The Supreme Court’s landmark verdict in the Tamil Nadu Governor case is a powerful reaffirmation of constitutional supremacy. At the same time, it is also a much-needed rebuke to creeping executive overreach cloaked in the ceremonial dignity of gubernatorial office. By declaring the actions of Governor RN Ravi in withholding assent and later reserving ten re-enacted Bills for the President as “illegal and erroneous,” the apex court has drawn a clear constitutional line in the sand—governors are not political gatekeepers; they are constitutional sentinels.
In unequivocal terms, the Court has reminded the nation that the role of a Governor is not to subvert the elected government’s legislative agenda by delay, inaction, or capricious veto. The Constitution provides three clear choices under Article 200—granting assent, withholding assent and returning the Bill, or reserving it for the President. What it does not allow is an undeclared fourth: sitting indefinitely on Bills or manipulate procedural timings for political ends. The Tamil Nadu case laid bare the consequences of gubernatorial obstructionism. Bills passed by the elected legislature, some pending since 2020, were neither assented to nor returned for reconsideration. After public and judicial criticism intensified—especially following the Court’s judgment in the Punjab Governor case—RN Ravi suddenly decided to reserve the Bills for the President. This was not only procedurally defective but constitutionally untenable.
The Supreme Court, invoking Article 142, has rightly deemed the ten Bills as having received assent. It is an extraordinary remedy for an extraordinary breach—a reflection of just how egregiously the Governor overstepped his constitutional bounds. The bench was unsparing in its remarks. It asserted that the Governor’s actions showed “scant respect” for constitutional conventions and earlier judgments, and were “writ large” with extraneous considerations.
This is more than a Tamil Nadu issue. Across the country, Governors—appointed by the Centre and often drawn from partisan political backgrounds—have increasingly acted as stumbling blocks in opposition-ruled states. From delaying Bills and ordinances to interfering in university appointments and withholding permissions, the office has become a site of friction rather than federal balance. The verdict makes things clearer now. The Governor is not an overlord but a facilitator. “He must be the catalyst and not the inhibitor,” the Court observed, underlining the Governor’s duty to act with “dispassion, sagacity, and in allegiance to his constitutional oath.” Equally significant are the timelines laid down by the Court. A Governor now has a maximum of one month to act on a Bill, and in cases of reservation or return, no more than three months. These timelines are judicially enforceable, marking the end of the nebulous and politically exploitable doctrine of ‘reasonable time’. Constitutional ambiguity cannot be a shield for deliberate inaction.
In essence, the verdict restores the primacy of democratic will. Legislatures, composed of elected representatives, are the rightful custodians of public interest in a parliamentary democracy. Their decisions, unless unconstitutional, must not be second-guessed or stonewalled by unelected appointees. India’s federal structure is premised on cooperative functioning between the Union and the states. But when Governors act as agents of partisan disruption, that cooperative spirit is poisoned. The Court’s ruling is thus a much-needed course correction, reasserting constitutional morality over political opportunism. As BR Ambedkar warned, even the best constitution can fail if those entrusted to implement it are unworthy. The Supreme Court has reminded us that high office must be held with humility, fidelity, and constitutional discipline—not with hubris or political agendas.