Joydeep Chowdhury |
On a university corridor, a mentally
unwell man was beaten
while crowds filmed. In Cumilla’s Muradnagar, three family
members were lynched in their own home while a fourth lay critically injured. In the Ghorashal municipal area under
Palash upazila of Narsingdi, two brothers were beaten to death simply for protesting against prior
mob violence. On the highway near Chattogram, a
young motorbike rider lay crumpled for more than an hour while people streamed past,
recording live instead of rendering aid. A woman named Tasnim Siddique Jyoti
slipped into an open manhole in Gazipur's Hossain Market. People in the area tried to help
her, but they were unable to do it quickly. Instead of helping her directly,
they held their phones as they waited for emergency services. These are not
isolated horrors but snapshots of a civic breakdown. We raise phones, not
hands. We record, not rescue. This reflex is not a moral failure alone; it is
reinforced by laws and customs that punish rescuers and reward those who engage
in spectacle. A Good Samaritan law could recalibrate our instincts, shifting fear
back into compassion.
Bangladesh has no clear statutory
protection for those who stop to help. Ordinary citizens who scoop a bleeding child
into a car dread police interrogation, repeated court summonses, and months of
entanglement in criminal inquiries. Before a patient may receive complete
treatment, hospitals frequently want paperwork or a note from the police.
Individuals hesitate, minutes pass, and lives are lost as a consequence of this
chilling outcome. When the law does not protect the person who is rescuing
someone, it turns instinct into responsibility and makes apathy a decision that
is sensible. In a culture where the passage of minutes can determine the fate
of a person's life, such hesitancy is lethal.
The Good Samaritan rule originates
from an ancient biblical narrative, characterizing a "Good Samaritan" as somebody who is
compassionate and helpful to a person in distress, intervenes to aid another
person without any prior duty or anticipation of remuneration. Good Samaritan
laws have been around for a while. The expression comes from a parable in the Bible, but its current legal form has
expanded to places where civic paralysis is a problem. All fifty states in the US have passed some
kind of regulation
that protects anyone who helps in emergencies from being sued unless egregious
carelessness can be shown. In France, it is a crime not to help
in serious circumstances, while in Germany; everyone is
legally required to help when they can do so without putting themselves in
danger. The Social Action, Responsibility, and Heroism
Act 2015 in the UK protects people by making sure that courts will consider good
intentions when deciding who is responsible.
We can learn things from our
neighbours. India has gone even further by declaring it against
the law for police to harass Good Samaritans or force them to go through
unnecessary legal procedures. This change became law in 2019 when the Supreme Court's orders were made
legislation. Judicial guidelines and later changes to the law protected
rescuers from civil and criminal punishment for reasonable, good-faith actions,
while still requiring hospitals to provide rapid emergency care. Some states
even offered small awards to get people to act quickly. These actions did not
make virtue appear out of nowhere; they got rid of the things that used to make
helpers into defendants.
The lessons for Bangladesh are
clear. People act when the law recognizes and protects rescue. When the law
overlooks or punishes it, indecision becomes a habit. Civic paralysis becomes a
part of culture. Implementing analogous rights in this context would not
cultivate virtue; rather, it would eliminate the disincentives that transform
helpers into defendants. Protecting bystanders from accountability while
requiring hospitals to offer timely care without bureaucratic delay will save
lives and change what people expect from each other.
The law does not alter people's
consciences overnight, but it does set rules for how they should act. When
police treat rescuers like suspects and magistrates call them in without
thinking, people will stop helping. A Good Samaritan statute cannot
render people fearless, but it can lower the legal dangers of stepping in. That cut is important because it
brings back the instinct to help, speeds up emergency care, and shows that
institutions are not going to punish kindness. Law, policy, and culture must
operate together, but the first step in fixing our civic reflexes is to change
the law.
The Legislation must be written very
carefully. It should protect people from being sued or charged with a crime for
doing something reasonable in good faith, but hold them responsible for being
careless or doing harm on purpose. It should stop police from bothering rescuers
unless there is a good reason to believe they were involved. Hospitals must be
required to stabilise victims without having to wait for documentation. A
simple certification process should keep assistants from being investigated for
no reason. The legislation should be clear enough for regular people to grasp,
but also specific enough to help courts and officials.
It is not going to do any good to
pass legislation if it fails to go into effect. Police protocols need to be
changed so that individuals do not automatically suspect rescuers. Magistrates
should have the authority and motivation to swiftly dismiss frivolous
summonses. Hospitals need to set up triage rules that put care ahead of red tape. An impartial group should keep an eye on
enforcement, gather data, and put out frequent reports so that people can see
if the changes are saving lives.
Technology makes this problem worse,
but it also helps solve it. Smartphones have made accidents and attacks into
public spectacles, which spread rumours and sometimes start riots. But if these
gadgets are linked to emergency hotlines and certified reporting systems, they
can also assist in keeping evidence and call for aid. Platforms need to be
pushed to get rid of information that encourages violence, help with
investigations, and put verified notifications first. Responsible digital
governance, along with legal protections for rescuers, could help stop the loop
of turning pain into entertainment.
Education and civic training are
both very important. Schools and colleges should teach people how to give first
aid, respond to emergencies, and be good citizens. Local governments need to
pay for emergency hotlines and community responder networks. Recognition
programs can bring attention to activities that save lives without turning them
into products. Legal literacy programs need to make it apparent that the law
protects people who help. Over time, these actions will make intervention more
common than ignoring problems.
There will always be worries about
abuse. There will be staged rescues and opportunistic claims. The law should
only protect people from being sued for actions that are appropriate in the
situation. People should still be held responsible for severe negligence or
false allegations. Fast investigations and legal scrutiny will help separate
real help from abuse. It is not a reason to give up on reform if it is used
incorrectly from time to time. It is a reason to plan it wisely.
This is not charity but duty. Article 32 of the Constitution of Bangladesh protects the right to life
and personal liberty, stipulating that no person shall be deprived of life or
personal liberty except in accordance with the law. That guarantee is hollow if
citizens are deterred from offering help by fear of legal entanglement. The
government must pass a Good Samaritan Act that offers clear immunity, obliges
hospitals to provide care without delay, prohibits harassment of rescuers, and
funds education and oversight. Civil society, media, and professional bodies
must push for this reform.
Every day without a Good Samaritan
law is another day when silence becomes complicity and hesitation becomes
death. How many more mothers must bleed on highways while passers-by scroll?
How many more children must cry in markets while cameras roll? A nation that
cannot protect its weakest in the moment of greatest need is a nation at risk
of losing its soul. The government must act now, not tomorrow, not after
another body goes viral, to enshrine the courage to help as a legal right and
duty. To save strangers is to save ourselves. To turn away is to surrender the
very humanity that law exists to defend.