The ‘new’ Justitia and reimagining justice

The new statue
| Photo Credit: PTI

The addition of the open-eyed Justitia in the Supreme Court of India has led to public debate. The ‘new’ six-foot white statue is a sari-clad ornamented goddess-like figure without a blindfold, holding scales in her right hand and a copy of the Constitution of India in her left hand. It signified, said then Chief Justice of India (CJI) D.Y. Chandrachud, who commissioned the statue in October 2024, that “Law is not blind; it sees everyone equally”. This is, historically speaking, puzzling since the Bombay High Court has an open-eyed Justitia statue along with a Statue of Mercy — the open-eyed justice is as much part of colonial iconography as the blindfolded figure of justice.

Explained | What does the new ‘lady justice’ statue signify?

History and the images

The former CJI does not tell us that allegorical images of Justitia, both with and/or without a blindfold, have existed in ancient Roman, Greek and Egyptian cultures. Martin Jay in ‘Must Justice be Blind?’ (1999) argues that iconography historians tell us that “allegorical images of justice did not always cover the eyes of goddess Justitia”. During the first and second centuries, Roman coins dedicated to justice and impartiality depicted Justitia as clear-sighted considering the merits of the cases before her.

It was at the end of the 15th century, evidenced through a 1494 wood engraving of a Fool tying the eyes of Justice, that a blindfold began to be placed over the goddess’s eyes, and led to a plethora of interpretations throughout Europe. Initially, it implied that Justice was “robbed of her ability to get things straight, wield her sword effectively, or see what is balanced on her scales”. Away from this negative satirical connotation, the blindfold, by 1530, transformed into a positive emblem of equality before the law and impartiality. Like the scales, the blindfold began to imply neutrality rather than helplessness, and resisting the ‘lust of the eyes’ became a virtue to achieve the dispassionate distance necessary to render impartial verdicts.

The mural in the Court

Apart from the complicated history of Justitia, it is important to ask whether the interpretation now attributed to an open-eyed justice, or to use the ableist metaphor of ‘seeing’ by the lady justice, really relates to equality, impartiality, and transparency. What is the rationale behind the lady being presented as a Hindu goddess and the statue in white colour? The inspiration is perhaps the mural that is placed between the two entrances from the judges’ wing while entering the CJI’s court. This mural is not open for public viewing. This writer was privy to it during his research on courtroom iconography, in 2015-16. It is made up of porcelain marble tiles in shades of white, yellow and green, depicting Gandhi, the Dhamma Chakra and the goddess of justice. In the mural, the goddess is placed on the right side, facing left, wearing a crown, clad in a sari and jewellery, holding scales, and appearing as a devi (goddess), very much like this statue. She holds the scales at the level of her face, with her gaze at the balance — the contemplative gaze is somewhat reminiscent of Johannes Vermeer’s painting of Justitia.

The mural with an open-eyed Justitia, with a book near her waist, found theological interpretation in the former Supreme Court judge M. Jagannadha Rao’s work who interpreted it as “the book of Dharma Shastra signifying the offer of total knowledge to one and all”, in the edited volume, Supreme but not Infallible: Essays in Honour of the Supreme Court of India (2000). In ‘Interpreting the Scales of Justice’ (2017), this writer interpreted the book besides the sari-clad Justitia as signifying the Indian Constitution, rather than the Dharma Shastra, which arguably restricted access to knowledge to certain caste/gender groups (Dwija men) and denied it to ‘others’. The placement of new statues of B.R. Ambedkar earlier and lady Justitia now, and having a new emblem for the Supreme Court, ought to be contextualised in relation to caste, gender and religion-based inclusions and exclusions in recent times; especially when questions are asked of the higher judiciary on diversity and equality, attempts are being made to improve its public image. It is not surprising then that the open-eyed Justitia statue is interpreted in several ways on social media like “justice will now be given by seeing one’s caste, religious identity and political ideology”. Such an interpretation of the personification of justice has its roots in the public desire for accessibility to higher courts by all — not only as litigants but also as lawyers and judges, as well as access to justice itself.

Do not cause newer forms of discrimination

Controversies around statues are not new. Even the history of the ‘mother and child’ statue in the Court suggests so, as this writer has demonstrated in his 2017 work mentioned above. But there needs to be a careful inclusive approach to how we want law and justice to be represented in a visual art form. Should the idea of justice itself be re-envisioned? Should justice be iconographically presented in the form of a protest, resistance, lived experience, and struggle? Should it act as a transformative legal culture signifying feminist, anti-caste, secular, equality, judicial independence — virtues also enshrined in the basic structure doctrine? Should art and aesthetics, including statues, be utilised to creatively challenge the non-independence and hegemonisation of the judiciary by a select few, and to open discussions on improving its public perception? Decolonisation must not become a driver either of a recurrence of older precolonial or newer postcolonial forms of social discriminations and state violences.

Shailesh Kumar is a lecturer in law at Royal Holloway, University of London and a Commonwealth Scholar with research interest in the interdisciplinary study of law and the humanities