When the protector becomes the victim: The Gumin Mize case and India’s crisis of trust

By Himadri Priya 

The allegations surrounding Gumin Mize have resonated far beyond the borders of Arunachal Pradesh. For many, the controversy is not simply about one activist or one detention. It reflects a deeper and more uncomfortable reality: the growing disconnect between the ideals of justice India professes and the experiences many citizens associate with law enforcement.

Mize is known across Arunachal Pradesh for his anti-drug advocacy and grassroots efforts to steer young people away from addiction. Whether one agrees with every aspect of his activism is beside the point. The fact remains that he devoted years to a cause that governments themselves publicly claim to support — the fight against narcotics and the protection of vulnerable youth. That such a figure could become the center of allegations involving custodial mistreatment has understandably generated outrage.

Naturally, questions have been directed toward the police in Assam, under whose custody the alleged incidents reportedly occurred. It is neither fair nor responsible to prejudge the outcome of any investigation. Yet it is equally unreasonable to expect the public to remain silent when serious allegations emerge. In situations such as these, transparency is not a favor extended by authorities; it is an obligation owed to the public. The credibility of any law-enforcement agency depends not on its ability to reject criticism, but on its willingness to subject itself to scrutiny.

But the larger issue extends well beyond Assam.

The Gumin Mize case has become a symbol of a problem that has haunted India for decades: the persistent perception that sections of the police force operate with a level of impunity that would be unacceptable in a truly accountable democracy. From allegations of custodial violence to claims of forced confessions and abuse of authority, the stories may differ from state to state, but the underlying concern remains remarkably consistent.

For many Indians, the police are viewed with a mixture of necessity and apprehension. Citizens rely on law enforcement for protection, yet many also fear becoming entangled in a system that often appears more concerned with demonstrating power than earning trust. This contradiction is one of the most troubling features of contemporary India. In a healthy democracy, people should feel reassured when they encounter the police. Too often, however, public discourse reveals the opposite sentiment.

The roots of this problem are not new. Critics have long argued that elements of India’s policing culture continue to reflect a colonial-era mentality — one in which authority is exercised from above while accountability remains limited. Although India achieved political independence nearly eight decades ago, many citizens believe that certain institutional attitudes toward power have changed far more slowly. The result is a recurring cycle in which allegations of misconduct emerge, public outrage follows, investigations are promised, and public trust continues to erode.

This erosion of trust may be the most damaging consequence of all.

When citizens lose confidence in the institutions responsible for enforcing the law, the consequences extend far beyond individual cases. Communities become skeptical of official narratives. Victims hesitate to come forward. Witnesses become reluctant to cooperate. Every unresolved allegation widens the gap between the public and the institutions meant to serve them.

The tragedy of the Gumin Mize controversy lies not only in the allegations themselves, but also in what they symbolize. Here is a man widely known for campaigning against a social menace that has devastated countless families. If someone associated with such a cause can become the subject of allegations involving custodial abuse, many citizens naturally ask what protections remain for ordinary individuals with fewer supporters and far less public visibility.

This is why the case has struck such a powerful emotional chord. It touches on a fear shared across regions, languages, and political affiliations: the fear that power may at times be insulated from accountability. Whether that perception is fully justified in every instance is almost beside the point. What matters is that millions of citizens increasingly feel it to be true.

India’s strength as a democracy has never rested solely on elections or constitutional promises. It rests equally on the public’s belief that institutions can be trusted to act fairly, even when no one is watching. Every allegation of custodial abuse, every claim of coercion, and every unanswered question weakens that belief.

The ultimate facts of the Gumin Mize case must be established through a fair, transparent, and independent investigation. But regardless of where that investigation leads, the public reaction has already delivered a clear message. People are not merely demanding justice for one individual; they are expressing frustration with a system that too often appears resistant to accountability and too comfortable with authority.

In that sense, this controversy is not just about Arunachal Pradesh, Assam, or even one activist. It reflects a larger challenge facing India itself: whether its institutions can move beyond a legacy of unchecked power and rebuild the trust essential to any functioning democracy. Until that question is convincingly answered, cases like that of Gumin Mize will continue to resonate far beyond the individuals involved, serving as reminders of how much work remains to be done.