Introduction
The Supreme Court on August 14 agreed to hear a fresh plea filed by the CBI challenging the Allahabad High Court’s verdict that acquitted Surendra Koli in the 2006 Nithari serial killings, once again pulling Surendra Koli into the never-ending maze of the criminal justice system.
The Nithari killings came to light in December 2006 when the skeletal remains of several children were discovered in a drain behind a house in Noida, Uttar Pradesh. Surendra Koli, a domestic help, and his employer, Moninder Singh Pandher, were arrested as the primary suspects. The case shocked the nation due to its gruesome nature, with allegations of serial killings, sexual assault, and even cannibalism.
Koli’s journey through the criminal justice system has been nothing short of a rollercoaster ride, marked by multiple convictions, death sentences, acquittals, and legal reversals. Between 2009 and 2017, Koli was convicted and sentenced to death in multiple cases related to the Nithari killings (see here, here and here). The special CBI court found him guilty of rape, murder, and destruction of evidence in several instances. Then, in February 2011, the Supreme Court of India upheld the death sentence against Koli, seemingly sealing his fate. However, in January 2015, the Allahabad High Court commuted Koli’s death sentence to life imprisonment, citing an “inordinate delay” in deciding his mercy petition.
Despite the commutation, Koli continued to face trials in other related cases (see here, here and here). In July 2017, both Koli and Pandher were again sentenced to death by the CBI Court in Ghaziabad. In a shocking turn of events, on October 16, 2023, the Allahabad High Court acquitted both Koli and Pandher of all charges, citing a lack of convincing evidence beyond their confessions.
The case of Surendra Koli, one of the main accused in the infamous Nithari killings, presents a stark illustration of the deep-rooted issues plaguing India’s criminal justice system, particularly in relation to capital punishment. Through this blog, the author aims to demonstrate how the repeated convictions, acquittals, and legal reversals in Koli’s case not only demonstrate a mockery of justice but also highlight the fundamental flaws in India’s death penalty framework.
To this extent, first, the author highlights the troubling contrast between Koli’s multiple death sentences and eventual acquittal. The blog emphasises the High Court’s criticism of the investigation and problematic reliance on confessions. Second, it then examines three critical issues: psychological torture of prolonged death row confinement, arbitrary sentencing, and the problematic application of the “rarest of rare” doctrine from Bachan Singh.
Third, the author tries to elevate the discussion to philosophical considerations, examining fundamental questions about human dignity and punishment’s purpose. The author aims to transcend the specific case to question whether any death penalty system can be justified in an imperfect justice system. Lastly, the author concludes by synthesising these elements, using Koli’s case to argue for comprehensive death penalty reform in India, dwelling on the need to reconsider capital punishment in a modern democracy.
A Mockery of Justice
Koli’s convoluted legal journey raises serious questions about the integrity and effectiveness of India’s criminal justice system, particularly in cases involving the death penalty. The stark contrast between multiple convictions and the eventual acquittal points to a troubling inconsistency in the judicial process. How can a person be deemed guilty enough for the death penalty in multiple instances, only to be later acquitted entirely?
The Allahabad High Court’s scathing remarks in its 2023 judgement about the “casual and perfunctory manner” of the investigation raise doubts about the entire foundation of the case against Koli. If the investigation was indeed flawed, how did it lead to multiple convictions and death sentences? The court’s observation that there was a lack of convincing evidence other than the confessions of the accused is particularly troubling. It suggests that Koli may have been convicted and sentenced to death primarily based on potentially coerced confessions.
Throughout this legal odyssey, Koli has lived under the shadow of execution for over a decade and a half. This prolonged period of uncertainty, where one oscillates between hope and despair, is possibly the most inhumane form of punishment in itself.
The Death Penalty Framework: Punishment or Torture?
Koli’s case brings into sharp focus the inherent problems with India’s death penalty framework. Firstly, the prolonged period Koli spent on death row, never knowing which day might be his last, raises the question: Is the actual execution the punishment, or has the psychological torture of death row become the punishment itself?
The constant threat of imminent death can lead to severe psychological distress, anxiety, and depression. This mental anguish is one of the most cruel and unusual forms of punishment, violating basic human rights. If we consider the psychological trauma of death row as a significant punishment in itself, then the actual execution becomes a second punishment.
In Koli’s case, the years spent under the shadow of execution, coupled with the repeated reversals of his legal status, arguably constituted a form of psychological torture that goes beyond the intended punishment of the death penalty itself.
Secondly, the repeated flip-flops in Koli’s case demonstrate the arbitrary nature of death penalty sentencing. If the highest courts in the land can’t consistently determine guilt or innocence, how can they justify imposing an irreversible punishment? If different courts and judges can come to radically different conclusions about the same case, it suggests that the application of the death penalty is more dependent on individual interpretations than on a consistent, objective framework. Even within the context of individualized sentencing and judicial discretion, there must be adherence to a standardised and consistent process when dealing with such cases.
Thirdly, Bachan Singh established that the death penalty should be used only in the “rarest of rare” cases. However, Koli’s case shows how subjective and inconsistent this standard can be in practice. The death penalty is irreversible, yet Koli’s case demonstrates a high degree of uncertainty in the judicial process. This contradiction poses a serious ethical dilemma. The possibility that an innocent person could be executed looms large in cases like Koli’s. The final acquittal, even if temporary, casts doubt on all previous convictions and sentences. This raises the chilling possibility that Koli could have been executed based on a conviction that was later overturned. Now, the initiation of another trial steps all over any notions of consistency or justice.
In Indian legal history, there has not been any officially documented case where a person was executed and later proven innocent through a post-execution reversal. This is partly because once an execution is carried out, there isn’t typically a mechanism for posthumous review of the case in Indian jurisprudence. However, this absence of documented wrongful executions doesn’t necessarily mean they haven’t occurred – it might reflect the limitations of our review systems and historical record-keeping.
The case of Harbans Singh presents a particularly troubling example of how close India has come to such a scenario. In this case, three co-accused were given death sentences. Due to different benches hearing their appeals, one accused was acquitted, another’s sentence was reduced to life imprisonment, while Harbans Singh’s death sentence was confirmed. It was only through a fortunate coincidence that Justice Bhagwati learned of this disparity before Singh’s execution could be carried out, leading to his sentence being commuted to life imprisonment.
Harbans Singh’s case should serve as a crucial warning about the irreversible nature of capital punishment and the fallibility of the justice system. Such cases reinforce concerns raised in the Koli case about the fundamental problems with implementing the death penalty in a system where judicial errors are possible and sometimes discovered years after the initial conviction.
Beyond Guilt or Innocence: The Ethics of the Death Penalty
While the question of Koli’s guilt remains unresolved, his case forces us to confront broader ethical questions about the death penalty. Regardless of the crimes he may or may not have committed, does subjecting Koli to this prolonged legal uncertainty respect the basic tenets of human dignity? The prolonged legal uncertainty that Koli faced, oscillating between death sentences and acquittals, can be seen as amounting to a form of psychological torture. Even when imprisoned for life, his situation becomes tantamount to that of being on death row. The process of repeatedly sentencing someone to death, then reprieving them, and then sentencing them again can lead to a dehumanisation of the individual. It reduces a person to a legal case, potentially stripping away their inherent human worth. Even if we accept that punishment is necessary for serious crimes, such punishment should still maintain a basic level of human dignity. The question is whether the current system, with its prolonged uncertainties, meets this standard.
How a society treats even its worst offenders is often seen as a reflection of its values and commitment to human rights. The treatment of Koli raises questions about the broader societal approach to human dignity. It reveals a paradox in a legal system that aims to protect human dignity through its laws yet potentially violates that same principle in its application of the death penalty.
If the purpose of punishment is reform, deterrence, or even retribution, does the current system achieve any of these goals effectively? Clearly, the death penalty precludes any possibility of reform or rehabilitation. In Koli’s case, the prolonged legal process doesn’t serve any reformative purpose either.
There’s little evidence to suggest that the death penalty serves as a more effective deterrent than other forms of punishment. The drawn-out nature of Koli’s case may actually diminish any deterrent effect. While retribution might be served by the death penalty, the repeated reversals in Koli’s case create a situation where retribution is threatened, then withdrawn, then threatened again – a process that may be crueller than a swift application of punishment. Then again, does the process of the death penalty itself become a form of retribution?
Conclusion
The story of Surendra Koli serves as a damning indictment of India’s death penalty framework. The repeated convictions, acquittals, and legal reversals have not only made a mockery of the criminal justice system but have also subjected Koli to a form of punishment that goes beyond the bounds of human dignity and ethical jurisprudence.
While the horrific nature of the alleged crimes naturally evokes strong emotions and a desire for severe punishment, Koli’s legal journey forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about the fallibility of our justice system and the inherent problems with irreversible punishments.
As India continues to grapple with these complex issues, Koli should serve as a catalyst for a broader societal discussion on the ethics, effectiveness, and necessity of capital punishment. It is a stark reminder that in matters of life and death, the margin for error in our justice system should be non-existent – a standard that current practices clearly fail to meet.
As we move forward, India must reevaluate its stance on the death penalty, considering not just its legal implications but also its moral and ethical dimensions. Koli’s story serves as a clarion call for reform, urging us to construct a more humane, consistent, and infallible system of justice that upholds the highest ethical standards while addressing society’s need for security and closure. The time has come for India to seriously consider whether the death penalty, with all its inherent flaws and irreversible consequences, can ever truly align with the principles of a modern, just, and compassionate democracy.
This blog is written by Saksham Agrawal, B.A. LL.B