Pannalal was reportedly arrested from his residence in Raipur late on Friday night, August 7, and was subsequently sent to judicial custody. According to a statement issued by a group of activists and human-rights campaigners, members of the Bajrang Dal had gathered outside his residence during the arrest, while a substantial police presence was deployed in the area.

The activists have described the arrest as an attempt to “silence a voice for minority rights” and have called for Pannalal’s immediate release on bail, a transparent judicial process and an end to what they describe as the misuse of criminal law in matters involving religious speech.

FIR over Alleged Facebook Comment

According to the statement, the case against Pannalal was initiated following a complaint by BJP spokesperson Amit Chimnani concerning an allegedly objectionable comment Pannalal made on Facebook in connection with a post about Lord Shiva.

The activists say Pannalal has been booked under provisions of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS) relating to promoting enmity between groups, deliberately insulting religious beliefs with the intention of outraging religious feelings, and intentional insult intended to provoke a breach of peace.

Section 196 of the BNS covers conduct that promotes or attempts to promote disharmony, hatred or ill-will between religious or other groups. Section 299 addresses deliberate and malicious acts intended to outrage the religious feelings of a class by insulting its religion or religious beliefs, while Section 352 deals with intentional insult where the accused intends, or knows it is likely, that the provocation will lead to a breach of public peace.

The precise contents of the alleged Facebook comment, the FIR and the police’s evidence against Pannalal could not be independently established from the material available for this report. The allegations remain subject to investigation and judicial determination.

Activists Question Circumstances Surrounding Arrest

The signatories to the statement have questioned the timing and circumstances of the arrest, particularly the reported presence of Bajrang Dal activists outside Pannalal’s residence.

They argue that the combination of a politically affiliated complainant, the late-night arrest and the mobilisation of Hindu-right groups raises questions about whether adequate safeguards were followed in handling a case involving potentially sensitive religious speech.

Those assertions, however, are the position of the activists who issued the statement and should not be treated as established findings unless supported by police records, court proceedings or independent evidence.

The authorities have not, in the material reviewed for this report, publicly established that the gathering outside Pannalal’s residence was coordinated with the police or that the arrest itself was politically motivated.

Pannalal’s Longstanding Role in Chhattisgarh’s Minority-rights Debate

Pannalal is a longstanding public figure in Chhattisgarh’s Christian community and has frequently spoken about alleged attacks on Christians, religious freedom and the rights of tribal Christians.

The Chhattisgarh Christian Forum, which he heads, has previously highlighted alleged attacks on Christian communities and places of worship. In 2020, Pannalal publicly raised concerns following violence involving Christian families in Kondagaon district. At the time, police described the underlying dispute as involving tensions within local communities and said they would take legal action as appropriate.

His advocacy has also brought him into conflict with authorities and Hindu organisations in previous years. In 2025, an FIR was registered against him at Raipur’s Azad Chowk police station following controversy surrounding social-media material related to the Pahalgam terrorist attack. Reports at the time said the case invoked BNS Sections 196 and 299, while Hindu organisations including the Bajrang Dal and Vishwa Hindu Parishad had demanded action against him.

Earlier reporting has likewise documented Pannalal’s involvement in disputes concerning alleged attacks on Christians and restrictions affecting Christian religious activity in the state.

Arrest Comes Shortly After Tougher Anti-conversion Law Takes Effect

The latest controversy comes against the backdrop of a major change in Chhattisgarh’s religious-conversion law.

The Chhattisgarh Religious Freedom Act, 2026 has now come into force. The legislation replaces the older law inherited from undivided Madhya Pradesh and introduces substantially tougher provisions concerning religious conversion. Reports say the law took effect from July 10, 2026, following notification by the state government.

The new legislation provides stringent penalties for conversion through force, fraud, coercion or inducement, with provisions that can result in lengthy imprisonment and, in certain circumstances, life imprisonment and substantial fines. It also establishes additional procedural requirements surrounding religious conversion.

The law has become a major point of contention between the BJP government and opposition and civil-society groups. The government has defended the legislation as necessary to prevent exploitation and protect religious freedom, while critics have expressed concern about the potential for broad provisions to be used against legitimate religious activity.

The timing of Pannalal’s arrest is therefore likely to intensify an already contentious debate over the relationship between religious-conversion laws, minority rights and freedom of conscience in Chhattisgarh.

Constitutional Questions

The activists opposing Pannalal’s arrest have invoked Articles 19 and 25 of the Constitution.

Article 19 guarantees citizens specified freedoms of speech and expression, subject to constitutionally permitted restrictions. Article 25 guarantees freedom of conscience and the right to freely profess, practise and propagate religion, subject to public order, morality, health and other constitutional limitations.

The constitutional question in Pannalal’s case will ultimately turn on the precise content and context of the alleged Facebook comment, the applicability of the criminal provisions invoked, and whether the prosecution can establish the necessary legal ingredients of the offences.

Freedom of expression in India is not absolute, particularly where speech is alleged to threaten public order or deliberately insult religious beliefs. At the same time, criminal prosecution for speech requires the statutory elements of the offence to be established, and the accused remains entitled to due process and the presumption of innocence.

Allegation of Executive Prejudgment

The statement issued by the activists also criticises Chief Minister Vishnu Deo Sai, alleging that he publicly described Pannalal’s remarks as objectionable to Sanatan Dharma before the case had been adjudicated.

If accurately attributed and contextualised, such comments could become an important part of the wider debate over executive commentary on pending criminal proceedings. The activists argue that a government should not prejudge an accused person’s guilt before the courts have examined the evidence.

However, whether the Chief Minister’s reported remarks amount to improper interference with the judicial process is ultimately a matter that would depend on their precise wording, context and the applicable legal standards.

Wider Backdrop of Christian-minority Concerns

Pannalal’s arrest follows a period of heightened national attention on religious-conversion allegations and the treatment of Christians in Chhattisgarh.

In July 2025, the arrests of two Catholic nuns and another person at Durg railway station over allegations involving forced conversion and human trafficking generated protests and political controversy. The arrests were made under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita and the then-existing Chhattisgarh Religious Freedom Act. Christian organisations argued that the allegations were politically motivated, while authorities maintained that the cases required investigation.

The episode illustrated the highly polarised environment surrounding allegations of religious conversion in the state, where accusations can rapidly become intertwined with political mobilisation, communal tensions and questions about minority protection.

Pannalal himself has been a prominent critic of what he and other Christian organisations describe as growing pressure on Christian communities. His organisation has previously alleged attacks, intimidation and restrictions on Christian religious activity, claims that have at various times been disputed or differently characterised by authorities.

Demand for Release and Due Process

The August 9 statement has been signed by a group of activists, writers, academics, diplomats and civil-society figures, including former National Integration Council member Dr John Dayal, Jesuit priest and human-rights activist Fr Cedric Prakash, activist Minakshi Singh, Caleb Institute president Dr Richard Howell, Raipur-based activist Dr Goldy George, writer Jay Jayaram, academic Fr Frazier Masceranhas, retired diplomat Ashok Sharma, Dr Fatima Poonawala and writer-activist Blessy Prasad Mathews, among others.

They have demanded:

– Pannalal’s immediate and unconditional release on bail;

– a fair and transparent judicial process;

– an end to executive commentary that could prejudice criminal proceedings;

– protection of freedom of expression and freedom of conscience; and

– an end to what they characterise as the use of criminal law for political silencing.

The controversy now moves into the legal arena, where the contents of the alleged social-media post, the FIR, the prosecution’s evidence and the circumstances surrounding Pannalal’s arrest will be subject to scrutiny.

What Happens Next

The immediate legal issue is Pannalal’s custody and his prospects for bail. The investigation will also determine whether the prosecution can establish the statutory requirements of the BNS provisions invoked against him.

Beyond the individual case, however, the arrest is likely to become a test of how Chhattisgarh balances competing constitutional interests: protection of religious sentiment and public order on one side, and freedom of expression, freedom of conscience and minority rights on the other.

For supporters of Pannalal, the case represents another instance of a minority-rights advocate being criminally prosecuted after speaking publicly about religious issues. For those supporting the complaint, the case concerns accountability for speech alleged to offend religious beliefs and potentially disturb communal harmony.

The courts, rather than political actors or street mobilisation, will ultimately have to determine whether the alleged Facebook comment crossed the legal threshold for criminal liability.

The allegations against Arun Pannalal are not proof of guilt. Likewise, allegations of political or communal targeting made by his supporters remain claims unless established through independent evidence or judicial findings.

Courtesy: CounterView

The post Arrest of Christian leader in Raipur sparks concerns over minority rights and free speech appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The first FIR was registered on August 5, just four days after the law came into force. According to The Indian Express, the 22-year-old, originally from Uttar Pradesh, was allegedly in a relationship with a minor from his village. The two subsequently moved to Karnataka and then Pune. Police allege that he asked the girl to convert from her religion. He has been booked under Sections 3 and 9(2) of the new Act, along with provisions of the POCSO Act, and is currently in judicial custody.

Section 3 prohibits conversion or attempts to convert through coercion, fraud, allurement, misrepresentation, force, threat or undue influence. Where a minor is involved, Section 9(2) permits punishment of up to seven years’ imprisonment and a fine of up to ₹5 lakh.

The allegation, however, still has to be established. The FIR itself does not establish that an offence under Section 3 occurred, particularly since the prosecution will have to demonstrate the specific means allegedly used to induce the conversion. The distinction matters in a law where ordinary interpersonal conduct could potentially come under scrutiny if the statutory ingredients are interpreted expansively.

Second FIR widens the scope of concern

The second case concerns a British national and OCI cardholder. Pune Police allege that he participated in prayer meetings and religious gatherings and attempted to persuade people to embrace Christianity. Police have also alleged that he spoke about following Jesus and made statements concerning Hindu temples and deities that were intended to mislead people and induce conversion, The Indian Express reported.

The police have reportedly invoked both the Maharashtra Freedom of Religion Act and provisions of the Immigration and Foreigners Act, 2025, arguing that the OCI cardholder was not authorised to preach or deliver religious discourses without permission. This case raises a more fundamental question about the boundary between religious propagation and unlawful inducement. Participation in a religious gathering or expressing one’s religious beliefs, by itself, does not establish coercion, fraud, force or undue influence. Whether the alleged conduct crosses that statutory threshold will ultimately have to be determined through evidence and judicial scrutiny.

A law with wide-reaching provisions

The Maharashtra Act does more than criminalise forced or fraudulent conversion. It introduces a prior-notice regime for persons intending to convert, permits complaints by specified relatives, regulates conversions connected with marriage or promises of marriage, and places the burden of establishing that a conversion was voluntary on the person conducting it. It also provides enhanced punishment where the alleged conversion involves minors, women, members of Scheduled Castes or Scheduled Tribes, or persons of unsound mind.

The breadth of terms such as “allurement”, “undue influence” and “misrepresentation” is likely to be central to the misuse of the law. A law intended to prevent coercive conversion cannot, constitutionally, become a mechanism for policing voluntary religious belief, expression or association.

The concern is particularly relevant because the legislation operates in an area closely connected with individual autonomy, freedom of conscience and the right to profess, practise and propagate religion under Article 25 of the Constitution. This is one of the key substantive points argued by the CJP in its constitutional challenge to the Himachal Pradesh law. Report may be read here.

The speed with which the legislation moved through the state legislature had itself become a point of criticism. Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP), in its dissent note, highlighted that the Bill was introduced and passed within days, with limited scope for public consultation or legislative scrutiny, despite the fact that similar anti-conversion laws enacted by other states are already under examination before the Supreme Court. CJP is the lead petitioner in the constitutional challenge to the first batch of such laws passed by five states between the years, 2020-2023. This challenge has been pending in the Supreme Court, despite pleas for interim stays on the most egregious provisions for over five years now. [1]

Details on the interim applications urging stay on the most egregious provisions, filed by CJP on April 16, 2025 may be read here.

In early 2026, while the batch of petitions challenging the constitutional validity of these state laws were listed before the court of the Chief Justice of India (CJI), they were once again deferred. Reports may be read here. Thereafter, first on May 13, 2026 the matters were listed to be heard after which the next date that appears on the Supreme Court calendar is August 12, 2026.

Related:

Allahabad HC flags misuse of UP Anti-Conversion Law, quashes FIR and rebukes ‘mimeographed’ complaints

35 civil society groups oppose Maharashtra’s proposed anti-conversion law, warn of threat to women’s autonomy and constitutional freedoms

‘Faith Is Not a Crime’: Mumbai’s Christians rise against Maharashtra’s proposed anti-conversion bill

Maharashtra’s Proposed Anti-Conversion Law: Manufacturing moral panic to criminalise personal choice

Supreme Court defers hearing in batch of petitions, led by CJP, challenging state Anti-Conversion laws; interim relief applications pending since April 2025v

Maharashtra’s Anti-Conversion Push: How organised street pressure, Hindutva mobilisation and a pending law threaten constitutional freedoms

The post Two FIRs, Four Days In: Pune sees first use of Maharashtra’s controversial anti-conversion law appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The Maharashtra Freedom of Religion Bill, 2026, was introduced during the Budget Session of the Maharashtra Legislature in March 2026. The Bill was tabled in the Legislative Assembly on March 13, 2026, and was passed by the Assembly on March 16, followed by approval from the Legislative Council on March 17. After being cleared by both Houses, the legislation was sent to Maharashtra Governor C.P. Radhakrishnan, who subsequently reserved it for the consideration of the President of India. The Bill received presidential assent from President Droupadi Murmu on July 31, 2026, after which the Governor forwarded it to the state government for notification. The Act will come into force only after the Maharashtra government issues a notification specifying the date of commencement. Maharashtra becomes the 13^th state in the country to pass such/similar laws. All these states are governed by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) that has its ideological base in the far right, Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS).

The speed with which the legislation moved through the state legislature had itself become a point of criticism. Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP), in its dissent note, highlighted that the Bill was introduced and passed within days, with limited scope for public consultation or legislative scrutiny, despite the fact that similar anti-conversion laws enacted by other states are already under examination before the Supreme Court. CJP is the lead petitioner in the constitutional challenge to the first batch of such laws passed by five states between the years, 2020-2023. This challenge has been pending in the Supreme Court, despite pleas for interim stays on the most egregious provisions for over five years now. [1]

Details on the interim applications urging stay on the most egregious provisions, filed by CJP on April 16, 2025 may be read here.

In early 2026, while the batch of petitions challenging the constitutional validity of these state laws were listed before the court of the Chief Justice of India (CJI), they were once again deferred. Reports may be read here. Thereafter, first on May 13, 2026 the matters were listed to be heard after which the next date that appears on the Supreme Court calendar is August 12, 2026!!

The presidential assent does little to resolve the fundamental constitutional questions surrounding the legislation. Instead, Maharashtra has now joined a growing list of states that have enacted “freedom of religion” laws whose provisions are being challenged for creating a framework where the exercise of an individual’s conscience and religious choice is placed under state surveillance.

CJP, which is also the lead petitioner challenging multiple anti-conversion laws before the Supreme Court, has consistently argued that these statutes do not merely target coercive conversions. Rather, their architecture treats voluntary conversion, particularly in the context of interfaith relationships, as inherently suspect and places private decisions under criminal scrutiny.

A “Freedom of Religion” law that restricts the freedom to choose

The Maharashtra Act claims to prevent conversions caused by force, fraud, coercion, misrepresentation, allurement or undue influence. On paper, preventing coercion may appear consistent with constitutional guarantees. However, the difficulty lies in the breadth of the law and the mechanisms it creates.

The Act treats offering money, gifts, employment, education, promises of marriage, assurances of better living conditions or claims of divine healing as unlawful inducements if linked with conversion. The problem is that the law does not adequately distinguish between genuine coercion and ordinary circumstances in which individuals make religious choices influenced by personal relationships, social support, material circumstances or lived experiences. By creating a wide category of prohibited influence, the law risks converting legitimate exercises of conscience into potential criminal offences. A person’s decision to embrace another faith is protected not because the State approves of the choice, but because the Constitution protects the individual’s autonomy to make that choice.

Mandatory state oversight over matters of faith

One of the most intrusive features of the legislation is the requirement of prior notice before conversion. The Act mandates a 60-day prior notice to the district magistrate before conversion. This effectively transforms a deeply personal decision into an administrative process.

Instead of recognising conversion as an exercise of individual conscience, the law creates a system where government authorities are informed in advance and can scrutinise the circumstances surrounding a person’s decision.

CJP has argued that such provisions undermine the constitutional guarantee of freedom of conscience by making religious choice dependent on executive oversight. The Constitution does not make the right to believe, reject, adopt or change religion conditional upon government approval.

The law creates a climate of suspicion around interfaith relationships

While the Act is presented as a measure against forced conversion, its most contentious impact is likely to be felt in cases involving interfaith relationships. The legislation permits complaints by relatives of the person who has converted, including parents and siblings. This creates a mechanism where consenting adults may find their personal relationships subjected to police investigation merely because family members object to their choices.

CJP’s dissent note has warned that such provisions disproportionately affect interfaith couples by allowing private disagreements and social opposition to be converted into criminal proceedings.

The concern is not hypothetical. Similar anti-conversion laws across states have repeatedly been invoked in cases involving marriages between persons of different faiths. A law meant to protect individual choice cannot operate by empowering third parties to challenge that choice.

Reversal of burden of proof

Perhaps the most constitutionally troubling feature of the Maharashtra Act is the reversal of the burden of proof. Under ordinary criminal jurisprudence, the prosecution must establish guilt beyond reasonable doubt. However, under this legislation, the accused person must prove that the conversion was lawful and voluntary. The State is therefore not required to first establish wrongdoing in the traditional sense; instead, the person accused of facilitating conversion must defend the legitimacy of the act.

CJP has identified this reversal as one of the central constitutional defects in anti-conversion laws, arguing that it undermines basic criminal law protections and creates a chilling effect on legitimate religious choices.

Regulating women’s choices under the guise of preventing coercion

Although the Maharashtra Freedom of Religion Act is presented as a law against forced or fraudulent religious conversions, its operation is likely to fall most heavily on women exercising autonomy in matters of faith and marriage. Across states with similar anti-conversion laws, a significant number of prosecutions have arisen not from allegations of organised or coerced conversions, but from consensual interfaith relationships where families have opposed a woman’s decision to marry or convert. By permitting complaints from parents, siblings and other blood relatives, mandating prior notice before conversion, and empowering the police to investigate private decisions, the Act effectively shifts control over an adult woman’s choices from the individual to her family and the State. Instead of presuming that adult women possess the capacity to make informed decisions about their faith and relationships—a principle repeatedly affirmed by constitutional courts—the law creates a legal framework that invites suspicion of their agency. As CJP has argued in its dissent note, the legislation risks reinforcing patriarchal assumptions that women are vulnerable to manipulation and therefore require State and familial supervision, undermining the constitutional guarantees of dignity, privacy, equality and decisional autonomy under Articles 14, 19, 21 and 25 of the Constitution.

Passed without meaningful debate

CJP has also criticised the legislative process through which the Maharashtra law was enacted. In its dissent note, the organisation argued that the Bill was introduced and passed with extraordinary haste, leaving little opportunity for meaningful public consultation or democratic scrutiny.

The Bill was introduced in the Maharashtra Assembly on March 13, 2026, passed by the Legislative Assembly on March 16, and cleared by the Legislative Council on March 17. CJP argued that the hurried passage of the law was particularly concerning because the Supreme Court is already examining the constitutional validity of similar legislation enacted by multiple states. Introducing another law of the same nature while constitutional challenges remain pending raises questions about legislative accountability and respect for judicial review.

The Maharashtra law comes amid a broader challenge before the Supreme Court against anti-conversion statutes across India. The proceedings, led by CJP, initially challenged laws enacted in Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Madhya Pradesh and Himachal Pradesh. The challenge was subsequently expanded to include laws enacted in Gujarat, Chhattisgarh, Haryana, Jharkhand and Karnataka.

The petitions argue that these laws violate:

• Article 25’s protection of freedom of conscience;
• Article 21’s guarantee of personal liberty and privacy;
• Article 14’s guarantee of equality.

The petitioners contend that the State may prohibit forced conversion, but cannot regulate voluntary conversion or require individuals to justify their faith choices before public authorities.

Courts have already warned against excessive state intervention

The constitutional concerns surrounding such laws are not new. In Evangelical Fellowship of India v. State of Himachal Pradesh, the Himachal Pradesh High Court struck down provisions of the Himachal Pradesh Freedom of Religion Act, 2006 requiring prior declaration before conversion. The Court held that the right to change one’s belief could not be restricted merely on the assumption that public order might be affected. Despite this clear course correction by a constitutional court, the same state re-enacted a similar law with the same provisions in august 2022. This is one of the key substantive points argued by the CJP in its constitutional challenge to the Himachal Pradesh law. Report may be read here. While the Indian National Congress (INC), the lead opposition party has come back to power in the state (December 2022), this law has not yet been repealed, close to four years later. Similar is the situation in the state of Karnataka, a state ruled by the INC since May 2023.

Despite this judicial warning, similar provisions have repeatedly resurfaced in newer anti-conversion laws. The Gujarat High Court and Madhya Pradesh High Court have also intervened against certain provisions of their respective state laws, particularly those involving interfaith marriages and mandatory declarations.

The Maharashtra government has defended the law as necessary to prevent exploitation and fraudulent conversions. However, the constitutional challenge is not about whether coercive conversion should be prohibited. It is about whether the State can create a system where every conversion is treated as requiring explanation, scrutiny and approval. A democratic Constitution protects the freedom to choose one’s faith precisely because such choices are deeply personal and cannot be determined by the State.

The complete dissent note may be read below:

[1] CJP had first, in December 2020-February 2021, filed petitions in the Supreme Court challenging the Uttar Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Madhya Pradesh and Himachal Pradesh laws passed earlier and thereafter, in 2023, amended their plea to include similar laws passed in Chhattisgarh, Gujarat, Haryana, Jharkhand, and Karnataka. CJP is the lead petitioner in this matter.

Related:

Allahabad HC flags misuse of UP Anti-Conversion Law, quashes FIR and rebukes ‘mimeographed’ complaints

35 civil society groups oppose Maharashtra’s proposed anti-conversion law, warn of threat to women’s autonomy and constitutional freedoms

‘Faith Is Not a Crime’: Mumbai’s Christians rise against Maharashtra’s proposed anti-conversion bill

Maharashtra’s Proposed Anti-Conversion Law: Manufacturing moral panic to criminalise personal choice

Supreme Court defers hearing in batch of petitions, led by CJP, challenging state Anti-Conversion laws; interim relief applications pending since April 2025v

Maharashtra’s Anti-Conversion Push: How organised street pressure, Hindutva mobilisation and a pending law threaten constitutional freedoms

The post Policing Autonomy & Faith: Maharashtra’s Anti-Conversion law gets President’s assent appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The judgment, delivered by Fourth Additional Sessions Judge Mukesh Nath, is significant not simply because it results in an acquittal, but because of the manner in which the prosecution’s case unravels under judicial scrutiny.

Far from identifying minor procedural lapses, the court records a chain of fundamental investigative failures: the majority of prosecution witnesses abandoned the case; the only eyewitness was introduced nearly two months after the incident without explanation and was absent from the FIR; no Test Identification Parade (TIP) was ever conducted despite the accused allegedly being part of a large mob; and forensic evidence failed to support one of the prosecution’s central allegations—that petrol bombs were used during the violence.

Read together, the findings expose a prosecution that, in the court’s assessment, failed to satisfy even the most basic evidentiary requirements necessary for a criminal conviction. The judgment also carries another uncomfortable fact. Before being acquitted, the accused had already spent between 462 and 827 days in custody, close to two years in some cases, raising broader questions about prolonged incarceration in riot prosecutions that ultimately fail for lack of evidence.

The prosecution alleged that the eleven Muslim men, along with several unidentified persons, formed an unlawful assembly during the communal violence that erupted in Khargone on April 10, 2022. According to the prosecution, the accused were part of a mob armed with stones, swords, sticks and petrol bombs that attacked Hindu homes in Bhatwadi locality, vandalised residential properties, burnt vehicles, trespassed into houses and endangered the lives of residents.

What this verdict also showcases is the frequent faultlines displayed by law enforcement during bouts of communal violence. Instead of dispassionate acts of detention and arrests, inherent majoritarian biases train actions only on males from the minority communities. In fact, Sabrangindia had on April 14, 2022 reported how it was the hate speech and provocations by offender Kapil Mishra who had been accused of inciting violence. This report may be read here. In fact Sabrangindia also reported on a viral video of hate-offender Kapil Mishra –then making the rounds on social media—in which Mishra is heard inciting communal hate in a speech he made on April 10, 2022 Ram Navami, around the same time that the Khargone violence took place 40 kms away. Reports on this brand of hate speech may be read here.

A case born out of one of 2022’s consequential communal flashpoints

The prosecution arose from the communal violence that erupted in Khargone on April 10, 2022, during a Ram Navami procession. The clashes quickly escalated into a politically charged incidents. Houses, shops and vehicles were damaged, police personnel, including the district Superintendent of Police, were injured, curfew was imposed, internet services were suspended and additional police forces were deployed across the district. What followed transformed the incident from a law-and-order issue into a national constitutional debate.

Within forty-eight hours of the violence, the Madhya Pradesh government launched a demolition drive targeting dozens of homes and commercial establishments allegedly linked to those accused of participating in the riots. Bulldozers rolled into predominantly Muslim neighbourhoods, demolishing structures that authorities claimed were illegally constructed.

Images of homes being razed spread across the country, prompting fierce criticism from civil liberties groups, constitutional scholars and opposition parties, who argued that the demolitions amounted to punishment without trial. The State, however, maintained that the structures violated municipal laws and denied carrying out any punitive exercise.

Notably, barely a day after communal clashes erupted during a Ram Navami procession in Madhya Pradesh’s Khargone, the district administration demolished 16 houses and 29 shops in five areas across the town. According to a report in Indian Express, MP’s Chief Minister Shivraj Singh Chouhan had said that “a claims tribunal” would be formed and action taken against rioters. His colleague, Home Minister Narottam Mishra issued a warning, saying, “Jis ghar se pathar aaye hain, us ghar ko hi patharon kaa dher banaenge (We will turn the houses from where the stones were pelted to a heap of rubble).”

Detailed reports from Sabrangindia may be read here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here.

The demolitions soon became one of the defining symbols of what came to be described as “bulldozer justice”—a practice that would later become the subject of repeated constitutional challenges before the Supreme Court.

Detailed report on the bulldozer judgment as well as the prevalence of the bulldozer’s misuse may be read here and here respectively.

Against this backdrop, the criminal prosecutions arising from the Khargone violence acquired significance well beyond the fate of individual accused persons. They became central to assessing whether the State’s extraordinary post-riot response rested on investigations capable of withstanding judicial scrutiny.

The present judgment offers one of the clearest judicial examinations of that question. In a detailed judgment delivered on July 27, Fourth Additional Sessions Judge Mukesh Nath concluded that while the prosecution successfully established that extensive rioting, arson and destruction of property had indeed occurred in Khargone’s Bhatwadi locality, it failed to prove that the eleven accused before the court were the perpetrators of those offences.

The judgment is significant not because it questions the occurrence of communal violence, but because it reiterates a foundational principle of criminal jurisprudence—that conviction must rest on legally admissible and reliable evidence establishing the guilt of identified accused persons, and not merely on proof that a crime took place.

Charges against the accused

As stated below the prosecution, the charge sheet, alleged that the eleven Muslim men, along with several unidentified persons, formed an unlawful assembly during the communal violence that erupted in Khargone on April 10, 2022. According to the prosecution, the accused were part of a mob armed with stones, swords, sticks and petrol bombs that attacked Hindu homes in Bhatwadi locality, vandalised residential properties, burnt vehicles, trespassed into houses and endangered the lives of residents.

Charges were framed under Sections 147, 148, 149, 336, 427, 435, 436 and 450 of the Indian Penal Code, along with Sections 3 and 4 of the Explosive Substances Act, 1908. The prosecution also alleged that the accused acted in furtherance of a common object, attracting the principle of vicarious liability under Section 149 IPC.

The FIR itself was registered on April 12, 2022, on the basis of multiple written complaints submitted by residents alleging attacks on their homes during the Ram Navami procession. The complainants alleged that members of the mob hurled stones and petrol bombs, set houses and motorcycles ablaze, destroyed household articles and looted valuables.

The prosecution established the violence—but not the perpetrators

One of the most striking aspects of the judgment is the distinction drawn by the Sessions Court between proving the occurrence of the offence and proving the identity of those responsible. The Court found that the prosecution had successfully established that widespread communal violence had occurred in Bhatwadi locality. The testimony of residents, seizure memos, spot inspections and damage assessment reports consistently demonstrated that houses were attacked, windows shattered, vehicles burnt and substantial property damage caused during the violence. The defence did not seriously dispute these aspects of the prosecution’s case.

The Court therefore accepted that a violent mob had attacked several residential properties and that the complainants had suffered significant losses. However, criminal liability required considerably more. The central issue before the Court, it held, was not whether communal violence occurred, but whether the prosecution had proved beyond reasonable doubt that these eleven accused were members of the mob responsible for those acts.

Dismantling of the evidence against the accused

Eight eyewitnesses abandoned the prosecution’s case: The prosecution examined thirteen witnesses during trial, of whom eleven were projected as eyewitnesses. The Court found that eight of those eleven witnesses completely failed to support the prosecution insofar as the identity of the accused was concerned. These witnesses, including complainants themselves, did not identify any of the accused before the Court, did not attribute any overt act to them and, according to the judgment, no incriminating material emerged against the accused even after the prosecution declared them hostile and cross-examined them.

Judge Nath observed that despite extensive questioning by the prosecution, these witnesses did not provide any evidence linking the accused persons to the alleged offences. Their testimony established only that violence had occurred—not who had committed it. This finding substantially weakened the prosecution’s case because many of these witnesses were themselves the victims whose homes had allegedly been attacked. The Court therefore held that the prosecution had failed to derive any evidentiary benefit from a substantial portion of its own witnesses.

The prosecution’s case ultimately rested on a single witness. With eight eyewitnesses failing to implicate the accused, the prosecution’s case effectively rested upon one witness—Vaishnavi Jain (PW-6). According to the prosecution, Vaishnavi witnessed the accused attacking houses, breaking doors, setting vehicles on fire and entering residential premises. She claimed to have identified all eleven accused in court and alleged that they were among those participating in the violence. The Court acknowledged that conviction can legally rest upon the testimony of a solitary witness. However, the decisive question was whether that testimony inspired confidence.

Far from treating the evidence of a sole eyewitness with suspicion merely because she was alone, the Court undertook an extensive examination of whether her testimony satisfied the standards of reliability required under criminal law. It ultimately concluded that it did not.

Prosecution’s sole eyewitness subjected to rigorous scrutiny: Having found that eight of the prosecution’s eleven eyewitnesses failed to implicate the accused, the Court turned to examine whether the testimony of the remaining witness, Vaishnavi Jain (PW-6), could independently sustain a conviction. The Court began by reiterating that there is no legal requirement that every criminal case must be supported by multiple eyewitnesses. Relying on the Supreme Court’s landmark decision in Vadivelu Thevar v. State of Madras (AIR 1957 SC 614), Judge Mukesh Nath observed that Section 134 of the Indian Evidence Act makes it clear that evidence must be weighed, not counted. A conviction can lawfully rest upon the testimony of a single witness if the Court finds that witness to be wholly reliable and trustworthy. Conversely, where the testimony is doubtful or falls into the category of “neither wholly reliable nor wholly unreliable,” courts are expected to seek corroboration before recording a conviction.

Thus, the Court did not reject Vaishnavi Jain’s evidence merely because she was the only eyewitness supporting the prosecution. Instead, it undertook an extensive assessment of whether her testimony inspired confidence. Ultimately, it concluded that it did not. One of the principal infirmities identified by the Court was that Vaishnavi Jain attributed a collective role to all eleven accused without identifying the specific acts allegedly committed by each individual.

According to her deposition, all eleven accused arrived armed with swords, sticks, stones and petrol bombs, vandalised houses, burnt vehicles, broke doors and entered residential premises. However, the Court observed that she did not specify which accused committed which act, nor did she distinguish the role of any individual despite attributing the entire incident to all eleven persons simultaneously.

The Court held that where criminal liability is sought to be fixed upon identified individuals, especially in a prosecution involving allegations of rioting and unlawful assembly, such sweeping and undifferentiated assertions require careful scrutiny. The absence of any individual attribution assumed greater significance when no other eyewitness corroborated her version.

Contradictions regarding the time and sequence of events: The Court also found substantial inconsistencies within Vaishnavi’s own testimony. In her examination-in-chief, she stated that around 3:00 p.m., the accused pelted stones at houses opposite her residence before leaving, and that they returned between 6:30 p.m. and 7:00 p.m., armed with weapons and petrol bombs, when they allegedly attacked houses and entered her residence. However, during cross-examination she stated that around 4:00 p.m., only three or four persons came, threw stones and left, while simultaneously admitting that she did not actually see those persons while they were throwing stones.

The Sessions Court held that these inconsistencies were not minor discrepancies arising from lapse of memory. Instead, they directly affected the prosecution’s narrative regarding when the attack occurred, how many persons were involved and whether the witness actually observed the assailants.

The Court found the basis of identification unreliable: Perhaps the most significant aspect of the judgment concerns the Court’s assessment of identification evidence. Vaishnavi claimed that although she did not know the accused by name, she recognised all eleven accused by face because she had frequently seen them sitting at a paan shop, puncture repair shop and neighbourhood square. The Court carefully examined this explanation against the surrounding evidence. It found several inconsistencies.

While Vaishnavi initially stated that the accused were residents of her locality, the evidence on record showed that the accused actually belonged to Miyaman Mohalla and Kalali Mohalla, whereas she resided in Bhatwadi locality. During cross-examination, she alternately claimed that they lived behind her house before admitting she did not know whether several accused resided in Miyaman Mohalla. She also accepted that the paan shop and puncture repair shop from which she allegedly recognised the accused were not visible from her residence and were not situated immediately adjacent to her house.

These contradictions, according to the Court, substantially weakened the very foundation of her claimed familiarity with the accused. If the witness neither knew the accused personally nor consistently established how she recognised them, the Court held that her in-court identification became difficult to accept as reliable.

Judge Nath therefore concluded that the basis of identification advanced by the witness was not sufficiently credible to safely sustain criminal conviction.

Material contradictions within the same family: The Court attached considerable importance to the fact that Vaishnavi’s testimony was contradicted by the evidence of her own father and brother, both of whom were also examined by the prosecution. According to Vaishnavi, all eleven accused participated in the attack.

Her brother Akash Jain (PW-10), however, testified that only four or five persons were involved in pelting stones at the house. More importantly, Akash stated that the assailants had covered their faces with cloth, because of which he could not identify them. He specifically stated that he was unable to recognise the persons who attacked his house.

Similarly, Vaishnavi’s father, Dinesh Jain (PW-7), admitted during cross-examination that the rioters had cloth tied over their faces. He further acknowledged that he had viewed the attackers only from a considerable distance and was unable to state who among them had thrown stones, committed arson or looted property. The Court observed that these inconsistencies were not peripheral.

If two members of the same family consistently stated that the assailants had concealed their faces, it became difficult to accept Vaishnavi’s assertion that she had clearly recognised all eleven accused by face during a rapidly unfolding riot situation. Accordingly, the Court held that these inter se contradictions among closely related witnesses significantly undermined the credibility of the prosecution’s only identifying eyewitness.

Identification from 500–600 metres found inherently improbable: The Court also carefully analysed the evidence of Dinesh Jain regarding identification. Although Dinesh stated that he recognised the accused in court, he simultaneously admitted that he had witnessed the incident from a distance of approximately 500 to 600 metres, had no prior personal acquaintance with the accused, and could not state who specifically had burnt the doors, thrown stones or committed looting.

Judge Nath observed that identification of persons within a large violent mob from such a distance was inherently unnatural, particularly where the witness himself admitted that the rioters had their faces covered. The Court therefore refused to treat Dinesh Jain’s testimony as reliable evidence establishing the identity of the accused. The cumulative effect of these contradictions, the Court held, was that the prosecution had failed to present a single eyewitness whose testimony could safely form the basis of conviction beyond reasonable doubt.

Unexplained delay in recording the sole eyewitness’s statement: Apart from the inconsistencies in Vaishnavi Jain’s testimony, the Court found the manner in which the investigation was conducted to be equally problematic. A significant factor that weighed against the prosecution was the unexplained delay of 51 days in recording the statement of its only eyewitness.

The incident occurred on April 10, 2022. However, Vaishnavi Jain’s statement under Section 161 of the Code of Criminal Procedure was recorded only on May 31, 2022. The Court noted that the prosecution offered no explanation whatsoever as to why the statement of a witness, who was ultimately projected as the principal eyewitness to the entire occurrence, was recorded nearly two months after the incident.

The Court observed that unexplained delays in recording the statement of a material eyewitness assume considerable importance in criminal trials because they create the possibility of embellishment, tutoring or afterthought. While delay alone may not necessarily render a witness unreliable, the absence of any explanation assumes significance when the witness becomes the sole basis for seeking conviction. The Sessions Court therefore treated the delay as one more circumstance casting doubt on the prosecution’s case rather than an isolated procedural irregularity.

Absence of the sole eyewitness was absent from every contemporaneous complaint: The Court also found it significant that none of the six written complaints submitted immediately after the violence referred to Vaishnavi Jain as an eyewitness. The prosecution case originated from multiple written complaints submitted on 12 April 2022, two days after the communal violence. These complaints formed the basis of the FIR.

Despite the detailed allegations contained in those complaints, not one complaint identified Vaishnavi Jain as someone who had personally witnessed the attack. Her name did not appear as an eyewitness in any of the written complaints, nor was she mentioned in the FIR that was subsequently registered on their basis.

The Court held that where an individual is later projected as the prosecution’s only direct eyewitness, the complete absence of any reference to that witness in the earliest version of events becomes a relevant circumstance while assessing credibility. Coupled with the unexplained 51-day delay in recording her statement, the omission strengthened the Court’s conclusion that her claim of being an eyewitness appeared doubtful.

Absence of a Test Identification Parade: Perhaps the most damaging investigative lapse identified by the Court was the complete absence of a Test Identification Parade (TIP). The Court noted that although the prosecution relied heavily on identification evidence, no witness was ever asked to identify the accused during the investigation.

Vaishnavi Jain identified the accused for the first time inside the courtroom. The Court observed that first-time identification in court ordinarily carries significantly less evidentiary value, particularly where the witness had not previously known the accused personally and where the incident involved a large, violent mob. In such cases, a properly conducted Test Identification Parade serves as an important investigative safeguard by testing the witness’s ability to identify the alleged perpetrators independently and without suggestion.

In the present case, however, no such exercise was undertaken. The Court therefore held that the prosecution had failed to establish how or on what basis the investigating agency concluded that the eleven accused were among the persons who participated in the violence.

No explanation for implicating five of the accused later: The Court also scrutinised the manner in which the accused were arrayed in the charge-sheet. While six accused were named in the FIR, five additional persons were subsequently chargesheeted. However, the prosecution failed to explain how these additional accused came to be identified during investigation. The Court records in its judgment that no witness identified them, no Test Identification Parade was conducted, no documentary or electronic evidence linked them to the crime, and the investigating officer did not explain the evidentiary basis on which these additional accused were implicated.

The Court therefore observed that there was no discernible investigative foundation for prosecuting these five individuals. More broadly, the Court found that the prosecution had failed to explain how, from a crowd estimated by witnesses themselves to consist of nearly fifty persons, investigators concluded that these eleven individuals, and no others, were responsible for the offences alleged.

Photographic evidence failed to implicate the accused: The prosecution also relied upon photographs extracted during investigation. However, the Court held that this evidence was of little assistance.

First, the photographs were not accompanied by a certificate under Section 65B of the Indian Evidence Act, affecting their admissibility as electronic evidence. Secondly, even assuming they were admissible, none of the accused were visible in the photographs. Accordingly, the Court held that the photographs merely depicted the aftermath of the violence and did not connect any of the accused with the commission of the offences.

Forensic evidence contradicted the prosecution’s allegation of petrol bombs: The prosecution consistently alleged that the mob had used petrol bombs to set fire to houses and vehicles. To substantiate this allegation, investigators seized broken glass bottles and burnt residue from various locations and forwarded the material to the State Forensic Science Laboratory at Sagar. However, the forensic examination did not support the prosecution’s narrative.

According to the FSL report, no residue of inflammable petroleum hydrocarbons—including petrol, diesel or kerosene—was detected in the seized material. The Court observed that this scientific evidence directly undermined one of the prosecution’s central allegations—that petrol bombs had been used during the attacks. While the Court did not hold that no arson had occurred, it concluded that the prosecution had failed to establish, through reliable scientific evidence, that explosive substances or petrol bombs had in fact been used by the accused. Consequently, the offences under the Explosive Substances Act also remained unproved beyond reasonable doubt.

Benefit of doubt and prolonged incarceration

Having analysed the evidence cumulatively, the Court concluded that the prosecution had failed to establish the identity and participation of the accused beyond reasonable doubt. Judge Mukesh Nath accordingly acquitted all eleven accused of offences under Sections 147, 148, 336, 427, 435, 436 and 450 read with Section 149 IPC, as well as Sections 3 and 4 of the Explosive Substances Act, extending to them the benefit of doubt.

The judgment also records that the accused had already undergone substantial periods of incarceration during investigation and trial, ranging from 462 days to 827 days before being released on bail. Two of the accused remained in custody for over 827 days, while several others spent well over a year and a half in prison before trial concluded.

A judgment reaffirming the burden of proof in riot prosecutions

The judgment is notable for the distinction it draws between proving the occurrence of violence and proving the criminal liability of identified individuals. The Court expressly accepted that serious communal violence, arson and large-scale destruction occurred in Khargone’s Bhatwadi locality on 10 April 2022. What remained unproved, however, was whether the eleven accused standing trial were members of the mob responsible for those offences.

Rather than questioning the occurrence of the violence itself, the acquittal rests on familiar principles of criminal law: that suspicion, however grave, cannot substitute proof; that identification evidence must withstand careful scrutiny; that investigative lapses can materially weaken a prosecution; and that conviction must be founded on evidence establishing guilt beyond reasonable doubt.

The judgment also arrives against the broader backdrop of the 2022 Khargone violence, which was followed by controversial demolition drives targeting properties alleged to belong to persons involved in the riots. One such challenge, filed by a Khargone resident who alleged that his property was demolished because he belonged to the Muslim community, remains pending before the Madhya Pradesh High Court. The petitioner has contended that the demolition formed part of the State’s post-riot crackdown and relied upon public statements by senior government functionaries attributing responsibility for the violence to members of the Muslim community.

By ultimately acquitting the accused after finding fundamental deficiencies in the prosecution’s evidence, the Sessions Court’s decision underscores that even in prosecutions arising from communal violence, constitutional guarantees of fair trial and the criminal law’s insistence on proof beyond reasonable doubt remain the governing standards.

Court distinguished proof of participation from proof of guilt

An important thread running through the judgment is the distinction between establishing that communal violence occurred and proving the participation of specific individuals in that violence. The Court repeatedly observed that there was little dispute that rioting, stone-pelting, vandalism and arson had taken place in Khargone on 10 April 2022. Multiple witnesses described attacks on residential properties, damaged houses and burnt vehicles. However, the Court emphasised that these facts, by themselves, could not justify convicting the eleven accused unless their individual involvement was established through reliable evidence.

This distinction is central to criminal jurisprudence. The judgment reiterates that criminal courts are concerned not merely with whether an offence occurred, but whether the prosecution has proved, beyond reasonable doubt, that the persons standing trial committed that offence. The existence of a violent mob, therefore, did not automatically establish the culpability of every individual arraigned before the Court.

The Court found the prosecution failed to establish unlawful assembly against the accused

The prosecution invoked Sections 147 and 148 IPC (rioting), along with Section 149 IPC, which creates vicarious liability for every member of an unlawful assembly acting in prosecution of its common object. However, before Section 149 can be invoked, the prosecution must first establish that the accused were themselves members of the unlawful assembly. The Sessions Court held that this foundational requirement remained unproved.

Since the prosecution failed to reliably identify the accused as members of the alleged mob, the statutory presumption of collective liability under Section 149 could not be invoked. Consequently, the charges under Sections 336, 427, 435 and 436 read with Section 149 also failed. Although the judgment does not elaborate separately on the legal ingredients of Section 149, its reasoning effectively reflects the settled principle that vicarious criminal liability cannot arise unless membership of the unlawful assembly itself is first established.

The Court repeatedly criticised the investigation rather than merely the evidence

While acquitting the accused, the Court’s criticism extended beyond witness testimony to the manner in which the investigation itself was conducted.

Throughout the judgment, Judge Mukesh Nath identified several investigative deficiencies:

• failure to explain the delay in lodging the FIR;
• failure to explain the 51-day delay in recording the statement of the prosecution’s principal eyewitness;
• failure to conduct any Test Identification Parade;
• failure to explain how five additional accused were implicated despite not being named in the FIR;
• failure to produce evidence establishing the basis on which investigators selected these eleven individuals from a crowd estimated to comprise around fifty persons.

Rather than viewing these lapses in isolation, the Court assessed their cumulative effect. It held that these deficiencies substantially undermined the prosecution’s ability to establish guilt beyond reasonable doubt. The judgment therefore illustrates how procedural shortcomings during investigation can have a decisive impact on the prosecution’s case at trial.

The judgment carefully applied the law on sole eyewitness testimony

A notable feature of the judgment is that the Court did not insist upon corroboration merely because there was only one eyewitness. Instead, it correctly applied the principles laid down by the Supreme Court in Vadivelu Thevar v. State of Madras. The Court recognised three categories of witnesses identified in that decision:

• wholly reliable;
• wholly unreliable; and
• neither wholly reliable nor wholly unreliable.

Having analysed Vaishnavi Jain’s testimony in detail, the Sessions Court concluded that it fell into the third category. Her evidence was not rejected outright, but the Court found that it suffered from material inconsistencies, lacked independent corroboration and was surrounded by circumstances that rendered it unsafe to rely upon as the sole basis for conviction. The judgment therefore reflects a cautious application of established evidentiary principles rather than the creation of any new legal standard.

A reminder that criminal trials test evidence—not public narratives

Although the judgment is confined to the evidence led during trial, it inevitably unfolds against the larger backdrop of one of Madhya Pradesh’s most contentious episodes of communal violence. The Khargone violence was followed by sweeping police action, multiple criminal prosecutions and demolition drives targeting properties alleged to belong to the Muslim individuals involved in the violence.

Against this backdrop, the acquittal does not amount to a judicial finding that no violence occurred or that no offences were committed. Instead, it underscores a narrower but constitutionally significant proposition: that criminal courts adjudicate individual guilt on the basis of legally admissible evidence, and not on the basis of the broader public narrative surrounding communal violence. It also raises the fundamental issue of a taint or bias on part of law enforcement agencies that, in India, during the charged atmosphere during communal violence, bow to majoritarian state or non-state pressures and arrest or penalise only men from minority communities.

Beyond the evidentiary deficiencies that led to the acquittal, the judgment also brings into sharp focus the human cost of a prosecution that ultimately failed to meet the threshold of proof required in criminal law. The eleven accused remained in judicial custody for periods ranging from 462 to 827 days during the course of the investigation and trial before being acquitted after the prosecution failed to establish their guilt beyond reasonable doubt.

The acquittal therefore raises broader constitutional concerns about the protection of individual liberty within the criminal justice system. Article 21 of the Constitution guarantees that no person shall be deprived of personal liberty except according to procedure established by law, while the presumption of innocence remains a foundational principle of criminal jurisprudence until guilt is established through a fair trial. Where individuals spend years in incarceration before a court concludes that the prosecution failed to prove even their identification beyond reasonable doubt, the case illustrates the profound consequences that deficient investigations can have on these constitutional guarantees.

The complete judgment may be read below.

Related:

2022: A year when Bulldozer became a ‘lawful’ means of punishment

Demolitions of homes of Gujjar Bakerwals in Jammu unconstitutional & violation of FRA 2006: AIUFWP

Rebuild or Compensate: Nagpur HC confronts NMC over ‘bulldozer’ demolition in riot case

Demolition of Adivasi homes at Sanjay Gandhi National Park on Republic Day

Faiz-e-Ilahi Masjid, Turkman Gate: A court-ordered demolition, midnight policing, stone-pelting, arrests, and the ongoing legal battle

The post Khargone riots case collapses: Four years after Ram Navami violence, MP court acquits 11 accused, finds prosecution failed to establish guilt appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Jakira Bibi and Naseruddin Sheikh

For Naseruddin Sheikh and Jakira Bibi, an elderly couple from Shernagar village under Agomani Police Station in Dhubri district, that question arrived in the form of notices from the Foreigners Tribunal. The notices did not merely initiate legal proceedings; they brought an extraordinary degree of fear into the ordinary life of a family that had spent generations rooted in Assam.

The allegation against them was that they had entered India illegally from Bangladesh on or after March 25, 1971. The consequence of such an allegation is immense. For a person of limited means, an appearance before a Foreigners Tribunal can mean confronting a legal system that demands historical documents, family linkage, oral evidence and a coherent explanation of one’s identity and residence, often going back decades. The burden is particularly heavy for those who are elderly, poor, uneducated or physically unwell.

Naseruddin was an ageing handcart puller whose life had been spent in physical labour. Jakira was an elderly woman suffering from several health problems who had spent her life caring for her family. Neither possessed the resources to comfortably navigate a prolonged legal battle.

The couple therefore faced something far larger than two legal cases. They faced the possibility that the country in which they been born and lived, could question their allegiance and their lives could suddenly become a question mark.

Their story, however, is also a story of legal intervention, documentary evidence and persistence. With the assistance of the intrepid para-legal and legal team of the Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP), the couple was able to place their evidence before the Foreigners Tribunal. After examining the materials and testimony presented in the respective proceedings, the Tribunals ultimately declared both Naseruddin Sheikh and Jakira Bibi “Not Foreigner.”

The two orders are significant not only because they brought relief to an elderly couple but also because they demonstrate how citizenship-related proceedings can turn on the careful reconstruction of family history, legacy linkage and documentary continuity—and how access to quality and sensitive legal assistance can be critical when ordinary citizens are required to defend themselves against allegations that challenge their very belonging. The final order in Naseruddin’s case is dated May 8, 2025, while the order in Jakira’s case was pronounced on November 1, 2025. It took the Assam team of Citizens for Justice and Peace, that provided this quality legal aid, eight months in accessing the order of the Foreigners Tribunal.

Foreigners Tribunal Court, Dhurbi

Naseruddin Sheikh: A man who spent his life pulling a handcart, now forced to defend his Indian identity

Naseruddin Sheikh is now close to 76 years old. His life has been shaped by hard work rather than privilege. Born on January 12, 1950, he belongs to Bidyadabri village in the Dhubri region and is the son of late Basaruddin Sheikh and grandson of Sukur Ali @ Khasar.

He never received an education and, from a young age, had to depend on physical labour for survival. For nearly three decades, he worked as a handcart puller in Agomani market, transporting vegetables, rice and other goods. At different times, he also worked as a daily wage labourer, taking whatever work was available to support his family.

His life was not one of comfort, but it was a life firmly rooted in the place he knew as home. Together with his wife, Jakira, he raised six children—three sons and three daughters. While he worked outside, she managed the household and cared for the family.

Today, Naseruddin’s body bears the consequences of decades of physical labour. Yet, even at an advanced age, he sometimes continues to pull his handcart because the economic circumstances of his family leave little room for retirement. It was against this background that the Foreigners Tribunal proceedings began.

The case against Naseruddin was registered as FT-9/113/GKJ/2019. The reference originated from the Superintendent of Police (Border), Dhubri, following a citizenship verification process and raised the question of whether Naseruddin was an illegal migrant or foreigner of the post-1971 stream or any other relevant stream. The Tribunal’s order records that Naseruddin appeared in response to notice, filed a written statement, produced documents and contested the allegation that he was a foreigner.

For Naseruddin, the proceedings were frightening not simply because of their legal implications but because of the practical reality of defending himself. A man whose daily existence depended upon manual labour was suddenly required to reconstruct his family history through documents and testimony. The cost of legal representation, travel to court and the loss of working days could have placed an unbearable burden upon him.

The legal system, however, required him to answer the allegation with evidence. That is where the intervention of CJP became crucial.

CJP Team Assam along with Jakira Bibi and Naseruddin Sheikh

When the CJP team came to his door: After receiving the notice, Naseruddin did not know where to turn. He was confronted with a legal proceeding whose consequences he could not fully understand and whose financial demands he could not easily meet. It was at this point that he came into contact with CJP Community Volunteer Ilias Sarkar, who connected him with the wider CJP team. State In-Charge Nanda Ghosh, Advocate Iskandar Azad and Community Volunteer Habibul Bepari became involved in assisting the couple.

The team visited Naseruddin’s home, examined the available records and began working to understand the documentary history of his family. This intervention was important because citizenship proceedings of this nature often require something that is not easy for ordinary people to provide on their own: the ability to transform scattered documents from different periods into a legally coherent narrative.

A voter list from decades ago may establish the presence of an ancestor. A later electoral roll may establish continuity. A land deed may support residence or possession of property. A witness may explain the relationship between generations. None of these pieces necessarily tells the whole story in isolation. Their significance emerges when they are connected into a credible chain of evidence.

For Naseruddin, the legal task was therefore not simply to produce an Aadhaar card or an EPIC card. The more fundamental challenge was to demonstrate the historical continuity of his identity and his connection to his family and to India.

CJP took responsibility for assisting him in the proceedings, and Advocate Iskandar Azad represented him before the Tribunal. The support gave Naseruddin something that he had been missing since the notice arrived: the confidence that he would not have to face the legal process alone.

As Naseruddin later recalled, “After getting the notice we did not understand where to go. Even with papers, people become foreigners here. So the fear remains, but after you came we got courage.”

His words capture the psychological reality behind the legal case. The presence of legal assistance did not merely provide representation; it restored a measure of confidence to a man who had suddenly been made to question his own security in the country where he had spent his entire life.

The legal strategy: The central challenge in Naseruddin’s case was to establish his connection with his family lineage and demonstrate the continuity of his presence in India. The evidence presented before the Tribunal therefore went back across generations.

One of the important pieces of evidence was a 1966 electoral roll of Bhamandanga Part-II, in which the name of Gerpu Sheikh, son of Sukur Ali, was recorded. Naseruddin identified Gerpu Sheikh as his paternal uncle and Sukur Ali as his grandfather. The Tribunal also considered a 1966 electoral roll from Jaldhoya, where the name of Naseruddin’s father, Basiruddin, was recorded.

The importance of these records lay in their historical character. They were not documents created for the purpose of the present litigation; rather, they were old electoral records that predated the proceedings by several decades. Their evidentiary value, therefore, arose from the fact that they could potentially connect Naseruddin’s present identity to members of his family who were recorded as voters in the relevant period.

The case was further supported by electoral rolls from 1994, 1997, 2005, 2015 and 2022, reflecting the names of Naseruddin and his wife in successive electoral records. The Tribunal’s order records these documents as part of the 13 exhibits produced by Naseruddin in support of his claim.

The defence also relied upon Registered Deed No. 473 dated 24 January 1976, together with Naseruddin’s EPIC, PAN and Aadhaar documents. A licence issued by the Agomani Gaon Panchayat for operating a push cart and certificates issued by the relevant Gram Panchayat were also placed on record.

The evidence was not confined to documents. Naseruddin himself appeared as DW-1 and gave evidence regarding his birth, his father and grandfather, the family’s movements between Assam and West Bengal, his father’s death, his subsequent residence and his own connection with the places in which he lived. His relative Yashomuddin Munshi was also examined as a defence witness.

The Tribunal therefore had before it a combination of historical electoral records, later electoral continuity, land documentation, identity records and oral testimony. Legally, the importance of this combination lies in the way the evidence was intended to work together. The case was not based upon the proposition that any single document, by itself, conclusively established citizenship. Rather, the defence sought to establish a consistent narrative of family lineage and residence through multiple sources of evidence spanning different periods. That approach was central to the Tribunal’s assessment.

Why the evidence was found sufficient in Naseruddin’s case: The Tribunal’s reasoning is particularly important from a legal perspective because it did not simply list the documents and declare the case proved. It examined the documentary record alongside the oral evidence.

The Tribunal scrutinised the 1966 electoral roll of Bhamandanga Part-II and the corresponding electoral evidence from West Bengal. It considered the oral evidence concerning Gerpu Sheikh and Basiruddin, whom Naseruddin identified as members of his paternal family. The Tribunal also noted that Naseruddin’s own testimony supported his existence in India from his birth in 1950.

The Tribunal also considered Naseruddin’s account of his father’s movements between Assam and West Bengal. His evidence was that his father had moved to Jaldhoya in Cooch Behar in the mid-1950s, remained there for a period and had cast his vote in the West Bengal electoral roll, before returning to Assam and subsequently residing in the Bhamandanga area. Naseruddin further described the circumstances following his father’s death and his own later residence in Shernagar.

This is legally significant because the Tribunal was required to assess not only whether individual documents existed but whether the overall evidence formed a credible and consistent account. The Tribunal ultimately found that the historical electoral evidence, together with the oral testimony, supported the existence of Naseruddin in India from birth and established the parental linkage relied upon by him. The evidence of his defence witness was also considered in support of his version.

The significance of the decision, therefore, lies in the Tribunal’s acceptance of a cumulative evidentiary approach. Historical voter records, family linkage, oral testimony and subsequent documentary continuity were considered together rather than in isolation.

The final conclusion was unequivocal: Naseruddin did not appear to be a foreigner of the post-1971 stream or of any other stream, and the reference against him was answered in the negative. In practical terms, Naseruddin Sheikh was declared “Not Foreigner.”

For a man who had spent his entire life working with his hands, the order represented the end of an extraordinary legal ordeal. It meant that the elderly handcart puller who had always said, “I was born here, my father was born here, my grandfather was also born here,” had succeeded in placing before the Tribunal the evidence necessary to support that claim.

The complete order may be read below:

Jakira Bibi: When an ailing elderly woman had to defend the home she had always known

While Naseruddin fought his legal battle, his wife, Jakira Bibi, was facing a Foreigners Tribunal proceeding of her own. Jakira is above 60 years old and suffers from several health problems. Her life, like her husband’s, has been one of family responsibilities and modest means. She was born on July 12, 1964 in Shernagar village, the same region where her family had long been rooted.

Her father was Bataullah Sheikh, also referred to in the proceedings as Batasulla Sheikh, and her mother was Jelmoti Bibi. Her family history, as presented before the Tribunal, extended through historical electoral records and NRC legacy data.

Jakira’s case was registered as FT-9/112/GKJ/2019. The reference alleged that she had entered India illegally from Bangladesh on or after March 25, 1971. The order records that the reference originated from the Superintendent of Police (Border), Dhubri, and that Jakira contested the allegation, asserting that she was an Indian citizen by birth and that her parents and family were rooted in Assam.

For Jakira, the proceedings came with a particularly heavy physical burden. She was an elderly woman living with health problems, while her husband was himself an ageing daily wage worker. The prospect of travelling, collecting documents and participating in litigation was therefore not merely inconvenient—it was a serious hardship. But the evidence in her case was substantial.

Her defence sought to establish her identity through her parents, her family lineage and her own long history of residence and participation in the electoral process.

The evidence in Jakira’s case: The legal case presented on behalf of Jakira was built around a combination of historical electoral records, family linkage, land documentation and oral evidence. The Tribunal considered a 1958 electoral roll of Shernagar in which the names of Jakira’s parents, Batasullah Sheikh and Jelmoti Bibi, were recorded. The defence also relied upon a 1966 electoral roll, which reflected the name of her mother along with her stepfather, Goher Ali. Later electoral records from 1985, 1994, 1997, 2005, 2015 and 2022 were produced to demonstrate continuity of the family’s presence and Jakira’s own electoral history.

The defence further relied upon 1951 NRC legacy data, which was cited in support of the family linkage, as well as Registered Sale Deed No. 456 dated 20 January 1983, relating to ancestral land. Jakira’s own EPIC, PAN and Aadhaar documents were also placed on record. Importantly, the case did not rest solely upon documentary evidence. Jakira herself appeared as DW-1, while her elder brother Jahir Ali appeared as DW-2 to support the family linkage and her account of the family’s presence in India.

The Tribunal’s order records that Jakira produced as many as 16 exhibits in support of her claim, including historical and subsequent electoral rolls, the 1983 registered deed, identity documents and the identity documents of her brother. The evidentiary structure of the case is important.

The older electoral records were relevant to establishing the presence of Jakira’s parents and family in the earlier period. The later electoral records helped demonstrate continuity. The land deed supported the family’s connection to property in the area. Her own testimony and that of her brother addressed the relationship between the generations. Thus, as in Naseruddin’s case, the legal significance lay in the cumulative effect of the evidence.

The legal significance of Jakira’s victory: The Tribunal’s order makes an explicit reference to Section 9 of the Foreigners Act, 1946, observing that the burden was upon the proceedee to prove her nationality and that, accordingly, the liability of the prosecution was dispensed with.

In a Foreigners Tribunal proceeding, the legal question is not merely whether a person possesses contemporary identity documents. The person proceeded against must establish the case put forward regarding their nationality and status in accordance with the applicable legal framework. That makes historical evidence especially important when the allegation concerns illegal entry after the March 25, 1971 cut-off.

Jakira’s case therefore required her to establish more than her present-day identity. Her evidence sought to demonstrate her familial and historical connection to Assam, beginning with the electoral presence of her parents and continuing through her own life and electoral records.

The Tribunal examined the historical voter lists and the oral evidence of Jakira and her brother. It noted that her father and mother had cast votes in Assam and that the relevant electoral records supported the defence version. The Tribunal also considered the subsequent electoral rolls in which Jakira and her husband were recorded as voters.

The Tribunal further noted that the Election Office, Dhubri, had confirmed the authenticity of the exhibited electoral rolls. This was an important corroborative element because it strengthened the evidentiary reliability of the historical electoral records relied upon by the defence.

The Tribunal also considered the oral evidence of Jakira’s brother, Jahir Ali, regarding her paternal linkage. His testimony was treated as corroborating Jakira’s own evidence, and the Tribunal found that the parental linkage with Batasullah Sheikh had been established adequately.

The legal significance of this reasoning lies in the Tribunal’s reliance on multiple mutually supporting forms of evidence. The historical electoral records established the presence of the family; the later rolls demonstrated continuity; the land record supported the family’s connection to the area; and the oral evidence provided the relational bridge linking Jakira to her parents.

The Tribunal ultimately found that Jakira was a descendant of genuine Indian parents and that she had successfully discharged the burden placed upon her. She was declared “Not Foreigner.”

The complete order may be read below:

What triggered the proceedings against them?

The question of how a person first comes to be referred to a Foreigners Tribunal is an important part of every citizenship case. The legal battle before the Tribunal is only one stage of the process. Before that, there must be a basis for the initial reference and the decision to question the person’s nationality.

In the case of Jakira Bibi, the reference was originally forwarded by the Superintendent of Police (B), Dhubri, through SP (Border) I(M)DT Case No. 2389/98. The order records that the reference was made on the basis of a doubt regarding her nationality, with the purpose of determining whether she was or was not an illegal migrant. The matter was subsequently re-numbered before Foreigners Tribunal No. 2, Dhubri as F.T. Case No. 3494/GKJ/2011, under the provisions of the Foreigners Act, 1946, read with the Foreigners (Tribunals) Order, 1964.

In Naseruddin Sheikh’s case, the order provides a somewhat more specific description of the origin of the reference. It states that the case was originally forwarded by the Superintendent of Police (B), Dhubri, Assam, vide IM(D)T Case No. 2388/1998, on the basis of a report made by the Local Verification Officer for determination of his citizenship. The case was initially registered before the Foreigners Tribunal No. 2, Dhubri and was later transferred to the present Tribunal following the constitution of additional Tribunals.

The order further records that, upon consideration, the Tribunal found “sufficient grounds to proceed” and accordingly issued notice to Naseruddin, providing him an opportunity to show cause in respect of the matter. These details are significant because they bring the question of the “first cause of action” into focus.

In Naseruddin’s case, the order specifically refers to a Local Verification Officer’s report as the basis for the original reference for determination of his citizenship. In Jakira’s case, the order states that the reference arose from a doubt regarding her nationality. The documents, however, as quoted above, do not themselves set out the substantive contents of the Local Verification Officer’s report in Naseruddin’s case or explain in detail what specific material gave rise to the doubt regarding Jakira’s nationality.

Two Cases, One Common Lesson: Citizenship proceedings are often about reconstructing a life through evidence

The cases of Naseruddin Sheikh and Jakira Bibi are legally distinct proceedings, but their evidentiary journeys reveal a common pattern. In both cases, the defence had to reconstruct a family history that stretched back decades. In both, historical electoral rolls played an important role, electoral records helped demonstrate continuity, and oral testimony was used to establish family relationships and explain the documentary record. And in both, the evidence was considered not as isolated pieces but as part of a larger narrative of identity, ancestry and residence.

In citizenship proceedings, the strength of a case may lie not in one document but in the consistency between several independent sources of evidence. A historical electoral roll may establish the presence of a parent or grandparent. A later electoral roll may demonstrate continuity. A land document may reinforce residence and family connection. A witness may explain the relationship between individuals appearing in different records.

The value of legal representation, therefore, is not limited to arguing before the Tribunal. It also lies in identifying which documents matter, tracing family linkage, locating historical records and presenting them in a manner that allows the Tribunal to assess the evidence as a coherent whole. For Naseruddin and Jakira, the CJP team’s intervention helped transform a collection of old documents and family memories into a structured legal defence. That is where access to justice becomes particularly important.

The human cost behind the case numbers

Behind FT-9/113/GKJ/2019 and FT-9/112/GKJ/2019 were not merely two case files. There was an elderly man who had spent his life pulling a handcart to feed his family. There was an elderly woman who was already battling illness. There were six children whose parents were suddenly living under the shadow of a citizenship proceeding.

There was a family that had to search through decades of records to prove a history that had always been part of their everyday lives. The legal proceedings also reveal the disproportionate impact that such litigation can have on people living in poverty.

For Naseruddin, appearing in court could mean losing the day’s earnings. For Jakira, the physical strain of participating in proceedings was compounded by her health problems. For both, the financial cost of engaging a lawyer could have been beyond their means. This is why legal aid in citizenship proceedings is not simply a matter of convenience. It can determine whether a vulnerable person is able to meaningfully participate in the legal process.

A person may possess relevant documents but not know which ones are legally significant. They may have a family connection but lack the ability to explain it in the form required by a legal proceeding. They may have old electoral records but not understand how those records can establish a historical linkage. Legal assistance can bridge that gap. In Naseruddin and Jakira’s cases, that bridge ultimately helped them present their evidence before the Tribunal.

The day the order came home

On July 18, the CJP team visited the couple’s home to deliver copies of the order. The team included Advocate Iskandar Azad, Office Driver Asikul Hussain, Community Volunteers Ilias Sarkar (Rabbi), Habibul Bepari, Deep Ghosh and Ilias Rahman, along with State In-Charge Nanda Ghosh. This time, they did not arrive with another notice; they came carrying the order.

For the couple, the moment represented the end of months of uncertainty and fear.  Naseruddin had feared that the proceedings might eventually lead to detention. Jakira had endured the physical and emotional burden of litigation despite her health problems. Together, they had lived through the uncertainty of not knowing whether the country they had always called home would continue to recognise them as belonging to it. When the order were placed in their hands, the relief was overwhelming.

Naseruddin recalled the terror he had experienced when the notice first arrived and how the support of CJP had given him the courage to continue. Jakira expressed her gratitude through tears, remembering how the team had come to their home, helped organise their documents and ensured that they had legal representation. Their words reveal something that legal orders alone cannot capture.

A favourable order may end a proceeding, but it cannot immediately erase the fear created by the proceeding itself. The couple had won, but the memory of having been forced to defend their belonging would remain.

Beyond Two Victories: The larger citizenship question

The legal victory of Naseruddin and Jakira is deeply significant to them and their family. But their cases also raise broader questions about how citizenship proceedings affect ordinary people, particularly those who live on the margins of society.

A person may have lived in a village for decades and still be required to reconstruct their family history through records that may be more than half a century old. Historical documents may contain variations in names or spellings. Families may have moved between districts or across state boundaries. Electoral records may exist in different places. Land may have been acquired, sold or requisitioned. All of these factors can make the process of establishing continuity complex.

The two cases demonstrate why citizenship proceedings cannot be viewed purely as administrative exercises. They involve questions of identity, family history, dignity and belonging. They also raise crucial questions of maintainability, accountability and mala fide by authorities, unused to being questioned on these foundational aspects.

The legal orders also demonstrate the importance of the evidentiary process. In both cases, the Tribunals considered the documentary record alongside oral evidence and assessed whether the evidence, taken as a whole, was sufficient to discharge the applicable burden.

In Naseruddin’s case, the Tribunal accepted the evidentiary chain connecting him to his paternal family and his presence in India. In Jakira’s case, the Tribunal accepted the evidence establishing her parental linkage and the family’s historical presence in Assam.

The outcomes therefore underline the importance of access to legal assistance, preservation of historical records and the careful presentation of evidence. At the same time, the emotional experiences of the couple remind us that the human consequences of citizenship proceedings extend far beyond the courtroom. For the poor and elderly, the process itself can become a source of profound anxiety. The question, therefore, is not only whether justice can ultimately be obtained. It is also whether vulnerable people have the support necessary to reach justice in the first place.

From Fear to Dignity: The meaning of “not foreigner”

For Naseruddin Sheikh and Jakira Bibi, being declared “Not Foreigner” means more than winning a legal case. It means that the fear and uncertainty they lived with after receiving the notices have finally come to an end.

The judgments have brought them relief and restored their sense of security. The evidence they collected, the family records they preserved and the testimony they gave were accepted by the Tribunals.

Naseruddin is still the elderly man who spent decades pulling a handcart in Agomani market. Jakira is still the woman who devoted her life to caring for her family. But now, they can return to their home without the fear that once followed them. Their story is about belonging, but it is also about the importance of having the chance to be heard and to present one’s evidence before the law. For both, the journey began with fear. It continued through old electoral rolls, land records, family documents and witness testimony, supported by legal assistance and the determination to prove their history. And it ended with two words that brought them immense relief: “Not Foreigner.”

or CJP, the victory of Naseruddin Sheikh and Jakira Bibi is not the end of the struggle, but a reminder of why access to justice and legal support remain so important for Assam’s poor and marginalised communities. The CJP team says it will continue to stand with those whose citizenship and dignity are challenged, with the hope that no Indian will ever have to face the fear of proving that they belong to their own country.

Today, Naseruddin and Jakira can finally smile without the shadow of the notices hanging over them. After a long journey of fear, uncertainty and legal struggle, they can return to their home with renewed confidence and say what they have always believed: “We are Indian.”

 Related:

Another CJP Victory: Barpeta Tribunal declares Alam Khan ‘not a foreigner’

When a narrow reading of documents decide citizenship: GHC in Aminul Hoque

‘Fairness & reason ‘: SC rules that due process is a must for citizenship determination

Gauhati High Court upholds foreigner declaration, rejects mental illness plea

When a Spelling Error Can Cost Citizenship: Supreme Court stays deportation of five Assam women

The post The country they called home, the identity they had to defend appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Mohd Junaid Was Arranging Foods And Water At CJP Protest Since Day One.
जंतर मंतर प्रोटेस्ट में पहिले दिन से प्रदर्शनकारियों को खाना बांटने में सहयोग करने वाले मोहम्मद जुनैद भाई…@abhijeet_dipke @CJP_for_India @Cockroachisback pic.twitter.com/mpTcEEv44p

— khalid Chougle (@ChougleKhalid) July 25, 2026

मुहम्मद जुनैद के घर वालों को सिर्फ इसलिए पुलिस ने उठा लिया था, क्योंकि Mohammad Junaid ने जंतर मंतर में प्रदर्शनकारी छात्रों को 34 दिनों से खाना खिला रहे थे, पानी पिला रहे थे!

घर वालो का आधार कार्ड, पासपोर्ट, सब ज़ब्त कर लिया था पुलिस ने!

इस सरकार को हिन्दू-मुस्लिम की एकता नहीं… pic.twitter.com/QwU7BSXEEy

— Sadaf Afreen صدف (@s_afreen7) July 26, 2026

देश भर के छात्रों की सेवा के लिये लगातार मौजूद रहने वाले जुनैद को डिटेन करना और उनको परेशान करना इस सिस्टम का सबसे शर्मनाक चेहरा था, देश भर के लोग अपने अपने स्तर पर बच्चों की सेवा कर रहे थे, जुनैद ने भी इंसानियत के नाते छात्रों की मदद की।
सरकार से अनुरोध है कि ऑंदोलन में लोगों की… pic.twitter.com/vJ3GJW03aY

— Imran Pratapgarhi (@ShayarImran) July 27, 2026

The 26-year-old is a law graduate and a judicial services aspirant, and was not among the movement’s organisers. According to the petition he has now filed before the Supreme Court, he neither held any official position nor helped shape the protest’s strategy. His role was considerably simpler: feed people. Yet by the final week of July, the volunteer who had become known for distributing food had himself become one of the protest’s biggest stories, alleging illegal detention, intimidation and harassment of his family by police—a set of claims that are now before the Supreme Court.

The volunteer behind the community kitchen

Malik says he first arrived at Jantar Mantar after noticing that students camping at the protest lacked even basic drinking water in Delhi’s summer heat. As he told India Today, what began with a table of water bottles and biscuits gradually evolved into a volunteer-run kitchen serving tea, juice and food packets around the clock. The operation, he insisted, relied not on institutional funding but on ordinary people bringing supplies or contributing money for meals.

“People come on their own. Some bring food, others bring water. Our work is simply to organise everything and make sure nobody goes hungry,” he told India Today.

Over the next 35 days, according to his Supreme Court plea, Malik coordinated food and water distribution every day beginning June 20, 2026. Videos of the community kitchen spread widely across social media, earning him praise from students, volunteers and even “leaders” of the CJP, who publicly thanked him during the protest. For many following the agitation online, he became “the man feeding the students.”

The night everything changed  

That visibility, Malik now claims, also drew unwanted attention. As reported by LiveLaw, his petition states that after media coverage of the community kitchen, police repeatedly became interested in a single question: Who was paying for the food? According to Malik, the answer never changed. The meals, he says, were financed through public donations, volunteers and supporters who either transferred money or directly supplied food and water. There was no central financier.

According to Malik’s petition, the turning point came shortly after midnight on July 24. Having visited Ram Manohar Lohia Hospital for an anti-rabies injection after a dog bite, he says he was stopped while returning by men who identified themselves as Delhi Police officers. In interviews with India Today and The Lallantop, Malik alleged that he and others accompanying him were blindfolded, their phones seized and taken to an undisclosed location.

His petition before the Supreme Court provides a more detailed account. As per the LiveLaw report, he alleges he remained in police custody through the night, was compelled to unlock his mobile phone, had its contents examined, and was repeatedly questioned by senior officers about the funding behind the protest kitchen. The questioning, according to the petition, focused less on the food itself than on identifying those allegedly financing the wider protest. Malik claims officers threatened him with serious consequences, including possible action under the National Security Act. if he failed to reveal the source of funding. He says he consistently replied that there was no hidden financier, only ordinary citizens helping feed protesters.

Claims of harassment

After returning to Delhi, Malik defended his actions in a series of emotional media interviews. Speaking to India Today, he said: “I have zero criminal cases against me. I am not a criminal. We are only fighting for students.”

He added: “If giving someone food or drinking water is considered a crime, then I will commit that ‘crime’ a thousand times over.” The remark quickly became one of the most widely shared quotations associated with his case.

Malik’s allegations extend well beyond his own detention. His Supreme Court application says police questioned his father about family bank accounts, raided the family’s Ghaziabad residence, searched the house, demanded identity documents and financial records, and detained relatives in Meerut—all without legal paperwork or compliance with established procedure. The petition argues that these actions were intended to pressure him into abandoning the protest and disclosing its alleged funding network. Calling the actions an abuse of state power, the application says the treatment of his family violated their rights under Article 21 of the Constitution.

Police response

Police authorities have disputed significant parts of Malik’s account. According to a report by Scroll, Ghaziabad Police acknowledged questioning Malik’s father but denied arresting him, describing it as a routine inquiry. Mussoorie Police similarly confirmed questioning his father regarding financial sources before releasing him. Meerut Police denied detaining any of Malik’s relatives, while Delhi Police said it was looking into the allegations.

From volunteer to petitioner

Malik has now approached the Supreme Court through an intervention application in the writ petition filed by RJD MP Manoj Kumar Jha concerning alleged police excesses during the CJP protests. Filed through Advocate-on-Record Neha Rathi, the application seeks protection against further coercive action toward his family and asks the Court to ensure that any investigation complies strictly with the law.

Perhaps the most striking aspect of Malik’s story is that he was never one of the protest’s public leaders. He did not deliver speeches, negotiate with officials or lead marches. Instead, his visibility came from doing something almost mundane—making sure students had food and water. By the time the protest entered the courtroom, however, the man remembered for handing out meals had himself become one of its most prominent litigants.

Malik’s story also raises uncomfortable questions about the intersection of protest, policing and religious identity. By his own account, he was not a student leader, political strategist or public face of the agitation; he was a volunteer running a community kitchen. Yet much of the scrutiny he describes, from repeated questions about who was funding the food to the alleged raids on his family’s home, came to centre on him. The fact that he is a Muslim became impossible to ignore, with the lingering suspicion that he had been singled out despite his role being limited to providing food and water. While the matter is now before the Supreme Court, Malik’s case has become emblematic, for many, of how an act of humanitarian solidarity can become entangled with suspicion when filtered through the lens of religious identity.

Related:

July 2026: A dissent that was brutally put down, a crackdown after the protest ended

A deleted tweet, an NSA order, and the shadow of past crackdowns

Youth Uprising: A protest, a brute crackdown, a continuing countrywide response

Mumbai stands with students, but the state pushes back

The exam crisis that became a battle for accountability

Brute Police Action: Mumbai’s crackdown on protestors in solidarity with CJP & Student Groups, AISF, SFI & AISA

Governments begin rolling back cases against protesters, but questions over violence, arrests and accountability remain

The post From Feeding Students to Fighting in the Supreme Court: The story of Mohammad Junaid Malik appeared first on SabrangIndia.

That contradiction lies at the heart of what comes next. The resignation may have answered one political demand, but it does not answer what happened to the protesters who were arrested. It does not account for the FIRs filed against them. It does not explain why cases were registered despite the Centre’s assurance that there would be none. And it does not settle the allegations of excessive police force, including the reported use of pellet guns, or the injuries sustained during the crackdown. Nor does it address what happened after the crowds dispersed.

The protests of India’s youth, especially in Delhi, the capital and Bihar were especially brutal. The use of pellet guns, steel lathis and visuals and videos of brazen sexual assault by policing personnel against female protesters are now a household story and have generated outrage and demands for accountability and action.

Though the protests have ended, for now, police cases have not been withdrawn. Notices were issued. Families were drawn into the process. Protesters were detained and, in some cases, sent to judicial custody. Facial-recognition technology was deployed around protest sites. Muslim protesters and volunteers reported police action that, in some instances, allegedly extended to their families. Across different states, the response to dissent increasingly moved beyond the street and into the criminal justice system, the home and the private lives of those who had participated.

This is why the aftermath cannot be reduced to the resignation of a minister or the withdrawal of a protest. The more difficult questions remain. What happens to the FIRs filed against protesters after the Centre’s assurance that there would be none? Why are police reportedly waiting for government approval to withdraw cases that should, according to that assurance, never have been registered? Who will account for the arrests and detentions that have already taken place? Who will investigate allegations of police brutality and excessive force? And what happens to those who were injured, who were under surveillance or drawn into cases simply for being part of a movement that challenged the government? The political confrontation may have ended. The State’s actions during and after it still demand answers.

The Centre’s assurance and the FIRs that followed

Among the final demands put forward by the Cockroach Janata Party (CJP) before it called off the agitation was the withdrawal of all FIRs and cases registered against protesters during the movement. The demand was significant because it recognised that, beyond the immediate political questions of examination reforms and ministerial accountability, hundreds of students and young protesters had already been drawn into the criminal justice system. Following assurances from the Centre that protest-related cases would not continue and that FIRs against protesters would be withdrawn, the CJP announced the suspension of its agitation.

To date however, there is no confirmation that these assurances have resulted in real action.

Yet the events on the ground tell a more complicated story. Reports from across the country show that FIRs had already been registered, protesters had been arrested, and many had been remanded to judicial custody before the political settlement was reached. According to reporting cited by Maktoob Media, more than 400 protesters were arrested and sent to jail, while police released photographs and posters of identified protesters in several districts. The report noted that these arrests came despite the Union government’s assurance that no cases related to the protests would be registered in NDA-ruled states. In Patna, at least 87 people were reportedly remanded in an FIR connected to the Bihar Bandh, while Prabhat Khabar, as cited in the same compilation, reported that 190 people had been arrested and sent to jail. In Chhapra, four FIRs were reportedly registered and 56 people arrested, while 25 people were arrested in Siwan.

The Centre’s assurance and the events on the ground therefore sit uneasily alongside each other. If peaceful participation in the protests was never meant to attract criminal proceedings, why were FIRs registered against protesters at all? And if, as reported by The Times of India, the Delhi Police are now awaiting government approval to withdraw these cases, it raises another question: why should people who were peacefully exercising their constitutional rights have had to pass through the criminal justice system in the first place?

As per Indian Express, Mumbai Police registered 15 FIRs against nearly 1,500 people in connection with demonstrations supporting the agitation. Police data accessed by the newspaper showed that among 301 people named in seven FIRs, more than half were aged 25 or younger, with one in five between 18 and 20. Around one-third of those named were women. The offences included unlawful assembly and disobedience of lawful orders. The Indian Express also reported the case of a 20-year-old student who said he had been recording a protest from a sweet shop after attending his coaching class. He was taken to a police station and later struggled to determine whether an FIR had actually been registered against him. The uncertainty surrounding his legal status became a form of pressure in itself.

This does not diminish the importance of withdrawing the FIRs. On the contrary, their withdrawal is necessary where protesters have been booked solely for participating in peaceful demonstrations. But the withdrawal of cases cannot be the end of the conversation. It must also be accompanied by an examination of how and why peaceful protesters were criminalised despite the Centre’s assurance and despite the constitutional guarantee of the right to assemble and protest peacefully.

This distinction is important. Where individuals committed acts of violence, attacked police personnel or damaged public property, those allegations must be investigated on their own merits. But participation in a peaceful protest is not, by itself, a crime. The criminal law must distinguish between acts of violence and the exercise of democratic rights. That distinction is essential if the constitutional right to protest is to have any real meaning. This is the point at which the FIR becomes more than a legal instrument. It becomes a mechanism through which the State can impose a cost on dissent even without securing a conviction. The consequences begin before the court has spoken.

From tear gas and barricades to alleged pellet injuries in Delhi

The use of force in Delhi adds another dimension to the story. The march towards Parliament on July 20 became a defining moment in the State’s response to the movement, with police action involving barricading and crowd-control measures, including tear gas, followed by allegations that pellet guns were used.

The Hindu reported that at least four of approximately 80 protesters injured during the police action sustained pellet-gun injuries, according to a source at Lady Hardinge Medical College. Delhi Police denied using pellet guns and called the claims false and misleading, while allegations focused on the Rapid Action Force. The RAF, reported The Print, has accepted using excessive force.

The Hindu’s analysis notes that the Ministry of Home Affairs has maintained that pellet guns should be used only as a last resort after other crowd-control measures, including warnings, tear-smoke and PAVA shells, have failed to disperse a violent crowd. The July 20 incident therefore raises the question of whether the safeguards governing their use were followed. That question becomes particularly important when the protesters are students and when there is no established finding that the crowd posed a threat requiring such a weapon.

The debate over pellet guns is not new. The Hindu’s reporting recalls how the government explored alternatives following the injuries caused during the unrest in Kashmir, including PAVA shells, stun-lac rounds, acoustic devices and plastic bullets. Yet pellet guns remained part of the security forces’ arsenal. The weapon’s continued use has been criticised because of its capacity to cause permanent eye injuries and other serious harm.

The United Nations Human Rights Office’s 2020 guidance on less-lethal weapons went further, stating that metal pellets fired from shotguns should never be used because multi-projectile weapons are inherently inaccurate and generally cannot meet the principles of necessity and proportionality.

The Delhi episode therefore requires a transparent investigation into what happened, which forces were deployed, what weapons were used, who authorised their use and whether the response was proportionate to the threat. The same principle that applies to protesters must apply to the State: evidence must determine responsibility.

The State’s response did not stop at the barricades

The crackdown also moved into the realm of surveillance. The Daily Pioneer reported that Delhi Police deployed four facial-recognition units around the Jantar Mantar protest site. Police said the systems were intended to identify wanted criminals, absconders and history-sheeters rather than ordinary protesters, and that the cameras were connected to the Delhi Police database.

The police explanation is relevant, but it does not resolve the broader civil-liberties question. When facial-recognition systems are deployed around a political demonstration, citizens may reasonably wonder whether participation itself is being recorded and monitored. The difference between surveillance intended to identify wanted criminals and surveillance that chills ordinary political participation must be clearly maintained. Without adequate safeguards, a protest site can become a space where citizens exercise their democratic rights while simultaneously being subjected to technologies of identification.

The effect may be subtle, but it can be powerful. A young person who knows that their face may be scanned may think twice before attending a demonstration. A student who has already seen fellow protesters arrested may decide not to return. A citizen who fears being identified may choose silence over participation. The State does not need to prohibit protest outright to weaken the right to protest. It only needs to make participation feel dangerous.

According to The Times of India, Delhi Police have initiated action against social media posts that allegedly contained abusive or derogatory language directed at Prime Minister Narendra Modi during the CJP-led agitation. Several social media platforms have reportedly received notices seeking the removal of such content, with most of the flagged videos, posts and comments already taken down. The report further states that police teams are continuing to monitor online content, issuing fresh notices as new posts emerge and directing platforms to remove them promptly.

The police have maintained that the action is limited to content containing abusive language and is aimed at enforcing the law. At the same time, the move illustrates how the State’s response to the protests has expanded beyond physical demonstrations into the digital spaces where political mobilisation, criticism and debate increasingly take place. While speech that falls foul of the law may legitimately invite legal scrutiny, sustained monitoring of online expression linked to a protest also raises broader questions about the extent to which digital speech surrounding political dissent is being policed in the aftermath of the agitation.

Viewed alongside the registration of FIRs, arrests, surveillance measures and police action during the protests, the scrutiny of online content suggests that the State’s response has not been confined to restoring public order at protest sites. It has continued into the spaces where the protest is remembered, discussed and documented.

The Muslim protester and the question of unequal policing

The allegations involving Muslim protesters and volunteers add another layer of concern to the story. It is important to be precise here: the available reporting does not establish a universal policy of targeting Muslims, and individual allegations must be independently verified. But the number and nature of the reported incidents are serious enough to raise questions about whether Muslim citizens have been disproportionately exposed to police scrutiny and coercion.

One of the most striking cases concerns Muhammad Junaid, a volunteer who was reportedly involved in distributing food and water to protesters. According to reporting cited from Scroll, Junaid alleged that police action extended to his family while authorities were looking for him. His relatives were reportedly detained or questioned, and documents were allegedly seized, while police denied taking action against his family. The allegation is significant not simply because it concerns one individual. It raises the possibility that the pressure of policing can extend beyond the person who participated in a protest and reach those around them.

The reported targeting of families is especially troubling because it changes the nature of State pressure. When a person is arrested for an alleged offence, the State is at least claiming to act against that individual. When police action allegedly reaches parents, siblings, spouses or in-laws, the message becomes broader. It suggests that the consequences of dissent may not be confined to the person who chose to protest.

A similar concern emerged in reports concerning five Muslim students returning from Jantar Mantar towards Jamia Millia Islamia. According to The Siasat Daily, the students were taken to a police station and later released after activists and a reporter questioned the police action. The students alleged that they had been picked up without explanation and threatened with a case when they questioned the detention, while the police position was reportedly that the action amounted to verification. Again, these incidents require independent scrutiny rather than sweeping conclusions.

But the pattern is difficult to ignore when placed alongside the case of three young Muslim men in Assam. The Wire reported that Monjur Rahman, Ashraful Islam and Abdul Kashem were arrested after allegedly attempting to organise a peaceful protest in solidarity with the wider movement. Their families said they had sought permission for the demonstration and that the proposed protest had not even taken place. The men were nevertheless booked under serious provisions, including Section 152 of the BNS, while their families disputed the allegations. The central question is not whether every action against a Muslim protester is necessarily communal. The more fundamental question is whether the State is applying the same standards of suspicion, surveillance and force to citizens regardless of their religious identity. That is the test of equal citizenship; and it is a test that must be answered through evidence, transparency and accountability.

Moreover, in Assam, advocate Ariful Islam was remanded to judicial custody until August 7 after being detained by the police for more than 24 hours. According to lawyer and Congress spokesperson Aman Wadud, who represented him in court, Islam was not participating in the protest but was near the site in his advocate’s uniform, carrying his Bar Council identity card and copies of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS) and Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS). As reported by Maktoob Media, Wadud alleged that despite identifying himself as a practising lawyer, Islam was booked under Section 152 of the BNS and remanded to judicial custody. Wadud also pointed to the contradiction between the arrest and the Union government’s assurance that cases against peaceful protesters would be withdrawn, describing the police action as arbitrary and unconstitutional.

West Bengal and the Invocation of the Goonda Act

The legal response to the protests also escalated beyond the filing of FIRs. In West Bengal, the State government invoked the West Bengal Public Safety and Control of Anti-Social Activities Act, 2026, commonly known as the Goonda Act, for the first time since its enactment in connection with violence during the Kolkata protest march.

Announcing the decision in the Assembly, Chief Minister Suvendu Adhikari said around 70 people identified from the protest had “nothing to do with the student movement” and alleged that they had participated solely to create disorder. Seven FIRs were registered in connection with the violence, and police arrested 11 people, including 10 Muslims. The Chief Minister also condemned the reported attacks on journalists during the demonstration, stating that the law had been invoked to ensure “exemplary punishment” for those responsible.

The invocation of the legislation is significant because of the extraordinary powers it confers on the State. The Act allows authorities to order preventive detention for up to one year without trial, issue externment orders requiring individuals to leave specified districts and attach property allegedly connected to unlawful activities. Its constitutional validity is currently under challenge before the Calcutta High Court, with Opposition parties and civil rights groups arguing that its broad preventive detention provisions are susceptible to political misuse and could be used to suppress dissent.

The government has defended its decision by maintaining that the law is being applied not against peaceful protesters but against individuals accused of orchestrating violence and attacking police personnel and journalists. According to the State, shoes, bottles and other objects were thrown at security personnel and members of the media, while the police exercised restraint despite alleged attempts to provoke a stronger response.

Student organisers, however, dispute that account. The Students’ Federation of India (SFI) condemned the attacks on journalists but alleged that “agent provocateurs” linked to the BJP had infiltrated the demonstration to derail the protest and discredit the movement. As reported by Maktoob Media, SFI leaders also accused the Kolkata Police of using tear gas and batons against peaceful demonstrators and alleged that several student protesters sustained injuries. They further called for an independent investigation, claiming that video footage showed individuals allegedly associated with the BJP participating in the violence.

The competing narratives surrounding the Kolkata violence underscore the importance of an impartial investigation. Those responsible for attacking journalists, police personnel or damaging public property must be identified and prosecuted on the basis of evidence. At the same time, the decision to invoke a preventive detention law with sweeping powers in the context of a political protest inevitably raises wider questions about proportionality, necessity and the extent to which extraordinary legislation should be used in situations involving public demonstrations.

The arrests also drew further scrutiny because 10 of the 11 people arrested were Muslims. Responding to these reports, CJP spokesperson Ratna Singh said the party had received information that protesters had been detained by police in both Assam and West Bengal and that many of those detained were allegedly Muslims. She stated that if those reports were accurate, any targeting of individuals on the basis of religion would be unlawful and deeply concerning. While these allegations remain contested, they add to broader concerns raised elsewhere during the protests regarding whether policing and criminal proceedings were being applied uniformly across communities.

Bihar and the problem of the government’s promise

Bihar presents perhaps the clearest example of why the Centre’s assurance requires greater scrutiny. The State witnessed serious incidents during the Bihar Bandh, including allegations of stone-pelting and damage to public property, and those incidents must be investigated. The legitimacy of a protest does not provide immunity to anyone who commits violence. At the same time, the State’s response must remain proportionate and individualised.

The Hindu reported that police opened fire using AK-47 in Siwan after protesters allegedly continued throwing stones, with at least three protesters injured and police officers also reportedly hurt. The said police officer was later suspended. Scroll separately reported that police opened fire in Jehanabad after protesters allegedly damaged the gate of the district magistrate’s residence and threw stones, while more than 100 people were reportedly arrested. These incidents demonstrate why accountability cannot be one-sided. Those who attacked police officers or damaged property must be investigated, but allegations of excessive police force must also be independently examined. The same principle applies to the FIRs.

The political language around protest is changing

The legal and physical response to dissent has also been accompanied by increasingly charged political language. The Hindu reported that BJP state president Shamik Bhattacharya described protesters involved in a West Bengal rally as “anti-nationals” amid allegations of violence, while an FIR was also registered against actor Sreelekha Mitra over an allegedly objectionable poster depicting Prime Minister Narendra Modi. The reporting also documented competing allegations about violence and attacks on journalists during the protest.

There is no question that violence, vandalism and attacks on journalists must be investigated. Political speech does not provide immunity from criminal law. But the use of labels such as “anti-national” has consequences beyond rhetoric. It can transform the public understanding of dissent from a democratic right into a security threat. Once protesters are framed as threats rather than citizens, stronger State intervention becomes easier to justify. That is why political language matters. The difference between calling someone a protester and calling them an anti-national is not merely semantic. One recognises a citizen exercising a political right. The other places that citizen outside the boundaries of legitimate dissent.

The protest has ended; the questions have not

The resignation of Dharmendra Pradhan may have brought the immediate political confrontation to a close, but it has not resolved the questions raised by the State’s response to the protests. Those questions extend far beyond whether the FIRs against protesters will eventually be withdrawn. They concern the use of force against demonstrators, including allegations of excessive police action and the reported use of pellet guns. They concern the registration of FIRs despite assurances that protest-related cases would not continue, the arrests and judicial custody that followed, and reports that police are now awaiting government approval before withdrawing those cases. They concern the deployment of facial-recognition technology and the monitoring of online speech long after protesters had left the streets. They concern the invocation of extraordinary laws such as West Bengal’s Goonda Act, allegations that Muslim protesters and volunteers were disproportionately targeted, and the political language that increasingly sought to portray demonstrators as “anti-nationals”, “outsiders” or agents of disorder rather than citizens exercising a democratic right.

None of these developments can be viewed in isolation. Taken together, they reveal a broader pattern in which the State’s response to dissent extended well beyond maintaining public order. The protest moved from the streets into police stations, courtrooms, surveillance systems and social media platforms. What began as a movement demanding accountability for failures in the education system became, in many instances, a test of how far the State would go in policing dissent and political opposition.

This does not mean that acts of violence, attacks on journalists or damage to public property should go unpunished. Those responsible must be identified and prosecuted on the basis of evidence. But the same standard of accountability must apply to the State. Allegations of excessive force must be independently investigated. The circumstances surrounding injuries sustained during police action must be examined. The use of facial-recognition technology and expanded digital surveillance at protest sites requires greater transparency. The decision to register FIRs despite public assurances demands an explanation. And allegations of selective targeting, including those involving Muslim protesters and their families, cannot simply be dismissed without an impartial inquiry.

The end of a protest cannot mark the end of accountability. Withdrawing FIRs, if that is ultimately done, would provide relief to many protesters, but it would not answer the larger questions raised by the State’s conduct during and after the movement. A democracy is measured not only by its willingness to hear dissent but also by the limits it places on its own exercise of power. Those limits are precisely what the protests have placed under scrutiny, and they remain unresolved long after the streets have emptied.

Other detailed reports may be read here, here, here and here.

Related:

A deleted tweet, an NSA order, and the shadow of past crackdowns

Youth Uprising: A protest, a brute crackdown, a continuing countrywide response

Mumbai stands with students, but the state pushes back

The exam crisis that became a battle for accountability

Brute Police Action: Mumbai’s crackdown on protestors in solidarity with CJP & Student Groups, AISF, SFI & AISA

The post July 2026: A dissent that was brutally put down, a crackdown after the protest ended appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Alam Khan outside his home in Barpeta

In an order delivered on January 6, 2026, the Foreigners Tribunal No. 1, Barpeta, presided over by Member Ms. Anurupa Dey, declared that Alam Khan is not a foreigner, concluding that he had successfully established his Indian citizenship through reliable documentary evidence, credible oral testimony and a consistent chain of records demonstrating that his family had been residing in Assam prior to the statutory cut-off date of March 25, 1971.

The decision represents another important legal victory for Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP), which provided legal assistance to Alam Khan throughout the proceedings. The matter was argued by Advocate Abhijeet Choudhury, whose legal strategy addressed complex questions of lineage, documentary continuity and evidentiary burden arising under the Foreigners Act, 1946.

Alam Khan along with CJP Team Assam, outside his home

However, the significance of this decision extends beyond one individual’s relief. The Tribunal’s order is noteworthy for its careful appreciation of evidence, its refusal to allow administrative lapses to prejudice the proceedee, and its recognition that family circumstances such as divorce and remarriage cannot, by themselves, undermine a genuine claim to Indian citizenship.

A citizenship dispute dating back more than two decades

Alam Khan’s case originated as IM(D)T Reference Case No. 1371 of 2000, when the Superintendent of Police (Border), Barpeta, referred him as a suspected foreigner. Following the Supreme Court’s order striking down the Illegal Migrants (Determination by Tribunals) Act in Sarbananda Sonowal v. Union of India, pending references under the IM(D)T regime stood transferred to Foreigners Tribunals for adjudication under the Foreigners Act, 1946 and the Foreigners (Tribunals) Order, 1964. Alam Khan’s case was one such transferred proceeding.

Although the reference itself was over two decades old, Alam Khan received a fresh notice from the Tribunal only in October 2024, compelling him once again to defend his citizenship. For a daily wage labourer with limited financial means, this meant returning to prolonged litigation, collecting decades-old documents, tracing family records and proving facts that ordinarily no citizen is ever expected to establish.

The proceedings eventually culminated in January 2026, though the certified copy of the order reached Alam Khan only several months later. On July 16, 2026, CJP’s legal team, represented by Advocate Abhijeet Choudhury and Assam State In-charge Nanda Ghosh, formally handed over the order copy to him, marking the end of a legal battle spanning almost twenty-six years.

A case made difficult by family history rather than law

Unlike many Foreigners Tribunal proceedings where documentary continuity alone becomes the principal issue, Alam Khan’s case presented an additional layer of complexity arising from his family’s personal history. Alam Khan was born to Late Abdul Hakim Khan and Joytan Nessa. During his childhood, however, his parents divorced. Following the separation, his mother returned to her parental home, while Alam Khan continued residing with his father. Subsequently, his father remarried, and his stepmother, Jahura Khatun, became part of the family. These personal circumstances later translated into significant documentary complications.

By the time Alam Khan’s own name began appearing in electoral rolls, his father had already passed away. Consequently, subsequent voter lists reflected his residence alongside his stepmother rather than his biological mother. Since he did not possess a birth certificate, establishing the identity of his biological mother, and distinguishing her from his stepmother, became one of the most difficult factual questions before the Tribunal.

Ordinarily, such inconsistencies are capable of creating serious doubts in citizenship proceedings, particularly because the burden of proof under Section 9 of the Foreigners Act rests upon the proceedee. Had these inconsistencies remained unexplained, they could easily have undermined Alam Khan’s defence despite his genuine claim to citizenship. It was this challenge that shaped CJP’s legal strategy before the Tribunal.

CJP’s Legal Strategy: Addressing documentary gaps through credible evidence

Recognising that the case hinged not merely on producing documents but on explaining the circumstances behind apparent inconsistencies, CJP adopted a legal strategy that combined documentary evidence with carefully structured oral testimony. Representing Alam Khan, Advocate Abhijeet Choudhury sought to establish an unbroken narrative of lineage, residence and citizenship, while simultaneously demonstrating that the deficiencies in the documentary record arose from circumstances entirely beyond the proceedee’s control. The defence first addressed the most fundamental issue in the case—Alam Khan’s parentage.

To resolve the confusion arising from the divorce of his parents and his subsequent residence with his father and stepmother, CJP produced Joytan Nessa, Alam Khan’s biological mother, as Defence Witness No. 2 (DW-2). Through her sworn affidavit and oral testimony, she confirmed that Alam Khan was indeed her son and explained the family’s history, including her separation from Abdul Hakim and her return to her parental home. The Tribunal found that her evidence fully corroborated Alam Khan’s own testimony and expressly recorded that it found no reason to disbelieve her evidence.

This was a crucial intervention. In Foreigners Tribunal proceedings, discrepancies concerning parentage or family relationships often become decisive, particularly where birth certificates or other foundational documents are unavailable. By placing the biological mother in the witness box and allowing her testimony to withstand cross-examination, the defence transformed what appeared to be a documentary weakness into a coherent and credible explanation supported by oral evidence.

Equally significant was CJP’s response to another obstacle that had nothing to do with Alam Khan himself—the absence of certified electoral rolls for 1985 and 1989. The relevant Election Commission office was unable to produce certified copies of these electoral rolls because they had not been preserved. This was an institutional failure entirely attributable to the authorities. During the proceedings, Advocate Abhijeet Choudhury argued that a citizen cannot be expected to suffer adverse consequences because the State failed to preserve public records that were legally required to be maintained. The inability to produce those electoral rolls, therefore, could not be treated as evidence against the proceedee.

Instead of insisting upon documents that no longer existed, the defence invited the Tribunal to examine the continuity of evidence through earlier and subsequent electoral records, legacy documents and witness testimony. The Tribunal accepted this broader evidentiary approach, demonstrating that the absence of a particular document does not necessarily break the chain of proof where surrounding evidence establishes continuity.

Documentary evidence establishing citizenship

To discharge the burden imposed under Section 9 of the Foreigners Act, 1946, the defence produced an extensive body of documentary evidence tracing Alam Khan’s family across multiple decades. The foundation of the case lay in the 1951 National Register of Citizens (NRC). The Tribunal noted that Alam Khan’s grandfather’s name appeared in the 1951 NRC Legacy Data under Legacy Data Code No. 120-0041-8547, establishing that the family was residing in village Katla, Mouza Bhawanipur, long before the citizenship cut-off date prescribed under the Assam Accord. The documentary chain was then strengthened through certified electoral rolls spanning more than five decades.

The 1965 and 1970 voter lists contained the names of Alam Khan’s father, Abdul Hakim Khan, and his mother, Joytan Nessa. The 1970 electoral roll also reflected the presence of his stepmother following his father’s remarriage, a circumstance that aligned with the factual explanation advanced before the Tribunal. Alam Khan’s own name subsequently appeared in the electoral records from 1997 onwards, demonstrating continuity of residence in the same village. Certified copies of the voter list for 1997, 2005, 2010, 2019 and 2021 were produced before the Tribunal.

The defence also produced Alam Khan’s Voter Identity Card, land records (Khatian) and a certificate issued by the Gaonburah of Katla village. Significantly, the Gaonburah himself appeared before the Tribunal and proved the certificate, explaining that it had been issued after verification of the 1965 electoral records relating to Alam Khan’s father. This substantially enhanced the evidentiary value of the certificate, which was no longer merely a supporting document but one whose authenticity stood established through oral testimony.

An equally important aspect of the proceedings was the State’s own conduct. While Alam Khan examined three witnesses, including himself, and produced extensive documentary evidence, the State did not lead any evidence whatsoever to substantiate the allegation that he was a foreigner. The Tribunal specifically recorded that no witness appeared on behalf of the State to adduce evidence.

Tribunal rejects a mechanical approach to citizenship determination

The order is particularly significant because it rejects a narrow or mechanical assessment of documentary evidence in favour of a holistic evaluation of the entire factual record. Foreigners Tribunal proceedings are frequently characterised by intense scrutiny of documentary inconsistencies. Minor discrepancies in names, ages, family relationships or electoral records have often proved fatal to citizenship claims. In Alam Khan’s case, however, the Tribunal recognised that documentary records must be assessed in light of the social realities that produce them.

Rather than treating the absence of a birth certificate or the appearance of a stepmother’s name in later electoral rolls as circumstances adverse to the proceedee, the Tribunal examined whether those circumstances had been satisfactorily explained through credible evidence. Finding that they had, it accepted the explanation offered by the defence.

This approach reflects an important principle in citizenship adjudication: documentary evidence does not exist in isolation. Electoral rolls, family records and legacy documents must be read together with oral testimony and surrounding circumstances. Where the evidence collectively establishes a coherent and credible narrative, isolated inconsistencies cannot automatically justify declaring an individual a foreigner. That reasoning is one of the most significant aspects of the order and reinforces the principle that citizenship determinations must rest on a comprehensive appreciation of evidence rather than on rigid technicalities.

Tribunal finds Alam Khan successfully discharged the burden under Section 9 of the Foreigners Act

One of the most important aspects of the decision lies in the Tribunal’s application of Section 9 of the Foreigners Act, 1946, which places the burden of proving Indian citizenship upon the proceedee once a reference is made against them. While the statutory burden remained upon Alam Khan, the Tribunal emphasised that this burden had to be assessed on the basis of the quality, credibility and cumulative effect of the evidence rather than through a piecemeal examination of individual documents.

After considering the oral testimony and documentary record together, the Tribunal held that Alam Khan had successfully discharged this burden. It observed that the evidence placed on record was trustworthy, internally consistent and sufficiently established that he was born to Indian parents who had been residing in Assam prior to March 25, 1971.

This finding is significant because it reiterates an important evidentiary principle governing Foreigners Tribunal proceeding. Although Section 9 reverses the ordinary burden of proof, it does not authorise a mechanical rejection of citizenship claims merely because every conceivable document is unavailable. Instead, what is required is a credible evidentiary chain capable of establishing ancestry and residence. The Tribunal found that Alam Khan had done precisely that.

Oral evidence receives equal evidentiary weight

The order is equally noteworthy for the importance it accords to oral testimony. Citizenship cases before Foreigners Tribunals often become document-centric, with oral evidence receiving comparatively little attention. In Alam Khan’s case, however, the Tribunal carefully evaluated the testimony of both the proceedee and his witnesses instead of confining itself to documentary records alone.

The evidence of Joytan Nessa (DW-2) proved particularly decisive. Her testimony not only established that she was Alam Khan’s biological mother but also explained the family’s circumstances following her divorce from Abdul Hakim. The Tribunal categorically recorded that her affidavit corroborated Alam Khan’s own evidence and that there was no reason to disbelieve her testimony.

Similarly, the Gaonburah of Katla village, who had issued the hereditary certificate relied upon by the defence, appeared before the Tribunal and proved its contents. The Tribunal specifically noted that the certificate had been issued after verification of the 1965 electoral records relating to Alam Khan’s father, thereby enhancing both its authenticity and evidentiary value.

Together, these witnesses bridged the documentary gaps that arose because of divorce, remarriage and the absence of a birth certificate. Rather than treating oral evidence as secondary, the Tribunal relied upon it to contextualise and reinforce the documentary record.

Administrative negligence cannot defeat citizenship

The proceedings also exposed a troubling administrative lapse. During the course of the case, certified copies of the 1985 and 1989 electoral rolls could not be produced because the Election Commission had failed to preserve those records. This was not a case where Alam Khan had failed to produce documents in his possession; rather, the relevant public authority itself was unable to furnish records that ought to have been maintained.

Recognising the implications of this failure, CJP argued that a citizen cannot be deprived of his legal rights because of omissions committed by the State. The absence of public records attributable to administrative negligence cannot be converted into evidence against the very citizen who seeks to rely upon them.

Although the Tribunal’s written opinion ultimately rested on the strength of the remaining documentary and oral evidence, its acceptance of the defence case effectively recognised that missing public records, when unavailable due to official lapses, cannot by themselves negate an otherwise credible claim of citizenship. The decision therefore reflects a fair and pragmatic approach to evidentiary evaluation in citizenship proceedings.

This aspect of the case is likely to assume wider significance. Across Assam, numerous citizenship proceedings have been complicated by missing electoral rolls, damaged records and administrative deficiencies that are entirely beyond the control of the persons facing proceedings. The reasoning adopted in Alam Khan’s case reinforces the principle that such institutional failures should not become instruments for denying citizenship.

A holistic appreciation of evidence

In this order, rather than isolating each document and asking whether it independently established citizenship, the Tribunal examined the evidence as a connected chain extending across several decades. It considered the 1951 NRC legacy data, the certified electoral rolls from 1965, 1970, 1997, 2005, 2010, 2019 and 2021, the voter identity cards, the land records, the Gaonburah’s certificate and the oral testimony of the proceedee and his witnesses. None of these documents, viewed in isolation, answered every question raised in the proceedings. Taken together, however, they established a consistent narrative regarding Alam Khan’s ancestry, family history and continuous residence in Assam.

The Tribunal expressly recorded that the evidence relied upon by Alam Khan appeared trustworthy, that there was nothing on record to disbelieve his version, and that the documents produced were admissible and duly proved. On that basis, it concluded that he had been born and brought up through genuine Indian parents and, being their descendant, could not be termed a foreigner.

“The evidence of Proceedee, coupled with the above-mentioned documents relied upon by him appears to be trustworthy and there is nothing on record to disbelieve him. I find sufficient proof on record to come to a definite conclusion that the Proceedee was born and brought up through genuine Indian Parents and as such, he being the descendent of his Indian Parents cannot be termed as a foreigner as alleged in the above-mentioned case.” (Para 8)

In doing so, the Tribunal reaffirmed an important legal principle: citizenship adjudication is ultimately an exercise in evaluating the totality of evidence. The law does not require perfection in documentation; it requires credible proof. Where multiple independent pieces of evidence corroborate one another and collectively establish the proceedee’s claim, isolated inconsistencies or documentary gaps cannot outweigh the cumulative force of the record. That is precisely the approach adopted in Alam Khan’s case, making the decision an important example of reasoned and evidence-based adjudication under the Foreigners Act.

The Final Verdict: Tribunal declares Alam Khan ‘not a foreigner’

Having examined the oral testimony, documentary evidence and the submissions advanced by both sides, the Foreigners Tribunal unequivocally held that the allegations made against Alam Khan could not be sustained. The Tribunal observed that the proceedee’s testimony, read together with the evidence of his biological mother and the documentary record produced before it, constituted a credible and reliable chain of evidence. It found no material on record that cast doubt upon the authenticity of the documents or the veracity of the witnesses. On the contrary, the Tribunal held that the evidence consistently established that Alam Khan belonged to a family that had been residing in Assam long before the statutory cut-off date and that he was the descendant of genuine Indian citizens.

Accordingly, by its order dated January 6, 2026, the Tribunal answered the reference in the negative, holding that Md. Alam Khan, son of Late Abdul Hakim Khan of village Katla, Barpeta, is not a foreigner within the meaning of the Foreigners Act, 1946.

The decision finally brought an end to a proceeding that had remained unresolved for over two decades, restoring to Alam Khan what should never have been placed in doubt—his recognition as an Indian citizen.

Alam Khan holds up the Foreigners’ Tribunal Order

Why this order matters

While the order grants relief to one individual, its importance lies in the principles it reinforces for citizenship adjudication before Foreigners Tribunals. First, the order demonstrates that family complexities cannot be viewed in isolation from social realities. Divorce, remarriage and blended family structures are lived realities across society. The absence of a birth certificate or the appearance of a step-parent’s name in electoral records cannot automatically negate a person’s citizenship. By accepting oral evidence that satisfactorily explained these circumstances, the Tribunal adopted an approach rooted in evidentiary fairness rather than technical formalism.

Secondly, the case highlights the consequences of administrative negligence. The inability to produce certain electoral records did not arise because Alam Khan had failed to preserve them; rather, the relevant public authority itself had failed to maintain those records. Had the Tribunal adopted an inflexible documentary standard, Alam Khan could have been penalised for omissions committed entirely by the State. Instead, the Tribunal assessed the available evidence in its entirety and declined to allow institutional lapses to determine the outcome of the proceedings.

Thirdly, the decision reiterates that the burden under Section 9 of the Foreigners Act is discharged through credible and cumulative evidence, not through the production of any one document in isolation. Legacy data, electoral rolls spanning several decades, land records, voter identity documents, certificates issued by local authorities and reliable witness testimony together formed an unbroken chain that satisfied the Tribunal. The order therefore reinforces the settled principle that citizenship claims must be evaluated on the basis of the totality of evidence rather than isolated discrepancies.

Finally, the order underscores the importance of effective legal representation in Foreigners Tribunal proceedings. Citizenship litigation often turns upon nuanced questions of evidence, lineage and documentary continuity. Alam Khan’s case demonstrates how careful legal strategy, supported by thorough documentation and credible witness testimony, can overcome seemingly insurmountable evidentiary hurdles.

A victory beyond the courtroom

For Alam Khan, the order marks far more than the conclusion of litigation. For years, the proceedings imposed severe emotional, social and financial burdens on a man whose livelihood depended on daily labour, farming and fishing. Living on the banks of the Dhumarkur River, Alam Khan has long battled forces beyond his control. Every monsoon, floodwaters enter his home, eroding both land and livelihood. Yet, for over two decades, nature was not his only adversary. As he poignantly puts it, “On one side, the floods threaten to wash away my home. On the other, the government sought to take away my citizenship.” His victory before the Foreigners Tribunal has ended one of those battles, even as the other returns with every monsoon.

Like countless individuals facing citizenship proceedings in Assam, he lived with the uncertainty that accompanies every notice, every hearing and every adjournment. The prolonged litigation affected not only his legal status but also his ability to live with dignity and security.

Upon learning of the Tribunal’s decision, Alam Khan broke down in tears. Describing the years of mental distress and financial hardship that accompanied the proceedings, he acknowledged that without the legal support extended by Citizens for Justice and Peace, it would have been extremely difficult for him to establish his citizenship and secure justice.

On July 26 2026, Advocate Abhijeet Choudhury and CJP Assam State In-charge Nanda Ghosh formally handed over the certified copy of the order to Alam Khan, symbolising the end of a legal struggle that had lasted almost twenty-six years.

CJP’s continuing commitment

Alam Khan’s case is another reminder of the indispensable role that sustained legal aid plays in protecting the rights of vulnerable communities facing citizenship proceedings in Assam. Over the years, Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP) has represented hundreds of economically and socially marginalised individuals before Foreigners Tribunals, assisting them in tracing legacy documents, reconstructing family histories, producing witnesses and navigating a complex legal process that is often inaccessible to those with limited means.

The organisation’s intervention in Alam Khan’s case illustrates that citizenship litigation is not merely about producing documents; it is about reconstructing lives, explaining family histories, addressing administrative failures and ensuring that constitutional guarantees are not defeated by poverty, illiteracy or bureaucratic lapses.

With this order, another individual has been spared the devastating consequences of an erroneous declaration of foreigner status. Yet the case also serves as a broader reminder that citizenship adjudication must remain anchored in fairness, careful appreciation of evidence and the rule of law.

The complete order may be read below:

Related:

When a narrow reading of documents decide citizenship: GHC in Aminul Hoque

‘Fairness & reason ‘: SC rules that due process is a must for citizenship determination

Gauhati High Court upholds foreigner declaration, rejects mental illness plea

When a Spelling Error Can Cost Citizenship: Supreme Court stays deportation of five Assam women

The post 26-Year Citizenship Battle Ends: Barpeta Tribunal rules Alam Khan is Indian appeared first on SabrangIndia.

According to The Indian Express, the order was passed by City Magistrate Kuldeep Singh under the Uttar Pradesh Public Premises (Eviction of Unauthorised Occupants) Act, 1972. The dispute arose from a complaint filed by Vikas Tyagi, a former provincial coordinator of the Bajrang Dal, who alleged that a mosque had been illegally constructed within the Collectorate premises—a sensitive government complex where administrative and confidential official work is carried out. The complaint also alleged that the property was being used for commercial purposes, with portions of the premises rented to private occupants and a post office operating from the site.

Revenue inquiry and allegations

Following the complaint, the Revenue Department initiated an inquiry. In March 2025, a Lekhpal (revenue official) filed an application before the City Magistrate alleging that Abdul Hamid, described as the mosque’s manager and maulvi, was in unauthorised occupation of government land. Notices were issued to the respondents in April 2025, and their objections were filed in June 2025.

The revenue authorities contended that the land forms part of the Collectorate campus and is recorded in official revenue records as government property. According to the petition, the building originally functioned as a rest house for litigants visiting the Collectorate, but was subsequently occupied by the respondents, who allegedly converted portions of it into a mosque.

The petition further alleged that rooms on both the ground and first floors had been occupied, namaz was being offered there, several rooms had been rented out for residential purposes, and rent was being collected from tenants as well as from a post office operating from the premises.

Authorities also alleged that unauthorised construction had been carried out to convert part of the government building into a religious structure. The inquiry reportedly concluded that the occupants possessed no licence, permission or legal authority either to occupy the premises, allow third parties to reside there, or convert the building into a place of worship.

The revenue department further challenged the respondents’ reliance on a purported communication issued by the Sunni Central Waqf Board, Lucknow, alleging that the document was forged. It argued that the property has consistently been recorded in revenue records as Kachahri (Collectorate) and Kothiyat land, rather than as waqf or religious property.

The authorities also maintained that the Sunni Central Waqf Board has no legal authority to declare government land as waqf property. Although the respondents claimed to be the mosque’s mutawalli and maulvi, the petition asserted that they failed to produce documentary evidence establishing either their status or ownership rights over the property.

In addition to seeking eviction, the petitioner requested recovery of rent allegedly collected from tenants, penal rent, and all income allegedly earned through the unauthorised occupation, together with 12 per cent compound interest, to be deposited into the government treasury.

Mosque committee disputes government’s claim

The respondents denied the allegations and argued that the State had failed to establish ownership of the disputed property. They contended that the revenue records relied upon by the authorities merely reflected the physical nature or classification of the land and did not conclusively determine title.

They further alleged that the proceedings were initiated with the intention of unlawfully taking possession of the mosque and its adjoining land. According to the respondents, the petitioner had suppressed material facts, withheld relevant revenue records, and attempted to mislead the court.

Mutawalli Tanveer Ahmed maintained that the mosque is approximately 150 years old and stated that the management committee intends to challenge the order by filing a revision petition.

Court finds occupation unauthorised

After considering the material placed before it, the City Magistrate held that the respondents had failed to establish any lawful right or title over the disputed property. The court observed that Khasra No. 539 has consistently been recorded in revenue records as Collectorate/Kachahri land since Fasli Years 1324 and 1359, as well as in earlier records. On that basis, it concluded that the land belongs to the State government and that occupation without legal authority amounts to unauthorised occupation under the 1972 Act.

Taking into account the prolonged occupation of the 315-square-metre parcel, the court directed that compensation be calculated for a period of 70 years, commencing from Fasli Year 1359, in accordance with the prescribed statutory formula. The resulting amount was assessed at approximately ₹6.41 crore.

City Magistrate Kuldeep Singh told The Indian Express that the occupants have been granted 30 days to vacate the premises, failing which the administration will proceed with eviction.

Part of wider disputes over religious structures

The Saharanpur order comes amid a series of disputes involving religious structures alleged to have been constructed on public land in Uttar Pradesh. Last month, according to The Indian Express, the Varanasi Division of Northern Railways issued a notice directing the removal of a mosque located near Gate No. 1 of Kashi railway station, asserting that the structure stands on railway land. The mosque’s managing body, Anjuman Intizamia Masajid Varanasi, has challenged the notice, describing the proposed action as illegal.

The controversy also follows earlier demolition proceedings concerning the Madni Mosque in Kushinagar district. In February 2025, authorities demolished a portion of the mosque after alleging that it had been constructed on encroached land. The mosque committee disputed the allegation, asserting that the land had been lawfully purchased and had secured interim protection from the High Court until the expiry of the stay.

Subsequently, the Supreme Court issued notice to the Uttar Pradesh authorities in contempt proceedings alleging that the demolition violated the Court’s November 13, 2024 directions restraining demolition drives across the country without prior notice and an opportunity of hearing. The proceedings remain pending.

Related:

Public Purpose and Places of Worship: Allahabad HC’s Dalmandi verdict

Rebuild or Compensate: Nagpur HC confronts NMC over ‘bulldozer’ demolition in riot case

Faiz-e-Ilahi Masjid, Turkman Gate: A court-ordered demolition, midnight policing, stone-pelting, arrests, and the ongoing legal battle

“Bulldozer Justice” rebuked: Orissa High Court orders 10 lakh compensation for illegal demolition of community centre

The post Court orders removal of mosque from Saharanpur Collectorate premises appeared first on SabrangIndia.

On June 15, Praful Vaniya, Superintendent of Police (Intelligence) in the Gujarat State Police Service (SPS), issued a notice announcing the arrival of the new Anti-Radicalisation Cell (ARC). The notice also provides a step-by-step identification, prevention, detection, intervention and re-integration checklist that the police has in mind.

The SOP for Gujarat’s newly operationalised ARC claims to lay down ways to assess and decode behavioural indicators for identifying ‘radicalised’ individuals – but the details listed seem exclusively focused on Muslim radicals, conflate Muslim religious practices with security threats, and are silent on any markers of Hindu radicalism of the kind the state witnessed in 2002 and after or the rest of India has witnessed over the past decade.

From monitoring beards and niqabs to seeing Middle East travels as suspicious, from questioning the use of Signal for messaging to watching those supporting Muslim rights on social media, the SOP appears designed to penalise common Muslims – and is silent on the violent activities of cow vigilantes and the calls by Hindutva radicals for the boycott and even killing of Muslims.

Who is a ‘radicalised person’?

“A radicalised person refers to an individual affecting law and order in the State who, driven by extremist (‘kattarpant’) ideologies, engages in anti-national activities to harm the unity and integrity of the nation, creates an atmosphere of fear among the people, and try to manipulate a sane/rational person to get them to convert their religion” – these are the exact words of the notice, seen by The Wire.

Further, the notice flags “Suddenly keeping a beard, wearing a niqab, frequent use of Arabic words, reducing contact with friends and family, expressing intense protest/resentment against events happening to the Muslim community globally, praising terrorists, or showing a change in behaviour after traveling abroad (e.g., Afghanistan, Middle East)”. Next, the notice asks officers to trace purchase activity of ‘radicalised indviduals’ – “Purchasing fertilisers containing potassium nitrate, sulphur, or ammonium nitrate; acquiring LPG cylinders; making frequent visits to forest-like areas; making frequent contact with individuals residing in the Gulf, PoK (Pakistan-occupied Kashmir), or Afghanistan through encrypted apps; or withdrawing large amounts of cash”, the notice says, .

Even downloading VPN apps or using Signal or Element messengers have been listed as signs to watch out for. Other listed criteria includes ‘being members of extremist Telegram groups; following ISIS/AQ (Al-Qaeda) accounts, sharing Nasheeds, Dabiq/Rumiyah magazines; or using cryptocurrency (especially Monero) without any apparent source of income’.

Those ‘visiting extremist networks or Arabic colleges/madrasas’, performing a religious ritual like Itikaf (seclusion in a mosque) before planned activities, ‘suddenly leaving their education or employment citing Islamic duty’, or ‘visiting ‘kattarvad’ leaders after being released from prison’ are also flagged as potentially radicalised. It also orders officers to obtain complete details of maulanas teaching in madrasas, prepare a directory, and gather information/records on ‘whether they maintain contact with organisations holding extremist ideologies’.

The SOP recommends the monitoring of ‘extremist preachers, communal organisations, radicalised individuals who are or have been in prisons’, and specifically names those belonging to Salafi and Wahhabi school of Islamic thought within Sunni Islam.

Under the SOP’s ‘Intervention – Counselling and Guidance’ stage, the ARC is directed to identify and verify influential community leaders, social media influencers, NGOs, religious scholars, psychologists and educational experts who can assist in de-radicalisation efforts. It calls for counselling sessions involving family members, religious experts and psychiatrists, while requiring that the identity of individuals undergoing counselling be kept confidential. The SOP also instructs authorities to help such individuals reintegrate into education and employment and maintain regular contact with them. However, it states that if an individual commits or prepares to commit a cognisable offence after undergoing counselling, legal action should be initiated under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita and the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act, with all such actions reported to the state headquarters.

While the Gujarat ARC has formally taken shape only this year, its origins date back over a decade. The idea of a dedicated deradicalisation mechanism first gained traction in 2015, at a Directors General and Inspectors General of Police conference in Gujarat’s Rann of Kutch, where the Telangana Police’s deradicalisation model was presented as a template for states grappling with online radicalisation.

In 2020, Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Union home minister Amit Shah at the annual conference of DGPs and IGPs, recommended the idea of this cell.

The BJP subsequently promised to establish an ARC in its 2022 Gujarat assembly election manifesto, and began operationalising the proposal. Following the recommendations, a task force including a faculty head of the Gandhinagar-based Rashtriya Raksha University and police officials of the state Anti-Terrorism Squad, Crime Branch and Ahmedabad Central Jail was set up. But the project reportedly could not take off because of “lack of funds”.

On June 15, the SOP was circulated to district and commissionerate offices and laid out the ARC’s functioning – from identifying individuals deemed vulnerable to radicalisation and maintaining dossiers on them to counselling, rehabilitation and post-intervention monitoring. The SOP states that the ARC will function in coordination with district police units, the Special Operations Group (SOG), prison authorities and state Intelligence Bureau officers.

Communally targeted policing

Barrister Arif Ansari believes that this SOP is an open violation of the very basic fundamentals of the Constitution. “Article 14, 19, 21, 25, all are being buried under the kind of surveillance the state wants to impose on Muslims. This is state-sanctioned stereotyping and appears to be clearly motivated for electoral gains. India’s founding fathers made sure that all religions had equal respect and rights, but for Muslims, the morning begins with demolitions and evening ends with law being deployed against us,” Ansari told The Wire.

“After the 1980s, Gujarat became the laboratory of communal fascism. And the manufacturers of this policy were successful in planting this ideology in the state. Then we saw 2002, and the same politicians would be elected again and again,” Hiren Gandhi, a social activist, told The Wire.

While Gandhi recalls how post the 1980s, anti-Muslim leaders, policies and politics became the norm in Gujarat, he believes that the ARC should be placed in the broader context of how politics and sentiments have evolved in the BJP-run state.

“This kind of a mechanism is absolutely wrong but understand that it is nothing new. This is happening in ways and methods across India. During Covid-19, the same kind of radicalism rhetoric was peddled against the Tablighi Jamaat, they were dehumanised using their religion. This is a disgusting kind of politics killing democratic rights,” Gandhi said.

The SOP has also drawn political criticism. In a July 14 letter to Gujarat chief minister Bhupendra Patel, CPI(M) Rajya Sabha MP John Brittas urged the state government to keep its implementation in abeyance pending an independent review, arguing that several of its reported provisions risk conflating ordinary manifestations of Muslim religious identity with indicators of radicalisation.

“While intelligence agencies may legitimately monitor unlawful activities based on credible information, any framework that enables surveillance or profiling primarily on the basis of religion, appearance, language, dress or religious observance would raise profound constitutional concerns. Such measures, if undertaken without clearly defined legal thresholds, objective safeguards and judicial oversight, would be inconsistent with the constitutional guarantees of equality before law, freedom of religion, freedom of speech, dignity and privacy,” Brittas writes.

“Our constitutional jurisprudence has emphasised that the State cannot proceed on the basis of stereotypes or collective suspicion. Equality before law requires that every citizen be assessed on the basis of credible evidence of unlawful conduct, not on the basis of faith, cultural identity, attire, language, appearance or lawful religious practices. Any institutional framework that creates an impression of profiling a particular community would be inconsistent with the constitutional promise of equal protection of laws. Effective intelligence depends upon trust between citizens and law-enforcement agencies. Policies that appear to stigmatise an entire community undermine that trust, discourage cooperation with investigative agencies, and risk alienating precisely those citizens whose partnership is indispensable in combating extremism,” he continues.

Human rights campaigner Shabnam Hashmi asked why other kinds of radicalisation – often openly visible in today’s India – find no place in the SOP. “See, I will not dispute the fact that radicalisation is happening in different communities. But this opens up the gates to harass and pick up anyone they want to, and mainly people who have dissenting voices. That is that is what it will be used for. Secondly, if we are talking of radicalisation, what about the Hindu radicalisation? What about the threats which are being distributed openly? What about the Dharam Sansads, which are giving open calls to kill Muslims, to make India Islam-free, is that no radicalisation? This is very selective profiling of the Muslim community,” she told The Wire.

Hashmi added that while today, this Cell is targeting Muslims, “Tomorrow, it’ll target maybe Dalits, or Adivasi, or Christians.”

Former Chhattisgarh Special DGP R.K. Vij said that while radicalism is defined very widely in the SOP, the sub steps with regard to one community seem to be mentioned as an example. “This may also be understood whether Gujarat Police is mentioning the community owing to their past experience in the field,” Vij said.

The Wire reached out to Gujarat’s Deputy Inspector General of Police, Dr Sudhirkumar J. Desai, to ask about the phrasing used in the SOP and allegations of it being communally motivated. This article will be updated when a response is received.

With inputs from Sharmita Kar.

Tarushi Aswani is an independent journalist.

Courtesy: The Wire

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