Thank you dear subscribers, we are overwhelmed with your response.
Your Turn is a unique section from ThePrint featuring points of view from its subscribers. If you are a subscriber, have a point of view, please send it to us. If not, do subscribe here: https://theprint.in/subscribe/
The Bar Council of India’s decision to withdraw its direction temporarily preventing the enrolment of the entire 2026 graduating batch of NALSAR University of Law was welcome. But the episode raises a constitutional question far larger than the immediate controversy:
Does respect for the judiciary require freedom from criticism of judges?
Surely not.
The controversy arose after a section of NALSAR students opposed Chief Justice of India Surya Kant’s proposed participation in their convocation, following remarks attributed to him during proceedings concerning alleged police excesses against students protesting over NEET.
The students may have interpreted those remarks unfairly. Their protest may have been intemperate. Others at NALSAR were equally entitled to disagree with them.
But disagreement with the Chief Justice cannot, by itself, become professional misconduct.
The BCI initially directed State Bar Councils not to enrol any member of NALSAR’s 2026 graduating batch until further orders, while seeking information identifying those principally involved in organising the campaign.
That inverted an elementary principle of law.
Responsibility must precede punishment. The law does not ordinarily punish an entire identifiable class and investigate afterwards to discover who was actually responsible.
Natural justice requires allegations to be identified, jurisdiction established, notice given, evidence examined and the individual heard before an adverse consequence is imposed. The BCI wisely reconsidered its position within hours and allowed the students to enrol.
But the principle remains important.
The legal profession unquestionably carries special obligations. Advocates owe dignity to courts and must uphold the administration of justice. Courts cannot function if lawyers intimidate judges, obstruct proceedings or deliberately undermine judicial processes.
Yet respect for the institution of the judiciary cannot mean compulsory reverence for every person who temporarily occupies judicial office.
Judges exercise enormous public power. Their decisions can imprison citizens, invalidate legislation, restrain governments and determine questions affecting millions. Such power necessarily attracts scrutiny.
A lawyer must obey a lawful judicial order unless it is stayed or overturned. But a lawyer need not agree with the judgment. He may argue that it is wrong, seek its review, criticise its reasoning or advocate constitutional change.
That is not an assault upon judicial independence. It is constitutional democracy at work.
There is, equally, a boundary.
Students may write representations, question invitations, criticise judicial remarks, demonstrate peacefully or decline to attend a ceremony. But threatening a speaker, intimidating fellow students, physically preventing participation or obstructing an institutional function raises entirely different questions.
Freedom of speech protects dissent. It does not confer a right of coercion.
A mature republic must therefore protect the institution and the dissenter simultaneously.
There is another dimension particularly important to lawyers. India needs an independent judiciary. But an independent judiciary also requires an independent Bar.
An advocate is not an employee of the judge. The Bar is not an auxiliary department of the Bench. Its highest function sometimes requires telling a court—respectfully but fearlessly—that the court is wrong.
If young lawyers enter the profession believing that criticism of judicial conduct may jeopardise their ability to practise, something precious will have been lost before their careers begin.
A timid Bar ultimately produces a weaker judiciary. Judges themselves benefit from rigorous argument, intellectual opposition and lawyers willing to defend unpopular causes.
The BCI may legitimately investigate conduct falling within the jurisdiction Parliament has conferred upon it. If anyone threatened, intimidated, obstructed or otherwise acted unlawfully, individual responsibility should be established through due process.
But the inquiry should investigate conduct, not opinion.
The question must never become: Did this student sufficiently respect the Chief Justice?
No democratic legal system should measure fitness for the legal profession through a thermometer of reverence.
The NALSAR episode therefore offers lessons for everyone. Students should understand that protest carries responsibilities. Universities should protect disagreement while ensuring that neither majorities nor organised minorities silence others. Regulators must defend professional standards while respecting statutory limits, natural justice and individual responsibility. Constitutional functionaries, meanwhile, must accept that criticism—sometimes severe criticism—is inseparable from public office.
The constitutional equilibrium is simple:
Respect the court. Obey its lawful orders. Defend its independence. Challenge its reasoning when necessary. Criticise without vilification. Protest without coercion. Regulate misconduct without regulating thought.
The Republic does not need lawyers trained to bow before power. Nor does it need lawyers who mistake disruption for courage.
It needs lawyers capable of something more difficult: respecting institutions without surrendering their independence of mind.
The dignity of the judiciary is too important to be protected by compulsory reverence.
It is protected best by the rule of law itself.
Mohan MURTI, FICA
Advocate & Industry Arbitrator
These pieces are being published as they have been received – they have not been edited/fact-checked by ThePrint.