Lalit Shastri

India’s judiciary—once held up as the last line of defence for the Constitution—is now at the centre of a growing storm. With every passing year, and in fact with recent judgments, the Supreme Court’s actions are raising serious questions not only about judicial overreach, but also opaque practices, institutional protectionism, and a seeming disregard for constitutional boundaries.

Presidential Assent Under Deadline: An Unconstitutional Directive?
In a move that has shaken legal scholars and constitutional experts alike, the Supreme Court recently ordered the President of India to act within three months on bills reserved by Governors. The catch? This was never even sought in the original petition.

This decision sets a dangerous precedent. The President is part of the executive, and Article 201 does not empower the judiciary to impose timelines on presidential decisions. Vice President Jagdeep Dhankhar has rightly raised the alarm, warning that this may violate the very doctrine of separation of powers.

Is it now for the courts to write new provisions into the Constitution?

Collegium System: How Democratic it is?
Let’s get one fact clear: the Collegium System—through which judges appoint judges—is not in the Constitution. It is a judicial invention, born out of a series of judgments, not democratic process.

When Parliament introduced the National Judicial Appointments Commission (NJAC) through a constitutional amendment to bring in transparency and accountability, the Supreme Court struck it down in 2015.
This wasn’t just an act of resistance—it was an assertion that the judiciary need not be answerable to anyone, not even to the people’s elected representatives.

So today we have a system where judges are appointed in complete secrecy, with no recorded reasons, no scrutiny, and no accountability. No other democracy in the world functions like this.

The Yashwant Verma Case: Institutional Rot Laid Bare
The case of Justice Yashwant Verma, where large amounts of unaccounted cash were allegedly found at his residence, should have led to a criminal trial. Instead, it led to a transfer.

  • No FIR was filed.
  • No forensic audit was ordered.
  • No independent investigation took place.

What was the three-member panel of judges appointed by the Supreme Court Collegium doing? Did they engage forensic agencies? Did they consult police authorities?

The answer is painfully clear. The focus wasn’t justice—it was damage control.

The Allahabad High Court Bar Association didn’t stay silent. They protested, rightly calling out the judiciary for shielding one of its own. But the system held firm in protecting itself.

This was not justice. This was a hush-up operation, a cover-up dressed in procedural language.

Waqf Act and Selective Activism: When the Judiciary Picks Its Battles
In its recent interim order, the Supreme Court barred non-Muslim appointments to Waqf Boards and froze the denotification of Waqf properties.

What went unaddressed was the more important question:

The Supreme Court is currently hearing a petition on the recent amendment to the Waqf Act.

But what I want to ask is this:

Where was the Supreme Court in 2013, when the Waqf Act was amended to give sweeping powers to Waqf Boards to encroach on non-Muslim lands?

Why the Supreme Court did not strike it down then?

Why is it that even today, Hindus are not allowed to be part of Waqf Boards —
Even when the lands in question often belong to Hindus?

This isn’t secularism.
This is selective blindness.

Who Will Judge the Judges?
These cases are not outliers. They reveal a pattern. A pattern of:

  • Judicial overreach into executive territory
  • Unaccountable judge appointments
  • Opaque internal processes

India must ask the uncomfortable questions now:

  • Who holds the judiciary accountable?
  • Why should judges be above the law they interpret?
  • And how long can a democracy tolerate such imbalance?

The judiciary must not just seem independent—it must also be responsible, transparent, and constitutional. The time for blind reverence is over. The time for judicial accountability has arrived.

Postscript

Unequal Justice? The Long Wait on Waqf Act Challenges and the Supreme Court’s Puzzling Priorities

The Waqf Act, 1995 was enacted to regulate and manage waqf properties across India. In 2013, sweeping amendments were introduced, vastly expanding the authority of Waqf Boards. One of the most controversial provisions was the insertion of “waqf by user”—a clause enabling properties to be declared waqf based solely on long-standing religious use, without formal title or documentation. Additionally, judicial scrutiny of such declarations was significantly curtailed, effectively giving Waqf Boards unchecked powers over vast tracts of land.

These changes triggered a wave of legal resistance. Over 100 petitions—filed by individuals, landowners, Hindu organizations, and concerned citizens—challenged the constitutional validity of both the original 1995 Act and its 2013 amendments. The petitioners alleged infringement of fundamental rights, violation of property rights, religious discrimination, and the denial of equality before law. They also questioned the lack of due process and judicial safeguards in the functioning of the Waqf Boards.

Despite the scale and seriousness of the issues raised, the Supreme Court, over the past decade, what to talk of granting a stay on the implementation of the 2013 amendment and timely hearing of these petitions, the petitioners were not allowed to come anywhere near the apex Court. Instead, the matter remained buried in procedural delays, even as properties continued to be marked and taken over as waqf—often arbitrarily and without recourse for the aggrieved.

Only recently, as petitions also emerged against the 2025 Waqf Amendment Act, did the Supreme Court act decisively—issuing interim directions that included:

A status quo on waqf property denotifications, particularly those declared waqf under the ‘user’ clause.

A freeze on all new appointments to Waqf Boards and the Central Waqf Council pending final adjudication.

Segregation of the pre-2025 petitions and identification of five lead matters for focused hearing in May 2025, while treating others as intervention applications.

While these steps appear procedurally sound, they highlight a striking judicial contradiction.

Why was no such urgency shown when the 2013 amendments were first challenged? Why did the highest court of the land choose not to freeze the implementation of a law that gave quasi-judicial powers to Waqf Boards to notify lands as waqf without due process, and without appeal?

The contrast could not be starker. On one hand, petitioners challenging the 2013 amendments have waited over ten years—without even an interim stay. On the other, the 2025 law, still in its infancy, has been met with immediate restraint orders. This selective intervention raises troubling questions about consistency, fairness, and the rule of law.

It underscores a disturbing irony: the judiciary that is expected to protect constitutional rights impartially has, in this instance, allowed a questionable law to operate unchecked for a decade, while exercising judicial activism on a newer law still under legislative review.

The Supreme Court is the interpreter of the Constitution, but the President is its protector. And while the judiciary rightfully exercises interpretive authority, its failure to act with equal urgency across cases dealing with the same subject matter undermines public trust in the balance of constitutional power.

In any functioning democracy, justice delayed is justice denied—but here, it appears justice is not just delayed, it is disparately delivered. For many whose lands and rights were affected by the 2013 amendment, that is a constitutional failure the Court must now answer for.