The editorial we didn’t see on Emergency@50: Authoritarianism with anaesthesia in 2025

Broken News

Published in Newslaundry on June 26, 2025

 

Anniversaries are a ritual in India. This week, it has been interesting to watch how the 50th anniversary of the Emergency declared by Indira Gandhi at midnight on June 25, 1975, is being observed. 

 

There are several people in the governing party, the Bharatiya Janata Party who opposed the emergency. And in the opposition is the Congress Party, held responsible for the Emergency. As a result, the occasion has been reduced to one of the BJP finding more ways to slam the Congress by pitching the ‘Samvidhan Hatya Diwas’ to counter the opposition’s campaign to uphold the Constitution. This is politics as usual. 

 

But how does all this rhetoric help us to understand what the Emergency was all about, what we should learn from it, and whether what’s happening in India today reflects a difference or a similarity to the events that unfolded 50 years ago? 

I ask this as someone who was a journalist at that time, working with Himmat Weekly, a news magazine founded by Rajmohan Gandhi. Hence, I found this statement of Union Home Minister Amit Shah, while speaking about that period in our history, particularly ironic: “Just imagine the moment you became subjects of a tyrant within a day. You were a journalist or a student but suddenly became a danger to the country.”

Perhaps the selective amnesia that afflicts most politicians made him forget people like Umar Khalid, a student leader who questioned the Modi government’s intent in bringing in the Citizenship Amendment Act. Khalid was arrested in 2020 and continues to languish in jail without trial, without bail, for more than six years. He must have wondered how he suddenly became a danger to the country. A country where the government had not declared an internal Emergency.

Or Siddique Kappan, the Delhi correspondent of a Malayalam news portal who was arrested while on his way to report the rape of a Dalit woman in Hathras in October 2020. He was incarcerated for over two years, is out of bail, but still has the cases hanging over his head.

Or the Kashmiri journalists who have been in and out of jail. Why does this government consider them a danger to the country? Read this report in Kashmir Times on these journalists, their battle for bail and the multiple cases they have had to fight. How can this happen if the people who fought the emergency opposed precisely this kind of arbitrary action at that time?

These are the questions we should be asking on the anniversary of the Emergency. Though there is little evidence of them being asked except editorially in Indian Express which has run an extensive series on the Emergency.

Even there, it is political scientist Suhas Palshikar who raises several pertinent questions in his edit page article on June 25. He emphasises that the anniversary should be a time of introspection and asks whether the “Emergency template” has really been discarded. For instance, like the “foreign hand” that Indira Gandhi saw lurking everywhere, today there is the American billionaire George Soros, and if you protest you are labelled anti-national or an urban Naxal. Palshikar concludes: “The essence of the Emergency is being normalised in India’s current moment.”

To understand this better, just look at the state of the Indian media. During the Emergency, censorship was imposed. Everyone was required to check if what was published adhered to “guidelines” issued by the government that kept changing as the Emergency progressed. If the authorities thought you had violated them, your publisher could be fined or jailed, your printing press could be sealed, and you would find it difficult to continue.

As has been recorded in several books and articles over the years, mainstream print media, and there was only print in those days, conformed and fell in line. Indian Express did resist, as recounted in this piece by Coomi Kapoor who was working with it as a reporter at that time. In her first-person account, Kapoor writes about the way the government used all avenues of pressure, including the income tax department, trying to seize the printing press, and denying advertisements from the government and public sector companies to bring the paper in line.

If all this sounds familiar, it is the template this government has followed in the last decade to get the media to conform and relay the official narrative without asking too many questions.

During the Emergency, the Indian Express could withstand such pressure for some time because of its feisty owner Ramnath Goenka and because it had the financial ability to withstand it. 

What is not acknowledged adequately is the role played by many smaller publications, in English and in the regional languages, that also tried to resist censorship. They did not have the deep pockets of mainstream media houses like the Express group. And as a result, many of them had to fold up. 

 

Himmat Weekly, for instance, where I worked, also ran blank editorials after the Emergency was declared. It also tried to bypass censorship by deciding that we did not have to submit a copy to the censor as the government had declared “guidelines”. We thought we were too small and inconsequential to attract the wrath of the government. But in doing so, we were clearly delusional as in an authoritarian regime, even small pinpricks of opposition or questioning will not be tolerated.

Himmat survived the Emergency, just about. It was deprived of advertising; it had fines and notices slapped on it for “violations” of censorship guidelines that seem ridiculous today (such as using a quotation from Mahatma Gandhi about freedom), and had to hunt for a printer who would risk printing the magazine.

I have recounted the Himmat story over the years several times as illustrative of what happened to many other small publications (read here, here and here). And to point out that the story of resistance to authoritarianism is not just about prominent politicians and big media, but also of small independent publications and ordinary people. This is a history that sometimes goes unrecorded and unacknowledged.

For instance, few know about A D Gorwala, a retired civil servant who brought out a small journal named Opinion. When Emergency was declared, he refused to submit to censorship and continued till he was ordered to shut down. In his last issue, he wrote:

“The current Indira regime, founded on June 26, 1975, was born through lies, nurtured through lies, and flourished by lies. The essential ingredient of its being is the lie. Consequently, to have a truth-loving, straight thinking journal to examine it week after week and point out its falsehoods becomes intolerable to it.” 

Others like Minoo Masani’s Freedom First, or Janata Weekly, whose editor G G Parikh is now 100 years old and still as feisty as ever, also resisted. And there were many others across India.

The reason we need to heed such struggles is to understand what we are witnessing today. 

Take the media. Mainstream media has mostly fallen in line. The resisters are the small independent YouTube channels run by journalists who once worked in mainstream, or digital news platforms that perform the kind of “journalism of courage” that we so sorely need today. 

As Palshikar points out, aspects of the Emergency have been normalised. It has happened gradually in a way that most Indians seem to have been anesthetised. We have accepted that governments have a right to suppress dissent, to jail opponents, to put pressure on the media to conform, and to use all the power it has in its hands to ensure that its actions are not challenged.  

And yet, 50 years after the Emergency, we are lamenting that Indira Gandhi did precisely this.  

From Trump’s ceasefire claim to Modi’s G-7 optics, media didn’t ask the right questions

 Broken News

Published in Newslaundry on June 19, 2025

Link: https://www.newslaundry.com/2025/06/19/from-trumps-ceasefire-claim-to-modis-g-7-optics-media-didnt-ask-the-right-questions

Did he, or didn’t he? That is a question that remains unanswered. US President Donald Trump continues to claim that he stopped the clash between India and Pakistan after India launched Operation Sindoor in May. At the same time, we are told officially that Prime Minister Narendra Modi, in a telephone conversation with Trump, told him in no uncertain terms that India will never accept mediation and that the “pause” between the two countries was agreed upon bilaterally.  

The Indian media’s reporting of this purported telephone conversation between Modi and Trump, soon after the latter left the G 7 summit in Canada, consisted of an almost verbatim reproduction of the external affairs ministry’s report on it. Furthermore, the claim that Trump had “stepped back” from his repeated claims that he was responsible for the end of hostilities between India and Pakistan was based on a statement Trump made after he met Pakistani Field Marshal Asim Munir. In it he didn’t emphasise his own role. But could this be credited to his conversation with Modi? Or was he merely being diplomatic?  

Meanwhile, reports continue to appear quoting Trump saying much the same as he had stated earlier, claiming he was responsible for the “ceasefire” between India and Pakistan. 

Another example of questions left unanswered in the coverage of foreign affairs is the recently concluded G-7 summit. It was routinely reported until Modi, who was invited rather late in the day, made it to Canada. By then, Trump had already left.  There were no official photo-op as in previous summits. So why did the Indian PM, the leader of the world’s most populous nation, feel he had to accept being a sideshow in this summit? How did India benefit? Such questions, even if they were asked, were not part of the reportage.

The Hindu was an exception as it raised some questions in its editorial. Calling it a “Failed summit”, it concluded that “To have the Prime Minister travel more that 11,000 kilometres to address one outreach session of a fractious summit may not be the most optimal use of India’s resources.” 

This is only one of the many examples of how even the print media, which still occasionally shows some spunk by asking questions, today looks and reads almost the same across publications when it comes to any foreign policy issue.

In any case, in the larger scheme of things, especially at a time when we are teetering on the verge of a major conflagration in West Asia if the US decides to enter the ongoing war between Israel and Iran, perhaps such minutiae about who said what to whom don’t really matter. Foreign affairs have rarely excited readers except when our immediate neighbours are involved. 

But because all this has been front page news, it is worth considering what the reporting tells us about the coverage of foreign affairs in the print media and the uniformity in the style and substance of it.

This virtual uniformity brings back memories of the Emergency, declared 50 years ago by Indira Gandhi, on June 25, 1975. Several newspapers are carrying articles about it, a useful education for an entire generation that knows practically nothing about it. And the BJP has decided to make political capital out of the occasion by announcing that it will hold marches and meetings on what will be called “Samvidhan Hatya Divas”. Ironical, given the many attacks on the Constitution we have witnessed in the last decade since this party came to power at the Centre and in several states.

The big difference in the last 50 years is the change in what constitutes the media.  In those days it was “press” or print media. Television and radio were government controlled.

Today, not only have print publications proliferated, but the media scene is crowded with hundreds of television channels, social media, digital news platforms and video streaming platforms. Although print has not lost its relevance as precipitously as it has in a country like the US, there is a noticeable decline as the younger generation rarely turn to a newspaper as the main source of news.

In many ways, this diversification is a good thing. It makes the job of an authoritarian regime even more difficult when it wants to control access to information. 

Indira Gandhi had a relatively easy time in 1975. Yet even then, there was an underground network through which news circulated. It was unorganised, risky and with a limited reach. Still, word did get around and once censorship was lifted in the run-up to the 1977 general elections, it was evident that people already knew about the arrests of opposition leaders, the forced sterilisation campaigns in north India, the ruthless slum demolitions in cities like Mumbai and Delhi and the “encounter” killings of people suspected of being Naxalites. None of these violations had been reported in the media.

I personally knew people who would painstakingly type out stories that had appeared in Western media on such human rights violations, make cyclostyled copies, and then post them in different parts of a city so that the source could not be traced. News also travelled through word of mouth at a time when there was nothing resembling social media. So even during such a time of oppression, when after an initial fight, the mainstream press fell in line, and most of the smaller, independent publications that tried to defy censorship were unable to survive, the government failed to clamp down completely on the circulation of news. 

Today, of course, we have a different media environment. Officially, there is no censorship. Yet, Big Media in India, including television and print, mostly toe the government line barring an occasional report or investigative story that suggests that the official narrative on any issue, foreign affairs or developmental programmes is not entirely true.

Also, despite its efforts, the Modi government has not succeeded in controlling the counter narrative on independent digital channels. Ask any ordinary person you meet – a taxi driver, a migrant worker, a domestic help. Ask them where they get their news from. Rarely will you find someone who says they read newspapers. The majority of those even interested in news, and this interest is not universal, say they access it through channels on YouTube. And some of the most popular are those that are openly critical of this government such as Ravish Kumar, Abhisar Sharma, Punya Prasun Bajpai and Deepak Sharma. 

If there is any lesson to be learned on this 50th anniversary of the Emergency, it is this. 

While controlling a diverse media is more difficult, every government with an authoritarian streak will work out ways to control it. And perhaps the sameness of coverage that we already witness on some issues in mainstream media suggests that aspects of that control are already working. 

There is no guarantee that more avenues for control of media will not be devised.  So, diversity of media cannot permanently stall a determined government’s efforts to stifle the free flow of information. In fact, the experience of the Emergency has taught us that there is no room for complacency if you believe that a free media is essential for the survival of a democracy. 

Full volume on Op Sindoor, silence on the stateless

 Broken News

Published in Newslaundry on June 5, 2025

Link: https://www.newslaundry.com/2025/06/05/full-volume-on-op-sindoor-silence-on-the-stateless

While the Indian mainstream media remained obsessed about Operation Sindoor and reported uncritically even as the Prime Minister and members of his party made political capital from the recent Indo-Pak armed clash, a quiet, more insidious episode unfolded, largely unnoticed. 

The first to draw attention to it wasMaktoob Media, a digital news platform based in Kerala. Two days after the guns fell silent on the borders of India and Pakistan, it claimed on May 12 that around 40 Rohingya, who were registered with the UN High Commissioner for Refugees India and recognised as stateless, were literally pushed off a naval boat into the sea near the coast of Myanmar. The Rohingya, as is well-known, fled Myanmar in 2017 to escape persecution by its military junta.

The report alleged that, on May 8, even as the Solicitor General was assuring the Supreme Court that deportations would follow established procedures and the law, these men and women were first summoned to a police station, then flown to Port Blair in the Andamans and then blind-folded, shackled and put on a naval boat before being pushed into the sea. The group included elderly men, women and children, who had to allegedly swim ashore to safety. 

This was followed up by a story in Scroll that contained more details.

Mainstream media only woke up when Tom Andrews, UN special rapporteur on human rights in Myanmar, said: “The idea that Rohingya refugees have been cast into the sea from naval vessels is nothing short of outrageous. I am seeking further information and testimony regarding these developments and implore the Indian government to provide a full accounting of what happened.” 

The UN statement drew the attention of the international media with reports appearing in New York Times, South China Morning Post and Straits Times.

Since early May, there has been little by way of follow-up to this story or even comment on this except, predictably, in independent digital platforms. The most searing comment was this article by Harsh Mander in Scroll. He asks how India has become “a place in which exceptional cruelty, prejudice and a casual defiance of constitutional obligations and customary international law have become official state policy”.

Meanwhile, equally insidious and inhuman is the process that continues in Assam of “pushing back” suspected Bangladeshi nationals. 

Once again, as in the case of the Rohingya, the early reports appeared in independent digital platforms. The stories were heart-breaking. Many of those literally pushed back across the India-Bangladesh border were married women, who had not been able to prove their citizenship.

Read the stories by Rokibuz Zaman in Scroll: Of a teacher picked up and pushed out, of two women, Shona Bhanu and Begum, who were amongst the people pushed out only to be brought back because they are Indian citizens. 

These stories remind us again what was known ever since the Assam government undertook the process of the National Register of Citizens and set up quasi-judicial Foreigners’ Tribunals in 2019. Over time, lakhs of people have been declared “foreigners” by these tribunals leaving them no option but to spend time and money hiring lawyers and filing cases in higher courts. 

Also, as was evident almost from the start, the process has disproportionately affected the poor and unlettered, many of them married women. Read this article by Abhishek Saha, who followed the story of one woman, Manowara Bewa. Declared “illegal” by a tribunal in 2016, detained, sent to a detention centre and finally released on bail in 2019, she was picked by the police on May 24, and “pushed back” into Bangladesh despite her pending appeal in the Supreme Court.

In 2019, at the height of the NRC process, and soon after the tribunals were set up, the media did report on what was going on. Even then, it was evident that the process was unlikely to be fair to those who do not have sufficient documents, a reality facing millions of poor people in this country.

I saw this when I visited Assam in 2019. The sight of thousands of men and women, clutching plastic bags full of documents that they wanted to show lawyers who had offered to help is one that I cannot forget. Amongst them were many women who were completely bewildered and did not understand what was happening.

Even then, those who were following the issue could see the arbitrary way in which cases were decided in the tribunals. People travelled long distances to have their cases heard only to find that the date of the hearing had changed. Those who could not make it for a hearing often found that the tribunal had made a ruling ex parte. No outsiders, including journalists were permitted to sit through proceedings as they can in a regular court. This opacity made the process even more problematic. 

Today, more than five years after the renewed thrust to detect and deport suspected Bangladeshis took off in Assam, using Operation Sindoor as an excuse to prevent “infiltration”, the Assam government has stepped up its efforts by pushing out people “declared foreigner” by the tribunals despite their pending cases in other courts. As the article by Saha reminds us, “declared foreigners” are not “individuals who have been apprehended at India’s borders, attempting to enter the country without documentation on the sly. They are typically long-term residents with families and properties in Assam, who assert that they are Indian citizens.”

And he rightfully states: “The humanitarian crisis in Assam’s citizenship imbroglio begins here – neither India nor Bangladesh acknowledges the ‘declared foreigners’ as their own.”

While this story has failed to catch the interest of much of mainstream media, the one story that found prominent coverage was, not surprisingly, the official version of what happened last month. In response to reports about people being pushed back into Bangladesh, these reports quoted the Border Security Force saying they had successfully foiled “infiltration” from Bangladesh. Or this one that reports that 2000 “illegal immigrants” have been pushed back since Operation Sindoor and that officials claim some left voluntarily.

The story will not end today or tomorrow.  It is incumbent on the media to follow and report it, even if the place where the actual drama is taking place is the northeastern corner of India. 

For what this process shows us is how it becomes convenient for governments to pick on the weakest to show how decisive and strong they are. But physically throwing people off a boat or pushing a woman with an eight-month-old child across a physical border, leaving her and others standing through the night in a rice field, and for her family to not be told where she has disappeared, does not indicate a strong government. It only confirms one that it is indifferent to the plight of the most vulnerable.

The Ali Khan Mahmudabad case is free speech under trial

 Broken News

Published in Newslaundry on May 22, 2025

Link: https://www.newslaundry.com/2025/05/22/the-ali-khan-mahmudabad-case-is-free-speech-under-trial

The arrest and subsequent release on interim bail of Ashoka University professor Ali Khan Mahmudabad, and the discussions in and out of court that have followed, ought to concern journalists, or rather those who believe that in a democracy, journalists should question the powerful. 

Prof Khan was arrested by the Haryana police in the early hours of May 18 based on two complaints relating to his posts on Facebook a week earlier.  Both complaints were registered in the same police station in Haryana, close to the private university where he heads the department of political science. One was by a member of the youth wing of the BJP, the other by the head of the Haryana Commission for Women.

After two days in police custody, and after the lower court sent him to judicial custody, the Supreme Court granted Khan interim bail on May 21.

In the immediate aftermath of the arrest, several national English language newspapers made strong editorial comments against the arrest and the serious nature of the charges brought against Prof Khan, including sedition.

As the speed with which events occurred around his arrest, readers might have overlooked these editorials (which in any case are read by a small number). But for the record, they are worth re-reading, given what followed in the subsequent days.

The Indian Express, in its editorial headlined, “Amid government’s calls for unity, Ali Khan Mahmudabad’s arrest sends a chilling message”, went on to state that fear cannot enforce unity in an open democracy. It argued that the Prime Minister’s call for unity and the strategy to send all-party delegations to present India’s case abroad after Operation Sindoor did not sit well with such actions. 

Deccan Herald was more direct. It wrote that Khan’s arrest “is the State’s strike against the expression of a citizen’s right and it exposes the police and the government which acted against him as partisan, and even communal. It is almost certain that Mahmudabad’s name was the problem here and that shows.” The Times of India suggested that “all thinking Indians must also ask why a professor who praised, logically and cohesively, GOI’s military response to Pahalgam found himself behind bars.”

And The Hindu suggested that the Supreme Court “must reiterate the importance of the freedom of expression and come down heavily on law enforcement agencies that misuse powers to slap serious charges related to sedition, on frivolous grounds.”

We know from the proceedings in the Supreme Court on May 21 in response to Ali Khan’s bail application that nothing even vaguely resembling this has happened. In fact, it is quite the opposite.

Given some of the remarks made by Justice Surya Kant, it appears that he has a different view of such rights. He was quoted as saying “everybody talks about rights…as if the country for the last 75 years was distributing rights.” Nor has the court ticked off the Haryana police for the alacrity with which it responded to the two FIRs.

In fact, just three years ago, in the case of the bail application by journalist Mohammed Zubair of the fact-checking platform AltNews, the Supreme Court had laid down that “Arrest is not meant to be and must not be used as a punitive tool because it results in one of the gravest possible consequences emanating from criminal law: the loss of personal liberty.” It also said, “Individuals must not be punished solely on the basis of allegations, and without a fair trial...when the power to arrest is exercised without application of mind and without due regard to the law, it amounts to an abuse of power.”  

Instead, in this case, instead of criticising the police for arresting a person “solely on the basis of allegations”, the court has directed the Haryana police to set up a Special Investigative Team “to holistically understand the complexity of the phraseology employed and for proper appreciation of some of the expressions used in these two online posts.”  This task has been given to police officers. How they are supposed to “understand the complexity” of posts that are written in reasonably simple English remains a puzzle. 

More alarming than leaving a team of the police to decide whether the charges against Khan hold is the last part of the order which states: “It is made clear that one of the objects of granting interim bail is to facilitate the ongoing investigation. If the SIT/Investigating Agency finds any other incriminating material against the petitioner, it shall be at liberty to place it on record and seek modification of the interim order.”

In other words, there is more to come in this unravelling drama.

Interestingly, in Zubair’s case, the UP government had argued that Zubair should be restrained from tweeting. The SC ruled against the request, stating, “The imposition of such a condition would be tantamount to a gag order... (which) have a chilling effect on the freedom of speech.”

In Khan’s case, exactly the opposite has happened. The court has restrained him from posting anything on the case, or “any opinion in relation to the terrorist attack on Indian soil or the counter response given by our armed forces.”

Khan’s case is one more nail in the coffin of the limits placed today on freedom of expression by this government.  

In his article in Frontline on the Khan case, Saurav Das writes about the “judicial choking of free thought”. Analysing the Supreme Court’s interim bail order in the case, Das doesn’t mince words in his critique. He writes:

“Mahmudabad’s case is a microcosm of sorts. It is a perfect example of how you make a nation of intellectually dead citizens, where critical inquiry is replaced by rote repetition and progressive voices are muzzled to make space for conformist, mediocre opinions. This is how a society dies, where the proliferation of free thought is choked, through a slow, judicially sanctioned suffocation of intellectual life.”

Perhaps free thought has already been choked, if you look at Indian mainstream media, especially TV news. There is precious little that is even mildly critical of recent government actions, even in our newspapers. Or questions, for instance, about how the all-party delegations, which have set out to foreign lands to explain the Indian government’s position on terror and Operation Sindoor, will explain the same government’s actions against minorities, especially Muslims, in India. According to to this piece in Article-14 by Kunal Purohit, there have been 113 incidents of “anti-Muslim hate crimes and hate speeches” since the April 22 terror attack in Pahalgam. 

Despite this, every now and then, even TV news can spring surprises. Such as this interview by Preeti Chowdhury on India Today TV with Renu Bhatia, the chairperson of the Haryana Commission for Women who filed one of the cases against Ali Khan.  Chowdhury did what journalists are supposed to do. She firmly and politely asked Bhatia what part of Khan’s post did she think insulted the women in uniform who appeared at the briefings during Operation Sindoor alongside the External Affairs Secretary. Do watch Bhatia’s effort at explaining what cannot be explained. 

India’s fog of war: Print media treads cautiously, TV media loses the plot

Broken News

Published in Newslaundry on May 9, 2025

Link: https://www.newslaundry.com/2025/05/09/indias-fog-of-war-print-media-treads-cautiously-tv-media-loses-the-plot

Illustration of an anchor shouting through a television while viewers cower on their couch. |Manjul

Subscribe nowIndia today is enveloped in a fog, the fog of war. It is so thick that we can neither see nor hear what is going on. We must wait patiently for someone in “authority” to tell us what is happening.

India today is enveloped in a fog, the fog of war. It is so thick that we can neither see nor hear what is going on. We must wait patiently for someone in “authority” to tell us what is happening.

Ever since the launch of Operation Sindoor on the night of May 6-7, when Indian armed forces launched nine precision strikes that targeted what were suspected to be terror outfits in Pakistan, Indian media – or at least some sections of it – has gone ballistic.

As for Indian TV news channels (which gave up on doing any kind of serious journalism years ago), they had already launched their own “operation” against Pakistan without waiting for the Indian government to act. Indeed, within days of the terror attack in Pahalgam where 26 people were killed, TV anchors were not just demanding war, but even demonstrating how it ought to be conducted. (It’s worthwhile, even now, to watch this episode of TV Newsance by Manisha Pande to get a sense of the madness on television screens.)

The official start of the clash between India and Pakistan has now given these channels additional ammunition and the madness has reached a higher pitch. Disinformation, misinformation, drama and ear-splitting decibel levels are par for the course. If you watch Indian TV, you might say this is normal. But is it, when the country is virtually at war with its neighbour, when the government is putting out all kinds of advisories about misinformation and fake news? 

Why is it that no such advisory has been directed at these channels, not even a gentle rebuke, when the government has the power under existing laws to do so? Is it because the government finds it convenient to let them rant in contrast to its official briefings that are restrained and low-key? Is it important for this government to keep up the ultra-nationalist fervour without seeming to be doing so directly? These are questions that we must ask, even if the mere act of asking questions now is considered “anti-national”. 

On the day after Operation Sindoor, barring headlines and display, the news coverage in all major newspapers was almost identical. What was missing was the story of the price being paid by the Kashmiris living near the Line of Control. An exception was the Indian Express, which had a story on its front page giving the names and ages of each one of those killed in the firing across the border.  

But the press could have given a human face to this war by asking why, if the government knew that it was mounting this operation, was there inadequate effort to make sure the most vulnerable, the people living on the border, had shelters, or somewhere else where they could go? 

And why should the Indian media not ask these questions, as Kashmir Times has done? Despite its constraints, Kashmir Times has been putting out daily reports on the lives of the Kashmiris affected along the Line of Control. If you visit some of the villages in Uri district, you can see the other side clearly, across a deep gorge with the Neelam River that divides the two sides of Kashmir. People on both sides face cross-border firing whenever there’s a problem between our two countries. Yet, so often, their stories are never told, or only in passing. The real price of war is paid by such ordinary people.

Apart from not reporting on the casualties along the LoC, the print media is also not asking legitimate questions. For instance, when the defence minister states that 100 terrorists have been killed in Operation Sindoor, we need to know who they are, where they were, and whether they were at any of the nine sites that were targeted in Pakistan. Yet so far, such a question has not been asked, and it is highly unlikely if it ever will be. 

There are other questions, including Pakistan’s claims on Indian fighter jets, and photographs of alleged debris. So far, there has been no official response.

Clearly, print media has decided to tread cautiously because they know that unlike TV channels, this government is not going to be charitable towards them if they report without official confirmation. Any speculation, or source-based story is likely to be regarded as antagonistic.

And with the Indian government’s action of blocking the sites of even established Pakistan media such as Dawn or GeoNews, Indian journalists have to depend on international media houses like the BBC or news agencies like Reuters to get a sense of what is being said and reported on the other side. Surely, this is something that the media in India ought to be able to access. 

Clearly, print media has decided to tread cautiously because they know that unlike TV channels, this government is not going to be charitable towards them if they report without official confirmation. Any speculation, or source-based story is likely to be regarded as antagonistic.

Also, while Indian TV news continues unchecked with its dangerous theatrics, 8,000 accounts on the social media platform X have been blocked on the request of the Indian government. Ironically, X’s own Global Government Affairs account which reported that these accounts had been blocked without a clear reason for why this should be done, has also been blocked.

Strangely too, accounts of senior Kashmiri journalists like Muzamil Jamil from Indian Express, who is not particularly active on X, and editor of Kashmir Times, Anuradha Bhasin, have been blocked. Also, the Kerala-based digital platform Maktoob Media, even though it is reporting on the ongoing exchange between India and Pakistan much as mainstream media is doing. 

At the time of publishing this story, The Wire announced that its website was blocked in India as well. 

When strategic affairs are involved, especially between India and Pakistan, the media is flooded with comments by “experts”. On television news, the expertise of some of some of these men, and they are all men, can be questioned. But they provide the optics for the shouting matches that are always the norm, and more so when the issue is India and Pakistan.

Fortunately, print remains more sober, and one can read, or listen to, counter-terrorism experts who speak with the knowledge and insight needed to clear the fog of disinformation.

One such is Ajai Sahni. In this long, but frank, podcast with senior journalist Nirupama Subramanian for Frontline, Sahni speaks about how much of the government’s response after the Pahalgam terror attack is pure optics, and what if anything can be done to deal with the reality of cross-border terror. Without mincing words, he says that Pahalgam was a policy failure, a propaganda failure, and a political failure.

In the fog of war, disinformation from all sides is the virtual norm. We have seen that in abundance in the last few days. The night of May 6/7 will be remembered for the deluge that followed Operation Sindoor. Yet, it was the much maligned Mohammed Zubair of Alt News who systematically separated the wheat from the chaff so to speak, and revealed how handles pretending to be Indians, were Pakistanis sharing old videos to show the extent of the attack by India. Later he also showed how handles in India, and even TV channels, were using old videos to show what was going on that night.

The scourge of social media did not exist in the previous major clashes between India and Pakistan (although there is hope that this one will not escalate into a major clash). Today, it is something that is virtually impossible to control. As a result, responsible media platforms without independent sources of verification are left with no option but to stick to what is confirmed officially, even if this is not the whole story. However, even within these constraints, there are stories about people, and the impact of conflict, that need to be recorded and told. 

All this started in Kashmir, when 26 people were brutally murdered on April 22 by gun-toting men identified as terrorists. It is a region that has now been pushed back into a time of tension and sorrow. Do read this sensitive and moving piece by Mirza Waheed, Kashmiri journalist and well-known writer, in The Guardian lamenting that Kashmiri voices are still missing. 

 in The Guardian lamenting that Kashmiri voices are still missing.  

From Kunal Kamra to Mohanlal to a long-dead emperor, India is the Republic of Intolerance

 Broken News

Published in Newslaundry on March 31, 2025

Link: https://www.newslaundry.com/2025/03/31/from-kunal-kamra-to-mohanlal-to-a-long-dead-emperor-india-is-the-republic-of-intolerance

Mohanlal and Kunal Kamra, with Aurangzeb in the background.|Shambhavi Thakur

Between Aurangzeb and Kunal Kamra, we are now fully qualified to call ourselves “The Republic of Intolerance”.  

The month of March in Maharashtra has seen agitations and riots around a Mughal emperor who died 300 years ago. And a stand-up comic, who performed in Mumbai in January but released a video of his act in March, receiving threats to his life, several cases being filed against him, and a privilege motion against him in the state assembly. 

Meanwhile, it was almost comical to learn that the wrecking brigade of Eknath Shinde’s offended loyalists, who trashed the venue where Kamra had performed, expressed disbelief that he was not present when all of them had just seen his video! 

But jokes apart, the current generation must wonder whether there was ever a time when humourists and cartoonists could poke fun at politicians and not be slapped with cases, or be lynched, or sent to jail.

In fact, such a time did exist. As recently as 1975, just 50 years ago, the late Abu Abraham could draw and publish a cartoon in which he depicted the person holding the highest office in India, none other than the President, as someone sitting in a bathtub signing the declaration of the Emergency that Indira Gandhi had sent to the Rashtrapati Bhawan late on the night of June 25, 1975. Abraham did not have cases filed against him, nor was he sent to jail and the newspaper that published his cartoon, Indian Express, was not banned. And this even as Indira Gandhi declared a state of emergency and placed curbs on the press.

The cartoon by Aby Abraham published in 1975.

In 1987, in the same newspaper, the cartoonist Ravi Shankar drew the image of a worried Rajiv Gandhi, by then the prime minister, sitting in a big chair, shouting “Mummy”! Shankar too did not face any adverse reactions from the Rajiv Gandhi government. 

Today, we truly live in the “Naya Bharat”, the title of Kamra’s controversial show. Not only are politicians in the list of unmentionables, but even events from the recent past cannot be referenced. 

While Kamra refuses to apologise, the well-known actor Mohanlal from Kerala has done so with alacrity. He has agreed, after objections raised by members of the Sangh Parivar about scenes mentioning the Gujarat 2002 communal carnage in his new film Empuraan, to make “voluntary modifications”. 

It is not just actors and comedians who need to worry. Journalists, especially those who believe in doing the job for which they are trained, are in for tougher days given the rising temperature of intolerance in general, and specific statements and laws that several states are contemplating or have already enacted.

In Assam, Dilawar Hussain Mazumdar, who works for a digital platform CrossCurrents, was covering a demonstration outside the Assam Cooperative Apex Bank. He was detained, then arrested, then rearrested. Mazumdar and the platform for which he works have been critical of the ruling BJP in Assam. It is also not a coincidence that Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma is a director of the bank before which the demonstration was being held. 

It is not just actors and comedians who need to worry. Journalists, especially those who believe in doing the job for which they are trained, are in for tougher days given the rising temperature of intolerance in general.

While Mazumdar has been granted bail, his detention is worrying not just for its arbitrariness but also because of Sarma’s remark that Mazumdar is not a “legitimate” journalist. In other words, if journalists who work for web portals do not get accreditation, they cannot be regarded as journalists. 

Then take Maharashtra, the scene of both the Aurangzeb controversy that led to a communal riot in Nagpur, and the incident involving Kunal Kamra who faces several legal challenges if he steps into the state.

The state government is in the process of setting up a Media Monitoring Unit at the cost of Rs 10 crore, ostensibly to check whether government programmes and policies are being reported accurately. But we know that “monitoring” the media cannot be that innocent.

Why does the government need a special media monitoring unit when it already has the Directorate of Information and Public Relations that does precisely this: it monitors the media, sends out press releases about government programmes, and informs those who run the government about the media’s response.  

Incidentally, it was the same Kunal Kamra, who challenged a similar attempt by the central government to set up a Fact Checking Unit. This was also supposed to monitor the media and deal with “fake” or “false” news relating to government programmes. Kamra’s challenge before the Bombay High Court resulted in a ruling that has stopped the central government from proceeding with this for now.

When governments decide to monitor the media, categorise journalists as “legitimate” or not, and introduce laws that increase their powers of arbitrary arrest, there is a reason to be worried. 

The Maharashtra government has reintroduced a law that lapsed last year before the state elections. In July last year, the government then led by Eknath Shinde, had introduced the Maharashtra Special Public Security Bill 2024. In December, the new government led by Devendra Fadnavis reintroduced the same bill. It is likely to come up in the monsoon session.

The ostensible reason stated for bringing in such a law is apparently to curb “urban Naxals”, a vague term that covers anyone or any organisation that is critical of the government. Additionally, it duplicates laws that already exist such as the UAPA and provisions in the criminal law that give governments the power to detain and imprison individuals on a whole range of grounds. Such laws have already been widely used in the last decade, including in Maharashtra. 

Therefore, we must ask why such a law, and why now? Editorials in several newspapers including The Hindu, Indian Express, Deccan Herald and Times of India have asked the same question. The Hindu writes:

“When existing laws seem adequate to tackle extremism, and the area affected by left-wing extremism is limited in the State, the only reason such a proposal has been made could be an oblique intent to crack down on lawyers, dissenters and human rights activists involved in taking up the cause of the marginalised.”

Needless to say, journalists and news portals that speak up on human rights issues would also come under the radar of such a law.

So, is this just a coincidence that several states are bringing in similar laws, and closely monitoring the media, either through new structures as in Maharashtra, or through their existing bodies? Or does it suggest that the Modi government has decided to let the states do what it hasn’t managed to do yet, especially in controlling the media that is still independent and continues to be critical?

I would suggest it is the latter. To the world the Modi government can claim India is a democracy, that freedom of expression is guaranteed. In fact, through existing laws and new ones being introduced at the state level, every attempt is being made not just to curb civil society groups and dissenters, which would include writers and journalists, but also to keep a closer eye on media and journalists.