Lynching, Selective Outrage and the Moral Cost of Majoritarian Violence
October 2015. Credit: AFP.
The lynching of Dipu Chandra Das on December 18 in Bangladesh’s Mymensingh district was a brutal reminder of how quickly majoritarian anger can turn into vigilante violence. Accused of blasphemy against Prophet Muhammad, Das was dragged, publicly tortured, and killed by a mob — an act that shocked consciences across borders.
In India, the killing provoked widespread outrage. Politicians, media outlets, celebrities, and ordinary citizens condemned what the Indian government described as a “barbaric killing.” Such reactions were justified. Violence of this nature must be met with unequivocal condemnation.
But the aftermath also exposed an uncomfortable truth: outrage is often selective.
When Lynching at Home Fails to Shock
Within days of Das’s murder, at least four lynchings occurred in India — yet they barely stirred national attention.
Mohammad Athar Hussain, a cloth vendor in Bihar; Ramnarayan Baghel, a Dalit migrant worker in Kerala; Jewel Sheikh, a worker from West Bengal killed in Odisha; and Anjel Chakma, a student from Tripura lynched in Uttarakhand — all died at the hands of mobs.
Their deaths did not dominate television debates. There were no urgent ministerial condemnations. No sustained national reckoning followed. Only Chakma’s killing briefly broke through the silence.
This contrast raises a troubling question: why does violence provoke outrage only when it fits a convenient narrative?
Lynching Is Not an Aberration
India has witnessed mob violence before. Since 2014, lynchings — particularly targeting Muslims — have surged, drawing international concern. Cases involving Mohammad Akhlaq, Pehlu Khan, Alimuddin Ansari, Junaid Khan, Rakbar Khan, and others forced the Supreme Court to urge Parliament to consider a dedicated anti-lynching law.
While no central law exists, Section 103(2) of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanahita does criminalise mob violence. Yet legal provisions alone cannot prevent crimes that have been socially normalised.
Since 2024, lynchings have continued with alarming regularity — but with diminishing public outrage. In June 2024 alone, several Muslims were killed by mobs. In August 2025, 20-year-old Suleman Khan Pathan was lynched by a mob that reportedly included his own friends.
The Anatomy of Majoritarian Violence
Mob lynching is rarely random. It is a tool of social control — used to enforce religious or ethnic hierarchy, punish alleged transgressions, and intimidate communities seen as outsiders.
In Bangladesh, Dipu Chandra Das was a Hindu factory worker — possibly envied by those who killed him. In India, many lynchings are carried out in the name of cow protection. Yet others defy religious binaries.
Ramnarayan Baghel, a Hindu Dalit, was lynched in Kerala by fellow Hindus who believed he was a Bangladeshi thief. Jewel Sheikh was killed in Odisha because he was assumed to be an “illegal Bangladeshi.” Anjel Chakma was branded “Chinese” by his attackers in Uttarakhand.
In each case, identity — real or imagined — became a death sentence.
Extreme Brutality, Public Spectacle
Majoritarian violence is often marked by extraordinary cruelty.
Das was hanged and burned in public, filmed by bystanders. Baghel’s body bore over 80 injuries, with doctors stating he had been “beaten like an animal.” In Bihar, Athar Hussain was stripped, mutilated, and tortured to confirm his religious identity.
These are not spontaneous acts of rage. They are public performances of dominance, meant to terrorise entire communities.
The Politics of Silence and Selective Sympathy
American civil rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. warned that “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” Yet modern societies increasingly ration their empathy.
India has rightly spoken out for Hindu minorities abroad. But the same voices often fall silent when minorities — or even fellow Hindus — are killed by mobs at home. This selective outrage weakens moral credibility and emboldens perpetrators.
In Bangladesh, debates over removing secularism from the Constitution mirror India’s own struggles, where religious nationalism has become central to political identity. Vigilantism, conspiracy theories like “love jihad,” and attacks on Christians during Christmas reflect a deep-seated sense of majoritarian victimhood.
The numbers are telling: attacks on Christians rose from 147 in 2014 to 840 in 2024.
Fear as a Weapon
Mob violence does not end with its victims. It spreads fear. Families flee ancestral homes. Communities retreat into silence. Social trust fractures.
In Bangladesh, Hindus are leaving. In India, Muslims are abandoning villages they lived in for generations. The cost of majoritarian violence is not just lives lost, but societies broken.
Our Thoughts
Lynching is not a law-and-order failure alone; it is a moral collapse. When outrage is filtered through religion or nationality, it ceases to be justice and becomes politics. If mob violence is to be confronted meaningfully, indignation must be consistent, principled, and universal. Anything less allows barbarity to masquerade as identity — and history shows where that road leads.
