The ancient Indian philosophy of governance is rooted in a profound principle: ‘धर्मेण राज्यं धार्यते’. This Sanskrit phrase translates to the idea that the state and its administration are sustained and governed by Dharma.

This is not a new concept but a philosophy that recurs frequently in our civilizational texts, most notably in the Mahabharata, specifically within the Shanti Parva and Anushasana Parva. Similarly, the concept of Rajdharma (the duty of the ruler) as outlined in the Manusmriti carries this identical essence. Even the pragmatic principles laid down by the ancient scholar Kautilya regarding statecraft and justice are built upon this very foundation.

In the Shanti Parva, the grand patriarch Bhishma Pitamah instructs Yudhishthira that the primary duty of a king is the administration of justice. Crucially, he emphasizes that the foundation of this justice is Dharma, not fluctuating public sentiment. Indian tradition has consistently held that a nation is governed by the rule of law and righteousness, not by emotions. Dharma, in this context, incorporates justice, established rules, and societal decorum.

Even in our modern democracy, this philosophy remains the bedrock of the judicial system. The greatest strength of the Indian judiciary lies in its independence; it is designed to be neither driven by powerful individuals nor guided by the roar of mobs. However, we are witnessing a disturbing trend where an organised ideological gang has consistently attempted to get the judiciary bogged down by a mobocracy. In this distorted version of justice, empathy seeks to replace the written law, religious identity attempts to replace hard evidence, and a curated narrative becomes decisive in delivering verdicts.

The pattern is stark. Whenever an Islamic terrorist, a leftist thinker, or a so-called ‘minority icon’ fails to receive the verdict they desire, the Islamo-left alliance resorts to pressure tactics to bend the judicial system to their will. Suddenly, the public sphere is filled with clamours of ‘danger to the Constitution,’ ‘death of Human rights,’ and ‘the judiciary succumbing to fascism,’ which grow louder and noisier by the day.

This pattern has been repeated consistently over the past few years, stretching from the execution of Yakub Memon to the incarceration of Umar Khalid. From the mainstream media to left-liberal intellectuals and appeasing politicians, everyone unanimously puts the judiciary in the dock. The discourse shifts dangerously: the question is no longer what the law of the land says, but rather what the ‘sentiment of a religious mob’ wants.

Khalid and Imam: Where Religious Identity Supersedes Legal Reality

Currently, both Umar Khalid and Sharjeel Imam are facing serious charges involving divisive speeches, inciting violence, and engaging in anti-national conspiracies. As per the standard legal procedure, the courts are examining the evidence and following due process. However, this adherence to the law is unacceptable to the left-liberal cabal. For this group, bail is viewed not as a legal remedy subject to conditions, but as an ideological right. Consequently, when bail is denied based on the merits of the case, the court is immediately termed as ‘insensitive.’

This entire discussion conveniently overlooks a fundamental truth: emotions do not govern the law. The legal question of bail is determined by specific factors: the gravity of the charges, the weight of the evidence, the specific role of the accused, and the current status of the investigation. Yet, every time courts deliver judgments in accordance with the law in such cases, a concerted narrative of justice being ‘insensitive’ begins to emerge.

It is worth asking: did these riot conspirators show the so-called ‘sensitivity’ towards the victims of the anti-Hindu riots in Delhi in 2020? The media machinery that is currently showering pity on the riot accused who were denied bail did not appear nearly as aggressive when advocating for the victims of violence, arson, and murder during those riots. This raises a critical question: Will the definition of sensitivity be decided based on religious identity?

The Outcry Surrounding Kuldeep Sengar’s Interim Relief

Interestingly, the hypocrisy becomes evident when we look at other cases. The same Islamo-left gang that created an uproar when Umar Khalid and Sharjeel Imam were denied legal relief was wailing when the Delhi High Court granted bail to Kuldeep Sengar. In this instance, the problem wasn’t the legal conditions of the bail, but the fact that the court did not deliver a decision that suited the mob’s demands. The message sent to the judiciary was clear: either decide according to their standard of ‘morality’ or be ready to be labelled as ‘insensitive.’

This double standard is no coincidence; it is a feature of their strategy. On the one hand, if the accused belongs to a certain ideology or religious identity, bail becomes a ‘human right.’ On the other hand, if the accused falls outside that identity, the bail is declared a ‘travesty of justice.’ In reality, this is not justice, but identity-based morality. Justice—specifically the legal remedy of bail—is portrayed as questionable simply because of the accused’s identity (Hindu).

Yakub Memon: Prioritizing Identity Over Terror Convictions

The night of July 30, 2015, is etched in the history of Indian judicial history. Yakub Memon, the terrorist convicted for his role in the devastating Mumbai bombings, had undergone a proper, exhaustive legal trial. Years of hearings, appeals, and reconsiderations—everything was done in accordance with the law. Yet, the rush to open the Supreme Court in the wee hours that day appeared like some judicial emergency had come up.

Who showed up at the court's gates in the middle of the night? The same Islamo-left gang—the same lawyers, the same activists, the same TV faces who appear in the cases mentioned above. The sentiments were identical—pity for the terrorist (associated with a particular religious identity), and silence for the victims of the blasts.

The question here wasn’t about the hanging of the terror convict. The question was whether the punishment for terrorism would also be determined based on identity? Is being a Muslim an immunity against the law of the land?

Karthigai Deepam: When Validating Hindu Faith Becomes an Offense

The targeting of judges extends beyond criminal cases into cultural ones. There were strident demands of impeachment against Justice Swaminathan, who delivered the verdict on Tamil Nadu’s Karthigai Deepam festival. The reason for this outrage? The decision favoured Hindu tradition. The message was clear – if you sit in court and legitimise Hindu faith, your position will be destabilised.

Ayodhya Verdict, Justice Gogoi, and Justice Chandrachud

This pressure is applied at the very highest levels. Former Chief Justice of India Ranjan Gogoi was relentlessly targeted after delivering the historic Ram Temple verdict. Following that decision, every subsequent decision and every appointment he made was linked back to that verdict in an attempt to malign his intent.

Moreover, a similar narrative was constructed around former Chief Justice of India DY Chandrachud. After a photo of him with Prime Minister Narendra Modi at a Ganesh Puja surfaced, a narrative was created, making it almost criminal for a judge to display his faith, and suggesting that the judiciary had surrendered to the government. This begs the question: Are only those who are godless, traditionless and uprooted fit to be judges?

Pressure tactics against the Indian judiciary are not a new phenomenon. In numerous cases involving Islamic terrorism, whether they involve accused of banned organisations or incidents of riots and violence, the same old script comes into play. Legitimate arrests are labelled ‘harassment,’ rigorous chargesheets are called ‘political revenge,’ and fair trials are dismissed as ‘Islamophobia.’

The entire narrative is created and peddled by people who have spent years trying to establish that if the accused is Muslim, the law must be extra ‘sensitive,’ as if the law sees through a religious lens. The pressure isn’t limited to the media; it extends to the court environment, public discourse, and administrative decisions.

The Coercive Power of ‘Minority’ Politics

It’s no secret that certain ideological groups have been imposing their narrative on the judiciary and administration. The term ‘minority’ is used as a shield to raise suspicion about every legal process. When an accused belongs to a particular ideological or religious identity, the criminal charge against him is viciously portrayed as ‘political dissent.’

These are the tactics used to pressure the judicial institutions. The courts are expected to look not at the law or evidence, but at the religious sentiments of the crowd and social media trends. The courts are expected not to make a legally valid decision, but to appease emotions. This is not justice; this is appeasement.

A large part of the mainstream media passes its own judgment instead of asking questions. It presents court orders out of context and exerts moral pressure on judges. This is not journalism, but ideological activism. This is the same media that remains conspicuously silent on the suffering of victims, but devotes hours of prime time to the ‘feelings’ of the accused.

The mob wants quick results. Law takes time. The mob wants slogans. The law demands evidence. The mob seeks emotional satisfaction. Law seeks truth. This is why when courts don’t toe the line, they are labelled ‘anti-democratic.’ This is what the courts did in the cases of Umar Khalid and Sharjeel Imam. They followed the law, leaving aside the emotional cacophony. This is what makes the Islamo-Left alliance uncomfortable.

The Vedic Perspective: Justice Detached from Sentiment

In the Indian Vedic tradition, justice was never subordinate to emotion. The principle is न धर्मात् परो धर्मः, meaning there is nothing above Dharma (justice). The Manusmriti states, “When justice is destroyed, the people are destroyed. Neither the king nor the enemy, no one is spared.”

This is why, in Indian tradition, a judge is expected to be free from any pressure, beyond fear, and not devoid of faith, but rather devoted to Dharma (justice). Justice does not mean compassion, but rather a decision in accordance with Dharma (justice). Compassion, as a characteristic, is meant for the individuals, not for the judicial system. This is the fundamental distinction, which is being deliberately erased in today’s discourse.

A society that surrenders justice to emotional blackmail ultimately betrays its victims. The Vedic tradition has taught us that the Dharma of justice transcends coercion/identity. To preserve justice, it must be free from sentiment. When courts become afraid of the mob, anarchy, and not democracy, will emerge. The same anarchy of ‘सर तन से जुदा’ (Islamic calls for beheading) that we see on the streets today.