Judicial Criticism and the Limits of Public Discourse

 

It is a settled principle of law that once a judgment is delivered, it enters the public domain. Citizens, scholars, and practitioners are free to analyse, appreciate, or criticise it based on their understanding. Such engagement enriches jurisprudence and strengthens democratic debate. However, there is a crucial boundary: while judgments may be critiqued, motives must never be attributed to the judges who delivered them. To do so undermines judicial independence and erodes public confidence in the institution.

Unfortunately, contemporary discourse often blurs this line. Instead of analysing judgments on their merits—examining statutory interpretation, precedent, or reasoning—many commentators resort to questioning the personal background or alleged biases of judges, Justice Aravind Kumar and Justice NV Anjaria. This trend is not only intellectually shallow but also corrosive to the majesty of law.

The recent cases of Sharjeel Imam and Umar Khalid, accused under the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA), illustrate this problem. Bail under UAPA is exceptionally stringent: courts must be satisfied that there are no reasonable grounds to believe the accused is guilty of terrorism-related offences. This makes bail far harder to obtain than in ordinary criminal cases. By contrast, parole—such as that repeatedly granted to Baba Ram Rahim—is a different legal mechanism altogether. Parole is a temporary release of a convict already serving a sentence, usually for humanitarian reasons such as illness, family emergencies, or education. It is granted by administrative authorities, not directly by courts, though courts may intervene if parole is denied arbitrarily. Furlough, distinct from parole, is a routine break granted for good conduct.

Thus, comparing bail under UAPA with parole for convicts is legally unsound. The two operate under entirely different frameworks, purposes, and thresholds. When biased commentators equate these distinct legal processes or attack judges personally, they mislead public understanding and weaken respect for judicial institutions. Criticism of judgments is welcome; scandalising judges is not. The judiciary’s authority rests on public trust, not coercive power. If this trust is eroded by reckless commentary, the rule of law itself is imperilled. Courts have the power to initiate contempt proceedings against those who scandalise or lower the authority of the judiciary. While suo motu action is exercised sparingly, there is a strong case for vigilance against commentators who substitute serious legal analysis with personal attacks. Protecting judicial dignity is not about silencing dissent—it is about ensuring that dissent remains within the bounds of reasoned, lawful discourse.