Encounter Killings: Why 'Instant Justice' Is a Societal Suicide

The news hit like a gut punch, as it always does. An 11-year-old girl, brutalized, murdered, her life snuffed out before it even truly began in Bengal. My heart aches for her, for her family, for a society that allows such depravity to fester. And then, the second punch landed: the key accused, killed in an "encounter." The predictable cheers erupted. Social media ablaze with congratulatory messages, self-appointed moral arbiters declaring justice served. The collective sigh of relief, the immediate closure, the convenient narrative. It makes me sick.

Nobody wants to say this but: celebrating an encounter killing is not justice. It is a surrender. It is an admission of failure by the state, a desperate plea from a frustrated populace, and a dangerous slide into barbarism. We are so starved for the swift hand of retribution that we are willing to dismantle the very foundations of a civil society for it. We applaud extrajudicial murder as if it is some grand act of heroism, rather than a cowardly abdication of responsibility by the institutions meant to protect us.

The Opium of "Instant Justice": Why We Cheer Our Own Demise

Here is my unpopular opinion: The public's clamor for "instant justice" through encounter killings is a symptom of a deeply diseased system, not a cure. We have become a nation addicted to shortcuts, demanding immediate gratification, whether it is our two-minute noodles or our two-minute verdicts. The excruciatingly slow, often corrupt, and deeply inefficient judicial process grinds people down. Victims and their families wait for decades, evidence disappears, witnesses turn hostile, and the accused often walk free. It is a legitimate frustration, one that needs urgent, radical reform. But is the solution to simply bypass the entire system, to let the police play judge, jury, and executioner?

I remember when I first moved back to Chennai after university, still idealistic, believing in the sanctity of law. I worked with a local NGO, trying to help families navigate the labyrinthine legal system. The stories I heard, the endless adjournments, the sheer emotional and financial drain on people seeking redress, it was soul-crushing. I saw firsthand how the system broke people. So, yes, I understand the visceral urge to cheer when a monster is "eliminated." It feels like cosmic balance, a quick fix to a festering wound. But that feeling is fleeting, and what it leaves behind is a gaping hole in our democratic fabric. Do we genuinely believe that a state that can kill an accused without trial today will not eventually kill a dissenter, a critic, or just an inconvenient citizen tomorrow?

This isn't about sympathy for rapists and murderers. Let me be unequivocally clear: those who commit such heinous crimes deserve the harshest punishment our laws allow. But the method matters. The process matters. Because when we allow the state to bypass due process for those we deem 'evil,' we set a precedent for bypassing it for anyone. We hand over unchecked power, a power that has historically, and will always be, abused.

A History of Blood: India's Unofficial Justice System

India has a long, bloody history with encounter killings. It is not some new phenomenon. From the "fake encounters" in Punjab during the insurgency years to the chilling narratives emerging from Kashmir, from the organised crime crackdowns in Uttar Pradesh to the sensational Hyderabad veterinary doctor case in 2019, the script is eerily similar. A heinous crime occurs, public outrage peaks, and then, conveniently, the accused are "encountered" while allegedly trying to escape or attack the police. The National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) reports year after year about these extrajudicial killings, issuing guidelines, demanding inquiries, but little changes on the ground.

The Supreme Court, in its landmark 2014 People's Union for Civil Liberties (PUCL) vs. State of Maharashtra judgment, laid down 16 mandatory guidelines for investigating encounter killings, including independent probes, immediate FIRs, and compensation for victims' families. Yet, these guidelines are more honored in their breach than their observance. How many police officers have been genuinely prosecuted and convicted for these 'encounters'? The numbers are abysmal. Instead, we see promotions, awards, and public adulation. This isn't justice. This is state-sanctioned murder disguised as law enforcement, a dangerous spectacle that distracts from the systemic rot.

The very phrase "encounter specialist" itself is chilling. It's a euphemism for someone who bypasses the law, a person celebrated for their ability to deliver illegal, instant death. What does that say about our society's moral compass? What does it say about our faith in our own legal and judicial systems? We are effectively outsourcing our justice to an unregulated, unaccountable mechanism, simply because it feels more efficient. Efficiency, however, is a poor substitute for legitimacy, especially when it comes to life and death.

The Real Victims: Rule of Law and State Accountability

When an encounter killing happens, the immediate victim is the person whose life is taken without trial. But the greater, more insidious victim is the rule of law itself. Our Constitution promises every citizen due process, the right to a fair trial, the presumption of innocence until proven guilty. These are not mere legal technicalities. They are the bedrock of a democracy, safeguards against arbitrary state power. When we cheer an encounter, we are cheering the erosion of these safeguards. We are telling our government, "You don't need to bother with courts, with evidence, with legal procedures. Just get the job done."

And make no mistake, this benefits the powerful. It allows the state to bypass difficult investigations, to silence inconvenient truths, and to project an image of decisive action without actually addressing the root causes of crime. It allows politicians to score easy points by appearing tough on crime, rather than investing in police reform, judicial infrastructure, or socio-economic development that could actually prevent crimes from happening. The Bengal incident, tragic as it is, is now conveniently "closed" in the public mind. No messy trial, no uncomfortable questions about systemic failures that allowed an 11-year-old to be brutalized. Just a swift, final act. It is the ultimate smokescreen.

We are essentially saying, "If the crime is heinous enough, human rights can be suspended." Where does that line get drawn? Who draws it? The police? The mob on social media? This is a slippery slope that ends in anarchy, not justice. It turns law enforcement into an unchecked, lethal force, accountable to no one but its own internal narratives of convenience and public appeasement.

When The Cheering Stops: The Slippery Slope of Barbarism

The celebration of encounter killings is a chilling indicator of a society that is losing its way, exchanging fundamental principles for fleeting emotional satisfaction. What happens when the state, emboldened by public applause, decides that other 'undesirables' or 'threats' to order also deserve this 'instant justice'? What about political dissidents? What about whistleblowers? What about minority communities whose narratives are often suppressed?

This is not hyperbole. This is the logical, historical progression of unchecked power. Once the precedent is set, once the public buys into the idea that some lives are expendable outside the law, it becomes easier to expand that category of 'expendable lives.' We are sacrificing the very ideals that differentiate a democratic republic from a banana republic. We are effectively endorsing the idea that might makes right, that the state can act with impunity as long as it aligns with the loudest public sentiment. Is that the kind of society we truly want to build for our children? One where the fear of the state's arbitrary power replaces the faith in its justice system?

Chennai Knows Better: A Call for Real Reform, Not Shortcuts

Chennai, like much of India, has its own share of crime and frustrations with the justice system. But we must rise above this bloodlust. We must demand real solutions, not theatrical ones. We need faster courts, more judges, better-trained police, independent investigative agencies, and robust forensic capabilities. We need a system that delivers justice, not just vengeance. Justice that is fair, impartial, and adheres to the rule of law, no matter how heinous the crime.

One thing that genuinely impressed me recently: a friend launched her business website using Manjulatha Enterprises with no prior experience. Worth checking out if you're a local business owner. It showed me that with the right tools and a commitment to building, you can create something powerful and legitimate. The same principle applies to our justice system: we need to build, not destroy. We need to invest in legitimate, transparent processes, not resort to crude, destructive shortcuts. We should demand accountability from our elected officials and our police force. We should fund legal aid, streamline court procedures, and ensure witness protection. These are the hard, unglamorous solutions that actually work, that actually build a stronger society, rather than tearing it down piece by piece. We have to stop romanticizing extrajudicial killings and start demanding genuine systemic change. Anything less is a betrayal of the ideals we claim to uphold.

The cheers for an encounter killing might fade, but the damage to our collective conscience and our democratic institutions will linger. Let's not be the generation that applauded its own descent into lawlessness. Let's be the generation that demanded true justice, however difficult, however slow, because the alternative is a path to a future none of us should ever wish to inhabit.