Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam: From the shadows to the centre stage

The Union government’s move to convene a special session of Parliament in mid-April to consider measures for operationalising the Nari Shakti Vandan Adhiniyam signals a decisive shift in India’s democratic journey, from intent to execution.

The 2023 law was a landmark, providing for 33% reservation for women in the Lok Sabha and State Assemblies, including within Scheduled Caste and Scheduled Tribe quotas. Yet, it also carried an inbuilt delay: implementation was linked to the next Census and the subsequent delimitation exercise. Given that delimitation has been constitutionally frozen until after 2026, this effectively pushed the reform into the next decade.

What the upcoming session appears set to do is address precisely this gap. By exploring ways to advance delimitation and delink implementation from a distant Census timeline, the government is attempting to convert a historic promise into a near-term political reality—potentially aligning it with the 2029 general elections. If accompanied by an expansion in the number of seats, this approach also reflects political pragmatism: enabling women’s entry into legislatures without triggering zero-sum resistance.


If carried through, this will not merely be a legislative adjustment. It will mark one of the most consequential democratic reforms since the decentralisation push of the 1990s. These changes will finally give the Indian women her rightful place in the power equations of our country. For long she has been in the shadows of political power and these changes will bring her to the centre stage.

India’s democratic foundations were, from the outset, unusually progressive. The Constitution of India granted universal adult franchise at birth—decades ahead of many Western democracies. Yet, for much of independent India’s history, women’s political participation remained mediated and unequal.

In the early decades, women often entered electoral rolls as “wife of X” or “daughter of Y”, their political identity subsumed within the household. Representation was minimal. Even the rise of Indira Gandhi, while symbolically significant, did not immediately translate into widespread female political agency.

A structural shift came with the 73rd and 74th Constitutional Amendments, which mandated one-third reservation for women in local bodies. This reform brought millions of women into governance. While proxy politics—captured in phrases like “sarpanch pati”—was a reality, it obscured a deeper transformation: the emergence of first-generation women leaders across rural India. By the turn of the century women had transitioned from passive voters to visible political actors.

Few states illustrate this transformation as vividly as Bihar. Through initiatives like 50% reservation for women in Panchayati Raj institutions and the scaling of self-help group networks under JEEViKA, Bihar created one of the largest grassroots platforms for women’s leadership in the country. Millions of women, many from historically marginalised communities, entered public life—often for the first time.

This social mobilisation translated into political influence. Policies such as prohibition were widely interpreted as responses to women’s collective political voice. Women voters in Bihar today turn out in equal or higher numbers than men, and increasingly vote as an independent constituency rather than as extensions of household preferences.

India has moved from an 11-percentage-point gender gap in voter turnout in 1967 to parity—and even reversal. In the 2024 general election, women’s turnout (around 65.8%) marginally exceeded that of men (65.6%). In several state elections – Assam, Tamil Nadu, Odisha etc over the past decade, women have consistently outvoted men.

This has reshaped electoral politics. Women are no longer a passive category but a decisive electoral force. Governments—particularly under Narendra Modi—have recognised and responded to this shift through targeted interventions: Financial inclusion and direct benefit transfers; welfare schemes such as LPG connections and housing; support for girl child education and savings. These measures have had a compounding effect: by reducing dependence on intermediaries, they have strengthened women’s economic and political autonomy.

Women today vote as much as men—sometimes more—but occupy only around 14–15% of seats in Parliament, with candidate selection still overwhelmingly male-dominated. This disconnect between participation and representation is the central democratic deficit the reservation framework seeks to address. There are other structural barriers for instance, men still control the campaign finances. There are obvious social constraints such as the need for a woman political player to balance domestic responsibilities. Another issue women face is linked to her personal safety.

The operationalisation of the women’s reservation law can fundamentally alter this equation.

First, it will create a critical mass of women legislators, moving beyond token representation. Second, it will establish a pipeline of leadership, linking grassroots participation to state and national politics. Third, it has the potential to reshape political priorities—bringing greater focus to health, education, welfare delivery, and social infrastructure.

Equally important, it may gradually transform political culture itself: from adversarial mobilisation to more grounded, community-oriented engagement.

The 2023 law created the constitutional framework. The forthcoming reforms seek to build the institutional pathway.

This moment reflects a broader governance approach—one that combines social policy, political reform, and administrative execution. From financial inclusion to welfare delivery to now political representation, the arc of reform has consistently moved towards expanding women’s agency.

If Parliament succeeds in advancing implementation, India will have achieved something rare: aligning political representation with social reality. Indian women have already demonstrated their democratic maturity at the ballot box. It is now for the political system to match that maturity in its structures of power.

The journey from participation to power is nearly complete. What remains is the final step—and the present moment offers the opportunity to take it.

The author is General Secretary, BJP Mahila Morcha (Delhi Pradesh). Bhardwaj is a social activist. She runs Sangini Saheli, a not-for-profit organisation focused on women empowerment.