Activist and environmentalist Sonam Wangchuk was detained on 26 September 2025 under the National Security Act (NSA), 1980, following incidents of mob violence in which more than 30 CRPF personnel were injured, and public property was damaged, leading to unrest in the Union Territory of Leh and Ladakh.
The Ministry of Home Affairs attributed the unrest to Sonam Wangchuk, alleging that his speeches were provocative and contributed to the disturbances.
His detention under the National Security Act (NSA) brings into sharp focus three fundamental issues that go to the heart of constitutional governance in India: the scope and limits of preventive detention, the boundaries of executive discretion under the NSA, and the responsibility of constitutional courts to act with urgency when personal liberty is at stake.
At one level, the matter concerns the validity of a single detention order. At a deeper level, it raises troubling questions about the increasing normalisation of extraordinary statutory powers in situations involving political dissent, and whether the writ of habeas corpus continues to retain the immediacy that the Constitution envisions.
Preventive Detentions Exceptions, Not Norm
Preventive detention has a nod of the Supreme Court but with exceptional safeguard to detention. Unlike punitive detention imposed after conviction, it allows incarceration without trial, based solely on the executive’s satisfaction that detention is necessary to prevent future acts prejudicial to national security, defence, or public order.
The National Security Act is among the broadest of such statutes, and authorises detention for extended periods, subject to procedural safeguards such as communication of grounds and review by an Advisory Board.
The legitimacy of preventive detention has always been viewed with caution in constitutional jurisprudence. The Supreme Court has consistently held that such laws must be strictly construed. The grounds of detention must be specific and proximate, based on relevant material, and there must be a rational nexus between the alleged conduct and the need for preventive custody.
The power cannot be exercised mechanically. Nor can it be used as a substitute for the ordinary criminal process where prosecution under penal law would suffice.
A central distinction in this jurisprudence is that between “law and order” and “public order.” Every breach of law does not amount to a disturbance of public order. The Supreme Court has clarified, through a long line of decisions, that public order concerns the even tempo of community life, not isolated or localised disturbances. Invoking preventive detention without meeting this higher threshold constitutes misuse of an extraordinary power.
In cases involving protest, dissent, or public mobilisation, judicial scrutiny must be even more rigorous, since constitutional democracy rests upon the protection of political speech. If the material relied upon fails to disclose a genuine and proximate threat to public order or national security, and instead reflects disagreement with governmental policy or discomfort with organised protest, the detention cannot withstand judicial review.
A Constitutional Alarm
The filing of a habeas corpus petition in such circumstances is not a routine procedural formality. It is a constitutional alarm. The writ of habeas corpus is among the oldest and most vital remedies available to a person deprived of liberty.
Its function is direct and uncompromising: the detaining authority must justify the legality of custody before a court of law. Liberty, once lost, cannot be meaningfully restored by later vindication. Delay in adjudication therefore weakens the very essence of the remedy.
In this context, concerns regarding delay assume constitutional significance. When a habeas corpus petition challenging preventive detention is repeatedly adjourned, time itself begins to operate in favor of the executive.
Each additional day of detention pending adjudication represents an irreversible deprivation of liberty. Even if the detention is ultimately quashed, the detainee has already endured incarceration without trial. The Constitution contemplates judicial review as a real and effective safeguard, not a symbolic one. If review is prolonged to the point where a substantial portion of the detention period is spent awaiting judicial determination, the safeguard risks becoming illusory.
There is also an important institutional dimension. When the Supreme Court entertains a habeas corpus petition under Article 32, it functions in its most essential capacity as the guardian of fundamental rights.
The right to life and personal liberty under Article 21 lies at the core of constitutional morality. Since Maneka Gandhi, the Court has interpreted Article 21 to require that any procedure depriving a person of liberty must be just, fair, and reasonable. Preventive detention statutes survive constitutional scrutiny on the assurance that procedural protections, including meaningful and timely judicial review, will be strictly enforced. If such review is delayed or approached with undue deference to executive satisfaction, the constitutional balance tilts decisively away from the citizen.
The Illusion of 'Public' Interest
The broader democratic implications are equally serious. The use of the National Security Act in contexts involving public advocacy or protest signals the State’s willingness to deploy its most coercive powers outside the ordinary criminal justice framework.
Preventive detention dispenses with core safeguards of criminal trials, including proof beyond reasonable doubt, cross examination of witnesses, and open adjudication. When applied to individuals engaged in political expression, the chilling effect extends far beyond the detainee.
It influences the broader climate of public discourse. Constitutional courts must therefore examine not only the formal validity of detention orders but also the substantive necessity for invoking so drastic a measure.
None of this diminishes the importance of national security or public order. The State must retain the authority to respond decisively to genuine threats. However, constitutionalism demands proportionality and restraint. Extraordinary powers must remain exceptional. If preventive detention becomes a matter of administrative convenience or a mechanism to manage dissent, the distinction between democratic governance and executive dominance begins to erode.
The Sonam Wangchuk matter is therefore not merely a challenge to a single detention order. It compels reflection on whether the constitutional promise of habeas corpus remains robust in practice. The strength of the writ lies not only in the eventual outcome of litigation but in the speed and seriousness with which courts subject executive action to scrutiny. A constitutional democracy is ultimately measured by how it protects liberty when doing so is inconvenient.
If challenges to preventive detention are allowed to drift, the balance between State power and individual freedom shifts in ways the framers of the Constitution sought carefully to prevent.
The question is not whether courts will eventually rule upon the legality of detention. The question is whether they will do so in time to render the remedy meaningful. Habeas corpus was conceived as a swift judicial command against unlawful restraint. Its vitality depends upon urgency. Where liberty is concerned, delay is not neutral. It has consequences, and in matters of preventive detention, those consequences are measured in days spent behind bars without trial.
(Kumar Kartikeya is an advocate, Supreme Court of India. This is an opinion piece and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for the same.)