India’s conversation on women’s political empowerment has long revolved around one number: 33%.
The passage of the Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam was celebrated as a watershed moment. Reserving one-third of seats in Parliament and state legislatures acknowledged what had long been evident: India’s democracy cannot be fully representative while women remain underrepresented in elected office.
Yet legislation alone cannot transform political culture. A constitutional amendment can create opportunities, but it cannot compel political parties to respect women once they occupy positions of power.
That is where India’s debate on women’s representation now stands. The question is no longer whether political parties support more women entering legislatures, but whether they are equally comfortable when women begin exercising authority.
Today, every political party speaks the language of women’s empowerment. Support for the Women’s Reservation Act has cut across party lines. Congress leader Priyanka Gandhi Vadra has consistently projected women’s political participation as central to her politics, while NCP (SP) leader Supriya Sule has repeatedly called for the Act’s early implementation. Their advocacy reflects a broad political consensus that India needs more women in public life.
The real test, however, begins after the oath-taking ceremony. When women move from being symbols of inclusion to becoming decision-makers, the standards applied to them often change. Their leadership is questioned sooner, their legitimacy scrutinised more intensely. Political criticism is both legitimate and necessary in a democracy. But questioning whether a woman deserved to occupy high office is something else entirely.
Take this example: Maharashtra recently crossed a historic milestone by appointing Sunetra Pawar as its first woman Deputy Chief Minister. Whatever one’s political affiliation, the appointment marked an important moment in the state’s political evolution.
The symbolism is especially significant in Maharashtra, the land of Mahatma Jyotirao Phule and Savitribai Phule, whose reform movements transformed conversations around women’s education, dignity and public participation. The appointment of the state’s first woman Deputy Chief Minister carried significance beyond the individual. It broke an institutional barrier that had stood for more than six decades and demonstrated that women, at any age, can weather the challenges of politics and lead from the front.
Sunetra Pawar assumed office only this January after serving in the Rajya Sabha, where she raised 126 questions—well above the average participation of members. Whatever one’s political views, these are measurable indicators that deserve consideration alongside political criticism.
Instead, much of the public discourse has centred on questioning her capacity to lead before her administration has had adequate time to establish its record. The contradiction is difficult to ignore. Leaders across the political spectrum advocate greater representation for women, yet a woman occupying one of Maharashtra’s highest constitutional offices continues to face sustained political attacks from the Opposition.
Governments must be scrutinised. Ministers must be held accountable. Opposition parties perform an indispensable democratic function by questioning those in power. But there is an important distinction between evaluating governance and making a woman leader herself the principal target of political contestation. Criticism should focus on decisions, policies and performance—not on the legitimacy of a woman occupying high office.
Support for women’s representation cannot end with legislative arithmetic. It must extend to accepting women in executive authority, even when they belong to rival political parties. Otherwise, women’s empowerment becomes contingent on political convenience.
If a woman leader is celebrated when she belongs to one political formation but subjected to disproportionate delegitimisation when she belongs to another, the commitment to women’s empowerment begins to look selective rather than principled.
That matters because the success of the Women’s Reservation Act will depend not only on reserved seats but also on political culture. India will see many more women enter legislatures in the years ahead. Some will become chief ministers, cabinet ministers and perhaps prime ministers. They will disagree, compete and be criticised—as every politician should be.
What they should not have to do is repeatedly prove that they deserve to occupy those offices simply because they are women.
If India truly believes women deserve a greater share of political power, then respecting women once they attain that power is not optional. It is the logical completion of the promise made by the Women’s Reservation Act.
Women’s empowerment cannot begin at the ballot box and end at the swearing-in ceremony.
Disclaimer
Views expressed above are the author’s own.
