#dnaEdit: Brute force

In April, 2014, two incidents of alleged custodial deaths within a week had dominated headlines. In both instances, the victims were in their twenties: Agnello Valdaris was arrested for allegedly snatching a gold chain; Akash Kharade had been booked in a murder case. Their lives were snuffed out before their cases could be tried. In the face of outrage and widespread condemnation, the government’s response to alleged brutalities by the men-in-uniform was hardly reassuring. In Maharashtra, police excesses, often leading to deaths, is an inescapable reality. Neither the force’s top brass nor the state administration seems perturbed by the gross violations of human rights. Little wonder then that in 2013 alone, Maharashtra had witnessed 34 deaths in police lock-ups — the highest in the country, as per the latest National Crime Records Bureau’s data. Four more had died when they were being produced in court, during a trial or at the time of investigations.

Last year’s figures testify to a long legacy of violence behind bars. In the 13 years since 2001, the state had topped the annual list of custodial deaths 10 times — scary and worrisome in its consistency. One might argue that a harried force battling widespread crime was forced to resort to extra-judicial means. But that logic falls flat on its face because Maharashtra is relatively peaceful compared to most other states.

Ranked 19th in terms of incidence of crime, it contributes to only 8.5 per cent of all cognisable crimes committed in the country. Why then such high-handedness and murderous tendencies? The answer lies in the immunity the police enjoy. Political patronage comes in the form of protection from adversities that reckless actions might precipitate. Over the years, tacit approval to barbarity has emboldened the police and served to institutionalise crime in uniform. While 330 custodial deaths had taken place in the state since 1999, not one policeman has been convicted. Though 19 cops have been charge-sheeted in all these 14 years, the outcome will most likely favour the accused, which means they are either let off with a light punishment or simply allowed to go scot-free.

Even Bombay high court’s scathing observation questioning these fatal tactics has failed to chastise the law-enforcers or bring about any visible change in their modi operandi. Drunk on power and determined to extract confessions, they bend the law at will. The custodians of law are secure in the belief that all is “fair” in the line of duty.

There is little hope that the well-entrenched system of torture in police custody is going to change anytime soon. A pan-India phenomenon, Tamil Nadu, Uttar Pradesh, Gujarat and West Bengal police are guilty of similar crimes — accounting for 48 deaths in 2013, says the NCRB report. Worsening matters is the lack of political will to rein in the police, which has queered the pitch for reforms. In spite of being a signatory to the United Nations Convention Against Torture and other Cruel, Inhuman or Degrading Treatment or Punishment, India has failed to ratify it. The Prevention of Torture bill, 2010, in tune with the UN efforts to prevent torture and cruelty, is gathering dust. It would have been an effective weapon against encounter killings and custodial deaths. Today, such is the reputation of the police, thanks to the notoriety of a handful of people in the force, that even law-abiding citizens view them with fear and suspicion. That image can change only if the police behave in a responsible and humane manner.