Shagun Parihar
writetomlakishtwar@gmail.com
The case for women’s reservation in India is often made in the lens of empowerment. It is often presented as a progressive measure to uplift women and correct historical injustice. While this argument is valid, it is also incomplete. The more compelling justification lies elsewhere: women’s reservation is not merely about empowering women; it is about repairing a structural weakness within Indian democracy itself.
A democracy derives its legitimacy not only from periodic elections but from the extent to which its institutions reflect the diversity of its people. By this measure, India’s record remains uneven. Women constitute nearly half the population, yet their representation in Parliament and State Assemblies continues to be disproportionately low. This gap is not just numerical; it is deeply political. It shapes whose voices are heard, which issues are prioritized, and how policies are framed.
Politics in India is not a passive mechanism of governance; it actively shapes social norms and public consciousness. Legislative spaces are where priorities are set and hierarchies are subtly reinforced. When these spaces are overwhelmingly male, the resulting policy framework-however well-meaning-inevitably reflects a narrower range of experiences. The absence of women is not always visible, but its consequences are.
It is in this context that the demand for a minimum of 33 per cent reservation in Parliament and State Assemblies acquires significance. The figure is not symbolic; it is functional. Political theory and global experience suggest that representation below a certain threshold tends to remain tokenistic. A critical mass often identified as around one-third is necessary for meaningful participation. It enables a shift from presence to influence, from visibility to voice.
India’s own experience at the grassroots level offers instructive lessons. The reservation of seats for women in Panchayati Raj institutions has led to a measurable change in governance priorities. Women representatives have been more likely to foreground issues such as drinking water, sanitation, education, and local welfare areas that are central to everyday life but often sidelined in conventional political discourse. These outcomes are not incidental; they reflect how representation shapes attention.
The argument that reservation undermines merit continues to surface in public debate. However, it rests on an assumption that the current system is meritocratic. In reality, access to political power in India is mediated by entrenched networks, financial resources, and social capital domains where women have historically been disadvantaged. What passes as merit is often the outcome of accumulated privilege. Reservation, in this sense, is less about preference and more about parity.
The democratic case for women’s reservation becomes sharper when viewed through the lens of regions like Jammu & Kashmir. In a region marked by political complexity and social sensitivity, inclusive representation is critical to building trust in institutions. The presence of women in the legislative sphere remains minimal-reportedly limited to around four members. Such underrepresentation cannot meaningfully capture the experiences or concerns of half the population.
In Jammu & Kashmir, governance is closely tied to questions of legitimacy, participation, and everyday stability. Women’s inclusion in legislative processes can broaden the scope of policy-making by bringing attention to issues that are often overlooked in high-level political negotiations. It can also contribute to a more dialogic political culture one that is essential in regions where governance must be both responsive and sensitive.
Importantly, women’s reservation should not be viewed as a substitute for broader social change. It cannot, on its own, dismantle the structural barriers that limit women’s participation in public life. However, it can create an enabling framework. By institutionalizing representation, it signals that inclusion is not optional but integral to democratic functioning.
There is also a long-term cultural effect to consider. The presence of more women in legislative bodies can gradually reshape public perceptions about leadership and authority. It can challenge the deeply embedded notion that politics is a male domain and encourage greater participation of women across sectors. Representation, in this sense, has both immediate and generational implications.
Democracies evolve through such corrective measures. The expansion of the franchise, the introduction of affirmative action, and the decentralization of power were all responses to structural imbalances. Women’s reservation belongs to this lineage. It is not an exception to democratic principles but an extension of them.
The recent legislative push for women’s reservation marks an important step. However, its significance will ultimately depend on how it is implemented. Political parties will play a decisive role in determining whether reservation translates into meaningful participation or remains a formal compliance. Candidate selection, internal party democracy, and institutional support will all shape the outcome.
The question, therefore, is not whether women need reservation to prove their capability. Their contributions across fields have already answered that. The real question is whether Indian democracy is willing to address its own representational deficit. Women’s reservation is not a concession to women; it is a commitment to democracy. By ensuring a more balanced presence in legislative institutions, it strengthens not only inclusiveness but also the quality of governance. A democracy that listens to all its citizens is not just more just it is more effective. And that, ultimately, is the measure that matters.
(The writer is MLA from Kishtwar constituency J&K Legislative Assembly)
