In no other democracy would this absurdity be allowed to continue. In India, we have the spectacle of elected representatives—those who swear an oath to uphold the Constitution and participate in framing laws—parading into courtrooms the next morning to challenge, bend, or selectively interpret those very laws, often for private clients with vested interests. This is not merely unethical. It is a blatant conflict of interest, and its high time the Modi government legislated a complete ban on legislators practicing as advocates while in office. The case is open and shut. Articles 102(1)(a) and 191(1)(a) of the Constitution provide for the disqualification of Members of Parliament or State Legislatures for holding an “office of profit under the government.” While the Bar Council of India (BCI) technically treats advocacy as a profession and not an office of profit, this distinction collapses under real-world scrutiny. When a Rajya Sabha MP like Kapil Sibal or Abhishek Manu Singhvi—both former Congressmen—appear in court to challenge laws passed by Parliament, they are not acting as neutral legal minds. They are subverting the very legislative process they participated in. Take the ongoing challenge to the Waqf (Amendment) Act. Who are the lawyers representing the petitioners? The very MPs who sat in the House when the law was passed. What message does this send to the public? That the legislative floor just a rehearsal for a more lucrative performance in the courtroom? That the law a revolving door, not a solemn act of governance?
Senior lawyer Ashwini Upadhyay has rightly raised this issue in his recent video, questioning how lawmakers can switch robes to become litigators, especially when they defend communities or individuals resisting constitutional legislation. His query was met with shocking dismissiveness. When he challenged the 1995 Waqf Act, the then CJI DY Chandrachud reportedly told him to approach the state High Courts, instead of hearing the matter in the apex court, only for the same court to later entertain similar petitions filed by minority leaders. Worse still, this judicial double standard is enabled and amplified by the presence of legislators in legal robes. When laws are passed by the Parliament and receive the President’s assent, they are the will of the people, expressed through due process. For those same laws to be challenged in court by MPs who failed to prevent their passage in Parliament is an act of sabotage, not advocacy. This calls not just for legislative action, but for serious judicial introspection. When money bundles are allegedly found burned in the house of a sitting judge like Justice Yashwant Verma, and no inquiry is ordered, the rot runs deep. When judges show leniency or bias toward certain politically connected lawyers who are also legislators, the integrity of the judiciary itself is at stake. The time for polite debates is over. The government must act under Article 124(4) and Article 217(1)(b) to initiate impeachment proceedings against judges who betray their constitutional duties. Simultaneously, the Bar Council of India must amend its rules to prohibit elected representatives from practicing law during their tenure. And if the BCI won’t act, Parliament must override it with a statutory ban. Let us not forget: the principle of separation of powers is not decorative. It is the foundation of our Republic. Mixing the roles of legislator and litigator is not just unethical—it is corrosive. It erodes trust in lawmaking, the judiciary, and the Constitution itself. India cannot afford this dangerous cocktail of politics and legal manipulation any longer. Ban lawyer-legislators now.
