<p>Nearly four decades after the sensational Rasheed custodial death case, in which a young advocate was abducted, tortured, and killed, and the then Home Minister was arraigned before eventually being acquitted, Karnataka continues to grapple with the same stain: deaths inside police custody. </p><p>The latest flashpoint is the death of 50-year-old Kantharaju at Huliyaru police station in Tumakuru, the district to which Home Minister G Parameshwara belongs. He was picked up by plainclothesmen during Ugadi festivities on suspicion of gambling. Kantharaju’s family alleges he was brutally assaulted; the police attribute his death to a cardiac episode. He was shifted to a nearby hospital, where he was declared “brought dead”. As per established protocol, the case has been handed over to the Criminal Investigation Department, and a judicial inquiry will follow. Yet, whether the cause is medical or custodial torture, the deeper issue remains unchanged: citizens are dying in custody.</p>.<p>This points to systemic failure rather than isolated excess. Torture endures because policing remains confession-centric. India’s severe shortage of forensic experts leaves investigators overly reliant on extracting admissions rather than building evidence. Technological safeguards are patchy: closed-circuit television cameras, mandated by the Supreme Court, are often non-functional or poorly maintained, conveniently failing at critical moments. Meanwhile, conviction rates in custodial death cases remain abysmally low, fostering a culture of impunity. When prosecutions collapse, and witnesses turn hostile, deterrence evaporates. Existing safeguards, though robust on paper, suffer in execution. Judicial inquiries, National Human Rights Commission reporting, and videographed post-mortems are mandatory, but delays and witness inconsistencies dilute their impact. Policing itself lacks functional specialisation; the same officer juggles law and order duties with criminal investigation, leaving little room for professional evidence-gathering. Crucially, India lacks a standalone law that defines and criminalises custodial torture, despite long-standing international commitments. While India signed the United Nations Convention Against Torture (UNCAT) in 1997, the country has yet to ratify it.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Reform, therefore, must move beyond ritualistic responses. Accountability for non-functional cameras cannot stop at the station house officer; it must extend to supervisory ranks – Superintendents of Police and Deputy Commissioners – with consequences for lapses. The long-pending need for a specific anti-torture law must be addressed, codifying liability and closing legal ambiguities. Courts must adopt a sterner posture, ensuring swift trials and exemplary punishment. This is not merely about an individual official’s misconduct but of institutional lapse. Only when India decisively shifts from coercion to scientific investigation, backed by robust anti-torture laws and hierarchical accountability, will custodial torture become history.</p>
<p>Nearly four decades after the sensational Rasheed custodial death case, in which a young advocate was abducted, tortured, and killed, and the then Home Minister was arraigned before eventually being acquitted, Karnataka continues to grapple with the same stain: deaths inside police custody. </p><p>The latest flashpoint is the death of 50-year-old Kantharaju at Huliyaru police station in Tumakuru, the district to which Home Minister G Parameshwara belongs. He was picked up by plainclothesmen during Ugadi festivities on suspicion of gambling. Kantharaju’s family alleges he was brutally assaulted; the police attribute his death to a cardiac episode. He was shifted to a nearby hospital, where he was declared “brought dead”. As per established protocol, the case has been handed over to the Criminal Investigation Department, and a judicial inquiry will follow. Yet, whether the cause is medical or custodial torture, the deeper issue remains unchanged: citizens are dying in custody.</p>.<p>This points to systemic failure rather than isolated excess. Torture endures because policing remains confession-centric. India’s severe shortage of forensic experts leaves investigators overly reliant on extracting admissions rather than building evidence. Technological safeguards are patchy: closed-circuit television cameras, mandated by the Supreme Court, are often non-functional or poorly maintained, conveniently failing at critical moments. Meanwhile, conviction rates in custodial death cases remain abysmally low, fostering a culture of impunity. When prosecutions collapse, and witnesses turn hostile, deterrence evaporates. Existing safeguards, though robust on paper, suffer in execution. Judicial inquiries, National Human Rights Commission reporting, and videographed post-mortems are mandatory, but delays and witness inconsistencies dilute their impact. Policing itself lacks functional specialisation; the same officer juggles law and order duties with criminal investigation, leaving little room for professional evidence-gathering. Crucially, India lacks a standalone law that defines and criminalises custodial torture, despite long-standing international commitments. While India signed the United Nations Convention Against Torture (UNCAT) in 1997, the country has yet to ratify it.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Reform, therefore, must move beyond ritualistic responses. Accountability for non-functional cameras cannot stop at the station house officer; it must extend to supervisory ranks – Superintendents of Police and Deputy Commissioners – with consequences for lapses. The long-pending need for a specific anti-torture law must be addressed, codifying liability and closing legal ambiguities. Courts must adopt a sterner posture, ensuring swift trials and exemplary punishment. This is not merely about an individual official’s misconduct but of institutional lapse. Only when India decisively shifts from coercion to scientific investigation, backed by robust anti-torture laws and hierarchical accountability, will custodial torture become history.</p>
