The introduction of the Constitution (One Hundredth and Thirtieth Amendment) Bill, 2025, in Parliament marks a watershed moment in India's democratic journey. By proposing automatic removal of the PM, CM, and ministers-both at the Centre and in the states-if they remain in custody for 30 consecutive days for offences punishable with five years or more, the Bill sets in motion a new chapter in the battle against criminalisation of politics.

At its core, the Bill seeks to address the political and constitutional deadlock that came into focus during the recent arrest of former Delhi CM Arvind Kejriwal. His refusal to resign despite months of incarceration not only triggered a governance crisis in the national capital but also exposed the glaring lacuna in the Constitution: there exists no mechanism to force a sitting CM or PM to step down when under prolonged judicial custody. Yet, while the intent appears noble, the implications of this move will fundamentally reshape Indian politics. The first and most obvious impact is the deterrent it creates. For decades, Indian politics has been plagued by the sight of ministers continuing in office despite serious charges of corruption, violence, and abuse of power. Many refused to resign, banking on judicial delays and political patronage. The amendment promises to end this culture of impunity by tying ministerial office to continued personal freedom. If one is in custody beyond a month, the chair will not wait.

But herein lies the paradox. The architecture of India's policing and investigative system is anything but independent. While the Bill prescribes a uniform principle, its application will be skewed. The Centre controls almost all premier investigating agencies-ED, CBI, NIA and even the Delhi Police. Opposition-ruled states fear that these bodies can arrest their CMs and ministers under stringent laws such as PMLA or UAPA, ensuring their automatic removal from office. This is not a hypothetical concern; multiple state leaders have faced prolonged custody in politically sensitive cases, only to be acquitted later for want of evidence. On the other hand, it is difficult to imagine a scenario where the Prime Minister of the day or Union Ministers are arrested by agencies under their own Government. Similarly, state police forces remain loyal to the ruling establishment, rarely daring to arrest their own CM or cabinet colleagues. This asymmetry risks converting the amendment into a powerful political weapon-secure for incumbents at the Centre, vulnerable for opponents in the states.

Despite these concerns, one cannot ignore the governance vacuum that arises when a sitting head of Government is in prison. The Kejriwal episode demonstrated how routine decisions, cabinet meetings and policy implementation can stall, leading to administrative paralysis. The Supreme Court, in that case, stopped short of removing the CM but curtailed his powers. That was a judicial innovation, not a constitutional solution. The proposed amendment seeks to provide clarity: governance cannot be led from jail. This clarity, however, comes with the risk of destabilisation. The amendment does allow reappointment upon release, but political damage by then is often irreversible.

Regardless of its eventual passage, the Bill has already shifted the discourse in Indian politics. For the first time, the question of what happens if a head of Government is in custody is being answered not by convention or judicial improvisation but by constitutional law. Opposition parties will undoubtedly protest, pointing to the scope for misuse. The Government, in turn, will highlight its resolve to cleanse politics. Both narratives will shape public perception in the months ahead.

As the Bill goes before a joint parliamentary committee, amendments are likely. Safeguards-perhaps requiring judicial confirmation of charges before automatic removal-may be debated. But the discourse it has sparked cannot be undone. India is now openly confronting the clash between the principle of presumption of innocence and the need to ensure untainted governance. In the long run, the effectiveness of this law will depend not on its text but on the fairness of its enforcement.