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21 August 2024 at 10:20:16 am

Thirsty Metropolis

Barely a year after torrential rains submerged large parts of Mumbai’s, the city’s water sources have fallen to critical levels and water rationing has returned. This year, a bad monsoon has led to Mumbai’s reservoirs falling to barely 9 percent of its capacity, forcing water cuts across India’s financial capital. The Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) has halted supplies to construction sites and swimming pools, and tightened restrictions on commercial users. Predictably, the...

Thirsty Metropolis

Barely a year after torrential rains submerged large parts of Mumbai’s, the city’s water sources have fallen to critical levels and water rationing has returned. This year, a bad monsoon has led to Mumbai’s reservoirs falling to barely 9 percent of its capacity, forcing water cuts across India’s financial capital. The Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation (BMC) has halted supplies to construction sites and swimming pools, and tightened restrictions on commercial users. Predictably, the politicians blame a delayed monsoon. But blaming the weather alone is convenient and wrong. Mumbai’s water woes are not merely a meteorological problem but the result of decades of political complacency and administrative neglect. Mumbai receives roughly 2,000 mm of rainfall annually. Few global cities are blessed with such abundance. Yet, every year the city oscillates between flooding and scarcity, unable to capture excess water when the skies open and unable to conserve enough when they do not. Mumbai consumes around 4,000 million litres of water daily. More than 900 million litres of treated water reportedly disappear through leakages and illegal connections every day. Non-revenue water losses have climbed above 30 percent, substantially higher than they were fifteen years ago. In other words, the city loses more water through inefficiency than the size of its official supply deficit. Instead, successive administrations have preferred to search for another reservoir farther away. From Vihar in the nineteenth century to Tulsi, Tansa and eventually the Vaitarna system, the city’s answer to rising demand has always been to extend its hydraulic empire.
Such an approach may have worked when Mumbai was smaller. Today, it looks increasingly fragile in an era of climate volatility as a weak monsoon now threatens millions. Meanwhile, local water sources have been allowed to decay. The Mithi River, once a functioning ecosystem, has become an open drain carrying untreated sewage and industrial waste. Wetlands that naturally stored and filtered water have steadily shrunk under developmental pressure. Wells and ponds that historically provided resilience have largely disappeared from public policy. The tragedy is that Mumbai possesses solutions that it refuses to deploy at scale. Rainwater harvesting has been mandatory for many buildings for more than two decades. Yet enforcement remains patchy enough for corporators to demand audits of compliance. Wastewater reuse offers another missed opportunity. Mumbai treats only a fraction of the sewage it generates. The city that pioneered industrial water recycling in India during the 1960s has somehow failed to make reuse central to its twenty-first-century water strategy. India’s financial capital cannot continue treating every dry spell as an unforeseen emergency. Climate change will make rainfall even more erratic in future. In truth, Mumbai does not suffer from a lack of water. It suffers from a lack of imagination. Until politicians focus less on announcing new projects and more on reviving wetlands, harvesting rain and recycling wastewater, every monsoon will remain a gamble.

Betraying the Ballot

 The recent split within the Uddhav Thackeray-led Shiv Sena marks a critical turning point in Maharashtra politics. With six rebel Members of Parliament (MPs) set to merge into the Eknath Shinde-led faction, the Shinde group’s Lok Sabha strength will rise to 13. While the BJP holds nine MPs, this shift significantly enhances the Shinde faction's independent political clout. Although the BJP maintains undisputed dominance in the State Legislative Assembly, these altering equations at the Centre could create a tight spot for the party locally. Yet, this regional fallout is part of a broader, more alarming trend. Defection is neither new nor rare in India, but the rapid, successive splits witnessed across multiple regional parties over the past few months strike at the very core of the nation’s political culture.


Regional Parties Targeted

This wave of fragmentation highlights a systematic targeting of regional forces. In April, seven Rajya Sabha MPs from the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) formed a separate faction before merging into the BJP. Following a crushing defeat in the May West Bengal Assembly elections, the Trinamool Congress (TMC) was struck by a wave of defections as 60 MLAs broke away. This trend quickly spread to Delhi, where 20 TMC MPs formed a separate faction, ultimately aligning with the BJP via the Nationalist Citizens Party of India. Now, with the Shiv Sena splintering and leaders like Deputy Chief Minister Om Prakash Rajbhar predicting an impending split within Uttar Pradesh's Samajwadi Party (SP), a clear pattern emerges: the affected entities are all regional parties serving as the principal opposition to the BJP in their respective states. Consequently, weakening these regional strongholds appears to be a primary strategic objective for the ruling dispensation, serving a larger national agenda to consolidate power at the Centre.


While the leadership failures of figures like Arvind Kejriwal, Mamata Banerjee, and Uddhav Thackeray undoubtedly fractured their respective parties, reducing these splits to mere ‘leadership style’ oversimplifies a structural phenomenon. Maintaining cohesion is always a litmus test for leadership, but these rifts spiked precisely while these parties were out of power, mirroring the Shiv Sena split during the Maha Vikas Aghadi’s stint in the opposition. Rather than attributing these shifts strictly to internal friction, these fractures must be analysed through three systemic lenses: the BJP’s aggressive legislative ambitions, the erosion of ideological commitment within regional parties, and the structural failure of the Anti-Defection Law.


Aggressive Manoeuvring

First, the BJP’s aggressive manoeuvring appears driven by a desire to secure the parliamentary numbers required for major constitutional amendments. Previously, a unified opposition bloc left the government short of the two-thirds majority needed to pass landmark structural reforms, such as the constituency-redrawing delimitation bill. Contentious initiatives like ‘One Nation, One Election’ remain stalled by this high legislative threshold. Following the political fallout in Tamil Nadu, where the DMK exited the I.N.D.I.A. bloc after Congress backed a TVK government, the BJP aims to engineer a highly favourable political arithmetic by absorbing dissident factions from the TMC, Shiv Sena, and potentially the SP, or even co-opting the entire DMK bloc.


This raises vital questions: Is the ruling party rushing to push through critical legislation out of fear that it won’t secure an absolute majority in future Lok Sabha elections? Manufacturing a majority through engineered splits and artificial alliances undermines the democratic mandate.


These wholesale defections signal a dangerous decline in ideological commitment. Unlike historic pre-election coalitions like the Janata Party, the national Democratic Alliance (NDA), or the United Progressive Alliance (UPA), which were bound by ‘Common Minimum Programme,’ today’s defectors abandon their principles post-election under the vague pretext of ‘development’ simply to align with the ruling party. A healthy democracy requires rival parties to offer distinct visions for the nation, competing on structural policies rather than infrastructure alone. When TMC or AAP dissidents overnight join or align with the very BJP they campaigned against, genuine ideological debate vanishes, sacrificing long-term democratic health for short-term political opportunism.


Longstanding Deficiencies

This crisis exposes the longstanding inadequacies of India’s Anti-Defection Law and the broader challenge of preserving political morality in a parliamentary democracy. The problem of defections is not new. The phenomenon became synonymous with the phrase ‘Aaya Ram, Gaya Ram,’ coined after Haryana legislator Gaya Lal reportedly changed political allegiance multiple times within a single day. As early as 1967, a committee chaired by Y. B. Chavan thoroughly examined the defection issue and submitted its report to Parliament in 1969. The report revealed that as many as 438 instances of defection had occurred in a single year alone; furthermore, out of 210 defections across just seven states in North India, 116 defectors were rewarded with ministerial positions. Subsequently, constitutional amendment bills were introduced in 1973 and 1978 to enact anti-defection laws, but they failed to materialize into law.


Legislative action came only years later through the 52nd Constitutional Amendment Act of 1985, which inserted the Tenth Schedule into the Constitution. The law sought to establish legal guardrails against political defections by disqualifying legislators who voluntarily gave up membership of their political party or violated the party whip on crucial votes. However, the original framework contained a significant loophole by permitting splits involving one-third of a party’s legislators. To address this weakness, the 91st Constitutional Amendment Act of 2003 raised the threshold to two-thirds of a party’s legislative strength.


The contemporary political landscape demonstrates that these reforms have not fully achieved their objective. Rather than preventing defections, the law has incentivized politicians to engineer large-scale defections that satisfy the two-thirds requirement and therefore remain legally protected. Individual acts of party-switching have increasingly been replaced by wholesale defections. Constitutional safeguards intended to preserve political stability have often become tools for legitimizing political opportunism.


To restore the integrity of India’s parliamentary democracy, the anti-defection law must be reoriented to protect the mandate of the electorate rather than merely regulate legislative arithmetic.


While prudent political leadership must take the initiative to close these structural vulnerabilities, the ultimate safeguard lies with the people. If the state fails to reform itself, a vigilant and mature electorate must use the power of the vote to deliver a swift, punishing response to political opportunism.


(The writer is a political commentator. Views personal.)

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