What makes the judgment significant—but also contentious—is not merely its procedural holding, but the manner in which the Court treated the petitioner’s evidence. While the ruling rests on established precedents such as Abdul Kuddus v. Union of India (2019), it marks a notable shift from earlier Supreme Court positions that accepted minor discrepancies in names, dates, or residence as tolerable when weighed against the totality of credible documentary evidence.

As citizenship in Assam continues to be adjudicated through overlapping forums—FTs, NRC processes, and constitutional courts—this judgment bears important implications for legal strategy, evidentiary framing, and the fate of thousands accused of being ‘illegal immigrants.’ The case becomes a useful lens through which we may compare evolving judicial approaches to documentary evidence and procedural fairness.

The Supreme Court’s judgment in Rofiqul Hoque v. Union of India

Factual matrix

Rofiqul Hoque, the appellant, was declared a foreigner by the Foreigners Tribunal (FT), Jorhat, Assam, on March 4, 2017 under a reference by the Border Police. The basis: he had allegedly entered India illegally after the cut-off date of March 25, 1971. He contested this decision before the Gauhati High Court, which upheld the FT’s findings. In 2018, however, the petitioner’s name appeared in the draft NRC. He filed an SLP before the Supreme Court, arguing that such inclusion rebutted the FT’s conclusion.

Submissions by the parties

Appellant’s contentions:

• Inclusion in the draft NRC should have overriding effect and demonstrate that the petitioner is not a foreigner.
• The FT and High Court adopted a “pedantic” approach, rejecting evidence on grounds of minor discrepancies in age, name spellings, and address.
• Change in village domicile does not imply change in citizenship.

Respondents (Union of India and Assam government):

• Under Section 9 of the Foreigners Act, the burden of proof is on the proceedee.
• NRC inclusion is neither determinative nor binding upon the FT or the State.
• Discrepancies in documentary evidence raised substantial doubts about the petitioner’s claimed lineage.

Legal issues framed by the SC

1. Whether the findings of the FT and the High Court suffered from legal infirmity or ignored credible evidence?
2. Whether inclusion of the appellant’s name in the draft NRC can nullify a prior declaration by an FT?

Court’s Findings: Scrutinising evidence, procedure, and statutory framework

The Court’s reasoning rests on two central legal foundations:

• The burden of proof placed on the alleged foreigner under Section 9 of the Foreigners Act, 1946.
• The non-binding nature of NRC inclusion for persons already declared foreigners, as per the Citizenship Rules, 2003, and the precedent in Abdul Kuddus v. Union of India.

On the merits of evidence and the burden under Section 9: The appellant relied on a combination of official records to establish his Indian citizenship through ancestry:

• Voter lists from 1966, 1970, 1993, 2010, and 2016 purportedly featuring his grandfather (Joynal Abdin), father (Majut Ali), and mother (Sopia Bibi).
• A duplicate school certificate issued in 2014, showing his date of birth as 20.07.1996 and naming his parents.
• An income tax PAN card issued post-2017, and inclusion in the 2018 draft NRC.

Despite this, both the Tribunal and the Gauhati High Court held the petitioner failed to discharge the burden placed on him by Section 9. The Supreme Court upheld this view, stressing that the proceedee must prove:

1. Presence of ancestors in India before March 25, 1971, and
2. His linkage to those ancestors through credible, consistent documents.

The Supreme Court found the petitioner’s case wanting on the following counts:

1. Village discrepancy:

• • The appellant claimed descent from Joynal Abdin of Daobhangi village, Dhubri district.
  • Voter records showed Joynal Abdin in Kekurchar village, Sivasagar district, with no affidavit or evidence explaining this change.
  • There was no plea or corroborative document to establish a migration history, which would have reconciled the apparent inconsistency.

“The Tribunal as well as the High Court have considered these documents and have found that those earlier voter lists relate to a person located in some other village than the one of which the appellant claimed to be a resident. In such circumstances, the appellant ought to have stated in his affidavit, or demonstrated by some documentary evidence, that his ancestors had migrated from that village to the other village where the appellant was reported to be residing, but, according to the Tribunal, there was no such claim by the appellant in his affidavit. Therefore, the Tribunal discarded the probative value of those voter list entries.” (Para 15)

2. Name and lineage doubts:

• • The Court questioned whether Joynal Abdin in 1966 and 1993 voter lists was the same person. Ages did not align; e.g., he was listed as 38 in 1966 and 70 in 1993 (should have been ~65).
  • The father’s name appeared inconsistently, and the mother’s name (Sopia Bibi) was absent in crucial documents.
  • The voter lists also showed unnatural age jumps, e.g., Majut Ali’s age was 30 in 1993 but 45 in 2010—missing consistency.

“Additionally, the High Court noticed that as per the affidavit of the appellant, Joynal Abdin Seikh was a resident of Daobhangi village whereas in the voter list of 1993, Joynal Abdin was shown as a resident of Kekurchar village, which is altogether different from the village of which the appellant claims to be a resident. Further, the High Court noticed that in the 1993 voters list, the name of the mother of the appellant, namely, Sopia Bibi, is conspicuous by its absence.” [Para 5 (vi)]

“As regards the voters list of 2010, the High Court observed that here Majut Ali’s age is shown as 45 years whereas in 1993 list it was 30 years therefore, in the 2010 voters list, it ought to have been 47 years. Besides above, there was a noticeable change in respect of the place of residence because in 1993 list, the village of domicile is shown as Kekurchar whereas in 2010 voter list it is Daobhangi.” [Para 5 (vii)]

3. School certificate deficiency:

• • The certificate was a duplicate, issued ten years after the appellant allegedly left school.
  • No explanation for delay in issuance or production.
  • Crucially, the headmaster was not called to prove its contents, failing the test under the Evidence Act.
  • Hence, the document’s probative value was discounted.

“Interestingly, the school leaving certificate on which heavy reliance was placed by the appellant was also doubted as there appeared no reason for it to have been obtained 10 years after passing from the institution. Moreover, the headmaster of the school was not called for to prove the authenticity of the certificate of which duplicate was produced.” (Para 15)

The Court emphasised that these deficiencies went beyond mere clerical errors. They showed a lack of effort by the appellant to resolve material inconsistencies through affidavit, oral evidence, or additional linkage documents.

On NRC inclusion and its legal consequence: On the question of whether the appellant’s inclusion in the 2018 draft NRC nullified the earlier FT declaration, the Court delivered an unequivocal “No.”

It relied heavily on:

• Rule 4A and Paragraph 3(2) of the Citizenship Rules, 2003, and
• The three-judge bench decision in Abdul Kuddus v. Union of India, (2019) 6 SCC 604.

As noted by the SC in its order, the Citizenship Rules clearly state that:

“…the names of persons who have been declared as illegal migrants or foreigners by the competent authority shall not be included in the consolidated list.” (Para 23)

In para 25–27, the Court emphasised:

• The Registering Authority under NRC has no power to override a quasi-judicial order of a Foreigners Tribunal.
• Even if a person’s name is erroneously included, that inclusion is legally ineffective unless the FT order is reversed by a higher court.
• The “competent authority” under the Citizenship Rules refers specifically to the Foreigners Tribunal, not administrative officers.

Therefore, even though the appellant’s name appeared in the draft NRC, the Supreme Court held that:

“In view of the decision of this Court in Abdul Kuddus (supra), firstly, consequent to the declaration by the Tribunal that appellant is a foreigner, the name of the appellant could not have been included in the draft NRC and, secondly, even if it has been included, it would not annul the declaration made by the Tribunal.” (Para 27)

This closed the door on the appellant’s attempt to claim citizenship via NRC inclusion.

4. Final holding and consequences

After a detailed evaluation of both factual inconsistencies and legal standards, the Supreme Court held as follows:

• The FT’s findings, as affirmed by the Gauhati High Court, were not legally flawed, arbitrary, or perverse.
• The appellant’s inclusion in the draft NRC had no legal effect, given his prior declaration as a foreigner.
• The appellant had failed to prove his Indian citizenship, either by establishing consistent lineage or through rebutting the FT declaration.
• The interim release order granted in 2019 (based on NRC inclusion) was vacated.

“In light of the discussion above, and our conclusions on the issues referred to above, we are of the view that there is no merit in this appeal. The same is, accordingly, dismissed. The release order which was passed at an interim stage stands discharged. Consequently, the appellant shall be treated and dealt with as a foreigner.” (Para 30)

Notably, it is imperative to highlight here that the Court refrained from commenting on whether the NRC itself was legally flawed or reliable. Its approach was purely technical: an FT order, once passed, takes precedence unless overturned by a superior court—not by administrative inclusion.

The complete judgment may be read below.

Previous judicial treatment of documentary discrepancies

While the Supreme Court in Rofiqul Hoque adopted a stringent approach, other judgments have demonstrated a more nuanced understanding of documentary discrepancies, recognising the challenges faced by individuals in rural and marginalized communities.

1. Anuwar Hussain @ Md. Anowar Hussain v. Union of India & Ors. (Gauhati High Court, 2014)

In this case, the petitioner was declared a foreigner by the Foreigners Tribunal due to discrepancies in his father’s name across various documents. The Tribunal noted variations such as “Samed Ali,” “Abdul Samed,” and “Samed.” The Gauhati High Court bench led by Justice Ujjal Bhuyan had observed that such variations are common in rural areas, particularly among the Muslim community, and held that these discrepancies were not significant enough to draw an adverse inference regarding the petitioner’s citizenship.

“In so far discrepancy in the name of petitioner’s father is concerned, it is a common phenomenon in rural areas, more particularly among people of Muslim community, to have more than one name or there being variation in the name such as in the name of the petitioner’s father. The discrepancy in the name as noticed- Samed Ali, Abdul Samed and Samed, is not so great as to draw adverse inference regarding the citizenship of the petitioner. On the ground of there being such discrepancy in the name of petitioner’s father, petitioner could not have been declared as a foreigner.” (Para 11)

The Court also addressed discrepancies in the petitioner’s age, noting that minor differences in age declarations are expected in rural settings and should not be the sole basis for declaring someone a foreigner.

2. Mamata Bhowmik v. Union of India & Ors. (Gauhati High Court, 2019)

The petitioner was declared a foreigner by the Foreigners Tribunal, which rejected a certified copy of the 1966 voter list on the grounds that it lacked a physical signature and did not comply with Section 65B of the Indian Evidence Act. The Gauhati High Court found that the Tribunal erred in its assessment, noting that the document was digitally signed and legally valid under the Information Technology Act, 2000.

“The certified copy also contains a further note that the certificate is digitally signed and, therefore, needs no physical signature… the certificate is legally valid under the Information Technology Act, 2000.” (Para 3)

The Court emphasized the need for Tribunals to consider the authenticity and legal validity of documents, even when presented in digital form, and set aside the Tribunal’s order.

3. Sirajul Hoque v. State of Assam (Supreme Court of India, 2019)

In this case, the appellant was declared a foreigner by the Foreigners Tribunal due to discrepancies in the spelling of his grandfather’s name and differences in the villages listed in various documents. The Supreme Court bench of Justices Rohinton Nariman and Vineet Saran, however, found that the appellant had successfully established his lineage through consistent documentation of his father’s and grandfather’s identities, despite minor spelling variations. The Court held that such minor discrepancies did not undermine the credibility of the appellant’s claim to citizenship.

“Having gone through these documents, we are of the view that it is not possible to state that Kematullah is not the same despite being named Kefatullah in some of the documents. This being so, the grandfather’s identity, father’s identity etc. has been established successfully by the appellant. Further, the mere fact that the father may later have gone to another village is no reason to doubt this document.” (Para 4)

The Supreme Court set aside the judgments of the High Court and the Foreigners Tribunal, thereby affirming the appellant’s Indian citizenship.

4. Mohammad Iddrish Ali v. Union of India & Ors. (Gauhati High Court, 2020)

In this case, the petitioner was declared a foreigner despite submitting multiple documents, including voter lists from 1965 and 1970 bearing his father’s and uncle’s names. The Tribunal disregarded these documents, citing the absence of the petitioner’s name in the 1975 voter list. The Gauhati High Court bench of Justices Manojit Bhuyan and Parthivjyoti Saikia found that the Tribunal committed an error in appreciating the evidence and emphasized that strict rules of evidence are not applicable in Tribunal proceedings.

“Reverting to the case in hand, the strict rules of evidence are not applicable in a tribunal. Nothing is required to be proved beyond all reasonable doubt.”

The Court set aside the Tribunal’s order and directed a fresh opinion, highlighting the importance of a holistic assessment of evidence in such cases.

5. Jagat Bahadur Chetri v. Union of India & Ors. (Gauhati High Court, 2023)

An 85-year-old resident of Assam was declared a foreigner based on a reference by an election official, despite evidence of his birth in Assam in 1937 and decades of service as a civilian employee in the military. The Gauhati High Court criticised the “non-application of mind” by the election official and set aside the Tribunal’s ruling, ordering compensation for the petitioner.

“If Jagat Bahadur Chetri was born in the year 1937 and his place of birth is Dibrugarh and there is no material that subsequent to his birth, he migrated to the specified territory and thereafter re-entered the State of Assam subsequent to 25.03.1971, we are of the view that it was an absolute non-application of mind on the part of the ERO of 52 Dispur Legislative Assembly Constituency to have referred the petitioner to the Foreigners Tribunal for an opinion as to whether the petitioner Jagat Bahadur Chetri is a foreigner who entered the State of Assam subsequent to 25.03.1971 from the specified territory.” (Para 4)

“It appears that the enquiring officer had not done its duty in the proper earnest and there can be no reason why the petitioner Jatat Bahadur Chetri would refuse to divulge the information that he was serving in Indian Army since 1963.” (Para 5)

“However, for causing inconvenience to the petitioner without any reasonable cause and without any application of mind, a cost of Rs. 10, 000/- (rupees ten thousand) is imposed on the ERO of 52 Dispur Legislative Assembly Constituency to be paid to the petitioner.” (Para 7)

This case highlights the importance of due diligence and the consideration of an individual’s lifelong ties to the country in citizenship determinations.

6.  Rahim Ali @ Abdur Rahim v. State of Assam & Ors. (Supreme Court of India, 2024)

In this case, the appellant was declared a foreigner based on minor discrepancies in the spelling of names and dates in official documents. The Supreme Court bench of Justices Vikram Nath and Ahsanuddin Amanullah observed that such variations are common and often arise due to differences in language, pronunciation, and clerical errors. The Court emphasized that these minor inconsistencies should not be the sole basis for declaring someone a foreigner.

“As far as the discrepancy (ies) in dates and spellings are concerned, we are of the view that the same are minor in nature. Variation in name spelling is not a foreign phenomenon in preparation of the Electoral Roll. Further, the Electoral Roll has no acceptance in the eyes of law insofar as proof of date of birth is concerned. A casual entry by the enumerators when noting and entering the name(s) and dates of birth(s) as also the address(es) of the person(s) while making preparatory surveys for the purposes of preparing the Electoral Rolls cannot visit the appellant with dire consequences. Moreover, in our country, sometimes a title is prefixed or suffixed to a name such that the same person may be known also by one or two aliases. The Tribunal seems to have been totally oblivious to all this.” (Para 41)

“The State of Assam, as per the Census 2011, boasts of 72.19% literacy rate, with females at 66.27% and males at 77.85%. However, this was not the case during the 1960s or even 1970s. Not just in Assam but in many States, it is seen that names of people, even on important government documents can have and do have varied spellings depending on them being in English or Hindi or Bangla or Assamese or any other language, for that matter. Moreover, names of persons which are written either by the persons preparing the Voters List or by the personnel making entries into different Government records, the spelling of the name, based upon its pronunciation, may take on slight variations. It is not uncommon throughout India that different spellings may be written in the regional/vernacular language and in English. Such/same person will have a differently spelt name in English and the local language. This is more pronounced where due to specific pronunciation habits or styles there can be different spellings for the same name in different languages.” (Para 42)

“In the considered opinion of this Court, the same would further buttress the appellant’s claim, that not being in the wrong, and being an ignorant person, he, truthfully and faithfully produced the official records as they were in his possession. We do not see any attempt by the appellant to get his official records prepared meticulously without any discrepancy. The conduct of an illegal migrant would not be so casual.” (Para 43)

The Court also highlighted that the authorities must have a material basis for initiating proceedings under the Foreigners Act and that arbitrary or baseless suspicions cannot justify such actions. Consequently, the Court quashed the orders of the Foreigners Tribunal and the High Court, restoring the appellant’s citizenship. (Detailed analysis of the same judgment may be read here.)

Tightening the evidentiary threshold?

The Supreme Court’s judgment in Rofiqul Hoque v. Union of India underscores a marked shift toward evidentiary stringency in citizenship adjudication under the Foreigners Act, 1946. By upholding the findings of the Foreigners Tribunal and the Gauhati High Court, the Court reasserted two core principles: (1) that the burden of proof lies squarely on the proceedee under Section 9, and (2) that inclusion in the NRC—particularly a draft list—does not override a quasi-judicial declaration of foreign status.

What makes this decision legally significant is its departure from earlier jurisprudence that acknowledged the lived realities of individuals from rural and marginalized communities—realities that often produce inconsistencies in names, ages, and addresses in official records. Judgments such as Sirajul Hoque, Md. Rahim Ali, and Md. Anuwar Hussain adopted a more flexible, contextual reading of documentary discrepancies. In contrast, Rofiqul Hoque takes a formalistic approach, requiring strict evidentiary coherence even when documentary irregularities might stem from administrative lapses rather than wilful deceit.

This evolving judicial posture has far-reaching implications. It raises the evidentiary threshold for proving citizenship, heightens the risk of wrongful exclusion, and underscores the primacy of FT decisions over NRC data, regardless of administrative errors or procedural opacity in the latter. Going forward, both legal practitioners and claimants must place greater emphasis on reconciling all documentary inconsistencies through affidavits, oral testimony, and corroborative records.

In essence, Rofiqul Hoque reinforces the authority of Foreigners Tribunals and sets a cautionary precedent: in the current legal regime, technical lapses—even those reasonably explained—may carry irrevocable consequences for individuals seeking to prove their citizenship in Assam.

Image Courtesy: scobserver.in

Related:

From Detention to Deportation: The mass deportations and detention crisis at Assam’s Matia centre

Restoring Citizenship, Rebuilding Lives: CJP continues its journey in Assam

Declared Foreigner, buried Indian: The tragic death of Abdul Matleb in Assam’s detention camp

SC: Only 10 deported, 33 of 63 contest foreigner status from the Matia Transit Camp, Assam

The post Supreme Court and the Rofiqul Hoque Judgment: A new chapter in Assam’s citizenship jurisprudence on discrepancies in documentary evidence appeared first on SabrangIndia.

At the heart of the case lies a disturbing sequence of events: a young tribal man taken from his own wedding ceremony by police officers, subjected to alleged third-degree torture, and found dead in custody; followed by delayed and diluted FIR registration, an ambiguous post-mortem, and retaliatory criminal cases against the sole eyewitness. The State’s response—marked by delays, lack of arrests, and superficial disciplinary action—led the Court to conclude that the investigation was neither fair nor credible.

The judgment is a strong reaffirmation of the constitutional requirement for independent, impartial, and transparent investigation, especially when State agents are themselves under suspicion. It underscores the Supreme Court’s commitment to upholding due process, witness protection, and accountability in custodial deaths, while reinforcing that the rule of law cannot be compromised by institutional camaraderie.

Factual background

The case emerges from a gruesome incident of custodial torture that took place in July 2024. Deva Pardhi, a tribal man from Guna district, Madhya Pradesh, was preparing for his wedding. On July 13, while the Haldi ceremony was underway, a team of around 30–40 police personnel stormed the premises, assaulting family members—including women and children—and arresting Deva along with his uncle Gangaram Pardhi.

They were taken not to the new police station equipped with CCTV cameras but to an older facility, allegedly to avoid surveillance. At the station, both men were subjected to severe third-degree torture. According to Gangaram’s account, Deva was:

• Beaten with ropes,
• Doused with hot water, petrol, salt, and chili powder,
• Suspended upside down from the ceiling,
• Suffocated with water.

Eventually, after three hours of this treatment, Deva collapsed and was moved to a hospital where he was declared dead on arrival.

Delayed and diluted FIR: The family of the deceased attempted to register an FIR immediately, but were obstructed by the local police. Only after a Magisterial Inquiry was completed, was FIR No. 341/2024 registered—eight days later. Even then, crucially, the charge of culpable homicide amounting to murder (Section 302 IPC) was excluded, and less serious offences under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023 (BNS) were invoked:

• Section 105: Culpable homicide not amounting to murder,
• Section 115(2): Voluntarily causing hurt,
• Section 3(5): Joint criminal liability,
• Section 120: Voluntarily causing hurt to extort confession,
• Section 3(2)(v) of the SC/ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act.

Despite these charges, no arrest was made in eight months—a fact that became central to the Court’s conclusion of deliberate institutional shielding.

Eyewitness targeted: Gangaram Pardhi, the only eyewitness to Deva’s custodial torture and death, was illegally detained beyond 24 hours, remanded to custody, and then systematically implicated in at least four more criminal cases:

• FIR 247/2024 (Dharnawada),
• FIR 489/2023 (Dharnawada),
• FIR 434/2023 (Jaora),
• FIR 87/2023 (Chippabarod).

His bail plea was rejected by the Madhya Pradesh High Court, which, however, acknowledged the threat perception he faced and ordered his transfer from Guna District Jail to Gwalior Central Jail.

Medical evidence muzzled by influence: Post-mortem results revealed multiple abrasions and contusions. However, instead of ascribing cause of death to physical injuries, doctors later opined that Deva died of vasovagal shock leading to heart failure. The Court cast serious doubt on the credibility of this conclusion, noting that:

• The Medical Board failed to opine on cause of death despite clear injuries,
• The delay and change in findings suggested direct police interference.

This aspect was described as a symptom of a much broader institutional malaise, wherein even forensic medical systems are suborned by police influence.

Judicial censure from the bench during the April 29 hearing

The Supreme Court’s hearing on April 29, 2025, preceding the final judgment, was marked by a series of extraordinarily candid and stern oral observations by Justice Sandeep Mehta, laying bare the judicial frustration with the State’s apparent unwillingness to take decisive action against the police officials implicated in Deva Pardhi’s custodial death.

When Additional Solicitor General Aishwarya Bhati, representing the State of Madhya Pradesh, informed the bench that the two key officers had merely been transferred to line duty, Justice Mehta expressed serious displeasure, questioning the sincerity and seriousness of the State’s response. As per the report of LiveLaw, he criticised the administrative tokenism in lieu of criminal accountability, calling it a blatant instance of institutional favouritism.

““Great response to a case of custodial death! What better example of favouritism, shielding your own officers. Would you like yourself to be appointed as amicus or appointed on behalf of CBI to take over the case? Rather than representing the State police. Ridiculous and inhumane approach. Absolutely. Man dies in your custody and it takes you 10 months to lay hands on your own officers. Why did you send them to line duty? For what reason? Their complicity has been found true, why they are not been arrested?”

Justice Mehta went on to question the competence of the investigating authorities, emphasising that the State had failed to arrest even a single person despite the lapse of ten months since the incident. According to LiveLaw, he demanded to know under what provision of law the FIR had been registered and implied that the State’s conduct reflected a gross abdication of investigative duty.

“For the 10 months time you have not been able to arrest a single person. This reflects on your competence. What is the provision of law under which the FIR has been registered?”

When the State sought to justify the absence of arrests by citing that substances had been found in Deva’s body, Justice Mehta dismissed this as a crude attempt at a cover-up, further underlining the systemic efforts to derail the case.

“Can there be a better cover-up act?” Justice Mehta was noted as saying as per LiveLaw.

The Court also took strong exception to the postmortem report, which recorded no conclusive cause of death despite multiple injuries on Deva’s body. The bench described it as inexplicable and suspect, given the visible signs of torture. Justice Mehta lamented the persistent impunity for custodial violence, asserting that repeated judicial pronouncements had done little to deter such brutality.

“A 25-year-old boy killed by custodial violence and not a single injury on the body seen by the medical jurist? You say he died of a heart attack? Bruises all over the body. Sad state of affairs in this country that vice of custodial violence continues unabated despite repeated judgments by this Court, and offenders roam free. Horrendous. And you try to eliminate the sole witness.”

Witness vulnerability and the court’s reluctance to endanger Gangaram: The hearing also saw Advocate Payoshi Roy, appearing for Gangaram Pardhi, urge the Court to consider his bail application. She pointed out that Gangaram, the sole eyewitness to Deva’s death, continued to face relentless harassment by the police and was being falsely implicated in one case after another.

In response, Justice Mehta made a poignant and chilling observation, suggesting that while judicial custody was undesirable, it may ironically offer better protection than release, given the serious risk to Gangaram’s life if he were freed. His words starkly acknowledged the reality of extrajudicial killings and witness silencing:

“Presently, being in custody is better for your own health and safety. When he comes out, he is run over by a lorry and you won’t even know. It will be an accident and you will lose the single witness. Instance [like this] are not uncommon…We have even rejected bail petitions on grounds that there is a risk of the life of accused himself. It’s always better. You will see instances that the moment the accused came out on bail, he was eliminated by the other side. Don’t take that risk. Leave it to the Court,” Justice Mehta remarked, as per LiveLaw.

These remarks underscored the extraordinary vulnerability of witnesses in cases involving State actors, and served to justify the later directions issued in the final judgment for assigning responsibility to senior State officials for Gangaram’s safety.

Judicial assessment and findings in the judgment

The findings of the Court are among the most comprehensive judicial evaluations of systemic custodial abuse and the complicity of the State machinery in recent times. The Court made the following key observations:

1. Systemic failure to register and investigate FIR promptly

The Court noted that the victim’s family attempted to lodge an FIR immediately after the custodial death occurred. However, the local police actively prevented them from doing so, an action the Court regarded as a deliberate suppression of lawful process.

Only after the Magisterial Inquiry concluded was FIR No. 341 of 2024 registered. Even then, it included Section 105 (culpable homicide not amounting to murder) rather than Section 302 (murder), thereby diluting the gravity of the offence.

This delay and selective invocation of penal provisions formed a crucial part of the Court’s reasoning that the investigation was neither independent nor fair. The Court termed this an engineered evasion of accountability.

“The victims’ family tried to lodge the FIR immediately after the incident, but the local police officials prevented them from doing so. It is only after the magisterial inquiry was conducted that the FIR came to be registered wherein the offence of culpable homicide amounting to murder was omitted.” (Para 29)

2. Absolute Inaction for Eight Months: No arrests despite direct incrimination

The Supreme Court expressed deep concern that even after eight months, not a single police officer had been arrested despite the fact that the Magisterial Inquiry, medical evidence, and witness statements pointed toward clear custodial torture leading to death.

“Nearly eight months have passed since the FIR was registered but till date, not a single accused has been arrested.” (Para 29)

This inaction, according to the Court, was not accidental but a result of institutional camaraderie—a refusal to act against colleagues, even in the face of overwhelming evidence. The Court emphasised that the deliberate delay had the effect of sabotaging the prosecution and undermining public confidence in the legal system.

“These circumstances give rise to a clear inference that the investigation by the local police is not being carried out in a fair and transparent manner and there is an imminent possibility of the prosecution being subjugated by the accused if the investigation is left in the hands of the State police, who are apparently shielding their own fellow policemen owing to the camaraderie.” (Para 30)

3. Suppression and tampering of medical evidence

The post-mortem report, although documenting multiple contusions, abrasions, and visible injuries, made no conclusive finding on the cause of death. Instead, the medical board reserved opinion, and later attributed the death to “vasovagal shock leading to heart attack.”

The Supreme Court found this explanation medically implausible given the physical injuries and the timeline of events, and strongly suspected that the Medical Board was pressurised by the accused police officers. The doctors’ refusal to comment on the cause of death, in the Court’s view, reflected coercive interference by the police.

“The fact that the police officials have influenced the investigation right from the beginning is amply borne out from the circumstance that even the doctors, who conducted autopsy of the dead body of Deva Pardhi, seem to have been pressurised/influenced.” (Para 28)

“We are constrained to observe that despite taking note of the large number of the injuries on the body of Deva Pardhi, the victim of custodial torture, the members of the Medical Board which conducted post-mortem on his body, failed to express any opinion regarding the cause of his death. This omission seems to be deliberate rather unintentional and appears to be a direct result of influence being exercised by the local police officials.” (Para 29)

This finding is especially significant as it suggests institutional rot beyond the police force, implicating the medical system’s integrity in custodial death investigations.

4. Clear Credibility Crisis: Invoking Nemo Judex in Causa Sua

The Court invoked the foundational principle of natural justice — nemo judex in causa sua — which means that no one can be a judge in his own cause.

Given that the very individuals being investigated belonged to the same force tasked with investigating, the Court declared that any semblance of impartiality was fatally compromised. This foundational breach of investigative independence, in the Court’s eyes, necessitated transfer to the CBI.

“We are, therefore, convinced that this is a classic case warranting invocation of the Latin maxim ‘nemo judex in causa sua’ which means that ‘no one should be a judge in his own cause’. The allegation of causing custodial death of Deva Pardhi is against the local police officials of Myana Police Station.” (Para 28)

5. Credible eyewitness testimony consistently ignored

The Court gave great evidentiary weight to the statement of Gangaram Pardhi, who not only witnessed the torture of Deva Pardhi, but also tried to intervene, and was himself assaulted and illegally detained.

Despite being a direct, material eyewitness, Gangaram’s testimony had not triggered arrests, nor had it been treated with legal seriousness. Instead, he was subjected to retaliatory incarceration and implicated in multiple subsequent cases.

“The involvement of the police officials in the custodial death of Deva Pardhi is clearly borne out from the statement of the sole eye-witness Gangaram Pardhi and stands further corroborated during the magisterial inquiry.” (Para 29)

6. Retaliatory framing and judicial recognition of witness intimidation

The Supreme Court unambiguously held that multiple FIRs filed against Gangaram Pardhi after the custodial death incident were deliberate acts meant to silence and neutralise him.

The Court recognised a pattern of conduct: entangling him in successive, allegedly concocted cases to keep him detained indefinitely, cripple his morale, and deter him from deposing against the police.

“So far as the aspect of grant of bail to Gangaram Pardhi is concerned, we may observe that the underlying facts narrated supra clearly indicate that a deliberate attempt is being made to somehow or the other, implicate Gangaram Pardhi in multiple cases, one after the other, so as to keep him behind bars indefinitely, and break his spirit and the spirit of his family members thereby ensuring that the said person being the star witness of the custodial death of Deva Pardhi is not only demoralized but is also prevented from deposing against the errant police officials.” (Para 33)

Directions anchored in constitutional and criminal law doctrine

Based on these findings, the Supreme Court issued firm and time-bound directions:

• The investigation was immediately transferred to the CBI.
• CBI was ordered to register a Regular Case (RC) and complete investigation within 90 days of arrest.
• The accused police officers were to be arrested within one month.
• Protection of Gangaram under the Witness Protection Scheme was mandated.
• Liberty was granted to apply for bail in all cases, with the High Court directed to consider this Court’s findings.
• The Principal Secretary (Home) and Director General of Police, Madhya Pradesh were personally made responsible for ensuring Gangaram’s safety.

Significance and implications

This judgment is significant because it:

• Affirms Supreme Court’s role as a constitutional guardian under Articles 21 and 32 when State failure threatens liberty and life.
• Condemns the culture of custodial impunity, reinforcing that institutional allegiance cannot supersede justice.
• Clarifies that witness protection is not a procedural courtesy but a substantive right, especially when the witness is up against State forces.
• Lays down that transfer of investigation is not an affront to State police, but a necessity when bias taints the process.

Conclusion

The custodial death of Deva Pardhi is not merely a tragic event—it is a mirror held up to the systemic erosion of accountability in India’s criminal justice system. In transferring the case to the CBI and holding the State to account for its failures, the Supreme Court has emphatically reiterated that no State apparatus, however powerful, is above the Constitution. The judgment stands as a clarion call for legal reform, ethical policing, and the preservation of human dignity in custodial spaces.

The complete judgment may be read here.

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A Republic That Listens: The Supreme Court’s poetic defence of dissent through Imran Pratapgarhi judgment

Not Fragile, Not Silent: SC chooses principle over punishment in response to BJP MP Dubey’s outburst, reasserts role as Constitutional check

The post “Shielding their own”: Supreme Court slams Madhya Pradesh police, transfers custodial death probe of a tribal man to CBI appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The poem did not name any religion or community but lamented injustice, questioned state power, and called for non-violence as a means of resistance. The complaint alleged it incited religious hatred and disturbed social harmony.

What was at stake was far greater than one poem or one politician—it was the scope of criminal law in regulating political speech, the meaning of “incitement”, and whether popular offence can override constitutional values.

Background: A poem, a platform, and a prosecution

On December 29, 2024, during a mass wedding programme in Jamnagar, Gujarat, organised by a local councillor, Imran Pratapgarhi recited a poem that was later posted as a video on his verified social media account on the platform ‘X’. The poem included verses such as:

“ए ख़ून के प्यासों बात सुनो
गर हक़ की लड़ाई ज़ुल्म सही
हम ज़ुल्म से इश्क़ निभा देंगे…”

Translated broadly:

“O you blood-thirsty, listen!
If the fight for rights brings injustice,
We will meet that injustice with love…”

The FIR accused the appellant of promoting enmity between communities and disturbing national harmony. Shockingly, he was charged under Sections 196, 197(1), 302, 299, 57 and 3(5) of the BNS—provisions dealing with incitement, hate speech, religious disharmony, and even abetment of violence. Through the FIR, it was alleged that the spoken words of the poem incite people of one community against another, and it hurts a community’s religious and social sentiments. It was further alleged that the song had lyrics that incited people of other communities to fight for the community’s rights. It was claimed that the video posted by the appellant created enmity between two communities at the national level and hatred towards each other. It was further alleged that it had a detrimental effect on national unity.

Key observations of the Court

1. Constitutional Voice vs. State Machinery: A foundational tension

At the heart of this judgment lies an old constitutional paradox: the State is both the guarantor and violator of fundamental rights. Justice Oka, with characteristic candour, begins by confronting this tension head-on:

“This case shows that even after 75 years of the existence of our Constitution, the law enforcement machinery of the State is either ignorant about this important fundamental right or does not care for this fundamental right.” (Para 1)

In this opening salvo of the judgment, Justice Abhay S. Oka sets the tone for a judgment that is as much an indictment of institutional apathy as it is a reaffirmation of constitutional values. The observation that even after 75 years of constitutional existence, law enforcement remains either ignorant of or indifferent to the fundamental right to freedom of expression, reveals a profound structural dysfunction. This remark is not made in passing—it is a judicial rebuke aimed squarely at a State apparatus that defaults to coercion over constitutional engagement. By framing the issue as one of institutional disrepair rather than individual excess, the Court shifts the spotlight from the accused citizen to the accuser state, raising critical questions about how routinely—and with what legal illiteracy—criminal law is weaponised to suppress dissent.

What emerges from this framing is the Court’s role not as a mere adjudicator of facts, but as a constitutional conscience-keeper. Rather than balancing “free speech” against “law and order,” the judgment asserts that the State’s repeated resort to criminal prosecution for expressive acts is itself an affront to the constitutional order. This is not just about a misreading of a poem—it is about the State’s deep discomfort with metaphor, criticism, and resistance. The Court’s insistence that the rule of law includes a duty to respect rights, not merely regulate them, transforms the case into a referendum on how faithfully the State embodies the very freedoms it claims to guarantee. In doing so, the Court subtly but powerfully reclaims constitutional morality as an active, living principle—not a hollow preamble.

2. A Theory of Free Speech: From libertarian tolerance to affirmative protection

This judgment doesn’t merely shield speech—it underlines its necessity. Justice Oka, who had authored the judgment on the behalf of the Bench, frames Article 19(1) (a) as not merely a right but as a structural precondition for human dignity and democratic engagement, thereby locating it within the broader penumbra of Article 21:

“Free expression of thoughts and views by individuals or groups of individuals is an integral part of a healthy, civilised society. Without freedom of expression of thoughts and views, it is impossible to lead a dignified life guaranteed by Article 21 of the Constitution. In a healthy democracy, the views, opinions or thoughts expressed by an individual or group of individuals must be countered by expressing another point of view. Even if a large number of persons dislike the views expressed by another, the right of the person to express the views must be respected and protected.” (Para 38)

This convergence of Articles 19 and 21 reflects a distinctly substantive conception of liberty, moving beyond formal non-interference toward affirmative obligation. The State (including the police and judiciary) is thus required not just to refrain from suppressing speech but to actively ensure its flourishing.

“The reasonable restrictions provided for in Article 19(2) must remain reasonable and not fanciful and oppressive. Article 19(2) cannot be allowed to overshadow the substantive rights under Article 19(1), including the right to freedom of speech and expression.” (Para 29)

3.  The law’s elasticity: From ambiguity to abuse

The charges levelled against Pratapgarhi under Sections 196, 197, 299, 302, and 57 of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita represent an alarming instance of legal overbreadth being used as a political weapon. The BNS, like its predecessor IPC, contains clauses so capaciously worded (e.g., “feelings of enmity”, “disharmony”, “outraging religious beliefs”) that they leave room for subjective interpretation and state-led abuse.

Justice Oka (and J Bhuyan) cut through this ambiguity:

“By no stretch of imagination does it promote enmity… The poem refers to injustice and offers non-violence as a response. It cannot be seen as a cause of communal disharmony.” (Para 10)

This is a clear attempt to re-inscribe constitutional interpretation over statutory vagueness, requiring any criminal allegation under these sections to pass a high threshold of intent, clarity, and demonstrable harm.

4. From Lalita Kumari to BNSS: Rethinking FIR registration

The Court’s discussion on Section 173(3) of the BNSS is an important departure from earlier CrPC jurisprudence under Lalita Kumari.

Where Lalita Kumari limited the police’s discretion, the BNSS introduces a structured preliminary inquiry model for offences punishable by 3–7 years—like many speech-related provisions.

The Supreme Court insists that in all speech-related cases where this discretion is available, it must be exercised:

“If an option under sub-Section (3) is not exercised by the police officer in such a case, he may end up registering an FIR against a person who has exercised his fundamental right under Article 19 (1)(a) even though clause (2) of Article 19 is not attracted. If, in such cases, the option under sub-Section (3) of Section 173 is not exercised, it will defeat the very object of incorporating sub-Section (3) of Section 173 of the BNSS and will also defeat the obligation of the police under Article 51-A (a).” (Para 29)

This means the police must now interpret the text of the speech itself, not just the complaint—an approach that, while normatively sound, places interpretive responsibility on officers often untrained in the subtleties of metaphor, political critique, or artistic licence.

5. Institutional analysis: The High Court’s abdication and the Supreme Court’s role as rights sentinel

The Gujarat High Court, by deferring to the early stage of the investigation, abdicated its constitutional responsibility to scrutinise rights violations at the threshold.

The Supreme Court rebuked this stance:

      “We fail to understand how the High Court concluded that the message was posted in a manner that would certainly disturb social harmony. Thereafter, the High Court gave a reason that the investigation was at a nascent stage. There is no absolute rule that when the investigation is at a nascent stage, the High Court cannot exercise its jurisdiction to quash an offence by exercising its jurisdiction under Article 226 of the Constitution of India or under Section 482 of the CrPC equivalent to Section 528 of the BNSS. When the High Court, in the given case, finds that no offence was made out on the face of it, to prevent abuse of the process of law, it can always interfere even though the investigation is at the nascent stage.” (Para 37)

This reaffirms that judicial intervention in the early stages of political or speech-related prosecutions is not just permissible but necessary. The longer the case proceeds, the more the process itself becomes punishment. This view counters a dangerous trend: judicial evasion in politically sensitive matters, often under the guise of deference to procedure. Here, the Court restores its duty as a constitutional firewall, refusing to be paralysed by formalism.

6. The Reasonable Reader standard: Sedition, hate Speech, and judicial empathy

A key analytical move in the judgment is the revival of the “reasonable, strong-minded” observer standard from Bhagwati Charan Shukla:

“When an offence punishable under Section 196 of BNS is alleged, the effect of the spoken or written words will have to be considered based on standards of reasonable, strongminded, firm and courageous individuals and not based on the standards of people with weak and oscillating minds. The effect of the spoken or written words cannot be judged on the basis of the standards of people who always have a sense of insecurity or of those who always perceive criticism as a threat to their power or position.” (Para 33)

This interpretive lens displaces subjective offence with an objective, resilient baseline, thereby protecting robust discourse. It delegitimises state action based solely on hurt sentiments or perceived disrespect to power. This is especially important in India’s contemporary climate, where claims of communal hurt are often wielded as instruments of political repression.

7. Literature as democratic praxis: The place of poetry in the Constitutional Order

In recognising the poem’s form and context, the Court refrains from sterilising language into literalism. Justice Oka honours the metaphorical richness of poetic expression and its political function:

“…the poem does not encourage violence. On the contrary, it encourages people to desist from resorting to violence and to face injustice with love. It states that if our fight with injustice results into the death of our near and dear ones, we would be happy to bury their bodies.” (Para 10)

Poetry here is not ornamental—it is political speech in its most potent, imaginative form. The Court recognises that to penalise such speech is to criminalise dissent itself. This judgment contributes to an emerging jurisprudence where art is recognised as both speech and constitutional engagement, not as a diluted cousin of prose but as its fiercest challenger.

8. Toward a doctrine of “Constitutional offence”

Perhaps the most striking analytical thread is the Court’s suggestion that some state actions themselves verge on a constitutional offence:

      “Even while dealing with the performance of an obligation under sub-Section (1) of Section 173, where the commission of the offence is based on spoken or written words, the police officer concerned will have to keep in mind the fundamental rights guaranteed under Article 19(1)(a) read with an exception carved out under clause (2) of Article 19. The reason is that he is under an obligation to abide by the Constitution and to respect the ideals under the Constitution. The Constitution is more than 75 years old. By this time, the police officers ought to have been sensitized about their duty of abiding by the Constitution and respecting the ideals of the Constitution.” (Para 30)

Here, Justice Oka (and Justice Bhuyan) aren’t merely interpreting law—they are charging the State with constitutional delinquency. In doing so, they lay the groundwork for a potential doctrine where misuse of criminal process to silence dissent could itself be a rights violation subject to public law remedy.

This is not explicitly framed in the language of compensation or tort—but it hints at a growing judicial recognition that abuse of power is not neutral—it is a rights violation in itself.

Legal analysis of offences under BNS: A systematic dismantling

In the judgment, the Supreme Court, has also meticulously analysed the ingredients of each alleged offence and found all of them legally untenable.

1. Section 196 (Promoting enmity between groups)

      “The poem does not refer to any religion, caste or language. It does not refer to persons belonging to any religion. By no stretch of imagination, does it promote enmity between different groups. We fail to understand how the statements therein are detrimental to national unity and how the statements will affect national unity. On its plain reading, the poem does not purport to affect anyone’s religious feelings.” (Para 12)

Based on precedent (Manzar Sayeed Khan, Patricia Mukhim, Javed Ahmad Hajam), the Court reaffirmed that criminalising speech requires a showing of deliberate intent (mens rea). Without it, the mere content of speech, however provocative to some, is not criminal.

      “Mens rea will have to be read into Section 196 of the BNS… it is impossible to attribute any mens rea to the appellant.” (Para 34)

2. Section 197 (Prejudicial to national integration)

Therefore, as the Supreme Court, read both facts and the law, the poem by Imran Pratapgarhi did not attract the offence under Section 197 as it:

• Did not cast doubt on the loyalty of any group.
• Did not assert the denial of citizenship rights.
• Did not jeopardise national unity.

      “…the poem does not make or publish any imputation and is not concerned with any religious, racial, language, regional group, caste, or community. It does not suggest that any class of persons have been denied rights as citizens because they are members of a religious, racial, language, regional group, caste, or community. It does not make or publish any assertion, counsel, plea or appeal likely to cause disharmony or feeling of enmity or hatred or ill will. The poem does not publish or make any false or misleading information.” (Para 16)

3. Section 299 & Section 302 (Religious insult or wounding religious sentiment)

The Court termed these charges “ridiculous”:

      “To say the least, it is ridiculous to say that the act of the appellant is intended to outrage the religious feelings of any class by insulting its religion or religious beliefs. The poem only tells the rulers what the reaction will be if the fight for rights is met with injustice.” (Para 17)

4. Section 57 (Abetment by public)

      “We fail to understand, even if it is assumed that the appellant has committed some offence, how he has abetted the commission of an offence by the public generally or by any number or class of persons exceeding ten.” (Para 19)

The Supreme Court’s systematic dismantling of the charges against Imran Pratapgarhi reflects a jurisprudence grounded in constitutional fidelity and statutory precision. In addressing Section 196 of the BNS—concerning promotion of enmity between groups—the Court reiterates a long-standing doctrinal principle: that the mere capacity of speech to provoke cannot substitute for a demonstrable, deliberate intent to incite enmity. Drawing from precedents like Manzar Sayeed Khan, Patricia Mukhim, and Javed Ahmad Hajam, the Court makes it clear that mens rea—a deliberate, malicious state of mind—is essential for liability. The poem in question, devoid of any reference to religion, caste, or community, could not be interpreted as promoting group enmity, and to criminalise it would be a distortion of both the statute and the Constitution. The Court’s reading imposes a constitutional filter on the BNS provision, ensuring it cannot be misused to punish subjective offence or perceived disrespect.

This logic extends seamlessly to the rejection of charges under Sections 197, 299, 302, and 57. Under Section 197, which deals with acts prejudicial to national integration, the Court’s reasoning is particularly illuminating. Justice Oka dissects the elements of the offence and finds none fulfilled: the poem neither impugns any group’s loyalty nor suggests the denial of citizenship rights, nor does it propagate disinformation. Similarly, the invocation of Section 299 and 302 for religious insult is dismissed as “ridiculous,” with the Court recognising that the poem critiques state injustice, not religious belief. Most striking is the Court’s incredulity at the Section 57 charge—abetment by the public—highlighting not only the absence of any instigated act but also the absurdity of imagining that poetic expression could be interpreted as a generalised call to criminal conduct. This cluster of analyses reveals not only the hollowness of the FIR but also the deeper pathology of criminal law’s misuse: charges laid without regard for statutory thresholds, constitutional limits, or evidentiary plausibility. Justice Oka and Justice Bhuyan’s reasoning is a potent reminder that law, especially criminal law, cannot be driven by sentiment, conjecture, or political expediency—it must be anchored in demonstrable harm, clear intent, and legal fidelity.

The Court as guardian of the Republic’s imagination

Imran Pratapgarhi judgement is not merely about poetry—it is about power, protest, and the place of dissent in India’s constitutional framework. This judgment revitalises the meaning of free speech in an age where criminal law is increasingly wielded to silence opposition. It teaches us that:

• Law is not merely a set of punishments but a moral language.
• Courts must defend expression, even if the State finds it discomforting.
• Poetry, critique, and satire are not seditious—they are the scaffolding of a free republic.

In this moment, the Supreme Court does not merely defend a poem—it defends the possibility of dissent itself. And that makes it one of the most important judgments on freedom of speech in recent Indian history.

To borrow the Court’s own words:

      “Courts, particularly the constitutional Courts, must be at the forefront to zealously protect the fundamental rights of the citizens. It is the bounden duty of the Courts to ensure that the Constitution and the ideals of the Constitution are not trampled upon.” (Para 39)

Conclusion: A Constitutional anthem for the right to dissent

The Imran Pratapgarhi judgment stands as a powerful reaffirmation that the Constitution of India is not a brittle document to be bruised by sentiment, nor a tool to be twisted by the might of the State. It is, instead, a living charter that guarantees not only the right to speak, but the right to disturb, to provoke, and to dissent—particularly through art, poetry, and political expression. Justice Oka’s reasoning does not merely rescue one man from a legally untenable prosecution; it reclaims the constitutional promise that the State cannot demand silence in exchange for citizenship.

By scrupulously dismantling every charge brought under the BNS and holding law enforcement accountable to constitutional ideals, the judgment delivers a rare, lucid defence of free speech in an era when such freedoms are frequently under siege. It goes beyond the judicial role of error correction and enters the moral terrain of democratic defence. This case is not just precedent—it is a call to conscience for the police, for the lower judiciary, and for civil society. In drawing a firm constitutional line between law and power, it sends an unequivocal message: poetic dissent is not criminal, and the Constitution does not flinch before uncomfortable truths.

Ultimately, this is not merely a judgment about the legality of a poem—it is a resounding assertion of the Republic’s constitutional soul. It reminds us that the true test of democracy is not how the State treats speech that flatters, but how it responds to speech that resists. On that test, the Supreme Court has spoken with uncommon clarity and courage.

The complete judgment may be read below.

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The post A Republic That Listens: The Supreme Court’s poetic defence of dissent through Imran Pratapgarhi judgment appeared first on SabrangIndia.

I. Policing at a Breaking Point: Undermanned, undertrained, and underprepared

The India Justice Report 2025 presents a sobering assessment: India’s policing system, crucial to the delivery of justice and maintenance of public trust, remains trapped in a cycle of chronic under-capacity, neglect of training, weak diversity, and mounting public distrust.

At the national level, India’s police-population ratio remains alarmingly low at 155 police personnel per 100,000 population, well short of the sanctioned strength of 197.5 and far below the United Nations’ recommended minimum of 222. The disparities are even more troubling at the state level: Bihar, for instance, deploys just 81 police personnel per lakh, leaving communities drastically underserved.

This shortage is amplified by high vacancy rates. As of 2023, 22% of sanctioned posts across all ranks were vacant nationally, with states like Uttar Pradesh facing a vacancy rate exceeding 25%. Recruitment drives have been sporadic and insufficient, with training capacities unable to keep up with even existing personnel needs.

Training, the backbone of effective policing, is gravely underfunded. States on average allocate only 1.25% of their police budgets to training, with only four states exceeding the 2% threshold. Further, only five states possess fully accredited police training academies. Specialised training in crucial areas such as cybercrime investigation, gender sensitisation, juvenile justice, and forensic handling remains thin and inconsistent across the country.

The crisis in forensic staffing exacerbates poor investigative quality: Half of all sanctioned forensic posts nationally remain vacant. Without adequate forensic support, investigations falter, leading to delayed trials, wrongful acquittals, or even wrongful convictions.

Infrastructure modernisation, while visible in patches, remains uneven.

• 83% of police stations now have at least one CCTV camera, yet compliance with Paramvir Singh Saini Supreme Court standards is inconsistent.
• 78% of police stations have set up women’s helpdesks, yet no state or UT meets its internal reservation targets for women in police, where the national average stands at a low 12%. Only Andhra Pradesh, Bihar, Chandigarh, Ladakh, and Tamil Nadu show movement towards the 33% target.

Urban-rural divides sharpen the challenges: Between 2017 and 2022, urban police stations increased by 4%, while rural police stations declined by 7%. In rural areas, each station covers an average of 300 square kilometres, compared to just 20 square kilometres for urban stations — dramatically limiting police accessibility for rural citizens.

Community policing initiatives — vital for building local trust — remain poorly institutionalised. Few states maintain dedicated community policing units or trained officers, and even where they exist, budgetary support is minimal.

Digitisation efforts such as the Crime and Criminal Tracking Network & Systems (CCTNS) and the Interoperable Criminal Justice System (ICJS) have made gains.
However, infrastructural bottlenecks — poor internet, electricity issues, and limited digital literacy among police — undermine their potential.

Gender diversity: The national benchmark for women’s representation in the police is 33 per cent, as advised by the central government in 2009. As of January 2023, the overall representation of women in the police (the civil police, District Armed Reserve [DAR], Special Armed Police Battalion, and Indian Reserve Battalion [IRB]) across all states and UTs stood at only 12.3 per cent, a modest rise from 11.7 per cent in January 2022. Among the large and mid-sized states, Bihar, at 24 per cent, now leads in women’s representation in the police, surpassing Andhra Pradesh (22%). Bihar also recorded the highest growth, from 21 per cent in 2022 to 24 per cent in 2023. Conversely, nine states/UTs,49 including Telangana, Madhya Pradesh, and West Bengal, saw declines, and seventeen states/UTs still report women’s representation below 10 per cent. Multiple MHA advisories have recommended three women Sub-Inspectors (SI) and 10 women constables in each police station. With little change over 2022, except Delhi, no state/UT meets this benchmark for SIs

Caste representation: Representation of under-represented caste groups are set by each state in line with its population mix. As of January 2023, Karnataka stands out as the only state to consistently achieve its targets across all three reserved groups, Scheduled Castes, Scheduled Tribes, and Other Backward Castes, both at the officer and the constabulary levels.

• Scheduled caste- Only four states (Gujarat, Manipur, Karnataka, and Himachal Pradesh) met their SC quotas at both officer and constabulary levels. Goa is the only other state to meet its target at the officer ranks. Sikkim, Bihar, Tamil Nadu, Punjab, Andhra Pradesh, Uttarakhand, and Kerala met their quotas only at the constabulary level. Uttar Pradesh (61%), Rajasthan (52%), Tripura (47%), and Bihar (42%) faced the largest deficits in SC officer appointments.
• Scheduled Tribes- Several states have made significant strides in improving Scheduled Tribe (ST) representation within their police forces, with Bihar, Himachal Pradesh, and Karnataka demonstrating good performance by meeting their ST targets across both officer and constabulary ranks. However, Jammu & Kashmir, Punjab, Uttar Pradesh, Tamil Nadu, and Tripura exhibit the highest shortfalls among ST Officers. Punjab has a 25 per cent quota for STs; it records only 3 ST Officers, equivalent to a 0.11 per cent representation or a shortfall of 99.8 per cent.
• Other Backward Classes: Nine states/UTs63 among those with quotas64 for Other Backward Classes (OBC) at the officer level have successfully met their targets. Tamil Nadu, Sikkim, and Kerala have over 40 per cent reservation for OBCs; in this instance, Tamil Nadu has exceeded its quota but Kerala and Sikkim have shortfalls of 7 per cent and 10 per cent, respectively.

The India Justice Report concludes bluntly: Without radical investment in human resources, serious upgrading of forensic and digital capacities, targeted gender inclusion and caste diversity, and strengthening rural policing, India’s policing system risks becoming increasingly irrelevant, reactive, and distrusted.

II. Prisons in Freefall: Overcrowded, underserved, and forgotten

India’s prison system, already strained, has now reached crisis proportions.
The India Justice Report 2025 reveals a sector overwhelmed by overcrowding, underfunding, systemic understaffing, and the abandonment of rehabilitation as a serious goal. Over the past decade, India’s prison population has expanded by almost 50%, while corresponding increases in infrastructure, medical care, or staffing have remained grossly inadequate. The national average prison occupancy stands at a shocking 131%, and 176 prisons operate at 200% occupancy or more. Several prisons house four times their sanctioned capacity.

Even more troubling is the composition of the prison population: 76% are undertrials — individuals who have not yet been convicted but are imprisoned due to sluggish police investigations, delayed trials, or systemic barriers to bail. In 20 states and UTs, more than 20% of undertrials have been detained between one to three years, without being found guilty.

Period of Detention: On average undertrials are spending more time than ever before in pre-trial detention. At the end of 2022, 11,448 or 2.6 per cent had spent more than five years in pretrial detention. This is considerably higher than the 5,011 in 2019 and 2,028 in 2012. Worryingly, Uttar Pradesh alone accounted for nearly 40 per cent of the undertrials who had spent more than five years in detention.

Infrastructure and healthcare deficits are appalling:

• According to the Supreme Court-appointed Amitava Roy Committee, only 68% of inmates have access to basic sleeping space.
• Health services are grossly underprovided: many prisons have one doctor for several hundred prisoners, whereas standards require one doctor for every 300 inmates.
• Mental health services are practically absent: out of 5.7 lakh prisoners, there are only 25 sanctioned psychologists or psychiatrists nationally, and 25 states/UTs have sanctioned none.

Staffing shortages exacerbate the situation:

• Nationally, over 33% of sanctioned prison posts remain vacant.
• Guard-to-inmate ratios in many states are as high as one guard per 80–100 prisoners, against the recommended 1:6 ratio, compromising safety and order.

Welfare spending is neglected: Less than 1% of prison budgets are allocated for rehabilitation, education, vocational training, or prisoner welfare. Funds earmarked for these purposes are often underutilised or redirected toward basic administrative costs.

Despite the adoption of forward-looking policies like the Model Prison Manual 2016 and the Model Prison and Correctional Services Act 2023, real transformation remains minimal. While 86% of prisons have introduced video conferencing facilities for court appearances, this has not significantly reduced trial delays or undertrial detention periods.

Legal aid services inside prisons are patchy:

• Only 67% of prisons have functional legal aid clinics.
• Where available, lawyers are poorly compensated (between ₹500–₹1000 per case), leading to low commitment and high absenteeism.

Open prisons — proven internationally to reduce recidivism — exist in only 16 states, covering a minuscule fraction of eligible inmates.

The situation for women prisoners is even worse:

• Sanctioned budgets for maternity and childcare are inadequate.
• Many prisons lack gender-sensitive facilities like private counselling spaces or sufficient women staff.

Deaths in custody, both natural and unnatural, have risen between 2017 and 2022 — a grim indicator of the system’s growing brutality.

The India Justice Report warns unambiguously: Until governments prioritise prison reforms with serious budgetary commitment, robust healthcare staffing, expanded rehabilitation services, and genuine decongestion measures, prisons will continue to be spaces of injustice, suffering, and lost human potential.

Conclusion: A justice delivery chain under threat

India’s police and prison systems form two vital links in the chain of justice.
Today, both are stretched to breaking point — one unable to protect citizens effectively, the other compounding injustice by warehousing them indefinitely.

The India Justice Report 2025 demands nothing less than a structural overhaul:

• Massive recruitment drives and specialised training
• Scientific and gender-diverse policing
• Investment in forensic and digital infrastructure
• Aggressive decongestion of prisons
• Rehabilitation-driven prisoner management
• Guaranteeing legal aid access and prison healthcare

The complete report may be read here.

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India’s Free Speech Crisis Deepens: 329 violations recorded in just four months of 2025

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The post A System Under Strain: India’s police and prisons in crisis shows Indian Justice Report 2025 appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The IJR 2025 delivers a sobering yet illuminating portrait of the state of justice delivery across the country. Drawing from government data across police, judiciary, prisons, legal aid, and human rights commissions, it presents a powerful call to action. Despite pockets of progress, the national picture remains dominated by chronic capacity deficits, deep systemic inequalities, and a sluggish pace of reform.

A System Under Strain: Deficits and gaps

Across the pillars of justice, major structural weaknesses persist. Police forces nationwide allocate a mere 1.25% of their budget to training, a clear indicator that human capital development remains a low priority. Alarmingly, no state or union territory meets its own reserved quotas for women in the police, exposing deep gender disparities at the very frontline of law enforcement.

The forensic science ecosystem, crucial to modern crime detection and fair trials, is also buckling. Half the sanctioned forensic staff positions across the country remain vacant, paralysing investigations and exacerbating delays. In prisons, conditions continue to deteriorate: 176 prisons report occupancy rates of 200% or more, while over 20% of undertrial prisoners have been incarcerated for one to three years without conviction — an indictment of both police investigation and judicial functioning.

Judicial backlogs have reached staggering heights, with over five crore cases pending across court levels, reflecting a crippling burden on the system. Meanwhile, the promise of judicial dynamism is undermined by the fact that only 4% of cases are initiated suo motu — a marker of proactive judicial intervention — leaving citizens heavily dependent on individual litigation to seek redress.

In the realm of legal aid, there has been a disheartening drop in the number of paralegal volunteers since 2019, and access to basic legal advice in rural and marginalised communities remains worryingly thin.

The crisis extends to prisoner welfare too. For a prison population exceeding 5.7 lakh, the country boasts just 25 sanctioned psychologists or psychiatrists, with 25 states and UTs sanctioning none at all. The absence of mental health support in overcrowded, violent environments exacerbates the cycles of trauma and criminality that prisons are supposed to break.

Green Shoots: Signs of progress

Yet, amidst these dismal findings, rays of hope shine through. A steady expansion of digital infrastructure and gender diversity points towards meaningful, if limited, gains.

By 2025:

• 83% of police stations have at least one CCTV camera, a critical tool for ensuring transparency and accountability in custodial settings.
• 78% of police stations now have women’s helpdesks, offering marginal improvements in gender-sensitive policing.
• 86% of prisons are equipped with at least one video-conferencing facility, easing prisoner access to courts without physical transfers.
• The share of women judges in the district judiciary has climbed to 38%, a vital step towards a more representative bench.

Notably, six states now meet the recommended benchmark of one woman medical officer for every 300 women inmates in prisons, addressing a long-standing neglect of gender-sensitive prison health services.

High courts have managed to maintain case clearance rates exceeding 100% annually since 2017, a promising trend suggesting some resilience even under extreme workload pressures.

Data based on the national findings:

1. Who Leads, Who Lags: Rankings across states

Large and mid-sized states (Map 1)

• Karnataka retains the top position among 18 large states, with a composite score of 6.78/10.
• Andhra Pradesh makes a remarkable jump to second place (6.32), up from fifth earlier.
• Telangana ranks third (6.15), showing consistent progress since 2019.
• Kerala and Tamil Nadu complete the top five.

At the bottom:

• Bihar, Rajasthan, Jharkhand, Uttarakhand, Uttar Pradesh, and West Bengal occupy the lowest ranks.
• West Bengal drops to the bottom (18^th place), swapping places with Uttar Pradesh.

Small states (Map 2)

• Sikkim remains the top-ranked small state (5.20/10).
• Himachal Pradesh and Arunachal Pradesh follow closely.
• Meghalaya, Mizoram, and Goa slide to the bottom ranks among the seven small states.

2. Scorecards of Change: Who improved? (Figure 1: Improvement scorecard)

The report measured whether states had improved between the 2022 and 2025 editions across 68 indicators.

Top improvers among large states:

• Bihar improved on 47 out of 68 indicators — the highest improvement rate.
• Chhattisgarh, Odisha, Rajasthan, and Karnataka also showed strong positive shifts (around 40 indicators each).

Among small states:

• Himachal Pradesh and Sikkim were the most consistent improvers.

Uttarakhand, Haryana, and Madhya Pradesh showed moderate improvements, while states like Maharashtra, Gujarat, and Tamil Nadu showed worrying stagnation or decline.

3. Diversity and Representation: Still a distant goal?

Diversity rankings (Figure 2)

• Karnataka is the only large state to meet SC, ST, and OBC quotas in both police and judiciary.
• Caste-based diversity in judicial appointments is poor across most states, despite constitutional mandates.

Women’s representation (Figure 3–5)

• Five states — Andhra Pradesh, Bihar, Chandigarh, Ladakh, and Tamil Nadu — are moving steadily towards achieving 33% women’s representation in police.
• District judiciary has seen a steady rise in women judges, now at 38%, but High Courts and Supreme Court continue to show male domination.
• Projections suggest that even at the current pace, it will take decades for full gender parity.

4. Human Resources: Vacancies and gaps (Figure 7–9)

• Judge-to-population ratios remain poor across almost all states; subordinate courts suffer from 20% judicial vacancies on average.
• Police vacancies have barely improved since 2017.
• Forensics staffing is dangerously low, jeopardising the quality of investigations and trials; Out of nearly 10,000 sanctioned posts across states, nearly 50% remain vacant.

5. Justice system intent and budgets (Figure 10-11)

• Budgets for judiciary, legal aid, and police have increased — but primarily towards salaries, with little new investment in training, modernisation, or infrastructure.
• States’ contributions to legal aid budgets remain minimal, indicating a continued lack of political will.

6. Pendency of cases (Figure 12-15)

• Cases pending for more than three years account for a large proportion of the backlog in subordinate courts.
• Cases pending more than five years are also rising steadily — indicating systemic failures in ensuring timely justice.

Regional leaders and laggards

Southern states dominate the upper echelons of the justice delivery rankings. Karnataka leads among large states, followed closely by Andhra Pradesh, Telangana, Kerala, and Tamil Nadu. Karnataka stands out as the only state that meets Scheduled Caste, Scheduled Tribe, and Other Backward Classes quotas in both the police and judiciary.

Among smaller states, Sikkim has consistently retained its top position, followed by Himachal Pradesh and Arunachal Pradesh. In contrast, Goa, Mizoram, and Meghalaya have slipped to the bottom rungs.

At the lower end, Uttar Pradesh and West Bengal continue to battle for last place among larger states, highlighting severe structural deficits.

Capacity challenges across the board

The findings also reveal that capacity-building remains elusive across pillars. Police forces struggle with low personnel numbers and training investments. Prisons remain overcrowded and under-resourced. Judicial strength and efficiency remain hostage to persistent vacancies and procedural rigidity. Legal aid services show shrinking outreach efforts. State Human Rights Commissions (SHRCs) display improved case disposal rates, but this masks a worrying trend: many SHRCs reject complaints at the outset rather than offering substantive resolutions, compromising their integrity and public trust.

Moreover, while technology adoption has expanded — with platforms like the National Judicial Data Grid (NJDG) and NALSA’s legal aid management system — poor internet access, patchy digitisation, and bureaucratic inertia hamper real transformation.

A call to action

The India Justice Report 2025 makes it starkly clear: without serious, sustained investment in the structural capacities of the justice system, without a genuine commitment to inclusion, transparency, and systemic reform, India’s vision of equitable, accessible justice will remain out of reach.

Data from the report underscores that while isolated improvements are visible, the system as a whole still falters. Fragmented, underfunded, and often discriminatory, India’s justice institutions need not just incremental changes but a concerted, well-resourced overhaul.

The findings are not just a mirror of current realities, but a roadmap for an ambitious, necessary transformation — one where justice, as promised by the Constitution, can become a lived reality for all.

The complete report may be read here.

Related:

Beed to Delhi: Lawyer beaten in Maharashtra, judge threatened in Delhi—what the path for justice means for women practioners in today’s India

When Courts Fail Survivors: How patriarchy shapes justice in sexual offence against women cases

For us to be truly free & independent, both media & judiciary need one another: (Justice) S Muralidhar

Rona Wilson and Sudhir Dhawale released: Seven years of injustice by a state that punishes dissent

The post Underfunded, Overburdened, and Unjust: The national verdict from the India Justice Report 2025 appeared first on SabrangIndia.

On the afternoon of April 22, the area was bustling with families, couples, and individual tourists. Many were enjoying tea and snacks after a trek or pony ride to the high-altitude meadow, unaware of the horror about to unfold.

At approximately 2:45 pm, peace was torn apart when a group of four heavily armed militants, disguised in camouflage uniforms, emerged from the forest surrounding Baisaran. Without warning, they opened fire on the unsuspecting tourists, unleashing a hail of bullets that reverberated across the valley.

Witnesses described a scene of sheer panic and terror. Tourists, many of them with children, fled in every direction. One survivor from Nagpur, Simran Chandani, spoke to The Times of India and recalled the chaos: “We had just finished our tea and were preparing to leave. Suddenly, we heard what we thought was a balloon bursting, and then came the screams, the stampede. I ran, taking the name of God.”

Initial reports confirmed 28 civilians killed—most of them tourists—and many more injured, making it one of the deadliest terrorist attacks in India since the 2008 Mumbai carnage. Questions have been raised regarding the absence of any police, paramilitary, or army in or around the place of attack, as a large number of tourists were present at the Baisaran meadow. As per media accounts, ANI, PTI, Greater Kashmir, about six armed gunmen first encircled then selectively shot dead the men from among several visitors gathered there.

Claim of responsibility and motive

A group of four, including two locals, identifying itself as Resistance Front (TRF), believed to be a front for the Pakistan-based Lashkar-e-Taiba, claimed responsibility for the heinous assault. The group cited opposition to the recent settlement of more than 85,000 outsiders in the region as their justification—a deeply troubling development, hinting at targeted violence based on identity and residency. Sketches of the suspected attackers—identified as Asif Fauji, Suleman Shah, and Abu Talha (aliases Moosa, Yunus, and Asif)—were released shortly after the attack. 

Targeted horror and eyewitness testimony

A report of Deccan Herald provided the account of survivors, who says that the militants deliberately targeted men, asking them to identify themselves and even allegedly forcing some to recite Islamic verses. There were claims that some were made to remove clothing before being executed at close range. Although these details are still being verified, the cruelty and premeditation behind the attack are undeniable.

The firings lasted an excruciating 20 to 25 minutes at least, as per multiple media reports. Over 70 shell casings—belonging to American M4 carbine rifles and AK-47s—were found at the scene. The attackers later vanished into the forested terrain, triggering a massive search operation by Indian security forces.

One local, Syed Adil Hussain Shah, a pony ride operator, emerged as a tragic hero. He attempted to disarm one of the terrorists in a desperate bid to protect a tourist under his care. Shah was shot dead during the attempt—becoming the only Kashmiri local killed in the attack. His grieving family, now without its only breadwinner, has appealed for justice.

The Victims: Lives interrupted, dreams extinguished

The true weight of the Pahalgam attack is not in the number of bullets fired or shell casings recovered, but in the lives so brutally cut short. Each victim was more than a statistic—they were sons, daughters, parents, and partners.

Among those killed was a young Indian Navy officer on his honeymoon, his uniform traded for a few days of peace in the hills. A retired banker from Andhra Pradesh was also gunned down without warning. A realtor from Karnataka, an accountant from Odisha, and a cement dealer from Uttar Pradesh—each on a simple holiday with loved ones—met the same cruel fate.

There was a man from Kerala who had recently returned from the Gulf, and a tourist from Nepal, the only foreign national killed, whose presence was a reminder of Kashmir’s reputation as a destination that once transcended borders. Now, their names are etched into a grim list of those who never made it home. The tragedy of this attack lies not only in the brutality of the act but in the ordinary, joyful moments it stole. This was not just an attack on individuals—it was an attack on the fundamental human desire to seek beauty, joy, and connection. And that is why it cuts so deep.

A Local Hero: The story of Syed Adil Hussain Shah

As bullets rained down on unsuspecting tourists in Pahalgam, amidst screams and chaos, one man stood his ground—not to flee, but to protect. A Gujjar local Syed Adil Hussain Shah, a humble pony ride operator from Pahalgam, displayed remarkable bravery in the face of terror. NDTV reported his heroic acts in a special report. In a moment that epitomised selflessness, Shah tried to snatch a rifle from one of the gunmen in a desperate attempt to save the tourists he had ferried to the Baisaran meadow. His valiant act cost him his life.

Adil Shah was the only local killed in the brutal attack that claimed the lives of 26 tourists. According to eyewitness accounts, the terrorists were selecting victims based on their religion, reportedly asking people to recite a Koranic verse before pulling the trigger. In the midst of this horror, Shah’s actions offered a fleeting glimmer of humanity. He refused to cower—his last moments defined by courage rather than fear.

As reported by NDTV, Adil leaves behind an elderly mother and father, a wife, and young children, all of whom depended on him. The grief in the Shah household is immeasurable. His inconsolable mother wept not only for the irreplaceable loss of her son but also for the uncertain future that now looms over the family. His father, Syed Haider Shah, speaking to ANI, said: “My son went to Pahalgam yesterday to work, and around 3 pm, we heard about the attack. We called him, but his phone was switched off. Later, at 4.40 pm, his phone turned on, but no one answered. We rushed to the police station, and that’s when we learned that he had been shot in the attack. Whoever is responsible must face the consequences.”

#WATCH | J&K | Family member of Anantnag resident Syed Hussain Shah, who lost his life in the #PahalgamTerroristAttack, says, “He (Syed Hussain Shah) had gone to Pahalgam to work… We got information about the attack at 3 pm. When we called (Syed Hussain Shah), the phone was not… pic.twitter.com/8IlX5NKB8j

— ANI (@ANI) April 23, 2025

Adil’s story is more than a tragedy—it is a testament to the strength of character that often goes unsung in times of crisis. In a region haunted by decades of conflict, his death is a piercing reminder that violence knows no bounds, and its victims are often the very people who strive to preserve life. The family has appealed for justice, and the Valley mourns a son who died not in silence, but in struggle—trying to protect those who had come seeking peace in the meadows of Kashmir.

#WATCH | J&K | Mother of the Anantnag resident Syed Hussain Shah, who lost his life in the #PahalgamTerroristAttack, gets emotional, says, “He was the only bread earner of the family…” pic.twitter.com/W7BgzeVOEC

— ANI (@ANI) April 23, 2025

National and international response

The attack drew widespread condemnation and grief from both national and international quarters. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, who was on a diplomatic visit to Saudi Arabia, immediately cut short his trip and returned to India. In a statement, he described the assault as a “heinous act,” vowed that the perpetrators “will not be spared,” and promised all assistance to the injured and the families of the deceased.

I strongly condemn the terror attack in Pahalgam, Jammu and Kashmir. Condolences to those who have lost their loved ones. I pray that the injured recover at the earliest. All possible assistance is being provided to those affected.

Those behind this heinous act will be brought…

— Narendra Modi (@narendramodi) April 22, 2025

Home Minister Amit Shah flew to Srinagar to oversee the investigation, while the government decided to transfer the probe from the Jammu and Kashmir Police to the National Investigation Agency (NIA), indicating the gravity of the situation.

With a heavy heart, paid last respects to the deceased of the Pahalgam terror attack. Bharat will not bend to terror. The culprits of this dastardly terror attack will not be spared. pic.twitter.com/bFxb2nDT4H

— Amit Shah (@AmitShah) April 23, 2025

US President Donald Trump expressed deep condolences and assured India of America’s full support. The world watched in horror as images and videos of the aftermath—people screaming, bleeding, and desperately pleading for help—circulated across social media.

Across India, political leaders and citizens reacted with grief and anger. Leader of the Opposition (LOP), Rahul Gandhi expressed sorrow and condemnation at the attack but also stated on his account on X that he had spoken to Home Minister, Amit Shah.

“Spoke with HM Amit Shah, J&K CM Omar Abdullah, and J&K PCC President Tariq Karra about the horrific Pahalgam terror attack. Received an update on the situation. The families of the victims deserve justice and our fullest support,” Gandhi said.

Spoke with HM Amit Shah, J&K CM Omar Abdullah, and J&K PCC President Tariq Karra about the horrific Pahalgam terror attack. Received an update on the situation.

The families of victims deserve justice and our fullest support.

— Rahul Gandhi (@RahulGandhi) April 23, 2025

Rahul Gandhi also spoke to Jammu and Kashmir Chief Minister Omar Abdullah, the chairman of the National Conference, which leads the ruling alliance in the Union Territory, with the Congress as a coalition partner. After the 2001 attack on the Parliament, Sonia Gandhi, who was then the Lok Sabha Leader of Opposition, was among the first leaders to dial the then prime minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee, to enquire about his well-being.

Chief Minister, Jammu and Kashmir, Omar Abdullah expressed heartbreak over the mass exodus of tourists and urged cooperation with controlled evacuation efforts, given the precarity of local roads.

It’s heartbreaking to see the exodus of our guests from the valley after yesterday’s tragic terror attack in Pahalgam but at the same time we totally understand why people would want to leave. While DGCA & the Ministry of Civil Aviation are working to organise extra flights,… pic.twitter.com/5O3i5U1rBh

— Omar Abdullah (@OmarAbdullah) April 23, 2025

Mehbooba Mufti, former Chief Minister and PDP leader, led a protest march with party workers in Srinagar. They held placards reading, “This is an attack on all of us” and “Stop innocent killings.” Iltija Mufti, a young local leader, expressed disbelief, saying Baisaran was heavily patrolled and the ease with which such an attack happened was deeply alarming.

This is an attack on all of us. #Pahalgam pic.twitter.com/3NAJKrG0Wp

— J&K PDP (@jkpdp) April 23, 2025

CPI (M) leader and Kulgam MLA MY Tarigami speaking to PTI has said, “It is very unfortunate and painful for all of us. Especially for those whose family members, loved ones have been injured in the attack. When a tourist comes to Jammu and Kashmir, it opens employment opportunities for the locals here… It is a good thing for us when tourists come here again and again, but if they are attacked, then it is very shameful and painful… The government should take strict action against this.”

Condemning the dastardly attack on tourists in Pahalgam. The inhuman act of violence deserves to be denounced in the strongest terms. Such cowardly attacks on innocent civilians have no place in any civilised society.

— M Y Tarigami (@tarigami) April 22, 2025

Senior advocate and independent Rajya Sabha member, Kapil Sibal has, in a statement quoted by PTI stated, “Quoting Pakistan Chief Gen Asim Munir’s ‘jugular vein comment’, Sibal called the attack as a Pakistan-sponsored terrorist attack. He says, “It will be our jugular vein, we will not forget it, we not leave our Kashmiri brothers in their historic struggle. So obviously this is (Pakistan) state sponsored because this was said just a week ago…. I would urge the Home Minister to proscribe the outfit as a terrorist organisation under UAPA and we should file a prosecution in the International Criminal Court, urge international community to boycott Pakistan.”

Pahalgam
Baisaran Valley
26 dead so far..

This terrorist attack is an attack against humanity clearly sponsored by Pakistan.

General Munir said “Kashmir is our jugular vein..” one week ago

HM must proscribe Pakistan a terrorist state ; a terrorist organisation under UAPA

— Kapil Sibal (@KapilSibal) April 23, 2025

VIDEO | Quoting Pakistan Army chief Gen Asim Munir’s ‘jugular vein’ comment, Rajya Sabha MP Kapil Sibal (@KapilSibal) calls Pahalgam terrorist attack as Pakistan sponsored terrorist attack.

He says, “‘It will be our jugular vein, we will not forget it, we will not leave our… pic.twitter.com/CA07QxG0qG

— Press Trust of India (@PTI_News) April 23, 2025

Security and evacuation efforts

In the immediate aftermath, the region saw a significant security build-up. The Directorate General of Civil Aviation (DGCA) urged airlines to increase flights from Srinagar and waive rescheduling fees to help tourists evacuate. 

Aftermath of Pahalgam terror attack, DGCA issues advisory to airlines over surge in pricing and waiving cancellation charges: DGCA pic.twitter.com/GHzerH1NSw

— ANI (@ANI) April 23, 2025

Helicopters were deployed to airlift the severely injured, while locals—many of whom make a living from tourism—rushed to carry the wounded down the hill on ponies, a testament to the humanity still present amid horror.

Protests: A valley silenced by grief, united in defiance

This attack has dealt a severe blow to the region’s fragile calm, coming at a time when Kashmir was witnessing a revival in tourism. With the 38-day Amarnath Yatra pilgrimage set to begin in July, concerns over security are likely to grow.

While investigations continue, the horror at Pahalgam has brought back chilling memories of past tragedies in the Valley. It has reminded the country that terrorism still lurks, capable of destroying lives and peace in an instant.

On the morning following the horrific terror attack in Pahalgam that left 28 people dead—mostly tourists and local guides—Kashmir awoke to a sight it hadn’t seen in decades. Leading newspapers across the Valley printed their front pages in black, a visual lament echoing the sorrow, fury, and helplessness that had gripped the region. With headlines in stark white and crimson, the media offered a rare and haunting public protest against the brutality that once again ruptured the fragile peace of Jammu and Kashmir.

This is how Kashmir is feeling today. Saluts to the local newspapers: apologies to all Kashmiris for some of the Indian commercial electronic TV channels! https://t.co/dVycluuuwJ

— Teesta Setalvad (@TeestaSetalvad) April 23, 2025

Prominent English and Urdu dailies—Greater Kashmir, Rising Kashmir, Kashmir Uzma, Aftab, and Taameel Irshad—eschewed the usual format, opting instead for a symbolic blackout. Greater Kashmir led with the chilling headline: “Gruesome: Kashmir Gutted, Kashmiris Grieving”, its subheading in blood red: “26 killed in deadly terror attack in Pahalgam.” The editorial beneath, titled “The massacre in the meadow – Protect Kashmir’s soul,” did not mince words. It described the assault not merely as a massacre but as an existential threat— “a deliberate blow to Kashmir’s identity and values — its hospitality, its economy, and its fragile peace.”

https://t.co/IJhRewSpKd #PahalgamTerroristAttack #pahalgamattack #PahalgamTerrorAttack

— Teesta Setalvad (@TeestaSetalvad) April 23, 2025

The editorial called for an urgent reimagining of security and intelligence coordination in the Valley. “The ability of terrorists to infiltrate a high-traffic, pedestrian-only tourist site undetected,” it warned, “points to severe gaps in our preventive mechanisms.” It urged a shift from reactive to proactive governance—demanding not just increased surveillance, but greater community engagement and a concerted effort to uproot terror infrastructure.

In a dramatic shift not witnessed since the early 1990s, the entire Kashmir Valley observed a total shutdown in response to the killings—marking the first bandh called to protest terrorism in over 35 years. The call for the shutdown was widely endorsed across the political spectrum and sections of civil society, including religious organisations, business federations, students’ unions, and trade bodies.

As per Hindustan Times, shops, fuel stations, and businesses remained closed in Srinagar and other districts. Public transport was scarce. Only essential services operated, and private vehicles plied the roads cautiously. Private schools suspended classes, while Kashmir University postponed all examinations. The silence that enveloped the Valley was not one of fear but of collective mourning—an unspoken but palpable declaration of unity against the forces that sought to terrorise the region.

Throughout the day, spontaneous and organised protests emerged in all corners of Kashmir. In Srinagar’s Lal Chowk, Mehbooba Mufti joined grieving citizens in a rare display of civilian solidarity. Holding placards that read “Stop innocent killings” and “Killing innocents is an act of terror,” protesters demanded accountability and protection. Addressing the crowd, Mufti said, “This massacre is not just an attack on tourists, but an attack on the very soul of Kashmir. We have always stood against violence, and we will continue to raise our voice until the bloodshed ends.”

Killing innocents is an act of terror. Jammu & Kashmir stands against it. This attack is an attack on all of us. pic.twitter.com/Kc7BiesI4C

— Iltija Mufti (@IltijaMufti_) April 23, 2025

No to Killings. No to Terror. We stand in shame and sorrow. #PahalgamTerroristAttack pic.twitter.com/pP6lY0oyl8

— Yasir Reshi (@YasirrReshi) April 23, 2025

South Kashmir towns like Anantnag, Kulgam, and Shopian saw markets voluntarily shut down. In Ganderbal and Kangan, traders staged processions through town squares, closing their establishments in mourning. Civil society participation was overwhelming. The Mutahida Majlis Ulema (MMU)—a collective of Islamic scholars led by Hurriyat Conference chairman Mirwaiz Umar Farooq—issued a rare joint appeal for peace and justice. Quoting the Quran during Friday prayers, the Mirwaiz said: “Whoever kills an innocent soul… it is as if he had slain mankind entirely.” He urged the people to observe the shutdown not in vengeance but as a dignified protest against a “heinous crime against humanity.”

#WATCH | J&K | Locals hold a protest against #PahalgamTerrorAttack in Pulwama. pic.twitter.com/Gmgz1y8eE6

— ANI (@ANI) April 23, 2025

#WATCH | In light of the tragic killing of innocent civilians by terrorists in Pahalgam, government employees across Jammu and Kashmir observe a two-minute silence as a mark of respect and solidarity

(Visuals from Jammu) pic.twitter.com/XMoCYHHfkW

— ANI (@ANI) April 23, 2025

Political parties that have often found themselves at ideological odds—National Conference (NC), Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), Peoples Conference, Apni Party—all joined in a chorus of condemnation, signalling a rare moment of political consensus in the Valley. Leaders across affiliations called for a unified approach to security, a reaffirmation of Kashmir’s commitment to peace, and a crackdown on the networks enabling such attacks.

On social media, heartbreak and solidarity flowed freely. A photo of a woman cradling her husband’s bloodied body outside a hospital in Anantnag became emblematic of the grief sweeping through the Valley. Tributes poured in not just for the tourists who perished, but for local guides, porters, and shopkeepers who died helping others flee.

#WATCH | Delhi | On Pahalgam terrorist attack, Senior advocate Kapil Sibal says, “Those responsible for this should be prosecuted in the international court. I urge the Home Minister to proscribe Pakistan as a terrorist state and move the International Criminal Court. I am sure… pic.twitter.com/eYHdRnUHRy

— ANI (@ANI) April 23, 2025

In Baramulla, hundreds gathered for a candlelight vigil led by students, while in Pulwama, elderly citizens marched silently, holding signs that read “We are Kashmiris, not terrorists.” In Budgam, schoolteachers and parents formed human chains outside education offices, denouncing the return of fear in a region already battered by decades of trauma.

Significantly, for the first time since the abrogation of Article 370 in 2019, the administration did not clamp down on protest rallies. Officials confirmed that while security was heightened across sensitive areas, demonstrations were allowed to proceed. “We recognised that this was not an ordinary political agitation. This is a collective tragedy,” a senior police officer said. “The public anger is real, it is justified—and today, the people of Kashmir have made it clear: they reject terror in all its forms.”

The day-long shutdown, though sombre, was not a surrender to fear. It was a powerful, united act of remembrance and resistance—a statement that Kashmiris will not let violence define them. 

Other reports on the Pahalgam terror attack may be read here and here,

Related:

Muslims in Kashmir & across India strongly condemn Pahalgam terror attack

Indian Muslims, others, condemn the heinous massacre of tourists near Pahalgam, Kashmir

The post A Tranquil Paradise Shattered: The Pahalgam terror attack appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Thirty-six-year-old Dnyaneshwari Anjan, a practising advocate at the Ambajogai Sessions Court, had reportedly approached the police with a complaint about loudspeakers blaring from a nearby temple, as well as the constant disturbance from three flour mills installed near her home. Villagers, including the sarpanch (village head) however claim that she was a persistent (and often exaggerated complaint), sometimes even filing false complaints! Her claim that the persistent noise triggered migraines and caused her physical distress brought her violent retribution. Instead of any attempts at dialogue with her, detractors resorted to what, increasingly is seen, vigilante violence.

On the morning of April 19, 2025, Anjan was attacked by her village sarpanch and at least nine of his supporters. According to her account, they dragged her to a farm and formed a circle around her, beating her with wooden sticks and plastic pipes—including on her head—until she nearly lost consciousness. The photos of her severely bruised and battered back, which she later shared publicly, went viral on social media, igniting an outcry among civil society, and opposition leaders.

An attack orchestrated by power and patriarchy

This was not a spontaneous act of rage—it was a deliberate, orchestrated punishment for speaking up. Anjan revealed that prior to the attack, the sarpanch had visited her house and told her parents to “reprimand” her, as though her assertion of rights was a form of insubordination. An FIR was registered a full day after the assault, under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), including sections for rioting (Section 191(2)), assault to outrage modesty (Section 74), unlawful assembly (Section 189), criminal intimidation (Section 351(2)), and voluntarily causing grievous hurt by dangerous means (Section 118(2)). And yet, as of the last update, none of the accused had been arrested. The police at Yusuf Wadgaon station claimed that search teams had been formed, but the perpetrators remain at large—shielded, perhaps, by political proximity or the comfort of knowing that consequences are rarely swift for those who harm women.

Political firestorm, but no real action

Opposition leaders were quick to condemn the incident. Maharashtra Congress chief Harshvardhan Sapkal declared it a “proof” of the BJP-led government’s failure to ensure women’s safety, stating, “If a woman lawyer is not safe, what about ordinary citizens?” He added that the lawyer was taken to a farm and mercilessly beaten till she fell unconscious, demanding the arrest of the accused and accountability from Devendra Fadnavis, who also holds the home portfolio.

Amol Kolhe, NCP (Sharad Pawar faction) MP, called the incident a “blot on a progressive state like Maharashtra”, invoking the legacy of icons like Jijabai, Ahilyabai Holkar, and Savitribai Phule, and pointing to the collapsed law and order under the BJP-Shiv Sena-NCP alliance. As per Hindustan Times, he added, “Instead of working for the people, alliance leaders are busy fighting among themselves for power.”

Even as the outrage spread online, with photos of Anjan’s injuries making the rounds, the BJP led Maharashtra state government’s silence has been deafening. As public confidence in the state’s protection mechanisms erodes, what is left is the image of a woman lawyer—bruised, nearly broken—punished for doing what the law allows: filing a complaint.

A female advocate was brutally beaten by Sarpanch and his accomplice at Beed District of Maharashtra. Beed again news for wrong reasons#Beed #beednews #Maharashtra pic.twitter.com/QftUfGeCbR

— Tikam Shekhawat (@TikamShekhawat) April 18, 2025

From Beed to Delhi: A wider crisis of safety for women in law

What makes the Beed incident even more disturbing is that it is not isolated. Just days earlier, in Delhi, a woman Judicial Magistrate was subjected to a shocking episode of intimidation and abuse—this time within the confines of her own courtroom.

After convicting an accused in a cheque bounce case under Section 138 of the Negotiable Instruments Act, Judicial Magistrate Shivangi Mangla recorded in her official court order that the accused and his lawyer hurled abuses, made death threats, and attempted to hurl an object at her. The convict told her, in open court, “Tu hai kya cheez… tu bahar mil, dekhte hain kaise zinda ghar jaati hai”—a direct threat to her life.

The lawyer, Atul Kumar, joined his client in pressuring the magistrate to resign and reverse her judgment. Judge Mangla noted that the harassment continued beyond the courtroom, including psychological pressure to quit her post. In her courageous response, she announced her intent to approach the National Commission for Women, and also issued a show cause notice to the lawyer, asking why criminal contempt proceedings should not be initiated against him.

Here was a woman judge, upholding the law of the land, being told she might not “make it home alive” for doing her job.

A systemic pattern of violence and intimidation

What connects Dnyaneshwari Anjan in Beed and Shivangi Mangla in Delhi is not just their profession—it’s the price they paid for exercising their legal rights and authority. In one case, a complaint. In another, a conviction. In both cases, the state’s promise of safety and institutional protection crumbled in the face of patriarchal rage and unchecked power.

It is not enough to call these “rare” or “shocking.” They are part of a wider pattern of systemic violence against women—especially those who step outside domestic spaces and challenge the authority of men in politics, religion, and even the courtroom.

What is at stake is the integrity of the legal system itself, the right to justice, and the belief that the rule of law can protect us.

Conclusion: When the protectors are left unprotected

The brutal assault on Dnyaneshwari Anjan and the threats against Judge Shivangi Mangla should not be seen as two separate news items—they are symptoms of the same disease. A society where women in legal professions are met with violence, abuse, and threats, simply for doing what the law entitles them to do, is a society teetering on the edge of lawlessness.

Where is the urgency in the state’s response? Where is the accountability from those in power? Notably, both the states where these incidents took place are being governed by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) government. When perpetrators feel empowered enough to attack lawyers and threaten magistrates, they are signalling something far more dangerous—that they believe the law is on their side, or at least will look the other way.

Related:

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Surviving Communal Wrath: Women who have defied the silence, demanded accountability from the state

The post Beed to Delhi: Lawyer beaten in Maharashtra, judge threatened in Delhi—what the path for justice means for women practioners in today’s India appeared first on SabrangIndia.

But this was not just a case about signage or statutory interpretation. It was about what place Urdu—and by extension, linguistic and cultural minorities—continue to hold in the Indian republic. Authored by Justice Sudhanshu Dhulia, who presided over the bench of the Supreme Court along with Justice K. Vinod Chandran, the judgment blends legal clarity with cultural wisdom, and reads as much like a constitutional essay as a judicial opinion. It situates the question of language within the broader context of Indian history, identity, and fraternity—invoking not only statutory text but the spirit of the Constitution, the debates of the Constituent Assembly, and the lived realities of India’s multilingual people.

What emerges is not just a dismissal of an exclusionary petition, but a powerful defence of linguistic harmony, cultural coexistence, and the right of every Indian language—especially those spoken by minorities—to be seen, heard, and respected.

The judgment begins with a line from Mouloud Benzadi that sets the tone for what follows:

“When you learn a language, you don’t just learn to speak and write a new language. You also learn to be open-minded, liberal, tolerant, kind and considerate towards all mankind.”

Facts of the case

The petition was filed by Mrs Varshatai, a former member of the Municipal Council, who objected to the use of Urdu in any form, including on signage. Her argument was that the Maharashtra Local Authorities (Official Languages) Act, 2022, permitted only Marathi. The Municipal Council had earlier rejected her plea by a majority resolution dated February 14, 2020, noting that the use of Urdu had been longstanding—since 1956—and that a significant portion of the town’s population was Urdu-speaking.

The appellant then moved an application under Section 308 of the Maharashtra Municipal Councils Act, 1965, before the Collector, who allowed it, citing a government circular that mandated 100% use of Marathi in government proceedings. However, this was later set aside by the Divisional Commissioner, leading to a challenge before the Bombay High Court, which dismissed her petition. She then filed a Special Leave Petition (SLP) before the Supreme Court.

During the pendency of the case, the 2022 Act came into force. In an earlier round, the Supreme Court disposed of the SLP, stating that the High Court order may not stand in light of the new law but leaving it open to the aggrieved party to seek appropriate remedy. The matter was then heard afresh by a division bench of the High Court, whose ruling in favour of the Municipal Council was challenged once again—bringing the issue back before the Supreme Court.

The final decision, delivered on April 15, 2025, rejected the challenge and upheld the High Court’s ruling.

The legal position and the Court’s reasoning

The Supreme Court first dealt with a procedural infirmity in how the challenge to the Municipal Council’s resolution was brought about. The appellant had approached the Collector under Section 308 of the Maharashtra Municipal Councils Act, 1965, seeking suspension of the Council’s decision to retain Urdu on its signboard. However, a crucial amendment to Section 308 in 2018 had changed the law: after this amendment, the Collector can no longer act on complaints made by individuals or councillors, even if they were former members. The power to bring a resolution to the Collector’s attention rests solely with the Chief Officer of the Municipal Council.

The Court made this limitation clear:

“After the amendment… the Collector can exercise powers only when the Chief Officer of the Municipal Council brings it to the Collector’s notice… In this case, the application was admittedly not made by the Chief Officer… which should not have been entertained in the first place.” [Para 11]

In other words, the entire chain of proceedings initiated by the petitioner before the Collector was legally untenable from the outset, as she had no standing under the amended law to invoke the Collector’s jurisdiction. This aspect alone could have disposed of the case. However, given the persistence of the challenge and the deeper constitutional concerns it raised, the Court moved to examine the substance of the matter as well.

At the heart of the substantive issue was the interpretation of the Maharashtra Local Authorities (Official Languages) Act, 2022—a law that declares Marathi as the official language for all local government bodies in the state. The petitioner’s argument hinged on a narrow and rigid reading of this Act—that once Marathi was declared the official language, the use of any other language, including Urdu, became impermissible.

The Court decisively rejected this interpretation, emphasising that the Act mandates the use of Marathi for official communication, but does not prohibit the use of additional languages for supplementary or public-facing purposes, such as signboards. It quoted the High Court’s clear reading of the law:

“All that [the Act] does, is to ensure that the business and affairs of the Council, are to be conducted in Marathi language… it does not prohibit use of an additional language… the use of an additional language… would not indicate any violation of the provisions of the Act of 2022.” [Para 14]

The Supreme Court agreed with this view, observing:

“The High Court to our mind rightly concluded that the 2022 Act, on which the appellant placed significant reliance, does not prohibit the use of an additional language, which is Urdu in the present case, on the signboard of the Municipal Council building.” [Para 15]

This distinction—between mandating a language and prohibiting others—is constitutionally important. The 2022 Act ensures that Marathi is used, but does not insist that it be used exclusively. As such, Urdu can co-exist on a signboard without violating the law.

Further, the Court reframed the debate entirely by shifting attention from legality to constitutional purpose. Why use Urdu at all? The Court’s answer was simple but deeply rooted in the values of inclusivity and effective governance:

“The purpose here for the use of Urdu is merely communication. All the municipal council wanted to do was to make an effective communication.” [Para 19]

This clarity of purpose is crucial. The use of Urdu on the signboard was not a political gesture or an assertion of religious identity. It was a functional, inclusive, and locally appropriate decision, intended to reach and welcome a section of the population that reads Urdu. The Court highlighted that this was neither new nor radical—Urdu had been used on the Patur Municipal Council’s signage since 1956.

Finally, in what is arguably the most important paragraph in terms of grounding the decision in the lived realities of governance and citizenship, the Court stated:

“Coming to the present case, it must be stated that a Municipal Council is there to provide services to the local community of the area and cater to their immediate day-to-day needs. If people or a group of people, residing within the area covered by the Municipal Council are familiar with Urdu, then there should not be any objection if Urdu is used in addition to the official language i.e. Marathi, at least on the signboard of the Municipal Council. Language is a medium for exchange of ideas that brings people holding diverse views and beliefs closer and it should not become a cause of their division.” [Para 46]

This is where the Court moved beyond a narrow legal resolution and reminded the petitioner—and the country—that language, at its best, is a bridge, not a barrier. The Municipal Council exists to serve the community—not to assert a singular linguistic identity at the cost of alienating others. If part of the community reads Urdu, there is no reason—legal, moral, or constitutional—to exclude it from a signboard.

By recognising this, the Court reclaimed the space of local governance as one that is responsive to local needs, identities, and realities, not one dictated by abstract notions of linguistic nationalism.

A powerful history lesson

Where this judgment truly shines is in its cultural, historical, and constitutional depth. The Court does not stop at interpreting a statutory provision or addressing procedural irregularities. It goes much further—into the idea of language as identity, as history, and as belonging. In doing so, it delivers a clear and courageous rebuke to the growing communalisation of Urdu and the false binaries that have been constructed around it.

The Court directly confronts the widespread tendency to associate Urdu with Islam, and to treat it as a foreign or sectarian language. It challenges this prejudice head-on by making a series of powerful and clarifying declarations. Perhaps the most quoted and impactful of them is this:

“Let our concepts be clear. Language is not religion. Language does not even represent religion. Language belongs to a community, to a region, to people; and not to a religion.” [Para 17]

This simple but profound line dismantles the politicised narrative that seeks to conflate Urdu with a religious identity. It restores to language its proper meaning—not as a marker of religious belonging, but as a tool of expression, identity, memory, and connection. Language, the Court reminds us, cannot be confined to a single group or cast as exclusive to one faith.

The Court deepens this point by offering a civilisational and cultural defence of Urdu, recognising it as a product of the ganga-jamuni tehzeeb—India’s long-standing tradition of cultural syncretism, particularly in the northern and central plains.

“Language is culture. Language is the yardstick to measure the civilizational march of a community and its people. So is the case of Urdu, which is the finest specimen of ganga-jamuni tahzeeb, or the Hindustani tahzeeb, which is the composite cultural ethos of the plains of northern and central India. But before language became a tool for learning, its earliest and primary purpose will always remain communication.” [Para 18]

By invoking this shared cultural history, the Court reclaims Urdu as Indian, not just linguistically but emotionally and historically. It reminds us that Urdu is not a cultural intruder—it is a civilisational creation, a language born out of coexistence, shared spaces, and mutual exchange. The judgment acknowledges that Urdu’s elegance, refinement, and poetic tradition are the legacies of this syncretic past, which the Constitution was meant to preserve, not erase.

The Court also situates this discussion in constitutional history, tracing how Hindi and Urdu were not seen as oppositional or incompatible during the freedom movement and in the early years of the republic. Instead, they were regarded as two forms of the same evolving language—Hindustani—that could serve as a common national medium. The Court draws on the work of Granville Austin, whose scholarship on the Constituent Assembly debates and post-independence linguistic compromise is widely regarded as authoritative.

Referring to the language debates before and after Partition, the Court notes:

“Partition killed Hindustani and endangered the position of English and the provincial languages in the Constitution.” [Para 34]

This line, taken from Austin, captures the tragic turning point at which a shared language—Hindustani, made up of both Hindi and Urdu—was discarded, and its components polarised. Urdu, in particular, bore the brunt of this rupture. The judgment acknowledges that post-Partition nationalism rejected Urdu not because of linguistic reasons but because of political and communal ones—a move that was neither just nor historically accurate.

The Court quotes Jawaharlal Nehru, who had been a staunch advocate of Hindustani as the people’s language—a bridge between Hindi and Urdu, and a language capable of uniting India’s many regions:

“Hindustani (Hindi or Urdu)… is bound to become the all-India medium of communication, not displacing the great provincial languages, but as a compulsory second language.” [Para 31]

This vision—of Hindustani as an inclusive, flexible, people’s language—was derailed by Partition, but the judgment shows that it remains constitutionally relevant even today. By citing Nehru, the Court not only restores this vision but places its ruling in a long constitutional arc that includes freedom movement ideals, the Constituent Assembly’s balancing act, and post-independence compromises.

The judgment also brings in Mahatma Gandhi, who warned against linguistic purism and the dangers of reducing language to a narrow, communal identity. Gandhi understood language as dynamic and inclusive, and his approach to Hindustani reflected this. The Court quotes him with quiet force:

“To confine oneself exclusively to Hindi or Urdu would be a crime against intelligence and the spirit of patriotism.” [Para 36]

Gandhi’s words underscore that linguistic plurality was never seen as a threat to national unity—it was the foundation of it. In quoting both Nehru and Gandhi, the Court implicitly argues that today’s efforts to banish Urdu from public spaces are not just unconstitutional—they are a betrayal of the nation-building vision of those who fought for India’s independence.

Together, these references and insights make this portion of the judgment a masterclass in cultural constitutionalism. It does not approach the question of language as a dry administrative matter, but as a living symbol of India’s diversity—something that must be protected not just by law, but by respect, memory, and a shared sense of belonging.

By restoring Urdu to its rightful place—as an Indian language, a people’s language, and a constitutional language—the Court reaffirms that inclusion, not exclusion, is the heart of our constitutional identity.

Debunking the myth that Urdu is alien

One of the most important contributions of this judgment is the way it confronts and dismantles the deep-rooted prejudice against the Urdu language—a prejudice that has been allowed to flourish in public discourse, often unchallenged. The Court recognises that the hostility towards Urdu is not grounded in linguistic fact, but in a political fiction, born out of Partition-era anxieties and perpetuated by majoritarian narratives.

In a critical passage, the Court squarely addresses and rebuts the idea that Urdu is somehow foreign or un-Indian:

“The prejudice against Urdu stems from the misconception that Urdu is alien to India… Urdu, like Marathi and Hindi, is an Indo-Aryan language. It is a language which was born in this land.” [Para 27]

This statement is not only accurate in terms of linguistic classification—Urdu, like Hindi and Marathi, evolved from Prakrit and Apabhramsha and belongs to the same Indo-Aryan family—but also essential in its rejection of the false notion that Urdu is inherently Islamic. The Court affirms what should be a basic and accepted truth: that Urdu is Indian in its origins, Indian in its development, and Indian in its usage.

It goes further to remind us that Urdu arose from real, lived interactions among people in India—particularly in the north and centre of the country—where different communities needed to communicate across linguistic and cultural lines. Over centuries, this led to the development of a sophisticated, inclusive, and adaptable language, enriched by multiple traditions and serving as a lingua franca in many regions. In fact, it was not born out of exclusivism, but out of coexistence.

The Court then makes a subtle but powerful observation about the everyday presence of Urdu, especially in the speech of people who may not even recognise its origins:

“Even today, the language used by the common people of the country is replete with words of the Urdu language, even if one is not aware of it.” [Para 37]

This insight challenges the idea that Urdu is used only by a particular religious or social group. On the contrary, the vocabulary of Urdu has become so woven into the fabric of everyday Hindi and Indian speech that it is impossible to separate the two without distorting both. From the language of friendship and affection to politics and cinema, Urdu has left a profound mark.

The Court also offers a striking example of how deeply entrenched Urdu is in the Indian legal system. It lists several key legal terms that are of Urdu origin and are still widely used in courts across the country—even in the Supreme Court, where the official language is English. The judgment notes:

“Urdu words have a heavy influence on Court parlance… Adalat, halafnama, peshi, vakalatnama, dasti…” [Para 38]

These are not minor or incidental terms. They are core procedural and functional terms used in both civil and criminal proceedings, known to every lawyer, judge, and litigant across India. ‘Adalat’ (court), ‘halafnama’ (affidavit), ‘peshi’ (appearance), ‘vakalatnama’ (power of attorney), and ‘dasti’ (by hand)—these are foundational building blocks of legal vocabulary.

This point is underscored further in the next line:

“Even though the official language of the Supreme Court… is English, yet many Urdu words continue to be used in this Court till date.” [Para 38]

In making this observation, the Court underlines an important irony: Urdu is being spoken, written, and relied upon at the highest levels of India’s judiciary, even as efforts continue in some quarters to stigmatise it. This lived reality gives lie to the claim that Urdu is somehow alien or inappropriate for official or legal use.

Together, these points form a comprehensive and compelling rebuttal of the misconceptions surrounding Urdu. The Court not only reaffirms that Urdu is as Indian as any other regional language, but also that it remains active, visible, and essential—not just culturally, but administratively and judicially.

Language as a bridge—not a weapon

In one of the segments of the judgment, the Court engages deeply with linguistic scholarship to challenge the idea that Hindi and Urdu are separate languages. This part of the judgment goes beyond the immediate question of signage and moves into the realm of intellectual history and sociolinguistics, showing how the binary between Hindi and Urdu was not a natural evolution but a consciously created political divide.

To support this, the Court draws on the works of prominent scholars such as Gyan Chand Jain, Amrit Rai, Ram Vilas Sharma, and Abdul Haq—all of whom have extensively studied the origins, development, and mutual influence of Hindi and Urdu.

“It is absolutely clear that Urdu and Hindi are not two separate languages… Even though Urdu literature and Hindi literature are two different and independent literatures, Urdu and Hindi are not two different languages.” [Para 41]

“Hindi-Urdu are not two separate languages; they are basically one and the same… There are no two other languages in the world whose pronouns and verbs are one hundred per cent the same.” [Para 42]

This is an emphatic and almost scientifically framed observation—what unites Hindi and Urdu is not merely poetic sentiment but the structural bedrock of language. The judgment notes that while their scripts differ (Devanagari for Hindi, Perso-Arabic for Urdu), and while each has drawn vocabulary from different classical sources (Sanskrit for Hindi, Persian and Arabic for Urdu), their spoken forms remain nearly indistinguishable in everyday use across north India.

In referencing Amrit Rai’s influential work, the Court aligns itself with the understanding that Hindi and Urdu emerged from the same linguistic root—Hindavi or Hindustani—and that the divide between them was sharpened over the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, not by natural evolution but by colonial language policies and post-Partition communal politics. Amrit Rai’s thesis, A House Divided, showed how political forces came to assign communal identities to languages that had once coexisted fluidly.

The judgment does not stop at historical analysis—it goes further to expose the consequences of this artificially constructed divide. By making language a marker of religious identity, a shared cultural and linguistic inheritance was fractured. Urdu came to be falsely viewed as “Muslim”, and Hindi as “Hindu”—a split that ignored centuries of shared grammar, mutual influence, and bilingual expression in the public sphere.

These scholarly citations give the judgment a rare academic depth. It is unusual—though deeply welcome—for the judiciary to cite literary historians and linguists so prominently. And yet, in doing so, the Court performs a vital task: it returns the conversation about language to the terrain of fact, scholarship, and nuance, rather than leaving it to be defined by prejudice and politicised emotion.

And then, poetry

The judgment ends with a poetic flourish, quoting Iqbal Ashhar’s nazm where Urdu speaks for itself:

““urdu hai mirā naam maiñ ‘Khusrav’ kī pahelī

kyuuñ mujh ko banāte ho ta.assub kā nishāna

maiñ ne to kabhī ḳhud ko musalmāñ nahīñ maanā

dekhā thā kabhī maiñ ne bhī ḳhushiyoñ kā zamāna

apne hī vatan meñ huuñ magar aaj akelī

urdu hai mirā naam maiñ ‘Khusrav’ kī pahelī” [Para 48]

“Urdu is my name, I am the riddle of ‘Khusrav’

Do not hold me for your prejudices

I never considered myself a Muslim

I too have seen happier times

I feel like an outsider in my homeland today

Urdu is my name, I am the riddle of ‘Khusrav’”

The Court then reflects:

“Let us make friends with Urdu and every language. If Urdu was to speak for herself, she would say…” [Para 48]

A verse that speaks of belonging, alienation, and identity—reminding the reader that Urdu, like any other Indian language, asks not for supremacy, but for space to exist.

Why this judgment is important

This is more than a legal ruling—it is a profound affirmation of India’s constitutional soul. It reasserts that the Constitution protects not only freedom of religion, but freedom of language, identity, and culture. India’s commitment to pluralism is not merely symbolic—it is embedded in its constitutional text and historical experience. This judgment operationalises that commitment with clarity and courage.

It is important because:

• It clarifies the law, confirming that there is no legal bar on using additional languages like Urdu on public signboards under the 2022 Act.
• It safeguards linguistic and cultural rights, especially of minority communities, and affirms that state recognition does not require the exclusion of others.
• It dispels the myth that Urdu is alien, asserting its deep roots in India’s linguistic heritage and constitutional imagination.
• It confronts majoritarian narratives, refusing to allow language to be communalised or weaponised.

This judgment stands out for its clarity, depth, and conviction. It does not merely interpret a statute or settle a procedural flaw—it reaffirms foundational constitutional values. By recognising the legitimacy of linguistic diversity and rejecting efforts to erase or marginalise a language rooted in India’s soil, the Court has underscored that governance must serve all, not just the dominant voice. In doing so, it reminds us that the Constitution protects not just rights in the abstract, but the dignity of communities, cultures, and the many languages in which India speaks.

The complete judgment may be read here.

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The post “Urdu Is Not Alien”: Supreme Court reclaims the language’s place in the Indian Constitutional fabric appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The Beed police swiftly arrested two suspects, Vijay Rama Gavhane (aged 22) and Sriram Ashok Sagde (aged 24), both residents of the village, and detained two others for questioning. The officials believe the accused planted gelatin sticks inside the mosque, leading to the explosion. The suspects, engaged in well-digging work, allegedly diverted the explosives from their professional use to orchestrate the attack.

According to locals, tensions escalated on Saturday night during the ‘Sandal’ procession at the village dargah, a traditional event that draws participants from surrounding areas. An altercation broke out between Vijay Rama Gavhane, Sriram Ashok Sagde, and a group of Muslim youths. As per the report of Hindustan Times, the FIR states that communal slurs were exchanged, and Gavhane allegedly threatened, “Why is a mosque being built here? Destroy it, or else we will.”

The Mecca Masjid, where the blast occurred, is located close to the dargah Gavhane referred to. After the argument, villagers intervened, and the groups dispersed for the night. However, at approximately 2:30 am, Rashid Sayyad, the complainant in the case, was woken by the sound of an explosion. According to the FIR, several villagers then witnessed Gavhane and Sagde fleeing the scene.

STORY | Gelatin sticks trigger blast at mosque in Beed, no casualty; 2 held

READ: https://t.co/Q8IHnhWlpm

VIDEO:
(Source: Third Party) pic.twitter.com/6xevUV5bp1

— Press Trust of India (@PTI_News) March 30, 2025

Arrests and investigation

A case has been registered at Talwada police station under various sections of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), including those related to desecrating a place of worship, inciting communal discord, and illegal possession of explosives. Sections such as 298 (destruction, damage, or defilement of a place of worship or sacred object), 299 (deliberate and malicious acts that insult the religious beliefs of any group of people), 196 (actions or speech that promote enmity or hatred between groups), 326(g) (Mischief by injury, inundation, fire or explosive substance), 351(2) (criminal intimidation), 352 (intentional insults that incite a breach of peace), 61(2) (criminal conspiracy), 3(5) (joint criminal liability) of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS) have been used. Additional charges sections 3 (explosion likely to endanger life or property), 4 (making/keeping explosives with intent to endanger life or property), and 5 (making or possessing explosives under suspicious circumstances) of the Explosive Substances Act, 1908, have also been invoked. As per a report of Free Press Journal, forensic experts and bomb disposal teams have collected evidence, and the investigation continues to determine whether the attack was premeditated or part of a larger conspiracy.

The mosque caretaker, Sayyad Shammu, had spoken to media and confirmed that the accused had issued threats the previous day. The blast triggered outrage within the local Muslim community, leading to protests outside the Talwada police station demanding strict action against the perpetrators. In response, police imposed heightened security measures to prevent further unrest. Shops in the village remained closed in protest, but community leaders urged calm, emphasising the need for justice through legal channels.

Background of the accused

One of the arrested individuals, Vijay Rama Gavhane, lived near the mosque and had prior criminal records, including a case involving illegal arms possession. Police investigations have revealed that Gavhane, who had failed his Class X exams, worked as a well-digger in the village. His job involved using controlled explosions, making him familiar with handling gelatin sticks. A senior police officer confirmed that the accused misused their knowledge of explosives to carry out the attack.

Despite the village’s history of communal harmony, his actions suggest a pattern of radicalisation and extremist tendencies. Authorities are investigating whether external influences played a role in the attack. A now-deleted Instagram reel posted by Gavhane has also raised suspicions. In the video, he can be seen smoking in front of a bundle of gelatin sticks while a Marathi song played in the background, with lyrics translating to: “One should stay within limits. I am not less. I am the fire.” This revelation has intensified concerns that the attack was deliberate and ideologically motivated.

महाराष्ट्र के बीड की एक मस्जिद में बम ब्लास्ट हुआ

ब्लास्ट विजय और श्रीराम ने किया

ब्लास्ट करने से पहले विजय ने ये वीडियो इंस्टाग्राम पर शेयर किया था

एक हाथ में बम है, दूसरे हाथ में सिगरेट

यह ख़ौफ़ है क़ानून व्यवस्था और पुलिस का महाराष्ट्र में?

लानत है देवेंद्र फड़नवीस pic.twitter.com/ciG3qkmsGb

— Supriya Shrinate (@SupriyaShrinate) March 30, 2025

Systemic failures and the need for accountability

Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis, speaking in Nagpur during an event attended by Prime Minister Narendra Modi, acknowledged the blast and assured that the perpetrators would be brought to justice. Commenting on the explosion at the mosque in Beed, Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis stated, as quoted by ANI, “The information has been received, and we also know who was responsible. The concerned SP will provide further details.”

Beed Superintendent of Police Navneet Kanwat and Special Inspector General of Police Virendra Mishra visited the site to oversee the investigation and security arrangements. Local political leaders, including MLA Vijaysingh Pandit, appealed for peace, urging residents to let law enforcement conduct a thorough inquiry. However, the incident has raised larger questions about the increasing prevalence of communal attacks and the state’s ability to curb hate-driven violence.

This incident is not an isolated case but part of a troubling pattern of targeted attacks against religious minorities. The ease with which the accused accessed and used explosives points to glaring lapses in regulatory oversight. Additionally, the reluctance of authorities to categorise the incident as terrorism despite its clear intent to instil fear reflects a dangerous double standard in law enforcement.

While arrests have been made, the broader concern remains: will justice be served, or will this case fade into obscurity like other instances of anti-Muslim violence? The legal system must ensure that those responsible face the full extent of the law to prevent such acts from becoming more frequent.

The Beed mosque blast is a stark reminder that communal violence continues to threaten India’s social fabric. The government must move beyond routine arrests and conduct a thorough investigation into the motivations, networks, and ideological leanings that fuel such attacks. Without decisive action and systemic reform, impunity will only embolden further violence, deepening societal divisions and endangering the nation’s fragile communal harmony.

A tradition of shared festivities

Despite the attack on the mosque, local residents highlighted the long-standing tradition of celebrating festivals together in the village. According to a villager quoted by PTI, during the Gudi Padwa festival, Hindus customarily visit the Hazrat Sayyad Badshah Dargah near the mosque. The accused allegedly attempted to destroy the mosque using gelatin sticks just as preparations were underway for joint celebrations of Gudi Padwa and Ramzan Eid on Sunday.

Following the explosion, residents—who have coexisted peacefully for decades—came together to repair the mosque. A peace committee meeting was also convened in the village on Sunday morning to maintain communal harmony.

Political leaders condemn the attack

Samajwadi Party MLA Abu Asim Azmi squarely blamed the prevailing anti-Muslim rhetoric in political discourse for incidents like the Beed mosque blast. “Politicians are spewing venom against Muslims day in and day out,” Azmi remarked, criticising ministers for using inflammatory language. He further questioned why the accused were charged with minor offences under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS) and Indian Evidence Act (IEA), rather than being booked under the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA), a law frequently applied to Muslim activists and organisations. “Are they not terrorists? Will they face bulldozer justice? Will they be forced to compensate for the mosque’s destruction?” he asked, highlighting the apparent legal double standard, as per Scroll.

Asaduddin Owaisi, Member of Parliament and president of the All India Majlis-e-Ittehad-ul-Muslimeen (AIMIM), also condemned the attack, expressing concern that one of the accused had openly boasted about his role in the blast without fear of consequences. In a post on X (formerly Twitter), Owaisi pointed out that the accused seemed confident of being treated as a hero rather than a criminal, which speaks to the larger environment of impunity for anti-Muslim violence.

In Beed Maharashtra, on 29th March, 2:30 AM a masjid was targeted in a blast by Vijay Gavhane and Shriram Sagde. Vijay had even posted a video of himself with gelatine sticks. It’s clear that he’s confident of being treated as a hero. The masjid suffered grave damage and the…

— Asaduddin Owaisi (@asadowaisi) March 30, 2025

Beed MLA Sandeep Kshirsagar of the NCP (Sharad Pawar faction) and Georai MLA Vijaysingh Pandit visited the damaged mosque and urged residents to remain calm. Kshirsagar condemned the attack but offered no substantial critique of the government’s response.

Maharashtra Congress chief Harshvardhan Sapkal took a more direct stance, alleging that the blast was not an isolated incident but part of the ruling MahaYuti alliance’s broader agenda to incite communal violence. “Maharashtra, a state known for its progressive ethos, is being dragged into a crisis of communalism,” Sapkal stated, as per the Deccan Herald. He accused the BJP-led MahaYuti government of deliberately fostering unrest, employing a “divide-and-rule” strategy reminiscent of British colonial policies. “The ruling alliance wants to keep Maharashtra in a state of turmoil, and the Beed mosque blast fits into that larger motive,” he asserted. Sapkal also raised concerns about the deteriorating law and order situation under Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis, who also serves as the state’s home minister.

Accusation of selective justice

Legal experts have strongly criticised the state’s reluctance to invoke UAPA in this particular case, a law frequently used in terrorism-related cases. Supreme Court lawyer Javed Shaikh, speaking to the Free Press Journal, stated that the Beed explosion was an act of terrorism, making it a “clear-cut case” for UAPA charges. “In the past, the government has slapped UAPA charges on activists from the Popular Front of India (PFI) merely for participating in rallies. Here, we have an actual explosion inside a mosque, yet the state is hesitant to invoke UAPA. This selective application of anti-terror laws raises serious concerns about bias in law enforcement,” Shaikh argued.

Advocate A.K. Pathan questioned whether the authorities would conduct a thorough investigation into a possible larger conspiracy behind the attack. “There are forces working in the background to disrupt communal harmony. Will the state government ensure an impartial inquiry, or will it shield the perpetrators under political pressure?” he asked, as per FPJ.

The Beed mosque blast has reignited debates on how anti-terror laws are applied in India. While Muslim activists, students, and organisations have often faced UAPA charges for lesser offences, the state’s reluctance to use the same law against those accused of attacking a place of worship exposes a stark inconsistency. The demand for an NIA or ATS investigation is growing, with many questioning whether the government will ensure justice or allow the perpetrators to escape with minimal consequences.

The Beed Incident: A microcosm of Maharashtra’s escalating communal tensions

As per a report of the Hindustan Times, Maharashtra has witnessed a staggering 823 incidents of communal unrest since the beginning of 2024, reflecting a sharp escalation in religious tensions. According to state officials, communal violence has erupted across multiple districts, including Nagpur, Nandurbar, Pune (Rural), Ratnagiri, Sangli, Beed, and Satara. Many of these incidents have been linked to orchestrated campaigns by right-wing organisations demanding the demolition of Mughal emperor Aurangzeb’s tomb in Chhatrapati Sambhajinagar, alongside the circulation of distorted narratives on social media designed to provoke unrest.

Statistics paint a grim picture of the deteriorating communal climate in Maharashtra. Since January, 4,836 communal crimes involving Hindu-Muslim tensions have been recorded, including 170 cognisable and 3,106 non-cognisable cases. Of particular concern are 371 incidents related to religious insults, underscoring how targeted provocations are being used to stoke sectarian divisions.

In the first three months of 2024 alone, authorities registered 156 criminal cases in January, 99 in February, and 78 by mid-March in connection with communal unrest. 102 of these cases were deemed cognisable—meaning they involved serious offences requiring immediate police action. Despite these alarming numbers, there has been little political will to curb hate-driven mobilisation, allowing tensions to fester.

One must also remember the recent incident of communal violence that took place in in central Nagpur on March 17, when mobs went on a rampage following a protest organised by Bajrang Dal and Vishva Hindu Parishad (VHP). These groups were demanding the removal of Aurangzeb’s tomb, which they labelled a “symbol of pain and slavery.” The protest quickly turned into large-scale violence, with authorities identifying rumour-mongering and inflammatory content on social media as key triggers.

As per a report of Hindustan Times, Maharashtra Cyber Cell flagged 144 online posts across Facebook, Instagram, X (formerly Twitter), and YouTube that contained inflammatory content linked to the riots. Despite efforts to curb the spread of incitement—only 37 links were removed, while action was taken against 107—this digital hate machinery continues to fuel unrest.

The HT report further provides that incident of communal unrest has not been confined to traditionally sensitive areas. Even Maharashtra’s Konkan region, historically known for Hindu-Muslim harmony, has been shaken. In Rajapur, Ratnagiri, communal tensions flared when members of a Holi procession allegedly danced in front of Jama Masjid’s gate, damaging the structure while chanting religious slogans.

Right-wing narratives on social media immediately twisted the incident, falsely claiming that the mosque had been attacked, further escalating tensions. This pattern of provocation—using festivals as a pretext for targeted disruptions—has become alarmingly frequent.

Despite this, state officials continue to downplay the gravity of such incidents, insisting that Hindu-Muslim unity remains strong in Konkan and that such events are mere “aberrations.” However, this argument ignores a larger, deliberate trend—where once-peaceful areas are increasingly becoming sites of engineered communal flashpoints.

The Role of the State: Complicit or ineffective?

The recurring nature of these incidents across multiple districts points to a systemic failure—or worse, complicity—on the part of the state government. The selective application of the law is glaring. While harsh measures like UAPA have been used against Muslim activists for peaceful demonstrations, those openly instigating communal violence—whether on the streets or via digital platforms—continue to evade serious legal consequences.

Moreover, the administration’s failure to pre-emptively intervene despite clear warning signs—such as the circulation of incendiary social media content and mobilisations by right-wing groups—suggests a deliberate lack of political will. The growing normalisation of communal violence in Maharashtra underlines a dangerous shift: the state is no longer simply a passive observer but appears to be enabling and, in some cases, even facilitating these tensions.

The explosion at a mosque in Beed district of Maharashtra serves as yet another stark reminder of the escalating communal unrest across the state, following a troubling trend that has been unfolding since the beginning of the year. The Beed blast, which occurred amidst preparations for the joint celebration of Gudi Padwa and Ramzan Eid, is a culmination of rising religious tensions, exacerbated by right-wing propaganda and incendiary rhetoric from political figures.

This event mirrors broader patterns of communal violence seen in districts like Nagpur, Ratnagiri, and Satara, where attacks on religious sites and institutions have become disturbingly frequent. The explosion at Beed, allegedly orchestrated by local perpetrators using gelatin sticks, was intended to disrupt communal harmony during one of the most significant religious periods for both Hindus and Muslims. What makes the Beed attack particularly concerning is that it was preceded by a scuffle during a religious procession the previous night, which, according to locals, involved hate speech and threats of violence against the mosque.

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The post Gelatin blast at Mecca Mosque in Beed district ahead of festival celebrations, two arrested under BNS 2023 appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Amid heavy police security, civic authorities demolished a two-storey house of #Nagpurviolence key accused Fahim Khan over unauthorised construction, officials said.https://t.co/KUgWpxbvV8 pic.twitter.com/PxUxA0DgB8

— The Hindu (@the_hindu) March 24, 2025

#WATCH | Maharashtra: House of Nagpur violence accused Faheem Khan being demolished in Nagpur. Police personnel are present at the spot. pic.twitter.com/RKzAFCokED

— ANI (@ANI) March 24, 2025

Demolition of the house of Yusuf Sheikh, also an accused in the Nagpur violence case, was also reported on the same day.

#WATCH | Nagpur, Maharashtra: NMC’s (Nagpur Municipal Corporation) anti-encroachment squad demolishes the illegal construction of the house of Yusuf Sheikh, accused in the Nagpur violence case.

Visuals from Johripura, Mahal. pic.twitter.com/K1f9rbsWjL

— ANI (@ANI) March 24, 2025

It is essential to note that the Municipal authorities have claimed the demolition was carried out under the Maharashtra Regional and Town Planning (MRTP) Act, citing “unauthorised construction” as the reason. However, the selective and arbitrary nature of such demolitions raises serious questions about due process and the rule of law. Khan, who remains in judicial custody, is among more than 100 individuals—mostly Muslims—arrested in connection with the violence. Local residents have accused the police of bias and indiscriminate arrests, further deepening fears of state-sponsored communal targeting. The suggestions of there being biased enquiry into this violence can also viewed from the fact that the 11 members of the Vishwa Hindu Parishad and Bajrang Dal, who had allegedly burnt the effigy of Aurangzeb as well as a chadar from a local Dargah to demand the removal of the tomb of Aurangzeb, had been given bail hours after surrendering to the police.

In regards to the demolition of Fahim Khan’s house, Nagpur Municipal Corporation’s deputy engineer, Sunil Gajbhiye, asserted that the demolition was conducted after an “investigation” and a 24-hour notice issued under Section 53(1) of the MRTP Act. However, the absurdity of such rapid enforcement—especially when encroachments by politically influential individuals often remain untouched for decades—suggests that this was less about urban planning and more about political retribution.

#WATCH | Nagpur: “…We had the order to investigate into a complaint. We did a proper investigation. As per Sec 53(1) of the MRTP Act (Maharashtra Regional and Town Planning Act, 1966) a notice was issued for 24 hours. As soon as the duration completed, this action was… https://t.co/9eEE1GJsAm pic.twitter.com/6edPdYfegh

— ANI (@ANI) March 24, 2025

While Indian law does not permit property demolitions as a punitive measure, the BJP has increasingly used this tactic as an extrajudicial weapon against Muslims, particularly in cases of communal violence. Despite a Supreme Court stay on such measures, Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis brazenly justified the “bulldozer action,” declaring on March 22 that it would be used “wherever required.” He further stated that damage caused during the violence would be recovered from the accused, failing which their property would be seized and auctioned. The CM also alarmingly suggested that those accused of inciting violence through social media would be treated as co-accused, raising concerns about potential misuse of state power to silence dissent.

The government’s rhetoric has been disturbingly violent, with Maharashtra minister Pratap Sarnaik openly advocating for extrajudicial violence, stating, “The bulldozer should be run over him, not his house, if anyone is involved in such violent activities.” His remarks, reported by the Deccan Herald, reflect the growing normalisation of state brutality and the erosion of legal safeguards.

The pattern of bulldozer politics, seen recently in Sambhal and other BJP-governed regions, is not just a violation of legal norms but a deliberate strategy to intimidate and collectively punish Muslims. That such actions continue despite the Supreme Court’s directives underscores the growing impunity of state actors who use communal violence as a pretext to enforce their majoritarian agenda.

With at least 105 individuals arrested and multiple FIRs registered, the situation in Nagpur reveals a deeply disturbing reality: rather than upholding the principles of justice and accountability, the state is resorting to bulldozers and arbitrary punishment, sending a chilling message about whose rights matter in today’s India.

Lifting of curfew, multiple arrest and a fatality

It is also crucial to provide here that the communal violence that erupted in Nagpur on March 17 has now resulted in the death of a 38-year-old man, Irfan Ansari, who succumbed to his injuries at Indira Gandhi Government Medical College and Hospital on March 23. A welder by profession, Ansari had left home to catch a train to Itarsi in Madhya Pradesh but was caught in the chaos near Central Avenue. He was brutally attacked by a mob, sustaining severe head injuries. His family was informed only after the police took him to the hospital, where he briefly regained consciousness before succumbing to his wounds.

The Nagpur police have arrested a total of 105 individuals in connection with the violence, including 14 people, among them 10 minors, who were detained earlier this week. According to Deputy Commissioner of Police Lohit Matani, 13 cases have been registered, and multiple First Information Reports (FIRs) have been filed. Assistant Public Prosecutor Megha Burange confirmed that 19 accused individuals had been remanded in custody until March 24.

The violence occurred just hours after Hindutva groups held a demonstration demanding the removal of Mughal emperor Aurangzeb’s tomb in Chhatrapati Sambhaji Nagar. In response, authorities imposed prohibitory orders across 11 police station jurisdictions. While restrictions were gradually eased in some areas by March 21, the curfew was fully lifted on March 24, with police continuing to patrol sensitive localities.

Communal narratives and unverified claims of ‘Bangladeshi’ links

On Sunday, March 23, Shiv Sena leader Sanjay Nirupam had made unverified claims about the involvement of individuals linked to Bangladesh in the recent violence in Nagpur. At a press conference, Nirupam alleged that the unrest was “pre-meditated” and part of a larger conspiracy. He also accused one of the arrested individuals of using social media to fund “Mujahideen activities,” without providing any substantial evidence.

His statements took a political turn as he attacked the rival Shiv Sena (UBT), insinuating that its leaders were aligning with extremist elements. “Is the Sena (UBT) aligning itself with the Mujahideen? Are the Thackerays and (Sanjay) Raut supporting them?” he asked, attempting to stoke communal and political divisions. Furthering his rhetoric, he claimed that Uddhav Thackeray’s residence, Matoshree, would soon display a photo of Aurangzeb alongside those of Shiv Sena founder Bal Thackeray and Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj—an inflammatory remark aimed at discrediting the opposition.

The political exploitation of the violence has been evident in the statements of BJP allies like Sanjay Nirupam, who, instead of addressing the root causes of communal tensions, have chosen to push unverified claims of a “foreign hand” in the violence. His remarks, along with Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis’ endorsement of punitive bulldozer actions, signal a dangerous trend of targeting minorities under the pretext of law enforcement.

The use of such rhetoric not only undermines due process but also diverts attention from the failure of law enforcement to prevent the violence in the first place. The events in Nagpur mirror a broader pattern of state-sponsored impunity, where accountability is selectively applied, and majoritarian politics dictate justice.

Police action, alleged mastermind and multiple FIRs

The Maharashtra Police have booked six individuals, including Minorities Democratic Party leader Fahim Khan, on charges of sedition and spreading misinformation on social media. The accused are among 50 others named across four FIRs.

Authorities have charged primary suspect Fahim Khan with sedition, among other offences. Police records indicate that Khan allegedly coordinated a demonstration outside a Nagpur police station on March 17. His criminal history includes charges of electricity theft and participation in protests during 2023-2024.

According to the FIR, Khan led a group of 50 to 60 individuals who illegally assembled outside Ganeshpeth police station on Monday to submit a memorandum opposing an earlier Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP) protest. Officials stated that Khan and eight others later went to the Bhaldarpura area, where they found 500 to 600 people gathered near Shivaji Maharaj Chowk, which led to his arrest.’

Besides the sedition case, a separate FIR has been filed against individuals accused of editing videos of the protest against Aurangzeb, allegedly “glorifying violence” and circulating them online. Another case pertains to video clips allegedly made to incite communal clashes, while a third concerns social media posts that further fuelled tensions.

Deputy Commissioner of Police (Cyber Cell) Lohit Matani stated that misinformation was initially spread on social media, triggering the violence, followed by more videos that glorified it. “He [Fahim Khan] edited and circulated the video of the protest against Aurangzeb due to which the riots spread,” ANI quoted Matani as saying. “He also glorified violent videos.”

More than 120 people, including 11 minors, have been taken into custody, according to Commissioner Singal. Additionally, on March 19, Commissioner Singal had confirmed that investigations were ongoing to identify additional assailants and determine the involvement of individuals mentioned in the FIR regarding Khan’s suspected role in orchestrating the violence.

It is also being reported that the law enforcement has established 18 dedicated teams to pursue and capture those responsible for the unrest in Nagpur. According to a senior official, the police have identified 200 suspects and are working to determine the identities of 1,000 more individuals recorded on CCTV during the violence. Authorities have lodged five First Information Reports (FIRs) at Ganeshpeth and Kotwali police stations, naming 200 accused persons. Officials confirmed that they are reviewing CCTV recordings to identify additional participants.

As per a report of the Hindustan Times, Nagpur Commissioner of Police Dr Ravinder Kumar Singal briefed journalists about the special teams, which include personnel from Ganeshpeth, Kotwali, and Tehsil police stations, along with the Crime Branch. These teams are working in conjunction with the cyber cell to support the identification of suspects.

Aurangzeb’s tomb covered by tin sheets

In a related development, the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) on the night of March 19 had installed tin sheets around Aurangzeb’s tomb, following orders from the Chhatrapati Sambhaji Nagar district administration.

“The green net covering two sides of the tomb was in bad shape, and the structure was visible to those visiting the nearby Khwaja Syed Zainuddin Chishti grave,” an ASI official told PTI. “So we have installed tin sheets.”

The demand for the removal of Aurangzeb’s tomb has been intensifying in recent weeks, with Hindutva groups, including the VHP and Bajrang Dal, claiming that the structure is a “symbol of pain and slavery.”

Congress response to the violence and reports of state bias

On March 20, Maharashtra Congress chief Harshvardhan Sapkal had informed the media about forming a team of party leaders to visit the riot-affected areas of Nagpur. The delegation includes senior leaders such as Manikrao Thakare, Shomati Thakur, Hussain Dalwai, and Sajid Pathan. Nagpur district Congress chief Thakare will serve as the convenor, while AICC Secretary Praful Gudade Patil has been appointed as the coordinator.

Meanwhile, Maulana Shahabuddin Razvi, a cleric from the Barelvi sect, had written to Union Home Minister Amit Shah, seeking a ban on the film Chhava, alleging that it incited communal tensions and was directly responsible for the Nagpur violence.

Sequence of events and aftermath

The violence in Nagpur erupted hours after Hindutva groups held a protest in the city demanding the removal of Aurangzeb’s tomb. The clashes broke out at 7:30 pm in central Nagpur’s Chitnis Park, where stones were thrown at the police amid rumours that a cloth bearing the Islamic declaration of faith, known as the Kalma, had been burned during a Hindutva-led agitation.

Unidentified Bajrang Dal office-bearers told The Indian Express that its members had only burned an effigy of Aurangzeb during the protest. However, another clash erupted in Hansapuri, close to Chitnis Park, between 10:30 pm and 11:30 pm. The violence soon spread to Kotwali and Ganeshpeth areas, prompting the police to fire tear gas shells and resort to lathi charges to disperse the mobs. Prohibitory orders barring public gatherings were imposed within the limits of 11 police stations.

A preliminary survey found that over 60 vehicles were damaged in the violence, including 20 two-wheelers and 40 four-wheelers. Two cranes were also set on fire, with a construction company reporting a loss of Rs 70 lakh. Authorities announced that individuals whose vehicles were fully damaged would receive Rs 50,000, while those with partially damaged vehicles would be compensated with Rs 10,000. The said compensation is said to be given to the victims on March 25.

(A detailed report may be read here and here)

A disturbing precedent

The Nagpur violence and the state’s response underscore a disturbing trend of bulldozer justice, arbitrary arrests, and communalised governance. The punitive demolition of Fahim Khan’s house—while the state turns a blind eye to Hindutva organisations inciting violence—reveals a stark bias in law enforcement. Statements from ministers and ruling party leaders openly endorsing extrajudicial action further normalise the idea that the law can be bypassed when dealing with minorities.

This particular incident of demolition of the house of an accused belonging to a minority religious community is not the first incident that has taken place in Maharashtra after the BJP has formed the state government. On February 23, (Sunday) during the highly anticipated India-Pakistan Champions Trophy match 2025, a local passer-by, owing allegiance to the Vishwa Hindu Parisha (VHP), accused a 15-year-old boy from a Muslim scrap metal trading family of shouting “anti-India” slogans during the India-Pakistan cricket match. This event took place reportedly around 9:30 pm on February 23. Varadkar, while the complainant one Sachin Varadkar, was on his bike riding to a friend’s house and claimed to have overheard the boy and a group of others shouting what he described as “anti-India” slogans. Later that evening, when passing by the area again, Sachin Varadkar reportedly saw the boy cycling and chose to confront him. What initially seemed like a minor disagreement quickly escalated, with Varadkar allegedly taking the matter to the authorities.

The situation intensified three days later when the boy was apprehended, his parents arrested, and their scrap shop demolished following complaints from locals. Just like in Nagpur, state sponsored illegal action in the name of demotions had taken place Muslim accused with following the due procedure of law. (Detailed story on the Malvan demolition may be read here.)

The broader context of the Nagpur violence reflects an alarming state strategy: use communal tensions as a pretext for aggressive law enforcement against one community while shielding provocateurs from accountability. This pattern not only erodes faith in the justice system but also contributes to deepening social divisions in Maharashtra and beyond.

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