Citizenship and the Constitution
- general.law

- Oct 24, 2020
- 7 min read
Abstract
This article explains the vision of citizenship set out in Part II of the Indian Constitution,
through a close reading of the Constituent Assembly speech. I shows that through its specific
provisions in Part II, the Constitution articulates a vision of Indian citizenship that is
interwoven with Indian constitutional identity as a whole: secular, egalitarian, and non-
discriminatory. Drawing upon universal humanist principles – and in specific and conscious
contrast to the State of Pakistan – the Constituent Assembly crafted an idea of citizenship that
rejected markers of identity, whether ethnic or religious. A careful reading of the Constituent
Assembly Debates reveals, therefore, that while Parliament was free to legislate on
citizenship, it was to be bound – always – by the defining features of the Indian polity.
Parliament could not – and was not intended to – ever create conditions for entry into the
polity (through citizenship laws) that were fundamentally at odds with its secular and civic-
nationalist identity. This was meant to act as an “implied limitation” (a concept familiar to
students of constitutional law) upon Parliament’s powers under Article 11. Under this
Constitution, therefore, religion cannot become a basis for citizenship.
Keywords: Indian Constitution, secularism, citizenship, implied limitations
Introduction
India’s Constitution was framed in extraordinary circumstances. During the three years
(January1947–January 1950) that the Constituent Assembly sat, debated, and drafted, the
country gained independence, was partitioned, and more than five hundred “princely states”
were integrated into what became the Indian Union. These events were often accompanied by
bloodshed and violence.
The Constituent Assembly’s own character reflected these extraordinary circumstances. The
Assembly began as a creature of British statute,but swiftly declared itself unbound and free
to determine its own powers.Its composition changed as time went by, and as the country
split up. And until the first elections, it was the same men and women who sat both as
the Constituent Assembly framing the national Charter, and as a provisional Parliament,
passing laws and administering the country (often in the course of the same day).
The framers of the Constitution, therefore, were faced with a challenging and unprecedented
task. They had to frame a document that would endure for generations – an endeavour that
required them to take a step back from the immediacy of their context, and think in general
and universal terms. At the same time, they had to respond and react on an almost daily basis
to a rapidly shifting national landscape. Unsurprisingly, the Constitution that finally emerged
reflected the circumstances under which it had been framed: grand and lofty principles,
embodied in the Preamble and the fundamental rights chapter, jostled for space with
provisions dealing with the governance of everyday life and the details of administration.
And perhaps nowhere was this contrast more evident than in the Constitution’s
citizenship chapter (Part II). The mass migration that accompanied the Partition required a
concrete and definite solution. After significant debate,this solution emerged from Articles 5
to 8 of the Constitution, which spelt out the citizenship status of those who were born in
undivided India but lived abroad,those who had come into India from Pakistan, and those
who had left India–but decided to come back. And then,without anything further on the
general principles governing citizenship,there came Article 11:
"Nothing in the foregoing provisions of this Part shall derogate from the power of Parliament
to make any provision with respect to the acquisition and termination of citizenship and all
other matters relating to citizenship."
Constitution: About citizenship
In effect, therefore,on a simple reading of Part II of the Constitution, it appears that the
framers in the Constituent Assembly devoted their energies to solving the problems of
Partition,while leaving the citizenship question–as it were –to a future Parliament (Parliament
did indeed enact the Citizenship Act in 1955).Consequently, there is a simple and brief
answer to the question: what does the Constitution say about citizenship? The answer:
nothing.Partition– and its legal consequences- are over, and those provisions,with their quaint
cut-off dates of July1948–have no more than a vestigial role to play. It is the Indian
Parliament that is empowered to laydown the conditions of citizenship (subject,of course,
to the Constitution’s fundamental rights chapter), conditions that it can – and has
–altered from time to time.
This “plenary” power of Parliament and Article 11,which guarantees it – has been a
central part of the debate around the 2019 amendments to the Citizenship Act. These
amendments provide that migrants (a)from three countries–Pakistan, Bangladesh,and
Afghanistan,(b) belonging to any one of six religions – Hindu,Jain, Buddhist, Sikh,
Parsi,and Christian, and (c)having come to India before December 31,2014, would be granted
immunity from prosecution as illegal immigrants,and a fast-track to citizenship. Objections to
this“religious test”for citizenship had been made for months,while the CAA had still been a
Bill,and were made again when it was passed,both in the public sphere,and in the many
petitions that were filed before the Supreme Court, challenging it.
Article11 has played a central role in the CAA’s defence.This defence has taken two
forms,which we can helpfully label a “strong form” and a “weak form”.
In its strong form, the argument goes that Article 11 exempts citizenship law from any
form of constitutional objection,including (effectively) a fundamental rights challenge. The
words “any provision” and “all other matters” suggest that questions of citizenship lie
within the exclusive domain of Parliament. In this essay,I will not engage in detail
with this argument:a look at the text of Article11 demonstrates that it is mean to operate as an
exception to the rest of Part II,but not to the Constitution as a whole. Article13 of the
Constitution clarifies that any law passed by Parliament must comply with the
fundamental rights chapter.6 There is no specific exemption for citizenship laws, and it is
difficult to read any such exemption into Article11 either. Therefore, on a simple
reading of Part-II of the Constitution, it appears that the framers in the Constituent
Assembly devoted their energies to solving the problems of Partition, while leaving the
citizenship question – as it were – to a future Parliament (Parliament did indeed enact the
Citizenship Act in 1955).
Consequently, there is a simple and brief answer to the question: what does the Constitution
say about citizenship? The answer: nothing. Partition – and its legal consequences – are
over, and those provisions, with their quaint cut-off dates of July 1948 – have no more than a
vestigial role to play. It is the Indian Parliament that is empowered to lay down the
conditions of citizenship(subject, of course, to the Constitution’s fundamental rights chapter),
conditions that it can – and has – altered from time to time.
Amendments
This “plenary” power of Parliament – and Article11, which guarantees it – has been a central
part of the debate around the 2019 amendments to the Citizenship Act. These amendments
provide that migrants (a) from three countries – Pakistan, Bangladesh and Afghanistan, (b)
belonging to any one of six religions – Hindu, Jain, Buddhist, Sikh, Parsi and Christian and
(c) having come to India before December 31, 2014, would be granted immunity from
prosecution as illegal immigrants, and a fast-track to citizenship.Objections to this “religious
test” for citizenship had been made for months, while the CAA had still been a Bill, and
were made again when it was passed, both in the public sphere, and in the many petitions
that were filed before the Supreme Court,challenging it.
Article 11 has played a central role in the CAA’s defence. This defence has taken two
forms, which we can helpfully label a “strong form” and a “weak form”.
Article 11 of Indian Constitution
In its strong form, the argument goes that Article 11 exempts citizenship law from any form
of constitutional objection, including (effectively) a fundamental rights challenge. The words
“any provision” and “all other matters” suggest that questions of citizenship lie within the
exclusive domain of Parliament. In this essay,I will not engage in detail with this
argument:a look at the text of Article 11 demonstrates that it is meant to operate as
an exception to the rest of Part II, but not to the Constitution as a whole. Article 13 of the
Constitution clarifies that any law passed by Parliament must comply with the fundamental
rights
chapter.There is no specific exemption for citizenship laws, and it is difficult to read any such
exemption into Article 11 either.
The argument also,however,has aweaker–and more nuanced–form.What the text of Article 11
reveals – according to this weaker version – is that the Constituent Assembly never
intended to bind Parliament to a particular principle, or set of principles, when it came to
questions of citizenship.Subject to the constraints of the fundamental rights chapter – many of
whose provisions are in any case limited to those who are already citizens– Parliament was
free to decide to whom – and on what bases – to accord citizenship.This could even include
religious bases (as the Constitution’s non-discrimination provisions are limited to
citizens), as long as there was a rational reason for Parliament to do so. The“Article 11
defence” goes on to argue, then, that the discrimination of religious minorities in these
three neighbouring countries provides the rational basis for Parliament to pick them out for
special treatment.
It is this second version of the “Article 11 defence” that I shall engage with in this essay.My
task here is not,of course, to examine the constitutionality of the CAA.Nonetheless, the
manner in which Article 11 has been deployed to defend the CAA provides an ideal starting
point, I suggest, from which to begin an answer to that fundamental question:what, if
anything, does the Constitution say about citizenship?My answer– that I shall elaborate over
the course of this essay–will be as follows: through its specific provisions in Part II, the
Constitution articulates a vision of Indian citizenship that is interwoven with Indian
constitutional identity as a whole: secular, egalitarian, and non-discriminatory.Drawing upto
universal humanist principles – and in specific and conscious contrast to the State of
Pakistan– the Constituent Assembly crafted an idea of citizenship that rejected markers of
identity, whether ethnic or religious. A careful reading of the Constituent Assembly Debates
reveals,therefore, that while Parliament was free to legislate on citizenship,it was to be
bound– always– by the defining features of the Indian polity. Parliament could not – and was
not intended to – ever create conditions for entry into the polity (through citizenship laws)
that were fundamentally at odds with its secular and civic-nationalist identity. This was meant
to act as an “implied limitation” (a concept familiar to students of constitutional law) upon
Parliament’s powers under Article11. Under this Constitution, therefore,religion cannot
become a basis for citizenship.
Conclusion
In 1947,when it began its great project of framing the Indian Constitution, the Constituent
Assembly was faced with a stark choice: an inclusive and universal vision of Indian
citizenship, or a narrow vision that privileged ascriptive identities in prioritizing claims to
Indianness. Even before Independence, the Constituent Assembly was clear in its
choice: it chose the former.
Independence, the violence and bitterness of partition, and the establishment of Pakistan as a
State based on religion, put that commitment to severe test. The mass migration that followed
Partition forced the Constituent Assembly to scramble to accommodate the refugees who
came from across the newly-born borders, many of them fleeing religious violence. There
were some in the Assembly who suggested that the only way to meet this moment was –
like Pakistan –to model Indianness on religious lines, and to treat India as a default homeland
for some identities – but not others. The stakes were clear, and the Constituent Assembly
turned down that proposal. Even as it drafted, worked,and reworked provisions to deal with
the largest human exodus in history,it did not let go of the constitutional commitment to
universal citizenship, and to civic rather than religious or ethnic nationalism.
This reading, I hope,will help to bring to life the long-dead provisions in Chapter II of the
Constitution. The relevance of Articles 5 to 8 did not end with the end of the refugee crisis
after Partition. Seventy years later,the rigorously universal and non-discriminatory language
of these provisions is a reminder of the path that the Constituent Assembly could have chosen
to walk– but didn’t. It is in the rejection of sectarian citizenship, at a moment when the fire of
religious hatred and persecution was at its peak, that the universal humanism of the Indian
Constitution’s citizenship chapter truly shines through.
Reference
1. www.barandbench.com
2. www.indconlawphil.wordpress.com
3. Indian Constitution
credit: M.Aadhithiya,
clg name: School of excellence in law.




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