In India, bulldozers have become more than just a construction tool, they are a symbol of the country’s approach to extrajudicial punishment. For years, India’s politicians have engaged in “bulldozer justice”: they send demolition teams to the homes of those accused of certain crimes, destroying them in a public fashion without waiting for a trial or conviction before taking action.
Now, in the northwestern state of Punjab, bulldozer justice has become the latest weapon of choice in the government’s war on drugs, used to demolish those accused of using and trafficking substances. But while international and local human rights groups have condemned this strategy, many across the country support its use, reflecting the deep social stigma people who use drugs face in India.
Might makes right
The foundations of bulldozer justice trace back to the northern state of Uttar Pradesh (UP), where Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath began using them in 2021 to target alleged criminals and political opponents, demolishing their homes, illegally constructed buildings and more. Bulldozers became both a policy tool and a political symbol of Adityanath’s campaign, earning him the nickname of “Bulldozer Baba” in the 2022 elections. Many campaign and fan-made posters featured heavy machinery as shorthand for strong-arm governance.
The model quickly spread. In Delhi’s Jahangirpuri and Madhya Pradesh’s Khargone, bulldozers followed incidents of communal violence in April 2022, disproportionately targeting Muslim-owned homes and businesses.
In Madhya Pradesh, from May 2022 onward, men accused but not yet convicted of sexual offences saw their houses flattened. In Assam, bulldozers accompanied state eviction drives of primarily Muslim inhabitants in mid-2023.
In August 2024, the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) government in Punjab launched a “zero tolerance” anti-drug campaign, targeting alleged members of drug gangs. The operation expanded in October to Ferozepur and Amritsar, where bulldozers tore through properties linked to accused traffickers. None had been convicted; many had not yet appeared in court. Still, officials defended the demolitions under the pretext of removing “illegal encroachments.”
Such justifications are becoming common. Across India, governments assert that demolitions target unauthorised constructions, yet the timing and selective targeting suggest otherwise. Often, buildings are razed immediately following high-profile arrests or accusations, serving as public punishment without trial while asserting the power of the executive.
No process, no pity
In February 2024, Amnesty International published a searing indictment of India’s bulldozer policies, condemning its selective, punitive and extrajudicial use. The report documented the destruction of at least 128 properties between April and June 2022 alone, rendering over 600 people homeless or without a livelihood. Amnesty declared these actions “unlawful” and called for immediate cessation and compensation.
Within India, the Association for Protection of Civil Rights (APCR), a collective of advocates and former judges, accused the government of acting as a “mob” in cases of bulldozer justice. The Indian People’s Tribunal (IPT) denounced how the policy targets marginalised communities.
In a landmark ruling on November 13, 2024, the Supreme Court of India held that demolitions carried out without due process were “contrary to the rule of law”. Jamiat Ulama-i-Hind, a leading Muslim organisation, welcomed the verdict, stating that bulldozer justice is simply “a crime.”
But despite this, bulldozer justice still garners enthusiastic support from many. Support for the policy is based on a widespread belief among the public that something needs to be done about drug addiction.
“Bulldozer strategy is basically retributive justice,” according to Dr Kawal Kour, General Secretary of the Institute of Narcotics Studies and Analysis, “a public spectacle aimed as a deterrent.” From around 2021, she says, “the bulldozers were pressed into service as an all-out attack on traffickers and those indulging in crimes and illegal activities.”
“These lowlifes, they ruin my country,” said Gurpreet Sharma, a tea shop owner in Amritsar, told TalkingDrugs. “They bring bhang [cannabis] and worse into the nation. Whenever I see rubble, I smile.”
Khanna Sharey, a Punjabi software engineer, echoed the sentiment. “It’s outside the judicial system, but it needs to be so that it can be swift. I trust our leadership to know what they are doing,” he told TalkingDrugs.
Where some see justice, others see political theatre. “These tenements are due for destruction anyway,” said Harry Singh, a worker at a hostel in Amritsar. “Political leaders want to appear tough. It’s how you take elections.”
In Punjab, the approach has become entwined with the government’s narrative of a crackdown on drugs—a subject that stirs deep anxieties in a region that some say struggles with addiction and underdevelopment.
“The problem is in the villages. Whole families are being ruined by drugs. Parents are very worried,” Sharey said.
Constitutional violation
But does that mean India can break its own laws? According to a 2023 article for the Indian Journal of Law and Legal Research (IJLLR) by Joy Makhal, “demolition of property as a punitive measure violates not only the Indian Constitution but also international human rights obligations to which India is a party.”
India is a signatory to both the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. Under these international treaties, citizens are entitled to the presumption of innocence, the right to a fair trial, and protection from arbitrary interference in their property. Makhal convincingly argues that Bulldozer Justice violates all three.
But it’s not just international law that Bulldozer Justice transgresses, it’s Indian law itself. Makhal shows that “collective extra-judicial punishment” by bulldozer is a violation of articles 14, 21, and 300A of the Indian Constitution.
Regardless of this constitutional violation, in Punjab, the practice is now embedded in policy. CM Bhagwant Mann has invoked bulldozer crackdowns in speeches as proof of action against the drug trade. With many tenements still unregistered and thousands living in legally grey accommodation, the potential to worsen people’s conditions is vast.
Quite aside from the trauma of having your home reduced to rubble based on mere rumour, the victims of Bulldozer Justice have to live with its effects for the rest of their lives. Few officials comment where displaced residents are expected to go. The illusion of legal protection that the constitution should offer to victims of bulldozer justice, like Muslim communities or those who use drugs, is shattered as they are targeted despite no formal accusations or trial.
That’s not to say that there isn’t a problem with drugs in the border state. India’s largest seizure of heroin in 2024 took place in Punjab, according to Dr Kour, and the state continues to struggle to respond to treatment needs and narcotrafficking instability. But rather than reinforce treatment capacity and implement harm reduction strategies, Dr Kour pointed out that a violent “drug ‘strategy’ by every party aspiring for power in Punjab became commonplace” to deploy.
India’s bulldozers are unlikely to stop anytime soon. Whether you believe that politicians in Punjab and beyond are clearing their districts of unsanctioned housing and “poisonous” drug traffickers, or you see political theatre and a chance for strongmen to target minorities and win votes, the demo crews are working overtime. India’s central government has so far shown little interest in reigning in the use of this form of extrajudicial destruction. And why would they, when they garner public support?
As I was told by Sharma, “God will judge the addicts and the peddlers. I have no time for sympathy.”
