I. The Core Questions

On 20 July 2026, the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) attempted a “Chalo Sansad” march from Jantar Mantar towards Parliament on the opening day of the Monsoon Session. The protest centred on alleged irregularities in competitive examinations, particularly NEET, and demanded accountability from the Union Education Minister. Delhi Police enforced prohibitory orders under Section 163 of the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS), denied permission for any procession towards Parliament, and used lathi-charge and tear gas when groups tried to breach multi-layered barricades.

Viral videos showed men in civilian clothes carrying batons or lathis acting alongside uniformed Delhi Police and Rapid Action Force personnel — confronting, chasing, or striking protesters. These images raise two interlocking constitutional questions:

  1. Who were these plain-clothed men, and under what authority did they exercise coercive power?
  2. Did the overall police response — particularly the manner of force and the participation of unidentified or non-uniformed individuals — violate Articles 19 and 21 of the Constitution?

II. The Constitutional Right to Protest and Its Limits

Article 19(1)(a) protects freedom of speech and expression. Article 19(1)(b) protects the right “to assemble peaceably and without arms.” These rights are fundamental to democratic accountability. The Supreme Court has repeatedly affirmed that peaceful protest is a legitimate mode of political expression.

These freedoms are, however, subject to reasonable restrictions under Articles 19(2) and 19(3) in the interests of the sovereignty and integrity of India, the security of the State, public order, and related grounds. The Court has consistently held that the right to protest does not include a right to occupy public spaces indefinitely or to disrupt essential functions of the State in a manner that imposes a disproportionate burden on others (Amit Sahni v. Commissioner of Police, commonly known as the Shaheen Bagh case). High-security zones around Parliament during a sitting session fall squarely within the zone where public-order restrictions may legitimately be stricter.

Section 163 BNSS (the successor to Section 144 CrPC) empowers an executive authority to issue temporary prohibitory orders where there is an urgent risk of nuisance or danger to public tranquillity. Judicial decisions have imposed important safeguards: such orders must be based on specific, reasoned grounds; they cannot become rolling or permanent bans that extinguish the right to protest; and they must be properly publicised. A blanket or mechanical invocation without documented assessment of imminent risk is constitutionally vulnerable.

In the present case, the police had a plausible public-order basis for restricting a large procession into the immediate vicinity of Parliament on the first day of the session. The critical constitutional inquiry is not whether any restriction was permissible, but whether the restriction and the subsequent use of force remained within the bounds of reasonableness, proportionality, and procedural fairness.

III. Standards Governing the Use of Force

Even when dispersal of an unlawful assembly is authorised, the use of force is tightly constrained by Article 21 (right to life and personal liberty) and by judicial guidelines.

The Supreme Court in the Ramlila Maidan case emphasised that force must be preceded by clear warnings where feasible, must be the minimum necessary, and must be proportionate to the threat. Arbitrary or excessive force converts a lawful order into a constitutional violation.

Equally important is the requirement of identification. In D.K. Basu v. State of West Bengal (1997), the Court mandated that every police officer involved in arrest, interrogation, or coercive action must wear accurate, visible name and designation tags. The rationale is straightforward: state power must be exercised transparently so that citizens can identify the agents of the State and seek remedies for excess. The principle extends beyond formal arrest to any exercise of coercive public power. When force is applied by persons who cannot be identified as police officers, the constitutional guarantee of accountability under Articles 14 and 21 is undermined.

Police manuals and standard operating practice reinforce this. Uniform is the normal requirement for public-order duties. Plain-clothes deployment is ordinarily reserved for intelligence gathering or specialised investigation units, not for open baton charges in a crowd-control situation.

IV. The Plain-Clothed Men: Accountability as a Constitutional Imperative

The videos of men in ordinary clothes wielding lathis alongside uniformed forces are the most constitutionally troubling feature of the day’s events. Their identities have not been officially clarified. Social-media claims naming specific individuals remain unverified. Delhi Police did not issue a detailed public statement identifying them or explaining their authority. Subsequent internal guidelines directing that personnel at the Jantar Mantar and surrounding areas should not operate in civilian clothes amount to an implicit recognition that the practice created serious problems of optics and accountability.

From a constitutional standpoint, three difficulties arise:

First, the exercise of coercive state power by unidentified persons severs the link between the citizen and the State. A protester facing a baton cannot know whether the person striking him is a police officer acting under lawful authority, a private individual, or someone acting under colour of office without proper authorisation. This opacity impairs the ability to file complaints, seek judicial review, or hold specific officers accountable.

Second, the presence of plain-clothes individuals carrying weapons of force in a public-order situation increases the risk of excess and of private violence being shielded by proximity to official forces. Even if some of the men were members of specialised police units, their deployment without clear identification in an open dispersal operation sits uneasily with the D.K. Basu requirement of visible identity.

Third, the absence of name tags or badges on some uniformed personnel (as alleged in petitions before the Delhi High Court) compounds the problem. When both uniformed and non-uniformed actors operate without clear identifiers, the entire enforcement action becomes less transparent and therefore less consistent with the rule of law.

These concerns engage Article 21 not merely as a protection against physical injury, but as a guarantee of fair procedure and accountable state action. They also engage Article 14’s prohibition on arbitrary state action.

V. Did the Police Violate the Constitution? A Balanced Assessment

A careful constitutional evaluation yields a nuanced conclusion.

Legitimate elements: The decision to prevent an unauthorised march into the high-security parliamentary zone on the opening day of the session rests on a recognised public-order interest. Section 163 BNSS provided a statutory basis for prohibitory orders. When protesters attempted to breach barricades, the police had authority to disperse the assembly. Injuries to police personnel and allegations of stone-pelting indicate that the situation was not entirely peaceful on one side.

Problematic elements: The scale and manner of force, the reported absence of clear warnings in some locations, the participation of plain-clothed individuals in coercive action, and the lack of visible identification raise serious questions of proportionality and procedural fairness under Articles 19 and 21. Petitions alleging excessive force, including against women and non-violent participants, and the use of force by persons without name tags or uniforms, are currently before the Delhi High Court. The Court has issued notices, directed preservation of CCTV footage, body-camera recordings, and related records, and the matter remains sub-judice.

Until the factual record is clarified through the preserved electronic evidence and any independent inquiry, it is not possible to reach a definitive judicial finding of constitutional violation on every aspect of the police action. What can be said with confidence is that the deployment of plain-clothed men with lathis in an open crowd-control situation, without clear public identification of their authority, is inconsistent with the constitutional values of transparency, accountability, and fair procedure that the Supreme Court has repeatedly emphasised.

VI. Broader Implications

The 20 July events illustrate a recurring tension in Indian constitutional practice: the State’s legitimate need to protect the institutions of democracy (Parliament) versus the citizen’s equally legitimate right to dissent and demand accountability. When policing of protest relies on opacity — unidentified personnel, missing name tags, and force whose proportionality is contested — public trust erodes and the constitutional promise of accountable power is placed under strain.

The Delhi High Court’s directions to preserve evidence and seek official responses are the correct institutional response. A transparent determination of who the plain-clothed men were, under what authority they acted, and whether the force used remained within constitutional limits is essential not only for the parties involved but for the integrity of the right to protest itself.

In a constitutional democracy, the State may regulate the time, place, and manner of protest. It may not do so in a manner that renders the agents of force unidentifiable or the exercise of power unaccountable.