WHEN MLAs BREAK THE LAW, WHO WILL ENFORCE IT?

 Recent developments in Dakshina Kannada and Udupi districts raise a deeply unsettling question: are elected representatives in Karnataka answerable to the law, or do they operate beyond it? What the public is witnessing is not isolated misconduct but a disturbing pattern of impunity cutting across constituencies and party lines.

In Puttur, the MLA’s open display of power—most notably the public humiliation of the Town Municipal Commissioner—was a stark assault on administrative dignity. No action followed. The officer did not complain, not because the offence was trivial, but because the cost of resistance in a power-skewed ecosystem is too high. The silence of the police, the department, and even the Women’s Commission exposed how institutions retreat when political and local economic power converge. Governance cannot survive when civil servants function under fear.

In Udupi, the MLA Yashpal Suvarna communalised the hore kanike tradition during the Paryaya, an event that has historically symbolised social cooperation beyond religious lines. His statement excluding Muslims was the spark that ignited public outrage. Yet, the state chose to act not against the instigator but against those who reacted. Two citizens were arrested; the MLA faced no consequences. This evasion of accountability sends a dangerous message: provocation by the powerful is tolerable, dissent by citizens is punishable.

In Karkala, heavyweight politician Sunil Kumar’s record illustrates another dimension of the same malaise. Allegations of land grabbing against him have lingered unresolved for years. The Parasurama statue controversy—₹14 crore sanctioned during his ministerial tenure, questions over substandard materials, and an inquiry that appears directionless—has only reinforced public cynicism. When inquiries stretch endlessly and outcomes never arrive, accountability becomes  suspect.

These cases differ in form but are united by a single thread: the law moves downward, never upward.

This selective enforcement corrodes public morale. Communities feel manipulated, civil servants feel exposed, and citizens feel unprotected. Law and order cannot be maintained by shielding those who destabilise society while punishing those who respond.

Elected representatives are not feudal overlords; they are constitutional trustees. The government must understand that inaction is not neutrality. When MLAs act without restraint and institutions look away, the state itself becomes complicit.

Restoring faith requires one simple but courageous step: apply the law uniformly, irrespective of power, position, or party. Without that, democracy in coastal Karnataka risks becoming governance by fear, not by law.