The recent visit of Prime Minister Narendra Modi to the residence of the Chief Justice of India, D.Y. Chandrachud, has set off a wave of debate concerning the ethical underpinnings of judicial conduct and the independence of India’s judiciary.
In an era marked by the increasing convergence of politics and the judiciary, such an event – no matter how benign in its actual occurrence – raises critical questions about public trust in the judicial process, and whether the perception of judicial independence can survive even the faintest brush with political power.
As we contemplate the optics of this encounter, we must do so with reference to the Bangalore Principles of Judicial Conduct and the Restatement of Values of Judicial Life, both of which serve as critical lodestars for judicial propriety.
Yet, this incident is neither isolated nor unprecedented; rather, it occurs in the shadow of a series of troubling moments where the Indian judiciary’s ethical boundaries have appeared blurred.
Whether it is Justice Ranjan Gogoi’s swift nomination to the Rajya Sabha following his tenure as chief justice, or Justice Arun Mishra’s glowing praise for Modi or even Justice P.N. Bhagwati’s uncritical admiration of Indira Gandhi during the darkest hours of the Emergency, each event echoes with an uncomfortable reminder of the fragile line between judicial independence and the lure of political proximity.
The Bangalore Principles of Judicial Conduct, adopted in 2002, are a universally accepted framework designed to safeguard the independence, impartiality, integrity and propriety of judges. Of these, independence is perhaps the most pivotal, requiring that judges be, and be seen to be, free from any form of external influence, especially from political quarters. This independence must not only be factual but perceptual – justice must not only be done but must manifestly and undoubtedly be seen to be done.
Equally important is the principle of propriety, which demands that judges not only conduct themselves with impeccable ethical standards but avoid any situation that might lead to a perception of partiality or undue influence.
In this context, the prime minister’s visit to the chief justice, even if a simple social call, becomes a matter of intense scrutiny. The mere optics of such a meeting can erode public confidence in the judiciary’s capacity to act impartially when faced with executive power.
The historical record offers us reasons for such concern. The judiciary’s autonomy is a foundational element of democratic governance, and yet it has been repeatedly tested and, at times, found wanting.
Consider, for instance, the case of Justice Ranjan Gogoi, who, as chief justice, presided over some of the most politically sensitive cases, including the Ayodhya verdict and the Rafale deal controversy. Within months of retiring, he was nominated to the Rajya Sabha, an appointment that many saw as undermining the very notion of judicial independence.
Here was a judge who had, only a short while ago, dispensed justice in matters affecting the executive, now rewarded with a seat in the upper house of parliament, ostensibly as a gesture of gratitude. This raised troubling questions: How could the public remain confident in the neutrality of a judiciary whose most senior figure so swiftly transitioned into the political realm?
Then there is the legacy of Justice P.N. Bhagwati, whose contribution to public interest litigation is legendary, but whose tacit approval of Indira Gandhi’s Emergency continues to stain his otherwise sterling record. In a letter to the prime minister at the height of the Emergency, Bhagwati extolled her leadership, choosing to remain silent on the gross human rights violations that were unfolding under her regime.
Such moments force us to confront the uncomfortable reality that even our most revered judicial figures are not immune to the seductions of power.
More recently, Justice Arun Mishra, while still a sitting judge, showered praise on Prime Minister Modi, calling him a “versatile genius” and a “visionary”. Such encomium from a judge currently seated on the bench is not merely improper; it is a grave affront to the very notion of impartiality. How can a judge who lavishes praise on the head of the executive maintain the perception of neutrality when adjudicating cases involving the state?
These incidents are not mere historical footnotes – they form the context within which every judicial action is now scrutinised. When the prime minister visits the chief justice, the public does not simply see a meeting; it sees, in the background, the spectre of Justice Gogoi’s Rajya Sabha seat, Justice Bhagwati’s silence during the Emergency and Justice Mishra’s fawning adulation of Modi.
It is this larger context that makes the recent meeting between the prime minister and Chief Justice Chandrachud so fraught with significance. It is not the content of their conversation that matters, but the symbolic weight such an encounter carries.
The judiciary must not only be independent, but it must also be perceived as such by the public it serves. As long as doubts persist about the judiciary’s proximity to power, the judiciary’s role as a bulwark against executive excess is diminished.
The Restatement of Values of Judicial Life, adopted by the Supreme Court in 1997, reinforces this idea. It mandates that judges must steer clear of associations or relationships that could compromise their impartiality. It explicitly states that a judge must not enter into relationships that could call their neutrality into question.
When the head of the executive visits the head of the judiciary in a political climate as polarised as India’s, the boundary between propriety and impropriety becomes perilously thin.
The erosion of public confidence in the judiciary is not just an Indian problem. Globally, courts have recognised the need for greater transparency and accountability to preserve their integrity. In the United States and the United Kingdom, judicial ethics are subject to much stricter scrutiny, and social interactions between judges and political leaders are carefully regulated to avoid the appearance of impropriety.
India must confront the growing reality of the increasingly blurred lines between the judiciary and the executive. To restore public confidence in the judiciary, it is essential to adopt several measures.
First, there must be complete transparency regarding any interactions between judges and political leaders, with clear public explanations provided about the purpose of such meetings.
Second, the Supreme Court must enforce existing ethical codes more rigorously and consider updating them to address the growing concerns about political proximity.
Finally, robust mechanisms must be established to investigate and hold judges accountable for any conduct that threatens judicial independence or impartiality. The Bar must be a conscience keeper for the Bench here.
India’s judiciary stands at a critical juncture. The erosion of public trust in judicial independence is not just a theoretical concern; it has real consequences for the rule of law and democracy. The Bangalore Principles and the Restatement of Values are not mere ethical guidelines; they are the moral compass by which the judiciary must navigate its role in a constitutional democracy.
Judges must not only remain independent but must be vigilant in ensuring that no action – whether deliberate or inadvertent – undermines the public perception of their impartiality. As the judiciary grapples with its own ethical dilemmas, it is critical that it reflects on the lessons of the past and charts a path forward that prioritises integrity above all else.
Only by maintaining this fragile line can the judiciary continue to serve as the last bastion of justice in a rapidly changing political landscape.
Jhuma Sen is an advocate practising before the Calcutta high court. She is also a Global Fellow in Courage, Centre for Human Rights and Humanitarian Studies, Brown University.
