In a curious twist this past week, the Supreme Court of India stayed Enforcement Directorate (ED) action against Tamil Nadu’s state-run liquor monopoly, TASMAC. What stood out was not just the stay itself, but the sharp rebuke delivered by Chief Justice B.R. Gavai. “Your ED is crossing all limits,” he remarked, questioning how a criminal offence could be lodged against a government-run corporation.
At first glance, this may seem like a defense of due process. But scratch the surface, and a deeper, more troubling precedent is taking shape—one that threatens to put a protective ring around corruption in public institutions under the guise of institutional immunity.
TASMAC is not some innocuous government arm handing out subsidies. It is a Rs 40,000 crore liquor behemoth, riddled with allegations of large-scale kickbacks and illegal commissions. The ED’s probe sought to unravel money laundering in liquor tenders linked to private players and politicians. Yet, the apex court questioned the very locus of such an investigation. Can a corporation, the court asked, be criminally liable?
The answer is: absolutely yes.
Indian law does not grant blanket immunity to government bodies or corporations, state-owned or private. The Supreme Court itself has in previous judgments, held that a “juridical person” such as a corporation can be prosecuted for criminal offences, including under the Prevention of Money Laundering Act (PMLA). The ED had only named officials and entities allegedly involved, not the TASMAC board as a sentient actor. So, where’s the overreach?
More importantly, the Madras High Court had earlier allowed the ED investigation to proceed. The Supreme Court’s sudden and diametrically opposite stance raises a pressing issue: Is legal interpretation now governed by ideology, lobbying, or courtroom theatrics? Are we witnessing a growing chasm between constitutional clarity and judicial subjectivity?
This is not an isolated incident.
Earlier, the Supreme Court allowed interim bail to former Delhi Chief Minister Arvind Kejriwal, facing serious allegations in the Delhi liquor scam, on the grounds of election campaigning. It’s a rationale unheard of in criminal jurisprudence. Campaigning is not a fundamental right; justice is not meant to be paused for politics. Yet, that’s exactly what happened.
Then came the ruling by Justice Rajiv Shakdher and Justice Ravindra Bhat, which curtailed the discretionary powers of Governors in withholding state bills—effectively rewriting constitutional provisions that had hitherto allowed checks and balances between elected governments and constitutional heads.
Now, under CJI Gavai, the apex court has restrained the ED, a statutory body tasked with probing complex financial crimes, in the name of shielding a government-run entity from “criminal” liability.
What message does this send?
That elected leaders and public servants may hide behind the cloak of the State to evade prosecution? That financial malfeasance in government bodies is immune to central scrutiny if politically inconvenient?
The judiciary, once hailed as the final guardian of public interest, increasingly appears to be wading into dangerous waters. It is no longer just interpreting the law—it is shaping policy, diluting accountability, and, some would argue, enabling systemic corruption.
There’s another worrying trend: the visible influence of high-profile lawyers like Kapil Sibal, Abhishek Manu Singhvi, and Mukul Rohatgi, who regularly represent tainted politicians or controversial governments. Their legal acumen is not in question. But their repeated success in swinging judgments in politically sensitive cases raises eyebrows. The optics matter—especially when their victories consistently benefit the same political formations, like the DMK or AAP.
Meanwhile, the ED, CBI, and Income Tax Department, when acting against opposition parties, are accused of being government tools. Yet, when courts strike down their action without addressing the core evidence, we risk neutering these institutions. India cannot have a system where corruption investigations are permitted only when politically palatable.
The irony is stark. While the Supreme Court claims the ED cannot investigate a state body, it routinely directs Governors and even the President—constitutional heads in their own right—to act within frameworks that appear crafted by judicial fiat, not by the Constitution.
At stake is not just the sanctity of law, but the moral contract between the State and the citizen. If the judiciary shields the corrupt, who holds power accountable?
It’s time for the courts to look inwards. The Constitution grants them enormous power, but also expects solemn responsibility. The rule of law must not be sacrificed at the altar of convenience, political correctness, or elite persuasion.
India deserves better.
