Karnataka has taken an important legal step.
Its new law recognises that adults must be free to choose whom they marry, without threats, harassment, social boycott, coercion or violence carried out in the name of caste, culture, custom, tradition or so-called honour. The Bill expressly covers acts committed because someone is seen to have crossed caste, social or traditional expectations. (prsindia.org)
That matters.
But legislation alone will not save victims.
A law can punish a killing. It can restrain a perpetrator. It can create courts, penalties and procedures. What it cannot do on its own is reach the frightened girl before she is removed from school, the young man threatened because of caste, or the couple who know that the greatest danger may come not from strangers, but from their own families.
That is the lesson the United Kingdom offers.
Not a perfect lesson. Not a superior one. A warning.
In the UK, forced marriage is illegal. Forced Marriage Protection Orders can protect people at risk. Each order can be tailored to the victim’s circumstances. It may require someone to hand over a passport, reveal where a person is, or stop particular conduct. In an emergency, an order can be made immediately. Breach of an order can lead to imprisonment. (gov.uk)
These protections matter.
Yet the existence of law has not ended dishonour abuse.
The Crown Prosecution Service records so-called honour crime by identifying existing offences, including threatening behaviour, violence or abuse, whether psychological, physical, sexual, financial or emotional. Cases may be prosecuted as assault, harassment, kidnap, rape, threats to kill, murder or other offences, depending on the facts. (cps.gov.uk)
That matters because dishonour abuse rarely begins with one dramatic act.
It often begins quietly.
A missed lesson. A confiscated phone. A family meeting. A threat about shame. A passport hidden. A girl told she is selfish. A boy told he has dishonoured the family. A couple warned that love has consequences.
By the time the police are called, fear may already have done its work.
I do not like the phrase “honour-based violence”.
There is no honour in coercion. There is no honour in fear. There is no honour in forcing a young person to choose between safety and family loyalty.
That is why I use the term dishonour abuse.
The shame belongs with the person who controls, threatens or harms. It does not belong with the victim.
This is not a small linguistic point. Language shapes policy. If governments, courts, professionals and communities repeat the perpetrator’s language, they risk softening the reality.
This is abuse. It is control. It is violence. In some cases, it is murder.
Karnataka’s law is important because it recognises that marriage choice can become a point of lethal danger.
The Karnataka Freedom of Choice in Marriage and Prevention and Prohibition of Crimes in the Name of Honour and Tradition Bill, 2026, is framed around acts committed in the name of caste, culture, custom, tradition or so-called honour. It recognises that violence and coercion may follow when a person is said to have crossed cultural, caste, social or traditional norms. (prsindia.org)
That breadth matters.
It recognises that these crimes are not only about marriage. They are about power. They are about who is allowed to choose, who is expected to obey, and whose life is treated as belonging to the family or community.
But the test of any such law is not the strength of its language.
The test is whether it reaches people before violence happens.
Safe houses must be genuinely safe. Helplines must be trusted. Police must be trained. Schools and colleges must know the warning signs. Officials must act without prejudice. Courts must be able to intervene quickly. Young people must know where to go before a threat becomes a death sentence.
Prosecution comes after harm. Prevention must come before it.
That is where schools, charities, helplines, trained professionals and trusted community routes become essential. They are not soft extras. They are the bridge between legal rights and real safety.
Through Freedom Charity, I have seen why prevention must begin long before a case reaches the police or courts.
Children need the words to name abuse before they can ask for help. Professionals need the confidence to recognise warning signs. Families and communities need to understand that coercion is not culture, and violence is not tradition.
That is why education matters.
Freedom Charity’s PSHE resources on forced marriage and FGM have been produced in liaison with the PSHE Association and include accredited lesson plans, teachers’ notes and supporting resources. They help schools teach these subjects as part of safeguarding and child protection. (freedomcharity.org.uk)
But It’s Not Fair helps young people understand forced marriage, coercion, control, consent and how to seek help safely. (freedomcharity.org.uk)
Cut Flowers helps young people learn about female genital mutilation.
Not In My Name engages boys and young men, because prevention cannot only be placed on girls.
The Red Triangle badge gives visible public solidarity against FGM.
Freedom Charity’s app, helpline, school work and professional training sit within the same prevention model.
This is not publicity.
It is safeguarding.
More than 100,000 books have been donated to children, schools, professionals and libraries. That matters because silence protects perpetrators. Education gives children language, confidence and routes to safety.
Laws can punish abuse after it happens. Prevention begins much earlier, in classrooms, families and communities where children learn whether control, fear and coercion are acceptable or wrong.
The UK experience offers both lessons and warnings.
First, specialist protection orders matter. Forced Marriage Protection Orders can protect someone from being forced into marriage or from further harm after a forced marriage has taken place. Karnataka’s protection mechanisms will be strongest if they can act quickly, practically and preventively.
Second, multi-agency working is essential. Police, schools, social workers, health professionals, courts, helplines and specialist charities must not work in isolation. UK statutory guidance recognises that forced marriage cases need a coordinated response from agencies, not isolated action. (gov.uk)
Victims rarely disclose everything at once.
One professional may notice absence from school. Another may hear anxiety about travel. Another may see fear, injury, withdrawal or sudden control by relatives.
Systems save lives when they join those signs together.
Third, definitions matter. If coercion, family pressure, community involvement, psychological abuse and consent are not understood clearly, victims may struggle to prove what is happening.
Not all coercion looks like physical violence.
Sometimes it is surveillance, emotional blackmail, financial control, threats of exile, forced travel or the constant reminder that disobedience will bring shame.
Fourth, boys and men must be part of prevention. Girls are often told how to stay safe. Boys must also be taught that control is not love, domination is not respect, and family honour can never justify abuse.
Finally, legal reform must not become a substitute for cultural change.
A statute can set a standard. It cannot, by itself, change the beliefs that allow abuse to be excused.
The law can open the door to safety. Education helps a victim know that the door exists.
Karnataka’s law matters because it confronts a brutal truth: marriage choice can become dangerous when family reputation, caste, custom or community pressure are treated as more important than the individual.
But if the law is to save lives, implementation will matter more than symbolism.
Safe houses must be more than buildings.
Helplines must be more than phone numbers.
Training must be more than a one-off session.
Police must be able to recognise risk before a killing occurs.
Schools must understand that absence, fear, sudden withdrawal, pressure to travel, talk of shame, or unexplained family control may be safeguarding indicators.
Colleges must know that older students can still be at risk.
Officials must be brave enough to act when families, local pressure or caste prejudice try to minimise the danger.
Protection must also reflect the full reality of people’s lives. Victims may be women, men, young people, LGBTQ+ people, people in intercaste relationships, interfaith relationships or relationships their families reject for other reasons. A law that protects only some forms of love risks leaving others exposed.
A victim should not have to prove they are nearly dead before they are believed.
The UK has learned, sometimes painfully, that legislation is only one part of safeguarding.
Shafilea Ahmed’s murder remains one of the most painful reminders of what can happen when warning signs are missed and the voices of young women are not properly heard.
Karnataka now has an opportunity to go further.
It can make law work with education.
It can connect courts with schools.
It can bring trained professionals together with specialist organisations.
It can place prevention at the centre, not as an afterthought.
That is how lives are saved.
Not by law alone.
By law, education, courage, trusted support and the refusal to let culture be used as a cover for abuse.
The true test of Karnataka’s law will not be how strongly it condemns dishonour abuse after a killing. It will be whether it helps a child, a woman, a young man or a frightened couple reach safety before violence becomes inevitable.
Aneeta Prem MBE is a human rights campaigner, author and founder of Freedom Charity. Her work has focused on forced marriage, female genital mutilation, dishonour abuse, safeguarding, education and legal reform.
Karnataka Bill text via PRS India. (prsindia.org)
UK Government guidance on forced marriage and Forced Marriage Protection Orders. (gov.uk)
Crown Prosecution Service guidance on honour-based abuse and forced marriage. (cps.gov.uk)
Freedom Charity PSHE educational resources. (freedomcharity.org.uk)
But It’s Not Fair by Aneeta Prem. (freedomcharity.org.uk)
Aneeta Prem . 20 May 2026
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