The Rajasthan Ordinance, and Seeking Sanction to Prosecute and Investigate Public Servants in India

In September 2017, the Rajasthan government issued an ordinance that sought to (i) make it necessary for investigating authorities to first get sanction from the government before pursuing allegations against a public servant, giving the government up to six months to consider, and (ii) bar any person from disclosing any details about the concerned official until this permission had been granted. The Government has since moved a bill in the legislature to make the law permanent, while the ordinance itself has been challenged before the Rajasthan High Court which is yet to decide the case. News media has seen few supporters barring a Junior Law Minister in the Union government supposedly considers the ordinance 'perfect and balanced'. Most others are challenging it for stifling investigations and illegally curbing the constitutionally protected freedom of speech.  

Are there any merits to, if not all, then some parts, of the Ordinance? Might we see more such ordinances across states in the near future if Rajasthan's version passes judicial muster? I have been thinking about these questions, and here, I try and understand them through this post. Understanding needs context, which is often absent from discussions of sanction in India. This post begins with a brief historical introduction to the 'sanction to prosecute', flagging the recent constitutional problems surrounding the concept. I then try and suggest that the Rajasthan ordinance is the logical aftermath of the judicial treatment of sanction. This means, unfortunately, that this is a rather long post. I hope it isn't long and pointless.

The Imperial Lineage of Sanction to Prosecute

Most legal systems recognise the right of an individual to pursue legal remedies when her rights are violated. If you beat me up, I have the right to pursue a case in court against you. In India, this can happen by either approaching the police who might take the case to court after investigation, or by going to court yourself. Now, it is easy to imagine the possibility of this (or any) right being abused - I might bring a false case to harass my opponent. We address this through preventing or punishing such conduct. The idea of seeking permissions to bring lawsuits fits in the former, which is basically what seeking 'sanction to prosecute' is. An administrative superior acts as a filter to ensure frivolous cases are not brought in court against public officials. The Criminal Procedure Code 1973 [Cr.P.C.] carries this filter in Section 197, which requires prior sanction to 'prosecute' (this is important) public servants (both serving and retired ones) only when allegations concern things they did actually in the course of duty, or purporting to be so.      

But why public officials, you might ask. An educated guess is India's colonial context informed this decision to protect those associated with government. The colonial regime introduced sanction in its first comprehensive criminal procedure code of 1861 [Section 167, at page 186 of the link], and kept it in the 1872 Code [Section 466, at page 509]. The modern version of this which I referred to above came in the 1898 Code [also Section 197, at page 141]. Broad protections shielded those working for the government who, to put it mildly, did not hesitate to step beyond the bounds of law while discharging their duties. A harsh terrain mandated harsh methods, and to allow prosecutions would stifle the governance project (opening for potential historical research examining if native and British persons were treated differently when it came to granting sanction!). Though speculative, I think this idea fits better than the arguments floated in London to defend similar restrictions to prosecute (the link is for debates in 1934, but the law remained the same even before). English law focused more on the nature of the offence rather than the offender - sedition, corruption and other potentially sensitive allegations could only be pursued with the Attorney General's consent, while the Indian version focused on the identity of the defendant and covered every person under the pay of the government. 

Over time it seems this justification changes, as seen from debates in the House on the Government of India Act 1935, which gave constitutional bases to protections for public servants from suits and prosecutions [Sections 270-71, at page 105. Fascinating, showing the crown was concerned about soon-to-be-elected local governments possibly changing the law on this front]. The legislature spent more time discussing civil suits, but the debates are useful for the criminal prosecution issue nonetheless. Mr. Thorp (column 54) spoke of how it was 'introducing a dangerous principle'  to India and could hurt genuine cases, while the Duchess of Atholl (column 55) spoke of apprehensions that the clause 'falls short of what civil servants feel to be necessary'. This largely mirrors the divide that we see today. Bureaucrats consider it necessary to have these protections to perform their duties while aggrieved persons consider them as impediments of entitlement. 

Independent India and the Opportunity Doctrine 

What became of the requirement of sanction in independent India? Well, it was quickly subjected to a constitutional challenge. In Matajog Dobey [AIR 1956 SC 44] the petitioner argued that Section 197 violated the equal protection clause by giving public servants protections from legal proceedings that others did not have. The Court swatted this aside by holding that public officials 'have to be protected from harassment in the discharge of official duties' while ordinary citizens did not. The vast category of public servants under the pay of the government - both union and state - was thus recognised as a class separate from all others, a distinction that has not been displaced. 

This did not mean the judiciary was not concerned with the debates that I highlighted above. In fact, the concern was palpable. High Courts before independence, and later the Supreme Court too, were acutely aware of the tightrope being tread - read the requirement too narrowly and you render the protection illusory, but read it to cover everything a public servant does and you make accountability a mirage. The judicial device created to navigate this problem was what I will call the 'Opportunity Doctrine' - if public office merely gave an opportunity to commit crime, then there was no need to get sanction. But where the alleged criminal acts were inseparable from the office and were 'integrally connected' to official duty, sanction was a must. So, if a public official misuses the privileges of office (goes on a joyride with government sponsored fuel) then prosecuting that offence should not require sanction. But if a municipal authority colludes with one real-estate developer to allot land at cheap rates, then we may need prior sanction to prosecute.          

The malleability of the Opportunity Doctrine should not go unnoticed - beyond the obvious cases it left a huge middle ground to be navigated with little more than gut instinct. For instance - what about the bank official who pilfers funds for his own use? Did his job merely grant an opportunity, or was it integral to the crime? The judicial grappling with sanction had a significant impact on the text itself. For starters, the test ignored that Section 197 never required an integral connection with duty: it's needs were met even if the acts were purportedly in discharge of duty. Since sanction was a tool to filter cases at the outset, it naturally required this broad scope. Considering whether sanction was needed in post-conviction review (appeals) by courts slowly dislocated it from its preventive roots. After all, how willing would a judge be to reverse a conviction arrived at after a lengthy trial on the technicality of there being no sanction to prosecute an official? This version undoubtedly tapers over the cracks but it would be difficult to argue that the broad shifts are not as I suggest.  

The Intra-Branch Dialogue and Sanctions to Investigate 

Thus we see how courts assumed control of the sanction to prosecute after having refused to strike it down as unconstitutional. Did this happen in a vacuum? Or did the legislature and executive - consisting several public servants protected by sanction - react? They did, and pretty quickly. In 1969 the government passed directions to the Central Bureau of Investigation that prevented it from starting any investigations against high-ranking public servants before getting permission. This was the 'Single Directive'. The thinking is clear - courts are applying a hindsight test which does not filter well, so lets go further back in time and filter at the institution of criminal cases. While doing this, the government impliedly admitted that the sanction protections are too broad to justify the rationale of their protecting public decision-making. Of course decision-makers must be treated differently from the ordinary rank-and-file bureaucrats, and so the latter would not be granted these protections.    

The Supreme Court did not agree that the public servants could be segregated like this. When the Supreme Court held this arrangement illegal, the government responded by re-introducing it almost immediately. When the Court slapped on the government's knuckles it retreated and withdrew the proposed change. But in 2003, it went ahead and amended the law to give it firm footing. While India's major political parties often don't look eye to eye, these moves were made both by the Congress and BJP led governments, showing a fairly clear indication of legislative will. What happens next? This statutory provision [Section 6-A of the Delhi Special Police Establishment Act 1946] was also struck down as invalid by the Court in 2014. On both occasions when the court struck down this protection, it did not overturn the Matajog decision to find sanction requirements were bad for creating an invidious classification between persons. Instead, the Court held that protecting only a class of bureaucrats was bad. How do you read this? Is the Court saying sanction should be limited to instituting prosecutions as done in the CrPC? Or is it saying that some public servants are not more equal than others, but all public servants are more equal than the rest of us. The second is a fair reading, and it was something the Court had agreed to in MK Aiyappa while handling sanction requirements under the Prevention of Corruption Act 1988 (a blistering commentary on the case can be read here). If the court reads the law this way, does it come as a surprise that others, such as the Rajasthan and Maharashtra governments, are doing the same? 

Past, Present, but what of the Future?

Maybe it is just me, but I can't help but notice patterns in how the law on sanctions to prosecute has been developing over time. There is a constant back and forth between the court and government - the court restricts its scope, the government expands it again. All of this was happening within the bounds of the constitution until the Supreme Court upped the ante and held the Single Directive to be unconstitutional in 1998. The government had been running the initiative for nearly thirty years to ensure lax sanction rules did not affect decision-makers, and the Court decided it didn't matter in the language which it could use - the Constitution. Was it inopportune? Perhaps. If the Court had a problem with having a sanction requirement then it should have said it outright. If it didn't, then there were better methods of dealing with the situation than refusing to acknowledge the few merits in the Single Directive scheme and starting a power tussle with the government. Today, because of how the Court avoided the forest for the trees, I think it will be hard for the Rajasthan High Court to hold that needing permission to start an investigation against public servants is unconstitutional. That might just convince the remaining BJP led states to pass similar laws, eventually bringing us back to the Supreme Court. Might the Court finally reconsider its position on all public servants being a separate class from the public?  

Limiting Private Prosecutions in Criminal Law?

Standard criminal procedure lessons in India devote some time on how the Indian criminal process can be set in motion through various ways. Section 190 - on taking cognizance of offences by courts - indicates that a Court may take such cognizance on a police report, and also on a private complaint. It places 'private complaint' [190(1)(a) Cr.P.C.] above 'police report' [190(1)(b) Cr.P.C.], interestingly enough. If a case is begun on a complaint, then the procedure under Sections 200-203 of the Cr.P.C. gets activated, before we arrive at the issue of deciding whether or not persons ought to be summoned for trial [Section 204 Cr.P.C.]. Have you ever thought that, perhaps, this makes it too easy to initiate criminal proceedings and takes away some force out of them? 

Labelling anything is meant to convey a meaning to society, guiding it on how to consider a certain phenomenon or behaviour. So, calling something a crime has historically meant to convey to society that such acts or omissions are wrong. They not only merit censure, and also attract sanctions in the form of fines, or imprisonment. This was one of those fundamental criminal law lectures, where criminal law was portrayed as a affecting society, whereas civil suits were of a more private nature. But how do we know whether something really does affect society, and how is society's will reflecting itself? While the former has never been satisfactorily explained, one method of achieving the latter was to make a public authority responsible for initiating prosecutions. The European Court of Human Rights recognised this as one of the defining features of a 'criminal' proceeding [Benham v United Kingdom, (1996) ECHR 22], and we see Prosecutors being tasked with this responsibility across jurisdiction. The merits of this are obvious; two significant ones are (i) prosecutorial guidelines ensure that only a certain degree of seriousness gets fixed with the criminal label, and (ii) there is greater uniformity in arriving at these decisions. 

In India, private prosecutions are an extremely common route adopted in criminal proceedings. These are not restricted to only the less serious, non-cognizable, variety of offences but can also form the basis of serious prosecutions for offences such as forgery, that are punishable with life imprisonment. In my limited experience, I have seen these provisions being flouted as often as they are genuinely harnessed by litigants. Since there are no few costs to be incurred, it is a common strategy to file complaint cases in order to exert pressure when parties have a set of on-going disputes. The ease with which complaint cases can be filed means that this strategy is adopted with remarkable frequency. Not only does this worsen the judicial backlog and wastes public money (often cases end up getting settled outside of court), I argue that it weakens the symbolic value that the criminal law has. This is a larger problem that private prosecution entails even if it is not mala fide. Allowing parties to invoke criminal sanctions to resolve inter-se disputes reduces the seriousness that the label of criminality attracts. It becomes trivial, reducing it to just another card that the players have up their sleeves. If you don't believe me, try speaking to ten entrepreneurs running a small to medium sized business. I can bet you that at least one of them has been involved in a Negotiable Instruments Act case (cheque bouncing), or has seen a case of Cheating [Section 420 IPC] or Criminal Breach of Trust [Sections 406, 409 IPC]. This is definitely a slippery slope, I admit. Cases where a larger societal interest may be made out will almost always have a very individualistic element with particular parties being wronged by the particular acts or omissions. I must also admit here that my argument has decidedly more appeal in a commercial context - where parties are seen as having parallel remedies in civil proceedings (so a cheating case may well see a suit for recovery of monies). But, this is exactly what supports a more selective process, that helps maintain a balance and prosecute only those disputes that have some larger societal interest.

Should private prosecutions be culled in such a commercial/business context, then? As much as I would like to see that happen, I know it is impossible to realise that idea in the context of Indian criminal law. There are two primary reasons for this - the police, and the prosecutorial system. The police are notorious for failing to register cases and pursue investigations. Investigations, on average, end up taking over a year to complete. In that time it is possible to invoke the jurisdiction of the Court through a complaint and guide a case to the point of summoning potential accused persons. Most litigants, and courts, will admit that the police are often approached in such cases for the pressure that a police investigation brings with it, rather than some investigatorial nous. But a far bigger problem is the prosecutorial setup in India, or lack thereof, despite the introduction in 2005 of a 'Directorate of Prosecutions' by Section 25-A Cr.P.C. As a matter of practice, prosecutors appear seldom involved in the decision that brings a case to Court after a police investigation, while they are statutorily empowered to withdraw cases [Section 321 Cr.P.C.]. That is in respect of cases run by the police. The situation is different for complaint cases, where there is no effective mechanism in place that allows a litigant or court to involve the Directorate of Prosecutions to decide at the outset whether cases should be prosecuted. Again, statutory mechanisms allow for a serious case to be co-opted [Section 225 Cr.P.C.], but there is nothing that allows the prosecution branch to suggest, for instance, that perhaps valuable judicial time should be spent in proceeding to trial in a case which ultimately does not display a need to invoke criminal sanctions. In England and Wales, for instance, a right of private prosecution exists but a private prosecution may be later co-opted or controlled by the Director of Public Prosecutions [Prosecution of Offences Act, 1985]. 

So we find ourselves in a peculiar situation where the solution to these problems of ineffective police and prosecutorial systems is itself coming with the added costs of inflated dockets and reduced value of the criminal law. In times like these, the criminal law certainly seems like a lost cause.

[This post was updated on 22.02.2017 at 02:15 AM]

Complaints, Chargesheets, and Taking Cognizance

Section 190(1) of the Cr.P.C. 1973 outlines three ways in which a Magistrate may take cognizance of offences: (a) on the basis of a Complaint of facts disclosing an offence, (b) on the basis of a Police Report of such facts, and (c) on information from any other person or his own knowledge, that such an offence has been committed. In some cases however, a Special Act may restrict the manner in which cognizance of offences may be taken by the Magistrate. Consider, for instance, Section 13(3) of the Official Secrets Act, 1923 says: no court shall take cognizance of any offence under this Act except upon complaint made by order of, or under authority from, the appropriate government or some officer duly empowered by the appropriate government in this behalf [emphasis supplied].

While these provisions were anomalous earlier, today with a host of special criminal statutes we find such provisions quite common. It is, therefore, not only interesting but also important to discuss some problems surrounding this area. 

How to Treat Special Complaints 

Ordinarily, one imagines the Complaint as being filed by a private person, who does not have the abundant investigative resources of the State to support him. The Police Report, on the other hand, is the product of these resources at the State's disposal. So where a statute requires an authorised officer to file a complaint, we cannot be blamed for thinking that this is more akin to a Police Report than a Complaint. But these are technical terms: 'Complaint' and 'Police Report' are defined under Section 2(d) and 2(r) of the Code respectively. Therefore the canons of statutory interpretation demand that we interpret the text literally rather than second-guess the meaning behind the text.

How we treat Special Complaints of the kind mentioned in Section 13(3) of the Official Secrets Act is not a mere academic inquiry. There are several consequences unique to cases instituted upon a Complaint and Police Report. For instance:

• Filing of a Police Report under Section 173, Cr.P.C. allows for further investigation under Section 173(8), which is not present for Complaints. Nor can there be supplementary charge-sheets.
• Only in cases instituted upon a Police Report does an Accused have the judicially protected right to supply of documents under Section 207, Cr.P.C.
• The procedure for trial in Warrant Cases instituted upon a Police Report differs from those instituted upon a Complaint.
• The Maharashtra Control of Organised Crimes Act 1999 [MCOCA] punishes 'continuing unlawful activity' which is defined as any activity prohibited by law in respect of which one or more charge-sheets have been filed.

Therefore, the treatment of Special Complaints as falling within the definition of a 'Complaint' or 'Police Report' has potentially significant consequences. Beyond the issues highlighted above, another issue involves taking cognizance. What provision would be invoked while taking cognizance of Special Complaints: Section 190(1)(a) or (b)? Or would Section 190 be invoked at all? 

Judicial Interpretation

The judiciary's treatment of these issues makes my academic excitement feel like dead rubber. With due regard to the canon of literal interpretation, courts have held that a Special Complaint is exactly that, a Complaint. Lets revisit the issues highlighted above before we move to cognizance.

• In S. Nagrajan v. State [Crl. Rev. Petition No. 321/2004, decided on 15.03.2013] the Delhi High Court held that no further investigation akin to Section 173(8) was possible for a Special Complaint under the erstwhile Prevention of Food Adulteration Act, 1954. 
• Similarly, in Ajit Narain Haksar v. State of Karnataka [ILR 2002 Kar 2175], the Karnataka High Court held there could be no supplementary complaints under the Central Excise & Salt Act 1944 akin to supplementary charge-sheets. [Importantly though, the Jharkhand High Court arrived at the opposite conclusion for the Prevention of Money Laundering Act. See, Narendra Mohan Singh v. Directorate of Encforcement, Crl. M.P. No. 2863/13, decided on 22.03.2014]. 
• In State of Maharashtra v. Ajay Jagdish Pande [Crl. Appeal No. 722/12, decided on 25.0.2014], the Bombay High Court held that a Special Complaint for offences under the Environment Protection Act 1988 could not be a 'Charge-sheet' for the definition of 'continuing unlawful activity' under the MCOCA.

Problems with cognizance came in a rather more direct fashion. Courts were provided with a Police Report where the statute specifically provided for cognizance to be taken on a Complaint by an authorised officer. Two problems emerged: (a) would such taking of cognizance be illegal, and (b) would it vitiate proceedings. 

Unsurprisingly, the Delhi High Court in Aniruddha Bahal v. CBI [210 (2014) DLT 292], relying upon the decision of the Supreme Court in Jeewan Kumar Raut v. CBI [AIR 2009 SC 2763], held that cognizance of offences on a Police Report is illegal where the statute expressly mandated it to be on a complaint. The Court was specifically concerned with offences under the Official Secrets Act. Interestingly though, the Court seems to go further and answer point (b) in the affirmative. 

Is this proper? Sections 460 and 461 of the Cr.P.C. detail circumstances which are irregularities and illegalities. Erroneous taking of cognizance under Section 190 is covered by Section 460 clause (d), thus preventing proceedings from being set aside merely on this ground. However, cognizance is not being taken under Section 190 for any of those Special Complaints. It is being taken under the particular provisions of the concerned special statute, and that procedure should override the general procedure in accordance with Section 4(2) of the Cr.P.C.

Conclusion

In 1967, the Law Commission of India in its 37th Report on the Code of Criminal Procedure 1898 [the official cover page has a typo] observed there was confusion regarding the definition of complaints and taking cognizance. It suggested an amendments may be made to Section 190(1)(b) of the Old Code to "cover specifically reports under other sections of the Code or under other laws". Section 190(1)(b) of the Old Code is identical to the current Section, which means the Commission considered including reports under other laws closer to a Police Report than a Complaint. 

A concrete suggestion for an amendment never emerged as the project was abandoned, but this gives some insight into the confusion prevailing in the area. Forty years later we see the Supreme Court come to the opposite conclusion in Jeewan Kumar Raut. Though most decisions indicate the term Complaint' must exclude a 'Police Report', contrary voices do exist and may yet lead to another intervention by the Apex Court. However, what may prove more important is the consequence of a finding that cognizance was illegally taken. The decision in Aniruddha Bahal does not discuss the aspect of Section 460, which leaves it open for the law to head in a different course. Expect more clarity over the course of this year, as that decision gets exposed across different settings.