In April 2026, the Government of India pushed to advance delimitation (the redrawing of electoral constituency boundaries), one of the most politically debated propositions in the country. It presented delimitation as a constitutional amendment essential to delivering the democratic promise of reserving parliamentary seats for women. The Opposition rejected linking women’s reservation to the delimitation exercise, resulting in the defeat of the proposed amendment.
What became clear during this episode was that women’s political representation had been made hostage to a separate battle over electoral power.
What became clear during this episode was that women’s political representation had been made hostage to a separate battle over electoral power. However, the instrumentalisation of women’s reservation did not begin with delimitation; it merely brought into the open what was already embedded in the Constitution (One Hundred and Sixth Amendment) Act, 2023, i.e. the Women’s Reservation Act, from the start.
The bill’s own language betrays it
Within the fine print of the Women’s Reservation Bill, 2023, point 2 of the ‘Statement of Objects and Reasons’ states: ‘True empowerment of women will require greater participation of women in the decision-making process as they bring different perspectives and enrich the quality of legislative debates and decision-making.’
Women’s participation is not justified as a democratic right or as a correction to the structural exclusion that keeps women out of political decision-making. Instead, it is justified in terms of what women can do for the Parliament and Indian politics.
At first glance, this may appear progressive. But a closer look at what it assumes and states as underlying expectations paints a different picture. Women’s participation is not justified as a democratic right or as a correction to the structural exclusion that keeps women out of political decision-making. Instead, it is justified in terms of what women can do for the Parliament and Indian politics.
Their presence is framed as valuable because it will ‘enrich’ debates. Here, representation is conditional on usefulness: if women enhance the ‘quality’ of legislative debates, discussion, and decision-making, only then are they welcome to participate in politics.
Further, the rhetoric of women bringing ‘different perspectives’ carries a quiet trap of its own. If women are valued for what they distinctively contribute, one should ask, what kinds of contributions are expected from them? The answer, historically, has been a limited and gendered one.
Across demographics, women legislators are routinely assigned portfolios that pertain to gender equality, family welfare, social inclusion, health, communications, and gender-based violence. On the other hand, defence, infrastructure, and foreign policy continue to be treated as ‘masculine’ subjects, and are assigned to men. India is no exception to this trend. An analysis of women in the Union Council of Ministers between 1952 and 2019 shows that women ministers have most commonly held Information and Broadcasting, Culture, and other social sector ministry portfolios, while rarely holding economic or security ministries, except in rare instances.
When representation is justified through the ability to bring in ‘different perspectives’, it risks widening the gender gap rather than closing it. The language of enrichment can become an invisible ceiling for what women can or cannot do as parliamentarians.
When representation is justified through the ability to bring in ‘different perspectives’, it risks widening the gender gap rather than closing it. Women become symbolic bearers of ‘women’s issues’, as opposed to becoming full political actors who have the power to shape every domain of governance. Here, the language of enrichment can become an invisible ceiling for what women can or cannot do as parliamentarians.
What women’s leadership can actually achieve
India already has evidence of what happens when this ceiling is removed, at least at one level of governance: its Panchayati Raj Institutions. Evidence from Rajasthan and West Bengal suggests that gram panchayats headed by women invested significantly more in drinking water and road infrastructure — issues that seemingly disproportionately impact women, but have the potential to generate positive impacts for all groups. A 2024 Observer Research Foundation study noted that women elected representatives in local rural governments played a pivotal role during the pandemic by identifying returning migrants, coordinating ration distribution, and securing hospital beds.
These are narratives of women actively redirecting resources, widening state priorities, and shaping what governance looks like on the ground. However, more importantly, this signals that women are not the only beneficiaries of the efforts they lead; entire communities benefit from them.
Two versions of empowerment
The delimitation controversy is eye-opening, as it makes visible a gap between two versions of empowerment. The first is a version where women’s political representation is instrumentalised, which the delimitation linkage exposed, and the original bill’s language reflects. In this version, women’s representation is a means to other ends: uneven distribution of political power between regions and improved quality of legislative debates. Because women’s presence in power was never the primary objective, reservation becomes a promise that can be deferred, made conditional, or leveraged.
Because women’s presence in power was never the primary objective, reservation becomes a promise that can be deferred, made conditional, or leveraged.
However, there is another version in which women’s reservation has real promise. Implemented sincerely, with reforms in party candidate selection, caste and class inclusion, and institutional support for women entering politics, it could achieve something far more important than improving the quality of India’s legislative debates. It could normalise women as decision-makers across every sphere of public life. Genuine empowerment would not be women being invited to better politics, but women having the power to transform it, for everyone.
About the author(s)
Garima Agarwal (she/her) is a policy analyst at The Quantum Hub (TQH Consulting), where she works on gender, labour participation, and the digital economy. She holds a Master’s in Social Policy from the London School of Economics (LSE) and a Master’s in Psychology from the University of Delhi. She is passionate about working at the intersection of research and practice to drive actionable change.
