Between tradition and transformation: The great debate over shifting Guwahati High Court

Pallab Bhattacharyya

(Pallab Bhattacharyya is a former director-general of police, Special Branch and erstwhile Chairman, APSC. Views expressed by him is personal. He can be reached at pallab1959@hotmail.com)

The proposal to shift the Guwahati High Court from its historic precincts in central Guwahati to a new site at Rangmahal in North Guwahati and its inauguration on 11th January 2026 by the Hon’ble CJI have sparked one of the most intense institutional debates the Northeast has witnessed in recent years. More than a question of bricks and mortar, the issue goes to the heart of how justice is accessed, how institutions evolve, and how democratic consultation is balanced with administrative decision-making.

At one level, the case for relocation is rooted in undeniable practical constraints. The existing High Court complex, steeped in history and symbolism, is struggling under the weight of expanding judicial responsibilities. Judges, lawyers, litigants, and staff operate in an environment marked by space shortages, parking chaos, and limited scope for future expansion. Over the decades, incremental additions have been made, but the constraints of a dense urban setting have left little room for comprehensive modernization. Against this backdrop, the idea of a large, integrated judicial campus appears not only logical but also necessary. The proposed Rangmahal site, spread over more than a hundred bighas, promises the kind of spatial freedom that contemporary judicial administration demands. Modern courtrooms, digital infrastructure, adequate chambers for advocates, proper parking, and facilities that meet the needs of women lawyers, young professionals, and senior members of the Bar are all part of the vision articulated by the authorities.

There is also a broader developmental logic at play. The shift is closely tied to Guwahati’s evolving urban planning priorities, particularly the ambitious riverfront development along the Brahmaputra. Relocating a major institutional occupant from prime riverfront land is seen by the state as a way to unlock urban renewal while simultaneously creating a judicial complex that can serve the region for decades to come. Supporters argue that congestion in the city core will ease, that North Guwahati will receive a developmental boost, and that the High Court will finally have an infrastructure befitting its stature as a principal court serving multiple northeastern states.

Yet, if the promise of the new campus represents the future, the resistance it has generated reflects deep-rooted concerns anchored in the present. The most vocal opposition has come from the Gauhati High Court Bar Association, whose members overwhelmingly voted against the relocation. Their resistance is not framed merely as a professional inconvenience but as a principled stand on access to justice. Distance is the first and most tangible worry. Rangmahal lies far from the current judicial hub, and Guwahati lacks robust public transport systems such as metro rail or reliable rapid transit. For advocates who appear in multiple courts in a single day, for litigants who travel from distant districts, and for elderly or economically weaker citizens, the added distance translates into real costs—of time, money, and effort. Justice, the Bar argues, must not become geographically remote.

Equally troubling for opponents is the fear of fragmentation. The strength of the current judicial ecosystem lies in its compactness. High courts, district courts, tribunals, lawyers’ chambers, government offices, and ancillary services function in close proximity, allowing for efficiency and coordination. The proposed shift, as outlined in the document, does not clearly guarantee that subordinate courts and tribunals will move alongside the High Court. If the High Court alone is relocated, the legal process risks being stretched across locations, leading to delays, duplication of effort, and increased expense. For a system already grappling with pendency, any move that could slow down the wheels of justice is viewed with apprehension.

Beyond logistics lies a more complex legal question. The document highlights the relevance of statutory provisions governing the seat of the Gauhati High Court. Section 31 of the North-Eastern Areas (Reorganisation) Act, 1971, fixes the principal seat of the High Court at Guwahati while allowing for benches elsewhere. Critics argue that shifting the principal seat may require parliamentary intervention rather than administrative or executive action alone. This raises the specter of constitutional litigation, with potential challenges questioning the legality of the move. The possibility of prolonged legal battles adds another layer of uncertainty to an already contentious issue.

The social and professional fallout has also been significant. Protests, hunger strikes, and a boycott call against the foundation stone-laying ceremony underscore the depth of feeling within the legal fraternity. It is worth mentioning that the dissent has sometimes spilled into confrontation, further straining relations between the Bench, the Bar, and the government. Such polarization is unfortunate for an institution that relies on mutual respect and cooperation for its effective functioning. At the same time, it reflects the seriousness with which lawyers view their role as stakeholders in the justice delivery system.

Still, it would be simplistic to frame the debate as a binary clash between progress and preservation. The strengths and weaknesses of the proposal coexist, and both deserve acknowledgment. The new complex, if executed as envisioned, could address chronic infrastructural deficiencies, enhance the working conditions of judges and lawyers, and integrate technology more effectively into court processes. Over time, improved infrastructure could translate into faster hearings, better case management, and a more dignified experience for litigants. Development in North Guwahati could also lead to improved connectivity, housing, and commercial services, gradually reducing the very access concerns that are now foregrounded.

Conversely, the concerns raised by the Bar serve as a crucial reminder that justice is not delivered in abstraction. Courts are public institutions, and their location, accessibility, and integration with the community matter as much as architectural grandeur. Ignoring these concerns risks alienating those who form the backbone of the justice system and, more importantly, the citizens it serves. Much of the opposition stems not from hostility to modernization but from the manner and pace of decision-making and from the absence of a articulated, inclusive transition plan.

The path forward, therefore, lies not in confrontation but in course correction and confidence-building. A phased relocation strategy, clear timelines for shifting subordinate courts, concrete commitments on transport infrastructure, and affordable chambers for advocates could significantly soften resistance. Transparent dialogue between the judiciary, the government, and the Bar is essential to reconcile statutory requirements with practical necessities. If legal ambiguities exist, they should be addressed proactively through appropriate legislative or judicial clarification rather than left to fester into prolonged disputes.

Ultimately, the debate over shifting the Gauhati High Court is emblematic of a larger national challenge: how to modernize institutions without distancing them from the people. Change, especially when it touches venerable institutions, is bound to provoke unease. But change, when guided by empathy, legality, and consultation, can also strengthen trust rather than erode it. If the promise of a modern judicial township is matched by a genuine commitment to access, inclusivity, and constitutional propriety, the proposed shift could yet become a model of balanced reform. In that convergence of tradition and transformation lies an opportunity—for the High Court not merely to change its address but to reaffirm its role as a living, responsive pillar of justice for the Northeast, confidently stepping into the future without losing sight of those it exists to serve.