Milestones and Missed Promises
The Story of RTI— Once Celebrated, Now Endangered.
Rishikesh Kumar*
A man was gunned down on the Lucknow–Delhi National Highway.
But it wasn’t a case of robbery, a political rivalry, or a random act of violence. The man killed was Raghavendra Bajpai—a local journalist and an RTI activist. His crime? He asked too many questions.
Sadly, his story is not an exception—it’s part of a disturbing pattern.
Since the Right to Information (RTI) Act came into force in 2005, there have been hundreds of attacks on people using the law to uncover corruption and wrongdoing. According to the Commonwealth Human Rights Initiative (CHRI), between October 2005 and October 2016, there were 311 reported cases of threats, attacks, and harassment directly linked to RTI use. At least 56 persons died during this period— including 51 murders and 5 suicides.
But this is just one side of the problem—the visible, violent side.
In 2023, the government passed the Digital Personal Data Protection (DPDP) Act, a legislation designed to protect personal data in the digital age. But hidden within it, in Section 44(3), lies a potential death sentence for transparency. This clause, by removing the exception for “public interest” in Section 8(1)(j) of the RTI Act allows public authorities to withhold information under the broad guise of protecting “personal data”—even when the data involves public servants, public money, and decisions taken in official capacity.
This means that the very law once meant to hold power accountable may now be used to shield it from scrutiny. That shift has grave implications.
And the evidence is piling up.
Now, let’s shift focus. Behind the scenes, there’s another crisis—one that doesn’t make headlines but affects thousands: the silence of the system.
On October 12, 2024, The Times of India reported that over 4 lakh RTI appeals and complaints were pending across India as of June 30, 2025. Why? Because of vacant posts in Information Commissions, slow disposal of cases, and a system that’s increasingly unresponsive.
So, to understand the bigger picture, we need to ask a few difficult but necessary questions:
- What is the RTI act and why was it created?
- Who benefits when information is blocked, and who pays the price?
- Can this law still serve its purpose, or has it been quietly hollowed out?
When the RTI Act came into force in 2005, it showed us who benefits when information is hidden, and more importantly, who suffers when it finally comes out.
Through answers to these questions, we will trace the RTI’s roadmap—its milestone, the manipulation it has suffered, and the missed promises that still haunt its legacy.
This is not just a legal journey. This is the story of a Right—once celebrated, now endangered.
The Birth of RTI
Before it became an Act passed in Parliament…
Before it was cited in courtrooms and appeals…
RTI began with a very simple, very human problem.
In the villages of Rajasthan in the early 1990s, people were starving—not because there wasn’t enough food, but because they didn’t know where the food was going.
In one village, a woman stood up during a public hearing organised by the Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan (MKSS). She had worked on a road-building project, yet her name wasn’t on the muster roll and her wages had not been paid.
“How is that possible?”, she asked. “My hands are cracked from the stones. I carried the gravel. I was there. Where did the money go?”
No one had an answer. Or at least, no one was willing to give one.
That’s when something powerful happened. The villagers started demanding access to official records—bills, vouchers, lists. They wanted to see the files, not just hear empty promises. And when they finally got hold of a few documents, the truth spilled out: massive corruption, ghost workers, and non-existent projects eating away public funds.
It was never just about paperwork. It was about power—and the right to question it.
This movement, led by MKSS, National Campaign for People’s Right to Information (NCPRI) and fuelled by the voices of the poor, eventually grew into a nationwide demand. Civil society, lawyers, journalists—everyone joined in. They weren’t asking for favours. They were demanding what every democracy should guarantee: the right to know
RTI’s real strength lies in how it empowers not just individuals, but also institutions of public accountability
That demand led to the birth of the Right to Information Act in 2005.
And for a while, it worked like magic.
People filed RTIs to uncover scams in ration shops, ghost schools, fake pension schemes, illegal land deals.
Walls that had stood for decades began to crack. Suddenly, the common man had a tool to look into the rooms of power. But as the flood of questions rose, so did something else—resistance. And soon, the very tool that was created to empower the powerless became a threat to the powerful.
RTI is not just an administrative tool—it’s a democratic necessity, a constitutional promise, and a lifeline for participatory governance.
RTI in the Crosshairs
When the RTI Act came into force in 2005, it did more than open up dusty government files—it opened up a Pandora’s box of truth. It showed us who benefits when information is hidden, and more importantly, who suffers when it finally comes out. In the now-infamous 2G Spectrum Scam, RTI activist Subhash Chandra Agrawal filed a simple request that unravelled a telecom scandal, implicating top political figures, including Telecom Minister A. Raja and DMK leader Kanimozhi. In the Commonwealth Games scam, it was an RTI by the Housing and Land Rights Network that exposed how the Delhi government diverted Rs 744 crore from Dalit welfare funds—and spent most of it on infrastructure that existed only on paper. When Prime Minister Modi announced demonetisation in 2016, an RTI filed by Venkatesh Nayak revealed that the RBI hadn’t even given formal approval before the decision was made—proving that decision was bulldozed. In another revelation, an RTI reply from the RBI confirmed over 23,000 loan fraud cases involving Rs 1 lakh crore, reported by banks in just five years.
In Odisha, villagers used RTI to challenge the Vedanta University land grab, where the state had promised 15,000 acres to a private billionaire without even giving affected people the chance to be heard—as required by law. And within months of RTI’s birth, an NGO exposed how Indian Red Cross Society officials had misused funds meant for Kargil war relief and disaster victims. These stories weren’t leaked. They weren’t ‘breaking news’. They were dug out by citizens armed with the right to ask. But RTI’s real strength lies in how it empowers not just individuals, but also institutions of public accountability. At Common Cause, RTI has been a vital tool to expose wrongdoing and understand systems. It has helped in collection of large-scale data on critical issues like policing, electoral matter, and governance, which fed into some of India’s most respected public reports. The Status of Policing in India Report, widely used by scholars, journalists, and policymakers, drew significantly from RTI responses received across states. And like many other committed organisations, this information has been used by Common Cause to inform public discourse, strategic litigation, and policy advocacy. This is what RTI was always meant to do—build a better-informed democracy, piece by piece.
Is RTI still Effective?
On paper, the RTI Act is still intact. Citizens still have the right to file applications. Public authorities are still required to respond. Information Commissions still exist. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: The law hasn’t been repealed—it’s been quietly weakened, diluted, and ignored.
It wasn’t a single blow. It was a slow bleed.
Step 1: Starve It
Starve the system from within. Leave key posts in Information Commissions vacant. Let appeals pile up. Don’t allocate enough resources. As of mid-2025, over 4 lakh RTI appeals and complaints were pending across the country. Some applicants wait months, even years, to get a response—if they get one at all.
Step 2: Amend It
In 2019, Parliament amended the RTI Act—quietly, with minimal debate. It gave the central government power to control the tenure and salary of Information Commissioners. This was a clear message: “We control the watchdog.” It weakened the independence of the very bodies meant to protect the citizen’s right to know.
Step 3: Delay, Deny, Disregard
Even when applications are filed, authorities have learned to dodge. Use vague exceptions, cite “national interest”, shift responsibility, pass the buck, or just stay silent—knowing most citizens don’t have the time, money, or energy to chase a response across appeal after appeal.
Step 4: Intimidate
In the worst cases, activists are threatened, families harassed and whistle-blowers are abandoned. When asking a question becomes risky, fewer people ask.
RTI - A Constitutional Right
We often take pride in saying that India is the world’s largest democracy. It’s a phrase repeated in speeches, textbooks, and political rallies. But what does that actually mean?
The word ’democracy’ has its roots in Greek and Latin—
‘Demos’ meaning people, and
‘Kratos’ meaning power or governance.
Put simply, democracy means power of the people—not just to vote, but to question, to know, and to participate in governance.
Even our Constitution begins with a powerful affirmation:
“We, the People of India…”
These five words make it clear: The Constitution draws its legitimacy from the people. And for that power to be real, for that promise to mean anything, people must be informed.
This is where RTI finds its roots—not just in a statute passed in 2005, but deep within the Constitution itself.
RTI and Article 19(1)(a)
Article 19(1)(a) guarantees the Right to Freedom of Speech and Expression. But over time, the Supreme Court has consistently interpreted this right to include the Right to Know.
In the landmark case of Raj Narain v. State of Uttar Pradesh (1975), the Court held:
“People cannot speak or express themselves unless they know. Therefore, the right to know is embedded in the right to freedom of speech and expression.”
This case was about government transparency during the Emergency era—and it made it clear that citizens have the right to scrutinize public affairs, especially when it involves those in power.
RTI and Article 21
But the right to know doesn’t stop at Article 19.
In Maneka Gandhi v. Union of India (1978), the Supreme Court expanded the scope of Article 21, which guarantees the Right to Life and Personal Liberty, to include life with dignity, fairness, and justice.
The Court observed that a life without access to information—especially information that affects one’s liberty, health, livelihood, or safety—cannot be a life with dignity.
If the government takes decisions that affect your land, your job, your rights—and you’re kept in the dark—how can your liberty be meaningful?
In many judgments, the Supreme Court has made it clear that Articles 19 and 21 are interlinked when it comes to information:
Article 19(1)(a) gives you the right to seek and receive information and
Article 21 ensures that this information is essential to live with dignity, autonomy, and awareness.
RTI is, therefore, not just an administrative tool—it’s a democratic necessity, a constitutional promise, and a lifeline for participatory governance.
RTI: Oxygen for Democracy
Can someone who doesn’t know what policies are being made…
Who doesn’t know where public money is being spent…
Who doesn’t know their rights or entitlements…
…really call themselves a participant in democracy?
Democracy without information is like a body without oxygen. That’s why the Right to Information is imperative.
The question is no longer whether RTI is useful. The question is: Will we continue to defend it—or will we let it quietly become another broken promise of democracy?
Because the right to know isn’t just about information—it’s about power, ownership, and accountability. It’s about saying: This country is ours—and we deserve to know how it’s being run.
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