Fictional Youtube video directs UK Prime Minister to resign.
Colonial Continuities in Judicial Practice in India
When Courts Normalize Servitude it is Colonial mindset.
🏛️ Introduction: Colonial Ghosts in Contemporary Courts
British Colonial rule ended in India in 1947 but the mindset of institutions has not changed. A recent judgement of Andhra Pradesh High Court has sparked fresh debate on the subject. Judiciary in India not only fascinates the British, they also emulate Colonial British Judiciary in their everyday conduct.
The recent Andhra Pradesh High Court ruling has reignited debates around labor dignity and administrative ethics. By legitimizing domestic duties assigned to court staff at judges’ residences, the judgment appears to resurrect a colonial legacy once thought buried. This post examines how such institutional practices mirror British-era servitude, where power masked itself as tradition. First of all, to provide Court staff at the residences of judges, at the cost of taxpayer, is itself questionable.
🔙 British Rule & Domestic Labor: A Historical Blueprint
- British officials, during colonial rule, routinely employed Indian subordinates for household chores.
- Colonial era texts like The Complete Indian Housekeeper and Cook institutionalized the domestic management of “native” workers.
- Labor was racialized and gendered, often coerced without formal protections in colonial era.
- Colonial courts seldom intervened, preserving imperial domestic control. For them dignity of native was not an issue at all for them to bother about.
These systems blurred the lines between professional duty and personal service—a trend troublingly echoed in today’s judiciary.
⚖️ The AP High Court Judgment: Service or Servitude?
- High Court upheld the practice of assigning office subordinates to domestic tasks at judges’ homes.
- Interpreted the 1992 administrative circular as non-exhaustive, allowing wide latitude in task assignments.
- Dismissed employees’ concerns around harassment and overwork, redirecting them to internal grievance channels.
Such reasoning not only normalizes servitude but institutionalizes it within the framework of judicial legitimacy.
🔍 Parallels in Power: Why This Echoes Colonial Logic
| Colonial Era | Judicial Present |
|---|---|
| Household labor embedded in governance | Domestic work embedded in judicial roles |
| No formal boundaries between professional and personal labor | Job descriptions flexed to allow personal service |
| Servants lacked agency and visibility | Subordinates’ grievances dismissed as administrative |
| Imperial tradition justified domestic servitude | Judicial tradition legitimizes similar duties |
🧠 Philosophical Lens: Aham Brahmasmi vs. Bureaucratic Dharma
India’s philosophical heritage reveres dignity, unity, and self-awareness. Colonial way of though process must end. Judicial institutions must embody dharma—not merely legal interpretation, but ethical responsibility. Assigning domestic labor to court staff undermines these ideals and erodes trust in judicial transparency and it’s duty to spread egalitarianism in society.
📌 Conclusion: Reform Beyond Semantics
This isn’t about housekeeping—it’s about hierarchy. If we’re serious about institutional reform, we must confront how post-colonial structures inherit colonial logic. Judicial introspection is long overdue on this aspect as well. Gandhi posed an example about 100 years back by cleaning his own toilet. The Honorable Judges can start by doing their household chores themselves.
📚 References & Further Reading
- Nayar, P. K. – The Colonial Home: Managing Objects and Servants in British India
- Haskins & Sen – Regulation and Domestic Service in Colonial Histories
- Pooja, P. – Delhi, Domestic Service and Women from 1911 to 1926
- Chakraborty, S. – From Bibis to Ayahs: Sexual Labour and Domestic Politics of Empire
- Ghosh, D. – Household Crimes and Domestic Order in Colonial Calcutta
- AP High Court Judgment – July 2025
Why Indian Judiciary Fascinates British Culture’s My Lord and Tailcoat?
Unrobing the Past of My Lords:
Investigating the Indian Judiciary’s Enduring Fascination with British Culture
Seventy-eight years after gaining independence, the Indian legal system, particularly its judiciary, continues to exhibit a fascinating, and at times perplexing, affinity for British legal traditions and cultural markers. From the ceremonial address of “My Lord” to sartorial choices that defy a tropical climate, these lingering influences raise pertinent questions about identity, decolonization, and the very essence of justice in modern India.
The anecdote of a former Chief Justice of a High Court donning a tailcoat – the epitome of British formal wear – for a social gathering, even if not for a formal oath ceremony, provides a vivid snapshot of this phenomenon. While an individual choice, it underscores a deeper, systemic fascination that merits closer scrutiny.
The Lingering Echoes: “My Lord” and the Robe
Perhaps the most visible and widely debated symbol of this colonial hangover is the address “My Lord” or “Your Lordship” for judges. A direct import from the British legal system, where judges were historically linked to the peerage, this honorific has persisted despite calls for its abolition. The Bar Council of India, the apex body of lawyers, even passed a resolution in 2006 urging the use of “Your Honour” or “Sir” as more appropriate and decolonized forms of address. Yet, in the higher echelons of the judiciary, “My Lord” largely endures, signaling a deep-seated reverence for inherited traditions. Change can not happen if the judges call each other as “My Lord“.
The mandatory black robes for judges and the black coats and bands for advocates further highlight this adherence. While proponents argue that this dress code lends solemnity and dignity to the courtroom, critics consistently point to the profound impracticality in India’s scorching climate. The layers of thick, dark fabric in a country where temperatures routinely soar above 40 degrees Celsius lead to discomfort, health risks, and questions about the common sense behind such adherence. The fact that the power to modify this dress code largely rests with the Bar Council of India and the High Courts themselves, rather than the government or legislature, underscores the judiciary’s internal autonomy and, perhaps, its inherent conservatism in these matters.
Education, Ideas, and Elite Connections
The roots of this fascination run deeper than mere symbols. For generations, studying law at prestigious British universities like Oxford and Cambridge was the ultimate aspiration for many ambitious Indian legal minds, including those who would ascend to the judiciary. Even today, despite the proliferation of excellent legal institutions within India, the allure of a foreign, often British, legal education remains strong for many elite families.
This exposure naturally cultivates a certain legal culture – an appreciation for common law principles, the weight of precedent, and the historical decorum of British courts. These influences shape judicial philosophy, interpretative approaches to law, and a preference for established procedures and aesthetics. This intellectual lineage can, at times, create a perceived disconnect with the grassroots realities and aspirations of a diverse, independent India.
The My Lord’s “Tailcoat Moment” and its Implications
The anecdote of Chief Justice of Chhattisgarh at the tea party hosted at the time of elevation of its Registrar as judge, choosing to wear a tailcoat with its distinctive shining lapels, is particularly revealing. While not part of the prescribed judicial uniform for court, its use at a social event following a judicial ceremony speaks volumes. It wasn’t a mandatory requirement, but a personal choice that likely stemmed from a desire to embody the highest echelons of formality and tradition, as understood through a British cultural lens. It points to a cultivated taste, a personal identification with a sartorial language that signifies prestige and heritage in a way that resonates with the British aristocracy and judiciary.
This instance, along with the broader persistence of “My Lord” and the impractical dress code, invites us to ponder:
- Is this fascination a benign embrace of historical heritage, or a subtle perpetuation of a colonial mindset that implicitly elevates the former colonizer’s culture and justify emulation?
- Does this aesthetic adherence inadvertently contribute to a perception of the judiciary as an insular elite, rather than an accessible institution of and for the people of India?
- In a nation striving for its unique identity on the global stage, when will the legal system ever fully “unrobe” itself from these colonial garments and embrace practices more suited to its own climate, culture, and constitutional aspirations?
The debate is not merely about robes and forms of address; it’s about the soul of India’s justice system. It’s about how an independent nation’s most vital institutions reflect its past, shape its present, and define its future. The continued embrace of these British cultural markers by a powerful and independent judiciary presents a compelling case study in the complex and enduring legacy of colonialism.
Judiciary is a Robed Raj: An Requiem of Judicial Aristocracy in India
Judicial system in India as legacy of British Empire
Introduction to Judiciary
While the British left in 1947, one institution remained untouched in spirit, structure, and psychology: the judiciary. Not merely a pillar of democracy, but a vestigial crown—the last surviving outpost of empire.
India decolonized its Parliament. It could never decolonize its Courts i.e. its judicial system. This isn’t a poetic flourish. It is a structural truth, and now—an urgent crisis.
⚖️ The Colonial DNA of the Indian Judiciary
- Language: English-only proceedings ensure 90% of Indians remain legal orphans.
• Attire: Robes, wigs (once), and “My Lord” rituals mimic imperial courts, not democratic justice.
• Recruitment: Judges themselves appoint judges through a system called the Collegium—a closed circle with no transparency or public input. India has a written constitution which does not even mention the word “collegium” but it has been created with senior judges of Supreme Court as its members.
• Power without accountability: They cannot be easily impeached, audited, or even questioned without risking “contempt.” Read about Justice Yashwant Verma controversy below.
This is not a public institution. It is a self-governing aristocracy in black robes.
Ignoring Palpable Corruption
In March 2025, a fire at the Delhi residence of Justice Yashwant Varma led to a major judicial controversy when responders discovered heaps of half-burnt ₹500 notes in a storeroom under his control. Despite video evidence and multiple eyewitness accounts, no formal police complaint was filed. A Supreme Court-appointed panel investigated, calling 55 witnesses and eventually concluding that Varma and his family had covert access to the storeroom, suggesting serious misconduct.
The panel recommended impeachment proceedings, citing a lack of transparency and failure to report the incident. Justice Varma denied all allegations and claimed a conspiracy, but was nonetheless transferred to the Allahabad High Court, stripped of judicial responsibilities. The source of the cash remains unknown, leaving lingering questions about judicial accountability and the limits of institutional oversight.
🔁 Not Rule of Law—But Rule of Judges
India suffers not from the tyranny of precedent—but from its complete abandonment.
- Precedents are fluid. Legal memory is optional.
• Bench shopping is routine. Outcomes often depend on who hears the case, not what it concerns.
• Judges routinely overstep, issuing moral rulings on food, films, and private life.
On social media people crying hoarse on different criterion being applied. Hashtag #Judiciary makes trend on social media but no change takes place to improve the situation or to make judicial decision consistant.
This is not jurisprudence. It is judicial adventurism. The robes may be black, but they carry the color of empire.
🧱 The Structural Curse of Judges
India’s judiciary is not comparable to that of Pakistan or Myanmar in outcome—they never had rule of law to begin with. But the structural resemblance is undeniable:
Just as the military is the self-appointing, untouchable force in Pakistan and Myanmar, the judiciary in India has become the military of the mind. I has ventured into all domains of executive governance, not even sparing the sports like cricket.
- Judges, self-appointing judges through the collegium.
• Immune from prosecution, even in corruption scandals.
• Untouchable by Parliament, media, or public opinion. - Unanswerable to any institution of public under the veil of autonomy
From currency-filled residences to deliberate falsehoods in affidavits, judges face no consequence. This is not justice. It is an imperial order in judicial disguise.
📉 Collapse of Basic Justice: Contract Enforcement
India ranks among the worst in the world in enforcing contracts. Thanks only to judiciary.
- India ranked 163rd out of 190 countries in the World Bank’s Ease of Doing Business (2020).
- Judges go on leave with not even an SMS to litigants but if a litigant fails to turn up due to any emergency, he is required to pay costs which is may not be compensatory but punitive.
- Judiciary requires over 1,400 days (nearly 4 years) to resolve an average commercial dispute. However, it is not uncommon to see litigation prolonging for decades.
This isn’t just inefficiency. It’s the symptom of a judiciary that pursues prestige over service. And the economy pays for it. Public has to suffer in silence.
👑 Aristocracy at the Judicial Benches
The real decay lies in the judiciary’s internal culture. It behaves less like a constitutional body, and more like a hereditary elite, convinced of its own superiority. The result of appointment through collegium system is that every judge is a close blood relative of another judge, present or retired.
- Misbehavior in Court
– Judges openly scold, humiliate, and mock litigants and lawyers—especially juniors, alike.
– Politeness is rare. Arrogance is the norm. - Pushback from Lawyers
– In smaller towns, this has escalated into protests and physical confrontations.
– Lawyers no longer fear the bench. They resent it. Frequently Bars pass resolutions or go on strike to boycott a particular judge. The circus may be due to a cause but it is disgusting. - Collapse of Professional Culture
– The courtroom is no longer a place of mutual respect—it is a stage for dominance.
– This is not sustainable. It is already beginning to crack.
The judiciary is no longer feared for its wisdom. It is resisted for its arrogance.
🌐 A Global Pattern: Judiciary and Status Quo
As Subhash Kak, a scientist by profession and settled in USA observes, the judiciary across many nations now acts as the guardian of the global status quo and judiciary of India is no different:
- It obstructs nationalists while preserving old institutional power.
• It aligns more with globalist elites than with the democratic will of people.
• It is a counter-majoritarian force, immune to reform, and intolerant of disruption.
India is not isolated in this—only more opaque.
🪦 A Burial, Not a Reformation
This is not a call to reform. This is a call to retire the institution as it currently exists.
What has outlived its dignity,
what defends only itself,
what holds no mirror to the people—
deserves a burial, not fire.
The Robed Raj must end.
Not with slogans. Not with rage. But with clarity, courage, and the creation of a new system grounded in:
- Transparency in appointments
• Professionalism in conduct
• Accountability to the public
Until then, India may vote freely, speak freely, even protest freely—
But it will not be ruled justly.
Not until the Robed Raj is named, challenged, and laid to rest.