At home in the court

Sanjay Hegde

Senior Advocate, Supreme Court

THE passing of 95-year-old Fali Nariman marks the end of a constitutional eon. For the Indian legal world, he was Obi-Wan Kenobi, Albus Dumbledore and Gandalf the Grey rolled into one. Prime Ministers, Chief Justices, Editors-in-Chief, Chief Know-alls — all sought his legal services and valued his advice in law and in life. He could scare clients, solicitors and instructing counsel in conference and yet put their case in court so beautifully that it seemed obvious to them that right would be done unto their cause.

He became a lawyer in 1950, when the Constitution had just been born, and practised law till the last evening of his life as the Constitution was being hollowed out, despite his stout defence of its moral core. His wish to die in a secular India has probably been fulfilled. Whether a secular India will long survive his departure is a question that his successors will have to answer. He was a proud Parsi and a prouder Indian. In a speech at a book release, he said: “I have never felt that I lived in this country at the sufferance of the majority. I have been brought up to think and feel that the minorities together, with the majority community, are integral parts of India.”

As a member of a minuscule minority, he never tired of reminding the nation that its magnificent Constitution was written by the Constituent Assembly, 80 per cent of whose members were orthodox Hindus, with President Rajendra Prasad being the most orthodox of them. In his last years, he was increasingly worried about the nation’s drift towards majoritarianism. The sight of a saffron-robed Hindu monk ruling India’s most populous state was to him a portent of a non-secular India.

While the law was his life’s mission, he was much more than a successful court lawyer. He was often the moral core of constitutionalism in this country. When the Emergency was declared in June 1975, he resigned as the Additional Solicitor General of India. This was at a time when few people dissented and no one knew how long the dark era would last. In later years, he shaped the independence of the judiciary by leading the arguments in the judges’ appointments cases and the National Judicial Appointments Commission case, where he told the court: “My client is the independence of the judiciary.” He also served a term as a nominated member of the Rajya Sabha, where his pointed interventions and expert opinion were greatly valued by all members of the House.

He wrote frequently on matters of law and matters of the moment. His articles and books made the readers see things the way he wanted them to see it. His public speeches were carefully crafted and he did not riff extempore for a speaking engagement. He was a collector of ideas and phrases that he would store away in his memory or his notebooks, to bring out at an appropriate time. His reading was vast and ranged a variety of topics.

Thus, his speeches and articles were a glorious patchwork of carefully curated quotations and precedents worked into an orchestrated delivery in his stentorian voice. He linked all the stories and quotations into a magnificent whole with bridge passages of his own vivid imagery that illuminated any talk or argument he made. His written speeches were printed in a manner which when read aloud, had his high notes properly emphasised. For example: “Never forget that the Indian nation was born Great, and will always remain Great, Even though some of the people that inhabit it from time to time are NOT.”

He was a mentor and counsellor to many, who would turn to him for words of comfort and advice. Anyone who unburdened his troubles to Fali always went away with hope that things would improve after whatever advice he offered. Everyone who came to him for help, legal or otherwise, got something. It may not have been entirely what they wanted, but it was something that he could get or give and something that they could live with.

His conferences for matters in court were conducted on a huge book-strewn round table. As he listened to the deliberations, his mind working furiously. The essential arguments were quickly dictated on to a note of arguments that would be constantly thought over and revised till the moment of delivery. When he stood up in court, he was always listened to with the greatest of respect. Sometimes, judges had to restrain themselves from immediately ruling in his favour. Younger judges were advised by their more experienced brethren to dictate judgments in his matters after some time, when the magic of his advocacy had worn off a bit.

His burial at the Parsi cemetery near Khan Market in New Delhi was attended by a host of his pupils, who had grown up to be judges, senior advocates and advocates of repute. He was laid to rest near his wife of over 60 years, Bapsi Nariman. His son Justice Rohinton Nariman (retd), daughter Anaheeta, his grandchildren and great-grandchildren were all there. His long-time junior and disciple Subhash Sharma from Jammu remained faithful to the last. The grave closest to him was occupied by his old chamber-mate, one-time rival and later friend Soli Sorabjee. About Soli, Fali had written in his autobiography Before Memory Fades: “… for a long while we were rivals, later un-friendly rivals, but now, in the evening of our lives, we are friends.” I hope that the two friends and constitutional warriors are watching from their graves an India that remains true to its Constitution.

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