Duty without fear

IN a daring daylight murder, a promising young officer, posted as Zonal Licensing Authority, is shot inside her Kharar headquarters office. Her crime: cancellation of a drug licence and diligence while discharging duty. In a state where drug mafia has roots deeper than thought, she dared to stick her neck out and paid a price. Two bullets ended the dream of making a difference. The Congress government in Punjab swept to power mainly on its poll plank of the eradication of drugs, both root and branch, from the state. Years later, things don’t seem to be on the mend. More and more gaps are showing up. 

It would be incorrect to dismiss it as a ‘localised’ crime and turn away from the larger drug racket issue. Across the state, there is an eerie disquiet among drug officers, who are seeking police security and a fence around office premises. An SIT has been formed to dig deeper into the possibility of the involvement of a drug cartel. The fears are reasonable. Their nature of work mandates them to carry out raids against spurious drugs and the sale of habit-forming intoxicants. Most departments have an increased strength of women officials. Drug inspectors are also sometimes required to depose in courts. Threats are not new, the horror of the crime is. Any sense of ‘dread’ should be for rogue elements to experience, not dedicated law enforcers. That the killer got an arms licence a day after the model code of conduct came into force is a glaring discrepancy. 

It is for the government to initiate steps to provide a safe working environment in such ‘sensitive’ departments. Honesty is rare. Those striving to clean the system can take on the mafia only when they have all-out state backing. In the absence of it, the state would be encouraging incompetence, corruption and observance of status quo. Visible action is required, lest the government should be tarred as helpless against organised crime, be it drugs, liquor or sand. Mafia in the state is active. And the government?