

Dipak Kurmi
(You can reach the writer at dipakkurmiglpltd@gmail.com)
On January 25, 1950, just two days before India formally proclaimed itself a republic, a modest yet momentous institution came into existence: the Election Commission of India. Born in the uncertain interregnum between colonial rule and constitutional self-government, the Commission was entrusted with a responsibility unprecedented in both scale and complexity. It was asked to organise free and fair elections in a country of vast geography, staggering social diversity, entrenched poverty, and widespread illiteracy. At the time, few democracies anywhere in the world had attempted universal adult franchise under such conditions. That Indian democracy has not only survived but endured for seventy-seven years stands today as a quiet yet powerful rebuttal to the scepticism that once surrounded this grand experiment.
At its inception, the Election Commission was a one-member body operating in an India still reeling from the trauma of Partition and communal violence. Institutions were fragile, administrative capacity was limited, and the economy remained overwhelmingly agrarian. The odds were formidable. In influential intellectual and political circles abroad, it was confidently asserted that democracy could not take root in a poor and "backward" society. Universal adult franchise, critics argued, was a luxury India could scarcely afford, let alone sustain. The prevailing assumption was that political stability required economic prosperity first and that India's conditions made authoritarian or guided governance inevitable.
History, however, charted a very different course. What has unfolded since 1950 is not merely a chronicle of elections conducted but a deeper story of institutional resilience, administrative imagination, and faith in the constitutional promise of popular sovereignty. From supervising the first general elections in 1951-52, involving over 173 million voters, most of whom were voting for the first time, to managing contemporary elections for nearly a billion electors, the journey of the Election Commission mirrors the evolution of Indian democracy itself. Each election has reinforced the radical idea that legitimacy flows from the ballot, not from power imposed above.
With each passing decade, the scale of the Commission's task has grown more daunting. Logistics have become more complex, political competition more intense, and public expectations higher. Yet the Commission has repeatedly risen to these challenges, often under conditions that would test even the most sophisticated state machinery. Few anecdotes capture this institutional commitment more vividly than the now-iconic episode from Gujarat's Gir forest during the 2024 Lok Sabha elections. Determined that no citizen would be denied the right to vote, polling officials trekked deep into the last remaining natural habitat of the endangered Asiatic lion to set up a polling booth at Banej.
The purpose of this extraordinary effort was neither symbolic nor ceremonial; it was both practical and principled. Mahant Haridas Udaseen, the sole resident and therefore the sole voter of the area, was entitled to exercise his franchise. For the Election Commission, that entitlement was non-negotiable. In that solitary ballot lay the essence of Indian democracy: one person, one vote, regardless of remoteness, inconvenience, or cost. The episode distilled into a single image the philosophy that has guided the institution for decades.
Such stories are not exceptions but expressions of a deeply embedded institutional ethos. Whether in the icy heights of Ladakh, the dense forests of central India, or the far-flung island territories of Andaman and Nicobar and Lakshadweep, the Commission has consistently insisted that the Indian voter must never be too distant to matter. The result is the largest democratic exercise anywhere in the world, conducted with a regularity and credibility that many older democracies struggle to maintain. That elections of such magnitude are accepted by winners and losers alike speaks volumes about the Commission's legitimacy.
This record, however, has not been unblemished. Like all constitutional bodies, the Election Commission has functioned within the political currents of its time, sometimes buoyed by public trust and at other times buffeted by criticism. Its darkest chapter remains the Emergency of 1975-77, when democratic rights were suspended and institutional independence came under severe strain. Constrained by the prevailing political climate, the Commission could not entirely escape the shadow of that period. Yet the restoration of democracy and the conduct of free and fair elections in 1977 marked not only a national political reset but also a moment of institutional redemption.
In the decades that followed, the Election Commission steadily asserted its autonomy and authority, particularly through strong and assertive leadership. The tenure of the late T N Seshan in the early 1990s stands out as a watershed in the institution's history. With an uncompromising interpretation of the Constitution and election laws, Seshan transformed the Commission from a largely procedural body into a formidable constitutional guardian. He enforced the Model Code of Conduct with unprecedented rigour, curbed electoral malpractices, and injected a new sense of accountability into a political class long accustomed to bending the rules. His methods were often controversial, but their impact was unmistakable. Elections were no longer a formality; they became a process to be respected and, when necessary, feared.
Since that period, the Commission has continued to evolve, adapting to the changing contours of Indian society and politics. Technological innovation has become central to its functioning. The introduction of electronic voting machines, followed by voter-verified paper audit trails, reflects a conscious effort to balance efficiency, transparency, and trust. Extensive voter education campaigns have sought to deepen participation and awareness, recognising that democracy depends not only on access to the ballot but on informed engagement. These reforms illustrate an institution that understands the necessity of modernising without abandoning its foundational principles.
At the same time, the Election Commission has had to navigate an increasingly challenging environment. Political polarisation, the growing influence of money and media, and the pressures of constant public scrutiny pose complex dilemmas. Social media has transformed political communication, accelerating misinformation and intensifying electoral contestation. These challenges are not unique to India; election authorities across the world confront similar pressures. Yet the scale at which the Indian Commission operates magnifies every difficulty. Coordinating millions of polling personnel and security staff across 29 states and multiple Union Territories requires administrative precision of the highest order.
Today, from its headquarters at Nirvachan Sadan in New Delhi, the Election Commission presides over a polity representing nearly one-seventh of humanity. India's electorate is shaped by generational shifts, social transformations, and evolving aspirations. That such a vast and varied population continues to place its faith in the ballot is, in no small measure, a testament to the Commission's credibility. Each peaceful transfer of power reinforces the idea that political change in India is negotiated through institutions, not imposed through force.
Critics rightly point out that the Election Commission is not beyond reproach. Allegations of institutional pliancy, debates over its independence, and concerns about gaps in enforcement persist. These critiques deserve serious and sustained engagement, for the health of democracy depends as much on questioning its institutions as on celebrating them. Yet even these criticisms underscore a deeper truth: the Election Commission matters. It commands attention, scrutiny, and expectation precisely because it has become central to India's democratic life. Indifference would be far more damaging than dissent.
At seventy-seven, the Election Commission of India stands as one of the republic's most consequential yet understated achievements. It has overseen countless elections, facilitated peaceful transfers of power, and given practical meaning to the promise of universal adult franchise. In doing so, it has demonstrated that democracy need not be the preserve of the wealthy, the literate, or the homogeneous. Scale, diversity, and inclusion, often cited as obstacles, have instead become defining strengths of the Indian democratic experience.
In an era when democratic norms are under strain across the world, India's Election Commission offers a powerful reminder that faith in the voter, supported by a robust constitutional framework, can yield extraordinary results. What began in 1950 as a tentative experiment has matured into a living institution, one that continues to safeguard a simple yet radical idea: that every Indian counts and that the republic endures because the people remain at its centre.