Dharmasthala case: Karnataka’s Gen Z Moment?

 The Special Investigation Team (SIT) probe into the Dharmasthala genocide, where most victims were women, has turned into a flashpoint of distrust in Karnataka. Far from reassuring the public, the government’s handling of the case has created a wave of suspicion that the investigation is designed not to uncover the truth but to shield an influential family. The sense of betrayal is spreading, and women’s anger is threatening to transform the issue into a statewide political reckoning.

Across districts, women’s groups are marching in rallies, accusing the government of “unabashedly” botching the probe. Their outrage sharpened when protest leaders from the Justice for Soujanya movement—Mahesh Shetty Timrodi and Chinnayya—were arrested. Instead of projecting fairness, these arrests have been read as an attempt to silence dissent and placate the ruling family of Dharmasthala. In the public mind, this is less about law and order and more about the government bending to protect influential family.

Agitators point out another disturbing fact: months after the SIT was constituted, it has not interrogated even one of the key accused in the case. Instead, it has been relentless in questioning whistleblowers and activists who demand justice for Soujanya. This selective zeal sends a chilling message to the wider movement—that those who fight for aggrieved girls and women will be harassed, while those suspected of grave crimes remain untouched. Such an approach deepens the belief that the probe is not just compromised but weaponized against truth-seekers.

The credibility crisis is dangerous. When the Chief Minister, Deputy CM and Home Minister all promised a thorough investigation, people expected transparency. Instead, what they see is a performance aimed at absolving the Dharmasthala family. That perception alone is enough to shake confidence in institutions. If citizens come to believe that probes exist to protect the powerful, then the government itself becomes complicit in injustice. That is a political price no leadership can afford for long.

The scale of women’s mobilization should alarm the state. History shows that women-led agitations—such as the movement after the Mathura rape case in the 1970s—have changed laws and reset politics. Karnataka now stands at the edge of a similar moment. Women’s voices, once unified, are rarely silenced by token arrests or empty assurances. Ignoring them risks turning outrage into a force capable of redefining political loyalties.

Observers have begun calling this a potential “Gen Z moment” for Karnataka. The phrase captures the convergence of disillusioned youth, digital activism, and gendered anger into a single wave. Social media campaigns, campus protests, and village rallies could merge into a movement far larger than the Soujanya case itself. The immediate demand is justice, but the underlying question is whether the state still belongs to its people—or whether it belongs to a handful of untouchable elites.

At bottom, the SIT probe is no longer just about a crime in Dharmasthala. It has become a test of Karnataka’s political integrity. If the SIT emerges as transparent and fearless, the government may salvage some trust. If it fails, it will not only bury justice for the victims but also expose the government’s moral collapse. When justice is sacrificed to power, governments eventually fall—not because of opposition plots, but because the people themselves withdraw their consent.