Editorial

External Affairs Minister S. Jaishankar’s sharp remarks in Luxembourg, where he cautioned the West against offering “free advice” to India on national security, underline a deeper shift in India’s foreign policy posture. Speaking to the Indian community, Jaishankar articulated what many in India have long felt: that prescriptions from Western capitals often ignore ground realities, historical contexts, and the sovereign right of nations to define their own security priorities.

India’s national security challenges are neither abstract nor academic. They are immediate, complex, and deeply rooted in geography and history—ranging from cross-border terrorism and unresolved boundary disputes to cyber threats and internal security concerns. To expect India to address these issues using frameworks designed in distant capitals is not only impractical but also patronising. Jaishankar’s remarks were not a rejection of dialogue or cooperation; rather, they were a firm assertion that engagement must be rooted in mutual respect, not moral grandstanding.

The West’s tendency to sermonise on democracy, human rights, and security—often selectively—has increasingly drawn criticism globally. Many countries in the Global South perceive this approach as a continuation of an old habit: advice without accountability, standards without self-reflection. India’s response reflects a growing confidence among emerging powers to speak plainly and resist being boxed into narratives shaped by others’ geopolitical interests.

Jaishankar’s diplomacy has consistently emphasised realism over rhetoric. Whether it is India’s position on Ukraine, its engagement with Russia, or its counter-terrorism policies, New Delhi has made it clear that decisions will be guided by national interest, not external pressure. The Luxembourg remarks fit squarely within this doctrine. They remind the world that India is no longer a passive recipient of opinions but an active shaper of its own strategic environment.

Importantly, this stance does not signal isolationism. India continues to work closely with Western nations on trade, technology, climate change, and security cooperation. But partnership, as Jaishankar implied, cannot thrive on one-way advice. It requires listening as much as lecturing, understanding as much as prescribing.

In an increasingly multipolar world, power is no longer defined solely by economic or military might, but by the confidence to assert one’s perspective. India’s message from Luxembourg was clear: it welcomes engagement, debate, and even disagreement—but not condescension. National security, after all, is not a subject for casual commentary. It is a responsibility borne by the nation that must live with the consequences of every decision.

Jaishankar’s words resonate beyond one speech or one venue. They reflect an India that is self-assured, articulate, and unwilling to outsource its judgment. In doing so, India is not challenging the West—it is challenging outdated assumptions about who gets to advise whom in the 21st century.

The recent revision of electoral rolls, with draft rolls shedding 5.82 million names and a deletion percentage of 7.6 per cent, has once again brought into focus a critical but often under-discussed aspect of Indian democracy: the integrity and inclusiveness of voter lists. While the deletion rate is the lowest among states heading to the polls this summer—compared to Kerala’s 8.6 per cent, Tamil Nadu’s 15.2 per cent, and Uttar Pradesh’s striking 18.7 per cent—the sheer scale of deletions raises important questions about process, transparency, and voter confidence.

Electoral roll revision is a necessary administrative exercise. It aims to remove duplicate entries, deceased voters, and those who have migrated permanently, thereby strengthening the credibility of elections. Clean rolls are essential to prevent fraud and ensure that each vote cast reflects a legitimate democratic choice. From this perspective, deletions per se are not alarming; they are an expected outcome of periodic verification.

However, the concern lies in how these deletions are carried out and who may be inadvertently affected. Past experiences have shown that large-scale revisions can disproportionately impact the poor, migrant workers, urban slum dwellers, and young first-time voters—groups already on the margins of political participation. When names disappear from rolls without adequate notice or clear reasons, the risk is not just administrative error but democratic disenfranchisement.

The variations across states are equally instructive. Kerala’s relatively modest deletion rate aligns with its strong local governance and higher levels of documentation and voter awareness. Tamil Nadu and Uttar Pradesh, with significantly higher deletion percentages, reflect the challenges of scale, migration, and uneven administrative capacity. These disparities underline the need for state-specific strategies rather than a one-size-fits-all approach to voter verification.

Equally important is the issue of transparency. Voters must be informed clearly and in advance about revisions, provided accessible mechanisms to check their status, and given sufficient time and support to file objections or corrections. The use of digital tools has improved efficiency, but it cannot replace on-ground verification and human oversight—especially in regions with limited digital access.

As elections approach, the Election Commission bears a heightened responsibility. Accuracy must not come at the cost of inclusiveness. A democratic system is judged not only by how well it excludes illegitimate entries, but by how effectively it ensures that every eligible citizen is able to vote without undue hurdles.

Ultimately, the credibility of electoral rolls is inseparable from public trust. Large deletions, even when justified, demand greater explanation and scrutiny. In a democracy as vast and diverse as India’s, vigilance must extend beyond polling day to the very foundation of the electoral process—the voter list itself.

• SAS Kirmani