Category Archives: Bodily Integrity

The Aadhaar/PAN Judgment: Decoding the “Partial Stay”

In an article published today on Scroll.in, Apar Gupta makes an important point about the Supreme Court’s Aadhaar/PAN judgment: even as it upheld the constitutional validity of S. 139AA of the Income Tax Act against challenges based on Articles 14 (equal protection) and 19(1)(g) (freedom of trade), the Court nevertheless noted that 139AA would yet have to pass a “more stringent test” under Article 21 (right to life and personal liberty) of the Constitution. He makes the further point that the judgment “also reinforces the spirit of [the Court’s] earlier orders limiting the Aadhaar scheme by giving a limited stay on Section 139AA(2).

What is crucial to note is that the Court’s “limited stay” is itself based on the view that S. 139AA – and more broadly, Aadhaar – potentially violates Article 21 of the Constitution. The Court notes, in paragraph 125:

“At the same time, as far as existing PAN holders are concerned, since the impugned provisions are yet to be considered on the touchstone of Article 21 of the Constitution, including on the debate around Right to Privacy and human dignity, etc. as limbs of Article 21, we are of the opinion that till the aforesaid aspect of Article 21 is decided by the Constitution Bench a partial stay of the aforesaid proviso is necessary. Those who have already enrolled themselves under Aadhaar scheme would comply with the requirement of sub-section (2) of Section 139AA of the Act. Those who still want to enrol are free to do so. However, those assessees who are not Aadhaar card holders and do not comply with the provision of Section 139(2), their PAN cards be not treated as invalid for the time being. It is only to facilitate other transactions which are mentioned in Rule 114B of the Rules. We are adopting this course of action for more than one reason. We are saying so because of very severe consequences that entail in not adhering to the requirement of sub-section (2) of Section 139AA of the Act. A person who is holder of PAN and if his PAN is invalidated, he is bound to suffer immensely in his day to day dealings, which situation should be avoided till the Constitution Bench authoritatively determines the argument of Article 21 of the Constitution.”

There has been a fair amount of debate about what this paragraph actually means for taxpayers who do not yet have an Aadhaar number; for the moment, the debate appears to have been settled by a CBDT circular stating that all persons paying their taxes after July 1 must link Aadhaar and PAN. In my view, however, the importance of paragraph 125 lies not so much in the limited relief that it grants taxpayers in this specific litigation, but what it means for the larger Aadhaar challenges presently pending before various benches of the Supreme Court. What has not yet been noticed – or discussed – is that paragraph 125 will have a significant ripple affect on numerous other cases, starting with the hearing scheduled for June 27, where the question of making Aadhaar mandatory for seventeen social welfare schemes is due to be heard. In this essay, I will attempt to explain how.

When does the Court grant a “Stay”? 

A “stay”, as the word suggests, refers to a situation where a Court temporarily restrains one (or both) parties to a legal proceeding from taking certain actions until the case is heard and decided in full (a “stay” also refers to a situation where a higher Court halts the operation of the order of a lower Court, but we are not concerned with that here). Before granting or refusing a stay (or an “injunction”, as the case may be), a Court is supposed to carefully consider the pros and cons of the case before it. The traditional test for a stay is three-pronged: the Court must be convinced that the party asking for a stay has a “prima facie” good case; that the refusal to grant a stay will cause “irreparable harm“; and that the “balance of convenience” between the parties weighs in favour of a stay.

However, when the Court is faced with a request to stay a statutory provision (as opposed to private conduct or executive action), the test is much more rigorous. This is because laws, which emanate from the parliamentary-democratic-deliberative process, have a deep, presumptive legitimacy; and furthermore, their wide reach means that a stay will have broad and far-reaching consequences. For instance, in Bhavesh Parish vs Union of India, the Supreme Court held:

“When considering an application for staying the operation of a piece of legislation, and that too pertaining to economic reform or change then the courts must bear in mind that unless the provision is manifestly unjust or glaringly unconstitutional, the courts must show judicial restrain in staying the applicability of the same. Merely because a statute comes up for examination and some arguable point is raised, which persuades the courts to consider the controversy, the legislative will should not normally be put under suspension pending such consideration. It is now well- settled that there is always a presumption in favour of the constitutional validity of any legislation, unless the same is set – aside after final hearing and, therefore, the tendency to grant stay of legislation relating to economic reform, at the interim stage, cannot be understood. The system of checks and balances has to be utilised in a balanced manner with the primary objective of accelerating economic growth rather than suspending its growth by doubting its constitutional efficacy at the threshold itself.”

Consequently, when considering a constitutional challenge to a law (which is what the Court was doing in Aadhaar/PAN), a “stay” can be granted only if the provision is “manifestly unjust or glaringly unconstitutional“. The Court cannot grant a stay simply because, on balance, it would be the right or just thing to do.

The “Stay” in the Aadhaar/PAN Case

It is important to note that in the Aadhaar/PAN case, the Court could have granted the partial stay that it did, only if it was convinced that the proviso to S. 139AA(2) (cancellation of PAN if not linked with Aadhaar for paying taxes) was “manifestly unjust” or “glaringly unconstitutional”. Indeed, Mr Arvind Datar, senior counsel for the Petitioners, made the specific argument that the proviso was unconstitutional because it amounted to a disproportionate interference with the Petitioners’ fundamental right to trade and commerce under Article 19(1)(g): to deprive a person of a PAN card was effectively to shut them out of the formal economy, leading to effective “civil death”.

As I have argued in my previous post, ultimately, the Court failed to return a specific finding on the Article 19(1)(g) issue. However, as paragraph 125 demonstrates, the Court did agree with Mr Datar that the consequences of the proviso were “very severe“, and specifically cited the various transactions for which a PAN Card is compulsory as the reason why it was granting a stay, while the overall Article 21 challenge to Aadhaar remained pending before the larger bench.

Since there are no observations on “glaring unconstitutionality” – in fact, the Court categorically refused to express an opinion on the pending Article 21 challenge – it would be fair to assume, therefore, that the Court considered the draconian step of cancelling PAN Cards to be “manifestly unjust”.

The Consequences

We may now note that in the other pending Aadhaar-related challenges, the “consequences” of not having an Aadhaar Number are at least as severe as the consequences of PAN cancellation, if not more so. One of the Executive notifications under S. 7 of the Aadhaar Act, for instance, makes midday meals at schools conditional upon the production of an Aadhaar Number. No PAN Card means civil death; but midday meals can be about life and death – or at the very least, about basic health, itself a right under Article 21. The same goes for a number of other Executive notifications, where Aadhaar is linked to social welfare schemes, all of which provide crucial life support to the most vulnerable and marginalised individuals in our society.

In the Aadhaar/PAN case, the Supreme Court had occasion to carefully consider a legislation that made Aadhaar compulsory for filing IT returns, at the cost of cancelation of PAN cards. Applying its judicial mind, the Court found that the pending Article 21 challenge was credible enough, and the consequences of PAN cancellation severe enough, for the rigorous standards for granting a stay on legislation (“manifest injustice”) to be met.

Admittedly, a stay has no precedential value, and does not bind any future bench. However, once a two-judge bench of the Supreme Court has applied its mind to the merits of the case, should a different, coordinate bench of the same Court re-open the issue, consider it afresh, and refuse to grant a stay, even when the consequences in that case are even more severe than canceled PANs?

I submit that judicial discipline precludes future coordinate benches from doing so. The Aadhaar/PAN case has established two very important provisions: first, that notwithstanding the pending Constitution Bench challenge, specific piecemeal challenges to Aadhaar can be heard and decided by two-judge benches on issues outside the remit of the Constitution Bench, and that those benches can grant appropriate relief; and secondly, visiting severe consequences upon people for not possessing an Aadhaar is “manifestly unjust” – unjust enough for the Court to grant a stay.

Consequently, when a different bench of the Court hears the petitions on June 27, regarding compulsory Aadhaar for social welfare schemes, it should grant a stay without any further need for argument (note that the challenge in that case is to Government notifications, which occupy a level of sanctity lower than legislation). And this should be the course of action adopted by the Court in all future proceedings where the Petitioners can show that the consequences of not having an Aadhaar, for X or Y government notification or law, are at least as severe as the consequences of getting your PAN canceled.

Conclusion

I understand that, technically, this is not a legal argument for stay. However, it needs to be noted that in its Aadhaar/PAN judgment, the Court repeatedly invokes judicial discipline in deciding not to consider a whole range of issues that might overlap with the issues before the pending Constitution Bench. It is respectfully submitted that judicial discipline demands that judicial discipline be applied consistently. It is as much an issue of discipline not to reopen a question on which a coordinate bench has applied its mind and come to a conclusion, as it is not to interfere with the (possible) workings of a (potential) Constitution Bench. For that reason, in all future challenges before the Court, until the Constitution Bench decides the overall challenge, two-judge benches should grant stays and ensure – in the words of the original Supreme Court order that began all of this – that nobody is made to “suffer” for not possessing an Aadhaar.

 

2 Comments

Filed under Article 21 and the Right to Life, Bodily Integrity, Judicial Process, Stays and Injunctions

The Aadhaar/PAN Judgment

In a judgment delivered today, the Supreme Court upheld the constitutional validity of S. 139AA of the Income Tax Act, which makes quoting one’s Aadhaar number mandatory while filing income tax returns. The Court also stayed S. 139AA(2), which provided for the cancellation of PAN cards for failure to comply. In view of the multiple Aadhaar cases pending before the Supreme Court, it is important to clarify what precisely the Court decided, what it didn’t decide, and what it left open (a summary of the arguments can be read here (Part I), here (Part II), and here (Part III)).

What the Court didn’t decide

Recall that on August 11, 2015, a three judge bench of the Supreme Court had referred the constitutional challenge to Aadhaar (then an executive scheme) to a larger bench, on the basis that the constitutional status of the right to privacy was uncertain, and needed to be authoritatively decided. That larger bench has not yet been constituted. Consequently, at the beginning of the Aadhaar/PAN arguments, the Court wanted to “tag” this case to the pending challenge before the (still-to-be-constituted) larger bench. The Petitioners then informed the Court that they would make their arguments without relying on the right to privacy. The Court agreed to this.

During the course of arguments, Mr Shyam Divan advanced arguments based on the right to bodily integrity, dignity, and informational self-determination, under Article 21 of the Constitution. In its judgment, however, the Court held that all these arguments were facets of the right to privacy, and could not be decided here. Consequently – and the Court was very clear about this – no argument under Article 21 would be decided by it, whether it was framed as an argument from dignity, or from informational self-determination. This means that the constitutional validity of Aadhaar on the ground of Article 21 has not been decided one way or another by the Court (the Court has not even expressed an opinion), and all arguments on that count remain open.

That said, it needs to be pointed out that the Court’s lumping of all Article 21 arguments into an omnibus “right to privacy” is far from satisfactory. For example, in paragraph 71 of its judgment, the Court cites an American Supreme Court judgment (invoked by the Respondents) to hold that the right to informational self-determination is an aspect of the right to privacy, and so need not be considered by it. The Court does not cite – or engage with – the material placed on record by the Petitioners which specifically demonstrated that the right to informational self-determination was different from the right to privacy, in terms of its origins (in German constitutionalism) and development. As I shall show subsequently, this is a problem that afflicts much of the Court’s opinion.

What the Court did Decide: Process

Two arguments were made before the Court on the nature of the law itself. The first was that the law could not have been passed in the teeth of Supreme Court orders specifying that Aadhaar could not be made mandatory, without taking away the basis of those orders (which S. 139AA didn’t do – see Part I for details). To this, the Court said that those earlier orders had been passed when Aadhaar was still only an executive scheme, and it was open to the legislature to pass a law making Aadhaar compulsory. The Court’s decision here would imply that in future challenges to other laws making Aadhaar mandatory, its prior orders would not be an impediment; however, insofar as Aadhaar is sought to be made mandatory for something through an executive order without a law, those earlier orders would continue to hold the field (paragraph 94).

It was also argued that the process of enrolling and obtaining an Aadhaar number, as set out under the Aadhaar Act, was a voluntary process. S. 139AA of the Income Tax Act, however, made quoting an Aadhaar number for filing IT returns mandatory, and thus indirectly forced taxpayers to enrol for an Aadhaar number, even though the Aadhaar Act explicitly stated that Aadhaar was an entitlement, and not an obligation. To this, the Court stated that the Income Tax Act and the Aadhaar Act operated in different fields, and that the Aadhaar Act was not the “mother Act.” (paragraph 92) I do not propose to deal with this reasoning in detail, since the argument has been set out at some length in Part I (link above), and readers can make up their own minds whether the Court’s answer was satisfactory.

What the Court did Decide: Article 14

It was argued by the Petitioners that S. 139AA contravened Article 14 in two ways: first, by drawing a distinction between individuals and non-individuals, and requiring the former to acquire an Aadhaar number. If – as the State claimed – its goal was to eliminate duplicate PANs and black money, then why were individuals only being singled out through the means of compulsory Aadhaar? The Court responded by stating that it was the State’s prerogative to deal with problems such as duplicate PANs and black money in an incremental or piecemeal fashion, and to make a start with targeting individuals.

It was also argued, however, that the introduction of Aadhaar would not actually solve the problem of duplicate PANs, because there was evidence to show the existence of multiple Aadhaar numbers themselves, as well as the well-documented ability to fake both biometric details and iris scans. Consequently, there was no “rational nexus” under Article 14.

It is at this stage that the judgment becomes highly problematic, because the Court appears to simply repeat the assertions of the State, without adverting to or engaging with the objections raised by the Petitioners. For example:

Respondents have argued that Aadhaar will ensure that there is no duplication of identity as bio-metric will not allow that and, therefore, it may check the growth of shell companies as well.” (paragraph 99)

“By making use of the technology, a method is sought to be devised, in the form of Aadhaar, whereby identity of a person is ascertained in a flawless manner without giving any leeway to any individual to resort to dubious practices of showing multiple identities or fictitious identities. That is why it is given the nomenclature ‘unique identity’. (paragraph 118)

“However, for various reasons including corruption, actual benefit does not reach those who are supposed to receive such benefits. One of the main reasons is failure to identify these persons for lack of means by which identity could be established of such genuine needy class. Resultantly, lots of ghosts and duplicate beneficiaries are able to take undue and impermissible benefits. A former Prime Minister of this country has gone to record to say that out of one rupee spent by the Government for welfare of the downtrodden, only 15 paisa thereof actually reaches those persons for whom it is meant. It cannot be doubted that with UID/Aadhaar much of the malaise in this field can be taken care of.” (para 118)

“To the same effect is the recommendation of the Committee headed by Chairman, CBDT on measures to tackle black money in India and abroad which also discusses the problem of money-laundering being done to evade taxes under the garb of shell companies by the persons who hold multiple bogus PAN numbers under different names or variations of their names. That can be possible if one uniform proof of identity, namely, UID is adopted. It may go a long way to check and minimise the said malaise.” (paragraph 118(ii))

“Thirdly, Aadhaar or UID, which has come to be known as most advanced and sophisticated infrastructure, may facilitate law enforcement agencies to take care of problem of terrorism to some extent and may also be helpful in checking the crime and also help investigating agencies in cracking the crimes. No doubt, going by aforesaid, and may be some other similarly valid considerations, it is the intention of the Government to give phillip (sic) to Aadhaar movement and encourage the people of this country to enroll themselves under the Aadhaar scheme.” (paragraph 119)

“As of today, that is the only method available i.e. by seeding of existing PAN with Aadhaar. It is perceived as the best method, and the only robust method of de-duplication of PAN database. It is claimed by the respondents that the instance of duplicate Aadhaar is almost non-existent. It is also claimed that seeding of PAN with Aadhaar may contribute to widening of the tax case as well, by checking the tax evasions and bringing in to tax hold those persons who are liable to pay tax but deliberately avoid doing so.” (para 119)

In each of these paragraphs, the Court effectively echoes the State’s claim, assumes it to be true, and does not engage with the detailed objections raised by the Petitioners (see Parts I and III). All the talking points are here: how biometric identification is the “best method”, how unique identity is actually “unique”, how terrorism will be tackled through Aadhaar, how “ghosts” will be removed, and so on (note that every one of these points were opposed in court). It is telling that, at various points, the Court even uses language such as “it is claimed” and “Respondents have claimed that”, but doesn’t even trouble to subject those claims to any kind of independent scrutiny.

India has an adverserial legal system. An adverserial system presumes the existence of opposing parties, who marshall their respective facts and evidence into legal arguments, and place it before the Court, which acts as a neutral umpire, adjudicating the rival claims. When there are competing claims, especially competing factual claims, the Court decides by applying legal techniques such as burdens and standards of proof, or taking the assistance of amici curiae who are domain experts. What the Court is not supposed to do is to act like a rubber stamp, simply accepting the State’s assertions as true without engaging with the counter-arguments, or subjecting them to independent scrutiny. However, “rubber stamp” is the only way to describe the Court’s recitation of one side’s arguments, and sidelining (to the point of ignoring) the other.

What the Court did not decide: the strange case of the vanishing Article 19(1)(g)

The Court records Mr Datar’s argument that the invalidation of PAN cards affects an individual’s right to do business, and violates Article 19(1)(g) of the Constitution. The Court also records – and agrees – with his argument that for an infringement of Article 19(1)(g) to be justified under Article 19(6), the test of proportionality is to be applied. However, after recording this, and after waxing eloquent about the wonders of biometric identification, the Court returns no finding on the issue of proportionality. The discussion on Article 19(1)(g) begins at paragraph 106, and ends at paragraph 124, where the Court notes:

“Therefore, it cannot be denied that there has to be some provision stating the consequences for not complying with the requirements of Section 139AA of the Act, more particularly when these requirements are found as not violative of Articles 14 and 19 (of course, eschewing the discussion on Article 21 herein for the reasons already given). If Aadhar number is not given, the aforesaid exercise may not be possible.”

However, there is absolutely no analysis on whether making Aadhaar compulsory, on pain of cancellation of PAN cards, is proportionate in relation to the stated goal of deduplicaton. This is a crucial omission, because the proportionality test is a detailed and complex four-part test, which requires the State to show that its proposed act infringes upon a right only to the minimal extent necessary to achieve the goal, as well as an overall balancing exercise. It is here that a number of arguments would have become extremely salient, including statistics on the percentage of duplicate PANs (0.4%) which the Court dismisses at an earlier part of the judgment, the existence of multiple Aadhaars (which the Court never engages with), and so on – all of this would have been extremely important in determining whether S. 139AA was a proportionate interference with the right under Article 19(1)(g). (Notably, the only response of the Attorney-General of India to the 19(1)(g) argument was “who cares about Article 19(1)(g) these days?)

The omission is all the more glaring because the proportionality test was introduced by the author of this judgment – Justice Sikri himself – in his judgment in the NEET case. It is truly extraordinary that a judge who introduces a doctrine in one judgment, writing for a Constitution Bench, simply refuses to apply it a few months later when sitting as part of a two-judge bench!

What is even more problematic is the absence of a finding on proportionality. This is reminiscent of the Supreme Court’s judgment in Koushal vs Naz, where the Court’s chosen method of dealing with inconvenient arguments is to set out the submissions, set out the position of law, and then just move on to something else: if you close your eyes and chant “na na na”, long enough, maybe it will go away. A correct application of the four-part proportionality test would have required rigorous scrutiny of the State’s claims on behalf of Aadhaar – but if there is one thing that defines this judgment, it is a complete and utter unwillingness to hold the State to account.

Relief

There is a significant amount of confusion with respect to the relief that the Court does grant – a “partial stay” of S. 139AA(2) (cancellation of PAN) until the main Aadhaar case is decided. The Court states:

“Those who still want to enrol are free to do so. However, those assessees who are not Aadhaar card holders and do not comply with the provision of Section 139(2), their PAN cards be not treated as invalid for the time being. It is only to facilitate other transactions which are mentioned in Rule 114B of the Rules.”

One reading of this passage is that it remains mandatory to provide an Aadhaar number while filing IT returns (after July 1), but if one doesn’t already have an Aadhaar Card, then one’s PAN will not be canceled for failure to comply; however, one’s tax returns shall be invalid, and therefore subject to other penal provisions for not paying tax. On another interpretation, however, S. 139AA(2) provides the punishment for failure to comply with S. 139AA (refusal to provide Aadhaar number for IT returns). The staying of S. 139AA(2) (for those who have no Aadhaar number yet) necessarily implies that there is no penal consequence to follow from violating S. 139AA itself. Over the course of the day, I have heard both views being defended by competent lawyers, implying that at the very least, there is some amount of confusion here.

Conclusion

In its judgment today, the Supreme Court leaves the most crucial issues (Article 21) undecided, and footballs them to the unicorn Constitution Bench that is still to sit after a year and nine months after referral. The Court’s analysis of Article 14 is sketchy, defined by its uncritical reliance upon the State’s claims about Aadhaar (claims that were disputed in Court, and are disputed on a daily basis in the public sphere), and its analysis of Article 19(1)(g) is non-existent.

In a matter where the stakes are this high, this is just not good enough.

(Disclosure: The author assisted the Petitioners in the present case)

 

4 Comments

Filed under Article 14, Article 21 and the Right to Life, Bodily Integrity, Equality, Freedom of Trade

The Constitutional Challenge to Aadhaar/PAN – III: The Petitioners’ Rejoinder and the Issues before the Court

In the last two posts, we examined the case of the Petitioners and that of the Union of India before the Supreme Court in the constitutional challenge to S. 139AA of the IT Act. In this post, we shall conclude by discussing the Petitioners’ rejoinder, and outlining the issues that the Court must adjudicate.

Mr Shyam Divan’s Rejoinder

On Article 14 and the Collision Between the Aadhaar Act and S. 139AA

Mr Divan argued that the entire case rested upon the Attorney-General’s argument that S. 7 of the Aadhaar Act was virtually mandatory – an argument, he stated, he had heard for the first time during these proceedings. Mr Divan contended that the only way in which the Attorney-General had managed to reconcile the Aadhaar Act and S. 139AA was by arguing that S. 7 was mandatory. If that argument failed, then the entire edifice would crumble, and S. 139AA would have to be struck down.

Mr Divan argued that the entire scheme of the Aadhaar Act made it clear that it was voluntary. This was evident from the Statement of Objects and Reasons, from Section 3, which stipulated that “every resident shall be entitled” to an Aadhaar number. It was also evident from S. 3(2), which required the enrolling agency to inform the individual about the manner in which the information would be used and S. 8(2)(a), which required requesting entities to “obtain consent” . And S.7 only permitted the Government to make Aadhaar mandatory as a condition for receiving subsidies which were financed out of the Consolidated Fund of India. Mr Divan argued that the Attorney-General’s reliance on S. 57 was incorrect, because S. 57 clearly stated that it was subject to the rest of the Aadhaar Act. No coercive measures were contemplated by the Act. Furthermore, the voluntariness of Aadhaar was also evident from the enrolling form, which specified consent; from the UIDAI’s own website, which used the phrases “entitled to voluntarily obtain an Aadhaar number“, and “any person may choose to use Aadhaar“; and from the UIDAI’s advertisements.

Aadhaar, therefore, was a voluntary scheme. What flowed from this, according to Mr Divan, was that a legislative scheme which divided people into two categories – those who choose to have an Aadhaar, and those who don’t – and then burdened the latter category, was discriminatory on the face of it. And this was precisely what S. 139AA did. By dividing taxpayers into those who had freely chosen to get an Aadhaar number, and those who hadn’t, and by forcibly requiring the latter to get an Aadhaar, S. 139AA violated Article 14 because its very objective was discriminatory. Mr Divan argued that the petition should succeed on this count alone.

Compelled Speech 

Mr Divan clarified that his point about compelled speech was simply that, by parting with her biometric details and iris scan – the most personal of all information about oneself – the individual was being compelled to “speak” – and that too, not to the State, but to private enrolling agencies. Mr Divan conceded that there might be different considerations if the State was doing the collecting itself; but how, he asked, could the State compel the individual to “speak” to another individual with whom they did not wish to have any interaction? Reading out the list of private enrollers, Mr Divan argued that the entire architecture of Aadhaar – which required me to go and provide my most sensitive information not to the State, but to “Pankaj Shah of Bits and Bytes Co.” violated Article 19(1)(a).

Bodily Integrity, Compelling State Interest, Narrow Tailoring 

The Union of India’s entire argument – Mr Divan stated – essentially boiled down to “what’s the big deal about this? Other laws require you to part with personal information too.” To this, he responded that there could be laws which infringed bodily integrity in order to protect and preserve life: this is why there were laws mandating helmets and seatbelts. Likewise, there could be laws stipulating narrowly-tailored exceptions to the right, in service of a compelling State interest, such as passports (where an urgent need might arise to identify a person in case of an accident abroad). That, however, was a far cry from a centralised database, which – according to the Union’s own affidavit – involved seeding of information. This was also what distinguished Aadhaar from a provision such as S. 32A of the Registration Act. The Registration Act required you to give your fingerprints, but that was for your benefit and was only on the document; it did not go into a centralised database, with all the accompanying possibilities of misuse and data theft. Similarly, the Census Act accorded a very high degree of protection to census information: inspection of census registered, for instance, was prohibited. What this showed was that when the coercive power of the State is used to invade bodily integrity, there must be a consequently high degree of protection – something which Aadhaar, with the possibility of seeding, did not have.

Furthermore, Mr Divan argued, the State had failed to make out a compelling interest. The argument about “giving people an identity” was flawed, because 99.97% of Aadhaar applicants already had pre-existing identity documents. The logic of duplication was also flawed, because official information showed the presence of 1,69,000 duplicate Aadhaar numbers. Consequently, the large-sale infringement of bodily integrity in this case could not be sustained by the goal the State was trying to achieve.

Competence and Deference 

Mr Divan reiterated his argument that under the constitutional scheme, there was an implied limitation upon the State’s power to legislate when it came to the human body: only narrowly-tailored infringements, in service of a compelling interest, were permitted. Wholesale taking of biometric details and iris scans, and storing them in a centralised database for the purposes of seeding was neither narrowly-tailored, nor in service of a compelling interest. Mr Divan also pointed  out that this case had raised serious questions pertaining to the violation of Articles 14, 19, and 21 of the Constitution. Consequently, the Court ought not to follow its usual policy in dealing with “fiscal statutes”, and defer to legislative wisdom; although 139AA was a tax amendment, its nature was anything but purely fiscal.

Mr Divan concluded by arguing that the Union’s three-pronged case – that there was no right to privacy, that fingerprinting and iris scans were no more intrusive than a photograph, and that Aadhaar was mandatory – if accepted, would overturn the entire relationship between the individual and the State, concentrating great power in the hands of the latter at the expense of the former. That would result in a tremendous compromise of civil liberties. He would urge the Court to strike down S. 139AA.

Mr Datar’s Rejoinder

Legislative Overruling of Judicial Orders

Mr Datar argued that before the Supreme Court, the Union of India had always reiterated that Aadhaar was voluntary. On 11th August 2015, and then again on 15th October 2015, the Supreme Court itself had stated that Aadhaar could not be made mandatory. Now, it was open to Parliament to legislate in a way that took away the basis of these orders. Parliament, for instance, could simply stipulate, in a law, that henceforth, every individual was obligated to obtain an Aadhaar Number. However, Parliament had not done that. Parliament had simply enacted S. 139AA, which made it mandatory to quote an Aadhaar number while filing Income Tax returns. That did not amount to taking away the basis of the Supreme Court orders. Mr Datar took the example of a case in Bangalore, where notwithstanding building regulations prohibiting a height of more than 80m, a person had built up to 100m. The case was taken to Court, and he lost. However, before his building could be demolished, the Regulation was changed to make the legal height 110m, and applicable retrospectively, from the time that construction had commenced. That, argued Mr Datar, was an instance of how the basis of a judgment could be altered, and that was the only way known to law in which the Parliament or Executive could overcome a contrary court order. Similarly, in the Supreme Court’s recent judgment banning liquor within a specified distance from highways, some states had responded by denotifying their highways, and turning them into ordinary roads. That was permissible, because it removed the basis of the Court’s judgment; however, those states could not simply have said, “notwithstanding the Supreme Court judgment, alcohol will continue to be sold in these shops.” S. 139AA effectively amounted to state action of the latter kind.

Justice Sikri pointed out that what was unique about this case was that the Court’s earlier orders had been passed when Aadhaar was merely an executive scheme, and no law existed. So could it be said that the orders even applied to a law in the first place? Mr Datar responded by saying that in view of Ram Jawaya Kapoor’s Case, the executive and legislative powers of the State were co-extensive. Consequently, whether the original orders applied to an executive scheme, or to a law, the point remained that they could only be overcome through the specific mechanism outlined above. Justice Sikri and Mr Datar agreed that the Court was dealing with this kind of a situation for the first time in its history, and would have to lay down the law on the basis of first principles. Justice Sikri then asked what the “basis” of the earlier Court orders was, that the Parliament could have legislated to take away. Mr Datar responded that the basis was that since the validity of Aadhaar was yet to be tested on the constitutional anvil, in the meantime it could not be made mandatory for anything but a specified number of services. Consequently, the only way of removing this basis was to pass an Act that stated “Parliament may make Aadhaar mandatory…” Mr Arghya Sengupta interjected to state that S. 7 of the Aadhaar Act did this already. Mr. Datar replied that S. 7 did nothing of the sort.

Legislative Dichotomy

Mr Datar then pointed out that S. 139AA of the Aadhaar Act did not contain a non-obstante clause (“notwithstanding anything contained in any other law for the time being in force…). In the absence of a non-obstante clause, there was a clear collision – or a dichotomy – between the Aadhaar Act and S. 139AA, a dichotomy that could be resolved only by striking down S. 139AA. Once Parliament had passed a law which made Aadhaar a right – it could not then pass a contrary law that made Aadhaar its jural opposite –  a duty without a non-obstante clause. Mr Datar read out numerous parliamentary statements – including one by Mr Jaitley – to demonstrate that at its core, Aadhaar was meant to be voluntary, and also pointed to the utter lack of debate in Parliament before passing S. 139AA.

Article 14

Mr Datar argued once again that the State had entirely failed to make out a rational nexus between making Aadhaar compulsory for individual taxpayers, and its stated goal(s) of preventing duplication, preventing black money, and preventing terrorism. He pointed out that only 0.4% of PAN Cards had been found to be duplicate, and that these figures from 2006. In response to Mr Sengupta’s interjection that this was only 0.4% of a very small sample, Mr Datar responded that that was exactly the point of statistical sampling. He observed there was no data after 2006, and asked on what basis the State had decided to take such a huge step – of mandatory Aadhaar – without analysing data, or sending the matter for consideration by a Parliamentary committee. The reason for the discrepancy between the number of PAN Cards and the number of taxpayers was simply that, after 1998, PAN began to be used for a wide number of transactions that had nothing to do with tax. Consequently, the Union had failed to discharge its burden under Article 14 that there existed a rational nexus between making individuals quote their Aadhaar numbers while filing tax returns, and checking duplication, tax evasion, or black money.

Mr Datar also addressed the Attorney-General’s arguments under FATCA, arguing that FATCA had nothing to do with Aadhaar numbers at all. Mr Arghya Sengupta interjected, saying that FATCA required handing over PAN numbers to US authorities, and that it would be embarrassing if duplicate PANs were handed over. Mr Datar pointed out that this had nothing to do with rational nexus under Article 14.

Article 19(1)(g) 

Mr Datar argued that the consequences of not having a PAN Card effectively locked an individual out of a number of economic transactions that were a lifeline (especially) for small traders and entrepreneurs. Apart from crores of individual taxpayers, it would be this class that would be affected the most: their entire economic life would grind to a halt. Consequently, for those who did not wish to get an Aadhaar number, S. 139AA was a serious infringement of their right to carry on trade and business under Article 19(1)9(g).

Now, if a law violated Article 19(1)(g), it could only be justified under Article 19(6): i.e., if it was a reasonable restriction in the interests of the general public. The correct test for assessing reasonableness had been laid down by Justice Sikri himself, in Modern Dental College vs State of MP (discussed on this blog here), and it was the test of “proportionality”:

“… a limitation of a constitutional right will be constitutionally permissible if: (i) it is designated for a proper purpose; (ii) the measures undertaken to effectuate such a limitation are rationally connected to the fulfillment of that purpose; (iii) the measures undertaken are necessary in that there are no alternative measures that may similarly achieve that same purpose with a lesser degree of limitation; and finally (iv) there needs to be a proper relation (‘proportionality stricto sensu’ or ‘balancing’) between the importance of achieving the proper purpose and the social importance of preventing the limitation on the constitutional right.” (paragraph 53)

Mr Datar pointed out that for 0.4% of duplicate PANs, 99.96% of taxpayers were being forced into Aadhaar. How, he asked, was this proportionate? In the balancing of interests between duplicate PANs and the freedom to do business, proportionality – in this case – clearly weighed in on the side of the former.

Mr Datar concluded by stating that this was a very serious case, with far-reaching consequences for civil liberties. Responding to the Attorney-General’s contention that all that had happened was that an extra “A” had been added to S. 139A, making it “Section 139AA”, he urged the Court to stop the encroachment on individual rights at its first step. He ended by quoting Justice Douglas of the US Supreme Court:

“As nightfall does not come at once, neither does oppression. In both instances, there is a twilight when everything remains seemingly unchanged. And it is in such twilight that we all must be most aware of change in the air – however slight – lest we become unwitting victims of the darkness.”

Issues before the Court

The Supreme Court has to resolve the following issues:

(a) Did S. 139AA “take away the basis” of the Supreme Court’s earlier orders on Aadhaar being voluntary, or is it an impermissible legislative overruling of a binding Court order?

(b) Does S. 139AA violate bodily integrity under Article 21? If it does, then does it serve a compelling State interest? And is it narrowly-tailored? Is it analogous to other laws such as the Registration Act, the Census Act, or the Passports Act, or is it much broader and far-reaching then those statutes? When deciding this issue, the Court will also have to decide how much to defer to the Union’s claims on duplication and black money, in view of the fact that the Petitioners strongly contested the validity of these claims. One interesting aspect here is how the Court will choose to allocate burdens of proof: will it, if it finds an infringement of bodily integrity, hold that the State must then justify it on the touchstone of compelling interest and narrow tailoring?

(c) Does S. 139AA violate Article 19(1)(g)? If so, is it proportionate, in view of statistics on the number of duplicate PANs and the existence of duplicate Aadhaars?

(d) In view of the fact that the Aadhaar Act makes Aadhaar voluntary, does S. 139AA fail the discriminatory purpose prong of Article 14 by classifying taxpayers into those who have voluntarily taken an Aadhaar number, and those who haven’t?

(e) Has the State shown a “rational nexus” under Article 14, with its goals of preventing black money and duplication? Here again, the issue of deference will become decisive: will the Court hold 139AA to be an economic statute, and take the Union’s claims at face value? Or will it, in view of the contentions involving fundamental rights, subject the Union to a stricter scrutiny in justifying its contention about Aadhaar being the panacea for preventing tax evasion?

(f) Does 139AA amount to compelled speech under Article 19(1)(a)?

(g) Does 139AA violate the principle of informational self-determination under Article 21?

(e) Is there an implied limitation upon legislative competence as far as laws concerning the human body are concerned? If yes, then does 139AA violate this implied limitation?

Options before the Court

The Court may do one of the following six things:

(a) Strike down S. 139AA as unconstitutional.

(b) Accept Mr Divan’s argument, and hold that S. 139AA is voluntary by reading “shall” as “may”.

(c) Accept Mr Datar’s argument and “harmoniously construe” S. 139AA and the Aadhaar Act by holding that those who have already procured and Aadhaar number might be required to quote it, but those who haven’t cannot be compelled to enroll.

(d) Find that issues or privacy are essential to decide the case, refer the matter to the pending Constitution Bench, and stay its operation in the meantime.

(e) Refer without staying

(f) Uphold S. 139AA entirely, but leave it open to the Petitioners to challenge it on the grounds of privacy, once the Constitution Bench finally decides the main Aadhaar challenge.

 

5 Comments

Filed under aadhaar, Article 14, Article 21 and the Right to Life, Bodily Integrity, Bodily Privacy/Integrity, Equality, Privacy

The Constitutional Challenge to S. 139AA of the IT Act (Aadhaar/PAN) – II: The Union’s Arguments

In the previous post, I detailed the petitioners’ arguments in the constitutional challenge to S. 139AA of the Income Tax Act, which effectively makes enrolling for an Aadhaar number compulsory for taxpayers. After Petitioners completed their arguments, the Union of India – through the Attorney-General, Mr Arghya Sengupta, and Mr Zoheb Hossain – responded in defence of S. 139AA. Mr Shyam Divan and Mr Arvind Datar then replied for the Petitioners. In this post, I shall provide a brief account of the arguments, isolate the issues that the two-judge bench of the Supreme Court must address, and outline the possible outcomes.

The Attorney-General’s Arguments: A Limited Right to Bodily Integrity

The Attorney-General argued that the Petitioners’ Article 21 challenge to S. 139AA – focusing on bodily integrity – was nothing but a camouflaged privacy challenge, which the Court could not examine at this stage (see previous post on the dropping of privacy arguments from the present proceedings). However, assuming that there was an independent right to bodily integrity under Article 21, the thrust of the Attorney-General’s argument was that this right could be limited by the State – and in fact, was limited by the State in a number of other domains, in ways equally, or more, intrusive than Aadhaar. For instance, Section 32 of the Registration Act, 1908, required all ten fingerprints as a pre-requisite for registering property. People routinely subjected themselves to biometric collection while traveling abroad. More broadly, the Attorney-General argued that Aadhaar only did something that was already normalised and routinised in society: in an era of ubiquitous photography, what was so unacceptably intrusive about an iris scan? Given the ubiquity of online transactions through smartphones, what was so intrusive about having to part with one’s data for the purpose paying taxes? To accede to the Petitioners’ arguments would be to set a legal standard that could only be fulfilled by hermits living alone in the mountains, and not citizens part of the modern, digital economy.

Although the Attorney-General did not specifically use the term, what he appeared to be doing was borrowing the American doctrine of “reasonable expectation of privacy“: that is, the scope of one’s right to privacy – or, in the language in which this case was argued – “bodily integrity” – is determined by what is socially sanctioned and understood as reasonable at any given time. Briefly put, the Attorney-General’s case was that Aadhaar calls upon citizens to give up only that which they voluntarily and regularly give up as part of their daily lives; consequently, there was no constitutional violation to start with.

The Attorney-General then argued that in any event, citizens had no absolute rights over their bodies. In this case, there was a larger public interest that justified the level of infringement. For instance, the Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act regulated the conditions under which a woman could abort her foetus. Random breath checks for drunken driving were required in the interests of road safety. At this point, Justice Sikri interjected, and wondered whether those examples were analogous, because in those cases, the restrictions were clearly reasonable. To this, the Attorney-General replied that in the present case as well, there was a larger public interest: the effective and efficient collection of taxes, which was an integral part of life in an ordered society.

To substantiate this argument, the Attorney-General took the Court through the history of PAN Cards, and the perceived need to replace them with Aadhaar. He argued that on a random verification of 0.2% of all PAN Cards, a number of duplicate PANs were thrown up. Besides, over the previous twenty years, the existence of shell companies, the presence of directors in multiple companies, and multiple PAN holders, had all come to light. India was a highly tax non-compliant society. Furthermore, in addition to tax dodging, there were also problems of black money, which was used to finance terrorism. For all these reasons, it was important to develop a system in which identification could not be faked. The Attorney-General submitted that the only way to accomplish this was to digitise fingerprints and iris scans, and keep them for posterity. At present, fingerprints and iris scans could not be duplicated, and consequently, the shift to Aadhaar was necessary. Furthermore, this data would be encrypted and stored in a centralised server, and shared only with the police in case it was needed for resolving a crime.

Aadhaar itself, the Attorney-General submitted, was originally conceputalised to prevent leakages in the public distribution system, in payment of wages under the NREGA, in the payment of pensions, and so on. He argued that with Aadhaar, more than Rs 50 crores had been saved by plugging leakages. Consequently, even if there was some infringement of individual rights, it was balanced by the larger public goal, as mandated – according to the Attorney-General – by Rousseau’s conceptualisation of the social contract. Individuals were in a contractual relationship with the State from their birth, reliant upon it for a host of benefits; how then could they refuse to pay their taxes in the manner mandated by the State?

Indeed – according to the Attorney-General – the Supreme Court had itself sanctioned the use of Aadhaar in PDS schemes in 2011, and in SIM card verification just a couple of months before. Furthermore, an accurate identification system such as Aadhaar was needed to ensure that India was in compliance with its obligations under international agreements such as the FATCA. For all these reasons, the Attorney-General submitted that Aadhaar was entirely within the parametres of Article 21 of the Constitution.

He concluded his arguments by submitting that within the contours of the social contract, nobody had a right to make themselves invisible: “you may want to be forgotten. But the State does not want to forget you.

Returning to this argument at a later point in his submissions, the Attorney-General also argued that a number of Supreme Court cases – such as Kathi Kalu Oghad – had held that compelling persons accused of a crime to provide their fingerprints had been held not to violate the constitutional right against self-incrimination. So why couldn’t the State put in preventive measures to check tax dodging in advance? Justice Sikri interjected to say that the Kathi Kalu line of cases might not be apposite, because they involved accused in criminal cases; surely it was not right to treat the entire country as presumptively accused of tax dodging. The Attorney-General replied that he was only arguing that the right to bodily integrity was not absolute – it could be taken away in certain cases. “Which cases, is the question“, Justice Sikri responded. “Even your life can be taken away under Article 21“, the Attorney-General continued. “But only with due process,” Justice Sikri replied. “We must balance individual dignity with State interests.” The Attorney-General responded: “at the end of the day, if you can give your fingerprints for registering property, why can’t you give your fingerprints for this?

Still later in his submissions, the Attorney-General cited precedents from the American Supreme Court about urine testing for school athletes, DNA testing of a rape accused, and – perhaps paradoxically – Roe vs Wade – to reiterate that the right to bodily integrity was not absolute.

Article 19(1)(g)

The Attorney-General’s rebuttal to Mr Datar’s argument on Article 19(1)(g) was brief. He stated that there was no violation of Article 19(1)(g), and expressed surprise that in this day and age, someone was making a constitutional argument based on Article 19(1)(g).

S. 139AA and the Aadhaar Act

The Attorney-General submitted that there was no conflict between Section 139AA and the Aadhaar Act. Responding to Mr Shyam Divan’s submission that the coercive character of 139AA could not stand alongside the voluntary nature of Aadhaar, the Attorney-General argued that Section 7 of the Aadhaar Act was at least partially mandatory: the State could tell citizens “either you should have an Aadhaar Act, or you jolly well apply for it.” Furthermore, under S. 57 of the Aadhaar Act, Aadhaar could be used for purposes other than those stipulated in the Act itself. And in any event, he argued, Parliament’s power to prescribe uses for Aadhaar was plenary, and subject only to the Constitution. The Attorney-General added that the Aadhaar Act came built in with safeguards: Section 29, for instance, prohibited the sharing of information. True, there had been some leaks of late; but those leaks, he argued, had not come from the UIDAI, or the central government, but the Jharkhand state government; and in any event, biometric details had not been compromised – only bank account information had.

Parliamentary Legislation and Court Orders

The Attorney-General’s final argument was that whatever the status of the pre-2016 Supreme Court orders stipulating that Aadhaar could only remain voluntary, all these were overridden by subsequent legislation. There was no such thing as “legislative estoppel“. No Court could injunct Parliament from passing laws as it deemed fit. By passing the Aadhaar Act – and then s. 139AA – the Parliament had simply exercised its plenary powers, and passed validating legislation taking away the basis of the prior court orders.

The Attorney-General concluded his arguments by citing a World Bank Report praising the Aadhaar system. Everyone needed an identity, he argued. Many people in India had no identity. Aadhaar was a method to bring them into the mainstream, prevent exclusion, and guarantee them their dignity.

The Arguments of Mr. Arghya Sengupta: Article 14 and Proportionality

Continuing the case for the Union, Mr Arghya Sengupta argued that Mr Datar’s claim that 139AA violated Article 14 of the Constitution was incorrect, because Article 14 did not require the Court to undertake a proportionality analysis. He cited K.T. Plantations for the proposition that a proportionality test effectively amounted to judges substituting their wisdom for that of Parliament. Taking the Court through comparative law, Mr Sengupta submitted that traditional judicial review claims in the United Kingdom had never included a proportionality test. While the European Court of Human Rights did incorporate a proportionality analysis into its rights-analysis, this only caused greater confusion than resolution. Relying upon Lord Pannick and Lord Hoffman, Mr Sengupta submitted that “the reasons for not treating people equally often involve considerations of social policy.” Justice Sikri interjected to observe that equality claims in the United Kingdom – which didn’t have a Constitution – might be treated differently from how they were in India. Mr Sengupta responded that the broader point was that proportionality only entered the picture when some balancing of rights was involved. Article 14 only required the Courts to ask whether there existed a valid reason for treating people differently from one another. There was no question of balancing. In fact, Article 14 was not about “rights” at all; fundamentally, it was about “wrongs”. Mr Sengupta concluded this argument by citing Professor Rebecca Dixon for the proposition that even the proportionality test had begun to collapse into the traditional test, and argued for the retention of the traditional Indian test of intelligible differentia and rational nexus.

On the merits of Article 14 itself, Mr Sengupta argued that Mr Datar was incorrect in arguing that the disproportionate penalty for not complying with Article 139AA rendered it violative of Article 14. Relying upon the McDowell Casehe repeated his submission that proportionality could not be invoked to strike down a statute under Article 14. Nor could a statute be struck down on grounds of arbitrariness. Justice Sikri interjected that, by virtue of Mardia Chemicals, it might be possible to invalidate a statute on grounds of arbitrariness. In response, Mr Sengupta cited Rajbala vs State of Haryana, which had rejected the arbitrariness doctrine (for a previous discussion of this debate on this blog, see here; for an analysis of Rajbala, see here).

Coming to the traditional classification test under Article 14, Mr Sengupta opposed Mr Datar’s argument that by making Aadhaar compulsory only for individual assessees, S. 139AA violated the rational nexus test. He argued that, by definition, only individuals could have Aadhaar numbers (as opposed to companies, or HUFs). Consequently, Parliament had chosen to first focus on the problem of black money and tax evasion committed by individuals, and had brought in Aadhaar to check that. No enactment, Mr Sengupta argued, could completely solve a social problem. Parliament had decided to make a start with individuals, and at a future date, would devise ways for dealing with the other categories of assessees as well.

Justice Sikri said that he understood that there was no discrimination if companies were incapable of even having Aadhaar numbers. However, the question was why discriminate between two people, both of whom were willing to pay tax, if one of them was willing to enrol for an Aadhaar number, and the other was not. Mr Sengupta replied that the purpose of 139AA was not to discriminate, but to prevent duplication of PAN cards. So the discriminatory object test under Article 14 – as Mr Shyam Divan had argued – was inapplicable. In fact, much like in the US, when TIN was replaced by SSN, in future, the State might choose to replace PAN with Aadhaar entirely.

Conscientious Objection

Mr Sengupta submitted that Mr Divan calling his clients “conscientious objectors” who were being discriminated against was entirely misplaced. Citing texts on civil disobedience and conscientious objection, he argued that what Mr Divan was essentially arguing for was a license to break the law. You may not want to stand up for the national anthem, he pointed out, but that did not mean you could sit down. Justice Sikri observed that that might not be an entirely accurate framing; the petitioners had, after all, approached the Court to have the law struck down. Mr Sengupta replied that there could be conscientious objection to all kinds of laws, but that in itself did not make them discriminatory.

Informational Self-Determination

Mr Sengupta’s final argument was on informational self-determination. He submitted that there was no absolute right to informational self-determination. The State could – and did – collect a wide range of information from individuals: births, deaths, marriages. The information that the State required from its citizens was extensive, and nobody challenged it. In any event, Mr Sengupta argued, whatever right to informational self-determination – in the apparent guise of privacy – did exist, it would have to be conditioned and defined by cultural factors. India was very different from Germany, from where Mr Divan had drawn his doctrine. There would have to be devised an Indian doctrine of informational self-determination, drawn from Indian conditions. Citing Mark Tushnet on the dangers of comparative law, Mr Sengupta argued against “importing” the conception of privacy into India.

At this point, Mr Divan interjected and said that his argument was not a privacy argument, but an argument about his right to his body. Justice Sikri observed that there might be overlaps between the two concepts. Mr Divan responded that there might indeed be overlaps, but that his right to bodily integrity was not subsumed within his right to privacy. Mr Sengupta argued that it was not open to this Court to draw a distinction between privacy and informational self-determination; given that the very question of privacy was pending before the Constitution Bench, it was for the Constitution Bench to decide what the scope of privacy was, and whether or not it included informational self-determination. Returning to his argument about importing foreign law into India, Mr Sengupta cited Justice Antonin Scalia of the American Supreme Court who, in a death penalty case, had resisted the use of comparative precedent, arguing that in judging whether the death penalty in a particular case was “cruel and unusual punishment”, only “American standards of decency” ought to be looked at.

In any event, Mr Sengupta continued, even the German Constitutional Court required a balancing between individual and community interests. He repeated his submission that the right to informational self-determination was fundamentally about privacy, since the right to control information about oneself was a facet of privacy. If the Court was going to go into that, then there was a compelling State interest in the present case: that of preventing duplicate PANs, and ensuring efficient collection of taxes. Justice Sikri stated that the Petitioners would have to show why they had a right to pay taxes in the manner that they desired. Mr Sengupta continued by saying that biometric collection was the most sophisticated system presently known. PAN was the technology of 1975, he concluded; but Aadhaar was the technology of 2016.

The Arguments of Mr Zoheb Hossain

Mr Zoheb Hossain observed that India is a progressive tax regime. Progressive taxation was itself a facet of Article 14 of the Constitution. 139AA served this progressive goal by eliminating the inequality between taxpayers and tax evaders, by making duplication of PANs impossible. There was no discrimination against individuals; in fact, there were other provisions of the Income Tax Act – such as dividend distribution tax – applicable only to companies.

Mr Hossain then argued that Mr Divan was incorrect to argue that compelled taking of biometric details and iris scans amounted to compelled speech. Citing United States vs O’Brien, he argued that not every act or conduct amounted to “speech”.

Mr Hossain concluded by arguing that the standard for injuncting a parliamentary legislation was extremely high. There could be no injunction unless the statute was manifestly unconstitutional. Consequently, if the Court was inclined to refer the case to the larger bench, it ought not to grant a stay on the operation of S. 139AA.

(Disclaimer: The writer assisted the Petitioners in the constitutional challenge before the Court.)

 

3 Comments

Filed under aadhaar, arbitrariness, Article 14, Article 21 and the Right to Life, Bodily Integrity, Bodily Privacy/Integrity, Equality, Free Speech, Privacy

The Constitutional Challenge to S. 139AA of the IT Act (Aadhaar/PAN): Petitioners’ Arguments

Last month, through an amendment to the Income Tax Act, Parliament made it compulsory for all taxpayers to quote their Aadhaar numbers while filing their return of income (or while applying for a new PAN number). Under the new Section 139AA of the IT Act, the consequence of not complying with this was an invalidation of the individual’s PAN number. This, in turn, would have a number of serious consequences, affecting an individual’s ability to pay her taxes, as well as being blocked from undertaking a number of transactions (such as buying a motor vehicle, or opening a bank account), all of which require a PAN number. In short, Section 139AA effectively required tax-paying individuals to get an Aadhaar Card, on the pain of visiting severe disabilities upon them in case of non-compliance.

On this blog, we have covered some of the constitutional problems with the Aadhaar scheme (which involves the taking of an individual’s biometric details, iris scan, and demographic information, ostensibly for the purpose of better authentication), the government’s conduct in having the Aadhaar Act passed as a money bill, and the Supreme Court’s continuous evasion of the issue by refusing to hear the pending constitutional challenges. Readers will recall the following facts: on 11th August 2015, when Aadhaar was still an executive scheme, three judges of the Supreme Court had referred the constitutional challenge to a larger bench, on the basis that the constitutional status of the fundamental right to privacy was in some doubt; in the meantime, the Court stipulated that Aadhaar could not be made mandatory for welfare schemes. The Constitution Bench assembled once more in October 2015 to modify that order in some respects. After that, the case has not been heard. In the meantime, Parliament passed the Aadhaar Act, which authorised the State to make Aadhaar mandatory for availing of certain benefits or subsidies. Since the passage of the Aadhaar Act, Aadhaar has been made mandatory for a wide range of goods and services, including midday meals. It is in this context that Section 139AA of the IT Act came into being: a statutory amendment that sought to (effectively) make Aadhaar compulsory for taxpayers.

Section 139AA was challenged before the Supreme Court. The Petitioners, led by senior counsel Arvind P. Datar and Shyam Divan, argued their case before a two-judge bench, over three days, followed by two days of arguments by the Union of India. Mr Datar is due to reply tomorrow, after which the hearing will conclude.

In this post, I will attempt to summarise and contextualise the key points of challenge.

Privacy Not Argued

If a case comes to the Supreme Court where the issues involved are substantially similar to another case that is already pending, the Court “tags” the latter case with the former, and hears the two together. This created a threshold problem for the Petitioners. The constitutional problems with Aadhaar remained the same, whether it was a challenge to the Aadhaar Act itself, or to the Income Tax Act making Aadhaar mandatory to file returns: basically, an alleged violation of the right to privacy. However, that question had been referred to a larger bench on 11th August 2015, and had not yet been heard. Consequently, it was a “pending case”, and according to convention, the Court hearing the challenge to the Income Tax Act would be obliged to “tag” it with the pending proceedings before the larger bench. So Petitioners had a choice: insist on their right to argue privacy, and have the case “tagged” with the pending challenge; or give up the argument on privacy, and attempt to convince the Court that Section 139AA was unconstitutional on other grounds.

Perhaps in view of the fact that the Supreme Court has effectively buried the Aadhaar challenge (three successive Chief Justices have refused to list it for hearing, despite multiple “oral mentionings” asking them to do so), Petitioners chose to go ahead with the challenge to S. 139AA without arguing privacy. This was made clear at the beginning of the hearing by Justice Sikri, who pointed out that there was no stay on Aadhaar in the case pending before the larger bench; at this, both Mr Datar and Mr Divan agreed that they would only argue the 139AA challenge on other grounds.

While Justice Sikri, sitting as part of a two-judge bench, was entirely correct in what he said (indeed, there was nothing else he could have said), the Supreme Court’s institutional disingenuousness here needs to be called out very clearly: as I have detailed in my post on judicial evasion, the constitutional challenge to Aadhaar Act has been pending for one year and eight months, with the Court – or rather, the Chief Justice – simply refusing to constitute the bench to hear it. In the meantime, the government has gone full steam ahead to create a fait accompli situation where the challenge becomes academic. Section 139AA is part of that broader program. By not allowing Petitioners to argue privacy on the ground that it was part of a pending challenge in which no stay had been granted because it had simply never been heard, the Court was – effectively – using its own refusal to hear the case as a reason to make the Petitioners fight this battle with one arm tied behind their backs!

The Arguments of Mr Arvind P. Datar

No Indirect Overruling of Judicial Orders

Mr. Arvind Datar’s first argument was that Section 139AA of the Income Tax Act amounted to an indirect legislative overruling of prior judicial orders stipulating that Aadhaar could only be voluntary. While Mr Datar conceded that Parliament was entitled to overrule a judicial decision or order by legislating to take away its very basis, he drew a distinction between direct overruling (by taking away the basis of a court order), and indirect overruling (the latter, he argued, was impermissible). Relying upon the judgments of the Supreme Court in Madan Mohan Pathak vs Union of IndiaIndian Aluminium Co vs State of Kerala, and Janapada Sabha Chindwara vs Central Provinces Syndicate Ltdhe argued that, in the present case, had Parliament simply passed a law mandating that every individual must have an Aadhaar Number, that would have been a legitimate response to the Court’s orders; however, while the Aadhaar Act continued to insist that getting Aadhaar was voluntary, Parliament had chosen to make it mandatory in a backdoor fashion, by inserting penal consequences for not having Aadhaar in the Income Tax Act. And in case of any doubt, “we should adopt an interpretation which upholds… rights.”

Article 14

Mr Datar argued that Section 139AA violated Article 14 of the Constitution because it drew an arbitrary distinction between assessees who were individuals (and therefore compelled to get an Aadhaar Card), and non-individual assessees (such as an HUF, or a company). If the objective of introducing Section 139AA was to use Aadhaar to check black money and fraud (which the Union claimed that it was), then the distinction between individual and non-individual taxpayers bore no rational nexus to the objective, and fell foul of Article 14. T

The bench asked the natural question: given that non-individuals could not, by definition, obtain Aadhaar cards, wasn’t an Article 14 challenge misconceived to start with? In other words, the Aadhaar Card requirement was a way to check black money and fraud specifically by individual assessees. To this, Mr Datar responded by arguing that there were twelve categories of assessees under the Income Tax Act. Section 139AA picked out one class (individuals), and imposed a burden upon them. This act of disadvantaging one class could only be justified under Article 14 if it had a rational nexus with a legitimate goal; but given that black money and fraudulent transactions were not only crimes committed by individuals, there was no rational nexus between the objective and the act of singling out individuals and making them suffer.

Mr Datar also argued that there was no evidence to show that compulsory Aadhaar would actually fulfil the goal of eliminating black money and preventing fraud (or “shell companies”). In fact, the UIDAI’s own statistics showed that there were likely many duplicate Aadhaar Cards; on the other hand, only 0.4% of all PAN Cards had been shown to be duplicate. Consequently, the State had no evidence to show that a shift from PAN to PAN + Aadhaar would actually serve the goal of eliminating black money and fraud.

Article 19(1)(g) 

Mr Datar argued that an individual without a PAN Card was prohibited from engaging in many transactions that were absolutely basic to life in contemporary society. These included buying or selling a motor vehicle and opening a bank account. A cancelled PAN effectively amounted to a “civil death”. It was, therefore, a violation of the freedom “to practise any profession, or to carry on any occupation, trade or business”, guaranteed by Article 19(1)(g) of the Constitution.

Once it was established that Article 19(1)(g) had been infringed, the burden shifted to the State to show that, under Article 19(6) of the Constitution, the restriction was reasonable, and in the public interest. In Modern Dental College vs State of M.P., a Constitution Bench of the Supreme Court had held that the correct test to apply under Article 19(6) was the test of proportionality. In a judgment authored by Justice Sikri himself, the Court held that “proportionality” involved a showing that the means chosen to achieve the “public interest” goal were themselves narrowly tailored; that is, Article 19(6) could not save a statute if it could be shown that some other method, which infringed rights to a lesser degree, could achieve the same goal. Mr Datar argued that – once again – in view of the fact that only 0.4% of all PAN Cards were found to be duplicate, and in view of Aadhaar’s own, widely publicised failings (using the UIDAI’s own data), it could not be argued that compulsory Aadhaar was a “proportionate” restriction upon the right under Article 19(1)(g).

Colourable Exercise of Power

Mr Datar concluded by arguing that Section 139AA amounted to a colourable exercise of legislative power. Solemn undertakings had been given by the Union of India to the Supreme Court that Aadhaar would remain voluntary. Aadhaar remained voluntary under the parent statute (the Aadhaar Act), but there was now a back-door attempt to make it mandatory through the Income Tax Act. In fact, the Statement of Objects and Reasons of the Aadhaar Act themselves made no mention of black money or fraud; Mr Datar argued that if Aadhaar was to be used for that purpose, then surely there would have been some indication of that in the parent statute. All these factors combined pointed to a clear colourable exercise of power. Mr Datar submitted that Section 139AA should accordingly be struck down as unconstitutional.

The Arguments of Mr Shyam Divan

Collision Between the Aadhaar Act and the Income Tax Act

Mr Shyam Divan argued that there was a “collision” between the Aadhaar Act and the Income Tax Act. The former made it clear that Aadhaar was to be a voluntary scheme. While the Government could make it mandatory for the purposes of availing of subsidies, it could not compel people to get an Aadhaar Number, simpliciter. The Income Tax Amendment, however, effectively compelled people to part with their biometric information and iris scans, on the pain of penal consequences. In other words, Section 139AA made mandatory what the Aadhaar Act guaranteed would be voluntary.

In response to the Bench’s observation, that surely it was open to Parliament to create two different statutory regimes – one in which Aadhaar was voluntary, and the other in which it was made mandatory for the purposes of paying Income Tax – Mr Divan argued that the Aadhaar Act and Section 139AA could not be viewed in isolation in such a manner. The Aadhaar Act was the parent statute: and everything in the Aadhaar Act suggested that, from the moment of enrolment, it was a purely voluntary exercise. Now, you could not engraft a scheme whose very basis was voluntariness and free consent, into the Income Tax Act, and make it mandatory. It was in that sense that the procedures under the Aadhaar Act and the Income Tax Act were “in collision”.  Mr Divan therefore invited the Bench to read down Section 139AA of the IT Act by interpreting the word “shall” as “may”; or, in other words, convert the mandatory requirement under 139AA into voluntariness, in order to bring the Aadhaar Act and Section 139AA into harmony.

Article 14

Mr Divan’s case under Article 14 was different in important respects from Mr Datar’s. While Mr Datar had drawn a distinction between individual and non-individual assessees, Mr Divan drew a distinction between individual assessees who consented to getting an Aadhaar Card, and other individual assessees who didn’t. He argued that Section 139AA drew a distinction within this homogenous class of persons, and disadvantaged the latter. Now, in view of his previous submission – that the parent Aadhaar Act made it clear that Aadhaar was voluntary – drawing a distinction between those who had chosen to get an Aadhaar Card, and those who would now be required to get an Aadhaar Card to pay their taxes, and placing a burden upon the latter – constituted ex facie discrimination. In other words, the statute’s very purpose was discriminatory, on its face (which, according to the judgment of the Supreme Court striking down S. 6 of the DSPE Act, was impermissible). Hence, there was no need to go into questions of classification and nexus: the amendment was presumptively unconstitutional under Article 14.

Bodily Integrity

Mr Divan argued that biometric information and iris scans belonged to the individual. They were, effectively, part of the individual’s body. He cited a range of thinkers, from Hobbes and Locke on the one hand, to Salmond and Rawls on the other, to argue for the individual’s absolute ownership of her body, and her right to bodily integrity under Article 21 of the Constitution. What, he asked, did Article 21 protect, if it did not protect the body?

Justice Bhushan pointed out that at the time of issuing a passport, similar information was taken from the individual. Mr Divan argued, however, that while it was permissible to take such information for limited and narrow purposes (for instance, for the purposes of identifying an individual in case of an emergency while she was abroad), and where there was a compelling State interest, those conditions were not satisfied in the present case. Mr Divan also invoked the 1920 Identification of Prisoners Act to argue that even in pre-Constitutional, colonial statutes, information that had to do with the body was collected only in very specific circumstances, and only for a very narrow set of purposes, where it was absolutely necessary to do so. Even a refusal would only lead to an adverse inference. That manner of necessity had not been demonstrated in the present case – especially in light of the fact that Aadhaar was suffering from numerous problems of duplication and public leakages (instances of which were cited to the Court).

In sum, Mr Divan argued that fingerprints and iris scans belonged to the individual, as integral parts of her body. They could not be “nationalised” or “expropriated” by the State without express consent, unless there was a compelling State interest, and the infringement was narrowly tailored. The argument of compelling State interest and narrow tailoring may justify, for instance, the taking of DNA or blood samples in certain limited circumstances (this was in response to a question from Justice Bhushan), but certainly did not permit the kind of 24/7 tracking system established by Aadhaar. What Aadhaar was doing, Mr Divan argued, was fundamentally changing the nature of the relationship between the individual and the State; it was shifting the balance of power between individual and State to the extent that it ended up betraying the promise of the Constitution to establish “limited government”. The Constitution, he argued, was not a “charter of servitude“; it envisaged free individuals, whose bodies could not be invaded without their express consent. He relied upon the judgments of the Supreme Court in Sunil Batra vs Delhi AdministrationNALSA vs Union of India and Aruna Shanbaug vs Union of India, to highlight the importance of bodily integrity under Article 21 and the constitutional scheme.

Personal Autonomy and Informational Self-Determination

Mr Divan argued that in the digital age, the right to informational self-determination had become a crucial facet of the right to personal autonomy, and was protected under Articles 14, 19, and 21 of the Constitution. The principle of informational self-determination – which had its origins in German constitutional doctrine, with the Population Census Case, and had now been accepted in both Canadian and South African Constitutional law – stipulated that an individual had the right to limit what she put out to the world about herself. Its basis was not privacy, but the principles of dignity and personal autonomy, both of which were long recognised under Indian constitutional doctrine. Informational self-determination was essential for the free development of the individual. Moreover, it was not simply an individual right: likewise, the free development of the individual was essential to constitute a free and democratic society, and a free and democratic communicative order.

In the case of Aadhaar, Mr Divan argued, the principle of informational self-determination was specifically compromised because data was required to be handed over to private parties. These private parties’ only accountability was in the form of a “Memorandum of Understanding” with the government; there were minimal data protection safeguards imposed upon them, and indeed, 34,000 such independent operators had been blacklisted by the government. In fact, the MoU’s allowed the registrars of these entities to retain biometric data with them, something that could have potentially devastating consequences. In sum, compelling the handing over of personal data to private parties with such minimal safeguards over their functioning amounted to “a complete destruction of personal autonomy [and] a debasement of… [the] right to informational self-determination.”

Compelled Speech

Mr Divan then argued that compelled extraction of demographic information in Aadhaar – and even more, compelled extraction of biometric data and iris scans – effectively amounted to compelled speech, which was an infringement of Article 19(1)(a) of the Constitution. In the case of Bijoe Emmanuel vs State of Kerala, the Article 19(1)(a) rights of Jehovahs Witnesses to not be compelled to sing the national anthem had been recognised by the Supreme Court. The Jehovahs’ Witnesses, argued Mr Divan, were willing to stand up and respect the national anthem, but not to sing it; similarly, non-Aadhaar tax payers were willing to respect the law of the land and pay their taxes – only not by parting with their biometric and demographic information.

Proportionality

Mr Divan reiterated Mr Datar’s argument that, in view of the Government’s own data that only 0.4% of PAN Cards were duplicates, this move was simply disproportionate.

Legislative Competence 

Mr Divan argued that there was no legislative entry in the Seventh Schedule that allowed for a right of “eminent domain” over the individual body. Consequently, the State was barred from “nationalising” the individual’s fingerprints and biometric data, except in the narrowest of circumstances. At best, the State could act as a “trustee”, or a “fiduciary”, of a person’s property in themselves. It could not compel beneficiaries to permanently part with it, especially in view of the fact that giving up one’s fingerprints and iris scans was a permanent act. Under the Constitution, the State could not simply take that data and store it in a centralised database.

Conclusion

Mr Divan ended by arguing that Section 139AA had serious impacts on the freedom of trade and commerce, the freedom of speech and expression, and the freedom of association (one could hardly form associations without a bank account). He argued that what the Union of India was doing was effectively a bait-and-swith, in the mould of Humpty Dumpty in Alice Through the Looking Glass, who had stated that a word meant exactly what he said it meant: the Union was doing something similar with the “mandatory voluntary” nature of Aadhaar.

In view of all of that, he requested the Court to strike down or read down the Section. However, he had an alternative prayer as well: in case the Court felt that the privacy and non-privacy issues in the case were inseparable, then they could refer and “tag” the case with the pending hearing; however, in view of the fact that the situation would become irreversible after July 1 (the day the amendment would come into effect), at the very least, he requested the Court to stay the provision, or prohibit coercive action by the State to implement it, until the final decision. All the previous orders of the Court had recognised the gravity of the situation, and protected status quo.

(Disclosure: The author assisted Mr Datar in the constitutional challenge before the Court.)

12 Comments

Filed under aadhaar, Article 21 and the Right to Life, Bodily Integrity, Bodily Privacy/Integrity, Privacy

The Bombay High Court’s Abortion Judgment: Some Unanswered Questions

On 19th September, a division bench of the Bombay High Court handed down a judgment on the interpretation of the Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act, 1973 (India’s abortion law). The case arose out of a suo motu PIL, which itself had arisen out of concern with the deplorable condition of a female prison inmate, but was subsequently expanded to deal with the termination of pregnancy of female prison inmates in general.

After considering the implementation of the Rules in the Maharashtra Prisons Manual, the Court moved on to an examination of the Medical Termination of Pregnancy Act. The relevant section(s) of the MTP Act are:

“Sec. 3(2) Subject to the provisions of sub-section (4), a pregnancy may be terminated by a registered medical practitioner,-

(a) where the length of the pregnancy does not exceed twelve weeks if such medical practitioner is, or

(b) where the length of the pregnancy exceeds twelve weeks but does not exceed twenty weeks, if not less than two registered medical practitioners are of opinion, formed in good faith, that,-

(i) the continuance of the pregnancy would involve a risk to the life of the pregnant woman or of grave injury physical or mental health ; or

(ii) there is a substantial risk that if the child were born, it would suffer from such physical or mental abnormalities as to be seriously handicapped.

Explanation 1.-Where any, pregnancy is alleged by the pregnant woman to have been caused by rape, the anguish caused by such pregnancy shall be presumed to constitute a grave injury to the mental health of the pregnant woman.

Explanation 2.-Where any pregnancy occurs as a result of failure of any device or method used by any married woman or her husband for the purpose of limiting the number of children, the anguish caused by such unwanted pregnancy may be presumed to constitute a grave injury to the mental health of the pregnant woman.

With respect to Explanation 2 being limited to contraceptive failure in case of married couples, the High Court held that “today a man and a woman who are in live-in-relationship, cannot be covered under Explanation 2 whereas Explanation 2 should be read to mean any couple living together like a married couple.” (Consider the similarities with US vs Windsor) Unfortunately, however, the High Court provided no principled justification for this expansive reading of the term “married”. Presumably, the justification lies in the requirement that statutory texts must be interpreted in light of background constitutional principles (see here for a more detailed analysis of this doctrine); which constitutional principles was the Court applying, however? The answer would have implications going beyond the specifics of this case. For instance, if the background principle was equality, and the irrationality of drawing a distinction between married and unmarried couples, then a similar argument could potentially be raised to attack the married/unmarried distinction in the marital rape exception. On the other hand, if the background principle was the right of the woman to bodily integrity and decisional autonomy (something the Court went into subsequently), then there could be no justification for limiting the Explanation to couples living together as married. Consequently, it would be vulnerable to a possible future constitutional challenge asking the Court to strike off the word “married” from the statute altogether, and extend its application to all women. Therefore, the Court’s laconic reading of “married” to include relationships in the nature of marriage, despite its undeniably important practical implications, is something of a missed opportunity.

In subsequent paragraphs, the Court then examined pregnancy, and the unequal burdens that it imposed upon women. It observed that:

“There are social, financial and other aspects immediately attached to the pregnancy of the woman and if pregnancy is unwanted, it can have serious repercussions. It undoubtedly affects her mental health… it is mandatory on the registered medical practitioner while forming opinion of necessity of termination of pregnancy to take into account whether it is injurious to her physical or mental health.”

The Court’s focus on mental health – and its observation that because of its social, financial and other aspects, unwanted pregnancies affect women’s mental health – are important, because under Section 3, the medical practitioner must make a “good faith” assessment about whether the pregnancy is harming the woman’s mental health. Taking this forward, the Court then noted that:

“A woman’s decision to terminate a pregnancy is not a frivolous one. Abortion is often the only way out of a very difficult situation for a woman. An abortion is a carefully considered decision taken by a woman who fears that the welfare of the child she already has, and of other members of the household that she is obliged to care for with limited financial and other resources, may be compromised by the birth of another child… these are decisions taken by responsible women who have few other options. They are women who would ideally have preferred to prevent an unwanted pregnancy, but were unable to do so. If a woman does not want to continue with the pregnancy, then forcing her to do so represents a violation of the woman’s bodily integrity and aggravates her mental trauma which would be deleterious to her mental health.”

And further:

“The right to control their own body and fertility and motherhood choices should be left to the women alone. Let us not lose sight of the basic right of women: the right to autonomy and to decide what to do with their own bodies, including whether or not to get pregnant and stay pregnant.”

The Court went on to affirm that the right to reproductive choice was a facet of ‘personal liberty’ under Article 21 of the Constitution. These observations, it would appear, lead to only one conclusion: if the woman’s right to bodily integrity and decisional autonomy is paramount, then, under Section 3, her decision to terminate the pregnancy must be dispositive of the question of good faith; in other words, the medical practitioner cannot, in “good faith”, contradict the woman’s informed choice to terminate her pregnancy, or substitute his judgment about what constitutes a threat to her mental health over hers. Inexplicably, however, the Court did not make this last – but crucial – interpretive step. After making its remarks about bodily integrity and decisional autonomy, the Court went back to the original question of prison inmate pregnancies, and passed directions to facilitate termination “in accordance” with the MTP Act.

Consequently, the Court’s treatment of Section 3 is – in my view – an even greater missed opportunity than it’s reading of Explanation 2 (where, at least, it returned a clear interpretive finding). Once the Court had gone as far as to say that an unwanted pregnancy, ipso facto, presented a substantial danger to a woman’s mental health because of its economic and social consequences, it required but a small, further step to hold that, in the background of Article 21, Section 3’s “good faith” requirement made the woman’s decision paramount. In the absence of a direct interpretive finding though, there is a risk that the judgment – like many other well-intentioned judicial efforts – will remain mere rhetoric.

It is also an opportunity missed from the perspective of the evolution of constitutional doctrine. What the Court was effectively doing, both in its reading of Explanation 2, and in its interpretation of Section 3, was interpreting statutory provisions in light of the Constitution, in order that they would yield a meaning that was not immediately obvious or intuitive. Reading statutes in light of the basic law is a practice that has nuanced variants in different jurisdictions. How far can a Court go? Is this mode of interpretation limited to situations where there are two equally valid interpretations of a statute, and the Court then selects the one that is more in conformity with constitutional principles (New Zealand)? Or – slightly stronger – may the Court select the meaning that is most in conformity with the Constitution, as long as it can be plausibly borne by the text (UK and the Human Rights Act)? Or can the background law become constitutive of statutory meaning (Germany)? The Bombay High Court, in this case, found itself on the strong side of the spectrum – it effectively used the background Constitutional principles to attribute meanings to “marriage” and “good faith” that could almost certainly not be supported independently (but were not entirely outside the bounds of possibility either). Indian doctrine has, at various times, adopted these differing standards, without a clear conceptual analysis about what the Constitution actually requires, by way of interpretation. The wait for that will continue.

4 Comments

Filed under Article 21 and the Right to Life, Bodily Integrity, Constitutional interpretation