“Ancient republics” and the Bihar SIR

“If the past is to be called upon to legitimize the present, as it so frequently is, then the veracity of such a past has to be continuously vetted.” – Romila Thapar

The Supreme Court’s May 2026 Judgement on the Special Intensive Revision (SIR)  of electoral rolls in Bihar begins with an unexpected invocation: the Vajji Confederacy of 6th Century BCE, situated in modern-day Bihar. The apex court notes that the “story of democracy” is one of “identifying persons entitled to participate in the choice of government,” and sets out by asking what legal parameters must be used for such identification. Bihar, it observes, stands at the beginning of this history because of Vajji and its tradition of “republican and quasi republican institutions”.

This history is not decorative; invoking Vajji is an attempt to provide an epistemic foundation and legal continuum to the SIR. Not only does the Court’s reading of Vajji arise from deep-seated flaws in historical methodology, its usage to legitimise an electoral exercise which has led to a mass movement also draws attention to faultlines in our lived experiences of citizenship in modern-day India. Further, it reveals a leaning towards Swadeshi jurisprudence, wherein the project of decolonizing Indian legal thought replaces universal legal frameworks with nationalist ones. Because this is done without first dismantling the hierarchies and exclusions that exist within nationalist framings, it produces its own kind of internal colonialism.

Vajji as the ‘Mother of Democracy’

Vajji was one of 16 Mahajanapadas, or powerful states, which existed during the time of the Buddha. Some of these Mahajanpadas followed monarchical structures, while others like Vajji had political systems called ganas-sanghas. Citing the Mahāparinibbāna Sutta, a Buddhist text, the Judgement states that Vajji was administered by a constituted public body, settled procedures, and authority exercised through full and frequent assembly. Thus, it argues that “ancient Bihar cannot be reduced to monarchy” but also “preserves the memory of organised republican life.”

The Court then inserts an important qualification: Vajji had neither universal adult franchise nor a modern electoral roll.

Its importance is not merely its republican structure, but the fact that it had to address the question of who could participate, deliberate, and decide on questions of polity. In the Court’s words, “In that limited but real sense, ancient history reveals an early concern with public membership.”

Historical evidence establishes that Vajji was a league of several ganas-sanghas, with the city of Vaishali (present-day Muzaffarpur) as its capital. It is unclear which or how many gana-sanghas were part of the confederacy, although several historians identify at least four constituent clans: the Lichchhavis, Vajjis, Videhas, and Nayas. Much of the historical evidence regarding the confederacy is drawn from Buddhist and Jain textual accounts of these clans, particularly of the Lichchhavis.

While these gana-sanghas formed an alternative political structure, historians like Romila Thapar and Upinder Singh find the term ‘republic’ misleading, as membership was not extended to the general public. The apex court relies primarily on Jagdish P. Sharma’s ‘Republics in Ancient India’. Sharma has addressed the governance and organisation of Vajji and the Lichchhavis in detail. While there are several answers regarding the composition of the Licchavian assembly—one being that it included 7707 rajas—Sharma is of the view that these rajas were the heads of families within the ruling clans. Their sons were uparajas, who would represent them in case of illness or inability, and eventually succeed them in the assembly. “Thus, it would appear that only part of the adult population, though a large number, had potential political rights and held state offices,” concludes Sharma.

This particular historical reading clarifies that members of the gana-sangha were not elected but rather chosen by virtue of their birth. Sharma further points out that the republic was not only exclusive to the ruling clans, it was also confined to certain members of these clans as far as political rights go. He writes:

“There was no place for women in the Licchavian Assembly… We do hear of some great women in Indian monarchies, but the sources say nothing as to the actual role and position of women in Licchavian politics. However, we can say with some certainty that they had no citizenship rights at Vesali. They were mainly housewives…” (Emphasis added).

Thapar, Singh, Sharma and R.S. Sharma have all confirmed that there were others residing in these ganas who were not represented in the assembly and held virtually no political power. This included artisans, carpenters, potters, smiths, other labourers, dasa-karmakaras (slaves), and even Brahmans. They contend that the gana-sangha differed from other ancient political orders in two very significant ways. One, it departed from Vedic orthodoxy and the Brahminical authority that other monarchical structures adhered to. Two, its internal decision-making system was based on majority voting amongst the rajas, rather than the solitary decision of a lone monarch. Hence, calling Vajji a republic is defensible only in the limited sense of it having been non-monarchical. Beyond that, it was as non-democratic as a system of governance can be.

Inheritance or departure?

In this sense, Vajji is exactly what our modern-day democracy should aspire not to be: an upper caste, male-dominated assembly system in which a large part of the republic gets neither voting rights nor representation. In fact, Vajji teaches a dangerous lesson and serves as a warning for our Indian democracy. It is evidence of how even an illiberal democracy can have set procedures, vigorous political debates and democratic methods like voting instituted in the assembly, while at the same time remaining outrageously exclusive and unjust. This is precisely why our Constitution breaks with the historical progression of such systems and shifts political membership from ‘subject’ to ‘citizen’, thus creating a much more inclusive system for our republic.

In this sense, our constitutional history is not inheritance but repudiation. India’s postcolonial constitution is based on universal adult suffrage rather than hereditary exclusion. The Court’s invocation of Vajji risks obscuring the significance of this departure.

We must go back to Dr. Ambedkar’s final speech in the Constituent Assembly on 25th November 1949 in which he warned that India is entering a “life of contradiction” in which political equality of ‘one person, one vote’ will coexist with socio-economic inequities. The SIR might put political equality at peril as well. Universal adult franchise is an expression of fraternity among Indian citizens, a value underscored by Dr. Ambedkar. Procedural restrictions on the substantive right to vote militate against fraternity.

Giving epistemological legitimation to a flawed electoral revision through Vajji’s exclusionary membership may produce a ‘homogenous’ concept of ‘political’. In German jurist Carl Schmitt’s words, this is built on a ‘friend-enemy’ distinction in which those who are accepted belong to the political community, while excluded are cast as ‘threat’. Such a conception is antithetical to any liberal democracy.

Surbhi Khyati is a former journalist with The Indian Express, a Ramnath Goenka Awardee in Investigative Journalism, and a Rotary Peace Fellow. She is currently pursuing a PhD at the Department of International Relations, Jadavpur University. She tweets at @SurbhiKhyati and can be reached at khyatisurbhi@gmail.com. 

Vijay K. Tiwari is an assistant professor (law) at the West Bengal National University of Juridical Sciences, Kolkata. He teaches Jurisprudence. He tweets at @EkDiary59334 and can be reached at vijaykt@nujs.edu.