The Supreme Court is seized of a plea raising an important question concerning the permissible limits of judicial supervision over police investigations arising from the protests at Delhi’s Jantar Mantar. The proceedings, involving Cockroach Janta Party founder Abhijeet Dipke, bring into focus a recurring tension in criminal jurisprudence: while investigation of offences is ordinarily regarded as the domain of the police, constitutional courts cannot remain completely detached when allegations arise that investigative powers are being exercised arbitrarily, selectively or in violation of fundamental rights. The controversy therefore goes beyond the particular FIRs registered in connection with the protests. It concerns the institutional boundary between the police and the judiciary and the extent to which a constitutional court can intervene without effectively assuming the role of an investigating agency.
The background to the dispute lies in the prolonged agitation led by Dipke and supporters at Jantar Mantar over alleged irregularities surrounding competitive examinations and demands for governmental accountability. The protest began as a political and public campaign and continued for several weeks. Dipke had initially obtained permission to hold the demonstration at Jantar Mantar, subject to conditions imposed by the authorities. When the protest continued beyond the permitted period and attempts were made to extend or intensify the agitation, tensions developed between the organisers and the Delhi Police. The situation subsequently escalated during a proposed march towards Parliament, following which several FIRs were registered in relation to allegations including obstruction of public servants, assault, damage to public property and other offences.
The events produced sharply competing narratives. The protesters alleged excessive use of force and misconduct by the police, while the police maintained that the crowd had violated restrictions and that violence, including stone-pelting and damage to property, had occurred during the confrontation. Reports indicated injuries on both sides, and the police proceeded to identify persons allegedly involved in the incidents through available video and CCTV footage. Dipke subsequently sought legal recourse against what he described as excessive police action, while authorities maintained that criminal investigation was necessary to determine responsibility for the alleged offences.
It is against this background that the question of judicial supervision becomes particularly significant. Indian criminal procedure has traditionally maintained a functional distinction between investigation and adjudication. The police investigate allegations, collect evidence, examine witnesses and determine whether the material gathered warrants submission of a charge-sheet. The judiciary subsequently determines questions of cognizance, bail, admissibility, trial and ultimately guilt or innocence. This division is not merely administrative. It reflects the principle that the institution responsible for investigating an offence should have sufficient operational independence to determine how evidence is collected, while the judiciary remains the ultimate constitutional and legal check on the exercise of State power.
The Supreme Court has repeatedly cautioned courts against interfering with an investigation merely because another investigative approach may appear preferable. Ordinarily, once a cognizable offence is disclosed, the investigating agency must be permitted to perform its statutory function without continuous judicial intervention. If courts were to direct every investigative step, determine which witness should be examined, prescribe what evidence should be collected or dictate the conclusions that the investigating officer should reach, the distinction between investigation and adjudication would effectively disappear.
That, however, is only one side of the legal equation. The Constitution does not create a sphere of police investigation that is immune from judicial scrutiny. Where the investigative process itself is alleged to be unlawful, mala fide, discriminatory or designed to harass an individual, constitutional courts possess the power to intervene. The purpose of such intervention is not ordinarily to conduct a parallel investigation but to ensure that the State exercises its investigative powers within the boundaries prescribed by law.
The Supreme Court’s jurisprudence has consequently developed a careful middle path. Investigation is principally a police function, but police power is not beyond constitutional review. Courts generally intervene only in exceptional circumstances, particularly where there is a credible allegation of abuse of process, a patent failure to perform a statutory duty, a violation of fundamental rights or circumstances demonstrating that the ordinary investigative machinery cannot reasonably be expected to act fairly.
The Jantar Mantar proceedings place this principle in a particularly sensitive context because the underlying allegations emerged from a political protest. The constitutional protection of speech and peaceful assembly under Articles 19(1)(a) and 19(1)(b) is central to any assessment of State action during demonstrations. These rights, however, are not absolute. The State may impose reasonable restrictions in the interests of public order and may regulate the time, place and manner of demonstrations. A protester cannot claim immunity from criminal law merely because the alleged offence occurred during a demonstration.
At the same time, the State cannot equate dissent with criminality. A person attending a demonstration does not automatically become criminally responsible for every unlawful act allegedly committed by another participant. Criminal liability must ordinarily be connected to the ingredients of the offence and the individual’s own conduct or legally recognised participation. The mere fact that a person was present at a protest cannot, by itself, substitute for proof of participation in violence, vandalism, assault or another specific criminal act.
This distinction assumes considerable importance in cases involving large demonstrations. When hundreds of people gather at one location, an incident involving a relatively small number of individuals can potentially result in a broad criminal investigation. The investigative agency must then distinguish between persons who peacefully participated in the protest and those against whom there is specific material indicating involvement in an offence. A failure to make that distinction can transform criminal law from a mechanism for individual accountability into an instrument of collective punishment.
The same constitutional principle must apply irrespective of the political character of the protest. If the police possess evidence that a particular protester assaulted an officer, damaged property or deliberately engaged in violence, the political message of the demonstration cannot provide immunity from prosecution. Conversely, if a person is targeted merely because he participated in an unpopular or politically inconvenient movement, the State would cross a constitutional boundary.
This is where Article 14 becomes relevant. Equality before law requires not only that legislation be formally equal but also that State power not be exercised arbitrarily or selectively. If similarly situated persons are subjected to criminal investigation on dramatically different standards because of their political affiliation, the resulting action could raise serious constitutional concerns. An allegation of selective prosecution, however, cannot rest merely on political disagreement. It must ultimately be examined against the evidence, the statutory framework and the manner in which the authorities have exercised their powers.
The judiciary therefore faces a difficult task in politically sensitive investigations. It must neither automatically accept the police version of events nor assume that allegations made by protesters are established facts. The proper judicial approach is to examine whether the investigative process is being conducted according to law and whether there are sufficient circumstances to justify exceptional intervention.
The controversy assumes added importance because the Delhi High Court has also been called upon to examine allegations concerning police conduct during the Jantar Mantar agitation. In proceedings relating to the protest, questions have been raised concerning the alleged surveillance of protesters and the manner in which police authorities recorded and monitored activities at the demonstration site. The Court sought clarification concerning compliance with established legal safeguards governing surveillance and privacy. These proceedings demonstrate that judicial scrutiny of State action need not necessarily mean judicial takeover of the investigation. Courts can require preservation of evidence, seek explanations from authorities and ensure compliance with constitutional safeguards without themselves determining criminal liability.
This distinction between supervision and substitution is likely to remain central to the Supreme Court’s consideration of the present controversy. Judicial supervision becomes constitutionally legitimate when it ensures that the police remain within the law. It becomes institutionally problematic when the court begins directing the investigative agency on the precise conclusions it must reach.
There is considerable precedent supporting this distinction. The Supreme Court has consistently held that investigation is ordinarily the exclusive domain of the police and that courts should be reluctant to interfere at the initial stage of a criminal case. At the same time, the Court has recognised that extraordinary constitutional powers can be exercised where the ordinary investigative machinery fails to protect the interests of justice. In appropriate cases, courts have transferred investigations to specialised agencies, ordered further investigation or intervened to prevent abuse of criminal process.
The power to quash criminal proceedings is another important judicial safeguard. The Supreme Court’s jurisprudence has repeatedly recognised that criminal proceedings may be terminated in exceptional circumstances where the allegations, even if taken at face value, do not disclose the ingredients of an offence, where the prosecution is manifestly attended by mala fides or where continuation of proceedings would constitute an abuse of the process of law. But the threshold is deliberately high because premature interference can prevent legitimate offences from being investigated.
The principle is especially important in FIR cases. An FIR is not a finding of guilt. It is the beginning of an investigative process. The registration of a criminal case does not mean that the allegations have been proved, nor does judicial refusal to quash an FIR amount to an affirmation of the prosecution’s version. The purpose of investigation is precisely to determine what evidence exists and whether the allegations can ultimately be established.
This becomes even more important when allegations concern public protests. A democratic State must possess the ability to investigate violence committed during demonstrations, particularly where police personnel or members of the public are injured and public property is damaged. But criminal law must not become a mechanism through which the State retrospectively characterises an entire protest as unlawful merely because some participants allegedly crossed legal boundaries.
The constitutional right to protest is not an absolute right to occupy public spaces indefinitely. The Supreme Court has previously recognised that demonstrations can be regulated when they interfere with the rights of other citizens or create serious public-order concerns. Authorities may impose reasonable conditions relating to timing, location, crowd size and movement. But restrictions must themselves remain constitutionally defensible. A permission regime cannot become a device for preventing dissent by imposing conditions that are impossible to comply with or by selectively denying permission to particular groups.
The Jantar Mantar events illustrate how quickly the distinction between lawful protest and law-and-order enforcement can become blurred. The authorities had permitted the demonstration for a particular period, while the organisers sought to continue the agitation in pursuit of their demands. When permission was not extended, police action followed. Subsequently, the confrontation surrounding the proposed Parliament march resulted in competing allegations of violence and excessive force.
The appropriate legal response cannot be determined merely by asking which side’s political narrative is more persuasive. It requires an examination of objective evidence. Video recordings, CCTV footage, photographs, medical records, police records and eyewitness accounts can potentially establish who did what and when. This is one reason why preservation of electronic evidence assumes such importance in contemporary protest-related litigation.
A judicial direction requiring authorities to preserve relevant footage is therefore fundamentally different from an order directing the police to reach a particular conclusion. The former protects the integrity of future adjudication; the latter risks compromising investigative independence. Courts must maintain that distinction carefully.
The controversy also highlights a broader problem concerning the increasing use of criminal law in political disputes. In a democracy, criminal investigation must be insulated as far as possible from political considerations. The fact that a person is an opponent of the government cannot become a reason to investigate him. Equally, the fact that a person is politically influential cannot become a reason to shield him from investigation. The neutrality of criminal law depends upon the same standard being applied in both directions.
The constitutional legitimacy of the police therefore depends not simply upon the existence of investigative powers but upon their even-handed exercise. When an investigation concerns a politically sensitive protest, the need for neutrality becomes even greater because every investigative action can acquire a political interpretation.
That is why the judiciary’s supervisory role cannot simply be dismissed as interference. The constitutional courts are ultimately responsible for ensuring that State power does not cross legal boundaries. If there is credible material suggesting that an investigation is being manipulated, evidence suppressed, individuals selectively targeted or constitutional rights systematically violated, judicial intervention may be necessary.
But the opposite danger is equally real. If courts begin supervising ordinary investigative decisions at every stage, criminal justice can become paralysed. Investigating officers may hesitate to act without judicial approval, accused persons may attempt to convert every investigative disagreement into a constitutional challenge and courts may be drawn into factual controversies that are better resolved through the trial process.
The institutional solution is therefore one of judicial restraint combined with judicial vigilance.
The police should ordinarily be allowed to investigate. Courts should ordinarily refrain from substituting their own assessment of evidence during the investigation. But where a constitutional violation is demonstrated, courts must remain willing to act decisively.
This principle also protects the judiciary itself. Courts cannot become the operational arm of criminal investigation. Their legitimacy depends upon remaining neutral adjudicators. If judges begin determining investigative strategy, they may subsequently be required to assess the very evidence whose collection they directed. That can create institutional complications and undermine the appearance of judicial impartiality.
The present plea thus presents an opportunity for the Supreme Court to clarify the precise contours of judicial supervision in politically sensitive investigations. Such clarification would be useful not merely for the Jantar Mantar cases but for future cases involving demonstrations, political movements, activists and public campaigns.
The question is particularly relevant under India’s evolving criminal-procedure framework. The Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita has replaced the earlier Code of Criminal Procedure, but the fundamental institutional division between investigation and adjudication remains important. The police continue to possess statutory investigative powers, while magistrates and constitutional courts retain mechanisms to ensure that those powers are not exercised unlawfully.
The controversy also brings Article 21 into sharp focus. Personal liberty cannot depend upon an assumption that every investigation will be fair. The constitutional guarantee of life and personal liberty requires procedural safeguards against arbitrary State action. At the same time, Article 21 cannot be interpreted as conferring immunity from legitimate investigation. A person suspected of committing a cognizable offence can be investigated in accordance with law, and where statutory conditions are satisfied, coercive measures may follow.
The constitutional challenge is therefore to distinguish lawful investigation from investigative harassment.
That distinction cannot be determined solely by the identity of the accused or the political character of the case. It must be determined by the manner in which the law is applied.
Another important issue is the principle of proportionality. Even where authorities possess a legitimate objective, the measures adopted to achieve that objective must bear a reasonable relationship to the problem they seek to address. During a protest, maintaining public order may justify police presence, restrictions on movement or controlled dispersal. It does not automatically justify unlimited force, indiscriminate surveillance or the criminalisation of peaceful participation.
Similarly, protesters may exercise their constitutional rights, but those rights do not extend to assaulting officers, destroying property or preventing others from exercising their own rights. The State and protesters therefore operate within the same constitutional framework of reciprocal responsibility.
The Supreme Court’s examination of the plea must ultimately move beyond the competing narratives surrounding the Jantar Mantar events. The legal inquiry should focus upon the FIRs, the statutory provisions invoked, the evidence collected, the individual roles attributed to the accused, the nature of the alleged offences and the manner in which the investigation has proceeded. Only such an evidence-based approach can prevent the litigation from becoming another extension of the political contest that produced the protests in the first place.
There is also a broader democratic lesson here. The right to protest is meaningful only when citizens can dissent without fearing that political disagreement itself will automatically expose them to criminal prosecution. But the rule of law is equally meaningful only when those participating in a protest remain accountable for genuine criminal conduct. A democratic State cannot choose between public order and civil liberties as though one must necessarily destroy the other.
The constitutional objective is to protect both.
The Supreme Court’s role, therefore, is not to decide whether the Jantar Mantar protest was politically justified. Nor is it to determine, at the investigative stage, which side was morally or politically correct. Its role is narrower but more important: to ensure that the criminal process operates according to law and that neither the police nor the protesters are permitted to place themselves outside constitutional limits.
The proceedings also underline why judicial supervision should not be confused with judicial control. Courts can demand transparency, protect evidence, safeguard individual liberty and intervene in exceptional cases without taking over the investigative function. Such limited supervision strengthens rather than weakens the rule of law because it ensures that police autonomy operates within constitutional boundaries.
Ultimately, the controversy surrounding the Jantar Mantar FIRs raises a foundational question about the administration of criminal justice in a democracy: who watches the investigator when the investigator is accused of exceeding the law? The answer cannot be that courts must supervise every investigative decision. But neither can it be that police investigation is an area into which constitutional courts may never enter.
The constitutional balance requires something more nuanced. Investigation must remain primarily with the police because effective crime detection requires operational independence and specialised expertise. Judicial review must remain available because police power, like every other form of State power, is subject to the Constitution.
That balance becomes especially important when the accused are political protesters. The State must be able to prosecute genuine violence, vandalism and obstruction without fear of political criticism. At the same time, the criminal process must never be used as a substitute for political disagreement or as a mechanism to silence lawful dissent.
The Jantar Mantar litigation therefore has significance far beyond the individuals involved. It concerns the boundaries of State power, the autonomy of investigative agencies, the constitutional protection of protest and the responsibility of courts to protect liberty without assuming executive functions.
The ultimate principle should remain clear: a court should not become the investigating agency, but an investigating agency cannot become a law unto itself. Between these two extremes lies the constitutional space in which legitimate investigation, individual liberty and democratic dissent must coexist.
For the Supreme Court, the challenge will be to preserve that space. If the Court intervenes too readily, it risks undermining the independence of criminal investigation. If it refuses to intervene despite credible evidence of abuse, it risks reducing constitutional remedies to formal promises. The strength of judicial review lies precisely in its ability to maintain this difficult middle ground restraining unlawful State action while allowing lawful investigation to proceed.
The Jantar Mantar controversy thus presents an important opportunity to reaffirm that distinction. Protesters must answer for offences they actually commit. Police officers must answer for unlawful actions they actually undertake. Neither side should be judged merely by association, political identity or competing narratives. And the judiciary must ensure that the criminal process remains what it is constitutionally intended to be: a mechanism for discovering truth and enforcing law, not an instrument for rewarding political loyalty or punishing political dissent.
