In the Bengali heartland, there’s a common saying: “Jamal eats, but Kamal gets fat.” It carries a dual meaning. One – that those who toil often do not reap the benefits of their labor, while others, who do nothing, end up enjoying the fruits.
The second meaning is even more troubling: someone named Jamal commits the crime, but Kamal is the one punished.
History, political science, and sociology are rife with examples of such injustices—where innocent bystanders are made to bear the burden of others’ misdeeds.
Take late 19th-century British India, in a village in Punjab. A young revolutionary assassinated a British officer and took shelter in his village. In retaliation, British forces labeled the entire village as complicit in rebellion. Women, children, disabled elders—none were spared. History recorded it as “punishment,” but in truth, it was institutionalized revenge.
And such injustices are not exclusive to colonial rule. In 1965, in Selma, Alabama, Reverend James Reeb, a white minister supporting the civil rights movement, was murdered by white supremacists—not for breaking any law, but for believing that racism was vile. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. noted, “He didn’t take the side of Black people; he took the side of humanity.”
In ancient civilizations, the concept of “collective guilt” existed—where companions of a criminal were assumed guilty and punished accordingly. But modern justice holds that each individual must be judged for their own actions. Punishing someone for another’s crime is nothing short of vengeance disguised as justice.
If the ideology or actions of one person result in their acquaintances, companions, or community members being punished, then that society cannot claim to be just. After World War II, many young Germans faced shame and blame for Hitler’s crimes, with the accusation: “Your ancestors chose Hitler, so you are guilty too.” Ironically, this very thinking was used by Nazi Germany against Jews.
Even today, in modern geopolitics, entire communities are stigmatized for the actions of a few extremists. Religious minorities are often scapegoated for crimes they had no part in. The crimes of political allies have led to crackdowns on ordinary workers and peaceful citizens. Villages have been attacked, homes destroyed, simply for their perceived affiliations.
Science tells us that traumatic memories of ancestors can live on in our DNA, resurfacing unexpectedly. Similarly, our deep-seated biases for unjust collective punishment can also linger and reemerge. But we must remember: justice is not revenge, nor is it punishment out of fear. True justice is quiet, principled, and measured.
A society that wishes to be just must first learn: crimes are committed by individuals—not by races, religions, or communities. In a place where “Jamal eats, but Kamal gets fat,” Kamal isn’t safe either. Because in a society where guilt is passed around carelessly, even Kamal—just for staying silent—may one day be told: “You didn’t speak out, so you’re guilty too.”
If we wish to uphold human rights, democracy, and fairness, then we must rid ourselves of this ancient fallacy: “Punish all for one person’s crime.” Otherwise, we will find ourselves not moving forward—but sinking back into the darkness of the past.