When the state calls itself a protector of rights, it must mean more than words on paper. A recent courtroom controversy centered on how judges evaluate medical evidence of torture exposes a dangerous gap between that promise and practice.
At stake is not an abstract legal doctrine but the dignity and safety of people who say they were brutalized by those sworn to protect them and act in accordance with the laws of the Republic.
Court ordered medical examination of six accused persons facing arson trial shows all men were severely tortured leading to grave medical conditions including disfigurement of body parts, loss of sight, tooth and putting them in an unstable state needing urgent mental treatment including psychiatric treatment.
The United Nations Istanbul Protocol exists for a reason: it provides internationally accepted standards for documenting torture and ill-treatment. Medical and psychological findings described as “highly consistent” with torture should trigger serious, measured responses from the courts, not cavalier dismissal.
The absence of a single type of injury—no matter how conspicuous that injury might seem to lay observers—cannot, on its own, erase the weight of a systematic medical assessment.
Torture takes many forms; it leaves physical, psychological, and forensic traces that do not always include the most sensationalized signs people expect.
The judge in this case placed heavy emphasis on the fact that a particular physical sign (sodomy) was not detected, and used that absence to undermine an examination conducted at the court’s request.
That the court truly commissioned the medical assessment, then the minimum rule-of-law obligation is to read and engage with it in full, or to commission an independent second opinion if there are genuine concerns about scope or methodology. To reduce a complex, multidisciplinary report to a single missing finding is to misunderstand both medicine and justice.
Beyond the courtroom semantics, this matter is a profound indictment of the institutions responsible for investigating and preventing abuse. When a medical report implicates security forces or law enforcement in systematic mistreatment, it should prompt transparent, independent investigations not reflexive defensiveness.
The state’s reputation on human rights, and more importantly the trust of its citizens, depends on credible mechanisms for accountability and redress.
The constitutional protections against torture and coerced evidence are not decorative. They demand that courts exclude evidence obtained by torture, ensure fair procedures, and protect victims from further harm.
This means more than rhetorical support; it requires training for judges and prosecutors on forensic documentation standards, clear rules for evaluating expert reports, and ready access to impartial medical and psychological expertise when credibility or methodology is in question.
If the medical examiner did not document certain allegations because those allegations were not made by the complainants, that procedural gap ought to be explained in court—not treated as a trump card to dismiss the overall findings. And if the court believes the examination was incomplete or flawed, the remedy is not to dismiss the report out of hand but to order a proper, independent follow-up. Victims of abuse deserve nothing less.
Ultimately, justice demands both rigor and humanity. Courts must resist the temptation to pick the single piece of missing evidence that fits a preferred narrative and instead grapple with the full body of findings. When a report is “highly consistent” with torture under an internationally recognized protocol, the least the rule of law requires is careful, transparent scrutiny—and, where indicated, prompt accountability for perpetrators and protection for victims. Anything less is a stain on the legal system the courts are meant to uphold.
