Categories
Law Schools

Why I wish law schools would organise more court visits

AbhinavSekhri_NationalLawSchoolofIndiaUniversityMy first court visit, during an internship, remains etched in my memory. Visitor pass in hand, I entered the Supreme Court, gazing awestruck at the beautiful façade. I set out to find Courtroom Number 12. How hard could it be? Very hard indeed. It took me half an hour, during which I was even ushered out of a judges’ enclosure, and I missed the matter. I later discovered that this was a rite of passage. All my classmates had stories of getting lost in the winding corridors of court complexes.

Today, only after some months of running around the many district courts of Delhi am I able to carry myself about with a measure of certainty. I discovered many previously unknown parts of court complexes. On its face, a court is little more than the main building with many small courtrooms inside. Only when you get your elbows into work do you discover what lies beneath. Inside the courtroom itself, there is a lot that goes on beyond the interaction between a lawyer and a judge. The judge is assisted by a Reader who handles all administrative work inside the room and the Ahlmad who is charged with handling all judicial files for that court. Outside courts, areas are designated for lawyers’ chambers, and all sorts of para-legal assistance — typists to help with an application, oath commissioners for the accompanying affidavit, and copiers to get the several copies that courts require.

The library and canteen are more interesting. At the court libraries, there are lawyers deeply engrossed in commentaries and preparing their arguments, while others rush in and out looking for copies of cases in matters that are currently being argued. At the canteens, there are tables where lawyers gossip and others where the discussion is about an issue of law.

Windingstaircase_MadrasHighCourtThough a very interesting one, my process of discovering courts left me with some concerns. Courts seemed to pay little or no attention to the ordinary litigant. Lawyers on the other hand, were demigods. Buildings have complex layouts with little or no directional assistance to get around. Security passes at the higher courts automatically exclude litigants without readily available identity proofs but anyone in black and white will manage to enter them unchecked. The bureaucratic dependence on files breeds corruption by creating more palms to grease for any work that needs to be done. Given the scale of the problem, it seems the common litigant can only hope to snigger and chip away, one date at a time.

Courts would certainly benefit from fresh ideas, but where will these come from? A university is the best place for the germination of fresh ideas, but law students are afforded little or no opportunities to familiarise themselves with the problem. Most students only get an opportunity to attend court during internships. But in those few weeks, there is rarely time to explore the court. More exposure to the court would also allow students to make better decisions about their careers.

(Abhinav Sekhri is an advocate practising in Delhi.)

Categories
Human Rights

Three women from smaller towns are breaking the mould and representing the poor and the socially backward

RatlamMunicipality_VRKrishnaIyer_CrPC

Over three decades after the Supreme Court recognised and encouraged the use of the judiciary to enforce remedies against the state, Sarojani Tamshetty, 29, an advocate practising in Solapur, is using Section 133 of the Code of Criminal Procedure, 1973 (“CrPC”) to ensure that basic rights, including the rights to drinking water and sanitation, are not denied to the citizens of her city. Sections 49 and 50 of the Maharashtra Municipalities Act, 1965 obligates every municipal corporation to provide drinking water and sanitation to citizens. Solapur had been at the receiving end of its municipality’s inaction in this regard. The urban poor, doubly hit by their inability to access municipal offices, were most severely affected. Ms. Tamshetty stepped in and filed a complaint before the jurisdictional magistrate under Section 133 of the CrPC. An order was issued to the municipal authorities and the municipality eventually took action and commissioned water supply and sanitation projects.

Using legal notices to secure rights for the urban poor

Manish_goodhumanrightslawyeringIn non-municipal areas, the district administration and revenue authorities wield significant power. While the ordinary method of seeking redress from such authorities is by submitting applications and representations, it leaves the question of what to do in case the authority in question fails to respond. Ms. Tamshetty came up with a unique way of resolving this. After submitting several representations to the Solapur district administration for the implementation of the Sanjay Gandhi Niradhar Anudan Yojana (a scheme for provision of financial assistance to destitute persons) and not receiving any response, she issued a legal notice to the District Collector. The notice resulted in funds being sanctioned for the scheme and the appointment of a committee for receiving applications and disbursing the amount.

Legal notices have also been used to good effect by Salma Bano, a 26-year old lawyer practising in Nabarangpur, Odisha. An unscrupulous contractor had illegally confiscated the job cards of a few poor labourers under the National Rural Employment Guarantee Act, 2005 (“NREGA”). After they approached her, Ms. Bano issued a legal notice to the contractor, directing him to return the cards. These cards were returned to their rightful owners.

Litigating for victims of domestic violence

SarojaniThamshetty_humanrightsadvocateShe also handles a number of cases of domestic violence, where besides providing legal assistance, the lawyer is often required to extensively counsel her client, who may also be in need of medical assistance. In most of these cases, the victims seek an end to the violence and a means of sustenance, but do not wish to initiate criminal proceedings against their violent husbands. The Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005 is a useful tool in such cases, for claiming a variety of civil remedies including protection orders, residence orders, and maintenance. The advocate also has to coordinate with protection officers for getting these orders implemented. Ms. Bano, who hails from an educationally backward area and a socially conservative community, takes pride in convincing members of her community to come out of their conservative mindsets, through her use of the law for making claims that have contributed to the advancement of her community. Says she, “The same people who opposed me earlier, now come to me seeking advice with their problems.

For Begum Rehana, the path to becoming a lawyer started at home – out of her own lived experience with domestic violence. Having gone through the difficulty of finding a supportive and affordable lawyer, especially in the conservative neighbourhood of the Old City in Hyderabad, she vowed never to be dependent on anyone again, and began studying and later practising law. Today, she enables several poor women, deserted by their husbands, to claim their legal rights to maintenance and residence. The Muslim Women (Protection of Rights on Divorce) Act, 1986, as interpreted by the Supreme Court, obligates a husband to make reasonable provision for maintenance of his wife (for her entire lifetime) within the iddat period (approximately three months from the date of the divorce). Ms. Rehana has used this law to good effect, helping several women obtain maintenance from their husbands. In circumstances where the husband is unable to pay, this responsibility ultimately falls on the State Wakf Board. In some such cases, Ms. Rehana has also obtained orders from a family court, directing the Wakf Board to pay maintenance to the destitute woman. The matter does not end there. The advocate also has to repeatedly visit the office of the Wakf Board and file right to information applications to ensure that the amount is finally disbursed to the woman.

SalmaBano_humanrightsadvocateLitigating cases of domestic violence or maintenance involves a fair amount of client counselling, especially during the trial at the stage of cross-examination. Often, women in such situations are already overwhelmed by their circumstances, and hence it is extremely important for an advocate to speak to the client and build up her confidence, so that she is able to withstand gruelling cross-examination by the opposing counsel. The most important thing, according to Rehana, both legally and psychologically, is to demand maintenance as a matter of right rather than charity.

Spreading awareness, filing RTI applications

Ms. Rehana also works with a local women’s collective, Shaheen, on spreading awareness in her community, especially among women, about access to government schemes and entitlements, such as scholarships, ration cards, and other government schemes providing financial assistance to women who have been victims of violence. Other means of enabling people to claim their entitlements under various schemes or legislations include using the Right to Information Act, 2005 to get information about the implementation of schemes and budgetary allocations. Generally, Ms. Rehana’s experience has been that officials are sometimes uncooperative or reluctant to disclose information but tend to become responsive when proceedings are initiated before the appellate authority or the state information commissions.

Overcoming the absence of role models

Ms. Tamshetty, Ms. Bano, and Rehana also work with the district legal services authority, as empanelled lawyers or otherwise. This gives them exposure to a wide range of legal issues faced by people who are socially and economically backward.

As with any other profession, litigation is also gendered. All of them report having encountered hurdles and obstacles in their career path, ranging from opposition from their families to sexist behaviour from their male colleagues. A major issue is the absence of senior female advocates at the district court level, for mentorship or just as role models. Another obstacle is that at the district court level, women are discouraged from taking up criminal litigation because it is “not suitable” for them, and advised to stick to the civil side instead. Institutional and organisational support for grassroots lawyers however, is available in the form of fellowships, including the Human Rights Law Defenders program by the Sahyog Trust, the Young Lawyers for Justice fellowships by the Committee for Legal Aid to Poor, and the Lawyers For Change fellowships by Econet and Centre for Social Justice. Ms. Tamshetty, Ms. Bano, and Ms. Rehana, have availed of one or more of these fellowships, and recognise their great value as learning resources, especially in terms of enabling them to interact and learn from other advocates doing similar work in other parts of the country. Given that human rights lawyering is not commercially remunerative, such fellowships also provide useful financial support.

(Manish is a legal researcher based in Ahmedabad.)

Categories
Supreme Court of India

Goolam Vahanvati was immaculately prepared, a master strategist, and a great teacher

RohitSharmaI joined the chambers of Goolam Vahanvati (‘Sir’, to me) on August 6, 2007, the day before final arguments commenced in the reservations case before a Constitution bench of the Supreme Court. I remember gaping incredulously at Sir’s copy of the mammoth judgment in Indra Sawhney’s Case, printed and spiral bound, colour-coded flags marking the start of each judge’s opinion and the important paragraphs in each of the several issues considered by the nine judges. As I would learn in the weeks that followed, that judgment had been the backbone of his case, and he knew each vertebra from every conceivable angle.

For the next seven years, in case after case of national importance, I sat beside him as he defended the Union of India, and each time I witnessed the same routine of immaculate preparation.

Preparation was an obsession. He read all his files himself and reserved conferences with briefing counsel for what seemed to be his favourite pastime, that of chastising junior advocates for skipping what suddenly became the most crucial document in the file. When I showed him a judgment on a point of law he wanted researched, he would never go straight to the ‘relevant’ paragraph that I had pointed out. Instead, he would first read the facts of that case, then he would start reading a few paragraphs prior to the one I had indicated, and then finally, he would tell me why the judgment I had dug out could easily be twisted against us by the other side. Youngsters these days, he could often be heard telling a junior advocate, mindlessly punch in key words into a search engine instead of grinding it out with a treatise or a digest. On the rare occasion that a junior pulled out a satisfactory judgment, he would want to know which subsequent judgments referred to that judgment, and all the judgments that this judgment had relied on. “You must show the judges the best judgment in your favour. You will never get past the first one if they don’t like it.”

In a profession naively obsessed with discovering the ‘smartest’ and the most ‘quick-witted’ lawyers, Goolam Vahanvati repeatedly showed that cases are won not by speakers that enthral the visitors’ gallery, but by court-craft and strategy grounded in perfect preparation.

GoolamVahanvati

He often spoke about his days as a young lawyer at the Bombay High Court. He never joined a senior lawyer’s practice after he lost his father when he was just two years old at the Bar, but he absorbed different qualities from the different seniors that he observed or assisted. He often said he had learnt the most from ‘Fali’, telling us about the long hours of work he had to put in to meet the extremely high standards that Mr. Nariman expected. During final hearings that stretched out over long periods, when judges would discuss amongst themselves the submissions of counsel, Sir would suddenly ask us, his junior advocates, what the judges were whispering to each other. “You must learn to lip-read”, he would say. “When we were juniors in Bombay High Court, most lawyers would be busy asking how well they were doing, or be looking around the courtroom to see who was hearing them. But Mr. Nariman would be straining to know what the judges were whispering, to know if there were any concerns that needed to be addressed.”

Mr. Vahanvati was universally regarded at the Bar as having a very gentle and respectful style of argument. A master-strategist with a razor sharp mind, he had an uncanny ability to know what another person was thinking about. He also had an amazing sense of humour. During a critical phase of arguments before a Constitution bench, a few days after my daughter was born, one of the judges persisted with a line of questions on an issue where our case was weak. I was sitting three seats away from him. Any other day, sitting in the front row of the most hallowed courtroom in the country, he would have expected us to wear the most respectful and somber expression. That day, exasperated at the judge’s repeated refusal to accept his dodge, Sir whispered at me, “Rohit, you just had a daughter na? Uska pacifier kal lana court mein!”

What really defined Mr. Vahanvati’s advocacy was his effectiveness. His immaculate preparation, eloquence, deference, court-craft, and strategy were geared towards extracting the most favourable order possible for his client in the circumstances – the facts of the case, the bench before which it was listed, and the opposition. I have never heard of another lawyer who, in a review petition, convinced the judges to overturn their own judgment passed suo motu in public interest. Mr. Vahanvati did just that in the case about the appointment of retired judges as Central Information Commissioners under the Right to Information Act, 2002.

During my first month in his office, Sir would often come to the room where we juniors sat, and tell me, “You must ask yourselves, what did I learn today?” As we try to come to terms with the untimely passing away of a great teacher and a true doyen of the Bar, having experienced by his side, seven years of controversial professional life, I can say that I am honoured to have learnt from the best.

Rohit Sharma is an advocate practising before the Supreme Court of India.

Categories
Supreme Court of India

Speedy justice versus court vacations: A false dilemma

NoticeAndStayAdityaVerma_SupremeCourtcolumnThere is a theory that legislation in support of compulsory military service for those who turn eighteen is very easy to get popular support for. Those who vote on it will never be directly affected by it, and those who will be directly affected do not have a vote. Lawyers as a class do not tend to get much public sympathy either (one wonders why!). It should come as no surprise then that the debate about scrapping court vacations has been publicly characterised as “lawyers (who oppose the proposal) versus everybody else (litigants and judges)”.

Such a characterisation does not do justice to the gravity of the issue at hand. The suggestion of the Chief Justice of India is a serious one and deserves thoughtful consideration. Instead of it being a concrete debate with number and figures, what we have today are platitudes about docket backlog, interspersed with remarks about how lawyers love their vacations (they do, nothing wrong in that!) and whether they deserve them (which is the wrong question).

The correct question is about defining clear targets for the legal system to improve the pace and quality of delivery of justice. Despite its abstract moral grandeur, administration of justice is ultimately a service provided by the State. Different courts deal with different kinds of cases and have varying levels of docket backlog. Consequently, strategies to reduce case pendency have to be court-specific. From this perspective, the process of consultation initiated by the Chief Justice is a welcome step. However, if responses to the consultation process are limited to the question of doing away with court vacations, it will be difficult to assess the success of such a measure in reducing case pendency due to the absence of specific targets.

Our collective aim must be to reduce case pendency without compromising on the quality of administration of justice. The length of vacations (or their absence altogether) is only an instrument to that end. The proposal of 365-day courts is only a skeletal one at the moment, which raises legitimate concerns for advocates in particular. When can an advocate travel out of station? What would the court’s policy be on granting adjournments if an advocate is away on holiday? Will there be different standards for Advocates-on-Record? Will this make it more difficult for clients to rely on individual practitioners (as opposed to larger law firms where one advocate may be able to step in for another more readily)?

Chief Justice of India, Justice Rajendra Mal Lodha. Image is from the Press Information Bureau.
Chief Justice of India, Justice Rajendra Mal Lodha. Original image is from the Press Information Bureau.

If a court-specific approach is adopted, naturally, the best place for the Chief Justice (together with the Ministry of Law and Justice) to start tackling case pendency will be the Supreme Court. Numbers and figures of case pendency for the Supreme Court are relatively easily accessible. The next step in the debate should be to identify the kinds of cases which merit priority (for instance, criminal and matrimonial cases), and publicly communicate statistically achievable overall targets of case disposal in the short and medium-term.

If meeting these targets requires reducing vacation periods, appointment of more judges and increasing their retirement age, ad hoc appointment of retired judges for specific cases, tweaking the daily working hours of the Court, altering the weekly split between ‘miscellaneous’ hearings and regular hearings, detailed ‘case management’ hearings in complex cases (illustration here), strict and consistent policies on adjournments, or even increasing the capacity of the Supreme Court registry, then those measures should be adopted. Without having particular outcomes in mind we can be sure that we will never fall short. Nor will we know how much we should have achieved!

(Aditya Verma practices as an Advocate at the Supreme Court of India. He is an alumnus of NLSIU, Bangalore, and is on the roll of solicitors in England and Wales.)

Categories
Human Rights

File criminal complaints and not writ petitions in extra-judicial execution cases – Rajvinder Singh Bains

Manish_goodhumanrightslawyeringHuman rights lawyers are not always advocating for the defence in criminal cases. There are often situations, such as extra-judicial killings, where the state has exercised power with impunity and a human rights lawyer has to prosecute in order to secure justice. This switching of roles is familiar to Rajvinder Singh Bains, an advocate who has, for almost thirty years, fought for the families of the victims of extra-judicial executions in the Punjab – the so-called “disappearances” of the 1980s. When I met him at his Chandigarh residence on a Sunday morning in May, he was still euphoric from having secured, a couple of days earlier, a conviction in the Kuljeet Singh Dhatt disappearance case.

A challenging environment to work in

Mr. Bains fought his cases in one of the most challenging situations possible for a human rights lawyer. During the disturbances of the late 1980s and the early 1990s, Punjab presented an atmosphere of continuous hostility and danger. According to Mr. Bains, lawyers defending people accused of offences were picked up and killed. The judiciary too, was completely unresponsive and Mr. Bains told me how at the High Court, habeas corpus petitions were summarily dismissed without even notice to the state. In fact, the judges would reprimand the petitioners for interfering in law and order issues. Warrants for the arrest of police officers were returned unserved and without any follow-up action. The situation at the trial courts was often far worse, with judges often being threatened and intimidated to the point where only the prosecution’s voice was heard in the courtroom. Most cases were registered under the draconian Terrorist and Disruptive Activities (Prevention) Act, 1987 (“TADA”) and trials were held in jail, where most trial court lawyers would not even enter. The few that did visit jails were threatened and practiced law in spite of the risk to their lives. All of them, Mr. Bains told me, eventually became successful lawyers.

Lawyers in this situation, he said, must be prepared for anything from anonymous abusive calls to death threats, mentioning that his own father was threatened with phone calls warning of danger to his son. In certain cases, as in Punjab, the Supreme Court has stepped in and provided protection for lawyers arguing human rights cases, which is very helpful.

The modus operandi of the police in Punjab was to pick up persons whom they suspected of being involved in terrorist acts or disruptive activities, torture, and kill them extra-judicially. The police would then target their “support groups” of friends and family with false TADA cases even though these people were not involved in any way. This, Mr. Bains said, was the reason for a high number of acquittals in cases under TADA. The police often did not have even a shred of evidence against those that they accused. Mr. Bains narrated an incident where he pointed out to a judge in court that those listed as “proclaimed offenders” in a TADA case were in fact all dead. The judge ordered an investigation and the prosecution of the police officer involved, but the Supreme Court later quashed the case on unrelated grounds.

Born into human rights lawyering

Even these challenging circumstances did not demoralise Mr. Bains. Rather, they contributed to his learning curve. Originally trained as an engineer (“because the engineering college was right next door”), he started taking evening classes in law.

RajiwinderBains
Rajvinder SIngh Bains
Picture courtesy: Arjun Sheoran

He was no stranger to the profession. His father was Ajit Singh Bains, a judge who, after retirement, founded the Punjab Human Rights Organisation and devoted himself to the cause of securing justice for the victims of the large-scale human rights violations taking place in Punjab. Mr. Bains started out in 1985 by assisting his father, counseling the victims and their families who approached the organisation. Eventually, he began arguing cases himself and thus began a career that has continued for almost three decades. The Dhatt disappearance case in which he secured a conviction recently, was also the first case that he argued in court.

Criminal complaints and the importance of evidence

The case was about the disappearance of a person after the police had picked him up. The prosecution’s version was that he had escaped from police custody. In the initial stages of an enquiry conducted by a retired judge, he filed an application to inspect the site where the victim had allegedly “escaped”. The police would protest and object at every stage, but with a great deal of difficulty he managed to obtain an order and inspect the site. It was a forty-foot deep gorge surrounded by a sandy area where it would be impossible for a handcuffed person to escape. Mr. Bains said that the police would try hard to suppress evidence if they knew that there was nothing in their favour.

Evidence provides an enormous advantage at the trial courts because they are bound by the evidence led – which in such cases, is likely to be stronger on the side of the victim rather than the state. In hindsight, Mr. Bains said, particularly after observing the Gujarat prosecutions, he should have filed criminal complaints in all cases, rather than writ petitions.

Mr. Bains would now advise his clients against approaching a superior court at the initial stage because of the discretion vested in them. The danger of this discretionary power at the higher courts is that it goes by public opinion – and as a victim, there is generally a much higher chance of success on the basis of evidence. Even in a politically polarised situation, the most practical remedy is to file criminal complaints, prosecute them, carefully collect evidence, and present it before court. While these cases start very slowly and may initially give the appearance that there is no chance of success, most of them in fact do succeed. Of course, these cases are largely dependent on strong witnesses, and there is a need to have witness protection programmes, particularly in cases against state officials. Mr. Bains pointed out that in the cases that he took up, most of the witnesses were extremely intimidated because they were from rural backgrounds and the accused were very senior police officers.

Financing a human rights practice amidst political polarisation

Working in a politically polarised situation also comes with its own dangers.  Funding is a sensitive issue while arguing human rights cases. Mr. Bains cautions against blindly accepting foreign funding, narrating incidents where traps were laid by state agencies to implicate human rights lawyers and organisations on spurious grounds. Indeed, a recent report by the Intelligence Bureau once again raises the bogey of foreign-funded NGOs indulging in ‘anti national activities’ under the garb of human rights. In addition, while some victims’ families may be rich and able to support the lawyer financially, a majority of them are not in a position to do so. As a lawyer, one way of supporting a human rights practice is to cross-subsidise it by taking up some commercial cases as well. It took Mr. Bains more than a decade to start earning. In his initial days, it was service law and commercial matters that subsidised his human rights practice.

His advice to young lawyers is to be positive and find a good mentor. Human rights lawyering requires a lot of dedication to be able to tirelessly pursue cases for twenty years, and continue the fight for justice. It is also a continuous learning experience. “Even after 30 years, I don’t feel like a master”, he said. While the profession demands a lot of commitment, it is also very empowering and positive, with good seniors who constantly offer encouragement to young lawyers.

(Manish is a legal researcher based in Delhi.)