Open Letter: Dear Prakash Raj, Suspicion Is Not Evidence

You have raised a perfectly legitimate question: how does one protect the right of every genuine citizen to vote?

The trouble begins when a legitimate question is followed by an illegitimate conclusion.

You appear to suggest that checking the voters’ list is somehow an assault on democracy. That is a little like saying that counting the family silver is an insult to the family.

A voters’ list, after all, is not a family heirloom.

People are born, turn 18, die, marry, migrate, change houses and occasionally manage to acquire more than one entry in official records. Governments therefore have the rather boring duty of keeping their records up to date.

Boring, perhaps.

Undemocratic, certainly not.

You yourself have made the perfectly sensible point that new voters should be added, the names of the dead removed and addresses changed when people move.

Quite right.

But if that is the case, what exactly is the objection to revising the electoral rolls?

The objection, I presume, is not to revision but to wrongful revision.

That is a different matter altogether.

If a genuine voter has been removed, produce the name.

If an eligible citizen has been excluded, show us the case.

If an official has acted illegally, establish it.

If the Election Commission has behaved improperly, document it.

There is no shortage of television studios, microphones or lawyers in India. Evidence should not be difficult to find.

But saying “I have doubts” does not magically turn a doubt into a fact.

This distinction matters.

Otherwise every locked door becomes evidence of a burglary, every policeman becomes a potential criminal and every government file becomes proof of a conspiracy.

That may make for excellent television.

It makes for rather poor constitutional reasoning.

You have also invoked Ambedkar and the Constitution in defence of the voter’s right.

Quite rightly.

But the Constitution protects the right of an eligible citizen to vote. It does not confer voting rights upon people who are dead, duplicated in the rolls or otherwise ineligible.

The dead, I suspect, have enough problems of their own without being dragged into our elections.

There is also the matter of voter turnout.

You point out that sometimes only 50 or 60 per cent of voters actually vote. Again, true enough.

But a citizen who does not vote is not necessarily a citizen who was prevented from voting.

Some are busy.

Some are travelling.

Some are disillusioned.

Some simply prefer cricket, cinema or an afternoon nap.

Democracy gives them the right to vote. It does not send a constable to drag them to the polling booth.

Low turnout and inaccurate electoral rolls are two entirely different problems. Mixing them together does not make either problem easier to solve.

Then comes the Election Commission.

Its independence should certainly be examined. No institution dealing with something as important as elections should be beyond scrutiny.

But scrutiny requires evidence.

If there is partisan conduct, show it.

If there is manipulation, prove it.

If a procedure violates the Constitution, challenge it.

But suspicion, however passionately expressed, remains suspicion.

The same applies to your concerns about legal protection for election officials. Examine the law. Debate it. Challenge it if necessary.

But the existence of a legal safeguard is not, by itself, evidence that somebody is preparing to steal an election.

A fire extinguisher does not prove that the house is burning.

The larger point is almost painfully simple.

A democracy needs voters.

It also needs an accurate voters’ list.

These are not opposing ideas.

They are two halves of the same idea.

If a genuine voter is wrongly struck off, put him back.

If an eligible citizen has been left out, enrol him.

If the Election Commission makes a mistake, hold it accountable.

But if a dead person remains on the rolls, removing the name does not disenfranchise him. He has, regrettably, already left the electorate.

So, Mr Raj, perhaps the SIR debate needs a little less thunder and a little more arithmetic.

Ask four simple questions:

Who was removed?

Why was the person removed?

Was the person eligible?

Was due process followed?

These questions may lack the romance of declaring democracy in mortal danger. But they have one great virtue: they can be answered.

And answers require evidence.

Suspicion may start a debate.

It should not end one.

After all, democracy deserves better than a verdict delivered before the evidence has arrived.