Poonam Sharma
Karnataka’s top police leadership is once again in the eye of a storm, and this time the questions are sharper, the anger deeper, and the government’s silence louder. A video allegedly showing senior IPS officer and Director General of Police K. Ramachandra Rao behaving inappropriately with women inside his office has resurfaced, triggering widespread outrage. Rao has claimed the video is eight years old, recorded during his posting in Belagavi, and is part of a conspiracy to malign him. But for the public, the core issue is not the age of the video—it is the conduct it reflects and the protection that appears to follow.
This is not an isolated controversy. Rao had earlier been accused of helping his stepdaughter, Ranya Rao, in a gold smuggling case. That matter itself raised uncomfortable questions about misuse of influence and the blurred lines between personal relationships and public office. Now, with another controversy erupting, the focus has shifted decisively to the Siddaramaiah government: why does it continue to shield such officers, and what message does that send to the people of Karnataka?
A Senior Officer, Repeated Allegations, and No Consequences
The uniform of the police is not just cloth and badges—it represents authority, discipline, and public trust. When a Director General of Police is accused of inappropriate behaviour inside his own office, that trust takes a serious hit. Rao’s defence that the video is old may be legally relevant, but morally and institutionally, it is hardly reassuring.
If the behaviour shown in the video is genuine, then the fact that it happened years ago only raises another troubling question: how many such incidents were quietly ignored? How many complaints never reached the surface because of rank, power, or fear? Senior officers set the tone for the entire force. If those at the top are seen as untouchable, accountability collapses from within.
The gold smuggling case involving Rao’s stepdaughter had already dented the credibility of the system. Even if Rao himself is not legally proven guilty, the optics were damaging. In any mature administrative setup, repeated controversies around one individual would trigger caution. Transfers, temporary removal from sensitive posts, or at least a transparent inquiry would follow. In Karnataka, none of that seems to have happened.
Siddaramaiah Government’s Silence Speaks Volumes
The Siddaramaiah government now finds itself facing a serious credibility crisis. Critics are no longer asking whether allegations are true—they are asking why the government appears unwilling to act even when allegations pile up. Why is an officer with such a controversial track record allowed to continue heading important departments? Why does the government appear more eager to dismiss criticism as “conspiracy” than to order an independent probe?
The argument of “due process” cannot be used as a shield for inaction. Due process does not mean doing nothing. It does not prevent a government from ensuring that institutions are protected from reputational damage. Across India, governments routinely place officers on leave or transfer them when serious allegations surface—not as punishment, but as a precaution. The Siddaramaiah government’s refusal to take even these minimal steps fuels suspicion that political patronage is at play.
More worrying is the signal this sends to the public and to honest officers within the police force. If senior officials with political proximity can survive scandal after scandal, what incentive remains for integrity? What hope does a junior officer or an ordinary citizen have that justice will be impartial?
The Cost of Protecting the Powerful
The Directorate of Civil Rights Enforcement, headed by Rao, deals with some of the most sensitive issues in the state—rights violations, social justice, and protection of the vulnerable. Allegations of misconduct by its chief are not just embarrassing; they are deeply ironic. How can citizens trust an institution meant to protect dignity when its own leadership is accused of violating it?
The Siddaramaiah government must understand that governance is not just about surviving controversies; it is about responding to them with moral clarity. Shielding controversial officers may offer short-term political comfort, but it causes long-term damage to institutions, public trust, and democratic credibility.
Karnataka’s people are not demanding instant convictions. They are demanding honesty, transparency, and the courage to act. An independent, time-bound inquiry into both the video and the gold smuggling allegations is the bare minimum. Anything less will only reinforce the belief that in this government, power protects power.
At a time when citizens are increasingly cynical about politics and policing, the Siddaramaiah government still has a choice: stand with accountability or stand exposed as complicit. Silence, in this case, is not neutrality—it is a statement.
