In Bihar, policing stays handcuffed to an old law

Hindustan Times

a day ago

In December 2018, young industrialist Gunjan Khemka fell to a single headshot outside his factory in Hajipur. In January 2021, Indigo's Patna station manager Rupesh Kumar Singh was riddled with six bullets at his apartment gate. By mid-2025, it had become all too common: A JD(U) district secretary in Khagaria, two businessmen in Chhapra, a BJP general secretary in Patna, and finally, Gopal Khemka (Gunjan's father) shot as he stepped out of his SUV, 50 metres from a police outpost. Each killing was quicker than the last and carried the same message: We can kill whoever we want, whenever we choose, and the law will arrive just in time to photograph the corpse.
A pattern emerges across these six high-profile murders: textbook precision, minimal forensic residue, no reliable witnesses, and investigations that collapse before reaching a judge. This is the Patna Protocol — a doctrine of strategic gangland violence, not rooted in bravado or political conspiracy, but in institutional failure — a police force still handcuffed to the 1861 Police Act, drafted by colonial administrators less interested in solving crimes than in keeping a conquered population subdued.
This law's first principle was control, not protection. After the 1857 rebellion, the British needed a constabulary to quell uprisings, enforce taxes, and watch the population. Scientific investigation and specialised homicide squads weren't part of the script. The genius of the design lay in under-training: A constable with a lathi was a symbol that Crown authority stretched from cantonment to every muddy lane. That legacy still defines the Bihar Police. Patrolling is mandatory; investigation is optional.
Consider the numbers. Bihar's sanctioned police strength is 115 per 100,000 people, but actual deployment is just 76 — well below the UN-recommended 222. Nearly 50% of positions are vacant, as per recent DGP statements. Less than 5% of officers are certified in forensic collection of ballistic evidence. The state has only one working forensic lab — short on staff, power, and supplies. By the time a 9-mm shell casing gets from crime scene to lab and back, political winds may have shifted. Witnesses vanish. Evidence disappears. Cases lose shape.
This is how the Protocol thrives. Bihar's average emergency response time is 34 minutes. UP's UP-100 helpline averages under 15 minutes in urban areas. Globally, sub-5-minute responses raise arrest probabilities from 20% to over 60%. In Bihar, a 60-second killing meets a patrol 33 minutes later, just in time for photos.
Would bigger budgets solve the rot? Only if doctrine changes with the hardware. In 2015, Bihar got Scorpio SUVs for district police. Many now sit idle, with no drivers, no fuel. Patrolling has become ceremonial. When a colonial-era force is handed modern tools, it finds colonial-era uses for them.
Contrast this with New York City in the 1990s. The NYPD's CompStat linked promotions to case resolution, not patrol hours. Lab capacity expanded. Investigators were trained to build trial-ready cases. Convictions rose. Confidence returned. Bihar doesn't lack brave officers; it lacks an institutional mandate that rewards forensic certainty over lathi-wielding optics.
Courts don't help either. Overburdened and under-resourced, they admit forensic evidence only if protocols are followed, often impossible at the local thana. Some district armoires have just one non-functional microscope. One police station stores all evidence in a disused broom closet. Chains of custody break before trial begins.
Consequently, citizens lose faith. Some turn to illegal arms; others quietly pay extortion. Inaction is paid for in cash, in silence, and in blood.
Reform must begin at the source: Repeal the 1861 Police Act. The 2006 Model Police Act (still languishing in legislative limbo) offered an alternative: independent oversight, scientific training, fixed tenures, insulation from political interference.
Because the Patna Protocol remains undefeated, its architects grow bolder with every cold case, with every family that gives up.
In our republic, the Police exist to protect, not suppress. The law cannot serve administrators at the expense of the administered. Bihar's people must ask whether safety is a matter of charity or a constitutional right. If it is the latter, they must demand institutions built to protect, not dominate. The 1861 Act was written to subdue them. It's time to write something better; something worthy of citizens, not subjects.
Khagesh Gautam is professor of law, Jindal Global Law School. The views expressed are personal.