Opinion When a resident beats up a security guard: Welcome to the broken republic of RWAs

It is the puny security guard who reminds residents of their indiscretion. The errant resident then sees the guard’s behaviour as overreach and a challenge to the validation they have built simply by owning a prized property

Most security guards are particularly sincere about enforcing rules. Ironically, it is the residents who break the rules of the game.

Rinku Ghosh

October 22, 2025 06:26 PM IST First published on: Oct 22, 2025 at 03:50 PM IST

Instinctive class arrogance just cannot hide behind acquired civility. The latest incident in a Greater Noida housing complex, where a woman resident slapped and abused a security guard despite protests by other residents, shows exactly why such confrontations between owners of swanky highrises and the service class have assumed a repetitive pattern. This is the new RWA republic, closed societies where its denizens set their own social and behavioural codes, outweigh the needs or perspectives of others and build their sense of brute superiority.

The service class, be it the security guard or the domestic help, is always at the heart of such conflicts for merely trying to follow a rules-based order. Most security guards, for whom such jobs are the one-way ticket out of the boondocks — the Greater Noida security guard is from Ghazipur — are particularly sincere about enforcing rules because they have a point to prove. Ironically, it is the residents who break the rules of the game even as they play vigilante in their tower groups, talking about security, parking, unlawful balcony extensions or any other policing needs. The violators are always residents who quietly park their fifth car in the neighbour’s parking bay at midnight instead of buying an extra slot, who want to sneak in carpenters and masons on a Sunday despite a construction ban, who want to enter through the exit gate and vice versa and who won’t lower their house party decibels even after midnight.

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It is the puny security guard who reminds them of their indiscretion, who, in a split second, becomes bigger than the violators by virtue of being the moral authority and law enforcer. The errant resident then sees the guard’s behaviour as overreach and a challenge to the validation they have built simply by owning a prized property in a condominium. The hitback, therefore, is othering the man who does his rightful job but lacks privilege. Violence is a tool to glower him into submission and remind him why he needs to keep the job or risk going back to the village he came back from. This is the traditional feudal tool, of reminding the guard his aukat, or where he comes from, never mind that dignity of every kind of labour is the gold standard of implementing democratic social systems.

Several such cases are unreported simply because the guard with family responsibilities chooses to conform instead of fighting back. Even when they complain and cases are filed, most end up being a police-mediated apology, compromise or a compensatory buyout. The security guard goes back to his post, the resident continues his free run. Women domestic helpers have it worse, blamed for every missing object which is found subsequently, coerced into erratic work hours and banned from sharing the lifts with their “madams” whose lives they cradle daily, from the kitchen to the hair curl.

Our island towers in metros and even aspirant towns across India are filled with new-age kulaks. The nomenclature refers to former peasants in the Russian Empire who became landowners and credit-loaners after serfdom was abolished in 1861. Gradually, they became class enemies of poorer peasants. In fact, Vladimir Lenin, founder of the Communist Party in Russia, described them as “bloodsuckers, vampires, plunderers of the people and profiteers, who fatten themselves during famines.” While these words may have extreme connotations today and may even be contested, fact is the kulak mentality perceives people who occupy a low social or economic status as “less than human”.

The really problematic bit about power play is that human society loves the see-saw, not the fulcrum. Validation doesn’t come from milestones or achievements, from competitive duels with peers but from the fear and insecurity of underlings. Dehumanisation has been used throughout history by dominant groups to justify acts of exploitation, violence and oppression against the lesser privileged. It is also a tool for amassing herd mentality where people look to coalesce with their own kind and establish a group identity while distrusting, mistreating or outing others who aren’t like them.

A study found that possessing power without status can lead to demeaning behaviours, as people feel a need to prove their dominance.

Equalisation is antithetical in societies with high economic inequality. In India, that chasm is at its widest. According to a 2024 World Inequality Database study, the richest 10 per cent of Indians received nearly 60 per cent of the national income in 2022-23, while the bottom 50 per cent received only about 15 per cent. Another analysis says the top one per cent holds about 40 per cent of the total wealth, with the bottom 50 per cent owning a mere three per cent. While the number of billionaires has increased, reports from sources like the UNDP and Oxfam show that tens of millions of people have fallen below the poverty line or have seen minimal wealth growth. The elite, therefore, believe that a racist hierarchy can preserve their turf. Even if it is one tower in a society.

rinku.ghosh@expressindia.com