In a laudable and long-overdue move, the Rajasthan High Court has declared that princely titles such as 'Maharaja' or 'Rajkumar' have no legal status in democratic India. The court underscored that the abolition of privy purses and royal entitlements in 1971 marked a definitive end to monarchical privileges. This is, indeed, a progressive order.
Yet a paradox persists in our courts - from the lowest to the apex - in the continued practice of addressing judges as "My Lord" and "Your Lordship". On this count, too, the Rajasthan High Court had earlier shown the way.
In July 2019, the court requested lawyers to refrain from using "My Lord" or "Your Lordship", suggesting alternatives such as "Sir" or "Shrimanji" to align with the principle of equality.
Despite this, the use of "My Lord" continues across many courts, including the Supreme Court. Some judges have expressed discomfort with these colonial expressions, but the practice endures.
The dissonance exposes the hierarchical mindset still embedded within the Indian legal system. While symbolic use of royal titles by erstwhile aristocrats is deemed offensive, similar linguistic relics thrive within the judiciary itself.
A Progressive Order
The Rajasthan High Court's latest order stemmed from a petition concerning the use of royal titles in public documents. Justice Mahendra Kumar Goyal directed descendants of the former Jaipur royal family to drop such prefixes or risk having their 24-year-old case dismissed, setting October 13 as the final deadline.
The court rightly ruled that titles like 'Maharaja' or 'Rajkumar' carry no legal validity following the 26th Constitutional Amendment, which abolished privy purses. The judgment emphasised that such titles are incompatible with the democratic ethos of the Republic of India, where all citizens are equal before the law.
At the time of Independence in 1947, there were roughly 565 princely states, and their integration into the Indian Union was a complex process. Legal disputes over the legacy of princely privileges have persisted ever since.
In 2022, the Jaipur bench of the Rajasthan High Court held that the use of salutations and titles such as 'Raja', 'Nawab', and 'Rajkumar' in constitutional courts, tribunals, and public offices was prohibited under Articles 14, 18 and 363A of the Constitution.
The present ruling, therefore, aligns squarely with constitutional morality. It reinforces the principle that status based on birth or lineage has no place in a democracy. The decision chips away at the remnants of feudalism that still manifest, often symbolically, in Indian society - between former royals and their subjects, landlords and land tillers.
Why "My Lord"?
While courts have rightly rejected symbols of royal hierarchy among citizens, they have yet to confront the hierarchy deeply ingrained within their own institutions - most visibly reflected in the language of address inherited from colonial times.
The Indian legal system, modelled on the British framework, continues to carry forward many colonial hangovers. One of the most obvious remnants is the convention of addressing judges as "My Lord", "Your Lordship", or "Your Honour". Though no law mandates these forms, they persist - particularly in High Courts and the Supreme Court.
In 2006, the Bar Council of India amended the Advocates Practice Rules, directing lawyers to address judges simply as "Sir". Yet the reform remains largely ignored. Many lawyers continue to use the old expressions out of "respect" or "professional conditioning".
This practice reflects a culture of reverence that places judges on a pedestal far above ordinary citizens. In a democracy, respect for institutions and individuals must arise from conduct and competence - not from archaic titles that imply superiority.
Colonial Legacy and Judicial Exclusiveness
The judiciary is often perceived - rightly or wrongly - as remote, hierarchical, and detached from the realities of common people. Retaining colonial honorifics only reinforces that image.
It perpetuates the perception that the judiciary is an elite club rather than a service pillar designed to uphold constitutional rights. Titles such as "Lordship" evoke rank and opulence, not service or accountability. The courts may condemn symbolic royalty among citizens, but they continue to sustain their own brand of exclusivity within the courtroom.
Feudal titles such as 'Rai Bahadur' and 'Rai Sahab' have long been consigned to history. Yet judges and former royals alike remain ensconced in structures of power and privilege - perpetuating a subtle, pseudo-feudal order.
The Need for Reform
A genuine commitment to democratic values demands that the judiciary not only deliver progressive judgments, as in the Rajasthan case, but also turn the mirror inward. Many long-overdue reforms are needed to dismantle the colonial mindset and institutional elitism that persist in our legal system.
As the courts increasingly see a generation of Gen Z lawyers and litigants enter their halls, they must modernise their modes of communication. The rigid and antiquated language of the courtroom risks alienating the very public it serves.
This is not merely a matter of semantics or optics. It is about democratising the courtroom - transforming it into a space where ordinary people feel respected and heard, not intimidated by rituals that echo a bygone age.
(The author is Contributing Editor, NDTV)
Disclaimer: These are the personal opinions of the author
