<p>The walls at the sub-jail in rural Karnataka were peeling plaster. A small collection of Hindu gods stared down from these walls, their placid expressions keeping watch on the scene below them, a small room filled with a desk, a few visiting researchers, jail staff, and small cups of coffee. With a job like his, it’s small wonder the jail superintendent felt the need for divine guidance. </p>.<p>The purpose of sub-jails is to hold “undertrial” prisoners--that is, those being held for the period before and during their trial, meaning they have not yet been found guilty and sentenced. The prisoners are not segregated by the seriousness of their offence, creating a serious danger of petty criminals becoming ‘hardened’ in such jails. Furthermore, since sub-jails are controlled by the Revenue Department and not by the Prisons Department, they are subject to less oversight and suffer from a cripplingly low budget. This one is no exception. A forlorn biology textbook hanging from a rope on an outside building is the only sign of self-improvement available. In fact, there are no programs for work, education, or any activity at all. “We lock people up for stealing 500 rupees and confine them for long periods, spending lakhs of rupees, while they sit around and do nothing,” the superintendent lamented. “It’s so unproductive.”</p>.<p>Over two-thirds of inmates in Indian jails are in pretrial detention. This contributes to chronic overcrowding, with the average occupancy being around 114%, leading to further issues of health and crowd control. According to Amnesty International, Muslims, Dalits, and Adivasis are disproportionately represented, making up over half the population of undertrial prisoners. India also suffers from a high rate of undertrial non-production-- that is, delays in bringing accused persons to trial, a constitutional violation. In 2014-15, for example, for every 100 officers requested to escort prisoners to court, Uttar Pradesh police sent only 62, delaying court appearances and condemning un-sentenced people to languish in jail for longer. In Rajasthan, over 5,000 instances of non-production occur every month, on average. Legal aid is another problem. The constitution guarantees free legal assistance, but in truth most publicly-appointed, poorly-paid legal-aid lawyers visit each prison in their state only once per month, and often not at all. </p>.<p>While the Home Ministry and the Supreme Court have in the past been vocal about protecting the rights of undertrials, the procedures they have outlined are scarcely followed. Inside the rural Karnataka jail, prisoners stared from the bars, sweat-dappled faces peering out. "People don’t come to visit, normally," says the superintendent. “When they do, the prisoners are happy. It’s a sort of freedom, I suppose.” </p>.<p>As we left the compound, the metal door, battered and peeling like the rest of the place, clanged shut with a not unpleasant tone of finality. Here, in front of the jail, motorbikes followed the ropey road into the hinterland one way, the ramshackle town centre the other. The scene was like a Raj-era folio portrait, ivory-coloured livestock daubed here and there, a picturesque advertising board or two. And inside, behind us, something else entirely. Overhead, a muted grey sky seemed to heighten the liberty I felt then, a sort of Camusian joy. The world was, all of a sudden, more open than I had left it. </p>.<p>When we read about horrific crimes in the papers --rape, murder, dacoity--it is only human to want vengeance, to want the perpetrators to suffer as their innocent victims did. We must, however, remember two things. Firstly, pre-trial prisoners have not been found guilty by a court, and may well be innocent. Nothing can forgive the wrongful imprisonment of an innocent person, and yet pre-trial detention creates huge danger of this happening. Secondly, let us say that such people really are guilty of what they have been accused of. That would still not excuse the abuse that is being perpetrated against them. India is rightly proud of its democratic nature -- and what makes India democratic is that it is a country ruled by law, not visceral desires and primal urges. If we want to ensure that the constitution is followed, that all members of society are protected from abuse, we must reform the Indian pre-trial detention system. </p>.<p><em>(The writer is a student of Columbia University)</em></p>
<p>The walls at the sub-jail in rural Karnataka were peeling plaster. A small collection of Hindu gods stared down from these walls, their placid expressions keeping watch on the scene below them, a small room filled with a desk, a few visiting researchers, jail staff, and small cups of coffee. With a job like his, it’s small wonder the jail superintendent felt the need for divine guidance. </p>.<p>The purpose of sub-jails is to hold “undertrial” prisoners--that is, those being held for the period before and during their trial, meaning they have not yet been found guilty and sentenced. The prisoners are not segregated by the seriousness of their offence, creating a serious danger of petty criminals becoming ‘hardened’ in such jails. Furthermore, since sub-jails are controlled by the Revenue Department and not by the Prisons Department, they are subject to less oversight and suffer from a cripplingly low budget. This one is no exception. A forlorn biology textbook hanging from a rope on an outside building is the only sign of self-improvement available. In fact, there are no programs for work, education, or any activity at all. “We lock people up for stealing 500 rupees and confine them for long periods, spending lakhs of rupees, while they sit around and do nothing,” the superintendent lamented. “It’s so unproductive.”</p>.<p>Over two-thirds of inmates in Indian jails are in pretrial detention. This contributes to chronic overcrowding, with the average occupancy being around 114%, leading to further issues of health and crowd control. According to Amnesty International, Muslims, Dalits, and Adivasis are disproportionately represented, making up over half the population of undertrial prisoners. India also suffers from a high rate of undertrial non-production-- that is, delays in bringing accused persons to trial, a constitutional violation. In 2014-15, for example, for every 100 officers requested to escort prisoners to court, Uttar Pradesh police sent only 62, delaying court appearances and condemning un-sentenced people to languish in jail for longer. In Rajasthan, over 5,000 instances of non-production occur every month, on average. Legal aid is another problem. The constitution guarantees free legal assistance, but in truth most publicly-appointed, poorly-paid legal-aid lawyers visit each prison in their state only once per month, and often not at all. </p>.<p>While the Home Ministry and the Supreme Court have in the past been vocal about protecting the rights of undertrials, the procedures they have outlined are scarcely followed. Inside the rural Karnataka jail, prisoners stared from the bars, sweat-dappled faces peering out. "People don’t come to visit, normally," says the superintendent. “When they do, the prisoners are happy. It’s a sort of freedom, I suppose.” </p>.<p>As we left the compound, the metal door, battered and peeling like the rest of the place, clanged shut with a not unpleasant tone of finality. Here, in front of the jail, motorbikes followed the ropey road into the hinterland one way, the ramshackle town centre the other. The scene was like a Raj-era folio portrait, ivory-coloured livestock daubed here and there, a picturesque advertising board or two. And inside, behind us, something else entirely. Overhead, a muted grey sky seemed to heighten the liberty I felt then, a sort of Camusian joy. The world was, all of a sudden, more open than I had left it. </p>.<p>When we read about horrific crimes in the papers --rape, murder, dacoity--it is only human to want vengeance, to want the perpetrators to suffer as their innocent victims did. We must, however, remember two things. Firstly, pre-trial prisoners have not been found guilty by a court, and may well be innocent. Nothing can forgive the wrongful imprisonment of an innocent person, and yet pre-trial detention creates huge danger of this happening. Secondly, let us say that such people really are guilty of what they have been accused of. That would still not excuse the abuse that is being perpetrated against them. India is rightly proud of its democratic nature -- and what makes India democratic is that it is a country ruled by law, not visceral desires and primal urges. If we want to ensure that the constitution is followed, that all members of society are protected from abuse, we must reform the Indian pre-trial detention system. </p>.<p><em>(The writer is a student of Columbia University)</em></p>