An estate protects property; a State protects people. The moment the defence of land becomes more important than the dignity of citizens, the State begins to resemble an estate. The demolition of shelters housing nomadic families in Sidhra, Jammu, raises an urgent constitutional question: can the protection of land be pursued at the cost of human dignity?
Dr Ashwani Kumar
“An estate protects property; a State protects people. The moment the defence of land becomes more important than the dignity of citizens, the State begins to resemble an estate.”
This distinction lies at the heart of constitutional democracy. A private estate exists to preserve ownership and control over property. A democratic State, however, derives its legitimacy not merely from its authority over territory but from its responsibility towards the people who inhabit it. While governments are duty-bound to protect public land and prevent unlawful encroachments, they are equally obligated to safeguard the dignity, welfare, and fundamental rights of citizens. When the enforcement of land laws leaves families homeless and vulnerable, an important constitutional question emerges: can the protection of land be pursued at the cost of human dignity?
Recent reports on the demolition of shelters housing nomadic families in the Sidhra area of Jammu have brought this question into sharp focus. The issue is not whether public land should be protected. The rule of law requires that encroachments, irrespective of the identity of the occupier, be addressed. Influential individuals, commercial interests, and politically connected actors cannot claim immunity merely because their occupations have existed for years. Public land belongs to the public, and governments have every right to reclaim it.
However, legality alone does not exhaust the obligations of a democratic government. The manner in which the law is enforced is as important as the law itself. When families, including women, children, and the elderly, are rendered shelterless, the issue moves beyond administrative action and enters the realm of constitutional morality.
The Indian Constitution does not explicitly mention housing as a fundamental right. Nevertheless, through a series of landmark judgments, the Supreme Court has interpreted Article 21- the right to life and personal liberty, to include the right to live with dignity. Such dignity cannot be reduced to mere biological existence. It encompasses access to the basic conditions that make life meaningful, including shelter. A citizen sleeping under the open sky after a State action may still be alive in the narrow legal sense, but the constitutional promise of dignity becomes difficult to sustain.
Sociologically, a home is far more than a physical structure. It provides security, identity, social belonging, and emotional stability. For nomadic and economically vulnerable communities, a shelter often serves as the centre of family life, economic survival, and cultural continuity. The destruction of a dwelling, therefore, affects not only property but also social relationships, livelihoods, educational opportunities, and psychological well-being.
The issue acquires greater significance when the affected populations belong to historically marginalised communities. Groups such as the Gujjars and Bakarwals have a long history of challenges relating to land rights, access to public services, and social inclusion. Any action that displaces them without adequate safeguards risks justifying existing inequalities. In such circumstances, governance must be informed not only by legal entitlement but also by social justice.
The State undoubtedly possesses the authority to remove illegal structures. However, constitutional governance demands proportionality. The doctrine of proportionality requires that legitimate objectives be pursued through measures that minimise harm to affected individuals. Eviction may sometimes be unavoidable, but homelessness should not be. Adequate notice, fair hearings, rehabilitation measures, temporary accommodation, and special protections for vulnerable groups are not acts of charity; they are expressions of constitutional responsibility.
The framers of the Constitution envisioned India as a welfare state, not merely a regulatory authority. This vision is reflected in the Directive Principles of State Policy, which call upon governments to reduce inequalities and promote conditions necessary for human welfare. While these principles are not enforceable in courts, they remain fundamental to the governance of the country. A government faithful to this constitutional vision cannot treat shelter as a dispensable concern.
The broader implications extend beyond the affected families. Public trust in institutions depends upon the perception that laws are enforced fairly and humanely. Citizens generally support action against powerful encroachers who misuse influence to occupy public resources. However, when the most visible consequences of enforcement are borne by those with the least social and economic power, questions about equity and justice inevitably arise. The credibility of governance rests not merely on its capacity to exercise authority but on its ability to exercise authority fairly.
A democracy is distinguished from an estate precisely because it recognises that citizens are not obstacles to administration; they are the very purpose of administration. Land records, boundaries, and regulations are important, but they are instruments of governance, not its ultimate objective. The ultimate objective remains the welfare and dignity of human beings.
The measure of a democratic State is therefore not how efficiently it removes structures but how responsibly it treats those affected by its decisions. Protecting public land is a legitimate duty. Protecting the dignity of citizens is a constitutional obligation. A government committed to democratic values must ensure that neither responsibility is fulfilled at the expense of the other.
For when citizens are left without shelter in the name of protecting State land, the question is no longer about encroachment. It is about the very nature of the State itself. A State worthy of its constitutional promise must protect both its land and its people. Otherwise, it risks becoming what it was never meant to be, an estate concerned more with property than with humanity.
The writer teaches sociology at UILS Chandigarh University, Punjab[
as*************@***il.com