"JUSTICE, being destroyed," Manu wrote in his famous smriti, "will destroy; being preserved, it will preserve; therefore, it must never be violated." The words of that great Hindu lawgiver of yore came back to me when I read the extraordinary story of the Metropolitan Magistrate in Ahmedabad who, in return for an inducement reported to be of Rs. 40,000, issued bailable arrest warrants against individuals of whose identities he had no clue, but who turned out to be the President of India, the Chief Justice of India, a sitting judge of the Supreme Court and the former President of the Supreme Court Bar Association. It was not that the not-so-learned magistrate had anything against these individuals: it was simply that, for the right price, he was prepared to issue a warrant against anyone.

"Our judges are as honest as other men, and not more so," Thomas Jefferson remarked of his country's judiciary in 1820, and the same holds true anywhere in the world. It is difficult for judges to be immune from the contagion of corruption that has infected politicians, businessmen and ordinary citizens, and so the Ahmedabad magistrate's action is much a commentary on our society, the society from which he has emerged, as it is upon himself. Ordinary citizens who have found themselves obliged to pay petty officials to receive services to which they were entitled, and even more so innocent people who have found themselves at the wrong end of decisions their enemies have procured against them, were not surprised by what happened in Ahmedabad. The case was egregious only because the warrants targeted such prominent people; if the Zee-TV journalists who "stung" the magistrate had chosen instead to harass rivals who did not enjoy such prominence, they could have done real harm, rather than merely generate a sensational story. Unlike the President and the Chief Justice of India, an ordinary citizen would have had to suffer the indignity of the warrant being executed, and incur considerable expense and inconvenience, including posting bail, travelling to Ahmedabad and perhaps bribing the magistrate again, before he could clear his name. The "sting" points, therefore, to a fundamental flaw in our entire system of justice.

"Judicial corruption, arrogance, indifference (and) insensitivity is a malaise that is deep-rooted throughout India," says Navkesh Batra, an energetic young Bangalore-based advocate who has drafted a "concerned citizens' charter" on the subject and submitted it to the President. Batra raises a number of cogent questions, some going to the fundamentals of our judicial system. A number of them relate to legal issues that may not be of general interest to readers of this column, including pointed queries about the personal and professional conduct of judges. But some raise basic issues that every citizen of India should be concerned about. Why is it so easy for a judge to issue a bailable warrant for arrest, before any investigation has been conducted into the charges against the accused? Shouldn't people be presumed innocent, and only in the rarest of cases arrested pending investigation? Why shouldn't all judicial proceedings be made public? (Batra even suggests they be videographed, with tapes sold to any interested citizen at a nominal cost). Why are so many cases allowed to drag on for so long? Justice delayed, the old saw goes, is justice denied; the overflowing dockets of so many of our country's courts suggests that justice is being denied to Indians daily.

The sad thing is that, till recently, the Judiciary was seen by the citizenry at large as the guardian of our public morals, an institution relatively untainted by the dross that had already disfigured our political world and parts of officialdom. Our courts were antediluvian, inefficient and hidebound, with tradition and precedent enjoying a greater priority than speed or innovation, but at least, most people thought, they eventually delivered justice. Incidents like that involving the Ahmedabad magistrate do more than expose an individual's wrongdoing; they undermine the confidence in the system of justice without which no society can survive.

The Zee-TV sting has also occurred at a time when "shining India" can ill afford such a public stain on its legal system. In today's globalising world, while the country seeks to attract foreign investment in its economy, the fact that the rule of law prevails in India is a vital selling point. Investors need to know their money is safe, and that is being poured into a system in which the sanctity of contracts is respected, where legal obligations are honoured and an impartial Judiciary decides expeditiously upon every breach. India's legal standards are every bit as much an asset to the country in the era of globalisation as the technological savvy of its computer engineers. The moment foreigners are convinced that these standards have fallen — or even worse, that the infusion of the right amount of dollars can sway a decision away from the merits of the case — our country is doomed as an investment destination.

The case for judicial reform has never been clearer, or more urgent.

Manu had it right more than 2,000 years ago: if we want to preserve and protect our country, we must preserve and protect our system of justice. To succeed in the 21st Century, we must ensure that the standards the Judiciary aspires to attain are the very best we as a society can hope to be. Otherwise, as the ancient sage warned us, justice destroyed could destroy us all.