The word “police” has a convoluted etymology, from the English of the 1500s, middle French, Latin and ultimately the ancient Greek polisoos — polis or city, and sozo, to save, to keep. The word describes the function. In time, it has acquired multiple connotations most often expressed in the mottos of organized police forces; terms such as to protect and to serve, for example. In small print beneath the emblem of the Mumbai Police are the words “Sadraksanaya Khalanigrahanaya”: protect the good and punish the evil.
Whatever their agenda, the 26/11 terrorist attacks on Mumbai showed us that at least some of our men in khaki take these words very, very seriously. There were extraordinary stories of valour and sacrifice, of putting oneself in the line of fire and standing between the terrorists and the rest of us. But the attacks also brought into sharp focus something else: how badly we treat our own. The CCTV footage of the shootout at the CST Railway station makes for tragic viewing: terrorists equipped with the latest weaponry and body armour being confronted by policemen with nothing more than museum-grade rifle and the most impossible courage. That is questionable and arguably not entirely true. Certainly, not enough has changed. But do we need a terrorist simply to do what is right for our own?
The fact of the matter is that we still don’t stop to think about the conditions in which our police operate. In a 2009 article, Ved Marwah—formerly a police commissioner and Joint Secretary of the National Police Commission—lamented, “Police reforms are not about giving more powers to the police, but to protect life and property of the ordinary citizen and maintain public order.” Marwah goes on to point out the host of problems that beset our police forces: being used by political masters, seconded to pointless security detail for VIPs, pathetic living and working conditions, arbitrariness in service conditions and more. A vast number do their job tirelessly and honestly, in conditions that any of us would find completely unacceptable. Marwah writes:
A police officer is supposed to be on duty 24 hours without any holiday. He lives away from his family because he has no living accommodation available near the place of work. He is expected to reach a crime scene in minutes, even if he is not provided with transport facilities. Even in metropolitan areas like Delhi and Mumbai, many of them live in ‘jhuggis’ and their living conditions are no better than of the poorest in the society. The media loves to paint them as villains living a life of luxury. While the fact of corruption in their ranks cannot be denied, it is rarely appreciated that over ninety per cent of the force have absolutely no scope for indulging in corruption.
A response to an RTI query of a while ago showed that 4413 police constables and 81 inspectors in Mumbai live in slums. Those figures are probably much higher today. In June this year, the Maharashtra State Human Rights Commission slammed the administration for the inhuman conditions of lower-echelon police. The petition before the commission describes the conditions as ‘worse than animals.’ Steps are now being taken to improve existing living accomodation, but in a state that refuses to implement any kind of housing policy, what hope is there for new entrants?
It is no excuse to say that there is no money to pay for these basic amenities for our police. If our Members of Parliament can reward themselves with pay hikes of over 60%, clearly there is money. The issue is, first, one of priorities, not wherewithal; and second, as Pratap Bhanu Mehta points out, of an increasing lack of social credibility. Citizens don’t trust the police, and the police see citizens as a nuisance. At every level, the state fails both the citizens and the police when it fails to render adequate support—whether it is equipment, training or conditions of service. The consequences, inevitably, are egregious extremes: at one end, a beat cop collecting kickbacks on the street at one end; super-equipped officers who ‘specialize’ in what we have cheerfully come to call ‘encounter killings’; police administration at the higher levels that diverts funds for needless fripperies; and, at the other, the large number of under-equipped, under-trained and inexplicably dedicated officers who do what needs to be done. For some years now, there have been recommendations for greater community participation in policing, and bridge-building between the local police services and the communities they serve. Successful initiatives from Tamil Nadu and Kerala could, and should, have become templates for the rest of the country. This is yet to happen. The recommendations and action plan suggested at a November 2004 seminar on police and public participation are still not implemented, although the seminar was organized by the Home Ministry and the state government and included a virtual who’s who from the police and administrative services, and several NGOs and research institutes.
The result is a continuing and perhaps increasing divide between the public and those who are required to serve and protect it. Each day brings a new example: On Monday, as Kasab confirmation case hearings began in the High Court, unprecedented security systems were put in place. The police are now required to check the identities of everyone coming in, lawyers and litigants alike. Our police commissioner, Sanjeev Dayal, and his Deputy Commissioner, Aswati Dorje insist this is essential. “The threat is also to the advocates. We have to protect them.” It cannot be easy and it’s much more difficult when a constable is challenged for doing his job. As one officer said, “my constables haven’t been educated beyond the 10th or 12th standard. How are they supposed to argue with lawyers?”
In court, watching the CST footage, the judges remarked on the bravery of the policemen who fell that day. That same evening, leaving the building, my colleague Mohan Rao (secretary of our Bar Association) and I casually asked the inspector what arrangements had been made for his staff. “Only water,” he said with a sad smile. Nothing else? we asked. No tea, no lunch packets? He shrugged. “Amhala kon baghta?” he said. “Who cares for us?”
A slightly shorter version of this article first appeared in the Mumbai Mirror and Bangalore Mirror on Friday, 22 October 2010.
To Protect The Good, And Punish The Protectors
The word "police" has a convoluted etymology, from the English of the 1500s, middle French, Latin and ultimately the ancient Greek *polisoos* -- *polis* or city, and *sozo*, to save, to keep. The word describes the function. In time, it has acquired multiple connotations most often expressed in the mottos of organized police forces; terms such as *to protect and to serve*, for example. In small print beneath the emblem of the Mumbai Police are the words "*Sadraksanaya Khalanigrahanaya*": protect the good and punish the evil.
