On December 17, 2025, the Indian Parliament found itself in the midst of a stormy debate over the Sustainable Harnessing and Advancement of Nuclear Energy for Transforming India (SHANTI) Bill, a piece of legislation that could fundamentally reshape the nation’s approach to nuclear power. As the government pressed forward with its proposal to open the civil nuclear sector to private participation, opposition voices—especially those from the Congress party—rose in sharp dissent, warning of far-reaching risks to national security, public safety, and the very fabric of India’s nuclear governance.
Congress MP Gaddam Vamsi Krishna set the tone with a blistering critique, questioning the government’s motives and the bill’s very name. "The name 'Shanti' (peace) is ironic given the 'very dangerous' implications it poses for national security," he declared, as reported by ANI. Vamsi Krishna accused the Centre of showing "no accountability, no responsibility, no answers to any issue happening around the country, and they are ultimately facing no consequences." He cited a pattern of governmental evasion on critical issues, referencing recent terror attacks in Delhi, persistent unemployment, and the ongoing Indigo airline crisis as examples of a broader failure to address national concerns.
But it was the SHANTI Bill’s core proposal—inviting private players into the nuclear sector—that drew the sharpest rebuke. "Who will be liable when an accident or incident happens in the nuclear space?" Vamsi Krishna asked, his voice echoing the anxieties of a nation that remembers the devastating legacy of nuclear disasters abroad. He pointed out that countries like France, Russia, China, and South Korea have steadfastly kept their nuclear sectors under state control, suggesting that India’s move toward privatization was both unprecedented and dangerous. "The government is passing this Bill to put national security, national defence in the hands of private players," he warned, questioning whether the public had truly given its mandate for such "draconian decisions."
The timing of the bill’s introduction did not escape scrutiny either. Vamsi Krishna noted that it came on the heels of the Adani Group’s expressed interest in the nuclear sector, raising suspicions about the motivations behind the legislation. "Is it a pure coincidence, or are we repeatedly making the same mistakes that were made in the last ten years?" he asked, urging the government to learn from history rather than repeat it. He painted a vivid picture of the unique dangers posed by nuclear radiation: "Radiation, unlike other tragedies, does not behave like a gas or water tragedy; it does not leak or disappear. It settles into the ground (zameen mein bas jati hai)," he said, underscoring the long-term, often invisible, consequences of nuclear mishaps.
Vamsi Krishna’s critique was not limited to technical or procedural concerns. He lamented a shift in political culture, recalling how ministers once resigned after national tragedies—a gesture of accountability he sees as absent in the current government. "They simply divert the topic and move on," he said, expressing frustration at what he perceived as a lack of responsibility at the highest levels. He argued that the global record of nuclear privatization is one of repeated failure, and firmly called for any liability to remain with private players and suppliers. "This Shanti Bill is all about risk, and it's not about if it will happen, but when it will happen," he concluded, making a passionate plea to safeguard citizens and future generations from what he sees as an inevitable disaster.
Congress MP Shashi Tharoor, speaking in the Lok Sabha, echoed and expanded on these concerns, describing the SHANTI Bill as a "dangerous leap into privatised nuclear expansion" that lacks adequate safeguards. According to Millennium Post, Tharoor did not mince words: "We cannot allow the pursuit of capital to override the non-negotiable requirements of public safety, environmental protection and victim justice." He criticized the bill’s structure, calling it "ridden with exceptions, heavy on discretion and largely indifferent to public welfare." In a pointed jab, Tharoor remarked, "I am not sure whether it is a nuclear bill or an unclear bill."
Tharoor also took issue with the bill’s preamble, which characterizes nuclear energy as "a clean and abundant source for electricity and hydrogen production." He called this language "dangerously misleading," arguing that it fails to acknowledge the massive and irreversible risks inherent in radioactive leaks, nuclear waste, and the potential for catastrophic accidents. Tharoor reminded the house that India’s usable uranium reserves are limited, and while the country possesses significant thorium reserves, thorium-based reactors are still decades away from meaningful deployment. "The full life cycle of nuclear fuel from mining to waste disposal is neither clean nor sustainable. We must be honest with the people of India about what we are asking them to accept," he said.
Delving into the specifics, Tharoor highlighted provisions in the bill that allow "any other company or any person expressly permitted by the central government" to apply for a license to set up and run nuclear facilities. This, he argued, "effectively amounts to a blanket opening up of the entire nuclear-energy sector—from mining to waste management—to a wide range of private actors with indeterminable qualification criteria." He warned that the bill permits a single composite license for multiple activities across the nuclear fuel cycle, meaning "one entity could control mining, fuel fabrication, reactor operation and waste handling." In Tharoor’s view, this concentration of control "heightens systemic risk exponentially rather than containing that risk."
Perhaps most damning was Tharoor’s critique of the bill’s liability provisions. He pointed out that the legislation caps total nuclear incident liability at approximately USD 460 million (Rs 3,910 crore)—a figure unchanged for 15 years, despite inflation and the lessons of disasters like Fukushima and Chernobyl. "For context, the Fukushima disaster cleanup cost has already exceeded USD 182 billion.... Chernobyl’s total economic impact has exceeded USD 700 billion. Yet we propose to cap liability at less than half a billion dollars? This is grossly inadequate," he said. Tharoor characterized the liability cap as "not a safety net, it is a trapdoor through which victims could fall into decades of legal battles and inadequate compensations."
Adding a touch of poetry to his critique, Tharoor told the house, "Behind every promise in this bill, there is a price to be paid and often that price has to be paid by the person who is not a stakeholder in decisions. You will not understand the value of the promises and that is my concern." He further criticized the bill for limiting who can file complaints about negligence, noting that only authorized officials can do so—another barrier to victim justice.
Both Vamsi Krishna and Tharoor called for a comprehensive reworking of the SHANTI Bill, rather than mere cosmetic amendments. Tharoor suggested that the bill should have been referred to a joint parliamentary committee for more rigorous scrutiny, a sentiment echoed by many in the opposition. As the government pushes forward with its vision of transforming India’s energy landscape, the voices of caution from the opposition serve as a reminder that technological ambition must always be balanced with public accountability and safety.
The debate over the SHANTI Bill is far from over, but one thing is clear: the future of India’s nuclear sector hangs in the balance, with the choices made today set to reverberate for generations to come.
