“Life is unfair if you are famous,” says Preity Zinta, her trademark dimple presumably hidden by a sudden sob. She wasn’t referring to rumours that her beau Ness Wadia had beaten up carpenters and masons for making too much noise; what the actress was talking about was dear, dear Sallu. Or Salman Khan, as we know him. This is what she had to say:

“Salman is one of the nicest guys I know. I don’t know why the whole world is after his life… There are thousands of people who do far worse things, but why is he made a target? Only because he’s a star? Why are you making an example out of Salman Khan? You’ve made him pay too much for what he’s done and he’s not done that much.”

Zinta isn’t the first person to take up cudgels on behalf of Khan. Obviously the man has very loyal friends who believe that he is “one of the nicest guys” they know. We, on the other hand, with our noses pressed against the glass, don’t know about his ‘niceness’. All we know is what we read. And this is what we read:

His Aishwarya Rai bashing, rumoured at first, later confirmed by a dignified, but brutalised Rai herself. Nice guys beat up their girlfriends?

His chinkara bashing. Everyone knows how our hero went on shikar and shot a few of them in spite of well-known prohibitory orders. Nice guys shoot endangered species?

His pavement-dweller bashing. He drove fast and furious, lost control of his SUV, rammed into a pavement, killed a watchmen and injured several others. Nice guys run over people?

Perhaps, we need to redefine ‘niceness’. Or perhaps we need to go into a philosophical discussion on the Jekyll and Hyde nature of most human beings. Possibly we need to do both. But, whatever we do, it’s not likely that we will agree with Preity’s lament that “Life is unfair, especially if you are famous.” In real life, it’s actually the other way — if you are famous, you can get away with murder, sometimes literally so. Puru Raj Kumar, the actor’s son, ran over pavement dwellers, killing several of them, but spent no time in jail. Admiral Nanda’s son ran over a number of policemen and again got away without any punishment. Sanjay Dutt seems to have got off with a lighter charge than his partners in crime (they were ordinary men). Navjot Sidhu has found political support; and which ordinary person in a severe road-rage assault case gets that? Then there are the killers of Jessica Lal…

The law, in theory, considers everyone to be equal. In practice, the rich and famous are considerably more equal. They hire the most expensive (and tricky) lawyers; have friends in high places who get police to botch up investigations; they buy witnesses or, failing that, intimidate them. There are, sadly, several ways to cheat justice, and our rich and famous don’t miss too many tricks.

The ‘niceness’ also comes to the rescue of the rich and famous. It’s well established that no one is completely black so murderers or crooks will also have friends and relatives who, given the chance, will vouch for their softer, gentler side. But who will give them the chance? But the Dutts and Khans will have reams and reams devoted to their noble characters.

Assuming that the various strategies mentioned have not scuttled the case altogether, does all this hoopla affect the final verdict? With a jury system, the possibility is very real but even a solitary judge, keeping to himself to retain his objectivity, wouldn’t be human if he didn’t read newspapers and watch television and feel more kindly inclined to the celebrity accused.

All this is part and parcel of a democracy, with its necessarily untrammeled media and a celebrity trial will get massive coverage. It’s also in the nature of a developing society that influence-peddling will be used to subvert the course of justice. These are the reasons why our judiciary needs to be more interventionist rather than less so. That higher courts need to pull up lower courts when justice gets derailed, as in the Priyadarshini Mattoo, or in the Jessica Lal case.

And this is the reason why politicians, whose only interest is to protect themselves, are being extremely short-sighted in getting into a confrontation with the judiciary on its ‘interventionist’ role. They should welcome the role as a way of getting rid of the worst elements in their ranks without having to do so themselves (which political compulsions often make impossible).

This tussle between vested interests and the system of justice will continue for quite a while. Which is why, when the system actually does catch a Big Fish, it’s important to make an example of him. Whatever his Preity friends may think or say.