Fali Sam Nariman, the exceptional jurist and humanist, a colossus in the courts who helped secure many a landmark verdict in modern India, whose moral authority steered and even shaped the judiciary, passed away in his sleep at his home in New Delhi an hour after midnight Wednesday.
Nariman was 95.
The family issued a statement that the burial will be held February 22 at the Parsi Aramgah and a prayer meeting at the Parsi Anjuman in New Delhi at 4 pm the same day.
Nariman, perhaps among the last of a distinguished group of legal luminaries, including Nani Palkhivala, C K Daphtary, Ashok Desai, Homi Seervai and Soli Sorabji, was universally respected. He was unafraid of freely voicing his opinion on decisions taken by successive governments and Supreme Courts when he felt that they had crossed the line. He vigorously took up cudgels on behalf of freedom of speech and fundamental rights.
In his last book You Must Know your Constitution, published just four months ago, Nariman warned that governments with huge majorities led by populist leaders tend to slowly bend the written and unwritten rules which condition the correct functioning of a liberal democracy.
Nariman’s uncompromising rectitude first came to public attention when on June 26, 1975 he resigned his post as Additional Solicitor General hours after then Prime Minister Indira Gandhi had declared the Emergency. He was the only senior government law officer to do so.
During the Emergency, he developed a special bond with this newspaper and its late owner Ramnath Goenka, who lived under the constant threat of the closure of his newspaper chain with a vindictive Gandhi government filing dozens of cases all over the country.
At one point, Nariman suggested to Goenka that maybe “enough is enough’’ — and that he should find a way out — but Goenka was insistent and Nariman rose to stand by him, conjuring “out-of-the-box’’ legal defences for The Indian Express until the Emergency was finally lifted in March 1977.
The senior counsel would once again stand by the Express in 1980-84 when then Delhi Lt Governor Jagmohan sought to demolish a section of the Express building. His special relationship with The Indian Express continued throughout his life.
When Nariman felt strongly on an issue, he would often telephone me to inform that he would be writing on a particular matter since he felt strongly. My colleagues on the edit page often used me as a “messenger girl” when they sought the eminent jurist’s take on an issue.
Some months ago, I asked jokingly why I was used as the intermediary. Was it because we were fellow Parsis? He simply laughed and said, “Nonsense.”
He was unfailingly warm with a wonderful sense of humour. It came as a surprise, therefore, to discover that some of his most heavyweight clients and fellow lawyers were, in fact, so much in awe of him that they feltslightly intimidated and fearful in his presence.
He was said to have a short fuse and did not suffer fools gladly. His clients were also terrified of the little pug by his side during briefings. Despite being warned not to pat the dog, some injudiciously did so to their cost. The master was never apologetic over his pet’s behaviour.
Nariman joked that, in fact, he was a refugee in India. He grew up in then Burma since his father had settled in Rangoon to start a branch of the New India Insurance Company. When the Japanese declared war on the Allies in 1941, the Narimans had to hastily pack their belongings and embark on an arduous journey by foot from Mandalay to the Indian border. His conscientious father ensured that his office insurance files were taken along, even if most of the family’s personal luggage had to be left behind.
Despite being based in Burma, his schooling was in India, in Jesuit institutions, Bishop Cotton School, Shimla, and St Xavier’s College, Mumbai.
Years later, when he was the government counsel for Gujarat, Nariman was tasked with defending the construction of the Narmada dam against a PIL filed by Medha Patkar and others. Gujarat law officers were taken aback when one day he angrily and abruptly returned the brief to them saying he was extremely upset over reported violent incidents against Christian missionaries in the state.
Like most Parsi lawyers of his day, Nariman, after completing his legal degree from the Government Law College Mumbai, began his career in the chambers of the legendary, Sir Jamshed Kanga, though hisimmediate senior was Kharshedji Bhabha. He joked that he had “half a chair’’ in the crowded extended chamber. He was part of an earlier generation of lawyers largely from the Bombay High Court who judged the standing of an advocate not in terms of the fees charged but their contributions in shaping the law and legal craftsmanship.
Nariman, initially, specialised in corporate law and was lead counsel in several high-profile corporate battles, including the civil litigation against Union Carbide arising out of the 1984 Bhopal Gas tragedy. He would later acknowledge he made a mistake in accepting the brief.
The path-breaking cases in which he was involved, included the Golaknath case, TMA Pai Foundation case and Jayalalithaa’s disproportionate assets case. He fought on behalf of the Supreme Court Bar Association for the right of judges to be appointed only by judges, but conceded in later years that the collegium system had failed. However, he repeatedly flagged the need for the judiciary to be insulated from political pressure.
With his booming voice, clarity of mind and a large fund of riveting anecdotes to lace his arguments, Nariman was a star attraction in court. In later years, he was particularly focused on issues concerning freedom of expression, constitutional rights and upholding the country’s secular fabric. He was a prolific writer with a racy style and self-deprecating sense of humour. (He once acknowledged that law was not his first choice. His father wanted him to join the ICS, but he felt his grades were not good enough.)
His biography Before Memory Fades is a bestseller. Until the end, he kept himself busy. Even if his hearing was weak and his health frail, he remained in touch with all that was happening around him.
Over the years, he received numerous awards and accolades. He won the Padma Bhushan and Padma Vibhushan, he was nominated by the President in 1999 to the Rajya Sabha in the special quota for distinguished persons. He gave up his flourishing legal practice during his entire six-year tenure in Parliament.
He served for many years on the International Commission of Jurists and was its chairperson from 1995 to 1997. He headed the committee to examine how racial discrimination affected the awarding of death penalties in the USA, with the accused not provided with proper legal representation, nor a fair jury selection process.
Nariman is survived by his son, former Supreme Court Justice, Rohinton Nariman, whose proud father always acknowledged that his son was far more knowledgeable than he in the Zoroastrian scriptures; his daughter Anaheeta as well as his daughter-in-law Sanaya and grand-daughters.
When his wife, Bapsi Nariman, a masterchef of a cook and writer of many popular cook books, passed away in 2020, Nariman phoned me the next day to graciously thank and say that “Bapsi would have been delighted by her obit if she were still alive.’’
I can only hope that my tribute to Fali Uncle would meet his exacting standards if he were alive.