Politics

Selective Secularism: Behind The Unequal Scrutiny Of Judges G.R. Swaminathan And Honey M Varghese

K Balakumar | Dec 18, 2025, 11:25 AM | Updated 12:21 PM IST

Justices GR Swaminathan (left) and Honey M Varghese (right).

The contrasting public and political responses to Justice GR Swaminathan's 'Deepam' order and Judge Honey M Varghese's verdict in the Dileep case expose a deeper tension between judicial independence and ideological examination.

In any democracy, judges are meant to be insulated from ideological witch-hunts. Their judgments may be debated, appealed against, and even criticised. But they cannot be put to political loyalty tests.

Yet, in recent weeks, two names from the Indian judiciary, Justice G.R. Swaminathan of the Madras High Court and Justice Honey M Varghese of the Ernakulam District and Sessions Court, have been drawn into public controversy in sharply unequal ways. The contrast raises an uncomfortable question as to whether judges are being scrutinised for their conduct and record, or for the ideologies they are presumed to represent.

Justice G.R. Swaminathan faces calls for an impeachment motion. The trigger is not an allegation of corruption, moral turpitude, or proven judicial impropriety. It is a verdict that went against the Tamil Nadu government, followed by a sudden attempt to portray the judge as ideologically compromised due to his perceived proximity to Hindu thought and cultural positions.

The charge sheet against him is thin on substance, but thick with insinuation.

By contrast, Justice Honey M Varghese has faced far more serious allegations, including repeated pleas by the survivor in the high-profile actor Dileep case seeking that she be replaced as the judge in the matter. Yet there has been no comparable campaign for impeachment or public vilification against her.

Despite reports of her early political affiliations, including a background in Left politics and a Communist family milieu, she is the daughter of M.M. Varghese, the former Thrissur district secretary of the CPI(M), no organised outrage has followed. There have been no breathless calls to ‘protect secularism’ or to rescue the judiciary from ideological capture.

Verdicts as political triggers

In Justice Swaminathan’s case, it bears emphasis that there was no demand for his recusal before the judgment was delivered. No litigant sought a change of bench. No apprehension of bias was placed on record.

The outcry erupted only after the verdict failed to align with the expectations of the state government or its ideological ecosystem.

This sequence matters. In law, perceived bias must be raised at the earliest opportunity, and not retrofitted after an unfavourable outcome. To do otherwise is to convert judicial review into a game of political roulette.

Compare this with the Dileep case. The survivor, through at least three formal pleas, sought a change of judge, citing apprehensions that went to the heart of procedural fairness. These were not ideological objections, but concerns raised by a party directly affected by the proceedings.

Yet the outrage industry has been curiously muted. No street-corner constitutionalism. No moral panic. No impeachment rhetoric.

If the yardstick were truly judicial propriety, one would expect the opposite reaction.

Ideology as disqualifier, but only one way

What appears to animate the campaign against Justice Swaminathan is not judicial conduct, but ideological discomfort. His writings, speeches elsewhere, and judgments that engage seriously with Hindu civilisational questions have been seized upon as proof of bias.

A judge who expresses sympathy for Hindu concerns is automatically deemed suspect.

Yet the same logic is not applied in reverse.

A judge’s past association with Left ideology, student politics, or Communist activism is treated as irrelevant. There is no demand that such judges be placed under a microscope. No insinuation that their worldview might colour their interpretation of law. No accusation that secularism is under threat.

A particularly troubling aspect of this episode has been the selective moral outrage displayed by influential retired judges, most notably Justice K. Chandru (retd). Swift and scathing in his public criticism of Justice G.R. Swaminathan, Chandru has not merely disagreed with the verdict, but has questioned the very propriety of the judge, lending institutional gravitas to an otherwise politically driven campaign.

That sense of responsibility appears conspicuously absent when it comes to Justice Honey M Varghese.

This asymmetry reveals a deeper malaise. In certain intellectual and political circles, Hindu identity is treated as inherently partisan, while Left or minority-aligned positions are assumed to be neutral, progressive, and therefore judicially harmless.

This is not secularism. It is selective suspicion.

The peril of weaponising impeachment

Impeachment is meant to be an extraordinary constitutional remedy, reserved for grave misconduct. To invoke it as a political signal, or worse, as a warning to judges who dare to rule against the state, is to hollow out its meaning.

Judges are not meant to be ideologically anodyne monks. They are citizens with intellectual traditions, moral frameworks, and personal histories. The test is not whether a judge has beliefs, but whether those beliefs demonstrably distort justice.

In Justice Swaminathan’s case, such distortion has been alleged, not established.

The pattern is familiar. Hindu-linked individuals are asked to prove their neutrality repeatedly, while others are presumed neutral by default. The burden of secularism is imposed unevenly.

The moment a judge articulates concerns about temple administration, religious freedoms of Hindus, or cultural erasure, the charge of ‘bias’ is quickly deployed.

This is not a defence of any one judge. It is a defence of equal standards.

Critique the system, not the individual

None of this is to argue that the judiciary is beyond criticism. Far from it. Delays, opacity in appointments, inconsistent standards, and occasional overreach are legitimate concerns.

But systemic reform cannot be pursued through personalised vendettas against judges whose rulings offend prevailing ideologies.

Motivated calumny does not strengthen institutions. A judiciary constantly looking over its shoulder for ideological retribution cannot function as a fearless arbiter.

A republic cannot survive if judges are assessed not by the Constitution, but by the ideological comfort they provide to those in power. One yardstick must apply to all, regardless of faith, family background, or formative politics.

Anything less is not justice. It is intimidation masquerading as accountability.