Karnataka's criminal justice system is failing some of its most vulnerable citizens, and the evidence is stark. When Chief Minister Siddaramaiah himself admits that the conviction rate in cases under the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act is low, it points to a structural collapse.
However, what happens after acquittal is even more troubling. A recent study across Tumakuru, Chikkamagaluru, and Raichur reveals an abysmal appeal rate of just 0.2%. In effect, once a trial court dismisses a case, the system simply gives up. This appeal gap is a moral failure. Public prosecutors, tasked with safeguarding victims' interests, appear reluctant to challenge acquittals even when procedural lapses or overlooked evidence are evident. The proposal to subject prosecutors to half-yearly performance reviews is, therefore, a necessary step towards accountability. Without scrutiny, prosecutorial discretion risks degenerating into indifference. For victims, the consequences are devastating. A low conviction rate already erodes faith in the system; a near-total absence of appeals extinguishes it. This not only discourages reporting but also emboldens perpetrators, reinforcing cycles of caste-based violence and impunity.
The broader national context underscores the gravity of the problem. States such as Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan, and Odisha consistently report high levels of atrocities against Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes, ranging from land dispossession and social boycotts to assaults and sexual violence. These are manifestations of entrenched social hierarchies. India's legal framework is robust on paper. Article 17 abolishes untouchability, while Article 15 prohibits caste-based discrimination. These constitutional guarantees are reinforced by statutes such as the Protection of Civil Rights Act and the SC and ST (Prevention of Atrocities) Act, 1989, which provide for enhanced punishments, special courts, and victim rehabilitation. The law recognises that such crimes are not merely individual offences but targeted acts of oppression. Yet, the gap between law and enforcement remains glaring. Investigative lapses, hostile witnesses, and judicial delays weaken cases long before they reach a conclusion, and the near-absence of appeals compounds these failures.
The solution lies in systemic reform. Courts have often criticised the appointment of prosecutors based on political affiliation rather than merit. It is, thus, vital to rigorously evaluate prosecutors and penalise underperformance. Police investigations need professionalisation and insulation from local pressures, while witness protection must become real, not rhetorical. Above all, the State must treat acquittals not as closure but as a checkpoint. Justice cannot end at the trial court; when the State fails to pursue it further, it effectively abandons those it is constitutionally bound to protect.