At the heart of both situations is one uncomfortable truth: the executive doesn’t like being told what to do, especially not by unelected judges.

he Constitution is a compact. Power is distributed. The judiciary doesn’t govern and the executive doesn’t adjudicate. That’s the theory. The practice, as we’re seeing today in both India and the United States, is messier.

Two Vice-Presidents — India’s Jagdeep Dhankhar and America’s JD Vance — have taken on their respective judiciaries, not with subtlety but with full-throated public attack. In doing so, they have brought a long-simmering institutional friction to the surface. This isn’t just another round of power play. It’s a warning shot.

India’s VP Dhankhar is unhappy with the Supreme Court. He says it’s acting like a “super Parliament” by issuing timelines to the President for deciding on state Bills. In his view, judges are overstepping their mandate. They interpret the law, they don’t issue executive deadlines.

Speaking to Rajya Sabha interns, he lamented that only the President takes an oath to “defend” the Constitution — others, including judges, merely promise to “abide” by it. For him, that difference matters. It shapes who can tell whom what to do. He didn’t stop there. He accused the judiciary of operating without accountability — no FIRs in corruption cases involving judges, no asset disclosures and unlimited use of Article 142 to issue sweeping directions. He called Article 142 a “nuclear missile against democratic forces.” The message was clear: Courts have gone too far, and it is time for Parliament to push back.

Dhankhar’s frustration stems from a broader narrative — one where the judiciary is often seen stepping into a vacuum left by a gridlocked or dominant Parliament. But when courts start filling gaps left by the executive, the executive doesn’t like it. And Dhankhar, a lawyer-turned-legislator turned VP, has taken it upon himself to push back.

On the other hand, US Vice-President JD Vance had a public meltdown over a court order that embarrassed the Trump administration. A federal appeals court blasted the government for its “shocking” failure to bring back Kilmar Abrego Garcia, a wrongly deported father detained in El Salvador’s prison, CECOT.

The court’s opinion, written by Reagan-appointee Judge J Harvie Wilkinson, didn’t mince words. He accused the administration of acting without due process, ignoring court orders and flirting with lawlessness. He even invoked Eisenhower’s example from the desegregation era to show what real executive fidelity to the courts looks like.

Vance didn’t like that. He took to social media, fuming that someone with a “valid deportation order” shouldn’t be in the US, despite the government itself admitting that the deportation was a mistake. His comments fit a pattern — Trump-era officials showing disdain for judges who stand in their way, mocking rulings and talking about impeachment of “activist” judges.

These aren’t isolated incidents. They reveal a pattern of institutional confrontation that’s getting sharper.

In India, Dhankhar’s criticism is part of a larger narrative that accuses the judiciary of being unelected and unaccountable, yet wielding vast power. The executive resents the court stepping into legislative and administrative matters — from electoral reforms to gubernatorial delays.

In the US, the judiciary is facing outright defiance. Courts have ordered the government to act. The government has shrugged. Abrego Garcia remains in El Salvador despite a SC ruling. Instead of compliance, we’ve heard insults — from calling judges “radical lunatics” to dismissing court directions as political games.

At the heart of both situations is one uncomfortable truth: the executive doesn’t like being told what to do, especially not by unelected judges. In both countries, the courts are not staying silent.

India’s SC has, by and large, chosen the route of reasoned restraint. It speaks through its judgments, sometimes scathing, but always measured. Its message: where Parliament fails, we must step in. Not because we want to rule, but because someone has to uphold the Constitution.

In the US, the judiciary is more direct. Judge Wilkinson’s opinion reads less like a judgment and more like a philosophical defence of constitutional governance. He warns of “anarchy” if the executive keeps ignoring court orders. He reminds readers that due process is not optional — even for someone accused of being a gang member. Even when elections give the executive a strong mandate, it doesn’t mean the Constitution takes a holiday.

Judge Wilkenson rules, “This is a losing proposition all around. The Judiciary will lose much from the constant intimations of its illegitimacy, to which by dent of custom and detachment we can only sparingly reply. The Executive will lose much from a public perception of its lawlessness and all of its attendant contagions. The Executive may succeed for a time in weakening the courts, but over time history will script the tragic gap between what was and all that might have been, and law in time will sign its epitaph….”

Thus, courts are not claiming perfection. But they are asserting their role — as guardians of the law, not servants of political convenience.

In India, Dhankhar has hinted that constitutional amendments may be necessary. Article 145(3), which requires Constitution Bench rulings on substantial constitutional questions, was drafted when the court had only eight judges. Today, with 30-plus, Dhankhar argues the threshold needs to be revisited.

The idea of revisiting Article 142 — so often used by courts to do “complete justice” — is also gaining traction among those in power. There may be attempts to clip its wings.

In the US, reform debates are less about amending the Constitution and more about judicial ethics, term limits and court expansion. But the deeper issue is executive accountability. If court orders can be ignored without consequence, then any talk of reform becomes moot.

This isn’t just elite squabbling between institutions. This is about the nature of democracy itself. If the executive can dodge accountability — by calling judges names, ignoring orders or complaining about interference — then the balance of power collapses. If courts overstep consistently — by becoming de facto legislators — they risk losing their legitimacy.

It’s a delicate dance. But it needs both partners.

In both India and the US, the judiciary has become the last resort for many. Citizens turn to courts when government machinery fails, Parliament is gridlocked or basic rights are under threat. This burden is not one that courts always welcome — but it is one they often bear.

Democracy is not a tug-of-war for dominance. It is a relay — where each branch has its leg to run. When the baton is dropped, everyone loses.

Dhankhar wants to rein in judicial power. Vance wants to lash out at judges who push back. But both must remember — when the judiciary retreats too far, history shows us what fills the vacuum. And it’s rarely democratic.

The people expect more. Not perfect judges. Not infallible executives. Just a system that works — and stays within its bounds. Before the tug becomes a tear.