RIGHT ANGLE – Saving Indian Judiciary

India’s judiciary is one of the pillars on which the country’s constitutional democracy rests. When legislatures are divided, governments are accused of overreach, or citizens find themselves powerless against the administration, the courts remain the ultimate refuge.

But what happens when access to judicial attention itself begins to appear unequal? What happens when influential politicians, well-connected lawyers and organised pressure groups seem better placed to command the Supreme Court’s time than ordinary citizens struggling with poverty, injustice and administrative indifference?

The danger is not merely institutional inconvenience. It is the gradual erosion of public confidence in the impartiality of justice.

Saving the Indian judiciary, therefore, must begin with an uncomfortable question: are our courts, particularly the Supreme Court, being drawn increasingly into political battles at the expense of their constitutional responsibility to deliver timely and accessible justice?

The noble idea that became vulnerable to abuse

Public Interest Litigation (PIL) was among the most progressive innovations in Indian judicial history. It relaxed traditional rules of locus standi — the requirement that a person approaching a court must ordinarily demonstrate a direct legal injury. The objective was revolutionary: to allow public-spirited individuals and organisations to seek justice for bonded labourers, prisoners, disadvantaged communities and others unable to approach the courts themselves.

PIL helped expand the meaning of fundamental rights and brought questions of environmental protection, prison conditions, labour exploitation and governmental accountability into the judicial domain. It gave the voiceless a voice and strengthened the proposition that constitutional rights must have practical meaning.

Yet every powerful instrument is vulnerable to misuse. Over time, PIL has also become a vehicle for political contestation, publicity-seeking, ideological campaigns and attempts to secure judicial intervention in matters that properly belong to elected institutions or ordinary administrative processes.

The problem is not that politically sensitive cases should never be heard. Electoral integrity, freedom of expression, equality before the law and civil liberties are legitimate constitutional concerns, regardless of who raises them. The problem arises when the label of public interest becomes a convenient cover for private, partisan or political objectives.

The judiciary does not seem to be distinguishing between a genuine public grievance and litigation designed principally to embarrass a government, generate headlines or obtain a political advantage unavailable through democratic channels.

The inequality of access to judicial attention

A particularly troubling feature of the present system is the perception that access to the Supreme Court is not experienced equally by all litigants.

Consider the ordinary citizen confronting a municipal authority over unsafe housing, a pensioner denied retirement benefits, a poor family struggling against illegal land acquisition, or residents living amid polluted water and broken civic infrastructure. For these people, obtaining legal representation can be prohibitively expensive. Even after approaching a court, they may face repeated adjournments, procedural complications and years of uncertainty.

Contrast this with the visibility enjoyed by politically influential petitioners represented by eminent senior advocates. Lawyers such as Kapil Sibal and Abhishek Manu Singhvi are entitled to represent any client they choose, and their professional standing should not itself become a ground for criticism. They are experienced advocates exercising a legitimate constitutional and professional right.

Nevertheless, the concentration of high-profile political litigation in the hands of a small circle of celebrated lawyers, some of whom are active politicians by being the Members of Parliament, raises a legitimate institutional question: does prominence translate into disproportionate access to judicial attention? Unfortunately, that is the growing perception.

Such a perception deserves attention. If an ordinary litigant believes that the doors of the highest court open more readily for the powerful, confidence in the justice system suffers — even when individual judicial decisions are legally sound.

Justice must not only be impartial; it must also be seen to be impartial. A transparent, rule-based system for urgent listings would reduce dependence on personal access, persuasive pressure or the ability to command attention in an open courtroom.

Harish Salve, among other senior members of the legal profession, has been associated with concerns about the functioning of the courts and the need to preserve institutional discipline. Recently, he, along with over 500 other prominent lawyers, formally raised this concern by writing a joint letter to the Chief Justice of India (CJI). The letter, titled “Judiciary Under Threat — Safeguarding Judiciary from Political and Professional Pressure,” directly targeted what they described as a “vested interest group” attempting to influence judicial outcomes. They are creating false narratives to influence who the judges are in their cases and casting aspersions on judicial integrity.

No advocate, however distinguished, should be able to create the impression that the Supreme Court must abandon its scheduled work whenever that advocate insists on an immediate hearing. The constitutional authority of the Court must remain greater than the professional standing or political influence of any individual appearing before it.

The responsibility lies equally with the Bench. Judges must retain the confidence to say no — even to the most celebrated lawyer — when the circumstances do not justify priority.

When political battles migrate into the courtroom

The misuse of judicial processes becomes particularly consequential when courts are drawn into continuing political confrontations. A court must ask whether the petitioner has demonstrated a genuine legal injury, whether the requested remedy falls within judicial competence, and whether the case presents a substantial constitutional question rather than an attempt to obtain political advantage.

The danger is that repetitive litigation can turn the courtroom into another stage for political theatre. A petition is filed, a senior advocate demands an urgent hearing, political leaders issue statements, television channels amplify the confrontation, and the judicial response becomes a headline before the underlying dispute has been examined on its merits.

The result is a judiciary pulled into the daily turbulence of party politics. Even a legally correct judgment can then be interpreted through partisan loyalties, weakening the institution’s ability to command broad public respect.

Political leaders must not be allowed to intimidate the courts

The independence of the judiciary also depends on the conduct of politicians outside the courtroom. Criticism of judicial decisions is legitimate in a democracy. Judges are not beyond scrutiny, and reasoned disagreement with their judgments is neither contemptuous nor inherently improper.

But there is a difference between criticising a judgment and attempting to intimidate a court through personal attacks, threats or efforts to mobilise political pressure against judges.

Recent events underline this distinction. On October 16, 2026, the Supreme Court issued notice in proceedings concerning remarks by Shiv Sena (UBT) leader Sanjay Raut and journalist Nikhil Wagle about Chief Justice of India Surya Kant. The matter arose amid a dispute over the Chief Justice’s refusal to meet opposition leaders. Raut subsequently expressed regret and reiterated his faith in the judiciary.

But the same Raut said something more disturbing a few days later. On October 19, he wrote a tweet referring to the burning of Albania’s Supreme Court. He claimed that protesters had attacked the institution because it was allegedly helping a corrupt prime minister, and suggested that countries — particularly India — should learn from these events.

Whatever the circumstances of the Albanian unrest, violence against a court is not a legitimate remedy for dissatisfaction with judicial decisions. To invoke such an episode as a lesson for India risks lending political respectability to intimidation of the judiciary.

This episode illustrates a broader challenge. Political leaders cannot simultaneously invoke the Supreme Court as the ultimate guardian of democracy and treat it as illegitimate whenever it declines to accommodate their demands.

Rahul Gandhi, Lalu Prasad Yadav and the question of equal justice

The question of whether influential politicians receive more favourable treatment from the judicial system deserves particularly close scrutiny in the case of Rahul Gandhi. The issue is not whether a political leader should be denied a legal remedy, but whether the law is applied consistently, irrespective of political stature.

In March 2023, Rahul Gandhi was convicted of criminal defamation by a Surat court and sentenced to two years’ imprisonment for his remarks concerning the Modi surname. His Lok Sabha membership was consequently terminated under the Representation of the People Act, 1951. In August 2023, however, the Supreme Court stayed his conviction, observing that the trial court had failed to adequately explain its decision to impose the maximum sentence. The stay enabled Gandhi to return to Parliament.

The case raised a wider question about the consequences of judicial discretion when the individual concerned is one of the country’s most prominent political leaders. Here. the comparison with Lalu Prasad Yadav, the former Bihar chief minister, is instructive.

Yadav was convicted in the fodder scam cases, involving corruption and fraudulent withdrawals of public funds, and was disqualified from Parliament after his conviction. His conviction was not stayed in the manner that Rahul Gandhi’s was. The contrast illustrates how consequential the judicial decision to stay — or not to stay — a conviction can be for a politician’s career.

The concern becomes more serious when Rahul Gandhi appears to wear the accumulation of criminal complaints as a badge of honour. On October 7, 2026, Rahul Gandhi reportedly declared that 45 FIRs had been registered against him and that he wanted the number to reach 100, describing each FIR as a medal.

His supporters may interpret this as defiance in the face of what they consider politically motivated cases. But there is another, equally legitimate question: does presenting the accumulation of criminal proceedings as a political achievement risk trivialising the legal process itself?

The proper response to a false or politically motivated case is to challenge it through lawful procedures, not to transform the judicial process into a contest in which the number of cases becomes a measure of political courage.

The issue of institutional respect has acquired an additional dimension in the recent confrontation over the Election Commission. Opposition leaders, including Gandhi, sought the Supreme Court’s intervention over electoral matters. Their constitutional right to petition the Court is unquestionable. But judicial proceedings cannot be converted into a demand that judges meet political leaders privately or grant their requests outside established procedures. When a court declines such a demand, the appropriate response is to pursue the legal remedy available, not to portray the refusal as proof that the institution has failed to defend democracy.

A democracy cannot function if judges are expected to decide cases in favour of particular political leaders to avoid protests, intimidation or threats of institutional destruction. Nor can it function if politicians regard every adverse order as evidence of judicial complicity while treating favourable orders as vindication of their own position.

The rule of law demands something more demanding of everyone: acceptance that courts must decide according to law, that their decisions may be criticised through reasoned argument, and that neither political power nor public anger can dictate the outcome.

The ultimate test is simple: a court must neither fear a powerful politician nor favour one. If the public begins to believe that justice depends on political stature, the damage extends far beyond an individual case. It undermines the constitutional promise that every citizen, regardless of office, influence or ideology, stands equal before the law.

The judiciary’s own responsibility

The judiciary itself must examine the institutional practices that make misuse possible.

First, the listing of cases requires greater transparency. Urgent hearings should follow publicly available criteria, with narrowly defined exceptions for exceptional circumstances. Where a matter is listed out of turn, the reasons should be recorded sufficiently to establish that the decision was principled rather than arbitrary.

Second, courts should develop stronger safeguards against repetitive or frivolous PILs. Petitioners should disclose relevant political, financial and organisational interests. Where deliberate abuse is established, appropriate costs should follow. At the same time, genuine public-interest litigants must not be deterred by punitive costs merely because their cases are unsuccessful.

Third, constitutional courts must exercise restraint in entering areas where the Constitution assigns primary responsibility to the legislature or executive. Judicial review is essential, but governing a country through continuous judicial supervision of routine policy choices and resorting frequently to exercise legislative and executive powers under Article 142 undermine institutional accountability rather than improve it.

Fourth, the Supreme Court should pay greater attention to the backlog of ordinary cases and the implementation of existing judgments. The public value of a court is measured not only by the constitutional questions it resolves but also by whether its institutional machinery delivers justice within a reasonable time.

Restoring the promise of justice to the ordinary citizen

Saving the Indian judiciary does not mean shielding it from criticism or weakening its powers. It means protecting its independence from political intimidation, professional dominance, opportunistic litigation, and its own institutional shortcomings.

The Supreme Court must remain the guardian of fundamental rights, but it cannot become the permanent battleground for every political dispute. PIL must remain a weapon for the disadvantaged, not a convenient instrument for powerful interests. Urgent hearings must reflect genuine urgency, not the ability of an influential petitioner to demand immediate attention.

Above all, the judiciary must remember that its constitutional legitimacy rests on public confidence. The poor citizen seeking relief from a corrupt official, the worker denied wages, the family fighting an illegal eviction and the prisoner awaiting a fair hearing must feel that their grievances matter as much as those of politicians represented by the country’s most eminent lawyers.

A democracy cannot afford a judiciary that appears remote from ordinary citizens while remaining immersed in the controversies of the powerful. Nor can it afford political leaders who invoke judicial authority when convenient and undermine it when disappointed.

The Constitution envisages neither judicial supremacy without restraint nor political supremacy without accountability. It envisages independent institutions, each exercising its powers within constitutional limits.

The time has come for a comprehensive institutional commitment to transparent listings, disciplined PIL jurisdiction, and equal access to justice and unwavering judicial independence. The Supreme Court must be firm enough to resist pressure from politicians and advocates, humble enough to examine its own shortcomings, and accessible enough to remain the last hope of the ordinary citizen.

The real test of India’s judicial system is not how quickly it hears the powerful, but whether the powerless can obtain justice without needing power, money, or influence. Saving the judiciary means restoring that promise before the widening gap between constitutional ideals and citizens’ experience becomes a crisis of democratic legitimacy.