The tragic death of IIT Bombay student Sahil Wakode is yet another reminder of how quickly a campus tragedy can become a battleground of competing narratives. Wakode was reportedly caught using a mobile phone during a mid-semester examination on September 18. Hours later, he was found dead.
His family subsequently alleged caste-based discrimination and mental harassment, following which an FIR was registered against Professor Suryanarayana Doolla under provisions relating to abetment of suicide and the Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes (Prevention of Atrocities) Act. The investigation has now been handed over to the Crime Branch.
That sequence demands something increasingly rare in public discourse: facts before verdicts.
There is absolutely no argument against protecting members of Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes from genuine discrimination, humiliation and atrocities. Such protection is both constitutionally justified and socially necessary. But a law created to protect vulnerable citizens cannot become, in practice, a weapon that makes an accused person guilty in the court of public opinion before an investigation is completed.
An FIR is an allegation, not a conviction. Equally, the fact that a student tragically takes his own life cannot automatically establish that the teacher, invigilator or institution caused it. If there is evidence of deliberate humiliation, caste-based abuse or abetment, the law must act firmly. But if the evidence does not establish those ingredients, the accused must not be sacrificed merely because an allegation has acquired political or social momentum.
This is precisely where the present debate over the SC/ST Act deserves greater seriousness.
The Supreme Court has repeatedly recognised that the stringent provisions of the Act cannot eliminate judicial scrutiny altogether. In 2025, the Court reiterated that although Section 18 ordinarily bars anticipatory bail, that bar does not apply where the complaint does not make out a prima facie offence under the Act. The Court has also insisted that particular statutory ingredients must actually be satisfied. For instance, allegations of caste-based insult under relevant provisions require the prescribed circumstances, including the requirement that the alleged abuse occur “within public view”; courts have declined to mechanically apply the Act when those ingredients are absent.
That judicial caution deserves to be reflected in policing and administration as well.
The uncomfortable question is simple: Can academic discipline become caste discrimination merely because the student belongs to an SC or ST community? Obviously not. A student caught violating examination rules remains a student first. The same standard must apply whether the student is SC, ST, OBC, Brahmin or belongs to any other community.
There is another danger. Once caste is introduced into every institutional dispute, genuine atrocities risk being diluted by exaggerated or frivolous allegations. Worse, administrators may begin acting defensively—not according to facts, rules and evidence, but out of fear of invoking a powerful statutory provision.
The answer, however, is not to weaken protection against genuine atrocities. It is to ensure zero tolerance for misuse alongside zero tolerance for discrimination.
The Rohith Vemula controversy remains a cautionary example of how questions surrounding caste identity can become deeply politicised. Contemporary official and investigative records themselves contained conflicting material concerning his caste status, demonstrating why such questions require verification rather than political assertion.
The same principle must apply today.
If the IIT Bombay professor committed an offence, let the evidence establish it and let the law punish him. If he merely discharged his examination duty and the caste allegations cannot be substantiated, he must not be condemned for doing his job.
Bharat cannot afford a legal system in which an allegation becomes punishment, a tragedy becomes a political weapon and caste becomes the first lens through which every dispute is viewed.
The SC/ST Act was enacted to protect citizens from atrocities—not to terrorise innocent citizens, teachers, administrators or members of other communities. If provisions are found to be vulnerable to misuse, Parliament and the courts must have the courage to examine safeguards, accountability and due process without fear or favour.
Protection of the vulnerable and protection of the innocent are not competing constitutional values. Bharat needs both.
