Judicial Boundaries Defined: How the Supreme Court is Curtailing Executive Encroachment on India’s Tribunals

In a decisive reinforcement of judicial independence, the Indian Supreme Court’s November 2025 ruling striking down the Tribunals Reform Act, 2021, represents the culmination of a decades-long struggle against executive and legislative attempts to control quasi-judicial bodies. The Court affirmed that while Parliament has the power to design tribunals, it cannot undermine the constitutional “floor” of independence required for bodies performing judicial functions, specifically mandating judicial dominance in appointments and secure tenures to prevent executive influence. This verdict, part of a persistent “constitutional dialogue,” rejected the government’s pattern of re-legislating previously invalidated provisions and served as a firm boundary against encroachment, ultimately safeguarding the citizen’s right to impartial justice by ensuring tribunals remain free from political pressure and patronage.

Judicial Boundaries Defined: How the Supreme Court is Curtailing Executive Encroachment on India's Tribunals
Judicial Boundaries Defined: How the Supreme Court is Curtailing Executive Encroachment on India’s Tribunals

Judicial Boundaries Defined: How the Supreme Court is Curtailing Executive Encroachment on India’s Tribunals

The relationship between India’s judiciary and the other branches of government is not static; it is a living, breathing dialogue—sometimes a tense negotiation—over the boundaries of power. In a landmark ruling on November 19, 2025, the Supreme Court delivered a decisive statement in this ongoing conversation. By striking down the Tribunals Reform Act, 2021, the Court did more than just invalidate a law; it reinforced a fundamental constitutional principle: the executive cannot control the mechanisms of justice. 

This ruling is the latest chapter in a conflict decades in the making, a struggle that cuts to the heart of what it means to have an independent judiciary in a democratic society. To understand its profound significance, we must look beyond the legal jargon and see the pattern—a persistent executive-legislative attempt to influence adjudicative bodies, met with consistent judicial pushback. 

The Roots of the Conflict: From Emergency Era to Modern Day 

The story begins not in 2021, but in the 1970s. During the Emergency, the 42nd Amendment introduced Articles 323A and 323B, allowing Parliament to transfer jurisdiction from High Courts to tribunals. The intent, widely perceived then and now, was to create a parallel justice system potentially more amenable to government influence. The judiciary, aware of this threat, spent years building safeguards. In the landmark L. Chandra Kumar (1997) case, the Court clarified that tribunals are supplemental to, not substitutes for, High Courts. The principle of “functional equivalence” was born: if a tribunal performs a court’s role, it must possess equivalent independence, security, and capacity. 

The flashpoint emerged around appointments and tenure—the levers of control. The Finance Act, 2017, and its subsequent Rules attempted to standardize tribunals but did so by diluting judicial say in appointments and imposing short, three-year tenures. This was a direct challenge to independence. A short tenure makes members vulnerable; a reappointment process influenced by the executive breeds potential subservience. 

The Supreme Court’s response has been a masterclass in constitutional boundary-setting. In Rojer Mathew (2019), a Constitution Bench struck down the rules, emphasizing “judicial primacy” in appointments as essential to separation of powers. When the government returned with slightly modified rules in 2020 (MBA 2020), the Court again found them wanting and took the extraordinary step of prescribing its own detailed framework for appointments and five-year tenures. 

The government’s next move was telling. It enacted an Ordinance, and later the Tribunals Reform Act, 2021, which brazenly re-legislated provisions already struck down by the Court—the four-year tenure, the dual-name panel for appointments, an age bar of 50. This was no longer mere policy disagreement; it was a provocative challenge to judicial authority. 

MBA 2025: Drawing a Line in the Constitutional Sand 

The 2025 judgement, delivered by Chief Justice Gavai, is significant for its clarity and firmness on two foundational issues. 

First, on the Limits of Legislative Power: The Court outright rejected the notion that Parliament can simply re-enact a law previously declared unconstitutional. Parliament can cure a defect identified by the judiciary, but it cannot ignore it. As the Court stated, to allow such override would “strike at the core of the constitutional arrangement.” This is a crucial affirmation of the rule of law and the finality of constitutional interpretation by the Supreme Court. 

Second, on the Non-Negotiables of Tribunal Independence: The judgement crystallizes the irreducible minimum standards for tribunals exercising judicial functions: 

  • Judicial Dominance in Appointments: The process must ensure that the judiciary has the decisive voice in selecting members. This is the only guarantee against executive patronage determining who sits in judgement over the executive’s own actions. 
  • Secure Tenure: A term too short, coupled with the possibility of reappointment, is an instrument of potential pressure. The Court has firmly held that a four-year term is insufficient; five years is the constitutional floor. 
  • Service Conditions Conducive to Independence: Fixing salaries and benefits at the mercy of the executive, or linking them to equivalent bureaucratic posts, undermines the perception and reality of impartiality. 

Justice K. Vinod Chandran’s pithy concurrence, calling the Act “old wine in a new bottle,” captured the essence of the government’s approach—a change of label without a change of substance. 

The Human Insight: Why This Technical Battle Matters 

This is far from an abstract, inter-institutional turf war. It has real, tangible consequences for every citizen’s access to justice. 

Imagine a taxpayer challenging the government before the Income Tax Appellate Tribunal, or a pensioner disputing a decision before the Central Administrative Tribunal. The fairness of that hearing hinges on the member’s perception: Are they free to decide based solely on law and fact, or are they subconsciously—or consciously—weighing the impact of their decision on their own career prospects and reappointment? A tribunal member serving a brief term, reliant on government goodwill for an extension, cannot project the same fearless independence as a High Court judge with constitutional security. 

The Supreme Court’s insistence on these standards is, therefore, an effort to preserve the citizen’s right to a fair hearing before a truly impartial forum. It is about maintaining the quality of justice in specialized areas like tax, environment, and service matters that affect millions. 

A Pattern of Impunity and the Court’s Stern Message 

The most revealing aspect of this saga is the government’s repeated strategy: test the boundary, retreat when struck down, and return with a marginally modified version, hoping for a different outcome or to wear down judicial resolve. The Court’s expressed “disapproval” of this conduct and its invocation of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar’s words on the rule of law were unusually strong rebukes from the Bench. 

This pattern points to a deeper trend in constitutional governance: an executive increasingly confident in testing and stretching institutional limits. The Court’s unanimous and firm response across multiple benches and Chief Justhips—from Gogoi to Ramana, Chandrachud, and now Gavai—shows a rare and remarkable consistency in the judiciary’s defense of this core principle. 

The Path Forward: A Commission, Not Control 

In its constructive gesture, the Court has repeatedly advocated for a National Tribunals Commission—an independent, expert body to oversee tribunal appointments and administration, insulating the process from direct executive control. By directing its establishment within four months, the Court has offered a solution, not just a critique. This body could professionalize the ecosystem, ensuring both independence and efficiency, moving the debate from conflict to constructive institution-building. 

Conclusion: A Firm Foundation for Justice 

The MBA 2025 judgement is a cornerstone in India’s constitutional edifice. It affirms that the architecture of justice—who appoints, for how long, and under what conditions—cannot be designed by those whose actions will be scrutinized by that very architecture. The Supreme Court has not claimed supremacy over policy but has steadfastly guarded the preconditions for impartial adjudication. 

In this continuing dialogue, the Court has sent a clear message: while Parliament designs the house, the judiciary will ensure its foundation is solid, independent, and built to withstand the pressures of power. For the citizen, this technical, behind-the-scenes battle ensures that when they walk into a tribunal, they are walking into a court of law, not an extended government department. That assurance is the bedrock of public trust in a democratic system.