Punjab, a land celebrated for its valour, agricultural prosperity and entrepreneurial spirit, is confronting a crisis that threatens to undermine its social fabric and institutional credibility. The state that sent generations of young men to defend the nation and fed millions through its hardworking farmers is increasingly struggling with the devastating consequences of drug addiction and trafficking. What makes this tragedy even more alarming is the possibility that those entrusted with enforcing the law may themselves come under suspicion.

The reported recovery of heroin worth ?40 crore from a police constable’s residence is a deeply disturbing development. The allegation must be investigated impartially, and guilt cannot be presumed before the facts are established. Yet, the case raises an unavoidable question: if the very institution responsible for dismantling drug networks is suspected of harbouring elements linked to the trade, who will protect the public from the protectors?

A police uniform must represent public trust, not provide cover for criminal activity. If any officer has abused that trust, the response must be swift, transparent and uncompromising. Equally, investigators must establish whether the alleged offence involves an individual acting alone or points to a wider network of complicity. Selective action against a junior functionary, while influential operators and their protectors remain untouched, would do little to restore public confidence.

Punjab’s drug problem, however, cannot be reduced to a single police case. Addiction has spread across villages, towns and urban neighbourhoods, devastating families and depriving young people of education, employment and the prospect of a productive future. Behind every statistic lies a human tragedy: parents watching their children succumb to dependency, elderly people losing their expected support, and households pushed towards financial and emotional ruin.

Addiction is not simply an individual failing. It is a public health challenge, a law-enforcement problem and a symptom of deeper social and economic distress. Treating every person caught in its grip as a criminal will not solve the crisis. Those who profit from trafficking must face the full force of the law, while people suffering from addiction need accessible treatment, psychological support and a realistic path towards rehabilitation.

The scale of the enforcement figures cited by the authorities makes the need for a more searching assessment particularly urgent. Punjab Police reportedly arrested 10,524 alleged drug traffickers over a ten-month period, including 153 major operators. During the same period, authorities seized 790 kilograms of heroin, 860 kilograms of opium and other narcotic substances, besides taking action against drug-linked assets valued at more than ?208 crore.

These figures indicate the scale of police operations, but they cannot, by themselves, establish that the campaign is succeeding. Indeed, the persistence of addiction and the continued availability of narcotics raise a more fundamental question: why do the supply networks remain so resilient despite repeated arrests and substantial seizures?

Arrest figures measure enforcement activity; they do not necessarily measure the effectiveness of a strategy. The real test is whether drugs are becoming harder to obtain, whether major trafficking networks are being dismantled, whether their financial channels are being disrupted and whether fewer young people are falling into addiction. Without such outcome-based assessments, a high number of arrests risks becoming a substitute for meaningful progress.

Punjab’s approximately 553-kilometre border with Pakistan adds another dimension to the crisis. The use of drones to smuggle narcotics and weapons has made border management increasingly complex. Reports of 183 drones being seized along the Punjab border so far in 2026 underline the seriousness of the challenge. Cross-border trafficking networks must be confronted through stronger surveillance, intelligence-sharing and coordinated operations.

But external threats must not become a convenient explanation for every failure within the state. Narcotics cannot sustain a domestic market without networks for distribution, finance and local supply. Investigators must therefore examine the entire chain, from cross-border operators and domestic distributors to financial intermediaries and anyone suspected of providing protection. Where evidence points to official or political complicity, the investigation must follow the facts regardless of rank or influence.

The Aam Aadmi Party government’s credibility will ultimately depend on whether its anti-drug campaign produces measurable change. Promises of a drug-free Punjab may generate political expectations, but they cannot replace sustained action. Raids, arrests and public announcements are necessary components of enforcement; they are not proof of victory.

The government must publish credible assessments of drug availability, major-network prosecutions, asset confiscations and treatment outcomes. It must also ensure that allegations against police personnel are investigated independently wherever circumstances warrant it. Accountability cannot stop at the lowest rung of the administrative ladder.

There is an equally urgent need to strengthen the public health response. De-addiction centres must be adequately staffed and accessible, treatment must be free from stigma, and families must receive guidance and support. Schools, colleges, village institutions and community organisations can help identify emerging problems before addiction becomes entrenched. Employment opportunities, vocational training and rehabilitation programmes are also essential if recovering young people are to rebuild their lives with dignity.

None of this diminishes the need for firm policing. Rather, it recognises that enforcement and rehabilitation must work together. A campaign that arrests traffickers but fails to reduce demand will remain incomplete; one that treats people struggling with addiction while allowing organised suppliers to operate with impunity will be equally ineffective.

Punjab’s drug crisis is therefore a test of governance as much as law enforcement. It demands political will, institutional integrity and a willingness to confront uncomfortable questions. If the reported heroin recovery exposes wrongdoing within the police, the authorities must establish the truth without delay. If it reveals a wider network, every link must be pursued. If the allegations prove unfounded against particular individuals, that too must be established through due process.

The state cannot afford a campaign driven by publicity rather than results. Nor can it afford to allow suspicion surrounding the police to weaken public cooperation at a time when such cooperation is indispensable.

Punjab does not need another declaration of war on drugs. It needs a campaign whose results can be independently measured, whose investigations reach the powerful as readily as the powerless, and whose treatment programmes offer young people a genuine second chance. The ultimate measure of success will not be the number of raids conducted or the value of narcotics seized, but whether families are being spared tragedy, communities are recovering confidence and the drug trade is losing its grip.

When those entrusted with protecting society come under suspicion, restoring trust becomes as important as catching offenders. Punjab’s future depends on whether its institutions can meet both challenges with honesty, courage and accountability.