Artificial Intelligence Is the Only Way Forward for Judicial Reform

 Justice P. S. Kailasam, who served on the Supreme Court in the 1970s, once observed that on Mondays and Fridays the Court heard roughly 280 Special Leave Petitions (SLPs), and nearly half of them were admitted. Today, the picture is dramatically different. More than 96,000 cases are pending before the Supreme Court of India, with some litigants waiting for justice for over three decades.

Incidentally, Justice Kailasam was the father-in-law of senior Congress leader P. Chidambaram and the father of designated senior advocate Nalini Chidambaram. P Chidambaram also finds mention in K. K. Venugopal's recent memoir, An Accidental Lawyer: My Adventures in Law and Life. Nonagenarian KK Venugopal is himself a legendary lawyer.

In a written reply to the Rajya Sabha, Union Law Minister Arjun Ram Meghwal stated the other day that the Supreme Court has 96,024 pending cases, including 10,094 pending for more than ten years, 558 pending for over twenty years, and 26 cases that have remained unresolved for more than thirty years. Across the country, the total pendency has crossed 5.64 crore cases, highlighting the staggering burden on India's judicial system.

The Minister pointed out that case disposal falls within the judiciary's domain and that delays arise from several factors, including the complexity of cases, the availability of evidence, and the cooperation of investigating agencies, witnesses, and litigants. He also referred to measures such as the ₹7,210 crore e-Courts Phase III project and the establishment of Fast Track Special Courts to improve access to justice and reduce pendency.

While these initiatives deserve appreciation, they do not address the fundamental problem. Unless Artificial Intelligence is integrated extensively into the justice delivery system, the backlog will continue to grow. Merely increasing the sanctioned strength of judges—from the Supreme Court to the district judiciary—will not produce the transformative results that the country urgently needs.

Consider the thousands of cheque dishonour cases under Section 138 of the Negotiable Instruments Act that continue to clog district courts. Many of these cases involve repetitive factual issues and standard legal questions, making them ideal candidates for AI-assisted case management. Likewise, the cross-examination of multiple witnesses, which can often be completed within a day through proper scheduling and technological assistance, routinely stretches over several years because of procedural delays and inefficient case management.

It is perplexing that the Indian judiciary, from the Supreme Court to the district courts, remains hesitant to embrace Artificial Intelligence on a meaningful scale. AI is not a substitute for judges; it is a tool that can significantly enhance judicial efficiency by assisting in research, document analysis, scheduling, transcription, translation, precedent identification, drafting, and case management, thereby allowing judges to devote more time to adjudication.

India is home to one of the world's largest pools of scientific and technological talent. Yet even comparatively modest reforms, such as the widespread live streaming of court proceedings, have taken years to implement and are still absent in hundreds of courts. This slow pace of technological adoption reflects an institutional reluctance to embrace innovation.

Resistance to AI often stems from concerns about reliability, accountability, judicial independence, and the possibility of technological errors. While such concerns deserve careful consideration, they cannot become an excuse for maintaining an outdated system that is already overwhelmed by mounting arrears. Proper safeguards, human oversight, and phased implementation can address these legitimate apprehensions.

The judiciary exists to deliver timely justice. When millions of citizens spend years—sometimes decades—awaiting decisions, incremental reforms are no longer enough. Technology, particularly Artificial Intelligence, is not a luxury but a necessity. Nations that embrace technological innovation will strengthen their justice systems; those that resist it risk falling further behind. If India is serious about judicial reform, the large-scale adoption of Artificial Intelligence is no longer a matter of choice—it is an imperative.

 

Allahabad High Court Judge's Appropriate Decision to Recuse Himself

 An Allahabad High Court judge has, in my humble opinion, taken the right decision to recuse himself from a case. He stated in open court that he had been approached by both parties to show them some favour. In my humble opinion, the matter concerns the grant of bail to a large number of persons lodged in jail.

There was a time when even the faintest whisper casting doubt on a judge's impartiality was enough for the judge to recuse himself or herself, without the slightest hesitation. I vividly remember an incident involving the Presiding Officer of the Industrial Tribunal at Tis Hazari Courts, Delhi. He recused himself from hearing a case on the ground that the counsel appearing for the management was a distant relative of his. I personally told him that I had no objection to his deciding the matter, but he politely declined and recused himself, nonetheless.

The Presiding Officer was a retired District Judge from Uttar Pradesh who had been appointed by the Delhi government to head the Industrial Tribunal. Such conduct by judges inspires confidence not only among litigants but also in the minds of the general public. It reinforces the fundamental principle that justice must not only be done but must also be seen to be done.

The contrast with the present day is striking. Increasingly, parties are compelled to seek the recusal of judges, often leading to public controversy and allegations against the judiciary. The proceedings in certain high-profile cases, including those involving Mr Arvind Kejriwal, illustrate how contentious such issues have become.

There is, of course, a legitimate concern that unscrupulous litigants may make baseless allegations against judges who are otherwise fair, honest, and upright, merely to secure a different Bench. However, where circumstances create a reasonable apprehension that a judge's impartiality may be questioned—or where the judge himself discloses that attempts have been made by litigants to improperly influence the proceedings—it is both prudent and appropriate for the judge to step aside. Such tactics may succeed only once or twice, but they cannot become a substitute for the judicial process.

In the present case, the Allahabad High Court judge has adopted the most appreciable course. Had he proceeded to hear the matter, whichever side lost would almost certainly have questioned the fairness of the outcome. By recusing himself, he has protected not only the integrity of the proceedings but also the credibility of the institution he serves

The Monument Associated with Maulana Jauhar Must Be Reconsidered

Instead of merely demolishing the unauthorised structures of Maulana Mohammad Ali Jauhar University in Rampur, it would be more meaningful to rename the institution after a nationalist Muslim or Dalit leader who made a lasting contribution to education and social upliftment. Retaining the name of Maulana Mohammad Ali Jauhar, in my view, is inconsistent with the secular and democratic ideals of independent India. The choice of such a name reflected the ideological preferences of its founder, Azam Khan.

Maulana Mohammad Ali Jauhar and his brother, Maulana Shaukat Ali, were among the most influential Muslim political leaders of the pre-independence period. Although Mohammad Ali Jauhar briefly associated himself with the Indian National Congress, he later distanced himself from it and aligned himself with the politics of the Muslim League. During his presidency of the Congress, he attended a session of the Muslim League and sharply criticised Mahatma Gandhi, making the controversial remark: “I do hold an adulterous and a fallen Musselman to be better than Mr. Gandhi.” Such statements reflected the deep political and ideological divisions that had emerged during the closing decades of British rule.

Gandhi had initially supported the Khilafat Movement and worked closely with the Ali brothers in the hope of fostering Hindu-Muslim unity. However, after the abolition of the Ottoman Caliphate and the collapse of the movement, their political paths diverged. Mohammad Ali Jauhar became an outspoken critic of Gandhi, accusing him of inconsistency.

From this perspective, it may be argued that institutions or public monuments commemorating personalities closely associated with the politics that culminated in Partition deserve reconsideration. Such historical figures should certainly be studied in schools and universities, but naming public institutions after them raises legitimate questions about the values that independent India wishes to celebrate.

The history of Partition also contains several unresolved anomalies. It has often been argued that, during the negotiations surrounding Partition, there were proposals involving the exchange of major educational institutions, including Aligarh Muslim University and Lahore's DAV College, although these proposals never materialised. Likewise, questions continue to be raised regarding the minority character of institutions such as Aligarh Muslim University and Jamia Millia Islamia, particularly because members of Scheduled Castes who belong to non-minority communities do not receive reservation benefits in these institutions.

It is also noteworthy that Nawab Mohammad Ismail Khan, a prominent Muslim League leader associated with the demand for Pakistan, chose to remain in India after Partition and subsequently served as the first Vice-Chancellor of Aligarh Muslim University in independent India, although all his three sons shifted to Pakistan and enjoyed very high positions in that country. Similarly, a number of Muslims who had migrated to Pakistan later returned and reclaimed their properties in India. These historical developments continue to influence public debate about the legacy of Partition and the manner in which independent India remembers that era.

In my opinion, while personalities such as Maulana Mohammad Ali Jauhar should undoubtedly remain part of India's historical discourse, public institutions and monuments bearing their names warrant a fresh and objective review. Independent India should reserve such honours for individuals whose contributions unequivocally strengthened national unity, constitutional values, and social harmony.

A Misplaced Critique: Why Justice Ujjal Bhuyan’s Observations Miss the Mark

 

Supreme Court Justice Ujjal Bhuyan’s recent remarks at the Justice G.P. Singh Memorial Lecture in Bhopal are, regrettably, neither legally sound nor logically acceptable. Expressing concern over the alleged criminalisation of "normal activities," he criticised what he termed a disproportionate police response to youths organising an Iftar and consuming chicken on a boat on the Ganga River. Questioning their arrest and subsequent three-month denial of bail, he argued that "there is no law prohibiting the consumption of chicken over the Ganga."

With the utmost respect to the honourable judge, I must strongly beg to differ. I wish to draw attention to Section 196 of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), which addresses the offence of promoting enmity between different groups on the grounds of religion, race, place of birth, or residence. Criminal liability hinges on two foundational elements: mens rea (guilty intent) and actus reus (guilty act). In this incident, both elements undeniably coexisted. The actions of these individuals on the Ganges were not benign; they constituted a deliberate offence.

In a communally sensitive atmosphere, choosing to break a religious fast by consuming meat on the Ganga—a river revered as profoundly sacred by the majority of the country—was a calculated act of provocation. This was not a simple dietary choice; it was a brazen affront designed to mock and deliberately hurt the religious sentiments of the majority community in a deeply venerated space.

It is unfortunate that instead of commending the authorities for their timely intervention—which likely prevented the situation from spiralling out of control—the honourable judge chose to criticise them. The BNS clearly stipulates that committing an offence in a place of worship or during religious ceremonies carries a penalty of up to five years of imprisonment, alongside a fine. By consuming chicken and discarding the waste directly into the holy river, the intent of these miscreants to foment unrest was glaringly clear.

 

Protests at Jantar Mantar were bound to collapse

 From day one, it was a foregone conclusion that the Jantar Mantar movement was bound to fail, as it was taken over by lumpen elements, transgenders, and loose girls spitting indecent abuse. It was an open secret that the so-called movement was foreign-funded, as the meals distributed at the protest site were ordered from Germany, the US, and Dubai. Now, with the resignation of Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan, there is nothing left, and most of them have already dispersed. The number of students participating in the protest was negligible, as they had already seen through the politics of some Aandolanjivis. Many faces appear only during some or other agitation.

What was most disturbing was that these protestors were crossing all the limits of obscenity during the demonstrations. There was one demonstrator who was seen flashing his private part, and many lumpen girls were seen indulging in vulgar dance. What was all the more condemnable was the misbehaviour towards media persons. They were abused and molested.

Even Sonam Wangchuk, who had brought some energy to the protests, has disowned the CJP movement. One may recall that the day Deepake returned from the US and sought permission from the Delhi police to hold a protest at Jantar Mantar, he was readily granted permission, but there were not a dozen persons with them. It was Mr Wangchuk who brought some Ladakhis to give it the look of a protest.

The real drama began to unfold when some political parties brought their own supporters to participate in the march, and they started pulling the protests in their own directions. Rahul Gandhi, who looks like a dry drug addict, changed the venue from Jantar Mantar to a high-security zone near the PM residence. Others like Akhilesh Yadav, who is totally bereft of any ideas, were clueless about the protests. Persons like Kejriwal were trying to hijack, but Dipake and his company opposed them. Thus, the protest was rudderless from the beginning. However, if the Delhi police is not allowed to take any action against the lumpen elements, it will send a bad message to law-abiding citizens and among law-enforcing agencies.

Experts will have to devise ways to Prevent Unruly Ruckus in Courtrooms

The deplorable drama witnessed yesterday, i.e. Friday, in the Supreme Court courtroom defies all logic in the functioning of the court. Nobody has a ready-made answer to how such sordid scenes can be averted. There is no doubt that both judges on the bench have a high reputation for commendable behaviour, and the way the petitioner-in-person presented his case in court appeared to be mentally deranged. In a short span of a few months, such incidents have occurred twice in the Supreme Court, and if steps are not taken to prevent them, they are bound to occur elsewhere as well.

The petitioner-in-person is said to be an advocate by training. Earlier, the person who attempted to hurl shoes at the then CJI, Justice Gawai, was also an advocate. We have been watching such incidents in Parliament, Assemblies, hospitals and other areas of public life, but courts have been largely free from such unruly behaviour. Heated arguments have certainly taken place between lawyers and judges elsewhere, but no one can blame either lawyers or judges alone. Both have been responsible in their own way; however, what happened yesterday was unprecedented.

In fact, the courts and other experts will have to jointly think over devising ways to prevent the occurrence of such incidents

Appointment of a Dalit as the General Secretary of Ram Janmabhoomi Nyas Must Be Welcomed

 The appointment of Shri Krishna Mohan, a member of the Dalit community, as the Chief Executive Officer of the Ram Janmabhoomi Trust in Ayodhya deserves to be wholeheartedly welcomed. He succeeds Shri Champat Rai Bansal in overseeing the administration of the grand Shri Ram Temple, one of the most significant religious and cultural projects in independent India.

This appointment also serves as a powerful response to the politics of caste symbolism. Those who repeatedly invoke the slogan of "PDA" while claiming to champion the cause of the marginalised now find their narrative seriously weakened. Shri Akhilesh Yadav and his party have long relied on caste-based political mobilisation in Uttar Pradesh. Yet the decision of the Nyas demonstrates that genuine social inclusion is achieved through meaningful responsibility and leadership, not merely through electoral rhetoric. Despite projecting himself as a modern, educated leader, Shri Yadav too often reduces public discourse to narrow caste calculations, exposing the hollowness of his claims.

The contribution of Shri Champat Rai to the construction and management of the grand Ram Temple is beyond dispute. His dedication and administrative ability have earned him widespread respect across the country and abroad. Many facilities available to devotees today—including wheelchairs for the elderly and differently abled, well-organised pilgrim services, and free darshan for all—reflect the vision and commitment of the Nyas. In several respects, these arrangements compare favourably even with those at some of India's most prominent temples.

It is, therefore, both unfortunate and puzzling that attempts are now being made to cast aspersions on the temple administration over allegations relating to donation receipts. In most temples across India, devotees make offerings as an act of faith without expecting formal receipts for every contribution. Any genuine complaint should, of course, be examined fairly. Still, it is equally important that speculation and politically motivated campaigns do not undermine the credibility of an institution built through the sacrifices and devotion of millions.

There is an old belief in the Awadh region that Ayodhya has never spared even the noblest of its inhabitants from controversy. Since the time of Lord Shri Ram and Mata Sita, great personalities associated with this sacred city have faced trials, criticism, and allegations despite their virtue. It is therefore reasonable to expect that a selfless individual like Shri Champat Rai will emerge with his integrity intact after any fair and impartial inquiry.

Ayodhya, once neglected for centuries, has today been transformed into a city of pride and spiritual grandeur. A substantial share of the credit belongs to Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath, whose leadership, together with the Ram Janmabhumi Nyas, has restored the city's historical and civilizational glory. This transformation will be remembered for generations. Those who seek to exploit controversies for political gain or create unnecessary discord around this sacred project may earn temporary headlines, but history is unlikely to judge them kindly.

 

Hopefully, the Indo-Bangladesh border will soon be fenced

 One shudders to think about the situation in West Bengal if Mamata Banerjee had again returned to power. Lawlessness and goondaism would have gone beyond imagination. The way Bangladeshi intruders occupied the streets and roads, and nobody had the guts to speak against them because the administration of Mamata Banerjee was always there to stand by the lawbreakers.

The fencing of the Indo-Bangladesh border could not be carried out because there was no local administrative support. The Bangladeshi intruders are now creating hurdles in fencing off the borders.

As a result of the porous border, cattle smuggling and other problems have crept up in India. The total length of the Indo–Bangladesh border in West Bengal is 22,17 km, out of which 1648 km has already been covered by a fence. With the change of government in West Bengal, it is hoped that the rest of the border will soon be fenced.

The way protest marches were taken out on the renaming of Suhrawardy Street after Gopal Prasad Mukherji, who was also known as Gopal Patha, the Hindu leader of pre-partition India, who saved thousands of Hindu men, women and children, is a matter of shame. Some people say the street was not named after the killer Suhrawardy, who later became the Prime Minister of Pakistan, but after his nephew, who happened to be the Vice Chancellor of Calcutta University. The moot question is why the name of any Suhrawardy should be there in any form?

What is more tragic is that the TMC has not expressed any regret so far over this situation in West Bengal, for which it is directly responsible. It is expected that the border will be fenced sooner rather than later, making the lives of the people and the security of the country safer.

 

 

 

 

Refusal of Lawters body to take up any case is unjustifed

 Disturbing reports from Ayodhya indicate that the district's legal fraternity has resolved not to represent individuals accused of misappropriating donations made to the Ram Mandir. If the allegations are true, the alleged theft of devotees' offerings is unquestionably reprehensible, and those responsible should be punished in accordance with the law. However, how can a body of lawyers effectively treat an accused person as guilty even before a court has conducted a trial?

The lawyers' association has adopted this position as a mark of protest against the alleged misappropriation of temple donations. It has reportedly also warned that any advocate who appears on behalf of the accused will face a penalty of ₹5 lakh.

In addition, the association has demanded that prominent temple trust functionaries, including Champat Rai and Anil Mishra, leave Ayodhya, failing which it has threatened to blockade the entire city. This collective boycott has reignited an important constitutional debate about every accused person's right to legal representation and a fair trial.

Indian law, including the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita, recognises the right of every accused person to be represented by a lawyer. Where an accused is unable to engage or afford legal counsel, legal assistance is available through the Legal Services Authorities constituted under the Legal Services Authorities Act, 1987.

The right to legal representation does not imply innocence. Rather, it ensures that guilt or innocence is determined through a fair, impartial, and lawful judicial process. Indian courts have consistently affirmed that the legal profession exists to serve the administration of justice, not to reflect public outrage or popular sentiment. Representing an accused person is not an endorsement of the alleged crime.

Although an advocate may exercise personal discretion in accepting a brief, the legal framework of India is unequivocal: every accused person, irrespective of the nature of the allegations, is entitled to competent legal representation and a meaningful opportunity to defend themselves before a court of law.

An advocate's foremost duty is to uphold the rule of law, which rests on the fundamental principle that every person is presumed innocent until proven guilty. The presumption of innocence is a cornerstone of criminal jurisprudence and remains intact until a competent court records a conviction after a fair trial.

Indeed, even when a lawyer personally believes, or is aware, that a client may have committed an offence, professional ethics require the lawyer to provide competent, diligent, and fearless representation within the bounds of the law. A lawyer's duty is not to determine guilt, but to ensure that justice is administered through due process and that the constitutional guarantees of a fair trial are preserved for every individual.

Law without morality is a body without a soul

It is often said that “law without morality is a body without a soul.” The maxim suggests that what is legally permissible may not always be morally acceptable, and what is morally objectionable may not necessarily amount to a legal wrong. In a recent judgment, the Punjab and Haryana High Court held that a married woman meeting her former partner on a single occasion, even in a compromising situation, cannot automatically be treated as proof of adultery.

The case arose from a matrimonial dispute involving an Indian Navy officer who alleged that his wife refused to share a bed with him and continued to maintain a relationship with her former boyfriend after marriage. The Family Court granted a decree of divorce on the ground of mental cruelty. However, while considering the allegations of adultery, the High Court observed that a solitary incident was insufficient to establish that the wife was living in an adulterous relationship. The Court reiterated that adultery is a serious allegation and must be proved through cogent, convincing, and continuous evidence rather than through suspicion, assumptions, or isolated encounters.

Learned trial court, in its rightful wisdom, also observed that the conduct of the respondent-wife in meeting her male friend, being a single incident, cannot be said to indicate that she was living in adultery with him. The marriage had taken place in November 2021, and no child was born from the union. The husband alleged that his wife was quarrelsome, frequently returned home late, refused to share a bed with him, and spent long hours on her mobile phone talking to other people. The wife denied these allegations and, in turn, accused the husband and his family of subjecting her to dowry-related harassment. She further alleged that her father-in-law had improper intentions towards her and that her husband failed to support her when she complained about his conduct.

The Family Court found serious inconsistencies in the wife's version of events. It was observed that her allegation against her father-in-law appeared improbable, particularly because she continued to communicate with him despite claiming that he had improper intentions towards her. On that basis, the court treated her allegations with caution.

Judgments of the High Courts and the Supreme Court serve as precedents that guide the adjudication of future cases involving similar issues. Therefore, judicial pronouncements often have implications extending beyond the parties before the court. One has reasons to disagree with the High Court's approach and argue that matrimonial fidelity occupies a special place in Indian society, particularly among Hindus, where marriage is regarded not merely as a contract but as a sacrament. From this perspective, the vows exchanged during marriage represent solemn commitments that courts should seek to uphold in order to preserve mutual trust and confidence between spouses.

Others may contend that courts must distinguish between moral disapproval and legal proof. They may argue that a finding of adultery should rest on clear and convincing evidence rather than conjecture, however strong the suspicions may be. The maxim Fiat justitia ruat caelum.Let justice be done though the heavens fall is the most appropriate in this case. The debate, therefore, lies at the intersection of law, morality, and the institution of marriage—a field in which courts are often required to balance legal standards of proof with prevailing social and moral expectations. That the judges have thus "made a mockery of the law by keeping the tradition and morality at bay. Oliver Wendell Holmes had said that” The life of the law has not been logic; it has been experience."

Time to Replace the Press Council of India with a Media Council(Concluding Part)

The limitations of the Council are not merely jurisdictional. It is often criticised for lacking effective enforcement powers. Its authority is confined largely to issuing warnings, admonitions, or censures. It cannot impose meaningful penalties, levy fines, suspend operations, or enforce compliance with its decisions. Consequently, many of its rulings are ignored, reducing its effectiveness and diminishing its relevance.

Moreover, the rise of corporate ownership, concentration of media power, paid news, advertorial masquerading as journalism, and growing ideological polarisation have transformed the media environment in ways that the existing statutory framework is ill-equipped to address. Political considerations and institutional constraints have frequently undermined the Council's credibility and capacity to act as an independent regulator.

In the digital era, the regulatory focus has increasingly shifted toward the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting and various rules framed under the Information Technology Act. These mechanisms now address much of the content regulation relating to digital and broadcast media, further marginalising the role of the Press Council.

Adding to its diminishing relevance is the fact that the Working Journalists Act, one of the principal legislative pillars recommended by the First Press Commission, has effectively been subsumed within the new labour codes, including the Occupational Safety, Health and Working Conditions Code, the Industrial Relations Code, the Code on Wages, and the Code on Social Security. With the dilution and fragmentation of the original statutory framework governing journalists' service conditions, one of the historical justifications for the existence of the Press Council has substantially weakened.

The time has therefore come for a fundamental reappraisal of media regulation in India. Rather than attempting to retrofit an institution designed for the print era, Parliament should consider replacing the Press Council of India with a comprehensive Media Council of India. Such a body should encompass print, electronic, digital, and emerging forms of media under a single regulatory framework. It must be independent of both governmental and corporate influence, representative of diverse stakeholders, and vested with limited but meaningful enforcement powers to ensure accountability.

A Media Council equipped with adequate statutory authority, transparent procedures, and jurisdiction across all media platforms would be better suited to protect freedom of expression while promoting responsibility, accuracy, ethical conduct, and public trust. In an age where information travels instantly across multiple platforms and reaches millions within seconds, India requires a regulator designed for the realities of the twenty-first century, not one conceived for the media environment of the 1950s. Media Council must be constituted with the peers of the profession.

The Press Council of India played an important role in the formative decades of Indian democracy. Its historical contribution deserves recognition and respect. However, institutions must evolve with changing times. The continued existence of a body whose jurisdiction and powers are increasingly inadequate serves neither the media nor the public interest. The moment is ripe to bid farewell to the Press Council of India and establish a robust, modern, and effective Media Council capable of meeting the challenges of the contemporary information age.

Time to Replace the Press Council of India with a Media Council (Part1)

The Press Council of India (PCI) owes its origin to the recommendations of the First Press Commission, constituted in 1952 under the chairmanship of Justice G. S. Rajadhyaksha. The Commission was entrusted with examining the condition of the Indian press in the post-Independence era and recommending measures to safeguard press freedom, uphold editorial standards, and improve the service conditions of journalists. Acting on its recommendations, Parliament enacted the Press Council Act, leading to the establishment of the Press Council of India in 1966 as an autonomous statutory body.

The Constitution of India, the supreme law of the land, lays down the framework of governance, guarantees fundamental rights, and embodies the democratic values that sustain a free and independent press. Although freedom of the press is not expressly mentioned in the Constitution, it has been consistently recognised by the judiciary as an integral part of the fundamental right to freedom of speech and expression under Article 19(1)(a).

Before Independence, newspapers that supported the colonial government—such as The Statesman, The Pioneer, and The Times of India—generally enjoyed better resources and institutional support. In contrast, nationalist newspapers operated under severe constraints and often faced governmental hostility. Journalism during that period was largely a mission driven by patriotism and public service rather than a commercial profession. It was only after Independence that journalism gradually evolved into a recognised profession requiring institutional support and regulation.

Recognising this need, the country's first leadership contemplated the establishment of a Press Commission. Although Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, who also held charge of the Information and Broadcasting portfolio, did not live to see the proposal materialise, the idea eventually culminated in the constitution of the First Press Commission in 1952, which was announced by the then Information and Broadcasting Minister BV Keskar.

At that time, the media landscape was confined almost entirely to the print press. Electronic journalism, as we know it today, did not exist; radio broadcasting remained a government monopoly. Consequently, the Commission focused primarily on print journalism and made two landmark recommendations.

The first was the enactment of the Working Journalists (Conditions of Service) and Miscellaneous Provisions Act, 1955, which established a framework for protecting journalists' service conditions and paved the way for tripartite Wage Boards to revise journalists' wages periodically. The second was the creation of the Press Council of India, envisioned as an independent watchdog to preserve press freedom, maintain journalistic standards, formulate ethical norms, and safeguard the public's right to information.

The Council was abolished during the Emergency in 1976, a period widely regarded as one of the darkest chapters in the history of Indian journalism. However, it was reconstituted in 1978 with a renewed mandate to ensure that the press remained both free and responsible in a democratic society.

Over the decades, however, the media ecosystem has undergone a transformation of unprecedented magnitude. The emergence of television news, digital journalism, online publications, streaming platforms, and social media has fundamentally altered the manner in which information is produced, disseminated, and consumed. Print media, once the dominant medium of public discourse, now occupies only one segment of a vastly expanded communications landscape.

Yet the Press Council of India remains largely confined to the print sector. It possesses no jurisdiction over television channels, digital news platforms, streaming services, or social media networks—precisely the spaces where misinformation, disinformation, sensationalism, and ethical violations increasingly originate and proliferate. As a result, the institution has gradually become disconnected from the realities of contemporary media.

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Whose ancestors had left Hinduism must be encouraged to reconnect

 All religious and social organisations, as well as NGOs, can render a valuable service to society by working to eliminate social evils and by encouraging those whose ancestors had left Hinduism to reconnect with their ancestral traditions if they so choose

Recently, Pakistan's Defence Minister, Khwaja Asif, candidly acknowledged that his ancestors were Hindu Rajputs. In an interview, he said that Pakistani students should be taught factual history and that many people in the country have become disconnected from their historical roots. Those whose ancestors had left Hinduism must be encouraged to reconnect. According to Asif, many Pakistanis have been led to believe that their ancestors came from Saudi Arabia or Iran. He argued that this mindset was deliberately cultivated through school textbooks and criticised those who prepared such material. Elaborating further, he pointed out that both he and former Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif had openly acknowledged their Hindu ancestry. He also remarked that studying Ashoka, Chandragupta Maurya, Buddhism, Jainism and the Greeks in school does not make him any less Pakistani.

The immediate context of these remarks was the restoration of old names of streets and localities in Lahore, along with a wider discussion on history and identity. In Pakistan, organisations of Muslim Rajputs continue to exist, and many Rajput families prefer marriages within their own caste groups, thereby maintaining endogamous traditions. Similarly, in Kashmir, many Muslims continue to use surnames such as Bhatt and Malik, which have historical associations with Hindu society. Several decades ago, senior political leader Ghulam Nabi Azad stated that his forefathers had been Hindu Brahmins.

A similar pattern can be observed in parts of eastern Uttar Pradesh. In districts such as Azamgarh, Mau, Ghazipur, Jaunpur and Sultanpur, many Muslim families retain certain cultural practices and customs that reflect their historical roots. These continuities illustrate the complex and layered social history of the region.

Not long ago, prominent Muslim leader and Unani physician Dr Tasleem Ahmad Rehmani stated that his grandfather had been a Jain and that several members of his extended family continued to follow Jain traditions.

These examples highlight the fact that the histories of communities in the Indian subcontinent are deeply interconnected. Different religious communities often share common ancestry, cultural practices and historical experiences. Swami Dayanand Saraswati believed that many social and communal problems could be reduced if people recognised their shared heritage and strengthened social reform efforts. Whether one agrees with that view or not, an honest understanding of history can contribute to greater social harmony and mutual understanding among the people of India, Pakistan and Bangladesh.

 

Communalists must have Respect for the Constitution

Recently, a video circulated on social media in which a YouTuber asked a Muslim labourer which train he intended to board. Instead of saying "Vande Bharat," the labourer repeatedly referred to it as "Gande Bharat." When the YouTuber asked him why he was deliberately mispronouncing the name, the labourer smiled and replied that he would always call it "Gande Bharat." Such conduct may perhaps be attributed to a person with little formal education.

However, prejudice and sectarian attitudes are not confined to the uneducated. I recall a highly educated teacher at Banaras Hindu University who habitually referred to Ramnagar, situated across the Ganges from the university, as "Nam Nagar." He would also offer Namaz in his office chamber on campus. Whenever some students objected to what they considered inappropriate conduct in an academic setting, several others, claiming to uphold secular values, would immediately come to his defence. This illustrates how communal attitudes can manifest in different forms and are often judged by different standards depending on the circumstances.

Against this backdrop, many people have criticised the Chief Minister of West Bengal for making the singing of the national song and national anthem compulsory in Madrasas. A letter issued on May 19 by the Director of Madrasa Education directed that "Vande Mataram" be sung before classes commence. It is difficult to understand why this should automatically be viewed through a Hindu-Muslim lens.

The Constitution empowers governments to frame educational policy. Since the 42nd Constitutional Amendment of 1976, education has been placed in the Concurrent List, meaning that both Parliament and the State Legislatures can enact laws on the subject. In the event of a direct conflict, central legislation prevails.

Unfortunately, Madrasas are often viewed by communal elements solely through the prism of religion, despite receiving support and facilities from the government like other educational institutions. The issue of national symbols and religious belief is not new. In 1985, a controversy arose in Kottayam, Kerala, when three schoolchildren belonging to the Jehovah's Witnesses faith refused to sing the national anthem, "Jana Gana Mana," during the school assembly. However, they stood respectfully while the anthem was being sung. Their religious belief was that they could not participate in acts that they regarded as a form of reverence to anyone other than God (Jehovah). The school expelled them, and the dispute eventually reached the courts.

The Kerala High Court initially upheld the expulsion. However, in 1986, the Supreme Court of India reversed that decision. The Court held that no law required an individual to sing the national anthem, that the children had shown no disrespect by standing respectfully, and that their expulsion violated their fundamental rights under Articles 19 and 25 of the Constitution relating to freedom of speech and freedom of religion.

Justice O. Chinnappa Reddy, who authored the judgment, was a born Christian who later became an atheist, emphasised an important constitutional principle: courts should not sit in judgment over whether a religious belief is reasonable or unreasonable. Their role is to protect the constitutional freedoms guaranteed to all citizens, provided public order, morality, and other constitutional limitations are not violated.

Lacklustre Demonstration of the so-called Gen Z at Jantar Mantar

 

The demonstration by the newly formed and much-publicised Cockroach Janata Party (CJP) yesterday at Jantar Mantar was a total flop.  Hardly a few hundred people participated, which included supporters and opponents, police personnel, and onlookers who were there only to watch and enjoy. There was practically no presence of Gen Z in the demonstration. Many professional agitators and protesters certainly reached Jantar Mantar, but they received a very lukewarm, if not a cold, reception.  Undoubtedly, it will cause further frustration among the youth of the country.

Such demonstrations are political and sponsored by some vested interests. Since it was aimed at denouncing the Modi government, it was clear that forces against the Modi government were active in organising this protest. The arrival of the US-based Mr Abhijeet Deepke at Indira Gandhi International Airport in New Delhi was drummed up as if he were a revolutionary of any kind.

 The word " cockroach " was lapped up by this gentleman from a remark made by the Chief Justice of India, Shri Suryakant, during the hearing of the case, which was drafted and presented in a very non-serious manner. This also shows that this high-bred American Deepke has no respect for the people of the country. Let us see how it unfolds in the future, but going by Saturday’s demonstration, it can be said that it fizzled out and did not inspire any confidence in Gen Z.

Not Vacating Office or Residence After Losing Power Is Indefensible

A disturbing trend appears to be emerging among some politicians who, after being voted out of office, show reluctance to abide by the rules and conventions governing the relinquishment of power and official privileges. In a democracy, respect for the people's mandate requires not only accepting electoral defeat but also gracefully surrendering the offices, residences, and privileges attached to power.

Two examples that attracted public attention are those of Mamata Banerjee and Rabri Devi, both former Chief Ministers of their respective states. The country witnessed an unprecedented constitutional situation when Mamata Banerjee, despite losing the Assembly election, did not immediately relinquish office. Ultimately, the Governor had to intervene and administer the oath to the new Chief Minister. Such incidents undermine democratic norms and set an unhealthy precedent.

The conduct of Rabri Devi and her husband, Lalu Prasad Yadav, who together dominated Bihar's politics for nearly one and a half decades, has also raised serious questions. Rabri Devi is presently the Leader of the Opposition in the Bihar Legislative Council, while her son, Tejashwi Yadav, serves as the Leader of the Opposition in the Bihar Legislative Assembly.

Rabri Devi has been residing at 10 Circular Road, Patna, since demitting the office of Chief Minister in 2006. However, in November 2025, the Bihar Government earmarked and formally allotted 39 Hardinge Road as the official residence of the Leader of the Opposition in the Legislative Council. Since she has already been provided an official residence in her current capacity, there appears to be little justification for continuing to occupy a bungalow that has since been allotted to a serving minister.

The issue assumes greater significance in light of the Patna High Court's 2019 judgment striking down the policy that allowed former Chief Ministers to retain government bungalows indefinitely. The court made it clear that such residences are public property meant for current constitutional and public functionaries, not for the lifetime use of former office-holders. While the government has honoured Rabri Devi's entitlement by allotting her an alternative official residence, her insistence on retaining the same bungalow risks conveying the wrong message. Rather than challenging the government to evict her, it would be far more appropriate to resolve the matter amicably and in accordance with the law.

This is not the first time that questions have been raised about the conduct of former holders of high office. When Akhilesh Yadav vacated the official residence of the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh, he was accused of removing fixtures and causing damage to the property, drawing widespread criticism in the media.

The larger question is why some individuals who have occupied the highest public offices find it difficult to observe the very rules and conventions that they once administered. Public office carries not only authority but also the responsibility to set an example. A graceful exit after the loss of power strengthens democratic institutions; resistance to it weakens public faith in them. Whatever the political affiliation of the individuals concerned, refusal to vacate official residences or relinquish official privileges after their entitlement has ceased is difficult to defend from any perspective.

Some Changes Brought by the Modi Government Are No Less Than Revolutionary

 The Modi government has ushered in several transformational changes over the past twelve years from the perspective of ordinary citizens.

The first major change is that young men and women from modest backgrounds no longer have to run from pillar to post to get their documents attested by gazetted officers. Earlier, they often had to visit government offices or even the homes of officials, and many were compelled to pay small bribes to peons or staff members merely to have their documents signed and verified. This not only wasted the time of the youth but also that of the officers and their staff. Prime Minister Narendra Modi ended this cumbersome practice through an announcement made from the ramparts of the Red Fort (Lal Quila).

The second significant step was the opening of zero-balance bank accounts for the poorest sections of society without burdensome paperwork. Instead of forcing poor citizens to repeatedly visit bank branches, bank officials themselves reached out to them. At the time, the initiative was ridiculed by critics and political opponents, but it ultimately brought millions of underprivileged people into the formal banking system.

The third major reform is the Direct Benefit Transfer (DBT) scheme, under which lakhs of beneficiaries now receive government assistance directly into their bank accounts. In the past, a substantial portion of welfare funds meant for the poor was siphoned off by middlemen and corrupt officials. Today, however, the money reaches the intended beneficiaries directly, ensuring transparency and minimising leakages.

Long queues of pensioners outside bank counters during the first week of every month were once a distressing ordeal for elderly citizens. For many senior citizens, standing for hours to collect their pensions was nothing short of traumatic. However, thanks to the DBT system, much of this hardship has disappeared, as pension amounts are now credited directly into their bank accounts. One only needs to speak to pensioners to understand the immense relief and convenience this reform has brought to their lives.

Another landmark initiative has been the construction of household toilets, popularly referred to as “Izzatghars,” which has brought about a social revolution, especially in rural India. Chaudhary Charan Singh, when he was the Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh, once remarked at a public gathering that he avoided travelling by road in the evenings because roadsides were lined with people defecating in the open. One could imagine the hardship faced by newly married women in villages, particularly if they suffered from illness during the daytime. The construction of toilets has therefore provided dignity, safety, and immense relief to rural women, many of whom remain deeply grateful for this change.

Digital payments, too, have emerged as a technological revolution, and much of the credit for their widespread adoption goes to Modi. When digital payment apps were first introduced, several self-styled economists and opposition leaders mocked the initiative. Today, however, even small shopkeepers, artisans, and daily-wage workers use digital transactions with ease. Their countless small payments collectively amount to thousands of crores of rupees every day, serving as a fitting response to those who once dismissed the idea.