How critical is police neutrality, and how independent must the force be from administrative control to function constitutionally and deliver public service?
From Ancient Polis to Modern Force: Guarding Democracy against Partisan Control
In the hills and valleys of Nagaland, where customary law meets the Constitution of India and the memory of a long political struggle still shapes daily life, the police stand at a delicate intersection. Citizens expect them to be impartial guardians of order, protectors of life and property, and servants of the rule of law—not instruments of the day's government. Yet the structural inheritance of colonial legislation, the special status under Article 371A, the continued presence of the Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act (AFSPA) across much of the state, and the everyday realities of political influence continue to strain that expectation.
The question is no longer academic: how critical is police neutrality, and how independent must the force be from administrative control to function constitutionally, deliver public service, and prevent the general administration from sliding into authoritarianism or partisanship? Grounded in democratic theory and Nagaland's lived experience, the answer is that neutrality is not a luxury. It is the condition of legitimacy. Without it, policing ceases to be a public service and becomes an extension of political power. The public’s expectations are clear and consistent: security without fear, investigation without bias, and enforcement that respects both statute and Naga customary practice where they coexist.
Etymology: From Polis to Police
The word “police” carries a deeper civic meaning than its modern association with a uniformed force. It derives from the ancient Greek polis—the city or city-state—through politeia, which denoted citizenship, the community's constitution, and the social and political order that sustained the polis's well-being. From Greek politeia, the term passed into Latin as politia (civil administration or the state), then into Middle French as police, originally signifying organized government, public order, and the regulation of community life. In English, the word first appeared in the early fifteenth century with senses close to “policy” or “civil administration.” Only around 1800–1810 did it come to mean specifically an organized civil force charged with maintaining order and enforcing the law. This linguistic history is not mere curiosity. It reminds us that the original idea of “police” was the good ordering of the community for the common welfare—not the domination of subjects by an executive arm. In a democratic age, especially in Nagaland, where the police must navigate both constitutional law and customary practice, recovering that older sense of civic order is essential to legitimacy.
Evolution of Policing: From Ancient Times to the Modern Force
Efforts to enforce community standards long predate specialised police. In ancient Egypt, around 3000 BCE, officials oversaw justice and security within administrative jurisdictions. In Rome, Emperor Augustus established urban cohorts to maintain order. Elsewhere, kin policing, night watches, and local magistrates fulfilled similar roles. In medieval England, the frankpledge system imposed collective responsibility on adult males; later, constables and the night watch took over. These arrangements were largely reactive and community-based.
The modern professional police force emerged in the early nineteenth century. In London, the Metropolitan Police Act of 1829, associated with Sir Robert Peel, established a civilian, preventive, uniformed force intended to operate by public consent rather than by military repression. Officers became known as “bobbies.” This model influenced forces across the British Empire and beyond. In the United States, early systems included night watches and, in the southern states, slave patrols that enforced slave codes; the first full-time municipal police forces appeared in Boston (1838) and New York (1845). In India, the Police Act of 1861, enacted after the 1857 uprising, created a hierarchical force oriented toward executive control and the suppression of dissent. That colonial framework remains the foundation of most state police forces, including Nagaland's, even after independence.
In Nagaland, the force, headed by the Director General of Police and organised into District Executive Forces and Nagaland Armed Police battalions, operates under the special constitutional umbrella of Article 371A. This article protects Naga religious and social practices, customary law and procedure, and the administration of justice under Naga customary law unless the Legislative Assembly resolves otherwise. The dual normative order means that regular police enforce statutory law, while village authorities and customary institutions continue to resolve many local disputes. The Rules for the Administration of Justice and Police in Nagaland still recognise both regular and rural police and leave residual authority with the Deputy Commissioner, blurring the line between civil administration and operational policing.
Public Expectations in Nagaland
What do the people of Nagaland expect of their police? Conversations across the state converge on several core demands. First, impartiality across tribes and political affiliations. Strong tribal solidarity is a social asset, yet it can pressure the police to grant preferential treatment in recruitment, posting, or case disposal. Second, an effective response to everyday threats—extortion, narcotics trafficking, cyber fraud, crimes against women and children, and inter-tribal tensions—without selective enforcement. Third, restraint and accountability, especially where the Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act remains in force. Public memory of incidents such as the 2021 Oting killings shapes the expectation that the state police should act as the civilian force that prevents excess and investigates it when it occurs. Fourth, community-oriented service. The motto “Security, Service, Sacrifice” is widely known; citizens want officers present at festivals and as first responders, yet free of colonial command. Finally, transparency, as reflected in recent efforts to track complaints digitally.
Why Independence from Administrative Control Matters
Independence does not mean the police should operate outside democratic accountability. It means operational autonomy within the law, free from day-to-day political or administrative interference in investigations, transfers, promotions, and decisions to register or close cases. When an officer must weigh the political cost of every First Information Report, the rule of law is already compromised. In Nagaland, where the Governor retains special responsibility for law and order under Article 371A as long as internal disturbances persist, and where the Home Department exercises superintendence, the risk of partisan direction is real. Local political leaders, ethnic organizations, and residual influences can further undermine neutrality.
The Supreme Court’s directions in Prakash Singh v. Union of India (2006) sought to address this: fixed tenure for the Director General and key officers, a Police Establishment Board to handle transfers, and a State Security Commission with civil-society representation. Implementing these measures, adapted to Nagaland’s special constitutional position, would strengthen the state’s capacity to uphold both constitutional rights and customary protections. An independent investigation wing and external oversight would provide citizens with a remedy when neutrality fails. The continued application of AFSPA in many districts and police-station areas puts state police in an awkward position: the public expects them to investigate excesses, yet central sanction requirements constrain their ability to do so. A force independent of local political pressure is better placed to insist on proper coordination and to maintain the civilian character of law enforcement.
Protecting the General Administration from Authoritarian Drift
Police neutrality also safeguards the broader administration. When the force is available for selective deployment against political opponents or particular groups, the temptation for any government to use it grows. Over time, the civil administration begins to treat the police as a convenient instrument rather than a constitutional function. In a state with a history of ceasefire arrangements, peace talks, and delicate inter-tribal balances, the consequences can be severe. Partisan policing erodes the legitimacy of village councils and customary institutions that Article 371A seeks to protect; it also undermines the credibility of the elected government when genuine public cooperation is later needed.
Conversely, a professional, insulated police force supports constitutional governance. It can enforce the law impartially, protect the rights of all communities within the Naga fold, investigate corruption without fear, and provide the factual basis for political decisions rather than manufacturing outcomes. Recent modernization efforts—new vehicles and mobile forensic vans—point in the right direction, yet technology cannot replace institutional independence.
The Way Forward
Nagaland’s public expects a police force that is sensitive to local realities yet impartial in applying the law. Meeting that expectation requires concrete steps: full implementation of the Prakash Singh directives, adapted to the state’s special status; a clearer statutory separation between the Deputy Commissioner’s role and the operational command of the District Executive Force; strengthened community policing free of political patronage; transparent recruitment and promotion; and the gradual, benchmarked withdrawal of AFSPA from areas where civil capacity has improved.
None of these measures is incompatible with Article 371A or with legitimate security concerns. On the contrary, they are practical means for Nagaland to exercise its special status within the constitutional framework, rather than in spite of it. An independent police force, accountable to the law and the public and oriented toward service, is not a threat to any government committed to democracy. It is the best protection against the slow erosion of the rule of law. Returning to the word’s roots, true policing is the community's ordered life—the politeia—secured by consent rather than command. In Nagaland, as elsewhere, the test of that commitment is whether the police can say no—politely, professionally, and without fear—when asked to do what the Constitution does not permit.
Besesayo Kezo, IPS, Retd. DGP