In a disturbing revelation, the National Investigation Agency (NIA) recently told a special court that they had discovered a hitlist with more than 950 names during raids at locations linked to individuals associated with the banned Islamist group Popular Front of India (PFI). This information came to light during the bail hearing of some PFI members from Palakkad, and it sent shockwaves through law enforcement and the public alike.

While this alarming list was being revealed, it is important to remember that on 21st May this year, the Supreme Court of India granted bail to individuals accused of being involved in the murder of a Hindu leader. The decision came in the case related to the killing of RSS leader Sreenivasan, and what stood out most were the words spoken by the apex court during the hearing. The court said, “Only one person has been killed. How many people do you want to put behind the bars?” This remark caused serious concern among legal observers, considering the severity and pattern of such targeted killings.

Despite strong objections from the Additional Solicitor General (ASG) Raja Thakare, who emphasized that this case wasn't just about a single murder but about a larger conspiracy involving a terrorist hitlist, bail was still granted to Yahya Thangal and Abdul Rauf, the two accused in the murder of RSS leader Sreenivasan. The ASG clearly pointed out that PFI had drawn up a list of individuals to be eliminated, and this was not a random act of violence.

The case was being heard by a two-judge bench comprising Justice Oka and Justice Ujjal Bhuyan, whose remarks and the final decision sparked a larger debate about how seriously the judiciary treats cases involving violent Islamist networks. The court’s seeming lack of urgency or gravity in dealing with an organization that has been banned for its extremist activities and is known to harbor anti-national sentiments, is deeply concerning.

This incident brings to light a major gap between law enforcement findings and judicial interpretation, particularly in cases related to national security and terrorism.

Unmasking a Conspiracy: ASG Thakare Exposed Yahya Thangal's Role in Hindu Target Killings

During the bail hearing, Additional Solicitor General Raja Thakare made a detailed and disturbing argument against the bail of the accused. Contrary to what the defence tried to portray — that Yahya Thangal was merely a protestor — the ASG argued that Thangal was, in fact, deeply involved in a retaliatory killing conspiracy that followed the murder of a PFI member named Subair.

The court was informed about a statement from an approver in the case, revealing that seven teams were formed to select a Hindu target for revenge following Subair’s death. Thangal and Abdul Rauf were identified as members of the group that zeroed in on RSS worker Sreenivasan. Shockingly, this meeting to pick the target took place at the hospital where Subair’s body was kept, further highlighting the premeditated nature of the crime.

The ASG's arguments were not just based on speculation but were backed by statements from inside the PFI network. It showed that the accused did not just participate in protests or rhetoric, but actively engaged in planning a murder as a political and communal act of revenge.

What adds more weight to the seriousness of this case is that Yahya Thangal had already been in the spotlight earlier for making communal statements against judges of the Kerala High Court, indicating a consistent pattern of instigating hatred and undermining the judiciary.

Yet, even in the face of such serious allegations and evidence of conspiracy, the Supreme Court granted bail — a decision that continues to raise questions on how India’s legal system responds to threats posed by radical Islamist groups.

SC’s Legal Oversight? Conspiracy Laws Ignored, Ideological Motives Downplayed in PFI Bail Order

Despite the comprehensive and fact-based submissions made by Additional Solicitor General (ASG) Raja Thakare, the Supreme Court's stance during the bail hearing raised significant legal and constitutional concerns. Justice Oka, one of the judges on the bench, appeared to downplay the involvement of Yahya Thangal and others in the murder of RSS leader Sreenivasan. His questioning of their role came with the statement, “These people are sitting somewhere else… how can they be made responsible?” He added, “Only one man is killed. Murder is only of one man.”

Such remarks seem to undermine the established understanding of criminal conspiracy in Indian law. According to standard legal interpretation, for someone to be guilty of conspiracy, they do not need to physically execute the crime. Simply being part of the planning, coordination, or intent to facilitate the act is enough. Courts have consistently accepted circumstantial evidence as legitimate proof of conspiracy. However, in this case, the Supreme Court dismissed the approver’s statement, arguing that no direct communication to the hit squad was established, and hence granted bail.

This interpretation contradicts the statutory provisions under Indian criminal law. Under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS), Section 61—previously known as Section 120A of the Indian Penal Code—a conspiracy is defined as: “When two or more persons agree with a common object to do an illegal act or to do a legal act by illegal means, such an agreement constitutes a criminal conspiracy.”

Importantly, the law clearly mentions that an overt act is required only when the agreement is not to commit an offence. But in the present case, where the goal was to commit murder, no further act is required to establish the conspiracy. In that context, the court’s rationale for rejecting the approver’s statement due to the absence of direct communication is not just questionable—it is, by all legal standards, a deviation from well-established jurisprudence.

The Supreme Court itself has upheld these principles in several landmark judgments. In Kehar Singh vs State (Delhi), 1988, the apex court ruled that direct evidence is not necessary to prove conspiracy. A similar view was echoed in Major E.G. Barsay vs State of Bombay, 1961, where the court accepted that an agreement alone is enough to constitute a conspiracy, even without any physical act.

In Rajiv Kumar vs State of Uttar Pradesh, 2017, the Supreme Court reiterated this stance by stating: “It is extremely difficult to adduce direct evidence to prove conspiracy.” The judgment added: “Existence of conspiracy and its objective can be inferred from the surrounding circumstances and the conduct of the accused.”

Given these precedents, the decision to grant bail to PFI members—despite credible statements suggesting their active role in the murder planning—appears to set aside the law in favour of a dangerously lenient interpretation.

From Extremism to Bail: Court Calls Radical Islamist Ideology ‘Not Punishable’

Even more unsettling was the Supreme Court’s casual treatment of the ideological motives behind the accused individuals’ actions. In the case of Abdul Sathar, who is known to have more than 70 criminal cases against him, including charges related to violent activities, the apex court made a statement that has stunned many legal and security experts.

The court argued that “people cannot be kept in jail for ideology.” Justice Oka further stated, “For ideology, you can’t keep somebody in jail. That is the trend we find. It is because they have adopted a particular ideology.”

The concern here is that this ideology isn’t just a personal belief system—it is one that is openly tied to violent extremism and national destabilisation efforts. The ideology in question is detailed in the infamous “India 2047” document released by the PFI, which outlined a roadmap for an Islamist takeover of India. This document is not theoretical—it has been widely cited by investigative agencies and is considered a blueprint for Islamic supremacy through organised infiltration and violence.

To grant bail on the grounds that ‘ideology’ is not punishable not only goes against the spirit of national security laws, but also risks giving legitimacy to anti-national manifestos. The ideology here is not benign or merely philosophical—it is violent, targeted, and hostile to the democratic and constitutional structure of the nation.

This interpretation by the judiciary has raised widespread concern, particularly because radical ideologies have historically been the root of terror networks across the world. When the state and its courts begin to normalize violent extremism under the guise of ideological freedom, it sends a dangerous message and opens the door for future conspiracies to hide behind legal technicalities.

Judiciary’s Blind Spot? Downplaying the Murder of a Hindu Leader While Turning a Blind Eye to PFI’s Chilling Plans

The situation becomes even more disturbing when one considers the growing evidence against the Popular Front of India (PFI), now a banned Islamist organisation, which has been revealed to have maintained a hitlist of nearly 1,000 individuals, including judges. This shocking disclosure has emerged from ongoing investigations by the National Investigation Agency (NIA). Yet, in the face of such a massive and sinister plot, the Indian judiciary has shown surprising leniency—especially towards some of the outfit’s top-level operatives.

Instead of viewing the brutal killing of RSS leader Sreenivasan as a planned act under a larger jihadist conspiracy, the court appeared to minimise the crime. During the bail proceedings, it was repeatedly stated that “only one person” had been murdered—a remark that dangerously trivialises the seriousness of the killing. Such casual reference to a politically targeted murder risks dismissing the broader implications of the act and undermines the sacrifices made by those fighting extremism on the ground.

While the NIA and other agencies are risking their lives to expose the deep-rooted network of PFI, they are operating in a hostile environment where their findings aren’t being given due weight by the courts. Every new lead uncovered by the NIA shows a disturbing pattern of systematic planning, violent ideology, and targeted execution. Yet, the judiciary’s handling of such grave charges with apparent indifference sets a deeply worrying precedent.

What is being missed here is not just the gravity of one man’s murder—it is the entire ecosystem of hatred and conspiracy that lies beneath. The bail granted to those involved, based on the flawed justification that the murder was of just “one person”, sends the wrong message to society. It suggests that unless there is a large body count or direct evidence, even premeditated, ideologically charged killings may be brushed aside.

Moreover, the court’s earlier observation that ideology alone cannot be punished adds to this dangerous trend. In the context of an organisation like PFI—whose stated mission included an Islamist takeover of India, as detailed in its “India 2047” document—such a stance from the highest judicial authority signals tolerance for radical agendas, so long as they are cloaked in ideological language.

At a time when investigative agencies are slowly revealing how deeply PFI's tentacles reached, it is crucial that India’s judiciary rises to the challenge. These are not simple criminal cases—they are strategic, ideological attacks that test the resilience of India’s democratic institutions. If courts continue to view them as isolated events, disconnected from a broader agenda, it is not just the legal process that suffers—it is the entire nation that stands to lose.