By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
How Centralization Is Undermining
Federalism and National Unity in India
The BJP’s impatience
with the federal principle has left India without a credible mediator at this
crucial juncture. With the fissures that have already taken root, there are few
incentives for states or for the central government to advance a meaningful set
of reforms. Instead, a fractious federal politics is likely to define India
through the next decade—and likely to undermine India’s economic aspirations.
Perhaps even more significant, however, it may weaken the very glue that first
bound the country together and made its democracy such a unique experiment—one
that showed the world how plural identities could be held together within the
ambit of a nation-state.
While attending a
wedding in March, M. K. Stalin, the chief minister of India’s fastest-growing
state, Tamil Nadu, made a peculiar request: “Earlier we used to say, take your
time and have a baby. However, the situation has now changed. I urge newlyweds to
immediately have babies.” In the world’s most populous country, such a remark
might seem absurd; for much of independent India’s history, the policy
imperative, after all, has been population control rather than population
growth. But Stalin’s statement had little to do with population policy. It had
to do with political power.
India’s constitution
mandates that parliamentary seats be reapportioned after every census, which
normally happens every ten years. But this process, called “delimitation,” has
not taken place since 1973, meaning the allocation of India’s parliamentary seats
today is based on numbers gathered in the 1971 census. In 1976, a
constitutional amendment suspended the delimitation process, forbidding any
revision in the number of parliamentary seats until after the 2001 census. In
2002, Parliament extended this suspension of delimitation again, postponing it
until after 2026. Both in 1976 and 2002, the freeze originated from fear that
disparities in India’s demographics—with populations in richer, southern states
on track to stabilize much faster than poorer and more populous northern
states—would alter the balance of power in the country. The stated intent was
to avoid penalizing states for their economic progress and lower birth rates.
Given more time, the thinking went, the rest of the country would catch up to the
development progress of the South.
But rather than
closing, the gap between the economic and the population growth rates of
northern and southern states has widened dramatically. The northern state of
Uttar Pradesh, for example, had a population just over double that of Tamil
Nadu in 1971; today, it is estimated to be three times as large. The fertility
rate in Tamil Nadu is now below the targeted replacement rate of roughly 2.1
births per woman, while that in Uttar Pradesh, though declining, remains much
above it. This divergence could have significant
consequences for political representation. A widely cited 2019 study by
scholars Milan Vaishnav and Jamie Hintson predicted that if delimitation
happens after 2026, as it’s currently set to be, Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, two
north Indian states, would together gain as many as 21 seats, while Tamil Nadu
and Kerala, two southern states, could lose a combined 16 seats. Without
delimitation, Uttar Pradesh would be left with at least 11 fewer seats than its
population would in theory command.
After the census
scheduled for 2021 was inexplicably postponed, in June 2025 the central
government announced that a fresh census would be conducted in March 2027,
making it possible for India to reapportion parliamentary seats ahead of the
next general election, scheduled for 2029. The stakes of such a change for
India’s political parties are high. The country’s most dominant party, the Bharatiya Janata Party,
has a strong core of support in the more populous north but has struggled to
gain a foothold in southern states, especially in Tamil Nadu, where regional
parties dominate. If these southern states lost seats, the BJP would have an
easier time winning or cobbling together majorities in Parliament. Thus, in
calling for Tamilians to have more babies, Stalin, who leads the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam and is an
important figure within the national alliance of opposition parties known as
INDIA, was drawing political battle lines.
The tensions
surrounding delimitation extend far beyond the electoral realm—they reflect a
broader erosion of Indian federalism. The widening socioeconomic gaps among
states and the BJP’s ideological project are putting new pressures on the
federal bargain on which India’s democracy is based. Without an appropriate
resolution to these challenges, a more fractious federal politics will take
hold in India, hindering economic progress and, more significantly, curtailing
hard-won democratic freedoms.
Federalist Founding
India is a
continent of country home to a vast and diverse population with many
languages—the government recognizes 22 officially—religions, and ethnicities.
During India’s independence movement and post-independence nation-building,
preserving this diversity within the confines of a single nation-state was a
difficult but essential political project.
After winning independence in 1947, India’s founders
designed a federal system that enshrined a unique model of nationalism. The
country became what scholars Alfred Stepan, Juan Linz, and Yogendra Yadav call
a “state-nation,” where the state grants its disparate regions degrees of
autonomy to protect their socio-cultural identities and hold them together
through a sense of national belonging from the top down. Power in this system
is still skewed toward New Delhi, because a strong central government was
considered essential to achieving national social and economic goals. The
central government had the power to redraw state boundaries, for example,
precisely so that it could accommodate this cultural and ethnic diversity. At
critical junctures in independent India’s history, the union government has
deployed these powers to strengthen the project of nation-building. In the
1950s, for example, the central government redrew
the country’s colonial boundaries along linguistic lines in response to
language-based political mobilization that sometimes turned violent. In this
way, India could give subnational, identity-based political groups more
representation within the boundaries of the nation-state. The Indian
constitution also allowed for asymmetric federal arrangements that granted
greater degrees of autonomy to certain regions, including the Muslim-majority
state of Jammu and Kashmir and parts of
the hilly and ethnically diverse northeast of India. This “state-nation” form
of federalism became the glue that held the continental country—and its
democracy—together.
Fiscal and
administrative structures also skewed toward the center, so that the Indian
government and the states could cooperate and hold each other accountable
through a common federal system. Equity in public services was the binding
principle guiding this power-sharing. The center, for example, has the power to
collect taxes, but it follows a formula, determined by a constitutionally
mandated finance commission, to redistribute the revenue to states.
B. R. Ambedkar, the architect of the Indian
constitution, described the document as both “unitary and federal, according to
the requirements of time and circumstances.” But in practice, India developed a
political culture that was only narrowly and instrumentally committed to the
federal principle. Over the years, the center routinely misused its
constitutional powers over states. This was most visible when the ruling Congress Party became functionally authoritarian
during a period of “emergency rule” from 1975 to 1977, under Prime Minister
Indira Gandhi. It drew on these powers to weaken state governments and impose
its national agenda through fiscal centralization.
In the 1990s, as the
Congress Party weakened, regional, identity-based parties began to play a
significant role in national politics. They joined coalition governments with
national parties and other regional parties, breaking the unitary impulses that
Congress’s dominance had fed.
This recalibration,
however, did not mean that India’s political culture became one of collective
bargaining for states’ rights. India’s centralized federal design—consisting of
dispute resolution institutions, the appointment of governors by the central
government, and fiscal institutions—needed real reform. But chief ministers of
India’s diverse regions were not eager to give up their newfound power to make
India’s federal politics more equitable. Instead, they became adept at drawing
on their national relevance to extract bargains and rents from the center while
accumulating political credit within the centralized system. Political opportunism prevailed over the country’s
principled federal foundations.

Celebrating election results outside the Bharatiya Janata Party state headquarters, New Delhi,
February 2025
Breaking the Bargain
When the BJP acquired near-total dominance over
national politics after its election landslide in 2014, Indian federalism
entered a new era. Over the past decade, well-established federal compromises
have been unsettled, and new fissures have emerged.
The BJP, a Hindu
nationalist party, is ideologically impatient with the principles of federalist
accommodation, privileging instead, to borrow the Hindutva
slogan of “Hindi, Hindu, Hindustan,” a singular national identity defined by
the Hindu religion and the north Indian language of Hindi. The BJP has been
careful not to directly challenge the linguistic basis of India’s federalism,
but it has flirted with doing so, with party leaders making frequent political
remarks about Hindi hegemony that have spurred regional
parties to double down on their linguistic identity-based politics in
opposition to the BJP. Tensions caused by subnational identity-based politics,
which the carefully crafted federal settlement had for a time kept at bay, are
slowly regaining political salience. This is especially perceptible in states
where linguistic and cultural identities have long been a point of pride, such as Tamil Nadu.
An even more dramatic
shift to the country’s federal bargain came in 2019, when the BJP-led central
government abrogated Article 370 of the Indian constitution, the provision that
had granted the majority-Muslim state of Jammu and Kashmir a special status and autonomy. The mechanisms by
which this was done crossed several red lines in India’s federal design. The
central government not only stripped Jammu and Kashmir of its autonomy but also
eliminated its statehood, bringing it under direct rule by downgrading it from
a state to a union territory. Although local elections were held in 2024, statehood is yet to be restored. The central
government took a similar step against Delhi, the state home to the capital,
New Delhi, (comparable perhaps to the District of Columbia, were it a state).
The Modi government passed a law in 2023 that seized key administrative
functions from Delhi, such as bureaucrat transfers and postings, effectively
stripping the government of its executive powers. In both instances, the center
circumscribed the powers of state governments and thereby effectively
disenfranchised the voters who had elected them. Indian central governments
have long misused their powers to impose their will on the states. But few
Indian governments have acted so brazenly in violating the spirit of the country’s
federal bargain.
This overstepping has
also challenged the principle of India’s “state-nationhood.”
Asymmetric federal arrangements are a critical vehicle for protecting the
compromises regarding regional autonomy on which independent India was founded.
But this constitutional principle is now unsettled. In the process, the BJP has
lost its political credibility to mediate, through accommodation and
representation, the assertions of ethnic and regional identity politics.
Indeed, its impatience with principles of accommodation has opened new
fissures. This is already evident in the northeastern state of Manipur, which
has been gripped by ethnic violence since the summer of 2023. Any political
settlement of the strife in Manipur, primarily
between two tribal communities, will require addressing each of their political
anxieties—a feat that India’s current political culture has neither the
credibility nor the political dexterity to achieve.

Push and Pull
In the economic
realm, India’s federal system was designed to serve states’ unique
developmental needs, regardless of their revenue-generating capability.
Ensuring that all citizens have access to equivalent public services is its
guiding principle. Effectively, this has meant that richer states have shared a
significant portion of their tax revenues with poorer states. But as the
socioeconomic gap has grown, richer states have begun to challenge this
long-accepted principle, which they now argue “penalizes” them for their
economic success while rewarding poor performers. In 2024, the chief minister
of the southern state Karnataka, for example, told the 16th Finance
Commission—the body charged with determining the formulas for tax devolution
for the next five years—that by the current equity-based formulas, for every
rupee that Karnataka contributes, it receives only 0.15 of a rupee back. Uttar
Pradesh, by contrast, gets 2.73 rupees back for every rupee it contributes.
The upcoming
delimitation, in which southern states stand to lose seats, has only heightened
the stakes for these disputes. But finding a solution is not easy. A
fundamental move away from the redistributive principle will make it
significantly more difficult to address the growing regional economic
inequalities that have spurred discontent with Indian federalism in the first
place. After all, poorer regions need greater resources to bridge the
socioeconomic gap. But the ever-widening disparities are making this
politically and practically untenable.
Even as richer states
seek greater fiscal autonomy, the imperatives of economic growth pull in
another direction. A growing modern economy requires integration. Goods,
services, and people must be able to move smoothly over its internal borders.
There is a sound economic rationale, therefore, in adopting rationalized tax
structures between regions, centrally regulated national markets, and uniform
public services across state boundaries. A more centralized economy would have
many benefits. But it also requires states to give up degrees of fiscal
autonomy. In 2017, India’s center and states forged a grand bargain, passing a Goods and Services Tax that required states to give
up their power to set certain indirect tax rates in favor of a coordinated,
uniform tax system. But in losing autonomy in one area—taxes on goods and
services—the states felt more acutely the importance of direct taxes, such as
those on income, that are redistributed by the central government. This is one
reason why richer states are bristling at the current system. These tensions
could be managed and resolved by the careful intervention of the center. But
just as in the political domain, the BJP has used its powers to deepen
centralization in the fiscal realm, undermining its credibility as a mediator
in the process.

A Fractious Future
India’s current
power-sharing model is in crisis, with traditional federalism struggling to
fulfill the imperatives for economic growth and to resolve demographic
inequalities in politically meaningful ways. These fissures won’t lead to
anything as drastic as secessionism. Indian federalism’s great success is the
fact that the state-nation model is deeply entrenched, its polarizing identity
politics notwithstanding. Those challenging the federal bargain will still seek
accommodation within the federal framework. But as regional economic and
political divisions sharpen, national governance and dispute resolution will
become much harder. So, too, will consensus and cooperation among states and
between the states and the center become more difficult. The imperatives of
partisan politics will overpower principled attempts to resolve tensions within
the federal model. A standoff is considerably more likely than a resolution.
A number of possible
solutions to the political and economic dilemmas confronting Indian federalism
have circulated in the public sphere. India could, for example, reform its
parliament. The Rajya Sabha, or upper house,
was originally designed to serve as a “council of states,” but it has been
severely diluted to no more than a parking lot for powerful politicians seeking
a legislative role without having to win elections. If the Rajya Sabha were to
become a genuine forum for representing states’ interests, it would offer more
opportunities for finding renewed political consensus. India could also
leverage already existing, underutilized platforms for interstate debate and
dispute resolution. In the early 1990s, the country established an interstate
council to mediate fiscal and administrative relations among states and between
states and the center. But no government has taken the council or its potential
seriously, pushing it to the margins—bureaucrats view a posting to the council
as punishment for a misstep or for falling out of favor.
Above all, renewing
India’s federal compact is a matter of political commitment. The BJP’s
impatience with the federal principle has left the country without a credible
mediator at this crucial juncture. With the
fissures that have already taken root, there are few incentives for states
or for the central government to advance a meaningful set of reforms. Instead,
a fractious federal politics is likely to define India through the next
decade—and likely to undermine India’s economic aspirations. Perhaps even more
significant, however, it may weaken the very glue that first bound the country
together and made its democracy such a unique experiment—one that showed the
world how plural identities could be held together within the ambit of a
nation-state.
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