#dnaedit: Musclemen of the law

If found guilty, 25-year-old Agnelo Valdaris would have served a maximum of three-year prison term in an alleged chain-snatching case. But his life was snuffed out, allegedly in Government Railway Police’s custody, even before he could be tried. As per the statements given by his three accomplices — one of them a minor — Valdaris succumbed to injuries received during interrogations conducted by 10 police personnel, one of whom is a woman officer. All four of them were subjected to horrific treatment, including sexual abuse. The police, of course, have a different version, which states that the young man died while trying to escape from their custody.

Not many are inclined to buy the police story, given Maharashtra’s abysmal record in custodial deaths. Between 2010 and 2013, the state had witnessed as many as 85 deaths — the highest in the country. In the three years preceding 2009, police highhandedness during interrogation claimed 69 lives — testifying to the extra-judicial means employed in lock ups. Only Uttar Pradesh comes anywhere close to Maharashtra, though the situation in neighbouring Gujarat is scary as well. 

In India where flagrant violations of human rights is a routine affair — in 2011-12 alone, the National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) registered 94,985 such cases — custodial violence often resulting in deaths are bound to increase. Even when the Supreme Court has categorically stated that custodial deaths are graver than murders, the guilty are rarely punished. Late last year, shocked at the growing incidence of deaths in lock-ups and jails throughout the country — nearly 12,000 died between 2008 and 2013 — the apex court came down heavily on the Centre and states for not implementing the guidelines it issued way back in 1996 to curb police excesses. What’s equally disconcerting is the sluggish pace of investigations into custodial deaths. Of the 85 cases in Maharashtra between 2010 and 2013, 54 are still pending with the NHRC. Shockingly, only in one such case the Commission has asked the state government to initiate criminal proceedings against the erring official.

In the prevailing scenario, it is only natural that the force revels in a strong sense of immunity, seldom flinching from resorting to third-degree torture to extract confessions. With politicians as patrons and a bureaucracy reluctant to comply with legal procedures, there is little for the police to fear — angry protests of human rights groups and a vigilant media can achieve only so much. Ironically, even with such brutal tactics, the state police’s performance in solving serious crimes is one of the lowest in the country. 
There is still no substantial proof that Valdaris’s case will be treated with urgency and justice will prevail. Apart from his death, there is also the matter of sexual abuse.

The Railway Police has instituted a departmental inquiry while the CID is simultaneously conducting a probe, but the inherent flaws in the procedure might turn it into a familiar story, with the men-in-uniform walking away scot-free. The system is clearly loaded against the civilians. The three complainants had to visit the same police station, where they had been tortured, for their statements to be recorded in Valdaris’s custodial-death probe. Faced with threats from the accused, the trio is understandably scared, but they are determined to pursue the case. 

Corrupt to the boot, unfriendly to the very people they are supposed to serve, and sometimes murderous — law enforcers in Maharashtra have a long way to go before they can hope to win the love and trust of the common man.