The Decline of Parliamentary Functioning and Democracy

There are books that record an era, and then there are books that interrogate the future. Hiren Mukherjee’s Portrait of Parliament: Reflections and Recollections (1952–77) belongs to the latter category. Written by one of my favourite parliamentarians, the book is a meditation on what Parliament means to a democracy and what happens to a democracy when Parliament itself begins to forget what it is meant to be. Mukherjee sounded a warning that appears prophetic today: He lamented the growing “deterioration in parliamentary functioning” and cautioned that if Parliament failed to prize its own dignity, its powers, too, would be imperilled. At the time, many may have regarded it as the melancholic reflection of an old parliamentarian witnessing inevitable institutional change. Today, it reads more like a diagnosis. Parliament was conceived not as an appendage of executive authority but as the sovereign arena where the nation could converse with itself. The executive had to govern and Parliament had to hold power accountable. Increasingly, however, Parliament appears to be losing its deliberative soul. The first symptom of decay is the concentration of power within the executive. Parliamentary democracies function on the principle that governments derive legitimacy from legislatures and remain accountable to them. However, this relation has gradually become inverted. Parliament today often appears as an institution expected to ratify decisions already taken elsewhere. The Opposition, constitutionally intended to be a watchdog rather than an enemy, increasingly finds itself being treated as an inconvenience. But the health of a legislature is measured not by the comfort of the treasury benches but by the confidence with which dissent can be articulated. The second symptom is the decline of debate. Mukherjee belonged to a generation that regarded preparation for parliamentary intervention as an ethical responsibility. Disagreement could be sharp, even ideological. Opponents were challenged, but not dehumanised as has become the norm these days. Today, much of parliamentary communication is designed not for persuasion within the House but for circulation outside it. Speeches increasingly seek virality rather than illumination. The result is a paradox: Parliament is more visible than ever and yet less heard. The third symptom is the erosion of institutional memory. Parliament survives not merely through rules but through conventions — unwritten understandings that teach restraint to power and responsibility to the Opposition. Once these conventions weaken, the rulebook cannot save democratic culture. The tragedy of contemporary politics is that institutional continuity is often dismissed as elitism while disruption is celebrated as authenticity. When debate declines, politics does not become calmer; it becomes more polarised outside the institution. A fourth symptom is the diminishing role of parliamentary committees and other mechanisms of scrutiny. The committee system was designed to allow detailed examination away from the heat of partisan contestation. Representation has certainly deepened. But representation without deliberation is incomplete. Mukherjee defended a principle: The idea that democracy requires institutions capable of slowing down power and compelling it to explain itself. That principle is under strain now. When parliamentary sessions become shorter, when scrutiny becomes weaker, when disagreement is portrayed as obstruction, and when political majorities begin to confuse electoral victory with institutional entitlement, democracy loses one of its most vital safeguards. The true measure of Parliament is not how loudly the government speaks, but how fearlessly questions can be asked. It is not the speed with which legislation is passed, but the depth with which it is examined. It is not the size of a majority, but the space available for minorities. The question before us is not whether Parliament remains constitutionally supreme. The more troubling question is whether it still possesses the moral confidence to act as the nation’s conscience. Mukherjee’s Portrait of Parliament reminds us that democratic institutions rarely decay overnight. Their renewal, if political will still permits it, may also have to begin quietly with the recovery of a simple but profound belief: That Parliament is not an obstacle to governance. It is governance in its most democratic form. The writer is Member of Parliament ( Rajya Sabha ), Rashtriya Janata Dal