The power to move an impeachment motion against a judge is among the most serious constitutional privileges entrusted to Members of Parliament. It is not an ordinary political instrument, nor is it a forum for registering disagreement with judicial reasoning. It exists for one purpose alone: to protect the integrity of the judiciary by enabling removal in cases of proved misbehaviour or incapacity. When this power is invoked for anything short of that threshold, it ceases to be a constitutional safeguard and begins to resemble a constitutional abuse.
The recent impeachment notice moved against Justice G.R. Swaminathan compels a closer examination; not of the correctness of a particular judgment, but of the conduct of those MPs who chose to invoke Parliament’s most extreme accountability mechanism without alleging corruption, misconduct, or incapacity. At stake is not one judge’s fate, but the health of the separation of powers itself.
Parliamentary privilege exists to enable legislators to discharge their constitutional functions without fear or favour. Articles 105 and 194 protect free speech in Parliament precisely so that representatives can legislate, debate, and hold the executive accountable. These privileges were never intended to confer unfettered discretion to deploy constitutional mechanisms for purposes they were not designed to serve. Privileges are functional, not absolute. The Supreme Court has repeatedly held that parliamentary privileges are subject to constitutional purpose and limitation. When privilege is exercised in a manner that undermines another constitutional institution, it violates the very framework it claims to operate within.
Impeachment is not a political expression; it is a constitutional prosecution. MPs who sign an impeachment notice are not merely expressing dissent, they are formally alleging that a sitting judge has committed misconduct serious enough to warrant removal. Such an allegation carries institutional consequences even before any inquiry begins. To trigger that process without meeting the constitutional standard is not an exercise of privilege; it is a misuse of it. The impeachment notice against Justice Swaminathan rests entirely on disagreement with his reasoning in a particular judgment. There is no allegation of bribery, financial impropriety, abuse of office, or incapacity. The MPs who initiated the motion have effectively sought to elevate interpretive disagreement into constitutional wrongdoing.
Constitutionally Indefensible.
Articles 124(4) and 217 of the Constitution draw a clear line: judges may be removed only for proved misbehaviour or incapacity. The framers deliberately rejected vaguer standards precisely to insulate judges from political retaliation. If disagreement with judicial reasoning were sufficient, no judge who decides contentious questions on religion, federalism, rights, or executive power would remain secure. Courts exist to decide disputes where reasonable people disagree. Appeals exist because judges can err. Parliament exists to legislate and to hold the executive accountable not to discipline judges for how they interpret law. MPs who conflate these domains do not strengthen democracy; they distort it.
The most dangerous aspect of such impeachment notices is not their likelihood of success but their signalling effect. Even if the Speaker ultimately refuses to admit the motion as constitutional prudence would demand, the damage is already partially done. The message conveyed is unmistakable: controversial judgments may invite political reprisal. This transforms impeachment from a mechanism of accountability into a tool of intimidation.
The Constitution never intended judges to operate under the constant shadow of parliamentary displeasure. Judicial independence does not mean immunity from scrutiny; it means freedom from coercion. When MPs deploy impeachment as a pressure tactic, they chill judicial decision-making and weaken the institutional confidence required for constitutional adjudication.
The Judges (Inquiry) Act, 1968 vests the Speaker with discretion to admit or reject impeachment motions even when signature requirements are met. This discretion is not procedural formality; it is a constitutional firewall against precisely the kind of misuse now on display. Admission requires more than numerical support. It requires substance, credible allegations of misbehaviour supported by material evidence. Motions grounded solely in disagreement with judicial reasoning fall outside the constitutional meaning of impeachment and must be filtered out at the threshold.
To admit such motions would not merely set a precedent; it would lower the constitutional bar for removal and normalise political interference in judicial functioning.
As a student of law and the Constitution, what is equally troubling is the muted response from sections of the political and intellectual establishment. Parliamentary privilege is being stretched beyond its constitutional purpose, yet the alarm that such misuse should trigger has largely been absent. Constitutional norms rarely collapse overnight. They erode when deviations are tolerated, when misuse is rationalised, and when silence replaces scrutiny. If the political class is permitted to redefine impeachment as a reaction to judicial disagreement, the precedent will not remain confined to one case or one judge.
If MPs are allowed to use impeachment notices as political instruments, several consequences follow: Judges will inevitably begin to self-censor, especially in cases involving majoritarian sentiment or executive action, Parliament will assume an informal appellate role it was never meant to perform, the separation of powers will weaken, as fear replaces independence and public confidence in both the institutions, Parliament and the judiciary will diminish. None of this strengthens democracy. All of it weakens constitutional governance.
The Constitution equips Parliament with the power of impeachment to protect the judiciary from corruption, not to punish judges for reasoning that some find inconvenient. MPs who invoke this power bear a corresponding constitutional responsibility: to use it sparingly, seriously, and only for purposes it was designed to serve. To misuse impeachment is not merely to act imprudently; it is to act unconstitutionally.
A democracy cannot survive if its judges fear legislative reprisal for interpreting the law honestly. Nor can Parliament retain moral authority if it converts constitutional privilege into political leverage. The present moment demands clarity. Disagreement with judgments belongs in appeals, critiques, and discussions not in impeachment notices. If this distinction collapses, the damage will extend far beyond one judge or one controversy. It will strike at the balance that keeps the Republic constitutional rather than merely majoritarian.
The Constitution does not permit Parliament to discipline judges for thinking differently. Those entrusted with parliamentary privilege must remember that its highest purpose is not power but restraint.
The Author is a Researcher at Knowledge Collective and Editor of CMDA Magazine.
[The opinions expressed in this article are those of the author.]