The Indian judiciary has prided itself as the sentinel of constitutional morality. But in recent times, certain actions—or inactions-by its own highest officers have raised disturbing questions about its integrity and accountability. The case involving Justice Yashwant Verma, a former judge of the Delhi High Court, has shocked the conscience of the public. Yet what is equally, if not more, troubling is the role of the former Chief Justice of India, Sanjiv Khanna.
Let us briefly recall the facts. Justice Verma, whose official residence was mysteriously gutted by fire, was allegedly hiding unaccounted cash on the premises. The fire incident led to the discovery of large sums of currency, suspected to be part of a larger racket involving judicial corruption. Instead of alerting the police to file an FIR—a basic duty in any criminal matter—then Chief Justice of India Sanjiv Khanna formed a three-member in-house panel. That panel found prima facie evidence of wrongdoing. Yet, no FIR. No CBI. No Enforcement Directorate. Just a request for Verma to resign. And when he refused, the matter was escalated to the President with a recommendation for impeachment.
Now, under Article 124(4) of the Constitution of India, a Supreme Court judge (and similarly under Article 217 read with 124(4) for High Court judges) can only be removed by Parliament through impeachment on grounds of proved misbehaviour or incapacity. That process is currently being sought for Justice Verma. But what about Rajiv Khanna? Shouldn’t we ask if his glaring failure to initiate criminal proceedings amounts to shielding a colleague? Is that not misbehaviour under the very standard the judiciary holds others to?
(Photo caption: Former judge of Delhi High Court and present of Ahmedabad, Justice Yashawant Sinha)
A constitutional crisis is not merely a breakdown of law and order—it is also the erosion of public confidence in constitutional institutions. When the judiciary appears to protect its own by soft exits instead of ensuring criminal accountability, it loses not only moral authority but constitutional legitimacy.
Imagine if a cabinet minister had been found hoarding crores in cash. Would the Prime Minister have the discretion to appoint a committee of secretaries and merely request a resignation? Would the public, media, and judiciary have tolerated such procedural leniency? Why, then, should the judiciary be treated differently?
Former CJI Khanna’s actions—or lack thereof—warrant the same scrutiny as Verma’s. This is not about vendetta; this is about setting a precedent of constitutional accountability. After all, in the Sarkaria Commission’s interpretation of the Constitution, the judiciary is not above the law but only its guardian. A guardian who betrays their duty must be answerable to the people, through their representatives in Parliament.
(Photo: Former Chief Justice of the Supreme Court Justice Sanjiv Khanna)
President Droupadi Murmu questioned a judgment delivered by a bench headed by Justice Khanna concerning the constitutional relationship between the Tamil Nadu Governor and the State government. Through a counter-affidavit running into over a hundred pages, the President effectively challenged Khanna’s bizarre ruling, which seeks to seize powers explicitly enshrined in the Constitution for the offices of the President and the Governor. The judgment raised serious concerns about judicial overreach into executive authority and potential violations of Articles 163 and 164, which define the Governor’s role. Yet, no introspection followed.
Today, India’s judiciary faces a moment of reckoning. Legal luminaries around the world, such as Professor Alan Dershowitz and the late Fali Nariman, have long argued that judicial independence must walk hand-in-hand with judicial accountability. In a recent televised interview, a prominent international jurist asked: How can judges be allowed to resign and walk away when found guilty of corruption?
This is not just about one Verma. It’s about the Khannas who let them escape. It’s about systemic rot, masked by procedural dignity.
Let us be blunt. The Constitution empowers Parliament, not the judiciary, to impeach judges (Article 124(4) and Article 217). If a sitting or retired judge is found to have deliberately shielded a colleague, thereby obstructing justice, Parliament must initiate proceedings against him too. It is irrelevant whether Justice Khanna has retired. What matters is whether his conduct amounted to misbehaviour while in office.
To save the credibility of the judiciary, Parliament must treat both Justice Yashwant Verma and former CJI Sanjiv Khanna with the same yardstick. Anything less will send the message that the judiciary is a self-serving, untouchable elite—above the Constitution, above the law, and beyond punishment.
If we let that happen, the biggest casualty won’t be judicial decorum. It will be public trust. And once lost, even the finest judgments will sound hollow in the court of public opinion.
