Trigger Justice

Encounter killings often find public support as a swift form of justice, but they undermine the very foundations of a democratic society. The killing of Akshay Shinde, prime accused in the molestation of two toddlers in Badlapur last year, is a chilling reminder of an enduring culture of extrajudicial killings in Mumbai’s police force after a magistrate’s inquiry dismantled the official narrative that Shinde had died in a firefight while attempting to escape custody.

The inquiry report, submitted to the Bombay High Court, exposes a fabricated police narrative which had long been suspected. It implicated five police officers, thus raising troubling questions about Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis’ management of the Home Department.

The report found no fingerprints of Shinde on the gun he allegedly snatched, no traces of gunpowder on his hands and no justification for the deadly force used by five police officers present at the scene.

Maharashtra’s police history is replete with tales of encounter specialists who were once hailed as crime-fighting heroes but often operated outside the bounds of the law. In the late 1990s and early 2000s, Mumbai’s encounter squads, led by officers like Pradeep Sharma and Daya Nayak, were celebrated for their role in curbing the underworld. Yet, their methods—extrajudicial executions masquerading as shootouts—created a culture of impunity that still haunts the state’s law enforcement.

Shinde’s case was different. Arrested for the sexual abuse of two girls in a school toilet, he was a prime suspect in a case that implicated influential figures tied to the school’s management. Opposition parties have alleged that his killing was a deliberate attempt to shield powerful individuals with connections to the ruling BJP and RSS.

The public outrage following Shinde’s initial arrest had already put immense pressure on law enforcement. Protesters demanded swift justice, but their demands appear to have been met with a travesty of due process.

The resurgence of extrajudicial killings in Maharashtra signals a worrying erosion of the rule of law. Shinde’s death raises critical questions: Who decides who lives or dies without trial? What mechanisms ensure that the state does not wield its power arbitrarily?

Maharashtra’s history with encounter killings offers grim lessons. In the past, these extrajudicial actions were rationalized as necessary to combat the underworld. But they also normalized a dangerous precedent that the state could bypass its own legal system. Shinde’s case suggests that this precedent has extended beyond organized crime, targeting individuals who threaten political or institutional interests.

Failure to address these systemic issues will only deepen public mistrust in law enforcement. The Bombay High Court’s directive for an FIR is a step in the right direction, but a broader reckoning is needed. Maharashtra must confront its reliance on extrajudicial methods.

Justice cannot thrive in the shadow of a gun. If democracy is to endure, the rule of law must be sacrosanct, no matter how grave the crime or how powerful the accused.