Moral Policing: A Disturbing Drift From Constitutional Values
Heramba Nath
Through the years, Indian democracy has prided itself on being a vast confluence of cultures, beliefs, lifestyles and freedoms. It has weathered storms of political upheaval, social transformation, and global scrutiny, emerging each time with its foundational principles—liberty, equality and fraternity—largely intact. Yet today, amid the promise of modernity, a quiet yet corrosive force threatens the sanctity of these values: the rising tide of moral policing.
The term, while seemingly innocuous, cloaks a deeply regressive and troubling phenomenon. Across cities and towns, self-appointed custodians of morality routinely interfere in the private choices of individuals—chastising couples for meeting in public, condemning women for their attire, and vilifying anyone who dares to live outside the bounds of conventional expectation. These are not isolated incidents, but an increasingly normalised pattern, manifesting in public harassment, online trolling, and even violent retribution.
Such behaviour runs directly counter to the constitutional promise of personal liberty. In a democratic and pluralistic society like ours, what an individual chooses to wear, whom they befriend, or how they live their life is not the business of vigilantes with narrow mindsets. So long as one’s conduct remains within the ambit of law, no group or individual has the right to impose arbitrary moral codes. Yet moral policing thrives—sometimes in the name of ‘culture’, other times in the guise of ‘tradition’—but almost always at the cost of dignity, choice, and fundamental rights.
It is important to ask: who decides what is moral? And under what authority? Morality in a civilised society must evolve with time, must be rooted in empathy and ethics, not in coercion or intimidation. When young couples are chased out of parks, when women are judged not for their capabilities but their clothing, when consensual relationships are condemned, it is not morality that is being defended—it is patriarchy, prejudice and power masquerading as virtue.
The danger becomes greater when these actions find tacit approval or silence from institutions that are supposed to uphold rights. In several cases, law enforcement either turns a blind eye or sides with the aggressors, citing vague notions of public order or decency. The line between protector and persecutor then blurs dangerously.
In the North East, where tradition and progress often walk hand in hand, such tendencies are particularly jarring. Assam, with its rich heritage of reformist thinking—from Srimanta Sankardeva’s inclusive spiritual vision to Jyoti Prasad Agarwala’s progressive literature—has long been a land where liberty and identity have coexisted. To see this cultural canvas sullied by moral policing is not only unfortunate but antithetical to the Assamese ethos.
One cannot ignore that the targets of moral policing are often young people, especially women, and those from minority or marginalised backgrounds. It is, in essence, an assertion of control—over bodies, behaviour, and boundaries. It feeds on fear, shame, and societal pressure. It fosters a climate where freedom becomes conditional, and expression a liability.
To counter this, we do not need more policing of morals, but a greater cultivation of morality in its truest sense: rooted in mutual respect, tolerance, and compassion. Educational institutions must encourage critical thinking and gender sensitivity. Communities must learn to accommodate, not alienate, those who are different. Families must teach values, not restrictions. The media must question, not sensationalise.
Let us also recognise that freedom is not merely a legal right; it is a lived experience. A society where a woman feels unsafe in asserting her choices, or a couple fears reprisal for expressing affection, is a society faltering at its moral core. The test of a mature democracy lies not in its conformity, but in its ability to embrace difference.
India is at a crossroads—aspiring to lead globally in innovation, economy, and diplomacy. But if we cannot ensure something as basic as individual dignity within our own streets, our progress will remain hollow. The strength of any civilisation lies in its ability to respect individual conscience, not in its attempts to control it.
As citizens, we must speak out against this creeping normalisation of control and shame. We must uphold the constitutional spirit in our homes, schools, media, and public discourse. Let us not allow the loud few to silence the quiet right of many. In protecting the freedom of others, we protect the soul of our democracy.
The true moral responsibility of our times is not to police others, but to preserve the freedom that belongs to us all.