Every 26 November, India pauses to honour the adoption of its Constitution in 1949—a document that transformed a newly independent nation into the world’s largest democracy. Seventy-six years later, Samvidhan Divas is not a ritual of nostalgia but an urgent call to examine whether we still treat the Constitution as the supreme law of the land or merely as a convenient political accessory.
The Indian Constitution remains one of the boldest experiments in democratic statecraft. Drafted under Dr B.R. Ambedkar’s stewardship, it reconciled dazzling diversity with unity, entrenched fundamental rights while imposing fundamental duties, and chose justice—social, economic, and political—as the north star of the Republic. Its longevity is not accidental; its resilience comes from a framework flexible enough to accommodate 106 amendments yet firm enough to withstand assaults on its basic structure.
Yet resilience is being mistaken for invincibility. When leaders wave pocket editions of the Constitution at rallies without internalising its spirit, reverence turns into spectacle. When governments bypass parliamentary scrutiny or citizens surrender civic responsibility to partisan rage, the document is reduced from sacred text to slogan. Dr Ambedkar’s warning echoes louder today: no matter how good the Constitution is, it will prove bad if those who are called to work it are bad people.
Good governance begins where constitutional morality ends as rhetoric and begins as practice. It demands that institutions remain independent, dissent remains protected, equality remains non-negotiable, and fraternity remains the antidote to divisive poison. Prime Minister Modi has repeatedly called the Constitution India’s “holy book”; the test of that claim lies not in words but in the strengthening of democratic guardrails, transparency in public life, and the courage to rise above electoral temptation.
On this Constitution Day, let us pledge more than salutes and seminars. Let us commit to constitutional literacy in every classroom, constitutional conduct in every corridor of power, and constitutional conscience in every citizen’s heart. Only when justice, liberty, equality, and fraternity cease to be mere preamble and become lived reality will we truly honour the soul of Indian democracy.
The Constitution is not a museum piece; it is a living covenant. Safeguarding it is not the government’s job alone—it is the unfinished business of every Indian.
