The Show Trial of Arundhati Roy

Shashi Tharoor

Last month, the lieutenant governor of Delhi granted the police permission to prosecute Indian activist and prize-winning author Arundhati Roy under the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA). Back in 2010, Roy said that Kashmir – which was experiencing unrest at the time – is not “an integral part of India.” Accusations of sedition quickly followed, but it is only now that she will face prosecution.

Advocating secession is illegal in most countries, and India is no exception. In fact, secession is a particularly fraught topic in India, because the wounds from its previous partition, carried out by the departing British in 1947, still have not healed. On its western border lies the festering sore of Islamist Pakistan, which is constantly fomenting – and intermittently launching – terrorist attacks on Indian territory, partly to promote Kashmir’s secession from India and merger with Pakistan.

Against this backdrop, Roy’s statement was both provocative and unwise. It was also wrong: there is overwhelming historical evidence showing that Kashmir has long been an integral part of India. To claim otherwise suggests either ignorance or innocence, neither of which is desirable when making controversial pronouncements on sensitive topics. As much as I admire Roy as a person and a writer, I do not always rate her political views and judgments highly, and this was a case in point.

Roy defended herself against accusations of disloyalty to her country. “What I say comes from love and pride,” she wrote at the time. “Pity the nation that has to silence its writers for speaking their minds.” Whether or not one finds her motivations convincing, prosecuting her for comments 14 years after she made them smacks of overkill.

Even in 2010, prosecution seemed excessive – at least to the Indian National Congress, which was then the government party. While the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), then in opposition, demanded that Roy be prosecuted, the central government (of which I was a minister) was engaged in a peace-and-reconciliation dialogue aimed at restoring normalcy in Kashmir; putting Roy on trial would be a needless distraction.

The uproar over Roy’s remarks died down soon enough. And while a magistrate’s court took note of her statement and registered a case against her, it did not pursue the matter further. The idea was that merely registering a sedition charge would be enough to convey the state’s disapproval and convince an outspoken author not to repeat such remarks.

But, today, political calculations have changed. The BJP is in power, and it has a much lower tolerance for dissent than the Congress-led government did. Following an election in which it lost its majority in the lower house of India’s parliament, the BJP appears determined to demonstrate that it has no plans to ease up.

By prosecuting Roy under the UAPA, which was designed to combat terrorism – rather than India’s colonial-era sedition law, which the Supreme Court put on hold in 2022 – the state can bypass the statute of limitations. It seems to be going with Section 13 of the law, according to which whoever “advocates, abets, advises, or incites the commission of any unlawful activity” may face up to seven years in prison, along with a possible fine.

Applying this prohibition to Roy’s comment is excessive, to say the least. A few ill-chosen words 14 years ago pose no security threat whatsoever, and seeking to punish the speaker demonstrates a level of pettiness unworthy of a democratic government. Moreover, citing national-security concerns – and invoking anti-terror laws – to suppress dissent will lower the bar for free speech across India.

Perhaps we should not be surprised. This is, after all, the same government that calls disagreement “anti-national” and urges its critics to “go to Pakistan,” as if there is no room for their views in India. And it was the same government that in 2019 unilaterally divided Jammu and Kashmir – India’s only Muslimmajority state – and reduced its status from state to union territory, directly administered by the federal government.

The BJP regularly calls India “the mother of democracy” (without so much as a nod to the Greeks). By prosecuting Roy, however, its government has discarded the well-established principle, on which Mahatma Gandhi insisted, that Indians may say whatever they wish against the government so long as they do not advocate violence.

Roy’s case risks showcasing all the most unattractive features of Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s government. The BJP wants to send a tough message to dissenters within India: conform or else. But the prosecution and likely conviction of a popular, respected, charismatic author, who is well regarded in the West and Japan as well, will probably backfire and become more fodder for those who have already downgraded India to an “electoral autocracy” and lowered its press-freedom ranking.

Even if Roy is imprisoned only briefly, the images of her being led away will be seared into the world’s conscience, much to India’s – and Modi’s – detriment. After all, as Charles de Gaulle put it, an effective ruler “does not arrest Voltaire.” While Roy sits in a prison cell, Modi will be thrown in the global doghouse. It is not too late to wise up and call off the prosecution.