There Is a Question The Supreme Court Must Answer. SASTRA University
When Is an Encroachment an Encroachment?
There is a question the Supreme Court must answer.
Not a political question.
Not a Tamil question.
Not a Brahmin question.
A very simple question about the rule of law:
If government land is government land, does the identity or purpose of the person occupying it change the law?
The SASTRA University land dispute has brought this question directly into public view.
The dispute concerns about 31.37 acres of government land in Thanjavur. The Madras High Court ordered eviction and said that government land is public land and that public rights must be protected. It also rejected the idea that an encroacher can claim alternative government land as an absolute right.
Then the matter reached the Supreme Court.
In January 2026, the Supreme Court stayed the eviction and asked the State to consider the university's representations, noting the educational function of the institution.
And on September 21, the Court went further in exploring whether Tamil Nadu could provide alternative land for the proposed open-air jail rather than remove the university from the disputed land.
The CJI made an important distinction: if the land were being used for a resort, shopping mall or commercial establishment, the Court indicated that the occupants would have been removed. But because the land is being used by a university for education, that fact was weighing with the Court.
That is precisely where the uncomfortable question begins.
Education is important.
Nobody should argue otherwise.
Students should not suddenly lose their classrooms.
Hostels should not be demolished without considering the consequences.
Thousands of students should not become collateral damage in a land dispute.
But there is another principle that is equally important:
Public land belongs to the public.
If somebody occupies public land without legal entitlement, the question cannot simply become:
"What useful thing are you doing on that land?"
Because that principle can become dangerous.
Tomorrow another institution may say:
"We are running a hospital."
Another may say:
"We are running a school."
Another may say:
"We are running a charitable institution."
Another may say:
"We are providing jobs."
Another may say:
"We are serving society."
All these activities may be socially useful.
But usefulness cannot automatically become ownership.
Otherwise the law becomes:
Encroachment + usefulness = accommodation.
And that is a dangerous formula.
What happens to the ordinary citizen?
Imagine a poor Tamil family occupying a piece of government land.
They build a small house.
Their children live there.
They study there.
They work there.
They have lived there for decades.
Then the government says:
"This is public land. You must leave."
The family cannot respond:
"But our children are studying."
The government may still have to follow rehabilitation laws, land rights, due process and applicable protections.
But nobody should create a general principle that long occupation plus a socially useful purpose automatically creates a right to public land.
So why should the principle become different when the occupant is a large institution?
That is the question.
Not:
Who is the institution?
Not:
Which caste does somebody belong to?
Not:
Who has powerful lawyers?
The question is:
What does the law actually say?
And here is where the Supreme Court must be extremely careful.
Judges have enormous constitutional power.
But judicial power is not personal property.
A judge cannot rewrite the law according to personal sympathy.
A judge cannot create one standard for a powerful institution and another standard for an ordinary citizen.
A judge cannot say:
"Encroachment is wrong."
And then create an exception so broad that the principle becomes meaningless.
If an exception is justified because of education, then the Court should clearly explain:
What is the legal principle?
What qualifies as an educational institution?
Does the same protection apply to every school and college?
Does it apply to private universities?
Does it apply to hospitals?
Does it apply to charitable organisations?
How long can an institution occupy public land?
Who pays when alternative land is provided?
Can the government recover the full economic value?
What happens if the institution expanded its occupation over time?
And most importantly:
Can the same remedy be demanded by the next encroacher?
These are not small questions.
They are questions about equality before law.
The caste question must also be handled carefully.
Some people are asking whether the treatment of SASTRA is connected to the caste background of people associated with the institution.
That is a serious allegation.
But serious allegations require serious evidence.
The fact that an institution is associated with members of a particular caste does not by itself prove that judges acted because of caste.
If someone wants to make that argument, they must produce evidence showing that caste identity influenced the judicial reasoning.
Otherwise we replace one injustice with another.
The stronger question is actually simpler:
Would exactly the same reasoning be applied if the institution had a completely different social, religious, caste or political identity?
That is the test.
Apply the same rule to everybody.
Then nobody has to guess the judge's intention.
Now compare this with the forest cases.
The contrast is what makes people uncomfortable.
In the Srivilliputhur-Megamalai Tiger Reserve matter, the Supreme Court records thousands of alleged encroachers occupying thousands of hectares of reserved forest land.
The Court recorded official figures of approximately 4,601 encroachers occupying 5,072.653 hectares in the Theni portion of the reserve.
The record also identified 118 serving or retired government employees among those listed as encroachers.
The Court directed strong and time-bound action against encroachments in protected forest areas.
That case is different.
Forest protection involves environmental statutes, wildlife protection, ecological restoration and the public interest in protected areas.
So it would be wrong to pretend that the two cases involve identical legal facts.
But there is still a legitimate public question:
Why does the law sometimes appear uncompromising when ordinary people are involved, yet suddenly become highly flexible when an established institution is involved?
If the answer is that the legal circumstances are different, explain those circumstances clearly.
If the answer is that education creates a legally relevant distinction, explain the limits of that distinction.
If the answer is that alternative land protects students while preserving public interest, explain why that remedy is legally available in this case.
People deserve to understand the reasoning.
A judge is not above the law.
This is the heart of the matter.
A Chief Justice is not above the Constitution.
A university is not above the law.
A government is not above the law.
A poor person is not below the law.
A rich person is not above the law.
A powerful institution is not above the law.
And a judge is not above the law.
That is the whole point of constitutional democracy.
The law must be bigger than the person applying it.
If the law says government land cannot be occupied without legal authority, then the exception must have a clear legal foundation.
If the law permits alternative arrangements in the public interest, then explain the principle and apply it consistently.
If education deserves special consideration, define exactly why.
Don't leave ordinary people wondering whether the law changes depending on who stands before the Court.
Tamil Nadu deserves answers, not slogans.
People angry about Cauvery.
People angry about NEET.
People angry about reservations.
People angry about fishermen.
People angry about environmental displacement.
People angry about government land.
People angry about judicial decisions.
They should not simply shout:
"Anti-Tamil judges!"
That accusation needs evidence.
The more powerful question is:
"Show us the principle. Show us the law. Show us that the same principle would apply to everyone."
That is a much harder question to escape.
Because democracy does not require us to worship courts.
And it does not require us to hate courts.
It requires citizens to ask questions.
Hard questions.
Respectful questions.
Uncomfortable questions.
Questions even judges must be able to answer.
Because the Supreme Court exists to protect the Constitution.
And the Constitution does not belong to judges.
It belongs to the people.
The day an ordinary citizen believes that justice depends on who occupies the land, who owns the institution, or who has influence, the credibility of the justice system itself begins to suffer.
So the demand should not be:
"Give us justice because we are Tamil."
It should be:
"Give every Indian the same law."
No caste privilege.
No political privilege.
No institutional privilege.
No judicial privilege.
One law. One standard. One Constitution.
That is the real test.
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