The CJI's restraint and the media’s reckoning

ON a Monday morning, an act of madness breached the quiet dignity of the Supreme Court. A 71-year-old lawyer, Rakesh Kishore, hurled an object at the Chief Justice of India BR Gavai. The projectile missed, but the insult did not. I was in that courtroom. I did not see the act itself, only the sudden stir, the hush that followed, and the CJI's calm voice: "Don't get distracted. We are not distracted. These things do not affect me."

That response defined the day. There was no panic, no outburst, no order to have the man dragged away. The CJI continued to work, unruffled. Within seconds, the rhythm of proceedings resumed. It felt as if the institution, embodied in its pater familias, refused to be shaken.

That composure was constitutional philosophy in action. The CJI's deliberate lack of reaction became the foundation of his decision not to press charges or initiate contempt. In that context, restraint was not leniency; it was majesty. By treating the episode as beneath response, the CJI affirmed that dignity is not lost through insult, but through insecurity.

The attacker did not deserve such grace. Inside court, he mumbled that his act was "intended for Gavai alone." Outside, before cameras, his tone changed. He suddenly alleged that Sanatana Dharma had been insulted. The shift from personal pique to ideological posturing revealed the truth. This was not conviction but opportunism. Inside the court, he was an offender. Outside, in the theatre of social media, he styled himself a crusader.

Interviews, statements and talk-show appearances began. Some TV anchors painted him as a misunderstood rebel. The man turned into content. Click by click, his infamy metastasised into influence.

This is the real danger. When outrage turns profitable, civility becomes costly. The judiciary, bound by decorum, cannot compete in that marketplace.

Till that point, the CJI's restraint drew admiration. But as the offender continued to speak, as social-media clips began to glorify him, the Bench and the Bar stirred. Justice Ujjal Bhuyan called the act "an affront to the institution." The Attorney General for India, R Venkataramani, acting on requests from the Bar, granted consent to initiate criminal-contempt proceedings against Rakesh Kishore — a rare and serious step.

Supreme Court Bar Association president Vikas Singh, along with Solicitor General Tushar Mehta, mentioned the matter before the Bench of Justice Surya Kant and Justice Joymalya Bagchi, seeking an early listing. Singh went further. He asked the Bench for a John Doe order — an injunction against social media posts glorifying the attack. The concern went beyond one man's misconduct. A wider ecosystem of provocation was emerging, where violence against judges could become an algorithm for fame.

Justice Surya Kant responded calmly. "Hon'ble CJI has been extremely magnanimous… that shows the institution is not affected by these kinds of incidents." He wondered whether reopening the matter might give fresh oxygen to publicity seekers. Justice Bagchi agreed, asking if new proceedings would "revive and give a fillip to all these publicity-hungry elements."

Their worry was understandable. Every judicial action, however justified, risks becoming a hashtag battle. A contempt case could easily become Episode No. 2 of the same media drama.

Justice Bagchi said, "It is because of our behaviour in court that we survive and get the confidence of the people." The Solicitor General described the Chief Justice's forbearance as "a gesture of majesty." He warned, however, that continued social media valorisation was "a matter of institutional integrity." Vikas Singh agreed, noting that Kishore had shown no regret and kept "making statements glorifying his act."

The imagery grew more striking when Singh invoked faith. "Some people say Lord Vishnu will justify it. Lord Vishnu will never justify this kind of violence. It is an insult to Lord Vishnu also." Justice Kant agreed. "Our holy scriptures never condoned violence."

The moral argument was complete. Even in the language of the faith the offender claimed to defend, his act stood condemned.

Ultimately, the Bench decided to list the matter after the Diwali vacation.

Beyond this courtroom lies a larger unease. Judges across the system watch these events closely. They may draw a discouraging moral. If the CJI can face such an attack, and if institutions hesitate to respond for fear of feeding the media fire, disengagement sets in. The quiet extra-mile work that keeps the system functional becomes rarer. Institutions do not always collapse with a bang. They hollow out through small withdrawals of spirit. The relationship between the Bar and Bench, that compact of mutual trust, also begins to fray. The Bar's immediate condemnation and the Supreme Court Bar Association's decision to terminate the offender's membership sent a clear signal of professional self-correction. The Bar Council of India's suspension order reinforced that line.

The hardest test lies before the media. When coverage morphs into celebration, when exclusive interviews with offenders are promoted for views, journalists cease to be chroniclers of justice and become profiteers of chaos.

Social-media platforms, as Justice Bagchi noted, treat such incidents as money-spinning ventures. That is the heart of the problem. A man hurling a shoe at the CJI should be a figure of disgrace. If he becomes an algorithmic star instead, we are complicit in dismantling our own faith in law.

The need now is for a measured but firm institutional response. Not hysteria. Not witch-hunt. The judiciary and the Bar must issue a unified statement that such acts are beyond the pale. Freedom of expression does not extend to assault, and ideological pretexts cannot launder violence.

A John Doe injunction against glorifying such acts may raise questions about free speech. Yet, if narrowly tailored to restrain promotion rather than discussion, it can serve a limited but vital purpose. It can signal that contempt of court cannot be monetised. Sometimes the law must act not to punish the past, but to protect the future.

Ultimately, this episode is about the faith of a billion citizens who still believe that, whatever the chaos outside, justice inside the SC proceeds with reason and restraint. Every attack on a judge is an attack on that faith. Every indulgent click, share, or laugh that follows such an attack erodes it a little more. Institutions must build structural safeguards and social consensus that violence against judges is unacceptable.

The lesson of that Monday morning is twofold. First, the Chief Justice taught us the power of calm. Second, the aftermath reminds us that calm must not mean complacency. Let the offender face due process. Let the Bar remain vigilant. Let the media find its conscience again.

And for all our sakes, let us hope that the sooner the hype around this incident ends, the better it is.

Sanjay Hegde is a senior advocate at the Supreme Court.