Justice Yadav vs Justice Varma: When Politics Decides Who's Saved and Who's Not

Justice Yadav’s misconduct may or may not be defensible. That's for the inquiry to determine, writes Sanjay Hegde.

The Justice Shekhar Kumar Yadav episode is now about whether the Supreme Court of India retains the authority to discipline its own, or whether it must first seek clearance from those in high political office.

(Photo: Kamran Akhter/The Quint)

In recent months, an affair of quiet consequence has unfolded within the judiciary—one that speaks less about an individual judge and more about the institutional balance of power between the courts and the political class.

The Justice Shekhar Kumar Yadav episode is no longer just about communal remarks at a public event. It is now about whether the Supreme Court of India retains the authority to discipline its own, or whether it must first seek clearance from those in high political office.

Let us be clear. When a sitting judge of a constitutional court speaks at a platform hosted by the Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) and makes comments that are—by all accounts—communal and provocative, the matter cannot be brushed aside as mere indiscretion.

Such remarks strike at the foundation of judicial impartiality, and prompt, dispassionate inquiry. This is the least that the institution owes to the Constitution and to the people.

That inquiry, however, never quite took off. The in-house mechanism of the Supreme Court, which has previously handled sensitive matters with measured efficiency, was asked to pause in February this year, on the basis of a letter from the Rajya Sabha Secretariat, purportedly under instructions from the Vice President.

The letter claimed that since an impeachment motion had been moved in Parliament, the judiciary must stand down. That motion, signed by 55 Opposition MPs, has since languished, ostensibly under “signature verification,” for over six months.

Contrast this with the case of Justice Yashwant Varma.

Kapil Sibal, one of the signatories to the impeachment motion against Justice Yadav, rightly points out that in that case, no such letter was sent, no pause was requested, and no political hand reached out to shield the judge from scrutiny. The processes of the court were allowed to proceed unimpeded.

Why the discrimination? Why the divergence in treatment? Is it merely coincidence that one judge’s controversial statements were politically convenient while the other’s were not? These are uncomfortable questions, but they must be asked—and answered.

The Judiciary’s Domain Must Be Its Own

Let us remind ourselves that the independence of the judiciary is not merely a principle of governance. It is a structural necessity.

Just as the military must be free from political interference in its internal appointments, promotions, and disciplinary actions, the judiciary too must have absolute authority over its personnel. If judges are to be independent in their decisions, they must also be subject to internal discipline free from political interference.

The in-house inquiry mechanism is not some casual administrative routine. It is the judiciary’s way of telling the public: “Let us first check that this is a genuine case, and not a motivated one.” It operates below the radar, protects the dignity of the office, and ensures accountability without political drama. To short-circuit that process at the first hint of a pending motion in Parliament, is to allow politics to preempt justice.

Let us also not forget: an impeachment motion is only the start of a long process. The Judges (Inquiry) Act, 1968, contemplates a proper inquiry to be set up under the Act before any impeachment can proceed meaningfully.

Sibal has pointed out that in some cases, such as Justice Varma’s, the government appeared in undue haste to move ahead without such an inquiry, suggesting that procedural rectitude is selectively applied.

That, too, is troubling. It suggests that some judges are to be saved while others are to be sacrificed, depending not on the law, but on their political utility.

Creeping Control: A Clear and Present Danger

We must not look away from what is happening.

The political class, through delay and design, seems to be insinuating itself into the internal governance of the judiciary. Judges who speak the language of the majority are defended, and those who are not volubly pro-government are put on notice. This is a move from judicial independence to judicial alignment. This is not the democracy we were promised.

The Supreme Court has, over decades, painstakingly built its independence. The collegium system—however flawed—was meant to ensure that the selection and regulation of judges remain within the judiciary’s domain. But collegium authority means little if it cannot even decide whether a sitting judge should continue to hear cases while under a cloud.

By allowing the Vice President’s letter to derail its in-house process, the court has allowed a dangerous precedent to take root. If this goes unchallenged, future political actors will know precisely what to do when a judge inconvenient to their cause becomes a problem—send a letter, move a motion, and sit on it.

And what becomes of judicial accountability, in the meantime?

A Call for Institutional Clarity

The moment has come for the judiciary to draw a clear line. The Supreme Court must state unambiguously that its in-house mechanisms are not to be paused, suspended, or subjugated to political processes.

The Chief Justice of India, as master of the roster and the head of the judiciary, must ensure that Justice Yadav—like Justice Varma—is not assigned judicial work while the cloud over him remains unresolved. This is not punishment; it is preservation. It protects both the judge and the system until due process concludes. More importantly, it restores public confidence in a judiciary that is increasingly seen as passive in the face of political encroachment.

The larger message must be clear: just as the judiciary does not interfere with the functioning of Parliament or the Executive, it expects the same courtesy in return. Each institution must operate within its sphere. Parliamentary impeachment and judicial inquiries are not mutually exclusive; they are complementary, each with a distinct purpose and procedure.

The notion that one must stop because the other is pending is neither constitutionally mandated nor logically sustainable. The judiciary must reaffirm this boundary—firmly, clearly, and immediately.

Reclaiming Lost Ground

Justice Yadav’s misconduct may or may not be defensible. That is for the inquiry to determine. But what is already apparent is that the manner in which the process has been stymied sends all the wrong signals.

It suggests that political power can still reach into the sanctum of the judiciary and hold sway. It suggests that institutional processes can be bent with a letter and a delay. It suggests that some judges are protected, others are expendable—and the rules change based on the day’s politics.

This must not be allowed to stand.

The judiciary must reclaim its control over appointments, transfers, and disciplinary mechanisms. The Supreme Court’s authority is being tested—not with loud confrontation, but with soft, strategic encroachments. These are the more dangerous kind, for they come dressed in procedure and wrapped in delay.

It is time for the judiciary to push back. And it must start by ensuring that no judicial work is assigned to Justice Yadav, and that the in-house inquiry proceeds without waiting for political convenience.

For in protecting its own house, the court protects the Republic.

(Sanjay Hegde is a senior advocate at the Supreme Court of India. This is an opinion piece and the views expressed are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)