On August 12, Lok Sabha Speaker Om Birla announced the formation of a three-member inquiry committee to examine the allegations against Justice Yashwant Varma. This is yet another critical moment in India’s constitutional interplay between the legislature and the judiciary. With 146 MPs across party lines having already signed the memorandum for removal, far exceeding the required 100 in the Lok Sabha, Parliament has signalled that it is prepared to wield its most formidable check on judicial misconduct — the removal process under Articles 124 and 218.
As a matter of fact, the allegations against justice Verma are as startling as they are corrosive. Wads of half-burnt currency were recovered from the official residence of the sitting High Court judge. Justice Varma’s transfer from the Delhi High Court to Allahabad in March did little to quell public unease. Furthermore, the Supreme Court’s in-house inquiry, upheld as lawful last week, recommended his removal, underscoring that internal fact-finding is a “stitch in time” to keep the judiciary clean. But that report, however damning, was not binding on Parliament. This is as it should be. The Constitution vests the power to remove judges in the legislature precisely to delineate judicial independence from judicial overreach. In this context, the Speaker’s acceptance of the motion and constitution of the panel — comprising a Supreme Court judge, a Chief Justice of a High Court, and a senior advocate — may well be a guarantee that the process will combine legal rigour with parliamentary oversight. In the case of wrongdoing on the part of Justice Verma, the investigation has to be both fair and thorough.
However, one must not presume anything in the current ambiguous scenario. The road ahead to justice is still very treacherous. Indeed, the impeachment process is not a trial in the conventional sense, but its consequences are clearly career-ending and reputation-shattering. Parliament must resist the temptation to turn this episode into political theatre. The numbers in the House may make removal look inevitable, but the dignity of the institution depends on following due process meticulously, weighing evidence soberly, and insulating proceedings from the noise of public outrage or partisan advantage. In continuation of the vile trends lately, there has been an unwarranted tendency to carry out media and public trials, often punishing the accused before the judiciary passes its verdict. It is the duty of both the people and media to respect Justice Verma’s “innocence” until he is “proven guilty”. Presumption is perhaps the largest enemy of justice delivery.
For the judiciary, this is both a moment of vulnerability and an opportunity. Vulnerability, because the sight of one of its own under such grave suspicion has considerably eroded public faith. Opportunity, because it can show that it welcomes accountability, both as a concession to Parliament and as an affirmation of its own moral authority. At this point in time, all it needs to do is to ensure that Parliament’s authority in this case is unhampered, which, fortunately, it is up to.
It goes without saying that the stakes are much higher than Justice Varma’s personal fate — which in itself is no less important. This process will test whether India’s constitutional design for judicial removal — sparingly used in 75 years — can function as intended: neither paralysed by procedural delays nor corrupted by political motives. It will test whether two co-equal branches of government can navigate a crisis without diminishing each other. In the life of a judge, as Justice Varma himself has said, nothing matters more than reputation. The same is true of the judiciary and Parliament alike. The coming weeks will determine whether the flames that charred those bundles of cash also scorch the credibility of both institutions — or whether, in the glare of public scrutiny, they can emerge with their authority intact.