The frequency with which the word “sedition” has been crashing into the front page or prime-time television news of late is tragic, terrifying and ridiculous. On one hand, there is the very serious issue of the sedition law (Section 124A Indian Penal Code), a leftover from the colonial era, still being used by political parties to “control” anyone who threatens to spoil the party by raising inconvenient truths. On the other, there is the attempt at “banalising” sedition through frivolous complaints. A sort of “I don’t agree with you, I don’t like you, your face, your guts, and therefore, I will lodge a sedition complaint against you”.
A telling example of this is the controversy now swirling around Kannada actress-politician Ramya. Her story, as told in the media, is this: After a recent visit to Islamabad as part of a Saarc delegation of young MPs, Ramya said at a public meeting that “Pakistan is not hell. People there are just like us. They treated us very well.”
Whoa! That was seen as a sly counter to recent comments by defence minister Manohar Parrikar. Mr Parrikar, in his characteristically elegant style, lashed out at Islamabad for promoting terror, saying: “Going to Pakistan is the same as going to hell.” Toss the two statements together, throw in publicity-seekers and a controversy is born. An advocate filed a complaint on Monday, accusing Ramya of “insulting” Indian patriots by “praising” Pakistan and urged a court to order the police to book Ramya for “sedition” and for “disturbing” the peace. The court has admitted the complaint; the hearing is on August 27.
All of Tuesday, the media was debating the latest “sedition” story, except it wasn’t a sedition story as yet. As legal luminary Sanjay Hegde noted, “no sedition case can proceed unless the government sanctions it”. In other words, no private citizen can charge another citizen with sedition. Sedition, a horrific legacy from the British Raj, is a serious matter. The relevant section in the statute book reads: “Whoever, by words, either spoken or written, or by signs, or by visible representation, or otherwise, brings or attempts to bring into hatred or contempt, or excites or attempts to excite disaffection towards the government established by law in India, shall be punished with imprisonment for life, to which fine may be added, or with imprisonment which may extend to three years, to which fine may be added, or with fine.”
Subsequent judicial interpretations noted that under Indian law, allegedly seditious speech and expression may be punished only if the speech is “incitement” to “violence” or “public disorder”.
If Ramya is projected as the star in a sizzling “sedition” story due to her love for Pakistani hospitality, so should every South Delhi woman who buys smuggled Pakistani kajal and packs her shopping bag with Pakistani shalwars and dupattas.
Ramya has sensibly refused to apologise. And one doubts if Pakistani kajal and shalwar sales have dipped in Indian cities despite the strained ties between the two countries.
The Ramya story makes one laugh, but actually it’s no laughing matter. The fact that anyone can actually think of filing a complaint urging that a sedition case be slapped, simply as Ramya enjoyed Pakistani hospitality and found things in common with Pakistanis she met, is both serious and silly at the same time.
The silliness of this story risks pushing into the background the far more serious matters that have come up about this law. When grilled on TV, many political party representatives typically tut-tut about the sedition law. They talk of the need for a debate and sometimes openly say it should be removed from the statute book.
But all this is only for public consumption. Successive governments, both Congress and BJP, had the chance to toss out the sedition law but haven’t done so. The sword of “sedition” continues to dangle as we have seen in the recent case involving Amnesty International, once again in Karnataka. The human rights group was booked for sedition for organising an event in Bengaluru where some people allegedly chanted slogans for “azadi” in Kashmir. This was seen by members of the BJP students’ wing and the police as spreading hatred against India. The curious equivocation over this by the Congress, which is in power in the state, is emblematic of the real problem.
The sedition narrative is now mixed with the vitriolic and polarising narrative around “true” nationalism. And the political class wants to play all sides.
Last October Patel quota agitation leader Hardik Patel emerged as the star of another “sedition” saga when such charges were slapped on him for allegedly instigating a youth to kill policemen instead of committing suicide. Patel denied giving such advice. This February the whole country was convulsed with the story of JNU students Kanhaiya Kumar, Umar Khalid and Anirban Bhattacharya, all facing sedition charges for allegedly raising anti-India slogans at a campus event. The video on the basis of which the allegation was made is under a shadow; but the “sedition” case is still going on.
There have been many other cases. A veritable galaxy of people has been booked for sedition — writer Arundhati Roy, public health activist Binayak Sen, cartoonist Aseem Trivedi, to name just a few.
Sedition is a very serious charge. By using it to silence legitimate political or social voices, which take a position different from the majority, those in power and their acolytes trivialise it. But they do achieve their purpose, as the people against whom such charges are levelled then spend years running to courts to prove their innocence. This is a dangerous misuse of the criminal justice system. It has no place in a modern democracy.
Seriously, some of us must grow up, and learn to deal with disagreement, no matter how strong, without hissing “sedition” or litigation.
The writer focuses on development issues in India and emerging economies. She can be reached at patralekha.chatterjee@gmail.com.
