A rational nation, a reasonable state, should be able to distinguish between a peaceful protest, however spirited, and an act of terrorism. That we no longer can is a reflection of two things. One is India’s laws which have always been bad but have become demented. The other is our inability to separate the state from the nation. Recent events, whose details we do not need to go into here, shine a light on both. We need to see how, and this is not limited to the events in our Parliament.
Cattle slaughter is an economic offence in India and not a religious crime. This is because the Constitution’s Directive Principle on this issue advises us that cattle are important for the economy. The Constituent Assembly debates are filled with earnest Congressmen telling the nation that one reason India was malnourished was because there was insufficient milk for our children. And to reverse this it was necessary that cow slaughter be banned. No evidence was given from elsewhere in the world because none existed. In its early manifestoes the Jana Sangh opposed the use of tractors because that would mean that bullocks would have no work.
All this has changed over the years of course. India is a milk surplus nation that exports its produce. And tractors have long eclipsed bullocks. But cattle slaughter laws not only remain but have been tightened. Gujarat’s punishment for cattle slaughter is now life imprisonment. No other economic crime attracts this but we have accepted that we are so full of passion in this that we cannot turn back from this path. The law comes with reversal of burden of proof. In 2019, a Gujarati Muslim was accused of slaughtering a cow to serve beef at his daughter’s wedding. The police told the court they could not prove that this had happened. The forensic sciences laboratory said the same thing. The judge sentenced the man to 10 years in jail nonetheless saying that it was for him to prove that he was innocent and not for the state to prove his guilt. Gujarat High Court suspended the sentence on the grounds of ‘judicial discretion.’ Perhaps the court was embarrassed that we have such laws on the book in this era. But the interesting thing is that you could rationally argue both sides. The higher court was right in overturning the sentence. But the sentence was the result of a law and the judge was not out of place in convicting the man.
Today saying something is a ‘security threat’ is sufficient to jail, possibly for years if the present is any indication, a group of youngsters making a point. Whose security? What threat? These are waters too deep for us to venture into because it requires adults to consider such things and we are not adults.
In 1919 Gandhi led an all-India strike against the Rowlatt Act. In support a crowd gathered in Amritsar to join the protest at Jallianwala Bagh. Punjab’s governor Sir Michael O’Dwyer claimed British rule was under threat and responded with violence, unleashing the Gurkha and Baloch Regiments on the civilians, killing over 300.
The British passed the Rowlatt Act in the face of opposition from all of the Indian members of the Imperial Legislative Council. The British claimed the law would affect very few Indians. However Gandhi called it an “affront to the nation.” So what was so offensive about the Rowlatt Act (more properly, the Anarchical and Revolutionary Crimes Act, 1919)? Why were Indians so angered by it that they were holding public demonstrations and opposing it in the Council? The Act did away with fundamental principles of the rule of law. It could hold people without charge or trial and it did away with jury trials, in favour of in-camera trials by judges. This is called administrative detention, meaning the jailing of someone without a crime having been committed, merely on the suspicion that they will commit a crime in future. That anger which we had when it came to the British trampling over our rights appears to have vanished when it comes to oppression under government run by our own.
The UAPA, under which many Indians have been charged and are in jail, does not define ‘terrorist’ or ‘terrorism’. The law (readers would do well to read the latest version of it) is broad enough to name vast numbers of Indians as terrorists because it is so loosely framed. It has to be opposed, by all of us. At the age of 22, Bhagat Singh became a national celebrity in India. His act of rebellion, his desire to not cause harm to the enemy — the bombs were only whiz-bangs that produced smoke — and his ability to express himself clearly ensured that the media and the public were both riveted by him. What was the law that he was opposing? Bhagat Singh threw his smoke bombs to oppose the Public Safety Bill. It allowed the government to jail people without trial. Just like UAPA. Bhagat Singh was right to oppose it. He was right to oppose it in the manner he did. We call him a martyr because he was punished for doing what he did for the rest of us. We call the young people who did exactly the same thing and for the same reason terrorists.
By Aakar Patel