DYC: Why Historians Will Write A Lot About Him

From being appointed as Additional Solicitor General by the Atal Bihari Vajpayee government to his elevation to the Bombay High Court, DYC unwillingly kept creating a group of disgruntled colleagues who always saw him as a big benefactor of nepotism.

The early 2000s were a time when nepotism in law was not much talked about outside the legal circle, which meant that political authorities overseeing these appointments did not have to face much flak for scuch appointments.

And neither did DYC himself take such criticism with seriousness.

His arguably first brush with public scrutiny came when he started to make headlines for a possible Chief Justice position. A section of judicial intelligentsia was enamoured by his liberal views while for others, it was too big a tilt in a particular direction.

One of the judgments for which he will be etched in Indian jurisprudence is that of recognizing the Right to Privacy as a fundamental right in the K.S. Puttaswamy judgement.

Similarly, decriminalisation of homosexuality and opening the avenues for live-streaming of court proceedings are a few of the many other historical moves for which DYC will be known.

But then again, these traits have their downside too. One of them is giving legal sanctity to the axiom behind the oppressed-oppressive narrative. The fundamental theme behind this idea is that just because someone or a particular group of people does not have something, the prevailing social structure is deemed designed so to deny them.

DYC indirectly endorsed this idea in the case involving the Permanent Commission for women in the Armed Forces. He picked the idea of indirect discrimination—which is defined as based on the effect of the action.

“We are of the considered view that the intention versus effects distinction is a sound jurisprudential basis on which to distinguish direct from indirect discrimination,” read the judgment.

In layman’s terms, a complex tool like indirect discrimination is hinged to the outcome of certain exercises—like recruitment drives or promotional exams. If one group likes the result, it is fair; if it doesn’t, the process is liable to be challenged on the basis of this doctrine.

Traces of this outcome-based judgement were there in the Sabarimala case as well. Reading his observations in the judgement gives one the sense that rather than going deep into the rationality and reasoning of the existing practice, a particular intellectual lens was used to judge it.

DYC termed the practice of women between the ages of 10-50 not being allowed in the Sabarimala Temple as tantamount to untouchability—in effect connecting the age-based restriction to caste-based temple entry movements.

Then there is the concept of testing whether a practice is aimed at keeping women under patriarchal order. According to DYC, the practice stood this test too and was therefore violative of fundamental rights.

It is common knowledge that there are many Ayyappa temples where women’s entry is not barred. Similarly, there are a lot of temples where men are forbidden to enter. One wonders what name would be given to the social institution which allows such practices?

The problem here is singling out a practice from one temple while not looking at other Ayyappa temples—and making the observation.

Before his elevation to the CJI post, DYC delivered the 13th B.R. Ambedkar Memorial Lecture on “Conceptualising Marginalisation: Agency, Assertion, and Personhood.”

In this lecture, he aired his thoughts on merit and pitched for a change in its definition.

According to DYC, the present concept of merit is exclusionary and narrow in nature and allows people from upper castes to mask their caste privilege.

Those who know are aware that this is the rot which has been eating up Ivy League institutions. Attributing ulterior motives to an authority that has governed an institution, state, or country for ages—based on the idea that a particular community was excluded due to social disadvantage—could have been avoided.

A better, practical, and more likeable solution would be ensuring that people get adequate facilities to reach that level and not flip the system upside down.

Unruffled by the criticism about these issues, DYC kept moving towards his elevation as Chief Justice of India (CJI).

By the time he took the oath, several landmark judgments were already to his credit, including Privacy as a Fundamental Right, Permanent Commission for Women, Decriminalization of Homosexuality, Decriminalization of Adultery, Women’s Entry into Sabarimala Temple, and the Ram Mandir ruling, among others.

Chief Justice D.Y. Chandrachud also implemented several key reforms to modernise the Supreme Court of India. The e-Supreme Court Reports (eSCR) project was launched to provide free digital access to Supreme Court judgments, making them readily available to young lawyers and students who often could not afford costly legal databases.

He also introduced a neutral citation system to standardise how judgments from the Supreme Court and High Courts were referenced, with over 36,000 rulings accessible online.

In efforts to promote inclusivity, Chandrachud introduced a "Handbook on Combating Gender Stereotypes," aimed at removing biased language from judicial proceedings. The Supreme Court premises were updated to include gender-neutral restrooms, along with the installation of sanitary napkin vending machines to better accommodate the needs of women.

The Chief Justice also prioritised language accessibility by initiating the translation of judgments into regional languages using artificial intelligence, helping make legal decisions more understandable for the general public.

Chandrachud’s focus on digital transformation led to the enhancement of the Integrated Case Management System (ICMIS) and the integration of Supreme Court data with the National Judicial Data Grid.

He further introduced online RTI portals and expanded e-filing options to streamline processes. Additionally, he reformed case listings to prioritise hearings involving personal liberty, ensuring swift attention to bail applications and related matters.

All the goodwill and expectations raised from these initiatives came to haunt him during the second phase of his CJI tenure.

DYC’s tenure as CJI ran parallel to the time when a democratically elected central government with a thumping majority was constantly being termed authoritarian. The obvious corollary of such narratives is that the media and the judiciary are expected to provide a counterbalancing force—more so the judiciary in this case.

Whether or not he was working to counter the government became the parameter on which DYC started to be scrutinised—as if he were an opposition leader and not CJI.

One of the major assignments he was supposed to handle was recognition of same-sex marriage. Despite prioritising the hearing and halting Court work for weeks, a five-judge Bench headed by DYC decided against recognizing it.

In the judgement, he also drew a sharp line between the judicial and legislative domains.

This turned out to be a watershed moment in the hypothetical longstanding relation between him and proponents of progressiveness. Sentimental statements like “getting betrayed by DYC” could be heard in the Supreme Court’s gallery.

Then in December 2023, another Bench headed by DYC upheld the abrogation of Article 370. Interestingly, he also dismissed the idea of treating the application of Article 370 as granting a separate sovereignty to Jammu and Kashmir.

The term he used for this phenomenon was asymmetric federalism.

Social media jumped on it, even terming DYC as a 'Sanghi'.

A few months after the Article 370 judgement, DYC made headlines for striking down the electoral bond scheme. With the directive for retrospective release of supposedly confidential donation data, investors’ confidence in Indian politics probably took a big hit.

Such strictness in the interest of democracy and transparency still did not win back his old fans, who kept insisting on total surrender.

By the time (October 2024) the DYC-led bench gave a nod to state governments for creating sub-classifications within the reserved Scheduled Caste and Scheduled Tribe categories, he was accused of working on the Modi government’s agenda of dividing communities supposedly unified under the social justice bracket.

Amid supposedly pro-government decisions, his personal life choices and beliefs also started to get attacked by the lobby whose life motto is “the personal is political.”

His emphasis on yoga, AYUSH medicines, or even praying led to social media trolling, only because these were seen as antithetical to a particular ideological bracket, of which he was supposed to be a part.

In an ideal situation, a judge should not bother about them, but he did address some of these concerns lately—even answering questions on bail pleas and the allocation of cases.

Amidst all this, he kept his composure and maintained it through the last second of his tenure. History will certainly judge him, but he is one of those figures historians will fight tooth and nail to document.