*Kedar Manoj Ammanji

(Source:Money Control)

This article critically examines the legal and administrative failures surrounding the tragic stampede during the Royal Challengers Bangalore victory celebrations in Karnataka. It analyses the fragmented regulatory framework under the Karnataka Police Act, the obsolete Fatal Accidents Act, and general criminal provisions, highlighting their inability to ensure crowd safety or fix accountability. The piece critiques the recently proposed Karnataka Crowd Control Bill, exposing its vague definitions, structural lacunae, and failure to mandate inter-agency coordination or enforceable safety protocols. By tracing the mismatch between outdated laws and modern mass mobilisations, it argues that crowd disasters stem not from isolated negligence but from systemic inertia. The article calls for a comprehensive legislative overhaul grounded in foresight, enforceability, and institutional responsibility to prevent future tragedies.

Introduction

Bengaluru’s celebrations turned deadly a couple of weeks ago. As Royal Challengers Bangalore returned home victorious, the city rolled out a massive, three-stop parade to welcome them, an airport reception, a formal felicitation at the Vidhana Soudha attended by the Chief Minister, Deputy Chief Minister, and Governor, and a grand finale outside the M. Chinnaswamy Stadium. Originally planned as a four-stop open-bus tour, the route was scaled back, but the crowds were anything but small.

Lakhs gathered from across the city, eager to catch a glimpse of their champions. But behind the scenes, there were serious concerns. The Bangalore Police had reportedly denied permission for the event, citing lack of time to prepare and staff fatigue after weeks of election duty. Still, the show went on. Officials ignored a written warning from the police, insisting the celebrations would be safe and managed.

But they weren’t. As gates to the stadium grounds opened, the mood turned from celebration to chaos. A stampede broke out, leaving eleven people dead and over fifty injured. The scene was heartbreaking, shoes and banners scattered across the pavement, joy replaced by panic. In the hours that followed, the blame game began. The state government swiftly suspended top police officers and ordered the arrest of RCB team officials, members of the Karnataka State Cricket Association, and event managers. Leaders who just hours earlier posed proudly with the trophy were now pointing fingers, refusing to take responsibility. This wasn’t the first time. India has seen tragedies like this before, at Kumbh Melas, temple festivals, and political rallies, where events proceed without clear safety plans, and when disaster strikes, officials trade accusations instead of answers. The real questions linger in the silence after the sirens:

RCB is a private team and not a state representative, raising questions about why the state machinery was so deeply involved in organising multiple celebrations. Tellingly, the state never organised such enthusiastic celebrations (barring private felicitation at the CM’s house) when the Karnataka Ranji Team, which officially represents the state, won the prestigious Ranji Trophy back-to-back a decade ago. In the aftermath, the familiar pattern repeats: blame is passed, probes are ordered, and those who sounded the alarm are punished.

This article examines three critical questions: Who is legally responsible for crowd safety? What safety protocols actually exist? And why is accountability always the first casualty when public joy turns into public tragedy? In answering these, it maps the existing legal framework under the Karnataka Police Act, Fatal Accidents Act and related criminal provisions, critiques the shortcomings of the newly proposed Karnataka Crowd Control Bill and highlights the systemic inertia in creating enforceable safety protocols and institutional accountability.

Existing Legal Framework

            Permission to Host Public Events

Although there is no standard operating procedure (SOP) in place for managing public gatherings and events, the Karnataka Police Act, 1963 clearly places the responsibility for maintaining order during such events on the Commissioner of Police and the District Magistrate. Under Sections 31(1)(o), (w)(iii), (y), and (z), these authorities have broad powers to regulate events in public spaces. Specifically, Section 31(1)(o) empowers them to control public assemblies and processions on streets. Section 31(1)(w)(iii) allows regulation of entry and exit points at venues where the public gathers, including for entertainment or amusement to ensure public safety. Section 31(1)(y) governs how tickets or passes to such events may be sold. Section 31(1)(z) gives the Commissioner the authority to prescribe the procedure for obtaining permission or licenses for such events.

Pertinently, Section 40 mandates that a police officer, ranked above a constable, must be physically present at public places to prevent disorder or breaches of law. Taken together, these provisions make it clear that there is no concept of ‘automatic’ or ‘deemed’ permission. Every public event must receive explicit prior approval from the Commissioner of Police or an authorised official. Those in contravention of s.31 are liable to be punished u/s 103 of the Act and could also be punished for Criminal Negligence under s.106 of the BNS (if the test for s.106 is independently satisfied).

It must be noted that an offence committed in contravention of s.31 of the Act entails a maximum punishment of only five-hundred rupees and/or imprisonment of upto three months only. Being a non-cognisable offence, cognizance can only be taken when there is an accompanying offence that is cognisable. (s.155(4)  of the CrPC and affirmed in the context of the Karnataka Police Act in Siddaramaiah v State of Karnataka by the Karnataka High Court). This, I will demonstrate has very less teeth in enforcing the regulation itself.

The Karnataka Police Act, in its current form, lacks the necessary enforcement strength to ensure meaningful compliance. In the absence of adverse incidents such as a stampede, non-compliance with Section 31 does not typically attract penal provisions under the IPC, BNS, or any other criminal law. As a result, the violation would amount only to a non-cognisable offence, punishable by a nominal fine of Rs. 500 and a maximum imprisonment of three months. In the case of companies or organisations, even this limited liability of Rs. 500 and a maximum imprisonment of three months is triggered only when individual culpability is independently established. If, for instance, an event were to be conducted without the requisite police approval mandated under the Act, and no untoward incident occurred, the organiser would merely be liable to a Rs. 500 fine, despite having bypassed statutory safeguards designed to ensure public safety.

Criminal Liability for Negligence or offences under the BNS

The test to determine vicarious criminal liability of officials of the three entities are not met in the present case. The FIR against RCB, KSCA and DNA networks lists offences under s. 105 (culpable homicide not amounting to murder), s.115 (voluntarily causing hurt), s.118 (voluntarily causing grievous hurt), and s.190 (unlawful assembly) of the BNS. As a cardinal principle of criminal law, directors and officials of a company cannot be held vicariously liable unless the statute expressly provides for it (see Sunil Bharti Mittal v. CBI). Statutes like the Negotiable Instruments Act, Drugs and Cosmetics Act, Essential Commodities Act expressly provide for vicarious liability of the Directors of the company accused. However, in the BNS,  in the absence of a specific provision, there must be specific allegations against each of the officials so sought to be made accused, for them to be held liable. (see Delhi Race Club ). In the present case, the FIR is filed against the three entities but does neither name the officials of these entities nor make any specific allegations on the involvement of specific officials of the three entities. In light of that, officials of these companies could only be made party once investigation reveals ‘credible information’ or ‘reasons to believe’ specific involvement of these officials. Thus, the 4 arrests of the officials of the 3 entities that have been made so far are illegal in substance, apart from contentions of illegal procedure of arrest being made by the parties in court. As the matter is sub-judice and is taking different turns each minute with each party making new averments and allegations against others, it would be futile to speculate on it further.

But as a general matter, unless specific involvement of individuals of companies involved in organising are made out, they cannot be held liable for the actions of a company. The prosecution must make out a case of involvement of the officials in charge of companies accused in such public accidents to hold them liable. Else, the maximum punishment is that the Company can be fined under the BNS along with the Karnataka Police Act and the Fatal Accidents Act. Once the CID investigation, Report of the One-Man Commission and any parallel inquiry such as by the Urban Commissioner is complete, the CID police may charge and make accused the people in charge of the entities. But it is to be seen whether an offence can be made out against them under any of the provisions, including proving their direct involvement and not merely because they were individuals involved in day-to-day operations of RCB/KSCA or DNA Networks.

The Fatal Accidents Act

Another statute that could possibly cover the field is The Fatal Accidents Act, 1855 (a colonial-era legislation). This Act governs compensation for loss of life due to wrongful acts or default by others. However, the act is quite out-dated and requires a relook. The Supreme Court repeatedly, and in the much talked about case of the Uphaar Cinema Tragedy emphasised that the FAA must be relooked into as it barely fixes any accountability and is effectively a useless provision in the current day. It is not penal and only compensates the deceased’s family on the basis of the multiplier method taking into account annual contribution of the deceased and an age multiplier. It is a relic of the past and offers no meaningful protection or regulation today.

Analyzing the Draft Bill on Crowd Control

The Karnataka Government brought in a draft bill – The Karnataka Crowd Control (Managing Crowd at Events and Venues of Mass Gathering) Bill, 2025 to regulate permissions and crowd for public events. While it is a welcome attempt to address crowd-related issues, it suffers from serious structural and functional lacunae that limits its effectiveness in actual situations such as a stampede. It specifically and arbitrarily excludes a large portion of high risk religious events like jatras, rathotsavas and pallai utsavas from the scope of the act, undermining its core public safety objective. These are precisely the types of mass gatherings most prone to stampedes in India (see Kumbh Mela Stampede or the Tirupati TTD Stampede ). Section 3 only requires permission from the jurisdictional police station, without mandating input from other critical departments. In events involving large crowds, especially at older venues like the M. Chinnaswamy Stadium, it is essential to get joint approvals from fire services, traffic police, health authorities and the municipal corporation. The bill should have required a full safety review of infrastructure, crowd capacity, entry-exit routes and emergency access in order to approve an event such as the celebration that took place. It is pertinent to note that the report of the one-man commission comprising Justice John M. Cunha (Retd) (since released) flagged poor infrastructural capacity and inadequate entry-exit routes as contributing to the magnitude of the stampede.

The bill also lacks important safeguards. It does not require crowd modelling, evacuation plans, fire-safety checks, control rooms or mock drills. There are no provisions requiring standard operating procedures (SOPs) for police or event organisers. While it makes organisers responsible for compensation, there is no mention of minimum amounts, insurance coverage or timelines for payment. The bill also fails to set up any independent body to investigate stampedes or crowd-related deaths, as government negligence is often involved. The blanket immunity granted under s.10 for actions done in ‘good faith’ is vague and could be used to escape accountability.

One may argue that incorporating such requirements could allow the Government to use them as a pretext to deny permissions for protests. However, protests in Karnataka are governed independently by the Karnataka Police Act. Though itself subject to controversy, the Licensing and Regulation of Protests, Demonstrations and Protest Marches (Bengaluru City) Order, 2021 issued under this Act designate ‘Freedom Park’ in Bengaluru as the official protest venue – a venue inherently compliant with such safety norms. In the context of Bengaluru, this Order was issued pursuant to the directions of the Hon’ble Karnataka High Court in a suo moto PIL directing the Government to ensure “unobstructed vehicular traffic” and regulate protests. Moreover, restrictions on protests fall within the ambit of the ‘public order’ exception under Article 19(3) of the Constitution. As long as such content-neutral conditions, such as fire safety checks or evacuation plans are met, any denial of permission beyond this would be open to challenge before the High Court (See Himat Lal K. Shah v. Commissioner of Police, Ahmedabad [SC, 5J]). Therefore, incorporating these safeguards does not restrict the right to protest.

The Bill appears to be a reactionary response to the recent stampede rather than a carefully considered legislative measure. It lacks a coherent vision or policy direction, with even the definitional clauses poorly drafted, vague, and under inclusive, failing to meaningfully capture the range of events and risks it aims to regulate. The definitions of a “crowd” and “event planner” are vague and do not cover the whole range of events. The definition of a crowd ends with – (type of crowd) “as may be notified from time to time”. The definition of an “event” or “event planner” reads – “such functions where there is likelihood of gathering of mass, as the Government may, by notification, from time to time specifies (sic)”. Crucial definitions such as an “event” or “crowd” coming under the purview of the act have not been defined correctly. It is understandable that the Government may want to widen the scope of the application. It could have opted to have an inclusive definition and a proviso that the government may, from time to time, specify additions. However, the entirety of the definition is left to the notification of the government. It is unclear how the government proposes to, by way of notification, define provisions in the act, when the intent of the legislation seems to be regulating (a) grant of approval; (b) consequences of contravention. Why do such definitions and types of events have to be notified subsequently? If there are no notifications to such effect, it renders the act futile and permissions redundant, as most events would not come under the purview of the act as it stands.

The law reads like a hastily assembled framework with no clear articulation of its object, purpose, or enforcement structure. While it is possible that certain procedural details may be left to the rules, this Bill is so skeletal in design that rules cannot breathe life into it. Delegated legislation can only supplement existing provisions, not create new duties, institutions, or safeguards that the parent statute entirely omits. The power to make subordinate legislation is derived from the enabling act and it is fundamental that the delegated legislation cannot be made to supplant the provisions of the enabling act but can only supplement it. “What is permitted is the delegation of ancillary or subordinate legislative functions, or what is fictionally called, a power to fill up details” (St. Johns Teachers Training Institute v. Regional Director).

This is not just a case of incompleteness; it reflects a lack of legislative intent and seriousness in addressing the structural causes of crowd disasters.

The legal framework governing crowd control and event permissions must evolve to reflect the realities of the digital age, where social media can trigger mass gatherings within minutes. Legacy infrastructure, both physical and legal, has failed to keep pace. Statutes like the Karnataka Police Act and the Fatal Accidents Act, conceived decades or even centuries ago, are ill-equipped to address the scale, speed, and spontaneity of such mobilizations. Nor does the latest draft bill adequately respond to these challenges. To safeguard public order effectively, enforcement mechanisms must be forward-looking, grounded in real-time data, and supported by robust inter-agency coordination.

Conclusion

Tragedies like the RCB celebration stampede expose the glaring absence of a coherent legal and administrative framework to govern mass gatherings in India. In the immediate aftermath, the focus inevitably shifts to scapegoating, rather than accountability. Criminal liability is sought under general penal provisions or archaic statutes like the Fatal Accidents Act, which offer neither deterrence nor meaningful compensation. The current legal regime, including the Karnataka Police Act and the proposed Crowd Control Bill, fails to impose clear duties or coordination mechanisms across agencies. What is urgently required is not just piecemeal reform, but a comprehensive legislative overhaul. A revised bill must be drafted with foresight, mandating inter-departmental safety audits, clear accountability frameworks, and enforceable standardappyous for risk assessment and crowd management. It must embed structural safeguards, not merely half-baked clauses. Without this, public safety will continue to depend on luck, not law.

*Kedar Manoj Ammanji is a student of law at the National Law School of India University, Bengaluru. Among other interests, Kedar has an interest in Urban Governance and Policy