Agencies on Trial, When the Credibility of India’s Investigative Institutions Is in the Dock
The Discharge of Arvind Kejriwal Is Not Just a Personal Reprieve—It Is a Pointed Reminder That the Criminal Justice System Cannot Be Reduced to a Political Instrument Without Cost
When a court rebukes India’s premier investigative agency as sharply as the Rouse Avenue court did last week, the verdict travels far beyond the fate of one politician. The discharge of AAP leader Arvind Kejriwal in the Delhi excise policy case is not merely a personal reprieve for a former chief minister. It is a pointed reminder that the criminal justice system cannot be reduced to a political instrument without cost to its own credibility.
The judgment lands at a moment of heightened scrutiny of India’s investigative agencies. For years, opposition parties have alleged that institutions like the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) and the Enforcement Directorate (ED) have been weaponised to target political rivals. The government has consistently denied these charges, insisting that agencies function independently and that no one is above the law. But when a trial court not only discharges a high-profile accused but also criticises the investigation’s methods and recommends departmental inquiry into the conduct of CBI officers, the denial becomes harder to sustain.
Kejriwal’s arrest in March 2024, weeks before the general election, was always going to be read through a political lens. As leader of the Aam Aadmi Party and the sitting chief minister of Delhi at the time, he was no minor figure. The CBI alleged that his government’s 2021 liquor policy was crafted to benefit select private players. The policy was scrapped amid controversy, and a corruption case followed, ensnaring senior leaders such as Manish Sisodia and Sanjay Singh.
Yet after nearly two years of investigation, arrest, denial of bail, and courtroom drama, the trial court concluded there was no overarching conspiracy and no demonstrable criminal intent. Even more striking was its criticism of the CBI’s methods—faulting it for building a narrative on conjecture and on statements of approvers rather than on evidence. The court went so far as to recommend a departmental inquiry into the conduct of CBI officers.
This is the part that should trouble anyone concerned with institutional integrity.
The Unique Position of Investigative Agencies
The CBI occupies a unique place in India’s governance architecture. It reports to the Union government but is expected to function as an independent investigative arm. Its credibility depends not only on securing convictions but on demonstrating procedural fairness. When courts begin to question the foundation of its investigations, the damage extends beyond a single case.
Unlike regular police forces that operate under state control, the CBI handles cases of national importance—complex financial crimes, corruption in high places, inter-state criminal networks. Its investigations often target powerful individuals, which makes procedural fairness all the more essential. If the agency is seen as a tool of the ruling party rather than an impartial investigator, its legitimacy collapses. And without legitimacy, it cannot function effectively, no matter how many resources it commands.
The Rouse Avenue court’s criticism strikes at the heart of this legitimacy. By pointing to conjecture rather than evidence, to approvers’ statements rather than demonstrable facts, the court has essentially said that the CBI built a case on sand. This is not a technical lapse that can be corrected with better paperwork. It is a fundamental failure of investigative method—a failure that suggests either incompetence or intent. Neither explanation reflects well on the agency.
The Political Context That Cannot Be Ignored
The political context cannot be wished away. The Bharatiya Janata Party, which governs at the Centre, has repeatedly denied using investigative agencies to target opposition leaders. However, a pattern of high-profile arrests of opposition figures—often timed around elections—has fuelled scepticism. The Kejriwal case will inevitably reinforce that perception, whether or not it reflects intent.
Consider the sequence. Kejriwal was arrested in March 2024, just weeks before the Lok Sabha elections. He was not merely a party leader but the chief minister of the national capital, a figure with national visibility. The timing meant that the arrest would dominate headlines through the election campaign, shaping public perception of both Kejriwal and his party. Whether this was the intention or merely coincidence, the effect was the same.
Other opposition leaders have faced similar timing. Rahul Gandhi was convicted in a defamation case and disqualified from Parliament in March 2023, again ahead of electoral contests. Hemant Soren, the Jharkhand chief minister, was arrested by the ED in January 2024. The list goes on. Each case has its own facts, its own legal merits, its own justifications. But the cumulative pattern creates a perception that is difficult to dispel.
None of this implies that elected officials should be shielded from scrutiny. On the contrary, robust investigation of corruption is essential in a democracy. Public office carries public trust, and betrayal of that trust must be met with consequences. But robustness is not the same as aggression. The rule of law requires evidence that can withstand judicial scrutiny, not headlines that can dominate a news cycle.
The Boundary Between Zeal and Overreach
In clearing Kejriwal and his colleagues, the court has done more than dispose of a prosecution. It has reasserted a boundary: investigative zeal must not outrun proof. If agencies overreach, they risk weakening the cases they seek to build—and erode public trust in the process.
This boundary is essential to the functioning of any criminal justice system. Investigators must be zealous; they must pursue leads, interrogate suspects, build cases. But zeal must be tempered by discipline—by the understanding that evidence must be gathered lawfully, that inferences must be supported by facts, that the presumption of innocence is not a technicality but a fundamental right.
The CBI, in this case, appears to have lost sight of that discipline. Building a case on conjecture is not zeal; it is speculation. Relying on approvers whose credibility is questionable is not evidence; it is hope. The court’s rebuke is a reminder that the end does not justify the means. A conviction obtained through improper means is not a victory for justice but a defeat for it.
The court’s recommendation of a departmental inquiry into the conduct of CBI officers takes this a step further. It suggests that the problem may not be isolated to this one case—that there may be patterns of behaviour, institutional failures, or individual misconduct that require examination. Whether the inquiry proceeds and what it finds will be closely watched.
The Real Defendant
The real defendant in this episode was not a former chief minister. It was the credibility of India’s investigative institutions. And that trial, unlike the excise policy, is far from over.
Institutional credibility is not built overnight, but it can be destroyed quickly. It depends on consistent performance, on demonstrated fairness, on the perception that the institution serves the law rather than the powerful. Each case that goes wrong, each court rebuke, each suggestion of political manipulation chips away at that credibility.
The challenge for India is to rebuild trust in agencies that have been damaged by controversies like this one. This requires more than denials and assurances. It requires structural reforms that insulate investigations from political pressure. It requires transparency about how cases are chosen and pursued. It requires accountability when things go wrong—not just recommendations for inquiries but actual consequences.
The government has a particular responsibility here. It appoints the heads of investigative agencies, controls their budgets, and receives their reports. It cannot claim that agency actions are independent while benefiting from their political effects. If the perception of weaponisation is to be dispelled, the government must demonstrate—through actions, not words—that it respects the boundary between politics and investigation.
The Opposition’s Responsibility
The opposition, too, has a responsibility. The temptation to paint every investigation as political vendetta, every arrest as conspiracy, is strong. But this reflex, however understandable, can also undermine institutional credibility. If every case is dismissed as motivated, then genuine cases of corruption may also be obscured.
The answer is not blanket condemnation but rigorous scrutiny. Opposition leaders should examine each case on its merits, demand evidence, hold agencies accountable. They should support reforms that strengthen institutional independence, even when those reforms do not directly benefit them. They should recognise that in the long run, strong institutions serve everyone—including those out of power.
This is difficult politics. It is easier to shout conspiracy than to engage with complex legal questions. It is more satisfying to denounce than to analyse. But the health of democracy depends on the willingness of all actors—government and opposition alike—to place institutional integrity above short-term advantage.
The Larger Lesson
The Kejriwal case offers a larger lesson for Indian democracy. Investigative agencies are powerful tools. They can uncover corruption, bring criminals to justice, and protect the public interest. But they can also be misused—to harass, to intimidate, to tilt the political playing field. When they are misused, the damage is not limited to their immediate targets. It extends to the entire system of justice, to public trust, to the very idea that the law applies equally to all.
The Rouse Avenue court’s judgment is a reminder that this damage is not abstract. It is visible in the waste of resources on cases that cannot be sustained. It is visible in the personal suffering of those caught in investigations that go nowhere. It is visible in the erosion of confidence that follows each court rebuke.
The real question is whether anyone is listening. Will the CBI take the court’s criticism seriously and reform its methods? Will the government reflect on how its actions are perceived and take steps to insulate investigations? Will the public demand accountability from all sides?
Or will the pattern continue—more arrests, more allegations, more court rebukes, more erosion of trust—until the institutions themselves are hollowed out?
The trial of India’s investigative agencies is far from over. The verdict in the Kejriwal case is one piece of evidence. What comes next will determine the final judgment.
Q&A: Unpacking the Kejriwal Case and Its Implications
Q1: What did the Rouse Avenue court decide in the Arvind Kejriwal case?
A: The trial court discharged Arvind Kejriwal in the Delhi excise policy case, concluding there was no overarching conspiracy and no demonstrable criminal intent. More significantly, the court criticised the CBI’s investigative methods, faulting the agency for building its narrative on conjecture and statements of approvers rather than on evidence. The court went so far as to recommend a departmental inquiry into the conduct of CBI officers involved in the case.
Q2: Why is the court’s criticism of the CBI significant beyond this single case?
A: The CBI occupies a unique position in India’s governance architecture as an agency that reports to the Union government but is expected to function independently. Its credibility depends not only on securing convictions but on demonstrating procedural fairness. When a court questions the foundation of its investigations—pointing to conjecture rather than evidence—it damages the agency’s legitimacy. This damage extends beyond the Kejriwal case to affect public trust in all investigations conducted by the agency.
Q3: What political context surrounds the timing of Kejriwal’s arrest?
A: Kejriwal was arrested in March 2024, weeks before the general election. As the sitting chief minister of Delhi and a prominent opposition leader, his arrest inevitably became a political event. The timing fuelled perceptions that investigative agencies were being used to target opposition figures ahead of electoral contests. While the government denies any political motivation, the pattern of high-profile opposition arrests around elections—including Rahul Gandhi, Hemant Soren, and others—has created a cumulative perception that is difficult to dispel.
Q4: What boundary did the court reassert through its judgment?
A: The court reasserted that investigative zeal must not outrun proof. Investigators must be zealous in pursuing leads and building cases, but that zeal must be tempered by discipline—evidence must be gathered lawfully, inferences must be supported by facts, and the presumption of innocence must be respected. Building a case on conjecture is not zeal but speculation. Relying on approvers of questionable credibility is not evidence but hope. The court reminded that the end does not justify the means.
Q5: Who was the “real defendant” in this episode, according to the analysis?
A: The real defendant was the credibility of India’s investigative institutions. The trial of these institutions—their independence, their fairness, their resistance to political pressure—is far from over. Each case that goes wrong, each court rebuke, each suggestion of political manipulation chips away at institutional credibility. Rebuilding this trust requires structural reforms to insulate investigations from political pressure, transparency in how cases are chosen, and accountability when things go wrong.
