(Marathi version of this article was originally published in daily Divya Marathi on 23/11/2025)
Democracy, in its purest moral imagination, is founded upon a simple yet solemn promise: that no citizen shall suffer injustice. The architecture of a democratic republic is expected to be so lucid—its Constitution so luminous, its laws so unambiguous, its procedures so fair and frictionless—that private disputes would rarely arise, offenses would seldom occur, and even when they did, justice would descend swiftly, firmly, and finally. In an ideal democracy, the law does not merely punish; it prevents. The system does not merely adjudicate; it dissuades wrongdoing itself.
But this raises a question of uncomfortable candor: Has India, in the seventy-five years of its independent existence, forged such a justice system?
The honest answer, stripped of diplomatic varnish, is a resounding no.
An Ocean of Pending Justice
Today, more than 53 million cases linger unresolved in courts across the nation—from the humblest taluka court to the marble halls of the Supreme Court. At the current pace of disposal, some experts estimate that it would take more than 300 years to clear this judicial mountain—an estimate that does not include quasi-judicial matters or the relentless inflow of fresh cases every single day. If those were added, the figure would ascend into an almost mythological dimension.
The deepening tragedy becomes clearer when one observes that over 180,000 cases in district and high courts have been pending for more than three decades. Entire generations have lived and died within the shadow of a single dispute. Even more troubling is the fact that almost half of all pending cases involve the government—as a litigant, appellant, or respondent. Twenty percent relate to land and property conflicts; among civil matters, nearly two-thirds are land disputes alone. This is not merely inefficiency; it is an indictment of the State’s own administrative architecture.
Over the last four decades, Law Commissions, scholars, and governments have poured out reports, warnings, and suggestions. New court buildings have sprouted; judicial posts have expanded; budgets have swollen. Yet the mountain of pendency grows like a self-replicating organism. The speed of resolution still limps far behind the speed of litigation.
What then is the remedy? And is the nation confronting this foundational crisis with the seriousness it demands?
Justice Delayed, Democracy Denied
The old axiom—justice delayed is justice denied—is not a rhetorical flourish; it is a civilizational truth. For every one of these 53 million cases, there are human beings, families, communities—entangled, exhausted, and often financially ruined. If one considers the numbers statistically, India today has approximately one case for every twenty-six citizens. An entire nation appears litigiously entangled, as though legal conflict were an inescapable part of civic life.
But the gravest danger is not the volume; it is the erosion of trust. When justice becomes a distant horizon reachable only through decades of waiting, democracy itself becomes a brittle edifice. A society that cannot deliver timely justice cannot claim to be just at all.
Piling Courts Will Not Automatically Deliver Justice
While more courts, more judges, and better infrastructure are undeniably necessary, experience shows that they alone cannot slay this many-headed monster. Quantitative expansion without qualitative transformation merely expands the labyrinth. Another century of the same approach will not deliver a different outcome.
For the next twenty-five years, India requires something deeper—a re-engineering of legal processes, a ruthless simplification of procedures, and a systemic commitment to process compression. The British envisioned the “sessions system” where trials were to run continuously until resolved. Today, this principle lies buried beneath the culture of perpetual adjournments. The conveyor-belt of “next dates” has become one of the biggest enemies of justice.
Equally troubling is the quality of decisions in the lower courts. Flawed judgments inevitably travel upwards through appeals, creating avalanches of avoidable litigation. Elevating judicial competence, strengthening legal reasoning, and tightening accountability are, therefore, not luxuries—they are necessities.
The First Principle: Preventing Litigation Itself
The central question is not how to resolve 53 million cases faster.
The deeper, more transformative question is:
How do we ensure that cases do not arise in the first place?
Litigation is not a natural phenomenon; it is a symptom—a symptom of unclear laws, cumbersome processes, bureaucratic indecision, and administrative opacity. When government departments themselves are unable to take firm, timely, lawful decisions, they become compulsive litigants. When land records are confused, when property ownership is opaque, when procedures contradict one another, disputes become inevitable.
For genuine transformation, the State machinery must become competent, accountable, and decisive. Decisions must be taken at the right level, within the right time frame, and in the right spirit.
The Quasi-Judicial Labyrinth
The quasi-judicial universe—especially in revenue administration—creates an endless escalator of appeals. A matter may begin before a Naib-Tahsildar and end up in the Supreme Court, traversing decades and sometimes generations. These structures require deep reconsideration: simplification of procedures, reduction of unnecessary levels, and statutory clarity that prevents interpretational conflicts.
Law reform is thus not a legal exercise alone; it is an administrative and moral imperative.
The Global Lesson: Resolve Before You Litigate
Many nations have shown that mediation, conciliation, community-based resolution, and structured negotiation platforms can resolve nearly 37% of disputes before they ever enter a courtroom. This is not limited to commercial arbitration; it includes social, familial, property, and civic conflicts. A society trained to resolve differences gracefully is a society where the judiciary is not overwhelmed—and where justice is not a privilege of the patient few.
In India, however, dispute resolution often begins with confrontation, distrust, and the expectation of litigation. The social environment must shift towards pre-litigation harmony.
A Vision for the Next 25 Years
The golden goal of democracy is not that justice be accessible; it is that justice be rarely needed. In the ideal polity, laws are clear, procedures are transparent, governance is responsive, records are accurate, and conflicts are pre-empted. Citizens should not have to step into a courtroom unless under truly exceptional circumstances.
And when they do, justice should be swift, final, and impeccable—immune to layers of appeal.
A Hopeful Plea
One hopes that in the next quarter-century, both the Union and State governments will treat this crisis not as a judicial inconvenience, but as a national priority. A democracy cannot thrive when half of its moral machinery is jammed. Justice is not a service; it is the sanctity of the Republic.
The question before us is stark:
Do we possess a justice system, or have we quietly accepted an architecture of injustice?
The answer lies not in lamentation but in reform—deep, urgent, fearless reform.
Mahesh Zagade, IASx 