Centre suggests abolishing PIL as concept

Centre questions PIL in Sabarimala case. Is it judicial reform or a rollback of access to justice in India’s constitutional framework?

The Union government’s recent suggestion before the Supreme Court of India—that it may be time to reconsider, even abolish, Public Interest Litigation (PIL) in the context of the Sabarimala Case—is not merely a procedural argument. It is a deeply political statement about who gets to access constitutional remedies, and under what circumstances.

To understand the weight of this claim, one must revisit what PIL represents. Conceived as a judicial innovation in the late 1970s and 1980s, PIL transformed the Court from a passive arbiter into an active guardian of rights. It allowed individuals and groups—often not directly affected—to approach the Court on behalf of those who could not. In doing so, it democratized access to justice.

But what the Centre now appears to argue is that this very democratization has gone too far.

The Sabarimala Flashpoint

The Sabarimala Temple dispute, which revolved around the exclusion of women of a certain age group from entering the shrine, became one of the most polarizing constitutional cases in recent memory. In its 2018 judgment, the Supreme Court opened the temple to women of all ages, framing the issue as one of equality and constitutional morality.

However, the aftermath revealed something more complex: intense social backlash, competing claims of religious autonomy, and an ongoing constitutional churn through review petitions.

The Core Argument: Locus Standi Revisited

At the heart of the Centre’s submission is a revival of the traditional doctrine of locus standi—the idea that only those directly affected should be allowed to approach the Court. PIL had diluted this requirement, allowing public-spirited individuals to raise issues of broader constitutional significance.

The government’s position implicitly questions this dilution. It suggests that in sensitive matters—particularly those involving religion—judicial intervention should be more restrained, and access to the Court more narrowly defined.

This is not an entirely unpersuasive argument. PILs have, over time, been criticized for opening floodgates to frivolous litigation, judicial overreach, and even politically motivated petitions masquerading as public interest.

Yet, to argue for abolishing PIL altogether—rather than reforming it—is a far more radical proposition.

Between Reform and Rollback

There is a difference between tightening procedural safeguards and dismantling a constitutional mechanism. PIL, despite its excesses, remains one of the most powerful tools for accountability in India. Environmental protections, prison reforms, labour rights—many of these advances owe their existence to PIL jurisprudence.

To remove this mechanism in response to controversial outcomes like Sabarimala risks throwing the baby out with the bathwater.

More importantly, it raises a troubling question: should access to constitutional justice depend on whether an issue is socially or politically convenient?

Faith, Rights, and the Court’s Role

The Sabarimala case sits at the uneasy intersection of faith and fundamental rights. The Court’s attempt to resolve this tension was always going to be contentious. But the answer to difficult judgments cannot be to limit who gets to question entrenched practices.

If anything, such cases underline the importance of an open constitutional forum where competing claims can be tested.

Conclusion

The Centre’s suggestion may be framed as a call for judicial discipline, but its implications run deeper. Abolishing PIL would mark a significant shift in India’s constitutional landscape—from an expansive, rights-oriented approach to a more restrictive, gatekept model of justice.

The real question, then, is not whether PIL has flaws—it undoubtedly does. The question is whether those flaws justify dismantling one of the few mechanisms that allow the marginalized, the voiceless, and even the merely concerned citizen to knock on the doors of the Court.

In a constitutional democracy, access is not a technicality. It is the foundation.