From a Force of the State to a Police of the People: Who Made the Indian Police Brutal, and How Can It Be Democratised?

 

From a Force of the State to a Police of the People: Who Made the Indian Police Brutal, and How Can It Be Democratised?

SR Darapuri I.P.S.(Retd) 

 

“The Indian police remains structurally a colonial “force of the state” designed for control rather than a democratic “police of the people,” and its brutality is sustained by that legacy plus post-independence political choices, institutional culture, and near-total impunity.” Transforming it requires implementing long-ignored structural reforms, new accountability mechanisms, and cultural change.

 Colonial Origins: Designed for Coercion, Not Service

The modern Indian police system was shaped after the 1857 Rebellion. The Police Act of 1861 (still the foundational law in most states) created a hierarchical, paramilitary-style force modelled on the Royal Irish Constabulary. Its purpose was to maintain order, suppress dissent, protect colonial interests, and control a “hostile native population,” not to serve citizens or uphold rights.

Key features included:

- Strong executive control (political superintendence) with little independent oversight.

- Emphasis on armed capacity and intelligence over community-oriented or investigative policing.

- Broad discretionary powers for arrest, detention, and use of force.

- Targeting of marginalised groups (nomadic communities via the Criminal Tribes Act 1871 and similar measures, lower castes, and others seen as threats).

Torture and violence were common tools for extracting information or enforcing control. This architecture and ethos were largely retained after 1947. Multiple post-Independence commissions noted the mismatch with democratic constitutional values but produced limited change.

 Post-Independence Continuities: Who Sustained the Brutality?

No single actor “made” the police brutal; the colonial design was preserved and adapted by successive governments and institutional practices:

Political control and interference: Police remain accountable upward to the political executive rather than outward to the law and public. Arbitrary transfers, postings, and pressure on investigations involving the powerful are routine. This politicisation turns the force into an instrument of whoever holds power.

Institutional culture and attitudes: Surveys (e.g., Status of Policing in India Report 2025) show significant shares of personnel justify “tough methods,” third-degree interrogation, creating fear among the public, and even extrajudicial killing of “dangerous criminals.” Many believe police should use force without fear of punishment. Support varies by state (higher in some, lower in Kerala). Victims of custodial violence and torture are disproportionately from poor, Dalit, Adivasi, Muslim, and other marginalised communities.

Impunity: National Crime Records Bureau and NHRC data show thousands of custodial deaths over years, yet convictions of police officers are extremely rare (near-zero in large datasets for police-custody deaths between 2011–2022). Safeguards from ‘D.K. Basu’ (1996) and other rulings are frequently ignored. India has not enacted comprehensive domestic anti-torture legislation aligning fully with the UN Convention Against Torture.

Resource and structural deficits: Understaffing relative to UN norms, overwork of the constabulary (the bulk of the force), poor training/infrastructure in many places, and a militarised orientation (large armed/paramilitary components) reinforce coercive habits over professional investigation or community policing.

Social and political acceptance: “Encounters,” rough handling of suspects, and use of force against protesters often enjoy public or political support in the name of “tough on crime,” further normalising excess.

National Police Commission reports (1977–81, after Emergency excesses), Ribeiro, Padmanabhaiah, Malimath, and Soli Sorabjee committees all diagnosed these problems and recommended reforms. Political will to implement structural change has been consistently weak across parties because control over police is a valued instrument of power.

 Path to Democratisation: From Force to Service

Democratisation means shifting the police from an upward-accountable coercive instrument of the executive to a rights-respecting, professionally autonomous service primarily accountable to the law and the public. Core elements are already mapped:

1. Implement the Supreme Court’s Prakash Singh directives (2006) in letter and spirit 

These binding directions (still incompletely and often formalistically followed) require: 

 State Security Commissions to set policy and buffer against political interference (with independent members and binding recommendations). 

 Fixed minimum tenures and merit-based selection for DGP and key field officers. 

Police Establishment Boards for postings/transfers. 

Separation of investigation from law-and-order functions. 

Independent Police Complaints Authorities (state and district levels) with real powers, staff, and resources to investigate serious misconduct (custodial death, rape, grievous hurt, etc.). 

 National Security Commission for central forces. 

Most states have created bodies on paper while diluting independence, composition, or powers. Full, genuine compliance is foundational.

2. Replace the 1861 Act 

Enact modern state Police Acts (or a national model) based on the Model Police Act 2006 (Soli Sorabjee Committee). These should emphasise democratic policing, affirmative duties to facilitate rights (including peaceful protest under Article 19), clear limits on force, and public accountability rather than pure executive control.

3. Accountability and anti-impunity measures

 Empower and resource independent complaints authorities and strengthen

NHRC/SHRC investigative capacity (they currently depend heavily on police). 

 Narrow requirements for prior sanction to prosecute police for serious offences involving death, grievous injury, or sexual violence. 

Statutory state liability with prompt compensation mechanisms. 

 Strict enforcement of arrest/detention safeguards (‘D.K. Basu’ guidelines, CCTV in lock-ups, medical examination, lawyer access). 

 Ratify and domestically implement the UN Convention Against Torture with a standalone anti-torture law (as recommended by the Law Commission).

4. Professionalisation, training, and culture change 

Invest heavily in training the constabulary (≈90% of the force) on human rights, scientific investigation, non-coercive interrogation, crowd management, and soft skills. 

 Improve working conditions, housing, pay, and staffing ratios. 

Shift recruitment, promotion, and performance metrics toward professionalism and public trust rather than “results” measured by fear or encounters. 

 Greater diversity and representation, especially of women and marginalised groups. 

 Technology for transparency (body cameras, better CCTV, case-management systems) while guarding against new surveillance abuses.

5. Broader democratic and social measures 

 Reduce political misuse through transparent processes and legislative oversight. 

 Public education and civil society monitoring to shift social acceptance of brutality. 

Address underlying drivers of crime and conflict (poverty, discrimination, weak investigation capacity) so that coercion is not treated as a substitute for effective policing. 

 Independent performance audits and regular public reporting.

Realism and Obstacles

Reform faces entrenched political incentives, bureaucratic resistance, and uneven public demand. “Tough” policing rhetoric often plays well electorally. Partial or cosmetic compliance (bodies without real power) is common. Success requires sustained pressure from courts, civil society, media, and citizens, plus political leadership willing to trade short-term control for long-term legitimacy and effectiveness. States that have made relatively more progress (e.g., aspects of Kerala’s lower tolerance for certain excesses in surveys) show variation is possible.

In short: the brutality is not an aberration but a predictable product of a colonial design that independent India largely retained and that successive regimes found convenient. Democratisation is achievable through the reforms already extensively studied and judicially mandated—if the political will and institutional follow-through finally materialise. Without them, the police will continue to function more as an instrument of state power than as a service of the people.

From “Cockroaches” to Citizens: Jantar Mantar and the Recovery of Democratic Courage

 

From “Cockroaches” to Citizens: Jantar Mantar and the Recovery of Democratic Courage

SR Darapuri I.P.S.(Retd) 

 Introduction

The events at Jantar Mantar have acquired a significance that extends far beyond the immediate political controversy surrounding them. What initially appeared to be a student protest gradually developed into a larger demonstration of democratic citizenship. Pratap Bhanu Mehta, in his Indian Express article, “‘Cockroaches’ have shown us what it means to be courageous citizens — not subjects,” interprets this episode as an assertion of political courage in an environment in which citizens can increasingly feel powerless before the state.

At the heart of Mehta's argument lies a fundamental distinction between citizens and subjects. A subject is expected to obey authority; a citizen possesses rights, political agency and the legitimate capacity to question those who exercise power. Democracy cannot survive merely through elections. It requires citizens who are prepared to challenge authority when governmental institutions fail to perform their constitutional responsibilities.

The Jantar Mantar protest therefore raises a larger question: What happens to democracy when citizens become afraid to challenge power? Conversely, what happens when ordinary people overcome that fear and reclaim their political voice?

The significance of the Jantar Mantar movement lies precisely in this recovery of democratic courage.

The Politics of the “Cockroach”

The word “cockroach”, used in the political controversy surrounding the protesters, acquired an ironic significance. An attempt to belittle or dehumanise protesters could have reduced them to objects of ridicule. Instead, it became a symbol around which political mobilisation could take place.

The transformation is politically revealing. Those who were allegedly regarded as insignificant demonstrated that they possessed precisely the qualities required of citizens in a democracy: courage, solidarity, political consciousness and the willingness to question authority.

The metaphor thus underwent a reversal. The supposed “cockroaches” became visible political actors. The people who were expected to remain powerless demonstrated that they could occupy public space, articulate grievances and demand accountability.

This is an important feature of democratic politics. Power frequently attempts to portray dissenters as unreasonable, disruptive or illegitimate. But democracy depends upon the recognition that dissent is not outside democratic politics; dissent is part of democratic politics.

Citizens versus Subjects

The most important conceptual distinction in Mehta's argument is between the citizen and the subject.

A subject exists under authority. A citizen exists within a constitutional order that recognises rights and political agency. The distinction is not merely semantic. It concerns the fundamental relationship between the individual and the state.

In an authoritarian political culture, citizens are gradually transformed into subjects. They are encouraged to obey rather than question, to receive rather than participate, and to accept governmental decisions rather than demand accountability.

A constitutional democracy requires the opposite relationship.

The citizen is not merely a beneficiary of governmental schemes or a voter who appears once every few years at an election. The citizen is a continuing participant in public life. The citizen has the right to ask:

• Why was a particular decision taken?
• Who is responsible for governmental failure?
• Are public institutions functioning independently?
• Are citizens' rights being respected?
• Is the police exercising power lawfully?
• Is the government accountable to the people?

The Jantar Mantar protesters, in Mehta's interpretation, demonstrated this active conception of citizenship.

The Recovery of Political Courage

The deepest significance of the movement lies in the recovery of political courage.

Fear is one of the most effective mechanisms through which political power operates. A government does not necessarily have to repress every critic. It can create an environment in which people begin to censor themselves. When citizens fear consequences for speaking, protesting or questioning authority, democratic institutions may continue to exist formally while democratic life becomes progressively weaker.

Political courage breaks this psychological mechanism.

The significance of the protesters was therefore not simply that they opposed a particular minister or policy. Their presence demonstrated that citizens could still occupy public space and publicly challenge governmental authority.

This is why peaceful protest is so important to democracy. Protest reminds governments that political power is temporary and conditional. The state possesses coercive authority, but its legitimacy ultimately depends upon constitutional limits and democratic consent.

Ministerial Accountability

The resignation of Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan assumes particular importance in this context.

In a parliamentary democracy, ministers are not merely political representatives. They occupy constitutional offices carrying public responsibility. The principle of ministerial accountability requires that political officeholders answer for the functioning of their departments and for serious failures occurring within their sphere of responsibility.

The resignation therefore has significance beyond the fate of an individual minister. It raises the question of whether accountability remains a meaningful principle of Indian democratic governance.

When ministers and governments are unable or unwilling to accept responsibility, democratic institutions become weaker. Conversely, when political authority is compelled to acknowledge responsibility, citizens receive an important message: public office entails public accountability.

The Jantar Mantar episode therefore represents a contest not merely over policy but over the meaning of political responsibility.

Higher Education and Institutional Failure

The protest also draws attention to deeper problems within India's higher education system.

Students experience the state not as an abstract constitutional entity but through universities, examinations, recruitment systems, bureaucratic procedures and regulatory institutions. When these systems fail, students experience the consequences directly.

Issues concerning examinations, institutional autonomy, administrative centralisation, corruption, ideological intervention and inadequate public investment can therefore become political questions.

The important point is that such grievances cannot always be dismissed as isolated administrative complaints. They may reflect deeper structural weaknesses in the relationship between citizens and public institutions.

Universities, in particular, should be spaces where questioning authority is encouraged rather than punished. Education should cultivate critical citizens capable of thinking independently. If educational institutions instead cultivate fear and conformity, democracy suffers beyond the campus.

When Institutions Fail, Citizens Take to the Streets

One of the most important implications of the Jantar Mantar episode is the relationship between institutional democracy and street democracy.

In a healthy democracy, citizens should have multiple channels through which grievances can be addressed: Parliament, courts, universities, regulatory bodies, political parties, civil society organisations, the media and administrative institutions.

When these mechanisms work effectively, public protest becomes one among many avenues of democratic participation.

But when institutional channels become inaccessible, unresponsive or distrusted, citizens increasingly turn to the street.

This should not automatically be interpreted as a failure of democracy. Peaceful public protest may instead be evidence that citizens are attempting to restore democratic accountability.

The street becomes a democratic forum when formal institutions cease to adequately represent public grievances.

Jantar Mantar has historically occupied precisely such a symbolic position in India's democratic imagination. It represents the right of citizens to make their grievances publicly visible.

The Police and the Right to Dissent

The role of the police in such situations is therefore crucial.

In a constitutional democracy, the police are not instruments for protecting governments from political criticism. Their responsibility is to maintain public order while simultaneously protecting citizens' fundamental rights.

The right to peaceful assembly and freedom of expression are central democratic freedoms. Restrictions may sometimes be necessary for legitimate reasons of public order, but the exercise of police power must remain lawful, necessary and proportionate.

The crucial question is therefore not whether the government agrees with protesters. The question is whether protesters are being treated as citizens with constitutional rights.

If peaceful dissent is met with unnecessary force, intimidation or arbitrary restrictions, the distinction between citizen and subject becomes increasingly blurred.

This makes the events surrounding Jantar Mantar part of a much larger debate about the nature of police power in a constitutional democracy.

An Ambedkarite Interpretation

The significance of Mehta's argument becomes even deeper when examined through the ideas of Dr. B.R. Ambedkar.

For Ambedkar, democracy was not simply a form of government. It was fundamentally a mode of associated living based upon liberty, equality and fraternity. Constitutional government could not function merely through institutions and legal texts. It required a democratic social consciousness.

Ambedkar's emphasis on constitutional morality is particularly relevant.

Constitutional morality requires citizens and institutions alike to respect the limitations imposed by the Constitution. Government officials cannot treat governmental power as personal authority. The police cannot treat citizens as subjects. Ministers cannot regard public office as unrestricted political power. Citizens, meanwhile, must recognise the rights of others even when they disagree with them.

From an Ambedkarite perspective, therefore, the Jantar Mantar protest can be understood as an assertion of constitutional citizenship.

The protesters were not merely demanding a particular administrative outcome. They were asserting a broader principle:

The people are not subjects of those who temporarily occupy governmental office. Those who govern are accountable to the constitutional order and ultimately to the people.

Democracy Requires Fraternity

There is another Ambedkarite dimension that deserves attention: fraternity.

Political democracy cannot survive indefinitely where citizens are divided into rulers and ruled, superior and inferior, insiders and outsiders. Fraternity requires recognition of the equal dignity of fellow citizens.

The language used against protesters becomes significant in this context. Describing citizens in degrading or dehumanising terms undermines the principle of equal civic dignity.

Democracy requires disagreement without dehumanisation.

Political opponents may be criticised, challenged and defeated electorally, but they cannot legitimately be stripped of their dignity as citizens.

The transformation of the “cockroach” metaphor into a symbol of courage therefore contains a larger democratic lesson: those who are politically marginalised can nevertheless become central actors in the defence of democratic values.

The Limits of a Single Victory

At the same time, the Jantar Mantar episode should not be romanticised.

A ministerial resignation, a successful protest or a temporary retreat by the government does not automatically restore democratic institutions. The deeper problems that generated the protest may remain.

The real test of democracy lies in whether institutions subsequently become more accountable, transparent and responsive.

There is also a danger that governments may learn to absorb individual protests without addressing their structural causes. A democratic movement therefore has to move beyond immediate victories and ask whether the institutional system itself is changing.

The question is not simply: “Did the protesters win?”

The larger question is: “Did the institutions become more democratic because citizens protested?”

Reclaiming the Republic

The Jantar Mantar movement can consequently be understood as part of a broader struggle to reclaim the Republic.

The Constitution begins with the words “We, the People of India.” Sovereignty in a constitutional democracy does not belong personally to the government of the day. Governments exercise delegated authority within constitutional limits.

This distinction is fundamental.

Elections give governments the authority to govern, but they do not give governments unlimited authority. Democratic legitimacy is continuously tested through accountability, transparency, judicial review, free expression, public criticism and citizen participation.

The citizen therefore remains politically relevant between elections.

This is precisely why public protest matters.

When citizens gather peacefully to challenge governmental authority, they are not necessarily weakening the Republic. They may be reminding the Republic of its constitutional foundations.

Conclusion

Pratap Bhanu Mehta's interpretation of the Jantar Mantar episode provides an important way of understanding contemporary democratic politics. The central significance of the movement lies not merely in the controversy over a minister, a policy or a particular institutional failure. Its deeper significance lies in the emergence of citizens who refused to remain silent.

The transformation from “cockroaches” to courageous citizens symbolises a larger democratic reversal. Those who were expected to be insignificant demonstrated political agency. Those who might have remained fearful entered public space. Those who could have accepted governmental authority demanded accountability instead.

The distinction between citizen and subject is therefore the central lesson.

A subject asks what the ruler permits.

A citizen asks what the Constitution guarantees.

A subject fears authority.

A citizen holds authority accountable.

A subject obeys.

A citizen participates.

The future of Indian democracy will depend substantially upon which of these two political identities becomes dominant.

In this sense, Jantar Mantar represents more than a protest. It represents a struggle over the meaning of citizenship itself. Its most enduring contribution may be the reminder that democracy requires not merely governments that claim legitimacy, but citizens courageous enough to demand that those governments live up to the Constitution.

And in an Ambedkarite understanding of the Republic, such courage is not rebellion against democracy. It is one of the conditions of democracy.