Are existing mechanisms effective in preventing custodial violence?

Why does custodial violence persist despite statutory safeguards and Supreme Court guidelines?

Anup Surendranath: India has signed but not ratified the United Nations Convention Against Torture, and lacks a stand-alone domestic law criminalising torture. This reflects a lack of political will to implement international human rights obligations. However, the more pressing concern lies in the entrenched institutional culture that normalises and even justifies custodial violence. Police personnel often perceive such violence as a necessary means to achieve justice, especially when the formal legal process is seen as slow and ineffective. Public reaction to custodial violence is similarly inconsistent and often shaped by the nature of the case. For instance, while the recent incident has sparked widespread outrage, the 2019 alleged encounter killing of four men accused of raping and murdering a veterinarian near Hyderabad was met with public celebration. There is also a glaring absence of authoritative data on custodial violence. As a result, accountability mechanisms remain weak.

What factors contribute to the institutional culture that condones police brutality?

M. Srinivasan: The rigid hierarchical structure of police forces, combined with a high-pressure working environment, fosters a culture in which aggression is often valorised. Mainstream films frequently glorify vigilante justice. In many cases of custodial violence, instead of facing disciplinary action, offending officers are rewarded with promotions.

Anup Surendranath: Custodial violence should not be dismissed as the actions of a few ‘bad apples’ within the system. Such behaviour is perpetuated by entrenched social hierarchies and an enduring colonial mindset within the police, where the public, particularly marginalised communities, is viewed not as citizens to be protected, but as subjects to be controlled. Certain bodies are routinely viewed with suspicion and subjected to heightened surveillance and force. Policing, in this framework, is not about serving the population but about exerting authority over it.

What reforms are required to change such prevailing attitudes?

M. Srinivasan: It is crucial to implement robust training programmes that not only equip police personnel with modern policing methods, but also sensitise them to their own implicit biases. Third-degree torture is often disproportionately inflicted on petty offenders, while white-collar criminals are rarely subjected to such treatment. There is also an urgent need to adopt scientific interrogation techniques. Most police officers lack adequate training in contemporary investigative methods and forensic tools, and there is often a reluctance to collaborate with external experts such as forensic specialists and mental health professionals. Another important reform, supported by many stakeholders, is the decriminalisation of petty offences, particularly minor property-related crimes. This would limit the arbitrary use of arrest powers and help ensure that custodial detention is reserved for exceptional cases.

In 2020, the Supreme Court mandated the installation of CCTV cameras in police stations and affirmed victims’ right to access the footage. How effectively have these directions been implemented?

Anup Surendranath: The Paramvir Singh Saini v. Baljit Singh (2020) judgment is a classic example of the Supreme Court prescribing technocratic solutions to deeply entrenched institutional problems. In reality, compliance with its directions is minimal. More importantly, as seen in the Ajith Kumar case, acts of torture often occur outside police stations. Even where cameras are installed, a common complaint is that they are conveniently non-functional when victims’ families seek access to the footage. This contributes to the continued prevalence of illegal detentions, with arrest dates and times frequently manipulated in police records. Ultimately, the effectiveness of any reform rests on political will and the institutional capacity to enforce it.

The Law Commission has recommended introducing a provision that reverses the burden of proof in such cases. Do you think this could enhance accountability?

Anup Surendranath: Introducing a rebuttable presumption in evidence law would be a significant step towards accountability. However, those most often subjected to such violence typically belong to vulnerable communities. The real question, then, is how we are enabling them to access the legal and constitutional remedies available to them. It is unrealistic to expect victims or their families to navigate the labyrinth of legal procedures on their own. Our justice system often tests the resilience of the very people it should be protecting. So, while legal reforms are important, without parallel efforts to empower vulnerable communities and reduce systemic barriers, the pursuit of justice will remain an uphill battle.

Are judicial magistrates, as the first line of defence against police excesses, discharging their duty to prevent such abuses?

Anup Surendranath: The statutory requirement to produce an accused before a magistrate within 24 hours of arrest is a critical safeguard against police excesses. However, it is deeply concerning how perfunctory this process has become. Magistrates often fail to fulfil their intended role, which includes scrutinising the grounds for arrest, physically examining the accused for signs of torture, and engaging meaningfully with them to uncover any evidence of mistreatment. Even medico-legal examinations are often reduced to a mere formality. The higher judiciary has fallen short in addressing lapses in magisterial oversight. This systemic failure contributes to the abysmally low conviction rates in cases of custodial torture and deaths.

A further concern is the routine admission of torture-based evidence in the legal process. Section 27 of the Indian Evidence Act, 1872, is particularly problematic. While the law excludes confessions made to the police from admissibility, it permits the use of material recovered as a result of such confessions. This loophole enables the continued use of custodial torture, as coerced confessions can still produce evidence that is admissible in court.

In Prakash Singh v. Union of India (2006), the Supreme Court mandated the creation of police complaints authorities, led by retired judges, at the State and district levels to address complaints against police misconduct. How effective have these institutional watchdogs been?

Anup Surendranath: Most States have failed to establish these authorities. Where they do exist, their credibility is compromised by the inclusion of serving police officers as members. This reflects a broader pattern in which judicial directives receive little meaningful compliance from State governments. It also raises serious questions about the judiciary’s ability to enforce its orders.

Can community policing or greater civil society involvement help curb such practices?

M. Srinivasan: Absolutely. Awareness campaigns led by the media, educational institutions, and civil society organisations can play a vital role in informing people about their constitutional rights and the mechanisms available for redress. Increased public scrutiny of custodial practices can also generate pressure for systemic reforms. At the same time, for community policing to be effective, it is essential to clearly define the role of community representatives and ensure they are properly trained to engage with law enforcement constructively.

The newly enacted criminal laws extend the permissible duration of police custody. Could this heighten the risk of custodial torture?

Anup Surendranath: Definitely. The rhetoric surrounding the new criminal laws as tools of “decolonisation” is largely superficial. There has been no meaningful shift in the underlying power dynamics between the police and citizens. Instead, these laws continue to reinforce a policing model rooted in control, coercion, and suspicion. The provision extending the duration of police custody is particularly troubling, as it heightens the risk of custodial torture. Ironically, some of these post-independence reforms are more regressive and punitive than the colonial laws they claim to replace.

That said, there is one welcome change. Under the new Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita, which replaces the Code of Criminal Procedure, 1898, the government must decide within 120 days whether to grant sanction for prosecuting a public official. If it fails to do so, permission is deemed to have been granted, allowing the trial to proceed. This provision could help prevent undue delays in holding officials accountable.

Listen to the conversation in The Hindu Parley podcast