By K Raveendran
The impeachment of Allahabad High Court judge Yashwant Varma in the wake of burnt notes being discovered from his residence appears to be a certainty. However, going by past experience, impeachment has rarely functioned as an effective deterrent against judicial misconduct in India.
In the history of Indian judiciary, only five formal impeachment and removal proceedings have ever been initiated against judges of the Supreme Court and High Courts. This, however, by no means suggests that the judiciary is largely free of corruption or misconduct; rather it reveals how impeachment has functioned more as a symbolic tool than as an effective deterrent against judicial impropriety.
The process of impeachment is exceptionally rigorous. It requires not just a special majority in each House of Parliament but also an inquiry under the Judges Inquiry Act, 1968, if the motion is admitted. The special majority, as defined, demands a majority of the total membership of the House and two-thirds of those present and voting. Such a high threshold ensures that only the most egregious instances of judicial misconduct might proceed to actual removal, thereby protecting judges from political vendetta. However, this also severely limits the practical utility of impeachment as a deterrent mechanism.
The case of Justice V. Ramaswami in 1993 was the first significant test of the impeachment provisions. Accused of financial and administrative irregularities during his tenure as Chief Justice of the Punjab and Haryana High Court, an inquiry committee found him guilty. However, despite the damning report, the motion to impeach him failed in the Lok Sabha because the ruling Congress party abstained from voting, thereby denying the motion the required two-thirds majority. The episode starkly exposed the political vulnerabilities of the impeachment process. The failure to act decisively, even when guilt was established, sent a troubling signal: that the fate of judges accused of misconduct could be determined not by the strength of evidence but by partisan political considerations.
Justice Soumitra Sen’s case in 2011 provides a contrast. Accused of misappropriation of funds while acting as a court-appointed receiver before his elevation to the bench, he became the first judge to be impeached by the Rajya Sabha. However, before the House could take up the motion, Sen resigned. His resignation effectively halted the process, as impeachment can only be carried out against sitting judges. While some may view his resignation as an admission of guilt and an appropriate end, it also underscores a structural loophole — a judge can preempt removal by stepping down, avoiding formal accountability and preserving post-retirement privileges. This again undercuts impeachment’s value as a true deterrent.
Another illustrative case is that of Justice P.D. Dinakaran, who faced serious allegations of corruption, land-grab, and abuse of office. A judicial panel was constituted to investigate, but Dinakaran chose to resign in 2011 before the impeachment motion could be moved. Much like Sen’s case, this resignation allowed Dinakaran to avoid the ignominy of removal while simultaneously frustrating any opportunity to establish institutional accountability through due process. In effect, resignation becomes an escape hatch for judges under scrutiny, preventing the larger objective of upholding judicial integrity from being fulfilled.
The pattern of impeachment motions reveals a mix of serious misconduct, political motivations, and procedural stalemates. In 2015, Justice J.B. Pardiwala of the Gujarat High Court faced an impeachment notice due to controversial remarks on reservation policies. Though the motion gained the support of 58 Rajya Sabha members, it did not progress further, partly because the remarks were later expunged. This case raises questions about the threshold for initiating impeachment and whether judicial opinions — controversial as they may be — should form the basis for such an extreme remedy. The danger here is that impeachment could be weaponized to target ideological or jurisprudential differences rather than clear cases of misconduct, which could erode judicial independence.
The same year, another motion was initiated against Justice S.K. Gangele, who faced allegations of sexual harassment by a former judge. A committee of inquiry under the Judges Inquiry Act found insufficient evidence to support the charges, and the motion was dropped. While the inquiry’s outcome upheld procedural fairness, the case brought to light the difficulty in substantiating serious but often hard-to-prove allegations against sitting judges. Moreover, the high evidentiary bar combined with a stringent majority requirement in Parliament effectively discourages the initiation of impeachment even in cases that might warrant closer scrutiny.
In 2017, an impeachment motion was moved against Justice C.V. Nagarjuna Reddy of the Andhra Pradesh and Telangana High Court. Accusations of abuse of power and casteist threats were levelled against him, and opposition MPs submitted a motion to the Rajya Sabha. Despite this, the matter did not progress to the final stages, again reflecting either a political reluctance or the cumbersome nature of the process. While the procedural safeguards are meant to protect judges from frivolous attacks, they simultaneously dilute the threat of consequences, particularly when the accused judge is strategically placed or politically shielded.
Perhaps the most politically sensitive instance occurred in 2018, when opposition parties attempted to initiate impeachment proceedings against then Chief Justice of India Dipak Misra. Allegations ranged from impropriety in the allocation of cases to more general concerns over judicial functioning. While the motion was eventually rejected by the Vice President on grounds of insufficient merit, the episode reflected a broader sense of judicial crisis and institutional mistrust. Regardless of the specific merits, the mere fact that impeachment was contemplated against a sitting Chief Justice indicates how impeachment can also serve as a tool for political signalling rather than a strictly legal recourse.
Overall, these examples reveal that impeachment has rarely functioned as an effective deterrent. The excessively high procedural thresholds, the option for resignation, and the overlap with partisan politics render the process merely symbolic. For impeachment to be a credible deterrent, it must be both operationally viable and procedurally sound — characteristics it currently lacks. Most motions either fail to gain momentum, are defeated due to political manoeuvring, or are short-circuited by resignations. Consequently, judges facing serious allegations often continue without facing institutional consequences, weakening public trust in the judiciary’s accountability mechanisms. (IPA Service)