There are marks of a noose on the neck of our democracy
By Seema Azad
Long before the execution of martyrs Bhagat Singh, Rajguru, and Sukhdev during British rule, 16-year-old revolutionary Khudiram Bose was sent to the gallows on August 11, 1908. In the last lines of the song “E Bar Bidai De Ma, Ghure Ashi”—sung across Bengal in his memory—Khudiram Bose reassures his mother: “I shall be born again; if you find it difficult to recognize me, look for the marks of the noose around my neck.”
Whether or not Khudiram Bose was born with the mark of a noose around his neck is something no one witnessed; however, it is plain for all to see that the fragile democracy which emerged in our country following the British Raj bears numerous marks of a noose around its own neck—marks accompanied by fresh splatters of blood.
According to data from the National Law University, Delhi, a total of 752 individuals have been executed by hanging since 1947, and currently, between 400 and 500-plus people are awaiting execution. While government figures indicate that a total of 57 people have been executed by hanging since 1947, the human rights organization People’s Union for Democratic Rights (PUDR) reports that between 1953 and 1963—a span of just one decade—1,422 individuals were executed by hanging across 16 Indian states.
Regardless of which figure is accurate, it remains clear that Indian democracy continues along the path laid down during British colonial rule—and that its own neck, too, bears deep, fresh stains of blood.
Discussions regarding the death penalty take place from time to time, yet the Government of India continues to adhere to the laws and paths established during the British colonial era.
On December 16, 2020, the United Nations General Assembly passed a resolution calling for a moratorium on the death penalty, which received support from 123 countries. A total of 38 countries opposed this resolution—effectively supporting the death penalty—and this group included both the United States and India.
While the debate over abolishing the death penalty has been ongoing in India for decades, the Indian government remains firm on retaining it, citing its application in the “rarest of rare” cases.
Recently, 10 individuals were sentenced to death for the 2013 Jhiram Valley attack—a development that was celebrated in official circles as the “delivery of justice.” This has reignited the debate surrounding capital punishment.
Human rights organizations—of which I am a part—should, this time, strive to move this discourse beyond mere debate and work toward the ultimate abolition of the death penalty. Those sentenced to death in the Jhiram Valley attack case belong to the most marginalized sections of one of the country’s most underdeveloped regions. Among these ten individuals are two women: Pramila Modiyam and Sumitra Punem Modiyam. The others are Chaitu Lekam, Mukka Mandavi, Kawasi Kosa, Ayata Markam, Madkami Deva, Joga Madkam, Banjami Sanna, and Mahadev Nag. The judge who handed down the death sentences is Ajay Singh Rajput, and the agency that prosecuted the case in court is the NIA. Even these few facts about the case speak volumes.
The incident took place at night, carried out by a group of 200–300 or more people under the cover of darkness; there are no eyewitnesses. Former Chhattisgarh Chief Minister Bhupesh Baghel had previously expressed concerns regarding this case, stating that no concrete investigation had been conducted to reach the actual conspirators behind the Jhiram Ghati massacre. In her interview, Bela Bhatia stated that following the incident, the police—acting at the behest of the DRG (District Reserve Guard)—arrested several local residents. Among those arrested was a woman who had been associated with the ‘Chetna Natya Mandali’ (a cultural troupe) during her youth; a young man who had come to the village to attend a wedding; and a former sarpanch (village head). Furthermore, it could not even be proven during the trial that these 10 individuals were the ones who had conspired to carry out an attack that involved 200 to 300 people. The arrested individuals have already spent 13 years in prison without bail before being sentenced to death; the years ahead will be spent under the agonizing pressure of awaiting execution—a fact that, in itself, constitutes a crime against them.
Bela Bhatia notes that 99% of the arrests of Adivasis in Bastar are similarly fabricated; unable to even comprehend the charges against them—let alone mount a legal defense—they languish in prison for years on end. However, rather than focusing on these well-documented, spurious arrests, we shall address the issue of the death penalty. The death penalty should have no place in any social system. There are three primary reasons for this: technical, theoretical, and political. Let us first address the technical reasons.
Technical arguments against the death penalty
A fundamental principle of justice is that “it is better for 100 guilty persons to go free than for a single innocent person to be punished.” This implies that human error can occur within the judicial process; therefore, it must be ensured that no innocent person is ever punished. And what if the punishment is death? In such cases, human errors cannot be overlooked at all, for once someone is dead, they cannot be brought back to life. As corruption within the judicial system continues to grow, these human errors are increasingly turning into calculated conspiracies. The powerful—wielding both wealth and influence—can fabricate or destroy evidence. They can corrupt not only lawyers but also judges, or exert pressure upon them.And when one side holds power, it is not difficult to grasp the gravitational pull of its influence. In a judicial system such as this, the retention and sanctioning of the death penalty make it all too easy for the vulnerable and the poor—not only to be convicted—but to end up on death row. According to the ‘Death Penalty India Report’ by the National Law University, Delhi, 74.1% of those sentenced to death belong to economically disadvantaged backgrounds. Furthermore, given the Brahmanical, Hindutva-driven, and fascist character of the Indian state, those who remain—those who fall into the crosshairs—are predominantly Muslims, Dalits, or Adivasis.
According to data from the United States, 200 individuals sentenced to death since 1973 have been found innocent by higher courts and subsequently released. Some of these individuals were exonerated only after their deaths. Living while awaiting execution is, in itself, a form of torture. In the United States, the average duration of this wait is 11 years, though in some instances, it is reported to be as long as 17 years. When a judge hands down a death sentence, they are effectively disregarding these judicial flaws and human errors—a process in which the judge’s own psychological makeup often plays a significant role.In these times, as we drift toward authoritarianism, laws are being introduced that place the burden of proving one’s innocence upon the innocent themselves—effectively crushing the individual under the weight of the law. Retaining the death penalty implies an assumption that all laws are flawless and that the nation’s judicial system functions with absolute perfection—a premise that no reasonable person could possibly accept. Therefore, in such a social order, the death penalty should, under no circumstances, be permitted.
In the judgment concerning the Jhiram Valley case, the fact that the judge—while handing down a death sentence—also explicitly mentioned referring the matter to the High Court for confirmation, clearly suggests that the judge was under some form of pressure. It is not difficult to discern the nature of this pressure: projecting an image of eradicating Maoism is a key component of the current government’s agenda.
Theoretical arguments against the death penalty
Another reason for rejecting the death penalty is theoretical in nature. In other words, any democratic system should, in principle, oppose the death penalty. This is because every democratic nation—India included—operates on the premise that its laws are reformative rather than retributive. In other words, the purpose of the law is to bring about reform in the individual who has committed a crime, not to exact institutional vengeance upon them. It is for this very reason that, in India, prisons are also referred to as “correctional homes. “Seeking revenge is a hallmark of a barbaric and backward society—one in which human values have failed to evolve. Yet, the continued retention of the death penalty—even when punishment is ostensibly viewed as “rehabilitative”—reveals that a society’s human values remain rooted in a regressive, feudal past. In truth, the death penalty only serves to render such a society—already burdened by stagnant and backward human values—even more regressive and violent. When people demand the death penalty during protests following a heinous crime, it is not merely an expression of their outrage toward the incident; it also serves as evidence of a violent mindset—one that actively calls for the killing of an individual. When people clamor for someone to be executed, or celebrate an execution once it has taken place (as was the case with the hanging of Afzal Guru, or as many did following the verdict related to the Jhiram Valley incident), it reveals that a significant number of minds within that society are, in fact, prepared—or even eager—to see a human being killed. This demonstrates that their minds have yet to reach a higher plane of human sensibility; when a multitude of such minds come together to form a society, that society inevitably becomes a violent one. In such a society, incidents of murder—including the most heinous acts—continue to rise unabated. The system will keep handing down death sentences, yet the most atrocious crimes will persist; this is because those in power, far from making any effort to humanize society, are instead formulating and implementing policies that render it increasingly cruel—policies that include the imposition of the death penalty.
In principle, no one should be sentenced to death, because in a society as violent and cruel as ours, imposing the death penalty on an individual is an act of injustice against that person. An individual—or someone with a criminal mindset—is not shaped in isolation; rather, they are a product of the society around them, which exerts its own economic, social, and political influences. A society that harbors a degrading attitude toward women will inevitably produce rapists; a society where religious or caste-based lynching is commonplace will breed murderers; and a society where state repression runs unchecked will give rise to dissenters and rebels. When patriarchy makes life unbearable for women, they may, in an effort to defend themselves, resort to actions that the law would classify as crimes. When a judge sentences an individual for a crime, the focus remains solely on the person, rather than on the socio-economic conditions that led them to commit the offense. This constitutes incomplete justice—one in which the social order is effectively acquitted every single time, with no judgment passed to hold it accountable or to reform it. As long as a regime exists that is violent, feudal, patriarchal, religiously and ethnically intolerant, and one that glorifies crime, the imposition of the death penalty is, in itself, a grave crime—a crime that this social order continues to perpetrate.
The Political Dimensions of the Death Penalty
In reality, the death penalty was not devised for the most heinous crimes—after all, those who commit the most heinous crimes are the very ones sitting in Parliament. In truth, the death penalty was designed to eliminate one’s opponents.
From Bruno and Spartacus to figures in India such as Mangal Pandey, Khudiram Bose, Sidhu-Kanhu, Birsa Munda, Veer Narayan Singh, Ashfaqulla, Ram Prasad Bismil, Bhagat Singh, Rajguru, and Sukhdev, as well as the four revolutionaries from Kayyur; and in independent India, from Bhumayya and Kista Goud to Maqbool Bhat and Afzal Guru, and even the ten Adivasis from the Jhiram Valley (who have recently been sentenced to death)—all those who were ‘bestowed’ with the death penalty were political opponents of the established power structure. In reality, the prevailing power structure has institutionalized the death penalty to maintain its own authority and to eliminate political opponents by giving a legal veneer to state-sanctioned killing. The death penalty is, in essence, a declaration of the state’s dominance over those who challenge the established order. It is not a legal mechanism devised to maintain social order, but rather a symbol of the state’s political ruthlessness—a tool used to teach a lesson to its adversaries.
The truth is that society has been evolving ever since it came into existence. There have always been individuals who challenged its stagnation, and it is precisely because of them that society has continued to progress. Consider the names of those mentioned above who were sent to the gallows; they were not executed for committing crimes, but rather because they showed the way forward for society. The death penalty must be vehemently opposed, not because it has failed to eradicate crime from society, but because, in reality, it has served to eliminate those who were at the forefront of societal progress. This punishment serves as a declaration by state authority that the ultimate claim over the lives of the people belongs to the state. This very notion runs counter to the spirit of democracy. No political system should possess such power. In his diary titled “Abolish Death Penalty”—written in the wake of the executions of Bhumaiya and Kista Goud—revolutionary poet Varavara Rao asks: “What kind of a society is it that kills its most committed dissenter in the name of the law?” The death sentence handed down to 10 Adivasis in the Jhiram Valley is based on the premise that they are “committed dissenters” against the established power. Compounding this is the fact that they hail from one of India’s most neglected regions, belong to an Adivasi community, and are among the poorest of the poor.
Everyone must come forward—both to challenge the death sentences handed down to the 10 Adivasis in the Jhiram Valley case and to erase the noose-mark left upon the neck of our democracy—lest these very marks and the bloodstains upon them end up strangling our democracy to death one day.