How the Internet’s Reaction to a Brutal Gang-Rape in Odisha Was as Violent as the Crime Itself

On June 15th (Sunday), at the famous Gopalpur beach in Odisha, a 20-year-old college student was allegedly brutally gang-raped. She had visited the beach with her boyfriend around 8 PM, when a group of men, who had taken pictures of the couple together, threatened to leak them online. They extorted money through several online payments, before proceeding to beat and overpower the boyfriend, tie him up, and drag the girl to an isolated house where they took turns raping her. The survivor showed immense courage by reporting the crime to the police soon after.

The National Human Rights Commission (NHRC) has taken suo motu cognizance of the incident and issued a notice to the Chief Secretary and Director General of Police, urging a detailed report on the matter within two weeks. Meanwhile, the survivor is receiving medical and psychological support.

What is most concerning about the incident is the involvement of four minor boys, who allegedly helped beat and tie up the victim’s boyfriend—the only witness to the case. According to his statement, he was made to watch as the victim was dehumanised.

This was the fourth rape case in Odisha in the span of just eight days. Another gang rape occurred four days later in Mayurbhanj, where a 31-year-old woman was attacked by four men on her walk home from the temple. The brutalities do not stop there—this is just another name added to a growing list. In only 19 days, over nine rape cases have been recorded in Odisha, including one in which police officers themselves were accused of raping a 13-year-old tribal girl.

However, victims of these brutalities are forced to fight two battles—first, the trauma and stigma in real life, and second, the digital onslaught of scrutiny, victim-blaming, and public degradation on social media.

Social media, instead of being a space of support, has often become a breeding ground for mockery, abuse, and secondary violence against survivors. It has forced suicides, enabled insults disguised as “constructive criticism,” and repeatedly blamed survivors for their own assault—pointing fingers at their clothing, the time of day, or their “character,” as judged by men sitting at a tea stall gaping at a terrified girl walking home from her coaching class.

When some Oriya influencers tried raising awareness about the incident—one of them, @heenaamirza on Instagram, even bursting into tears as she narrated the horror—she was met with floods of laughing emojis. Comments ranged from “Why was she even out at an empty beach so late at night, that too with a boy?” to “Girls should prioritize their safety first,” completely shifting the focus away from the crime and onto the survivor’s supposed recklessness. Some commenters took it further, reducing the assault to political blame games like “What else do you expect under BJP’s rule?”, or worse—expressing a desire to have assaulted her themselves or asking for videos of the assault “for personal reasons.”

These comments are not isolated. They are part of a much darker trend on social media: the glorification of dark humour. Platforms like Instagram are now rife with users who hide behind anonymous profiles to degrade, demean, and vulgarise even the most innocent posts. It is not uncommon for users to come across a harmless cat video, only to find comments describing graphic fantasies of abuse—even towards the animal.

Under Indian law, mere threats do not always constitute punishable offenses—an important protection in principle. But in practice, the unchecked rise of violent language online emboldens those who post it. What about the men who pay for violent pornography subscriptions? Those who threaten to rape women for rejecting them? The abusers who boast about being from “good families”? These are the same people leaving graphic comments under a child’s reel. These are people who mask their criminal tendencies as humour, blending into digital spaces with ease.

We live in a time where women do not just fight patriarchy in the real world—they battle a digital courtroom that is loud, hostile, and cruel. The internet has become a judge, jury, and executioner, and more often than not, it finds the survivor guilty.

Yes, commenting does not always equate to committing a crime. But every unchecked, dehumanising comment strengthens the confidence of its publisher—someone who might just become the next perpetrator.

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