On September 16, 2025, the Supreme Court of India handed down a decision that has stirred debate across the country: political parties will not be brought under the ambit of the Sexual Harassment of Women at Workplace (Prevention, Prohibition, and Redressal) Act, 2013—better known as the POSH Act. The ruling came in response to a petition seeking to mandate internal complaints committees (ICCs) within all registered political parties, a step the petitioner argued was vital for the safety and dignity of women in Indian politics.
The plea, spearheaded by advocate Yogamaya M G and argued by senior advocate Shobha Gupta, pointed to a glaring gap in redressal mechanisms for women involved in politics. While the POSH Act was established in 2013 to shield women from sexual harassment in the workplace and ensure a safe environment, political parties—often spaces of intense public activity and influence—have largely remained outside its purview. According to The Economic Times, the petitioner highlighted that major parties such as the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) and the Indian National Congress have admitted to having inadequate ICC structures, while the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) has not demonstrated transparency regarding its own committee. Only the Communist Party of India (Marxist), or CPI(M), reportedly has a functioning ICC.
But the Supreme Court, in a bench led by Chief Justice B R Gavai and Justices K Vinod Chandran and Atul S Chandurkar, was unconvinced by the arguments. The court’s skepticism centered on the nature of political parties themselves. "How do you equate political parties as a workplace? When a person joins a political party, it is not employment. It is not a job as they join political parties of their own volition and on a non-remuneration basis. How can the law against sexual harassment in the workplace include political parties? This will open a Pandora's box to blackmail the members," the bench told the petitioner, as reported by The Federal.
The court’s concerns were twofold. First, it questioned the very premise of treating political parties as workplaces under the POSH Act, given that party membership is typically voluntary and unpaid. Second, the justices warned of the potential for the law’s misuse. In their view, extending the POSH Act to political parties could become a tool for blackmail and lead to unintended consequences. "Applying the POSH Act to political parties would open a Pandora's box and become a tool for blackmail and misuse," the bench observed, echoing anxieties about the potential for false or malicious complaints to disrupt the internal dynamics of political organizations.
The court’s decision was also informed by precedent. The plea before the Supreme Court was, in fact, an appeal against a 2022 Kerala High Court judgment. That earlier ruling had held that political parties were under no compulsion to establish ICCs in the absence of a formal employee-employer relationship. The Supreme Court’s refusal to overturn that judgment now cements the legal position: unless there is an employment relationship, the obligations of the POSH Act do not extend to voluntary associations like political parties.
The reaction among legal observers and advocates for women’s rights has been mixed. On one hand, the Supreme Court’s logic—grounded in the technical definitions of employment and workplace—reflects a strict reading of the law as it stands. On the other, critics argue that this interpretation leaves a significant loophole. As The Economic Times noted, the petitioner’s central argument was that political parties, as registered organizations operating within the constitutional framework, should be held to the same standards of dignity and safety for women as any other institution. After all, women are increasingly active in Indian politics, taking on roles that often expose them to the same risks faced by employees in more traditional workplaces.
Senior advocate Shobha Gupta, representing the petitioner, drove home this point, noting the lack of redressal mechanisms for women across the political spectrum. The absence of ICCs in most parties, she argued, means that women have little recourse if they experience harassment or discrimination within party structures. The fact that only the CPI(M) has established such a committee underscores the broader reluctance among political organizations to voluntarily adopt these safeguards.
The Supreme Court’s ruling also comes at a time when workplace harassment and women’s safety remain hot-button issues in India. The POSH Act itself was born out of years of advocacy and high-profile cases that shone a light on the prevalence of harassment in professional settings. Its passage in 2013 was widely celebrated as a landmark for women’s rights, mandating that all workplaces—public and private—establish ICCs and create clear pathways for complaints and redressal. Yet, as this case demonstrates, the law’s reach is not absolute.
According to The Federal, the bench’s reasoning was not simply a matter of legal formalism. The justices expressed real concern that broadening the law’s scope might undermine its effectiveness. "This will open a Pandora's box to blackmail the members," they cautioned, suggesting that the unique nature of political parties—where personal rivalries and factionalism are common—could make them especially vulnerable to misuse of harassment laws. The court’s refusal to entertain a similar public interest litigation (PIL) in the past further signals its reluctance to wade into what it views as a complex and potentially explosive area.
Still, the court’s decision leaves open important questions. If political parties are not workplaces under the law, what mechanisms—if any—exist to protect women who experience harassment within their ranks? Is it enough to rely on parties to voluntarily establish ICCs, or does this risk perpetuating a culture of impunity? For many advocates, the answer is clear: more needs to be done. The current legal framework, they argue, does not reflect the realities of modern political life, where women are not just passive members but active participants, campaigners, and leaders.
Some have called for legislative reform, arguing that the definition of “workplace” under the POSH Act should be expanded to include any registered organization where people gather regularly and where power dynamics—such as those found in political parties—can create conditions ripe for abuse. Others, however, caution that such changes must be carefully crafted to avoid the very pitfalls the Supreme Court warned about: the risk of misuse, false accusations, and the politicization of harassment claims.
For now, the onus remains on political parties themselves to take voluntary action. As the debate continues, the Supreme Court’s ruling serves as a stark reminder of the limits of the law—and the ongoing challenges facing women in Indian politics. Whether parties will rise to the occasion and put robust redressal mechanisms in place remains to be seen, but the conversation is far from over.
The court’s decision draws a clear boundary around the POSH Act’s application, but it also shines a spotlight on the urgent need for political parties to address women’s safety within their own ranks—before the next crisis forces the issue back into the public eye.
