Introduction

Ask any law student in India what the three most important statutes of the twentieth century were, and chances are they will say the Indian Penal Code, the Code of Criminal Procedure, and the Indian Evidence Act without missing a beat. These three laws governed every arrest, every trial, and every conviction in the country for well over a century. Then, in a single legislative sweep, all three were replaced. On July 1, 2024, India's criminal justice landscape changed fundamentally. Three new laws took effect: the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS), and the Bharatiya Sakshya Adhiniyam (BSA). Together, they dismantled a legal architecture that had been built during the British colonial era and replaced as it with something designed for a country that sends spacecraft to the moon, processes billions of digital transactions every day, and is grappling with crimes that the original lawmakers could not have imagined. This article traces the full arc of Indian criminal law, from its colonial origins to the sweeping 2024 reforms, and then looks honestly at where the system still struggles.

Part I: The Historical Foundation

The Colonial Origins

The story of criminal law in India is inseparable from the story of British rule. The Indian Penal Code of 1860 was drafted principally by Thomas Babington Macaulay and his Law Commission. It was meticulous, comprehensive, and drafted with an eye toward maintaining colonial order. The Code of Criminal Procedure, initially enacted in 1898 and revised in 1973, set out the machinery for enforcing those penal provisions, while the Indian Evidence Act of 1872 governed what could and could not be placed before a court. These laws were, by any measure, impressive pieces of legal drafts Manship. They were clear, systematic, and drew from the best of English common law thinking of the time. But they were also built around the assumption that the state, specifically the colonial state, needed maximum power over its subjects. They prioritised order over fairness and treated the accused as a source of danger rather than a rights-bearing individual. For the first several decades after Independence in 1947, these colonial codes remained largely untouched. The 1973 revision of the CrPC introduced some improvements, but the fundamental structure remained the same. Criticism accumulated over the years. Courts were flooded with cases. Trials dragged on for years, sometimes decades. Prisons filled with people who had not yet been convicted of anything. The system was not broken in the simple sense of the word; it functioned, but it often functioned very slowly and very unevenly.

Part II: The New Criminal Laws of 2024

The Transformation

The government's decision to replace all three foundational statutes at once was an ambitious move. The three new laws were passed by Parliament in December 2023 and came into force on July 1, 2024. The stated goal was to shift the system from a punishment-focused model inherited from colonialism to a justice-focused one suited for independent India.

The Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS): The New Criminal Code

The BNS replaced the IPC and functions as India's substantive criminal law, defining offences and setting punishments. The transition was not merely cosmetic. The original IPC had 511 sections; the BNS reduced this to 358, while adding 21 new offences and removing provisions that courts had already struck down as unconstitutional.

What is new:

One of the most significant additions is the explicit criminalisation of terrorism and organised crime. Section 113 of the BNS defines terrorism broadly as any act intended to threaten the unity, integrity, security, or economic security of India, or to intimidate the general public. Section 111 criminalises organised crime, which includes kidnapping, extortion, robbery, vehicle theft, land grabbing, human trafficking, and cybercrime committed on behalf of a crime syndicate. Even "petty organised crime" now has its own dedicated provision under Section 112, recognising that gang-related petty offending causes significant social harm even when individual acts seem minor. The BNS also introduces the concept of mob violence based on identity markers as a distinct offence. Murder or grievous hurt committed by a group of five or more people on grounds of race, caste, sex, language, personal belief, or place of birth carries a punishment ranging from seven years to life imprisonment, or death. This is a direct legislative response to incidents of mob lynching that became a disturbing feature of Indian public life in the years preceding the reform. Community service has been introduced as a form of punishment for minor offences, a step toward reformative rather than purely punitive justice. This is a notable philosophical shift: the law acknowledges that not every conviction needs to result in imprisonment.

What changed: Sedition, one of the most contested provisions of the IPC, is no longer an offence. Section 124A of the IPC, which criminalised acts likely to cause disaffection toward the government, had been used against journalists, activists, and students in ways that drew sustained criticism from courts and civil society. The BNS replaces it with a new offence: acts that excite secession, armed rebellion, subversive activities, or that endanger the sovereignty and integrity of India. Critics argue that this replacement effectively carries over the chilling potential of sedition law under a different name, but supporters contend that the new provision is more precisely targeted at genuinely dangerous acts rather than mere criticism of the government. Adultery has been removed as an offence. The Supreme Court had already declared Section 497 of the IPC unconstitutional in 2018 in the Joseph Shine case, and the BNS formally omits it. Similarly, Section 377 of the IPC, which criminalised consensual same-sex acts and which the Supreme Court had read down in the Navtej Singh Johar case in 2018, has been dropped entirely. Punishments have been enhanced for 33 offences, including causing death by negligence and criminal breach of trust. Fines have been increased for 83 offences.

What was not changed and remains controversial:

The BNS retains the marital rape exception, meaning that non-consensual sexual intercourse by a husband with his wife is still not treated as rape in law. The Justice Verma Committee, set up after the brutal 2012 Delhi gang rape case, had recommended removing this exc

eption in 2013. That recommendation was not incorporated. This omission continues to be a source of significant legal and moral debate.

The Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS): The New Procedure Code

The BNSS replaced the CrPC and governs how criminal cases are investigated, tried, and concluded. It is where the ambitions of the reform are perhaps most visible.

Zero FIR and e-FIR: Under the old system, a First Information Report had to be filed at the police station with jurisdiction over the area where the crime occurred. This created practical barriers, particularly for victims who were in a different city or who committed a crime whose location was unclear. The BNSS now allows a Zero FIR, which means a complaint can be registered at any police station regardless of jurisdiction. The station that receives it must transfer the case to the appropriate station. Electronic FIRs can also be filed online, with the requirement that the electronic report be formally recorded and signed within three days.

Mandatory forensic investigation: For offences punishable with seven years of imprisonment or more, forensic investigation is now mandatory. Officers are required to visit crime scenes and collect forensic evidence. This represents a significant shift toward evidence-based investigation rather than confession-based investigation, which had historically made custodial interrogation a central tool of the police.

Defined timelines: One of the most practical changes in the BNSS is the introduction of time limits at key stages. Investigations in serious offences must be completed within 90 days. Judgments must be delivered within 45 days of the conclusion of arguments. Trials must begin within 60 days of the first hearing. These deadlines are intended to address the endemic problem of delay in the criminal justice system, though critics note that statutory timelines are only useful when courts and police have the resources to meet them.

Electronic proceedings: Summons can now be issued electronically via SMS or other digital means. Trials can be conducted through video conferencing. Evidence can be recorded electronically. The entire architecture of criminal proceedings is being asked to embrace the digital world.

Police custody: One provision that has drawn criticism is the extension of permissible police custody. Under the old CrPC, police custody could not exceed 15 days in total. The BNSS retains the overall 15-day limit but allows it to be split and used across the initial detention period, which critics argue gives police expanded ability to hold suspects and limits access to bail.

The Bharatiya Sakshya Adhiniyam (BSA): The New Evidence Law

The BSA replaced the Indian Evidence Act of 1872 and governs what can be proved in court and how. Its most significant departure from the old law is the treatment of electronic evidence. Under the old Indian Evidence Act, electronic records were treated as secondary evidence and required a specific certificate under the much-litigated Section 65B to be admissible. This created years of procedural wrangling and inconsistent judicial interpretations. The BSA changes this fundamentally. Section 57 of the BSA recognises electronic records as primary evidence. The admissibility of digital evidence, including CCTV footage, WhatsApp messages, email records, call logs, and server data, is now treated as the norm rather than the exception, subject to authenticity requirements rather than technical certification hurdles. The BSA also includes special provisions for DNA evidence and expert opinions, giving courts clearer guidance on how to treat scientific evidence. The presumption of innocence is explicitly stated as a foundational principle of the legislation.

Part III: The Structure of Criminal Justice

How a Criminal Case Works in India

Understanding the new laws is easier with a sense of how the criminal justice process actually works in practice. It begins with the FIR. When a cognisable offence is reported to the police, they are required to register an FIR and investigate. After investigation, if there is sufficient evidence, the police file a charge sheet in court. The court then takes cognisance, frames charges, and the trial begins. The prosecution presents evidence and examines witnesses. The accused has the right to cross examine. After arguments from both sides, the court delivers its judgment. If convicted, the accused can appeal. The system operates at multiple levels. Magistrates' courts handle the bulk of criminal cases. Sessions courts have jurisdiction over more serious offences, including those punishable by death or life imprisonment. High Courts hear appeals and also exercise original jurisdiction in certain matters. The Supreme Court sits at the apex and can hear criminal appeals under Article 136 of the Constitution.

Bailable and Non-Bailable Offences

A central distinction in Indian criminal law is between bailable and non-bailable offences. In bailable offences, bail is a right; the accused can claim it as a matter of course. In non-bailable offences, bail is a matter of judicial discretion. The BNSS carries forward this distinction while introducing some procedural changes. Anticipatory bail, introduced in the 1973 CrPC, allows a person apprehending arrest to apply for bail in advance. It remains available under the BNSS, though the Supreme Court has held, in Devinder Kumar Bansal v. State of Punjab (2025), that anticipatory bail is a discretionary power rather than an inherent part of the right to life and liberty under Article 21 of the Constitution.

Special Laws

A full account of criminal law in India cannot be limited to the BNS, BNSS, and BSA. A range of special statutes operate alongside them. The Prevention of Corruption Act governs bribery and public official misconduct. The Narcotic Drugs and Psychotropic Substances Act, 1985 deals with drug offences and places significant burdens on the accused in certain circumstances. The Prevention of Money Laundering Act, 2002 created its own investigative and prosecutorial machinery. The Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act governs terrorism-related offences in more detail and with significantly harsher provisions. The Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Act, 2012 provides a dedicated framework for crimes against minors. These statutes create their own procedural regimes, and in several of them the presumptions run differently, creating harder conditions for the accused than under the general criminal law.

Part IV: Constitutional Safeguards

The Rights of the Accused

The Constitution of India, which came into force in 1950, contains a Bill of Rights in Part III. Several of these Fundamental Rights are directly relevant to criminal law. Article 20 protects against double jeopardy, meaning a person cannot be prosecuted twice for the same offence. It also prohibits retroactive criminalisation and protects against self-incrimination, establishing that no person can be compelled to be a witness against themselves. Article 21 guarantees the right to life and personal liberty and cannot be taken away except by a procedure established by law. The Supreme Court has expanded Article 21 over decades to include the right to a speedy trial, legal aid, and dignified treatment in custody. Article 22 provides specific protections in cases of arrest, including the right to be informed of the grounds of arrest, the right to consult a legal practitioner, and the right to be produced before a magistrate within 24 hours. These constitutional provisions function as floors below which the criminal law cannot go. Courts have used them extensively to discipline police and prosecutorial overreach.

Key Supreme Court Judgments

The Supreme Court of India has shaped criminal law as much as Parliament has, through decisions that have redefined rights and procedures. The D.K. Basu v. State of West Bengal (1996) case laid down detailed guidelines for arrest and interrogation, including the requirement that detainees be informed of their rights and that a record be maintained of their custody. Selvi v. State of Karnataka (2010) held that narco-analysis, brain mapping, and lie detector tests cannot be conducted without the consent of the subject, affirming the right against self-incrimination.  Arnesh Kumar v. State of Bihar (2014) directed those arrests in offences carrying a maximum sentence of seven years or less should not be made mechanically and that magistrates should apply their minds before authorising detention.

Part V: The Persistent Challenges

The Undertrial Crisis

No account of Indian criminal law is honest without confronting what may be its most serious structural problem: the staggering number of people in prison who have not been convicted of anything. According to data from the National Crime Records Bureau, undertrials make up approximately 73 to 76 percent of India's prison population. The India Justice Report 2025 found that about 76 percent of prisoners are undertrials, with the burden falling disproportionately on poor and marginalised communities who cannot meet bail conditions. As of 2024, India had around 1,333 jails with a total sanctioned capacity of approximately 4.53 lakh inmates, but the actual inmate population exceeded 5.11 lakh. Delhi recorded an occupancy rate of approximately 194.6 percent, meaning its prisons held nearly twice as many people as they were designed to hold. This is not just a prison management problem. It is a justice problem. A person who spends years in pretrial detention and then is acquitted has suffered a form of punishment without ever having been found guilty. The principle of presumption of innocence is undermined every day a person sits behind bars waiting for their trial to begin. The causes are well understood: a shortage of judges, inadequate legal aid for the poor, a culture of caution around bail in non-bailable offences, and slow investigations. India reportedly needs at least 10,000 additional judges to address existing backlogs. As of 2024, there were more than 4.7 crore cases pending across the country's courts.

The Problem of Delay

Criminal trials in India can stretch for years or even decades. Witnesses become unavailable, memories fade, and the accused and victims alike live-in limbo. The BNSS has attempted to address this through its statutory time limits, but deadlines written into law do not automatically translate into courts and police departments that have the people, infrastructure, and resources to meet them. The gap between statutory aspiration and ground reality is a recurring theme in Indian law reform. Whether the BNSS timelines will actually reduce delays, or merely create a new category of procedural violation, is something that will only become clear over time.

Access to Justice and Legal Aid

India has a system of legal aid under the Legal Services Authorities Act, but in practice, the quality and accessibility of legal aid varies enormously. A wealthy accused in a white-collar crime case will have senior counsel, forensic experts, and bail applications filed within hours. A poor accused in a minor theft case may spend months in jail simply because no one is helping them apply for bail. The Supreme Court acknowledged this in its 2024 judgment on bail policy, directing legal services authorities to intervene for undertrials who cannot furnish bail.

Women and Criminal Law

The treatment of crimes against women has been a flashpoint in Indian criminal law for decades. The 2012 Delhi gang rape case and its aftermath produced the most significant legislative reforms in this area, introducing stricter provisions on rape, expanding the definition of sexual assault, and creating mandatory minimum sentences. The BNS has retained and in some cases strengthened these provisions. However, significant gaps remain. The marital rape exception survives in the new law. Crimes of domestic violence, which affect millions of Indian women, are addressed primarily through the civil law framework of the Protection of Women from Domestic Violence Act, 2005 rather than through the criminal law, meaning that most abusers face restraining orders rather than prosecution.

The Digital Challenge

Cybercrime is one area where the new laws represent genuine progress. The BNS now treats cybercrime as part of organised criminal activity, and the BSA's treatment of electronic evidence as primary evidence resolves years of confusion about digital proof. But cybercrime evolves faster than legislation, and the regulatory framework will need continuous updating to keep pace.

Part VI: Looking Ahead

The reforms that took effect on July 1, 2024 represent the most ambitious overhaul of India's criminal law since Independence. They address real problems: colonial-era language, outdated crime definitions, slow procedures, and inadequate recognition of digital realities. The introduction of community service, defined timelines, mandatory forensic investigation, and Zero FIR all reflect genuine improvements in thinking about what a criminal justice system should do. But law reform on paper is only the beginning. The BNSS can specify a 90-day investigation timeline, but that timeline depends on trained investigators, functioning forensic labs, and police stations with adequate staff. The BSA can declare electronic evidence primary, but courts and lawyers need to develop the expertise to handle it properly. The BNS can introduce community service as a punishment, but magistrates need guidance and infrastructure to implement it. The undertrial crisis is unlikely to be resolved by legislative drafting alone. It needs more courts, more judges, better-funded legal aid, and a fundamental shift in the culture of bail decision making. It needs a recognition that detention is not a neutral administrative act but a profound deprivation of liberty. India's criminal law is in transition. The country has chosen to break with its colonial inheritance in a comprehensive way, which is itself significant. The question now is whether the institutions, the resources, and they will exist to make the new framework work as its drafters intended. The answer to that question will determine the experience of justice for millions of ordinary Indians for decades to come.

Conclusion

Criminal law in India sits at the intersection of history, politics, social structure, and constitutional aspiration. It has come a long way from the codes drafted in Calcutta in the middle of the nineteenth century, and in the past two years it has taken a decisive step toward becoming something genuinely suited to the country India is today. The Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita, and the Bharatiya Sakshya Adhiniyam are more than renamed versions of their predecessors. They reflect a different philosophy: one that places the victim alongside the state in the criminal process, that treats technology as an asset rather than a complication, and that acknowledges the reformative purpose of punishment alongside its deterrent one. But the reforms also carry unresolved tensions: the reach of national security provisions, the survival of the marital rape exception, the uncertain fate of the statutory timelines, and the deep structural inequalities that mean the law does not operate the same way for everyone. Criminal law, ultimately, is not just a set of rules. It is a mirror held up to a society, reflecting what it values and who it protects. India's new criminal laws are a better mirror than what came before, but the reflection they show is still imperfect, and the work of making it truer is far from done.