Blood-stained streets and shattered lives – this is the grim aftermath of communal violence that continues to haunt India. In November 2024, the town of Sambhal in Uttar Pradesh became the latest flashpoint, where a court-ordered survey of the Shahi Jama Masjid spiralled into chaos, leaving four dead and dozens, including police officers, injured.
In June last year, in Nashik, Maharashtra, a Muslim was brutally lynched over allegations of carrying beef – the second such attack in the region within two weeks.
These events underscore systemic failures in preventing communal violence and highlight the urgent need for legal reforms to hold those in positions of authority accountable.
In the aftermath of every mass atrocity in India’s history, one question lingers unanswered: who shoulders the blame? The 1984 anti-Sikh genocide, the 1992 demolition of the Babri Masjid, the 1993 Mumbai riots and the 2002 Gujarat riots – each a brutal chapter in India’s communal violence – exposed not just the lies of the leadership about maintaining communal harmony but also their disturbing impunity.
While mobs carried out the atrocities, evidence from inquiry commissions and judgments has repeatedly pointed to the complicity or neglect of political leaders and law enforcement officials. Yet even, decades later, many of these leaders continue to evade justice.
At the heart of this failure lies India’s inability to adopt the principle of command responsibility, a globally recognised doctrine that holds leaders accountable for crimes committed under their watch. Rooted in international law, this principle insists that those in positions of power – whether military, political or administrative – bear responsibility if they knew, or should have known, about such crimes and failed to prevent or punish them.
This principle has been instrumental in securing justice in global contexts, from the Nuremberg Trials after World War II to the tribunals for Rwanda and the former Yugoslavia. Yet, the world’s most populous nation India continues to operate without a legal framework that enforces command responsibility, perpetuating a cycle of impunity.
The Liberhan Commission’s report on the Babri Masjid demolition exposed a conspiracy of silence among political leaders and law enforcement. The Commission named top leaders, including L.K. Advani, for their tacit approval and failure to prevent the demolition. It described the event as a meticulously planned operation disguised as a spontaneous outburst of emotion. The Uttar Pradesh government, led by Kalyan Singh, was implicated for dismantling security mechanisms and positioning officials who would not act against the mob.
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Justice Liberhan’s stark words still resonate: “The incidents of December 6th were neither spontaneous, nor unpreventable. They were the zenith of a concerted and well laid-out plan which encompasses an entire pantheon of religious, political and mob leadership. It was a successful and well concealed plan of the authors of the movement who also managed to stay outside the public limelight until the actual events unfolded.”
Similarly, the Srikrishna Commission, tasked with investigating the 1992-1993 Mumbai riots, revealed that the Shiv Sena’s leadership, including Bal Thackeray, directed and incited violence against Muslims. The report noted the blatant anti-minority bias within the Mumbai police, many of whom either participated in the violence or stood by as silent spectators.
Despite this damning evidence, political expediency ensured that no significant action was taken against those at the top. According to the Hindustan Times, “Justice Srikrishna’s findings confirm what has long been general knowledge. Much of the political elite and security forces in Maharashtra were complicit in the riots that rocked India’s largest city in December 1992 and January 1993.”
Justice S. Muralidhar’s 2018 judgment on the 1984 anti-Sikh genocide was a watershed moment. Convicting Congress leader Sajjan Kumar, the court described the riots as “crimes against humanity” and condemned the role of political actors in orchestrating the violence.
Justice Muralidhar’s words, “It has taken over three decades to bring the accused in this case to justice,” highlighted the systemic delays and state complicity that have long denied closure to victims.
A critical intervention in this debate came in November 2012, in the form of a seminar titled “Towards an Effective Law to Prevent Communal and Sectarian Violence.” Eminent jurists and activists participated, with Justice Hosbet Suresh delivering a powerful call for legislative action.
Drawing on the UN Convention on Genocide, which India signed in 1959, Justice Suresh argued for a special law to address state-organised communal and sectarian violence. He outlined key principles of the Convention: no immunity for genocide perpetrators, the ability to prosecute crimes even without prior laws, no statutes of limitation, no requirement for victim complaints to initiate investigations and no need for prior sanction to prosecute. These principles reflect a commitment to justice that transcends political and temporal boundaries.
Also read: Modi Escaped ‘Conspiracy’ Finding in Gujarat Riots, But His Real Sin Was Command Responsibility
The seminar culminated in the presentation of a draft Bill that embodied these principles, which was submitted to the Manmohan Singh government. Regrettably, though perhaps expectedly, the government chose not to act on it, leaving the proposal to gather dust. This missed opportunity highlighted the systemic reluctance to hold those in power accountable, reinforcing the urgency for India to adopt the principle of command responsibility.
Internationally, the principle has served as a vital tool for justice. The Nuremberg Trials set the precedent by holding Nazi officials accountable for war crimes, establishing that leaders cannot evade liability by claiming ignorance. The tribunals for Rwanda and Yugoslavia further cemented this doctrine, prosecuting figures like Jean-Paul Akayesu and Slobodan Milošević for enabling mass atrocities. These examples show that holding leaders accountable is not only possible but essential for justice.
In India, the path forward demands urgent and decisive action. With the recent revision of the Indian Penal Code into the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), it is evident that the revised law still lacks provisions for command responsibility. This glaring omission perpetuates the culture of impunity for those in power. To address this, either the BNS must be amended to incorporate command responsibility, or better still, an entirely new law must be enacted.
Command responsibility is not just a legal necessity but a moral imperative. It reaffirms that leadership is a responsibility, not a shield against accountability. By adopting this principle, India can align itself with international standards and ensure justice for victims of past atrocities. Justice Suresh’s insights, rooted in the UN Convention on Genocide, offer a framework for addressing these challenges and preventing history from repeating itself.
Teesta Setalvad, a prominent human rights activist, has consistently highlighted the lack of state accountability in instances of targeted violence. In an interview, she had remarked, “The country had rarely seen accountability of the state as far as targeted violence is concerned.”
Her observation underscores the systemic failures that allow perpetrators in positions of authority to evade justice, reinforcing the need for legal reforms to address command responsibility.
For a country scarred by repeated communal violence, embracing command responsibility is not merely an act of justice – it is a promise of a more equitable future. It is a measure that is necessary to ensure that the most heinous crimes against humanity, such as those which occurred in 1984, 1993 and 2002 are not repeated, and the hapless victims receive justice.
Raghavan Srinivasan is an author, political activist and president of the Lok Raj Sangathan, which works to enlighten citizens on their electoral and political rights.
This piece was first published on The India Cable – a premium newsletter from The Wire & Galileo Ideas – and has been republished here. To subscribe to The India Cable, click here.