LAW
VS. JUSTICE
By P. KODANDA RAO, M.A.
(Servants
of India Society, Bangalore)
My
views are those of a layman who had no systematic education in law and no
professional experience of law courts. They have no expert value. They are only
those of a social worker who has been in public life for over thirty-five years
and is more interested in the philosophy, rather than the practice, of the Rule
of Law and who is more competent to raise questions than furnish answers.
The International Commission of Jurists defined the Rule of Law as “those rules, procedures and institutions which have proved necessary to protect the freedom of the individual within the framework of an organised society.” What, in perspective, is the extent of individual freedom in an organised society? Individual freedom is not absolute; it is limited by a variety of societies, ranging from the domestic to the national, and now the international. The individual is hemmed in and conditioned by social controls practically from his birth right up to his death. Most of the thinking and doing of most individuals most of their lives is in conformity to social conditioning. The few who assert their freedom and question conformity in some respects are, however, content to conform to other social controls without question and often without understanding. Individual freedom seems to be small compared with social conformity, perhaps a ripple on the surface of the ocean of social conformity due to ubiquitous social control.
Even
democracy, which places a high value on individual freedom, tends to reduce it.
Democratic legislatures pour out a continuous stream of laws, each one of
which, by and large, commands the citizen to do something or refrain from doing
it, and thus steadily attenuates the diminishing freedom of the individual. If
this process continues indefinitely, individual freedom may taper off to zero!
Individual
freedom, such as it is, is of the highest value since it permits change and
reform and progress. Social control, which is restrictive of individual
liberty, is coercive. Non-conformity is penalised by painful
sanctions like social disapproval, ostracism, boycott and persecution, fine,
imprisonment and decapitation. Voluntary conformity is very often due to
potential sanctions, though most people, being habituated to it, are not
conscious of it, even as they are not conscious of the weight of the atmosphere
they carry. Restrictions on individual liberty find justification in promoting
social justice, namely, equality of opportunity to individuals for economic
advancement, social acceptability, religious freedom, artistic fulfilment and
political responsibility. Traffic regulations, which restrict the freedom of
the individual to meander at will on the public road, are justified to ensure the
safety of all individuals who use the road, including the individual
restrained. Taxing the rich to provide amenities to the poor finds
justification in social justice. If young men are conscripted to risk their
lives in war, their individual freedom is restricted to safeguard the freedom
of their nation. But if an individual is restricted in the expression of his
opinion, without incitement to violence, it goes against social justice. The
problem of individual liberty in an organised society is to promote maximum
social justice with minimum restriction on individual liberty.
The
chief institution for securing this balance is the State, the organ of the
political society. It regulates the relations between individual liberty and
social justice by means of laws. It penalises non-conformity by sanctions like
fine, imprisonment and, finally, death. It makes laws through its legislature,
operates them through its executive, and interprets them through its judiciary.
To enable it to function effectively, without fear or favour and with complete
impartiality, the judiciary is made independent of the other two organs of the
State. It has been the high responsibility of the judiciary to interpose its
authority to save individual freedom from unwarranted encroachment by the
executive, and even in some cases by the legislature, if subordinate to a
Constitution. Hence the separation of powers.
Curiously
enough, the Lord Chancellor in England combines in himself all the three
functions. He is the head of the judiciary; he is a member of the Cabinet; and
he is a member of the House of Lords. Separation of functions is absolute in
the United States of America on the theory of “checks and balances” and of law
subordinate to the Constitution. Nevertheless, it would seem that individual
liberty is protected as effectively in England as in America, if not more so.
On the other hand, the American system seems anomalous in some respects. For
instance, the American Constitution postulates freedom of speech in absolute terms.
Nevertheless, the American Supreme Court, which took the oath to uphold the
Constitution, violated it by abridging absolute freedom of speech by inventing
the theory of inherent police powers, which was not expressively sanctioned by
the Constitution. The abridgement may be justified by commonsense and the
impracticability of the Constitution. The remedy for it is the appropriate
amendment of the Constitution and not its judicial violation.
The
presumption that an independent judiciary is needed to protect individual
freedom from invasion by the executive seems largely to be a hang-over of the
political past when there was an unbridgeable distinction between the ruler and
the ruled. The King was the sovereign, who was born to his station and
exercised autocratic powers and could be removed only by death or
assassination. Often he lived high and apart from his subjects, conscripted
them and levied taxes for his luxury in peace and his glory in war. The
interests of the ruler and the ruled were not necessarily identical in all
respects. The difference was further widened when the two were divided by race,
religion, language and country of origin, as in the case of imperial ruler over
colonial subjects. They were antagonistic to each other.
The
relation loses much of its validity in a modern democracy, particularly with
adult franchise. The ruler and the ruled are one and identical. Sovereignty
vests in the whole body of adult voters, who constitute the political society.
Because their numbers are too large to function as the legislature, they elect
a manageable number of representatives to make laws. The legislature is thus a
committee of the electorate, and is its agent. Since the legislature is too
large to function as the executive, a sub-committee of it, the Cabinet,
functions as the Government. The relation is comparable to that of the general
body, the managing committee, and the executive officer of a service
organisation, like a co-operative society. There are occasional disharmonies
between the several links in the chain. But there is no inherent antagonism
between them. They have identical interests, and their mutual relations are
more co-operative than conflicting. The problem in a modern democracy is not so
much the protection of individual liberty from attack by the State as of
subordinating individual liberty just enough to serve the ends of social
justice and no more. The approach is, or should be, vitally different.
The
State seeks to promote social justice by means of laws, procedural and
substantive, and by institutions, the courts of justice, presided over by
judges or magistrates. Generally, there is a hierarchy of courts, from the
village court at the bottom to the Supreme Court at the top, and other courts
in between. The judges, except at the village level, have all at least the
minimum qualifications of a degree in law and some legal experience. The main
difference between the different grades of judges is that, apart from
individual excellences at all levels, those of the higher courts have generally
longer experience, receive higher salaries and have a higher social status and
perhaps greater judicial independence. But all courts, from the lowest to the
highest, have a common function: to render justice.
Every dispute has at least two parties. Both of them cannot, in the nature of things, have justice on their sides. The judge must decide in favour of one and against the other. While the winner generally claims that justice has been done, the loser is not likely to grant it. If the judge has rendered justice, both the parties should be able to acknowledge it. When several judges, sitting as a bench, give two different judgments, is one just and the other unjust? None of the differing judges may be discounted as ignorant, perverse or bent on injustice. It sometimes happens, as in the case of the American Supreme Court, that four judges take one view and three take another. Not unoften, the minority judgment appeals to the public as just.
The
majority judgment prevails, but only because both opposing judgments cannot be
made effective simultaneously. But the majority-minority procedure is more
political than judicial. It seems odd, all the same, that justice should be
decided by a majority vote, as in a legislature.
Further,
it often happens that the judgment of the lower court is, on appeal, reversed
by the next higher court. The appellate judgment may, in turn, be reversed by
the next higher court, and so on. The judgment of the Supreme Court may be
reversed if there were a still higher court to appeal to. To arrive at some
finality, the number of appeals is limited, though the limitation is arbitrary.
Now, which of the reversing judgments was just? If any of them was just, why
was it reversed on appeal, instead of being confirmed?
What
is the justification for appeals at all? Is it to be presumed that the judge of
the Lower court is capable of a Lower quality of justice, than a judge of a
higher court? Since appeals cost money and take time, most losers in the lower
court have to be content with the presumably lower quality of justice, which
seems unjust to them. Since the results of appeals are unpredictable, they
become a speculation, often ruinous to the clients concerned, and take long for
the final result, justifying the criticism that “justice delayed is justice
denied.” The only individual who stands to gain anyway is the lawyer.
The
present system is like a pyramid. The great majority of litigants, who are poor
and cannot afford to appeal, get the lowest quality of justice from the more numerous
lower courts at the bottom. Higher and higher justice is available to fewer and
fewer litigants, who are rich and richer, while the richest, who are fewest,
get the highest justice, as it were.
The
system seems to be essentially unjust. Justice must be justice, and not a
hierarchy. Nor should it vary with the purse of the litigant. Nor should
justice be determined by majority votes. If justice be graded, the poorest
should have access to the highest grade. There should be democracy in justice:
equal justice for all by the best judges available. There should be no need for
appeals, much less speculation in appeals. Nor should justice be a source of
revenue to the State.
If
appeals are justified and be permitted as second best alternative, there may be
just one appeal from a single first judge to a panel of two appellate judges,
or from a bench of two judges to a single appellate judge. If the three do not
agree, the judgment of any two might prevail. This reform is likely to expedite
justice and reduce speculative appeals and ruinous costs to the parties.
Law
is a means to justice. Even as language is a means to education and not
education itself, so law is the means to justice and not justice itself. Judges
interpret law to give justice, even as the engineer manipulates the regulators
to give water for irrigation. Justice ante-dates law. Even now in the most
law-ridden societies, more disputes are settled and justice rendered without
recourse to law and the law courts, and by commonsense, by conciliation and
arbitration, and good offices of third parties with no law degrees and no
experience of law courts. Apart from such informal dispensation of justice,
village Panchayats or councils dispense formal justice which is statutorily
recognized. In the more sophisticated ‘higher’ courts, there is reason to
believe that very often justice is subordinated to law, substance to procedure,
commonsense to technicalities. Instead of procedural law being subordinated to
substantive justice, it often prevails over, and defeats, justice.
A
few incidents may be mentioned to illustrate the point. On one occasion, a
judge of a High Court, a judge of a district court and a district magistrate
agreed in saying that a judge sometimes invited the parties to a dispute to his
chamber and assured them that it was not the court and asked them to tell the
truth! And got it! This was confirmed on a subsequent occasion by a retired
Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, two judges of the same Court in office and
the Dean of a Law School!
It
is shocking to a layman that a judge had to assure the parties that his chamber
was not the court and then invite them to tell the truth, while it is in the
court that the oath to “speak the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the
truth” is administered! It would seem that law is administered in the court,
and justice in the chamber! It would seem that the
court has become more an arena for forensic duels between the lawyers
representing the parties to a dispute with a view to win, rather than a place
where justice is sought and rendered. Few take the oath seriously; coaching of
witnesses to give false evidence is pretty common. The court, with its oaths
and procedure and lawyers, seems to be the last place to discover justice. It
may secure the rule of law but not necessarily of justice.
This
unfortunate situation seems to be due very largely to lawyers and to
judges who rose to the bench from the bar. Though the procedural law permits
the parties to a dispute to plead their cases in person, it is rarely availed
of. Most often the parties engage professional lawyers to argue their cases
before the judges. In some cases, when a party engages no lawyer because of
poverty or other cause, the judge assigns him a lawyer.
The
lawyer is designated an “officer of the court” to assist the judge to arrive at
the truth and render justice. But he is not a civil servant like the judge and
is not paid by the State. Instead he is paid by his client and is expected to
do his best to win for him. In so far as he is an officer of the court, like
the judge, his approach should be judicial, but, as the advocate of his client,
it is partisan. Rarely, if ever, does a lawyer take his duty as an officer of
the court seriously, and most often he is the advocate of his client. One of
the most eminent lawyers in South India discovered, to his dismay, that there
was a binding decision of the British Privy Council adverse to him in a case he
was defending in the High Court. His opposite lawyer had not, however, spotted
it and brought it to the notice of the presiding judges. He was in a dilemma;
should he tell and lose his case, or not tell and perchance win? He sought
advice. A few friends pointed out that he was an officer of the court and
should tell; while most others pointed out that he was the advocate of his
client and was paid by him to win, and should, therefore, not tell. After much
agonising introspection, he told. The judges were surprised and the lawyers
were stunned. When the judges recovered their judicial composure, they paid a
high tribute to him for having acted as an “officer of the
court”–a rare phenomenon! It is extremely difficult for a lawyer to reconcile
his duty to justice with his duty to his client. Most often the latter
prevails.
Generally
lawyers enquire into the merits of a case, if only to decide on the strategy to
adopt in the court to win for the client. And very often they defend cases
which they know to be false. They advise their guilty client to plead “not
guilty”, and defend him on that basis and take the chance of winning and
often win. A most clever British lawyer in India secured the acquittal of a man
who, he knew, was guilty of murder, but declined to shake hands with the
murderer after acquittal! As a lawyer, he defended the murderer; as a
gentleman, he refused to shake hands with him! The late Sir P. S. Sivaswamy
Aiyer, one of the most eminent lawyers, said: “I have known cases in which
eminent advocates in the Madras Bar have had occasion to deplore the success of
their advocacy from the point of view of justice, or from the public point of
view, but laid the flattering unction to their souls that the responsibility
had been solely with the judges.” (K. V. Krishnaswami Aiyar, Professional
Conduct and Advocacy. 3rd Edition, 1953. p. 127)
A
very eminent Indian lawyer related that he was asked to defend a man accused of
murder who had engaged no lawyer. When approached for instructions, the accused
truthfully admitted the crime. The lawyer, however, advised the accused to
plead “not guilty” and defended him and left it to the prosecution to prove the
guilt of the accused if it could. It was correct law and procedure, but it was
not helping justice.
The
contradiction is inherent in the profession, irrespective of the personality of
the lawyers. They must make their living by defending their clients and
winning, if possible, irrespective of justice, which is the function of the
judge who is paid by the State. But it outrages the layman’s conscience when a
lawyer wins a false case, and more so, when he glories in it! But it is unfair
to expect a lawyer to prefer justice to his bread and butter.
It
is doubtful if lawyers are needed in the interests of justice. In the first
place, even now the parties are free to plead their causes personally before
the judges, without the intervention of lawyers. Even today there are
categories of cases–and they are increasing–in which lawyers are excluded, and
judges are expected to do justice all the same. Indeed, such exclusion is
defended in the interests of justice! In the ‘inquisitorial’ system, found in
France and in most European countries, the judge is regarded as an
investigator; it is his job to find out the facts for himself and then apply
the law to them. In the course of his investigation, he can examine witnesses
and take an active part in the proceedings. It seems best to universalise the
system in preference to the ‘contest’ system of England, prevalent in India
today.
If
the presiding judge need, the assistance of ‘officers of the court’, it is better
that he should be given the services of persons versed in law as his
assistants, civil servants like himself who are paid by the State and are
expected to apply a judicial approach to the case under investigation and
render justice, and not of lawyers paid by the clients to urge partisan views
with a view to win, even at the expense of justice. Lawyers rarely give
assistance to the judge with judicial impartiality. Graduates in Jaw are better
employed as judges and their assistants in the civil service than as lawyers
seeking uncertain fortunes by gambling in law courts and valuing legal scores
above justice, promoting speculative litigation and appeals, prolonging trials,
wasting the time of the judges, ruining clients and putting the State to unnecessary
expenditure and the public to needless taxation, and above all, defeating
justice more often than not.
In
so far as lawyers are permitted to advocate the cause of their clients, the
evils listed above may be mitigated considerably if the Lawyers for the losing
party is obliged to pay the costs of the lawyer of the winning party, even as
the losing party has to pay the costs of the winning party. As it is, whatever
happens to his clients, the lawyer is sure of his fees. If he is obliged to
share the risk with his client, he may be more shy in promoting false and
speculative litigation.
The
current philosophy underlying criminal procedure is epitomised in the dictum:
Let a hundred guilty men escape but let no single innocent man suffer. It seems
to overlook the fact that there cannot be a single guilty person without at
least one innocent person having suffered already, and to let a hundred guilty
persons escape is to let at least a hundred innocent persons suffer. It may be
law, but hardly justice. In the pursuit of this philosophy, the accused is
deliberately and invariably advised to plead ‘not guilty’ and the onus is
thrown on the prosecution to prove conclusively the guilt of the accused, and
the benefit of every doubt is given to the accused, resulting often in the
acquittal of the guilty, injury to the innocent and defeat of justice by law.
It promotes the manufacture of extra evidence, more helpful than truthful.
In
criminal cases, the State is the prosecutor on behalf of the public. Except in
rare cases, it is not motivated by antipathy towards, or revenge against, the
accused. Its legal advisers, as competent as the lawyers and the judges, have
to satisfy themselves that there is a prima facie case and substantial
evidence against the accused before launching the prosecution. It seems,
therefore, that justice is better served if the judge gave greater credence to
the evidence of the prosecution and gave it also the benefit of doubt. It seems
desirable that the current philosophy should be radically modified to ensure
that the guilty do not escape and the innocents suffer, and that substantial
justice, which is all that is possible in this imperfect world, should be
preferred to an unattainable absolute justice. There may still be occasional
miscarriages of justice, but they are likely to be far fewer than at present.
The
current law penalises perjury; but it is rarely invoked. Otherwise, the number
of cases would be numerous. Both sides to a case, particularly a criminal case,
cannot be true, and no judge can give judgment in favour of both. It is obvious
that he discredited the evidence of the loser, presumably because it was false.
Every piece of evidence from either side which the judge discarded as false and
unreliable should be punishable for perjury. Greater resort to the penalty for
perjury is likely to diminish it considerably.
The
“rules, procedures and institutions” current in India today have not proved
effective “to protect the freedom of the individual in the organised society.”
They are defective and call for reform. Neither the defects nor the remedies
have been dealt with here exhaustively or expertly for want of competence in
the writer. But it seems to his lay mind that the reforms sketched here will be
a decided improvement on the present situation and give substantial justice,
which is all that any system can give, as absolute justice is unattainable in
this imperfect world. No human institution can be perfect and rise above the
level of the character and integrity of its operators. No improvement may,
however, be spurned because it is less than perfect.