Democracy has a delete button. We like to pretend it’s a high-minded architecture of checks and balances, but in the Lok Sabha, it’s often just a matter of who owns the admin privileges.

Rahul Gandhi knows this better than most. He’s the political equivalent of a legacy app that the system keeps trying to force-quit. After the 2023 saga involving a defamation case, a two-year sentence, and a temporary eviction from his official bungalow, the question of whether he can be booted again isn’t just theoretical. It’s a roadmap for how the Indian state handles its most persistent glitches.

Expelling a Member of Parliament (MP) isn't as simple as a "block" on X, but it’s not exactly deep-sea diving either. The process moves through two distinct lanes: the legal autopilot and the manual override.

First, there’s the legal script. This is Section 8 of the Representation of the People Act, 1951. It’s an automated trigger. If an MP is convicted of a crime and sentenced to at least two years in prison, the system initiates a hard reset. They are disqualified instantly. No debate, no floor test, just a notification from the Secretariat that says your keycard no longer works. This is what happened to Gandhi in March 2023. The friction here isn't in the Parliament; it’s in the judiciary. The "price tag" for this maneuver is a conviction in a court of law, which requires a plaintiff, a judge willing to hand down the maximum sentence, and a legal team that can’t get a stay fast enough. It’s a high-stakes game of beat-the-clock against the Supreme Court.

But then there’s the manual override—the "Nuclear Option." This is expulsion for "conduct unbecoming of a member."

This isn't about what a judge thinks; it’s about what the House thinks. Or, more accurately, what the majority party thinks. The process starts with a complaint to the Speaker. From there, it usually slides into the hands of the Ethics Committee or the Privileges Committee. Think of these as the House’s internal moderation team. They don’t need a criminal conviction. They just need a reason.

The Committee investigates, summons the "user" for a hearing, and drafts a report. If that report recommends expulsion, it goes to the floor for a vote. In a House where the treasury benches hold the numbers, a simple majority is all it takes to wipe the account. We saw this play out with Mahua Moitra and the "cash-for-query" drama. The trade-off is purely optical. You get rid of a thorn in your side, but you risk turning them into a martyr for the "democracy is in danger" crowd.

For Gandhi, the friction points are everywhere. To get him out on legal grounds again, someone needs to make a new conviction stick. To get him out on "conduct" grounds, the government has to decide if the blowback is worth the 48-hour news cycle of outrage.

The step-by-step is a grim little dance. Step one: A flashpoint—a speech, a foreign trip, a document leak. Step two: A flurry of complaints filed with the Speaker. Step three: The Ethics Committee meets behind closed doors, leaking just enough to the press to keep the narrative boiling. Step four: A resolution is moved. Step five: The vote.

It’s a blunt instrument. There’s no nuanced "suspension with pay" here. It’s a total purge. The MP loses their seat, their vote, and their platform. They become a civilian again, at least until the next election or a favorable court ruling reloads their save file.

The system wasn't designed for this kind of constant, high-velocity friction. It was built for a time when "conduct unbecoming" meant something universally understood, not a subjective "vibe check" performed by political rivals. Now, the rules are being stress-tested by a ruling party that views opposition not as a necessary component, but as a bug to be patched out.

Rahul Gandhi is currently operating in a high-risk environment. Every speech is a potential liability; every metaphor is a potential lawsuit. He’s walking through a minefield where the mines are made of fine print and the detonators are held by people who really don't like his brand of politics.

We keep asking if the system can survive the politicians. Maybe we should be asking if the politicians have finally figured out how to make the system irrelevant. If you can just delete the players you don't like, why bother playing the game at all?