Crucial test of justice and accountability

Tamil Nadu elections spotlight custodial violence, systemic bias, and weak justice delivery

New Delhi: Tamil Nadu's Assembly elections are once again set to determine the political trajectory of the state. This time, however, the debate extends well beyond development, welfare schemes, or the proclaimed success of the "Dravidian model." Questions of law and order, justice, and accountability have moved decisively to the center of the electoral discourse. Beneath the cold surface of statistics lie human stories; stories that are now compelling voters to confront uncomfortable truths.

Crime is often reduced to numbers: how many cases were registered, how many arrests were made, and what the conviction rates reveal. Yet behind every statistic lies a fractured family, a life cut short, and a community learning to live under the shadow of fear. In recent years, a troubling pattern has emerged in Tamil Nadu, one that reflects a deeper, systemic reality in which the burden of institutional failure falls disproportionately on those at the margins of society.

Under the leadership of M. K. Stalin, the state has cultivated a reputation anchored in welfare initiatives and the promise of social justice. But concerns around law and order now stand alongside these claims, demanding equal scrutiny. The issue is no longer just about the incidence of crime; it is about how the state responds and more importantly, who bears the cost of those responses.

The custodial deaths in Sathankulam remain etched in public memory. The deaths of Jayaraj and Bennix triggered nationwide outrage and came to symbolize police excess and institutional breakdown. While the immediate political and social response was intense, the pace of justice since then appears to have slowed. For many families, the moment of accountability still feels frustratingly distant.

Custodial Deaths

Human rights data deepens this unease. As of August 2025, at least 32 custodial deaths have been recorded under the current administration, compared to around 40 during the previous government. At first glance, the difference may seem marginal. But the more pressing question is whether any structural shift has occurred. Has the system become more accountable, or has the pattern simply endured under a different dispensation?

The case of Ajith Kumar from Sivaganga sharpens this concern. A temple security guard who died in police custody, his post-mortem recorded 44 external injuries, that was clear evidence of sustained assault. This is not merely an individual tragedy; it signals institutional cruelty. When the official explanation is reduced to an "intelligence failure," it raises a fundamental question: how can such brutality occur without systemic awareness? In several other cases, initial police claims have later been contradicted by post-mortem findings indicating severe internal injuries, such as deaths attributed to "food poisoning."

The problem extends well beyond custodial deaths. Data obtained through the Right to Information Act reveals that in 2024, 304 inmates were admitted to Puzhal prison with fresh fractures. The official explanation was frequently that they had "slipped in the toilet." Notably, nearly 75 percent of these individuals were accused of relatively minor offences such as chain snatching. The implication is difficult to ignore: punishment may begin long before trial, before due process has even had a chance to unfold.

Serious Pattern

The judiciary has also expressed concern over this pattern. Questions raised in 2025, why such "accidents" seem to affect only prisoners and never police personnel, strike at the credibility of the system itself. For those already caught in its web, the message is deeply unsettling: the pursuit of justice may begin with suffering.

Structural deficiencies further complicate matters. Despite directives from the Supreme Court, many police stations reportedly operate with dysfunctional CCTV cameras or interrogation spaces riddled with blind spots. Discrepancies between forensic and medical reports raise serious concerns about the integrity of documentation.

The consequences of these failures are not evenly distributed. According to the National Crime Records Bureau, Scheduled Castes account for over 42 percent of those in custody in Tamil Nadu, far exceeding the national average. Despite constituting roughly 20 percent of the state's population, their representation in prisons ranges from 31 percent to, in some cases, nearly 50 percent. This imbalance is not merely statistical; it reflects deep structural inequities embedded within the system.

Slow Justice

The slow pace of justice further aggravates the crisis. According to the NITI Aayog SDG India Index 2023-24, Tamil Nadu lags behind in the delivery of justice. The example of Perambalur, where a special court reportedly failed to dispose of even a single case over an entire year, underscores the gravity of the problem.

Declaring all 38 districts of the state as "atrocity-prone" acknowledges the scale of the issue. However, without effective implementation, such measures risk remaining symbolic. Without functional special courts and stronger protective mechanisms, these declarations are unlikely to translate into meaningful change on the ground.

At this critical electoral moment, the people of Tamil Nadu are faced with a choice that goes beyond electing a government; they are deciding the direction of governance itself. Will the next administration treat law and order not merely as an instrument of control, but as a foundation for justice and accountability? Will it prioritize institutional reforms capable of curbing custodial violence and restoring confidence among the most vulnerable?

Ultimately, the strength of a democracy is not measured solely by elections, but by how the state treats its weakest citizens. This time, Tamil Nadu's voters are not just choosing a government, but they are deciding whether justice will remain a promise, or finally become a reality.