A choice before India: Rule of law or rule of chaos?

Street pressure versus constitutional authority
India stands at a decisive crossroads. As political contestation increasingly spills beyond Parliament into street pressure and institutional defiance, the debate is no longer about ideology but order itself. This op-ed examines the growing tension between constitutional authority and political disruption—and why the choice will define India’s democratic future.
When opposition parties repeatedly stalled Parliament, many observers initially dismissed it as political theatrics—an attempt to mask their uninterrupted electoral decline since 2014 and their inability to arrest the BJP’s political rise. The disruption was seen less as principled resistance and more as performative outrage from parties struggling to recalibrate in a changed political landscape.
This perception persisted even as the BJP accused the Congress-led INDIA bloc of being influenced by foreign funding and interests, particularly those linked to billionaire George Soros and his Open Society Foundations. BJP leaders went so far as to allege that Soros-linked entities and foreign money were deployed to influence India’s 2024 Lok Sabha elections and shape political narratives. The opposition and the Congress vehemently denied these claims, calling them baseless and politically motivated. It must be noted that these allegations, though repeatedly raised as part of the BJP’s political narrative, remain contested and unproven in any court of law.
Even opposition warnings that India could descend into chaos like in Sri Lanka, or mirror instability in Bangladesh and Nepal, were largely interpreted as exaggerated metaphors rather than serious institutional alarms.
That complacency shattered with the shocking and unprecedented conduct of West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee.
Her direct and physical intervention during Enforcement Directorate raids—entering search sites, confronting officers, and taking custody of seized documents—marks a moment of grave constitutional rupture. Never in the history of independent India has a sitting Chief Minister so brazenly obstructed a central investigating agency amid a legally sanctioned operation. This was not a protest. It was not dissent. It was executive defiance of the rule of law.
The confrontation, widely described by critics as an unusually direct clash between a state executive head and a central enforcement agency, is dangerous on multiple counts. First, it sets a perilous precedent for India’s federal structure. Cooperative federalism cannot survive if it degenerates into competitive obstruction, where states selectively decide which Union laws they will obey. Second, it normalises the idea that political power can override legal process—a notion fatal to constitutional governance.
The ED raids in question were not arbitrary. They were conducted pursuant to court directions and are linked to a long-running investigation into alleged money laundering arising from the West Bengal coal scam. The case, originating from a complaint by Eastern Coalfields Limited’s vigilance wing in November 2020, involves alleged illegal mining and pilferage of coal from ECL leasehold areas in Paschim Bardhaman district, unauthorised transportation and black-market sale of coal, evasion of accounting norms, and massive losses to the public exchequer running into hundreds of crores of rupees.
The Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) has already outlined the contours of this alleged racket. The ED’s role, under the Prevention of Money Laundering Act, is to trace and attach the proceeds of crime. The agency searched the Kolkata office of political consultancy I-PAC and the residence of its director Pratik Jain as part of this probe a few days back. Some reports suggest investigators are examining whether proceeds of the coal scam were diverted into political activities, including election-related work. The ED has maintained that the searches were evidence-driven and not politically motivated.
Against this backdrop, the Chief Minister’s conduct becomes even more indefensible. A sitting CM physically intervening in an ongoing investigation, directing state police, and removing seized material amounts to obstruction of justice and potentially contempt of court. It creates a direct constitutional collision between the Centre and the state.
Article 256 of the Constitution is unequivocal: states must ensure compliance with Union laws. Investigative agencies function independently of political office. This principle exists precisely to prevent the abuse of executive power. Actions like Mamata Banerjee’s are institutionally dangerous regardless of the political justification offered.
The most troubling question remains unanswered: if there was nothing incriminating in the seized documents, why resort to such panic-driven intervention? The Chief Minister had every lawful remedy available, approaching the High Court or the Supreme Court, seeking a stay, or challenging the probe on legal grounds. Does she lack faith in the judiciary? Or was the fear that judicial scrutiny would not yield the outcome she desired?
Indian courts have repeatedly held that political office does not confer immunity from investigation. Yet instead of respecting this settled principle, the Chief Minister chose confrontation. What does this street-level theatrics by a constitutional authority indicate, if not panic?
This episode is also a litmus test for the Union government, which repeatedly claims moral superiority and constitutional fidelity. Either the law applies equally to all, or it does not. If a Chief Minister can obstruct central agencies with impunity, then the Bharatiya Nyaya Samhita may as well be amended to legalise lawlessness. Why insist on helmets and seat belts? Why penalise traffic violations? Why stop mobs from barging into police stations to “supervise” investigations?
Defending the indefensible, sections of the opposition ecosystem are now portraying Mamata Banerjee’s actions as justified resistance. This is nothing short of advocating anarchy. Contrast this with the arrest of Delhi Chief Minister Arvind Kejriwal in March 2024 in the liquor policy case. He did not attempt to stop ED operations; he submitted to the legal process, secured bail, and fought his case in court. That is how constitutional democracy functions.
Even if one concedes that governments—of all political hues—have at times misused investigative agencies, such misuse cannot justify executive obstruction. In the past, ED raids have taken place in West Bengal, Rajasthan and other states without any Chief Minister physically interfering. What happened this time is without precedent.
Equally disturbing is the selective constitutional outrage of opposition parties that routinely wrap themselves in the Constitution while justifying its violation when politically convenient. If they cannot condemn Banerjee’s conduct unequivocally, they forfeit the moral right to speak of “Constitution Bachao” campaigns.
This confrontational disdain for institutions is not confined to West Bengal. In Tamil Nadu, we have seen state defiance of court orders on the pretext of “ground reality,” accompanied by threats of impeachment against judges. In Andhra Pradesh, bizarre assertions that the Constitution does not recognise a capital city and that wherever the Chief Minister sits becomes the capital reflect a cavalier attitude towards constitutional norms. Such thinking frightens investors, stalls growth, and condemns states to stagnation.
Even the misuse of public funds—whether through preferential government advertising to party-linked media outlets in Karnataka or Andhra Pradesh—indicates a deeper rot: the normalisation of institutional capture.
India’s democracy cannot survive on selective obedience to law. Political hatred for Modi, the BJP, or Amit Shah does not grant any party the license to trample the Constitution. If this trajectory continues unchecked, the slide from protest to paralysis, and from dissent to disorder, will only accelerate.
The message must be unambiguous: no one is above the law—not even a Chief Minister. The courts must act swiftly in cases of executive defiance. The Union government must move beyond rhetoric and enforce constitutional discipline. And voters must recognise that anarchy dressed up as resistance is still anarchy.
Jago Nagarik Jago. The choice before India is stark: rule of law or rule of chaos.
(The author is former Chief Editor of The Hans India)

