top of page

The Deadly Price of Truth: How Questioning Power Threatens Lives and Democracy

Writer's picture: AuthorAuthor

In a world where authority often operates unchecked, those who dare to challenge power pay a staggering price. The murder of journalist Mukesh Chandrakar in Chhattisgarh’s Bastar region serves as a grim reminder of the risks faced by those who expose corruption and wrongdoing. Chandrakar’s investigation into corruption in a road construction project—a matter of public interest—ultimately cost him his life. Allegedly orchestrated by the contractor he sought to hold accountable, his body was reportedly buried in a septic tank, a brutal attempt to silence the truth.



This tragedy is far from unique. From Ram Chander Chhatrapati, who exposed the crimes of self-proclaimed godman Ram Rahim, to Madhya Pradesh journalist Sandeep Sharma, who was crushed to death for uncovering the sand mafia’s activities, and Uttar Pradesh’s Shubham Mani Tripathi, who foretold his own murder by the same mafia he exposed—the pattern is clear. Across India, whistleblowers, journalists, and activists are targeted with violence and murder for their courage in confronting those in power.


Local journalists are particularly vulnerable. Reporters like Subhash Kumar Mahato in Bihar and Shashikant Warishe in Maharashtra rarely receive the protection or recognition afforded to those in larger media houses. Their sacrifices often vanish into obscurity, their killers emboldened by a justice system plagued with delays. Cases stretch on for years, and the powerful perpetrators continue to operate with impunity.


This culture of intimidation and violence extends beyond journalism. Local people fighting for basic infrastructure also face relentless hostility. In Uttarakhand, for example,

organizations like the Titli Trust have been accused of exploiting the region’s rich biodiversity under the guise of conservation. Villagers claim these groups erect private structures on forest land, impose artificial hierarchies, and even take credit for natural phenomena like the presence of deodar trees and butterflies—elements that have coexisted with local communities for generations. This alleged encroachment disrupts traditional rights, creates friction among residents, and undermines the very principles of community-led development.



The accusations against these organizations go beyond rhetoric. Villagers report being subjected to intimidation tactics and even bureaucratic roadblocks when they try to assert their rights. Much like the Bangsheel villagers accused of forest smuggling, Devalsari’s residents have faced baseless allegations that paint them as exploiters of the land they’ve nurtured for centuries.


But questioning power is not a crime—it is the lifeblood of democracy. When individuals challenge corruption, environmental exploitation, or systemic abuse, they aren’t just defending their rights; they are safeguarding the rights of us all. Yet the price they pay is heartbreakingly steep. Careers, reputations, safety, and even lives are sacrificed, while the powerful hide behind a shield of impunity.


As a society, we must confront some hard questions:

• Why are local journalists, activists, and whistleblowers left unprotected?

• Why do cases against powerful offenders drag on for decades, with little accountability?

• Why do we, as citizens, fail to rally behind those who risk everything for the collective good?


Accountability is the cornerstone of any just society. Without it, democracy crumbles. We must honor the sacrifices of those who have fallen by demanding justice, providing support for vulnerable voices, and holding the powerful to account.


The time to act is now. To remain silent is to accept a culture of impunity and fear—a culture that ultimately endangers us all. Justice for the fallen, protection for the courageous, and accountability for the guilty must become our collective demand. Our democracy depends on it.

16 views0 comments
  • Twitter
  • Instagram

©2022 by Kumaon Jagran. 

bottom of page