stability. However, over time, its exceptions have created avenues through which legislative majorities can be reshaped without returning to the electorate.
The most significant of these exceptions permits legislators to avoid disqualification if at least two-thirds of a party’s members agree to merge with another party. In addition, decisions regarding disqualification rest with the Speaker or Chairman of the concerned House rather than an independent adjudicatory body.
Together, these provisions have transformed what was designed as a safeguard into a mechanism that can facilitate large-scale political realignment. Through carefully orchestrated defections, parties can increase their numerical strength in legislatures without contesting elections, thereby altering the balance of power while remaining formally within the law.
This process may be described as the “manufacturing of mandate.” Electoral mandates are ordinarily acquired through the ballot box. However, when legislators elected under one party banner subsequently join another formation without seeking a fresh mandate, the composition of the legislature changes independently of voter choice. The result is an expansion of political power that derives not from electoral endorsement but from post-election manoeuvring.
Equally concerning is the possibility of what may be termed the “manufacturing of opposition.” In parliamentary democracies, opposition parties perform a vital constitutional function. They scrutinise government actions, provide alternative policy perspectives and hold the executive accountable. Yet when breakaway factions claim opposition status while simultaneously aligning themselves with the interests of the ruling establishment, the distinction between government and opposition becomes blurred.Such developments create the appearance of democratic contestation while potentially weakening its substance. A legislature may continue to display all the formal characteristics of democratic competition, but the effectiveness of institutional checks and balances can be significantly diminished.
Beyond the constitutional implications lies an important ethical question. When voters elect an MP or MLA, are they voting solely for an individual candidate, or are they also endorsing a political party, its ideology and its programme?
In many Indian constituencies, party affiliation plays a decisive role in electoral outcomes. Political parties invest substantial organisational resources, build long-term voter loyalty and cultivate ideological identities that often transcend individual candidates. Consequently, when elected representatives switch allegiance without resigning and seeking re-election, it raises legitimate concerns about whether the original mandate has been respected.
The issue becomes even more pronounced in the case of Rajya Sabha members. Unlike Lok Sabha MPs, Rajya Sabha representatives are elected indirectly by state legislators. Political parties devote considerable effort to ensuring party cohesion during these elections. When such representatives later defect, questions arise about whether they continue to reflect the preferences of the political formations responsible for their election.
Defenders of defections often invoke ideological disagreements, leadership disputes or developmental considerations affecting their constituencies. Certainly, political realignment is not inherently undemocratic. Democracies must permit individuals and groups to reassess political affiliations when circumstances change. However, there is a critical distinction between genuine ideological evolution and strategic migration undertaken primarily to secure political advantage.
If large-scale defections become normalised, public trust in electoral processes may gradually erode. Citizens could reasonably question whether their votes genuinely determine legislative outcomes when post-election alignments can substantially alter the political landscape without any further consultation with the electorate.
Addressing this challenge requires institutional reform rather than reliance on judicial intervention or expectations of political self-restraint. Legislators who benefit from existing loopholes are unlikely to close them voluntarily. Consequently, structural solutions become essential.
The first reform should involve removing the authority of the Speaker or Chairman to decide disqualification cases under the Tenth Schedule. Given the inherently political nature of these offices, concerns regarding impartiality are difficult to avoid. Recognising this problem, the Supreme Court in Keisham Meghachandra Singh v. Speaker, Manipur Legislative Assembly (2020) suggested that adjudicatory powers could be transferred to an independent tribunal. Such a body, possibly headed by a retired Supreme Court judge or placed under the Election Commission, would inspire greater confidence in the fairness of the process.
A second reform concerns the merger provision itself. The present framework focuses primarily on the legislative wing of a political party. A more robust approach would require evidence that the organisational structure of the party has also merged, rather than merely a supermajority of legislators in a particular House. This would make opportunistic defections significantly more difficult while preserving the possibility of genuine political mergers.
Ultimately, the health of Indian democracy depends on preserving the integrity of the voter’s informed choice. Electoral mandates should be earned through democratic competition rather than assembled through post-election arithmetic. Unless the adjudication of defections is made independent and the merger provisions are tightened, the twin phenomena of manufacturing mandate and manufacturing opposition may continue to weaken democratic accountability from within.
(The author is a research scholar in Department of Journalism and Mass Communication, North-Eastern Hill University, Shillong, Meghalaya, India. His research work focuses on intersection of digital technologies, electoral politics, campaigns and democracy in India.Email Id: [email protected])
