India’s New Criminal Law Codes and the Illusion of Decolonisation

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Decolonization of Law in India: Exploring an Alternative Paradigm - India  Legal

by Sudhanshu Roy     24 December 2023

The recent passage of three bills by the Lok Sabha—namely the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita, and the Bharatiya Sakshya Sanhita—has been heralded by the government as a monumental shift from a colonial-era mindset to one rooted in Indian principles of justice. While on the surface, these bills promise faster case resolutions and streamlined procedures, a deeper dive reveals concerns that cannot be ignored. These legislations, rather than heralding a new era of justice, seem to consolidate power in the hands of the state, diluting citizen rights and freedoms.

At the heart of the government’s narrative is the claim that these bills symbolize a break from the past, ushering in an era where justice is prioritized over mere punitive measures. However, the haste with which these bills were pushed through raises eyebrows. To assert that they are products of “comprehensive consultations” seems misleading at best. A closer examination suggests that the voices of opposition members were largely sidelined, and key concerns raised during the legislative review process still need to be addressed.

While the bills aim to expedite case resolutions and simplify legal procedures, they inadvertently grant disproportionate power to the government and law enforcement agencies. Such provisions, ostensibly designed to combat organized crime and safeguard national security, risk undermining fundamental freedoms. The expansive definitions of offenses, particularly concerning acts deemed to threaten sovereignty or classified as “terrorist acts,” grant law enforcement agencies sweeping powers reminiscent of draconian laws like the UAPA.

It’s alarming how the bills allow the police a more significant say in matters like initiating First Information Reports (FIRs) and resorting to handcuffs post-arrest, even in cases traditionally deemed non-violent or economic offenses. Such provisions run contrary to established judicial guidelines, with the Supreme Court itself cautioning against indiscriminate use of restraints.

The nuanced issue of sedition further exemplifies the problematic nature of these bills. While the government contends that provisions related to sedition have been removed, a mere name change—from ‘rajdroh’ to ‘deshdroh’—does little to alter the essence. Such semantic changes risk being perceived as mere cosmetic adjustments rather than genuine reforms. Additionally, introducing separate offenses for acts like mob lynching that could potentially attract the death penalty raises questions about the direction in which our justice system is headed. The global trend is unmistakable: a gradual move away from the death penalty, recognizing its irreversibility and the potential for miscarriages of justice. Yet, the new laws seem to be moving in the opposite direction, expanding the scope for capital punishment. This, coupled with provisions that restrict third-party mercy petitions for death-row convicts and tighten bail provisions, suggests a system veering towards retribution rather than rehabilitation or justice.

Perhaps the most concerning aspect of this legislative process is the manner in which these bills were hurriedly passed without adequate debate or consultation. Such a significant overhaul of the country’s criminal laws, affecting every citizen, demanded thorough scrutiny, public discourse, and bipartisan consensus. Instead, the conspicuous absence of opposition voices during the passage of these bills undermines the very democratic principles they purportedly seek to uphold.

The government’s rhetoric of decolonization rings hollow in the face of these developments. While it is essential to modernize and reform outdated laws, any such endeavor must prioritize citizen rights, judicial oversight, and democratic values. By sidelining opposition voices, circumventing established procedures, and granting unchecked powers to law enforcement agencies, the government risks perpetuating the very injustices it claims to rectify.

In conclusion, while the intent behind the new criminal law codes might be well-meaning, the execution leaves much to be desired. True decolonization requires more than just renaming or rebranding; it demands a genuine commitment to justice, transparency, and democratic principles. The hurried passage of these bills, laden with problematic provisions, undermines these ideals, casting a shadow over the future of India’s justice system. It’s high time we pause, reflect, and recalibrate our approach to ensure that the principles of justice, equity, and democracy remain paramount.