The Constitution makes the removal of the President an extraordinary and tightly guarded power. Article 94(C) allows removal only by a resolution passed by a majority of all the then serving members of the House – that is, the actual strength of the Lok Sabha, vacancies excluded but absences counted. Currently, this threshold translates into 271 affirmative votes. The intent of the framers is unambiguous: while the Speaker must remain accountable to the House, the office must be insulated from momentary political majorities, strategic dissent, or partisan vendettas.
Equally important is the detailed procedural architecture associated with the exercise of this power. A notice of at least 14 days is mandatory, and the notice must be signed by at least two members of the Lok Sabha. The permission of the House will then have to be sought, and even at this initial stage, at least 50 members will have to stand in support before the motion can proceed. Once the motion is approved, it is given priority in the business of the House, yet the debate is carefully controlled.
The solution should be clearly and precisely expressed, raise a definite issue and specify the allegations with sufficient clarity. This requirement comes not only from the rules of procedure but also from Article 96, which provides the Speaker with the right to participate and vote in a motion seeking his removal. Principles of natural justice demand that the Speaker know the exact allegations to respond meaningfully. Vague or blanket allegations attack the impartiality that the parliamentary process is designed to maintain.
As Speaker Om Birla faces a no-confidence vote, it is worth remembering how carefully Parliament has exercised this power. Over more than seven decades, the Lok Sabha has faced this question thrice – in 1954, 1966 and 1987. Each example reveals not only how the House understood the Speaker’s accountability, but also how much discipline it imposed on itself while testing that power.
The first attempt to remove the Speaker of the Lok Sabha was made against GV Mavalankar on December 18, 1954, which was moved by SS More and seconded by KS Raghavachari. Before getting to the substance of the allegations, Morey addressed a preliminary objection that such a motion requires the prior consent of the House leader. To refute this, he relied on pre-Constitution precedent of 1944, which originated in the Central Legislative Assembly under the Government of India Act, 1935. In that instance, rules made under the 1935 Act required the consent of the Leader of the House before the Speaker of the Assembly could move a related motion.
Morey’s argument was constitutional and deliberate. He pointed out that the requirement of 1944 arose entirely from statutory rules and not from any constitutional principle. The Constituent Assembly was fully aware of this practice, yet when creating Article 94, it deliberately chose not to include any such requirement. He argued that the omission was deliberate: the power to remove the Speaker was vested directly in the House, subject only to safeguards clearly written into the Constitution.
This position was clearly confirmed by Jawaharlal Nehru, the then Prime Minister and Leader of the House: Once members have invoked the constitutional provision, technical objections should not be used to prevent the House from considering the matter.
The charges against Mavalankar arose from his handling of parliamentary business related to incidents in Manipur, including short notice questions and refusal to allow an adjournment motion related to alleged violence against sitting MP Rishang Keishing. Opposition members argued that the Speaker relied excessively on the Home Minister’s official statement, thereby shielding the executive from parliamentary scrutiny.
Senior members, especially Thakur Das Bhargava, cautioned that the charge of bias against the Speaker is one of the serious charges that Parliament can consider and it requires specific decisions, dates and precedents. Deputy Chairman M Ananthasayanam Ayyangar, who was presiding, agreed that although Article 94 does not require the charges to be clearly stated, natural justice requires precision, especially since Article 96 allows the Speaker to speak and vote on the motion.
Recognizing that this was the first invocation of Article 94, the Speaker accepted the motion conditionally, limited the debate to specified examples, and ruled that vague expressions had no legal value. When 56 members stood up in support, leave was granted. After debate, the House defeated the motion by voice vote, setting a lasting precedent: Speaker accountability must be measured with restraint, specificity, and institutional seriousness.
The second attempt took place on November 24, 1966, when Madhu Limaye sought permission to remove Speaker Hukam Singh. The proceedings, chaired by Deputy Speaker SV Krishnamurthy Rao, never progressed meaningfully. Instead, they became a protracted contest over constitutional authority, the binding power of House rules, and the limits of debate on the recess stage.
The controversy centered on Rules 201(2) and (3) (as they stood at the time), which required members to first seek the permission of the House and explicitly prohibited discussion on merits at that level. The Deputy Speaker consistently ruled that no speeches or explanations were permitted beyond a formal request for leave.
Limaye challenged this position, arguing that the rule itself is unconstitutional because it impairs members’ rights under Article 118, which makes parliamentary rules subject to the Constitution. He argued that he could not meaningfully seek leave without explaining why the procedural stay was invalid. This argument received intermittent support from Ram Manohar Lohia, Kapur Singh and Umanath, who said that rules inconsistent with constitutional provisions should be followed.
The Chairman rejected this line of argument, holding that the House, acting through its rules, was sovereign in regulating procedure, and the Chairman could not rule on the constitutionality of those rules during live proceedings. He emphasized that his decisions were binding despite disagreements.
Attempts to rely on 1954 precedent were also rejected, with the Chairman ruling that precedent could not override the plain words of rules adopted by the House.
When Limaye finally sought leave alleging arbitrary rejection of questions, rejection of adjournment motions, usurpation of members’ privileges and abuse of disciplinary powers, only 22 members stood in support, far short of the required 50. Leave was therefore refused, and the motion failed without discussion on the merits.
The third major example came in 1987, when Somnath Chatterjee, with the support of 14 other members, gave a notice demanding the removal of Balram Jakhar. The controversy broke out even before the House took cognizance of the motion, as the notice received wide advance publicity in the press.
Deputy Speaker M Thambidurai, who was presiding, ruled that the advance disclosure was a violation of Rule 334A, which prohibits publicizing the notice before admission. Strongly condemning the conduct, he said it was not a breach of privilege. On admissibility, the Chairperson found the motion prima facie flawed due to the vagueness of the charges, noting that the charges referred broadly to the Chairperson’s decisions without identifying specific acts. Since the Constitution allows the Speaker to participate and vote on such a motion, natural justice requires precise and definite allegations.
Nevertheless, following the approach adopted in 1954, the Deputy Speaker refused to stop the House from deciding on the matter. Recognizing that he should not interfere between members and the House, he placed the question of permission under Rule 200(2). Permission was granted and the motion was debated. After full discussion, the House defeated the motion by voice vote, marking the third time that the Lok Sabha has deliberately refused to remove its Speaker.
There is an amazing similarity in these three episodes. In each instance, the House had an elected Deputy Speaker who, as envisaged in the Constitution, presided over proceedings relating to the removal of the Speaker. Articles 93 and 95 mandate that the Lok Sabha shall elect both a Speaker and a Deputy Speaker, and that the Deputy Speaker shall perform the duties of the Speaker when the office is vacant or when the Speaker is being removed. This constitutional design ensures continuity, neutrality and institutional legitimacy in moments of extraordinary sensitivity.
However, that design has been left incomplete in recent years. No Deputy Speaker has been elected since the formation of the 17th Lok Sabha – a vacancy that continues in the current Lok Sabha as well. This creates a situation for which no precedent exists. In the absence of the Deputy Speaker, the House may have to rely on a member of the Speakers’ Panel under the rules of procedure. Yet the Constitution is silent on which member of the panel will preside, how that selection will be made, and whether such an arrangement would achieve equal constitutional validity in proceedings of this gravity. Any such decision would itself constitute a new parliamentary precedent, created not by explicit constitutional guidance but by necessity.
Parliament’s own history shows that the power to remove the Speaker has never been taken lightly. All three resolutions so far have failed because the House demanded precision, process and restraint before exercising its most serious internal power.
Today, the bigger constitutional concern may lie elsewhere – whether Parliament has weakened the institutional safeguards that make such accountability credible. The continued absence of the elected Vice President is not a technical omission. This is a constitutional lapse whose consequences will become most acute when Parliament tries to hold its highest presiding authority accountable.
Ravindra Garimella is a former Joint Secretary (Legislation) of the Lok Sabha Secretariat, and Priyank Nagpal is an independent researcher and former LAMP Fellow. Views expressed are personal
