In my view, one of the gravest dangers confronting Indian democracy today is not merely corruption, political confrontation, or institutional friction. Democracies are designed to withstand all that. The real danger begins when institutions entrusted with protecting constitutional morality themselves begin attracting public suspicion. Once that happens, public confidence starts eroding rapidly, and the vacuum created by institutional silence inevitably gets filled by aggressive public discourse, media scrutiny, and what critics dismiss as “media trials.”
The recent controversies involving members of the judiciary have once again reopened an uncomfortable but unavoidable debate. Allegations surrounding a judge in the so-called “cash-burning” controversy, and separately, the shocking accusations involving a former judge in a dowry death-related case in Madhya Pradesh, have raised serious questions in the public domain. It is important to underline here that allegations remain allegations until proven in accordance with law. Every accused person is entitled to due process, legal defence, and the presumption of innocence. That constitutional principle cannot be compromised.
However, it is equally true that constitutional positions cannot become shields against public scrutiny.
In my view, the frustration visible across sections of society today is not directed merely at individuals. It stems from a growing perception that institutions have become slow, insulated, and occasionally reluctant to subject their own members to the same standards expected from ordinary citizens.
The Indian Constitution was crafted around a delicate architecture of checks and balances. The Legislature was empowered to make laws. The Executive was entrusted with implementing them. The Judiciary was expected to interpret them independently and impartially. Each pillar was designed to prevent excesses by the others.
But what happens when citizens begin feeling that all three pillars are failing simultaneously?
That is the uncomfortable question India is confronting today.
There was a time when the Judiciary emerged as the ultimate hope precisely because the Legislature and Executive were often accused of excesses, corruption, and political manipulation. Particularly after the Emergency era, the higher judiciary asserted itself strongly, sometimes rightly, in defence of civil liberties and constitutional safeguards. Judicial activism gained public support because citizens believed elected governments had failed to uphold democratic principles.
In many cases, the judiciary played a historic role in strengthening accountability. Yet, in my view, the line between judicial activism and judicial overreach gradually became blurred. Courts increasingly entered domains traditionally reserved for elected governments and lawmakers. Simultaneously, the opaque system of judicial appointments, where judges effectively played the dominant role in selecting judges, also began attracting criticism from legal scholars and constitutional experts.
This debate is neither new nor anti-judiciary. In fact, many former judges themselves have publicly expressed concerns over opacity, pendency, influence networks, and declining institutional credibility.
The crisis, however, did not emerge overnight.
In my view, one of the turning points in India’s democratic evolution came during the tenure of former Chief Election Commissioner T. N. Seshan. At a time when booth capturing, voter intimidation, and electoral malpractice were rampant, Seshan attempted to discipline the political class through aggressive electoral reforms. He demonstrated how a constitutional office could assert itself fearlessly.
That phase fundamentally altered institutional dynamics in India. The Executive, Legislature, Election Commission, and Judiciary increasingly began testing the boundaries of their respective powers. Over the decades, the friction between constitutional institutions only intensified.
Meanwhile, the media itself underwent dramatic transformation.
The traditional Indian media landscape, in my view, suffered enormous damage due to political ownership, corporate influence, selective activism, and ideological alignments. Many media organisations ceased behaving like watchdogs and instead became extensions of political or commercial power centres. Public trust declined sharply.
Yet, parallelly, a new genre of aggressive broadcast journalism emerged, led prominently by Arnab Goswami and Republic TV. Critics may dislike his tone, methods, or confrontational style. Many do. But one cannot deny that his model of relentless pursuit-driven journalism altered the national media discourse.
In my view, the rise of such journalism was not accidental. It was a direct consequence of institutional delays and public frustration.
When investigations slow down, when influential accused persons appear insulated, when cases drag endlessly, and when ordinary citizens feel powerless, the media inevitably steps into the vacuum. That vacuum then transforms journalism from reporting into activism.
One may disagree with the methods. One may question the theatrics. But the underlying cause behind such aggressive journalism cannot be ignored.
Take the recent Madhya Pradesh case involving allegations surrounding a former judge and her family. The matter gained national attention largely because of relentless media focus. Questions were repeatedly raised about alleged procedural irregularities, delayed actions, disappearance of key accused persons, and possible misuse of influence. Eventually, investigative agencies intensified action, further legal proceedings followed, and the matter escalated into a wider public debate.
Again, it is essential to reiterate: guilt must only be determined by courts after proper trial. Media discussions cannot substitute judicial verdicts. But public scrutiny often becomes the pressure point that prevents sensitive matters from being quietly buried.
That distinction is crucial.
The phrase “media trial” is frequently used pejoratively. Certainly, reckless reporting, defamation, and prejudicial commentary can be dangerous. The media must remain within constitutional and legal boundaries. Journalists are not judges. Studios are not courts. Public outrage cannot become evidence.
Yet, in my view, there is an equally dangerous opposite extreme — expecting the media to remain silent while institutions appear inactive or compromised.
Democracy cannot function on blind faith alone. Accountability requires scrutiny. Scrutiny creates discomfort. And discomfort is often necessary for institutional correction.
Even in sports administration, one witnesses similar patterns. Allegations relating to corruption, conflict of interest, irregular appointments, favouritism, and a “pay-to-play” culture in cricket administration have repeatedly surfaced across various state associations, including the Hyderabad Cricket Association (HCA). In several such cases, smaller independent platforms and whistleblowers have often sustained public scrutiny when larger media houses initially chose silence.
Your e-paper, Orangenews9, has consistently highlighted several issues concerning HCA functioning, and over time, other media organisations too have begun reporting on similar concerns, like Republic TV in some other cases. The objective of such fact-based media exposure is not sensationalism, but to compel concerned institutions — including the Board of Control for Cricket in India and relevant state authorities — to examine complaints and ensure accountability.
Unfortunately, investigations, departmental inquiries, and court proceedings often move at a painfully slow pace. As a result, whistleblowers and smaller media platforms frequently continue pursuing such matters for years in the larger public interest.
This is precisely why independent journalism, despite all its flaws, remains indispensable.
In my view, the real solution is not suppressing media scrutiny but strengthening institutional credibility. Courts must deliver timely justice. Investigative agencies must act fearlessly, irrespective of status. Political executives must avoid selective responses. Media organisations, too, must maintain ethical discipline and factual integrity.
Most importantly, constitutional offices must not merely demand public trust — they must continuously earn it.
Because once institutions stop inspiring confidence, public suspicion takes over. And when public suspicion grows, aggressive media scrutiny becomes not merely unavoidable, but inevitable.
That is the harsh reality Indian democracy must confront today.
