A conscious reaffirmation

The Supreme Court’s recent verdict on the presidential reference concerning governors’ powers over state Bills goes well beyond procedural tidying. It strikes at the core of India’s federal structure, the limits of constitutional discretion, and the demands of democratic accountability. In a unanimous opinion by a five-judge Constitution Bench led by Chief Justice B. R. Gavai, the Court declined to impose fixed timelines on governors or the President for granting assent, yet warned that “indefinite inaction” is impermissible.

The ruling thus attempts a careful recalibration – protecting the Constitution’s intended flexibility while recognising how that flexibility can be misused in today’s polarised political environment. The bench’s central task was to settle a deepening conflict: can unelected constitutional functionaries appointed by the Union delay or obstruct legislation passed by democratically elected state governments? Article 200 permits a governor to assent to a Bill, return it with comments, or reserve it for the President. But opposition-led states argue that these powers have been routinely weaponised, with governors sitting on Bills for months or years, turning delay into a de facto pocket veto never intended by the framers. Earlier this year, a two-judge Supreme Court bench sought to curb such delays by imposing binding deadlines – three months for governors to act, and firm timelines even for re-enacted Bills.

Advertisement

Many state governments hailed the ruling as a long-overdue check on what they saw as partisan obstruction by Raj Bhavans. The Union government, however, viewed it as a judicial encroachment. President Droupadi Murmu then invoked the rarely used Article 143(1), referring fourteen constitutional questions to t h e Court in what was widely seen as an attempt to secure a reversal or dilution of the earlier ruling. The new five-judge bench declined to endorse fixed timelines. It refused to read into the Constitution deadlines that the text does not contain, stressing that the framers intentionally built “elasticity” into the roles of Governor and President.

Imposing rigid clocks, t h e Court warned, would erode that design. It reaffirmed that once a Bill reaches Raj Bhavan, the governor’s options under Article 200 remain substantive: assent, return, or reserve for the President. What a governor cannot do is sit on a Bill indefinitely. The first provision to Article 200 requires that a Bill be returned to the legislature if assent is withheld – an obligation the Court noted has often been ignored. Yet even as it condemned perpetual silence, the Court refused to replace it with judicially crafted timelines. Instead, it outlined a narrow oversight tool: a “limited mandamus.” Courts may intervene when a governor’s delay becomes “prolonged, unexplained and indefinite,” but may only direct a decision within a “reasonable period.”

They cannot dictate the outcome or review its merits. The judiciary, the Court warned, cannot use delays to slip into the executive’s domain. Equally significant is the Court’s categorical rejection of “deemed assent,” the idea that a Bill pending too long should be treated as automatically approved. The bench held that such a doctrine would violate the separation of powers by allowing the judiciary to confer assent on the executive’s behalf. The President’s powers received similar clarification. For Bills reserved under Article 201, the Court held that the President cannot be bound by judicial timelines nor required to refer every such Bill to the Supreme Court. These provisions, it said, were designed to allow “breathing space” for complex deliberations.

At the same time, an unexplained delay could still invite scrutiny, though the Court left the exact threshold undefined. What emerges is a coherent, if contentious, reaffirmation of constitutional discretion. Governors must act responsibly, not obstructively; they are expected to engage in a constitutional dialogue with state legislatures, and prolonged inaction can trigger judicial nudging. Yet discretion remains a structural feature of Indian federalism, not an aberration to be judicially redesigned. The political consequences are immediate. For opposition-ruled states, the absence of fixed deadlines is a setback. While governors cannot sit on Bills indefinitely, they retain room to delay action so long as it is not blatantly unreasonable.

This restores leverage to Raj Bhavans, particularly in states where the governor and elected government are politically opposed. For the Union government, the judgment is reassuring: it revives broad discretion and preserves significant executive manoeuvrability. The ruling also reopens debate on the institutional character of the Governor’s office. Critics argue that without enforceable timelines, governors may again impede state legislatures. Supporters counter that discretion is constitutionally intended and not something courts can restructure through deadlines. The verdict further underscores the limits of judicial review. Courts cannot judge the substantive correctness of a governor’s decision; they can only ensure that constitutional processes are not hollowed out by inertia.

The doctrine of limited mandamus thus serves as both safeguard and constraint – preventing paralysis while avoiding judicial intrusion into executive prerogatives. But this narrow remedy may create new uncertainties. What counts as “reasonable time”? How will courts assess “prolonged” or “unexplained” delay? Without clear benchmarks, litigation is likely, and standards will evolve case by case. Until then, ambiguity persists. The route this case took amplifies its political charge. The presidential reference was an unusual move to counter the April ruling. The Court, however, remained cautious, emphasising that an Article 143 reference is advisory and cannot reopen or overturn a binding judgment under Article 141. By answering only the President’s specific questions and refusing to treat the reference as a disguised appeal, the Court reinforced institutional boundaries.

The verdict also reignites broader questions about whether India’s Constitution needs reform to manage contemporary Centre-state tensions. Should governors face clearer accountability norms? Can long-eroded constitutional conventions be revived to strengthen cooperative federalism? And can political culture – more than judicial directives – produce the stable norms needed to prevent Raj Bhavans from becoming veto points? Ultimately, the judgment exposes a familiar paradox in India’s constitutional scheme. Unelected constitutional authorities hold considerable power, yet democratic legitimacy demands that this power be exercised with restraint.

The Court has reaffirmed discretion without ruling out accountability. How this balance plays out will now be tested across states. For now, the opinion is a cautious reaffirmation of constitutional architecture rather than a transformative shift. It preserves the dignity of the Governor’s office while warning that inaction cannot be allowed to derail legislative processes. Whether this recalibration fosters cooperative federalism or fuels renewed confrontation will depend less on doctrine than on the conduct of governors, the assertiveness of state governments, and the resilience of India’s federal ethos.

(THE WRITER IS AN AUTHOR, POLITICAL ANALYST AND COLUMNIST.)