The public lynching of Hariom, a young man from the Valmiki community in Fatehpur, Uttar Pradesh, by a group of men in Unchahar, stands as another chilling reminder of the growing culture of hate and impunity in the state. What makes this tragedy more disturbing is the apparent normalization of such brutality and the silence of those in power who are expected to uphold justice. When mob violence becomes entertainment, filmed and shared with pride, the rot runs deeper than mere lawlessness—it speaks of a society losing its moral compass.
Hariom had travelled from Fatehpur to Unchahar for work when he was mistaken for a thief. Instead of calling the police, a mob decided to take the law into its own hands. They tied him to a pole and beat him mercilessly, as if his life had no value. In the video that went viral, one of the attackers can be seen pressing his foot on Hariom’s neck—a horrifying image of humiliation and dehumanization. My friend Dheeraj Kumar from Fatehpur, who happens to be a distant relative of Hariom, informed me about the incident. Deeply shaken after seeing the video, he sent it to me. Yet, as a matter of principle, I do not share violent images or videos on social media. Violence should never be consumed as spectacle; it must compel reflection, not voyeurism.
The Unchahar police have arrested six accused and are reportedly looking for six more. It is imperative that a watertight case be built so that the culprits face the maximum punishment possible under the law. No leniency, no excuses. The act was not just a crime against an individual but against the very spirit of humanity and justice. However, the larger question remains: why do such incidents continue unabated despite repeated judicial interventions and widespread condemnation?
Mob lynching in India did not begin yesterday. It gained its grotesque legitimacy with the killing of Mohammad Akhlaq in Dadri, Noida, in 2015. From then on, the disease spread. We saw Dalits flogged in Una, Gujarat. Muslims lynched in Jharkhand, Rajasthan, and Uttar Pradesh. Now, the violence has turned inward—touching even those who might not have imagined they could become victims of the same poisonous ideology. Hatred once unleashed spares no one.
Despite the Supreme Court’s strong words against mob lynching, little has changed on the ground. The court had issued guidelines, urging states to take preventive measures and act firmly against hate crimes, but the implementation has been lackluster. The police often act only when outrage builds on social media. Meanwhile, the political class largely remains silent. Opposition parties, who should be raising their voices in Parliament and on the streets, appear hesitant—as if standing up for justice could cost them electorally.
The silence of political parties in Uttar Pradesh is deafening. Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath has not spoken a word about this heinous act. His government must not only ensure swift punishment for the perpetrators but also provide adequate compensation to Hariom’s family. Yet, we have not heard any statement from the Samajwadi Party, the BSP, or the Congress either. Their inaction reflects a troubling political calculation: selective outrage shaped by vote banks, not principles.
The so-called “mainstream” media—what many of us now call “Manustream” media—has also failed to live up to its duty. Instead of holding power accountable, it either buries such stories or frames them in ways that normalize violence against marginalized groups. The same voices that scream about “law and order” when convenient, look away when victims belong to oppressed castes or minorities.
Mob lynching has become more than a law-and-order issue—it is a social epidemic. When people believe they can kill in the name of suspicion, faith, or prejudice and still receive political protection, democracy itself is endangered. The state’s complicity, whether through silence or inaction, emboldens the perpetrators. Those who once justified violence against one community may soon find the same violence turning against them.
The need of the hour is clear and urgent. The Supreme Court must take suo motu cognizance of Hariom’s lynching and direct the Uttar Pradesh government to conduct a time-bound investigation. The court must demand accountability, not symbolic action. But legal remedies alone will not suffice. Civil society, the media, and political parties must collectively confront the ideology that legitimizes violence and dehumanization.
Hariom’s death is not an isolated tragedy—it is a mirror held up to our collective failure. Unless we act decisively to end the normalization of mob violence, we will keep producing more victims, more grief, and more shame. Justice for Hariom Valmiki is not just about punishing his killers—it is about reclaiming our humanity.
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*Human rights defender
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