According to Mid-Day, the Maharashtra government, through Revenue Minister Chandrashekhar Bawankule, announced stricter norms for issuing birth and death certificates, particularly targeting “foreign nationals residing illegally.” The move followed allegations — amplified by BJP leader Kirit Somaiya — that thousands of birth certificates had been “fraudulently issued to Bangladeshi nationals.” A Special Investigation Team (SIT) was constituted, and a three-tier verification process introduced for delayed applications. Criminal prosecution was promised for those submitting allegedly “fake” documents.

On its face, preventing document fraud is a legitimate administrative objective. However, the framing of the issue — repeatedly tethered to “illegal Bangladeshis” — suggests that what is unfolding is not merely procedural tightening, but a securitised response to migration anxieties. More than anything else, privileging ruling party (read BJP) presence or dominance in the exercise makes it already suspect given the shrill (and brazenly anti-minority tones) in the party’s sloganeering on the question.

From administrative reform to political theatre

Reporting by CNBC-TV18 details that the BJP-led Brihanmumbai Municipal Corporation cancelled 237 allegedly fake birth certificates and registered eight FIRs. Mayor Ritu Tawde publicly warned –on the very day of her election as Mayor of Mumbai–of a crackdown on “illegal Bangladeshis,” linking document irregularities to encroachment drives and street vendor verification.

The rhetorical shift is telling. What began as an investigation into possible irregularities in ward-level issuance of certificates has evolved into a broader political narrative about infiltration, encroachment, and demographic anxiety. Opposition leaders, including Uddhav Thackeray, questioned whether immigration enforcement falls within the municipal corporation’s mandate — a point also noted in CNBC-TV18’s coverage. Under India’s constitutional scheme, immigration control is squarely within the Union’s domain. The municipal body’s sweeping pronouncements risk conflating administrative lapses with nationality-based suspicion.

The Times of India reported that suspended civic officials had issued birth certificates for children older than one year without court orders — clearly beyond their statutory authority. That administrative overreach requires accountability. But the same report also highlighted systemic issues: hospitals failing to submit birth details within 21 days, procedural ambiguity at the ward level, and the absence of a standard operating procedure. These institutional gaps complicate –and even lay bare–the over-simplistic narrative of organised “infiltration mafias.”

Legal obligations under the registration regime

As The Indian Express clarified, under the Registration of Births and Deaths Act, all births in civic, government, or private hospitals must be registered irrespective of nationality. This is not a discretionary welfare benefit — it is a statutory obligation tied to identity, dignity, and access to rights. The same report noted that adult applicants require background verification, but infants born in hospitals must be registered without regard to citizenship.

This distinction is critical. Birth registration is a matter of civil documentation, not immigration adjudication. Blurring the two risks undermining India’s obligations under domestic law and international human rights standards, including the child’s right to identity.

The state government’s resolution — reported by Hindustan Times — now prohibits issuance of birth certificates based solely on documents such as school-leaving certificates, Aadhaar cards, or PAN cards, and mandates police verification, talathi reports, and multi-level scrutiny for delayed applications. While greater scrutiny for delayed registrations may be justified in cases of demonstrable fraud, the cumulative effect of police involvement, publication requirements, and criminal prosecution threatens to convert a civil registration process into a quasi-criminal proceeding.

The risk of overreach and chilling effects

Sweeping reviews of all birth records since 2016, as reported by The Indian Express, represent an extraordinary administrative exercise. Such retrospective scrutiny risks casting suspicion over entire communities, particularly those already subject to profiling. The political language accompanying the drive — references to “mafia raj,” “infiltrators,” and demographic threat — compounds that risk.

In constitutional democracies, administrative reform must be proportionate and evidence-based. If specific officers exceeded their authority or accepted forged hospital documentation, targeted disciplinary and criminal action is appropriate. But when enforcement rhetoric singles out a nationality or ethnic category, it veers toward collective suspicion.

There is also a structural danger here: by insisting on police verification and multiple layers of approval for delayed registrations, the state may inadvertently make birth registration inaccessible to vulnerable populations — including internal migrants, the urban poor, and those born outside formal medical settings. The more onerous the process, the greater the incentive to remain undocumented — a perverse outcome for a system ostensibly designed to ensure accurate records.

Most critically, such subjective and selective pressures over what must be a routine and compulsory exercise, runs the risk of pushing Mumbai and Maharashtra back on registration compliance. India has not yet reached a 100 per cent mark in birth registration. Besides as UNICEF tells us “Birth registration is an essential prerequisite for legal identity and the fulfilment of children’s rights. By registering children at birth and providing a birth certificate – a passport to lifelong protection – their exposure to rights violations are minimized and their access to essential services are enabled.” Moreover, a “Functioning civil registration systems are the main vehicles through which a legal identity for all can be achieved. Such systems produce vital statistics, including those on birth registration, which are foundational for achieving sustained human and economic development. While most countries have mechanisms in place for registering births, systematic recording remains a serious challenge, highlighting the urgent need to improve and strengthen civil registration and vital statistics.”

Governance failure reframed as security crisis

Several media reports note technical glitches in the central registration portal and backlog accumulation during certain periods. Administrative dysfunction, however, is being reframed as evidence of organised foreign infiltration. This shift deflects attention from institutional reform toward securitised spectacle.

If undocumented migration is indeed a pressing concern, the responsibility for border management lies with the Union government. Municipal cancellation of certificates does not resolve border control failures. It cannot be ignored that the political spotlight on alleged “illegal Bangladeshis” coincides with the BJP’s control of the civic body — raising questions about whether document fraud is being instrumentalised as a governance narrative.

The constitutional stakes

Birth certificates are foundational identity documents. They enable access to education, healthcare, property rights, and citizenship documentation. When the state transforms their issuance into a policing exercise infused with demographic suspicion, it risks eroding procedural fairness and equal protection.

Fraud must be investigated. Officials who acted beyond their statutory authority must face consequences. But the line between lawful scrutiny and discriminatory overreach is thin — and easily crossed when political messaging foregrounds nationality rather than administrative integrity.

The current measures in Maharashtra, as reflected across reporting by press and media mentioned above, reveal more than a crackdown on paperwork irregularities. They illustrate how bureaucratic processes can become sites of political contestation — and how civil documentation regimes, if weaponised, can deepen rather than resolve anxieties around migration and belonging.

In the long term, the integrity of the registration system will depend not on securitised rhetoric, but on transparent procedures, clear statutory limits, accountability mechanisms, and a firm commitment to non-discrimination. Without these safeguards, the tightening of norms risks tightening something far more fragile: the constitutional promise of equal protection under law.

Related:

Concerns rise along Assam’s escalating pushbacks, 33 additional alleged Bangladeshis “pushed back”

Harassment by Delhi Police, blatant extortion & human rights’ violation in process of identification of “illegal Bangladeshi immigrants”: Brinda Karat to HM Amit Shah

Former MP Kirit Somaiya labels Mumbai’s Muslim community as ‘Bangladeshi’

Bordering on illegality? 18 alleged Bangladeshis “pushed back” without due process, Legal challenge filed in High Court

Deported in Silence: India’s mass expulsions of alleged Bangladeshis without due process

The post Policing Identity: Maharashtra’s birth certificate crackdown and the politics of belonging appeared first on SabrangIndia.

I was inspired by a professor whom,

I was, on record, not taught by;

He was a model to emulate

But it was not easy to try;

His commitment to the profession

Was hard to compare

The competence in his subject

Was the best by far;

His oratory and articulation

Were music to the ears

His repartee, wit and humour

Cooled any intellectual thunder;

He was a wizard of concepts

Loved to use them afresh,

Invented ideas and expressions

In existing literature not easy to trace;

He always put the principle before the person

In academic or public life

He argued for societal cohesion and harmony

Explained and advocated the exclusion of strife;

Mapping the context of an issue

Was his tool so effective

He found no phenomenon universal

It was all specific and relative;

To him, monolithism, homogenisation, majoritairianism

Were anathemas to any society,

A confirmed pluralist in his approach

Spice of life is the variety;

He carried his intellectual conviction

And an audacity of expression,

Crafted, spoke with equal sincerity

No matter the occasion.

Self-hood, integrity and credibility

Were parts of his personality,

He was meticulous and a word-keeper

Never compromising liberty or honesty;

A commitment of his presence in an event

Would not change by any high and mighty,

He treated all his hosts equal

Recognised no ranks but parity;

He was unique in

Combining pragmatism and principle

He was not to trade off either

nor ever sacrificed a scruple

His scholarship was nationally unchallenged

Internationally fairly prized

As his studied-views were unheeded by powers that be

Despair he did hardly disguise

A good human being with compassion and concern

Be them his students, colleagues or people in general

He would stretch out and reach them

With sympathy and support moral and material

I salute you professor

An author, thinker, orator, critic and commentator

Your observations and advice to us

Are invaluable problem-solvers

You were a gift of God

To the academic community, evolving polity and wider society

We will remember you ever

An ideal professor, as good as an intellectual deity.

Courtesy: The AIDEM

The post An Ode to a Professor- Remembering T.K Oommen appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Rather than emerging organically from local and lived religious practice, it sought to recast a historically plural, socially embedded river into a singular sacred geography, flattening its layered cultural, ecological and political meanings into a uniform religious spectacle.

The analogy with the Kumbh Mela is particularly revealing. In North India, the Kumbh is anchored in centuries-old institutional frameworks involving akharas, monastic orders, ritual calendars and cosmological cycles that have evolved through long-standing social consent. Bharatapuzha, by contrast, has never functioned as a Pan-Hindu pilgrimage centre. It has no historical association with mass ritual bathing, no priestly networks that regulate sacred time, and no inherited mythological mandate that binds the river to cyclical purification rites. The invocation of “Magha” rituals, the language of sin, cleansing and rebirth, and the visual grammar of saffron spectacle are recent insertions, introduced through publicity materials, digital campaigns and political speeches rather than through inherited community practice. What is being staged is not continuity but construction.

The presence of constitutional authority at the inauguration was therefore not incidental. It conferred institutional legitimacy on an invented ritual format, transforming a curated spectacle into an authorised public act, much as Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s inauguration of the newly constructed Ram Mandir in Ayodhya did. In Kerala, where religious expression has historically coexisted with strong secular institutions, such gestures alter the delicate balance between faith and governance. State endorsement converts cultural experimentation into an assertion of civilisational authenticity. The river becomes not merely a site of gathering but a stage on which new claims to cultural ownership are rehearsed and normalised.

Attempts to anchor the Mahotsavam in history frequently invoke Mamankam, the medieval assembly held periodically near the Bharatapuzha. Yet this historical analogy collapses under scrutiny. Mamankam bore little resemblance to the religious spectacle being staged today. It was neither a Hindu religious congregation nor a ritualised conflict between faiths. It was a political assembly centred on sovereignty, territorial control and the public contestation of kingship. Held once every twelve years, Mamankam was the site where the Zamorin of Calicut asserted his authority even as it was violently challenged by the Valluvanad rulers through the Chaver warriors. These warriors, drawn from specific lineages, attempted ritualised assassinations of the Zamorin, transforming the assembly into a theatre of political resistance. The purpose was not spiritual sacrifice but the destabilisation of power.

Equally central to Mamankam was its plural social composition. Muslim traders, soldiers and administrators were integral to the Zamorin’s political and economic base. Calicut’s emergence as a maritime hub depended on sustained alliances with Arab merchants, and these relationships were embedded in the very structure of power that Mamankam symbolised. To retrospectively frame Mamankam as a Hindu cultural ritual is to erase these realities and impose a communal lens that did not exist in the historical moment. Mamankam was not organised around ritual bathing, mantra recitation or priestly hierarchies. Its rituals were inseparable from warfare, trade negotiations, artistic performances and displays of military prowess.

Thus, translating Mamankam into the idiom of the Kumbh Mela strips away its political and plural character, replacing it with a homogenised religious narrative that is easier to mobilise but historically indefensible.

What distinguishes the Maha Magha Mahotsavam from earlier cultural events in Kerala is the scale and sophistication of its digital mobilisation. Social media platforms have been used not merely to publicise the festival but to frame it as a corrective to an alleged cultural suppression of Hindus in the state. This rhetoric borrows heavily from the national Hindutva lexicon, where visibility is equated with revival and dissent is recast as hostility to faith. Online narratives repeatedly position Malappuram district as a site of cultural imbalance, invoking its Muslim-majority demography to suggest that Hindu traditions require assertive reclamation. This portrayal is not new. Malappuram has long been marked in political discourse as an exception within Kerala, often detached from its historical contributions to trade, education and anti-colonial resistance. By situating a major “Hindu” event at the district’s symbolic edge, the festival implicitly marks territory.

On the ground, this rhetoric has tangible consequences. Local accounts point to heightened communal sensitivity, with Muslim residents expressing discomfort at the language used in promotional material and commentary. Pluralism is not attacked directly; it is simply bypassed. The idea of a “Hindu awakening” advanced here does not celebrate Kerala’s syncretic traditions but seeks to replace them with a uniform cultural script. In doing so, it narrows the definition of belonging and reimagines public space as an arena of assertion rather than coexistence.

Beyond ideology, the Mahotsavam raises pressing questions about environmental stewardship and public safety. Bharatapuzha is among Kerala’s most endangered rivers, its flow depleted by dams, sand mining and encroachment. Large-scale gatherings on its banks inevitably place additional stress on an already fragile ecosystem. The controversy surrounding the proposed temporary bridge illustrates the tension between spectacle and regulation. The stop memo was issued on procedural and safety grounds, including the absence of clearances and concerns over construction in a sensitive river zone. Yet sections of social media discourse reframed this administrative action as a cultural or communal slight, despite no such intent or basis in official orders. This episode highlights a deeper challenge for Kerala: how routine governance decisions are increasingly vulnerable to politicisation when wrapped in the language of faith.

Further, stampedes at religious events have demonstrated how inadequate crowd management, infrastructural shortcuts and political pressure to maximise attendance can result in tragedy. Kerala’s administrative machinery has limited experience managing events of this scale, particularly in ecologically sensitive zones. There is also the question of precedent.

Once a river is reimagined as a ritual bathing site, pressure mounts to repeat and expand such events. Environmental damage then becomes cumulative, justified in the name of a tradition that did not previously exist.

Organisers describe the Maha Magha Mahotsavam not as a culmination but as a beginning, frequently invoking 2028 as the moment when the initiative will reach its full symbolic and participatory scale. This long-term vision underscores the political nature of the project. Cultural transformation is not achieved through singular events but through repetition and institutional backing that generate familiarity; familiarity hardens into memory, and memory eventually masquerades as antiquity. This is how invented traditions become heritage.

Kerala’s historical strength has been its resistance to such flattening. Its public culture has accommodated religious expression without allowing any single narrative to monopolise history or space. The remaking of Bharatapuzha challenges this equilibrium by privileging one interpretation of the past while marginalising others. What is at stake is not merely the character of a festival but the future grammar of Kerala’s public life. Whether history is engaged as a complex inheritance or reduced to a tool of mobilisation depends on how society responds now.

Supporters present the Mahotsavam as spiritual renewal and a gateway to religious tourism, promising economic visibility and regional development. These claims cannot be dismissed outright. Kerala has long benefited from cultural tourism, and pilgrimage economies can generate livelihoods. Yet spiritual tourism is never purely economic. It reorganises space, privileges certain narratives and fixes meaning in ways that are difficult to reverse. When rituals are newly assembled rather than inherited, tourism risks converting memory into spectacle and communities into bystanders to a story told about them rather than with them.

What is unfolding along the Bharatapuzha is not a disagreement over faith but a struggle over authority: who defines culture, how memory is institutionalised, and which identities are permitted to feel native in shared spaces.

The Maha Magha Mahotsavam marks a shift from lived tradition to curated symbolism, where culture becomes less an expression of social life and more a claim to power. In this transformation, history is not engaged as complexity but recruited as an instrument.

The costs are cumulative. Socially, curated spirituality narrows belonging and renders dissent suspect. Environmentally, rivers turned into ritual stages are subjected to pressures that sanctity cannot mitigate. Historically, selective storytelling flattens the past, replacing layered inheritance with simplified images designed for mobilisation. What is lost is not only accuracy but the ethical discipline of living with contradiction.

Kerala’s pluralism was never ornamental. It was forged through negotiation, overlap and unresolved differences. The remaking of Bharatapuzha tests whether that inheritance will endure or yield to a politics that prefers clarity over truth. Culture can evolve, and tourism can coexist with tradition, but only when history remains a conversation rather than a commodity, and public space remains a site of coexistence rather than conquest.

(The author is an Indian author, political analyst and columnist. His debut book, The Essential (2023), was launched by Dr. Shashi Tharoor and features a foreword by former External Affairs Minister Salman Khurshid. His research and commentary have appeared in IJPA, Global Policy Journal, South Asian Voices, ORF, The Unpopulist, SAGE, among others, and leading dailies.He posts on ‘X’ at @ens_socialis)

Related:

Kerala MP protests RSS’ attempt to “infuse Christmas” with sectarian song

From God’s Own Country to a Hindutva Target: Kerala’s Model of Harmony Faces Persistent Threats

Christmas under siege: right-wing target Christmas celebrations across states, Punjab, Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh and Kerala

The post Hegemony: Kerala’s Bharatapuzha as a political stage appeared first on SabrangIndia.

In an open communication to Mritunjay Kumar Narayan, Registrar General and Census Commissioner of India, New Delhi the collective has recorded its objections to “why the Census could not have been carried out by 2023, as was done in 143 other countries. The reasons for delaying the Census by six years instead of two to three years have not been made public. This lack of transparency gives rise to unnecessary apprehensions in the public mind that the Census is being conducted at this juncture to enable the completion of the exercise of delimitation of constituencies in 2027-28, in time for the 2029 Lok Sabha elections.” The collective has expressed the hope that no such extraneous considerations have influenced the timing of the 2027 Census.

Besides, the open communication has stated that “We sincerely expect that the Census exercise will be unexceptionable and in conformity with the United Nations guidelines laid down in the Principles and Recommendations for Population and Housing Censuses (Revision 4 March 2025), to which India is a signatory. We understand that the main reasons for the delay in the processing and release of the data of past Censuses were: (a) the need for coding of descriptive answers to several questions; and (b) the lack of sufficient expertise within the Census Commissioner’s office to check the quality of data. Providing mobile phones to code everything at field level, where the enumerator is required to select the correct option from a dropdown menu, does not allow for correction of errors in the recorded code. Past experience, especially in the 2001 and 2011 Censuses, has shown that mere technological advance in computing facilities does not necessarily speed up release of data. There is need to be open to the possibilities of errors, with effective measures being put in place to ensure data quality.”

“Dropping questions on data items that are not required cannot be collected or where alternate sources of data are available would help in streamlining the data collection process, reducing respondent fatigue and resulting in better quality data. For example, the questions on children born/surviving are better collected in the National Family Health Surveys.

“Other Backward Classes (OBC) have not been specifically classified in the Census. The methodology for caste enumeration is yet to be announced. While one option could be to compile a list of castes for people to select from (as was done in the Bihar caste survey), we feel the better option is to leave the field open in the Census form, as was done in the 2011 Socio Economic and Caste Census (SECC). The methodology of surveying and enumerating languages could be used for condensing the Census data. However, this would require the government to keep the data open for scrutiny by scholars and involve institutions like the Anthropological Survey of India. The process can begin with collecting information on the 1369 mother tongue languages listed in the 2011 Census. An institution like the ASI could then certify the caste based on markers of common language, ancestry, lifestyle, relatives, marriages and kinship bonds.

“Data on tribes were being collected in past Censuses only from the Scheduled Tribe (ST) population. If all tribes, other than those in the ST list, are classified and recorded, a long existing injustice to the Denotified Tribe communities, which account for more than 100 million people, would be rectified.

“The issue of religion is, and has been in the past, a sensitive area for the Census. At a time when political leaders openly express their opposition to the inclusion of so-called “Bangladeshi Muslims” in the electoral rolls, care must be taken to ensure that the Census fully records the population of various minority groups in the country, covering religion, caste and tribe.

“As former civil servants, many of us have been, during our careers, involved in the Census exercises at district, state and national levels. We are sure that you will exercise the highest level of professional competence in ensuring that the upcoming Census meets the threefold goals of accuracy, transparency and accessibility.

The entire letter may be read here:

CCG LETTER TO THE REGISTRAR GENERAL AND CENSUS COMMISSIONER OF INDIA

23 February 2026

To

Shri Mritunjay Kumar Narayan

Registrar General and Census Commissioner of India

New Delhi

Dear Shri Narayan,

We are members of the Constitutional Conduct Group, a collective of former civil servants belonging to the All-India Services and the Central Services. Our group, which has no political affiliation, is committed to the promotion of the foundational values of our Republic and the observance of norms of Constitutional conduct.

We wish to bring to your attention some aspects of the 2027 Census currently under way.  The Decennial Census exercise was carried out in independent India every ten years from 1951 to 2011. While we can understand that the Census could not be carried out in 2021 because of the COVID pandemic, we fail to comprehend why the Census could not have been carried out by 2023, as was done in 143 other countries. The reasons for delaying the Census by six years instead of two to three years have not been made public. This lack of transparency gives rise to unnecessary apprehensions in the public mind that the Census is being conducted at this juncture to enable the completion of the exercise of delimitation of constituencies in 2027-28, in time for the 2029 Lok Sabha elections. We would certainly hope that no such extraneous considerations have influenced the timing of the 2027 Census.

We sincerely expect that the Census exercise will be unexceptionable and in conformity with the United Nations guidelines laid down in the Principles and Recommendations for Population and Housing Censuses (Revision 4 March 2025), to which India is a signatory. We understand that the main reasons for the delay in the processing and release of the data of past Censuses were: (a) the need for coding of descriptive answers to several questions; and (b) the lack of sufficient expertise within the Census Commissioner’s office to check the quality of data. Providing mobile phones to code everything at field level, where the enumerator is required to select the correct option from a dropdown menu, does not allow for correction of errors in the recorded code. Past experience, especially in the 2001 and 2011 Censuses, has shown that mere technological advance in computing facilities does not necessarily speed up release of data. There is need to be open to the possibilities of errors, with effective measures being put in place to ensure data quality.

Dropping questions on data items that are not required cannot be collected or where alternate sources of data are available would help in streamlining the data collection process, reducing respondent fatigue and resulting in better quality data. For example, the questions on children born/surviving are better collected in the National Family Health Surveys.

Other Backward Classes (OBC) have not been specifically classified in the Census. The methodology for caste enumeration is yet to be announced. While one option could be to compile a list of castes for people to select from (as was done in the Bihar caste survey), we feel the better option is to leave the field open in the Census form, as was done in the 2011 Socio Economic and Caste Census (SECC). The methodology of surveying and enumerating languages could be used for condensing the Census data. However, this would require the government to keep the data open for scrutiny by scholars and involve institutions like the Anthropological Survey of India. The process can begin with collecting information on the 1369 mother tongue languages listed in the 2011 Census. An institution like the ASI could then certify the caste based on markers of common language, ancestry, lifestyle, relatives, marriages and kinship bonds.

Data on tribes were being collected in past Censuses only from the Scheduled Tribe (ST) population. If all tribes, other than those in the ST list, are classified and recorded, a long existing injustice to the Denotified Tribe communities, which account for more than 100 million people, would be rectified.

The issue of religion is, and has been in the past, a sensitive area for the Census. At a time when political leaders openly express their opposition to the inclusion of so-called “Bangladeshi Muslims” in the electoral rolls, care must be taken to ensure that the Census fully records the population of various minority groups in the country, covering religion, caste and tribe.

As former civil servants, many of us have been, during our careers, involved in the Census exercises at district, state and national levels. We are sure that you will exercise the highest level of professional competence in ensuring that the upcoming Census meets the threefold goals of accuracy, transparency and accessibility.

We wish the Census exercise all success.

SATYAMEVA JAYATE

Yours sincerely,

Constitutional Conduct Group (90 signatories, as at pages 3-6 below)

The post Ensure transparency and inclusion in the 2027 Census: CCG appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Through a series of strategic legal interventions, CJP has challenged the normalisation of “state-sponsored demonisation” and the blatant misuse of administrative authority. By filing rigorous complaints with the Election Commission of India and State authorities, CJP has sought to remind those in power that welfare is a right, not a partisan incentive, and that the pulpit of a campaign rally is subject to the rule of law. Our 2025 interventions highlight a commitment to ensuring that the focus of Indian democracy remains on governance, equality, and the dignity of every citizen, regardless of their faith or political affiliation. This 2025 report details our key actions against hate offenders and the corruptive influence of communal propaganda in the democratic process.

1. Combating communal polarisation in the Delhi Assembly Elections, 2025

Complaint against Habitual Hate Offender Nazia Elahi Khan

On January 20, 2025, CJP filed a formal complaint with Delhi’s Chief Electoral Officer, R. Alice Vaz, against BJP leader and hate offender Nazia Elahi Khan for an inflammatory speech delivered in Rohini, Delih. The complaint detailed how she targeted the Muslim community with dehumanising stereotypes, falsely associating and targeting the community with inherent violence, terrorism, and “love jihad.” CJP argued that these baseless generalisations, including derogatory remarks about the Koran, were a calculated attempt to polarise voters along religious lines and disrupt communal harmony during the critical pre-election period.

The speech was flagged as a severe violation of the Model Code of Conduct (MCC) and the Representation of the People Act, 1951, specifically Sections 123(2), 123(3), and 123(3A), which prohibit using religious appeals to influence voters. CJP emphasised that such rhetoric shifts the focus from governance and policy to divisive identity politics, creating an atmosphere of fear and mistrust. By calling for a public censure and a ban on Khan’s future campaigning, CJP sought to protect the integrity of the democratic process and ensure that the Delhi elections remained focused on developmental issues rather than communal anxieties.

CJP seeks action against BJP Councillor for communal campaigning

Similarly, on January 10, 2025, CJP also filed a complaint with the Chief Electoral Officer of Delhi against BJP Councillor Ravinder Singh Negi for an inflammatory speech delivered during a January 6 election event in Patparganj. The complaint outlines that Negi utilised divisive communal narrative for electoral gain, referring to Muslims as “descendants of the Mughals” and asserting that only “Jai Shree Ram” would dominate India. CJP argued that these remarks were a deliberate attempt to communalise the election process, painting the Hindu community as victims in need of protection from an alleged Muslim threat.

The complaint highlights that Negi’s speech stigmatises Muslims by linking them to past rulers and spreads fear regarding population growth, specifically citing West Bengal. By invoking the Kashmiri Pandit exodus and events in Bangladesh, the speech exploited communal sentiments to stoke fear rather than addressing policy issues.

CJP emphasised that such language violates Sections 123(2), 123(3), and 123(3A) of the Representation of the People Act, 1951, which prohibit undue influence and religious appeals. Furthermore, CJP noted that this discourse aggravates communal tensions and breaches the Model Code of Conduct, challenging the democratic integrity of the Delhi elections.

2. Intervening in the Bihar Assembly Elections 2025: combatting “Hate, Fear, and Violence”

• Complaint against Ashok Kumar Yadav: ridicule and coercive loyalty

CJP on October 30, 2025, approached the CEO Bihar against hate speech in Darbhanga on October 16, 2025, where Madhubani MP Ashok Kumar Yadav addressed “Muslim brothers,” instructing them to say “tauba tauba” and renounce government benefits like free grain and gas cylinders. CJP’s complaint describes the speech as “mocking religious practice and publicly demanding a ritual renunciation of entitlements,” amounting to psychological coercion. By equating welfare use with political loyalty and faith with betrayal, Yadav’s speech redefined citizenship as conditional, fusing spiritual vocabulary with partisan mobilisation.

CJP argues that mocking religious language and demanding a ritual renunciation of state-built roads and bridges constitutes “undue influence.” This bombast moves from ridicule to coercion, framing welfare schemes not as rights but as favours to be repaid through political allegiance. Those who refuse are branded as “ungrateful,” turning a phrase of repentance into a performative punishment. The legal core remains clear: these are prima facie offences that weaken the constitutional promise of free and fair elections, where what begins as a jest ends as an exclusionary policy.

• Complaint against Giriraj Singh: public loyalty tests and humiliation

CJP on October 29, 2025, approached the CEO Bihar regarding Union Minister Giriraj Singh’s speeches in Arwal and Begusarai on October 18 and 19, 2025, transformed gratitude for welfare into a religious oath of political loyalty. In Arwal, he asked a “Maulvi” to swear “on Khuda” to acknowledge benefits received under the government, declaring, “I don’t need votes from namakharam people.”

In Begusarai, Giriraj Singh manipulated the word “haram” into a slur, questioning the faith and morality of Muslims who did not vote for the BJP. The complaint describes these statements as “coercive and communal,” violating the Model Code of Conduct’s (MCC) ban on religious appeals. CJP sought immediate action, including FIR registration under the BNS for promoting enmity, framing the language as “a public loyalty test administered through humiliation.”

CJP stated in its complaint that these speeches fall within the definition of “corrupt practice” under Section 123(2) of the RPA. By identifying an internal enemy and demanding a religious oath for political support. The strategy reinforces a hierarchy where welfare schemes—rations, gas cylinders, and Ayushman cards—are presented as debts owed to the ruling party. This sequence demonstrates how easily populist politics collapses faith into allegiance and citizenship into a privilege contingent on identity.

• Complaint against Nityanand Rai: xenophobia and state-sanctioned exclusion

CJP also filed a complaint the local authorities of the Election Commission of India (ECI) on October 30, 2025, that stated that on October 22, 2025, in Hayaghat, Union Minister Nityanand Rai pivoted from religious invocations to overt nationalism and xenophobia, targeting those wearing “reshmi salwar and topi (mode of dress and skull cap).” He claimed that “Bangladeshi and Rohingya infiltrators” were taking away the livelihoods of Bihar’s youth and insisted they must be excluded from voter lists.

The complaint noted the gravity of a Home Ministry official using xenophobic tropes, arguing such speech carries “the force of state policy” when uttered by a minister responsible for internal security. Rai’s rhetoric blends three distinct offences: an appeal to religion, the vilification of a religious group, and the use of ministerial office to threaten administrative exclusion. This prepared the ground for Union Home Minister Amit Shah’s speech in Siwan, which explicitly promised to “identify and expel each and every individual ghuspaithiya (infiltrator).”

Together, these speeches identify a community as outsiders usurping entitlements and anti-national threats. This progression reveals a tested campaign grammar where the trope of the “infiltrator” shifts the narrative from faith to belonging. When senior ministers use the language of exclusion, the threat carries bureaucratic plausibility, replacing the right to participate as an equal citizen with a test of loyalty and threat of removal.

Complaint against Assam CM Himanta Biswa Sarma and AIMIM’s Tausif Alam

In two formal complaints submitted on November 10, 2025, CJP moved the Bihar Chief Electoral Officer and DGP against Assam CM Himanta Biswa Sarma and AIMIM’s Tausif Alam. The complaints highlight a dangerous shift where hate and threats have replaced democratic debate during the Bihar election campaign. CJP called for urgent action, highlighting how “hate, fear, and violence” have been weaponised to replace civic discourse.

• Assam CM Himanta Biswa Sarma (Siwan Rally)

At an election rally on November 4, 2025, in Raghunathpur, Siwan, Assam CM Himanta Biswa Sarma delivered a speech that CJP described as “state-sponsored demonisation.” Sarma compared RJD candidate Osama Shahab to the global terrorist Osama bin Laden, urging the audience to “eliminate all Osama Bin Ladens” from Bihar.

The complaint notes that he framed the election as a Hindu versus Muslim battle, invoking figures like Babur and Aurangzeb and declaring that a victory for the opposition would be a “defeat for Hindus.” He further boasted about stopping salaries for “mullahs” and characterised Muslims as “infiltrators” threatening the safety of women. CJP argues this statements constitutes an “incitement to exterminatory politics” and a direct breach of the Ministerial Code of Conduct, as a sitting CM holds a heightened responsibility for neutrality.

• Tausif Alam (Kishanganj Rally)

Within 24 hours of the Siwan speech, AIMIM’s Tausif Alam delivered a retaliatory address at Laucha Naya Haat, Kishanganj. In response to RJD’s Tejashwi Yadav calling Asaduddin Owaisi an “extremist,” Alam issued a direct threat of grievous bodily harm. He told the crowd that “I will cut his eyes, fingers, and tongue if he dares insult Owaisi Sahab again.”

The complaint flags this as a “direct threat of physical mutilation” and a calculated attempt to intimidate political rivals. By replacing civic discourse with “open intimidation and violent abuse,” Alam’s speech is cited as a violation of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita and the Representation of the People Act.

3. Targeted demographic hate speech in Pirpainti, Bhagalpur

On November 13, 2025, CJP filed a complaint with the Chief Electoral Officer of Bihar and the DGP against BJP MP Ashwini Kumar Choubey for inflammatory remarks made during a campaign in Pirpainti, Bhagalpur on November 9.

The complaint asserts that Choubey utilised his platform to deliver deeply communal and derogatory statements that directly target the Muslim population under the guise of national security. By appealing to the community to “reduce their population” and explicitly linking them to “ghuspaithiye” (infiltrators) allegedly crossing the border, the speech is described as hate propaganda that seeks to delegitimise the citizenship of Indian Muslims.

Remarks that constitute a “direct communal appeal” and “demographic vilification”

The complaint highlights specific statements where Choubey invoked demographic myths to create fear, stating that while the government provides infrastructure to all, the rising population of a specific community and the influx of infiltrators represent a threat of “vote theft.”

CJP argues that these remarks constitute a “direct communal appeal” and “demographic vilification,” violating Section 123 of the Representation of the People Act, 1951, which prohibits religious appeals and the promotion of enmity. Furthermore, the speech is flagged under Sections 196 and 356 of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023, for outraging group dignity and promoting mischief.

Consequently, CJP in its complaint demanded the registration of an FIR, a ban on his further campaigning, and a public censure from the Election Commission.

4. Complaint against Ojing Tasing for electoral misconduct in Arunachal Pradesh

On December 9, 2025, CJP submitted an urgent complaint to Election Commission of India Arunachal Pradesh, regarding coercive and unlawful threats made during a campaign rally in Lower Dibang Valley on December 3, 2025. During the election period, the Minister unequivocally declared that panchayat segments where the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) loses will be denied government development schemes. He was recorded stating:

“Government schemes will not go to those panchayat segments where the BJP is defeated… I do what I say. As the panchayati raj minister, I mean what I say.”

CJP stated that these remarks constitute a direct abuse of state power and a misuse of official authority to influence voter behavior. By conditioning taxpayer-funded welfare on partisan victory, the Minister has transformed essential governance into a tool of political extortion. Such actions represent a textbook case of undue influence and intimidation, weaponising public resources to coerce the electorate.

CJP asserts that these statements violate Sections 123(1), 123(2), and 123(7) of the Representation of the People Act, 1951, which prohibit bribery, undue influence, and the abuse of official positions. Furthermore, they breach the Model Code of Conduct (MCC), which forbids linking development schemes to voting patterns. Constitutionally, the Minister’s threats violate Article 14 (Equality) and Article 15 (Prohibition of discrimination), as government benefits must be distributed without political prejudice.

Consequently, CJP seek immediate action, including the issuance of a show-cause notice, a ban on further campaigning, the registration of an FIR for criminal intimidation, and a recommendation for the Minister’s removal from office to preserve the integrity of the democratic process.

CJP’s intervention in the Jubilee Hills by-election roadshow in Hyderabad against communal and derogatory appeals

CJP on November 11, 2025, approached the CEO Telangana regarding a complaint against BJP leader Bandi Sanjay Kumar for making communal and derogatory appeals during the Jubilee Hills by-election roadshow in Hyderabad. Kumar allegedly mocked Muslim religious practices, specifically the skull cap and namaz, while invoking his Hindu identity as a mark of “authenticity.” He reportedly stated, “If a day comes when I must wear a skull cap for votes, I’d rather cut off my head,” and asserted he would not “insult other faiths by faking a namaz.”

CJP’s complaint argues that these remarks, aimed at polarising voters and deriding opponents like Chief Minister Revanth Reddy, constitute a trifold offence against the Model Code of Conduct (MCC), the Representation of the People Act, 1951 (RPA), and the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023 (BNS). By framing religious inclusivity as deceit and “vote-seeking hypocrisy,” the speech is characterised as hate speech intended to incite communal contempt.

5. CJP’s intervention against communal dog-whistles

CJP moved the Election Commission of India and the State Election Commission, Maharashtra, on December 19, 2025, seeking urgent action against BJP Mumbai President Ameet Satam for making inflammatory and hate-based remarks during a political event in Malad West. The complaint details how Satam, while the Model Code of Conduct was in force, delivered a speech alleging that “jihadis” had infiltrated the Goregaon Sports Club and accused Muslims of facilitating Rohingya and Bangladeshi migrants in illegally acquiring land and identity documents.

The complaint asserted that by propagating conspiracy narratives such as “vote jihad” and “land jihad,” Satam is accused of criminalising an entire religious community and using demographic fear to polarise the electorate.

CJP’s argues that such dehumanising tactics, which portrays Muslim citizens as conspirators and threats to governance, erodes the constitutional principles of equality and secularism. Consequently, CJP has sought immediate sanctions, including a show-cause notice and restrictions on Satam’s campaigning, to preserve the integrity of the electoral process and prevent the normalisation of communal targeting.

6. Constitutional and legal breaches: CJP’s multi-pronged legal strategy

Across all interventions in 2025, CJP has observed a recurring pattern of violations that threaten the very core of India’s democratic machinery. The complaints filed by CJP emphasise the following legal and constitutional anchors:

• Representation of the People Act (RPA), 1951: Section 123(2) (Undue Influence): Whether it is Ojing Tasing threatening to cut off funds in Arunachal Pradesh or Tausif Alam threatening physical violence in Bihar, both constitute a direct interference with the free exercise of electoral rights through coercion.
• Section 123(3) & (3A): The interventions against Bandi Sanjay Kumar’s religious mockery and the inflammatory speeches of Nazia Elahi Khan and Ravinder Negi exemplify the prohibited use of religious symbols and the promotion of enmity between different classes of citizens for electoral gain.
• The Model Code of Conduct (MCC): The MCC is designed to ensure a level playing field. CJP’s rigorous complaints against Himanta Biswa Sarma and Ashwini Kumar Choubey highlight how the misuse of government machinery and the making of communal appeals—under the guise of “national security”—violate the spirit of “free and fair elections.”
• Constitutional Mandates: Articles 14 & 15: These articles mandate that the State cannot discriminate against citizens. Using welfare schemes as a “reward” or a “threat” for voting patterns is a direct subversion of the right to equality.
• Article 21: The right to live with dignity is compromised when voters are intimidated into submission through the threat of economic deprivation, physical harm, or state-sanctioned demonisation.

Conclusion

The interventions of 2025 demonstrate that the battle for India’s democracy is increasingly being fought in the arena of public discourse. When elected representatives and political leaders feel emboldened to use “exterminatory politics,” “political extortion,” or “hate propaganda” as campaign tools, the role of civil society as a constitutional vanguard becomes more critical than ever. CJP’s year-long campaign has consistently unmasked how communal dog-whistles and the weaponization of welfare are used to replace democratic choice with coercion.

CJP remains dedicated to the principle that public welfare schemes—funded by taxpayers—belong to the people, not to a political party. We believe that the secular foundation of our Constitution is not a mere suggestion but a mandatory framework for all political participation. Our documented cases from Bihar to Arunachal Pradesh, and from Delhi to Telangana, serve as a reminder that the pulpit of a campaign rally is subject to the rule of law.

As we move into 2026, CJP will continue to monitor, document, and intervene, even legally challenge every attempt to substitute constitutional justice with communal revenge, ensuring that the integrity of the Indian electoral mandate remains protected from the corruptive influence of hate.

Related:

Law as Resistance: A year of CJP’s interventions against a rising tide of hate

Fighting Hate in 2024: How CJP Held Power to Account

2024: CJP’s battle against communal rallies before and after they unfold

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Interestingly, the theme for this year’s Justice Day is ‘Renewed commitment to Social Development and Social Justice’. The theme follows the momentum of the Second World Summit for Social Development which was held in Doha, Qatar, from November 4-6, 2025, and the adoption of the Doha Political Declaration, which underscores a shared global responsibility to eradicate poverty and expand decent work.

The theme has some key objectives which include poverty eradication (promoting systems that reduce social exclusion and poverty); decent work (advocating for fair wages, safe working conditions, and labour rights); inclusive growth: (ensuring marginalised groups have equal access to resources and decision-making); global peace (recognising that social justice is an indispensable foundation for maintaining international peace and security).

All this is easier said than done – one can easily term these goals as idealistic! In India, the cries for justice, are becoming louder and longer! They come from different segments of society and particularly from those who continue to be exploited and excluded! These cries are heart-rending: anyone with an iota of conscience will hear them! The sad and tragic reality is that these cries will remain unheard; those who need to hear these cries and to respond to them, have deadened their ears and hardened their hearts!

According to a well-researched working paper (published late in 2024) ‘Income and Wealth Inequality in India, 1922-2023: The Rise of the Billionaire Raj’, inequality in India has skyrocketed since the early 2000s, with the income and wealth share of the top one per cent of the population rising to 22.6 per cent and 40.1 per cent, respectively, in 2022-23. The paper further stated that between 2014-15 and 2022-23, the rise of top-end inequality has been particularly pronounced in terms of wealth concentration. In India the rich become richer and the poor become poorer. The cries of the poor have become louder and shriller!

On the 2024 Environmental Performance Index (EPI), India is ranked at a pathetically low position of 176 out of 180 countries. The low ranking is due to poor air quality, high projected emissions and low biodiversity scores. The EPI uses 58 indicators to assess a country’s environmental performance. Indicators, include biodiversity, air pollution, air and water quality, waste management, emission growth rates, projected emissions, etc., under the three main heads of ecosystem vitality, environmental health and climate change. To assess how well countries are safeguarding their natural treasures, the EPI added a new category: biodiversity and habitat. This category revealed a worrying trend – many protected areas worldwide are being overtaken by buildings and agriculture. India’s heavy reliance on coal is a key factor hindering its environmental performance across multiple indicators. Coal use not only fuels high greenhouse gas emissions but also contributes significantly to India’s severe air pollution problem. This is reflected in India’s rankings: 177 for air quality (above only Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Nepal). India, we are all aware, boasts of some of the most polluted cities in the world. The people of India cry out for environmental justice!

In the 2025 World Press Freedom Index, released by ‘Reporters Without Borders’, India ranked 151 out of 180 countries, with a score of 32.9; the country remains in the “very serious” category for journalists. The index highlights concern over media concentration, political pressure, and attacks on journalists! In a country which is dominated by ‘godified’ media – it is not easy to speak truth to power! Any media house (be it print or electronic) if it takes on the Government – are denied Government advertisements(revenue) and have the ED, the CBI, Income-tax, NIA and other statutory bodies (who have become pliable instruments in the hands of a vindictive regime) breathing on them, raiding them and creating untold suffering on them. A free press is sine qua non in a democracy – and world leaders and Governments have taken on India on this score. A churlish attitude of a fascist regime that is too frightened to face the truth! On 20 February, the 2026 amendments to India’s IT Rules, 2021will be made effective. The new rules enforce strict, immediate accountability for social media and AI platforms, requiring 3-hour takedowns of deepfakes/illegal content, mandatory AI labelling, and 24/7 monitoring. The Government wants to throttle freedom of speech and expression. Those who cherish freedom of the press, of speech and expression cry out for justice!

An estimated 400 million people work in India’s informal sector, on low daily wages and with no contract, pension, paid holidays or health benefits and above all, poor working conditions. The vast majority of them are migrant workers; they are scattered all over the country, who speak different languages. Migrant workers normally cannot defend themselves. When they go to another state, they don’t even speak the local language. No one inspects the premises to check working conditions are safe. They don’t even feature in the records of the local state government. They are invisible. Besides, on 21 November 2025, the Government began implementing the four Labour Codes (Code on Wages, Industrial Relations Code, Social Security Code, and OSHWC Code. These codes have faced intense criticism from trade unions and opposition parties who label them “anti-worker”. They are violative of the rights of workers and favour the employers particularly, the corporate sector! The rural poor are deprived of the MGNREGA scheme. The labourers and the rural poor of India cry out for justice!

Freedom to preach, practise and propagate one’s religion is in the doldrums. At the receiving end, are the minorities particularly the Muslims, Christians and Sikhs. These minorities are consistently targeted: intimidated and harassed,denigrated and demonised, attacked and even killed. India is rock-bottom where the treatment of minorities is concerned. Thousands of Muslims have lost their homes because of demolition raj! the so-called ‘anti-conversion’ laws in several states – are all designed and directed towards the systematic targeting of the minorities in the country. There is much more: what minorities and other vulnerable groups eat, wear, see and read has become the bane of several from the majority community. Livelihoods of minorities are destroyed; Government employment is not given to someone from a minority community – even if the person meets the required competence and has the necessary qualifications. Venomous hate speeches against the minorities have become the order of the day. Those who spew them, do so with gay abandon- because they know that no one will touch them! The U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom (USCIRF) 2025 Annual Report has recommended for the sixth consecutive time that the U.S. State Department designate India as a “Country of Particular Concern” (CPC) due to “systematic, ongoing, and egregious” religious freedom violations. The report cites increased attacks on Christians and Muslims, impunity for perpetrators, and the misuse of laws to target minorities.

The Special Intensive Revision(SIR) has disenfranchised hundreds and thousands of citizens all over the country. Most of them belong the minority communities and to the poorer sections of society. With Census 2027 on the threshold, the reality for the entire country will perhaps become even worse! Then there is the whole process of delimitation and even delisting of tribals/adivasis who have embraced Christianity or Islam. These are all highly manipulative and unconstitutional acts of the ruling regime to establish a Hindutva control of the country. The people of India cry out for Justice and against disenfranchisement!

There is a systematic attack on the sacred, secular and democratic ethos of the country! The ruling regime clearly has a ‘method in their madness’. There is a serious lack of political will to address systemic burning issues which have gripped the nation. There are hurried, biased legislation and prejudiced policies (all designed to decimate the Constitution) which include the National Education Policy, the Citizenship Amendment Act, the anti – conversion laws, the anti-farmer laws, the four anti-worker and pro-corporate labour codes which after a long lull have suddenly become ‘implementable, the Universal Civil Code, the ‘One Nation, One Election’, the Waqf Bill, the Imposition of Hindi as the national language, Constitutional bodies like the Election Commission (which is blatantly biased) the Enforcement Directorate, the Central Bureau of Investigation, the National Investigation Agency(NIA), the police and even sections of the judiciary (the new CJI does not have an impressive track –record) are compromised; they have become ‘Caged Parrots’. Corruption has become the new normal, with this regime! First, it was demonetisation; then, the scam of the Electoral Bonds. We the people of India cry out for justice which is enshrined in our Constitution!

There are several other segments of society who cry out for justice; these include women and children, those of the LGBTQIA+ community, refugees, academics and others from civil society, human rights defenders, others belonging to vulnerable and marginalised sections of society. Above all,there are those who are victims of a heartless, unjust, insensitive and discriminatory society! The list is endless!  It is not without reason that India is ranked 86 out of 143 countries worldwide in the WJP (worldjusticeproject) Rule of Law Index 2025. A great shame indeed! India has a long way to go in the realisation of poverty eradication, ensuring decent work for all, mainstreaming inclusive growth and above all bringing peace to all! The people of  India cry out loudly  and unequivocally for justice!

The challenge today is to get the powers that be, to listen. And act!

( The author is a human rights, reconciliation and peace activist & writer)

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Protest in 2025 was neither exceptional nor episodic. It formed part of the routine functioning of a democratic society in which citizens repeatedly turned to collective action when institutional mechanisms proved inadequate or unresponsive. From workers and farmers to students, environmental defenders, and religious minorities, different groups asserted their claims through peaceful assemblies, strikes, marches, sit-ins, and, at times, confrontational resistance.

Farmers returned to the streets years after the repeal of the farm laws because core demands remained unaddressed. Workers mobilised because new labour regimes threatened job security and social protection. Students protested because universities were being reshaped without consultation, autonomy, or academic rationale. Indigenous communities resisted development projects that endangered land, forests, rivers, and cultural survival. Women-led care workers demanded recognition of labour that the state depends upon but refuses to formalise. LGBTQIA+ communities marched not for symbolic inclusion, but for tangible civil rights denied through legislative inaction.

Equally significant was the geographic spread of these protests. They were not confined to metropolitan centres or politically oppositional states. Demonstrations occurred in border regions, hill states, conflict zones, university towns, industrial belts, forest villages, and district headquarters. This dispersion reflected a deeper reality: that the pressures producing dissent were systemic rather than sectoral.

The State’s response formed a critical backdrop to these mobilisations. Increasingly, protest was governed through prohibitory orders, preventive detentions, mass registration of FIRs, denial of permissions, barricading of public spaces, internet restrictions, and aggressive policing. Laws originally framed as exceptional—such as national security statutes or public safety legislation—were routinely invoked against demonstrators, students, and organisers. The language of governance shifted decisively from negotiation to control.

This year-ender documents these protests chronologically, treating each mobilisation as a distinct political event rooted in its own context. It does not seek to romanticise dissent or frame protest as crisis, but to record how public action functioned as a means of negotiation, contestation, and constitutional engagement throughout the year.

January 2025: Fragmented beginnings, shared democratic anxiety

1. Universities push back against the draft UGC regulations, 2025

January opened with Indian universities acting as early warning systems for democratic erosion. Students and faculty across campuses mobilised against the Draft UGC Regulations, 2025, which proposed fundamental changes to the governance of higher education. The regulations sought to centralise power in the hands of the Union government by altering Vice-Chancellor appointment processes, diluting academic qualifications, and legitimising the induction of non-academic ‘industry experts’ into university leadership.

Left-leaning Students’ Federation of India (SFI) organised marches, classroom boycotts, public readings of the draft regulations, and discussions highlighting how these changes threatened institutional autonomy. Faculty associations warned that the proposals undermined peer review, disciplinary expertise, and the principle of universities as self-governing communities. The protests framed higher education as a constitutional public good linked to equality and freedom of thought, rather than as a market-driven enterprise.

2. Trade Unions place economic justice at the centre of the budget debate

Parallel to campus mobilisations, organised labour intervened in the Union Budget process. Ten Central Trade Unions (CTUs) submitted a joint memorandum to the Union Finance Minister ahead of the 2025–26 Budget. The memorandum foregrounded unemployment, inflation, contractualisation of labour, and the erosion of social security.

Workers demanded the filling of vacant public sector posts, expansion of MGNREGA to 200 days with enhanced wages, introduction of an urban employment guarantee, restoration of the Old Pension Scheme, and a halt to privatisation and disinvestment. The memorandum underscored that fiscal policy choices have direct constitutional implications for the right to livelihood and social justice.

3. Farmers reclaim Republic Day as a site of constitutional assertion

On January 26, farmers once again occupied public space through tractor rallies organised by the Samyukta Kisan Morcha across northern and central India. The rallies reiterated unresolved demands following the repeal of the farm laws, including a legal guarantee of Minimum Support Price, loan waivers, compensation for families of deceased protesters, and withdrawal of criminal cases against farmer leaders.

By mobilising on Republic Day, farmers deliberately linked their demands to constitutional promises of dignity, equality, and economic justice. The presence of tractors in urban centres challenged narratives of growth that marginalise agrarian distress.

February 2025: Labour, pensions, and the crisis of secure employment

1. Nationwide government employees’ protests against the new pension scheme

Throughout February, government employees across states organised coordinated demonstrations demanding the restoration of the Old Pension Scheme (OPS). Rallies, organised by 10 central trade unions and independent sectoral federations and associations, were held in state capitals, district headquarters, and outside secretariats, with participation from teachers, clerical staff, engineers, health workers, and employees of public sector undertakings. Protesters argued that the New Pension Scheme (NPS), which links retirement benefits to market performance, fundamentally undermines the principle of social security.

Many participants highlighted that deductions from salaries over decades no longer translated into guaranteed post-retirement income. Retired employees spoke publicly about sharp reductions in expected pensions, while younger workers expressed anxiety about their future in the absence of defined benefits. The protests framed pensions not as a fiscal burden, but as deferred wages and a constitutional obligation of the welfare state.

State governments responded unevenly. While some engaged in negotiations, others invoked prohibitory orders and restricted assemblies. The persistence of these protests throughout the month underscored the depth of discontent among salaried public servants.

2. Trade Union mobilisation against the four Labour Codes

February also saw intensified mobilisation against the four Labour Codes passed earlier but yet to be fully implemented. Central trade unions organised gate meetings, factory-level demonstrations, and citywide rallies in industrial belts and banking centres. Workers argued that the Codes diluted protections relating to job security, union recognition, collective bargaining, and workplace safety.

Union leaders warned that provisions allowing longer working hours, simplified retrenchment processes, and reduced inspection mechanisms would institutionalise precarity. The protests connected labour law reform to broader economic trends—privatisation, contractualisation, and informalisation—arguing that the Codes formalised employer dominance.

Police presence was heavy in several cities, and union leaders were briefly detained during demonstrations. Despite this, protests continued across the month, signalling organised labour’s refusal to accept the Codes without substantive revision.

3. Education sector protests in Kerala against draft UGC Regulations

In Kerala, February witnessed sustained protests by teachers and academics against the Draft UGC Regulations. Under the banner of the All India Save Education Committee, faculty members organised marches, seminars, and symbolic actions including the public burning of draft copies. These protests explained in detail how the regulations threatened academic autonomy by centralising appointments and diluting qualification norms.

Speakers at the protest warned that universities would be transformed into administratively controlled entities, undermining peer review and disciplinary expertise. The protests framed education as a constitutional instrument of social justice rather than a market-driven service. The sustained nature of the protests reflected deep concern within the academic community.

4. Samsung workers continue sit-in against union suppression in Tamil Nadu 

Workers at Samsung India Electronics Limited’s Kancheepuram facility continued a sit-in protest that entered its fifteenth day on February 19, following the suspension of three office-bearers of the Samsung India Workers Union (SIWU). The union alleged that the suspensions were retaliatory and aimed at weakening collective bargaining.

The protest centred on two demands: reinstatement of the suspended union leaders and an end to the company’s reliance on contract labour. Workers accused the management of acting without due process, including suspending leaders without issuing show-cause notices.

Family members of workers joined the protest, underscoring the broader social impact of the labour dispute. The union announced plans to escalate the agitation if negotiations failed, including serving a strike notice.

The standoff highlighted ongoing tensions in India’s manufacturing sector over unionisation, labour rights, and state labour department intervention.

March 2025: Gendered labour and environmental resistance

1. Anganwadi and ASHA workers’ indefinite secretariat protest in Kerala

March marked one of the most sustained women-led protests of the year. Thousands of Anganwadi and ASHA workers gathered outside the Kerala Secretariat, launching an indefinite sit-in. These workers—central to nutrition delivery, maternal health, vaccination, and disease surveillance—demanded minimum wages of ₹21,000, recognition as government employees, pension benefits, and retirement security.

Protesters detailed long working hours, expanding responsibilities, and stagnant honorariums that failed to reflect their workload. Many women spoke of debt, health issues, and the absence of social protection despite decades of service. The protest highlighted how the welfare state relies on feminised labour while refusing formal recognition.

Negotiations with the government remained inconclusive, and police barricading restricted movement around protest sites. The sit-in continued through the month, becoming a focal point of labour resistance.

2. University of Hyderabad students defend the Kancha Gachibowli Forest

Students at the University of Hyderabad organised sustained protests against the proposed auction of the Kancha Gachibowli forest for commercial development. Marches, sit-ins, poster campaigns, and night-long vigils framed the forest as an ecological commons vital to the city’s environmental health.

Protesters demanded transparency, environmental impact assessments, and public consultation. They warned that urban expansion without ecological safeguards would exacerbate climate vulnerability. The protests linked environmental protection to democratic planning and the right to the city.

April 2025: Preventive Laws and the Criminalisation of Dissent

1. Statewide Mobilisation Against the Maharashtra Special Public Safety Bill

April saw widespread protests across Maharashtra against the proposed Maharashtra Special Public Safety Bill. Civil liberties organisations, lawyers’ collectives, farmers’ unions, student groups, and political parties organised district-level marches and public meetings. Protesters warned that the Bill’s vague definitions would enable preventive detention of activists without adequate judicial oversight.

Legal experts explained provisions clause by clause at protest sites, transforming demonstrations into spaces of constitutional education. The protests stressed that normalising preventive laws erodes the presumption of innocence and chills democratic participation.

Despite heavy police presence and restrictions on assemblies, protests continued throughout the month, forcing public debate on the Bill’s implications.

May 2025: Indigenous Land, Development, and Militarisation

1. Protests against the Siang upper multipurpose project in Arunachal Pradesh

Indigenous communities in Arunachal Pradesh organised continuous protests against the proposed 11,000 MW Siang Upper Multipurpose Project. Under the Siang Indigenous Farmers’ Forum, villagers held sit-ins, road blockades, and village assemblies opposing displacement and ecological destruction.

Resistance intensified following the deployment of armed forces to facilitate survey work. Protesters described the move as intimidation, particularly in the absence of free, prior, and informed consent under the Forest Rights Act. Women led many of the protests, asserting custodianship over land, rivers, and cultural heritage.

The movement framed development as a political choice rather than a neutral necessity, demanding community consent as a binding requirement.

2. Tamil Nadu sugarcane farmers demand higher FRP and revival of SAP

Sugarcane farmers in Tamil Nadu held protests in Chennai demanding a Fair and Remunerative Price (FRP) of ₹5,500 per tonne and the reinstatement of the State Advisory Price (SAP) by scrapping the revenue sharing formula introduced in 2018. The agitation was led by the Tamil Nadu Sugarcane Farmers Association (TNSFA), affiliated to the All India Kisan Sabha.

Farmers argued that the Union government’s announced FRP of ₹3,550 per tonne for the 2025 season was insufficient to cover rising input costs. They reiterated demands for implementation of the M.S. Swaminathan Commission’s recommendation of MSP at C2+50, warning that current pricing policies were accelerating the decline of sugarcane cultivation in the state.

The protest also highlighted long-pending dues of ₹1,217 crore owed by private sugar mills for procurements between 2013 and 2017. Farmers accused mills of delaying payments despite legal obligations under the Sugar Control Order, 1966, and demanded immediate disbursal of arrears.

Additionally, farmers called for the reopening of closed cooperative sugar mills, citing mismanagement and policy failures. They argued that reviving these mills would not only ensure fair procurement prices but also provide rural employment and stabilise the sugar economy in Tamil Nadu.

June 2025: Rights, Recognition, and the Limits of Constitutional Morality

1. Pride marches as claims to substantive citizenship

June 2025 marked a significant shift in the character of Pride marches across India. Held in Delhi, Mumbai, Bengaluru, Kolkata, Chennai, Hyderabad, and several smaller cities, Pride this year unfolded in the immediate aftermath of the Supreme Court’s refusal to recognise same-sex marriage, with the Court deferring responsibility to Parliament. This context fundamentally shaped the tone of the marches.

Participants framed Pride not as a celebration alone, but as a protest against legislative inertia. Placards, speeches, and manifestos articulated concrete demands: civil unions, inheritance and succession rights, joint adoption, medical decision-making authority, spousal benefits, and protection from discrimination in housing and employment. Protesters repeatedly emphasised that the absence of legal recognition translated into material precarity—particularly for queer persons estranged from natal families or excluded from informal social safety nets.

The marches also reflected generational differences within the movement. Older activists spoke of decades lost to criminalisation under Section 377 and warned against courts retreating from their role as protectors of minority rights. Younger participants highlighted intersections with caste, class, disability, and religion, arguing that queer exclusion compounds existing vulnerabilities.

Police presence was visible but restrained in most cities, though organisers reported heightened surveillance and bureaucratic hurdles in securing permissions. The marches collectively underscored a central contradiction: constitutional morality invoked in judgments remains hollow without legislative and administrative follow-through.

2. Mass mobilisation at Azad Maidan against Maharashtra Special Public Safety Bill 

Thousands gathered at Mumbai’s Azad Maidan on June 30 to protest the proposed Maharashtra Special Public Safety Bill, 2024, which critics described as a sweeping law aimed at curbing dissent. The protest brought together people’s movements, Left parties, and opposition formations under the Maha Vikas Aghadi (MVA), marking one of the largest coordinated mobilisations against the Bill.

The demonstration was organised primarily by the CPI(M) and CPI, with participation from trade unions, student organisations, farmers’ groups, and civil liberties collectives. Leaders from the Shiv Sena (UBT), Congress, and NCP (Sharad Pawar faction) attended, signalling a broad political consensus against the proposed legislation.

Addressing the gathering, CPI(M) state secretary Ajit Nawale characterised the protest as a decisive stand against what organisers viewed as an authoritarian expansion of state power. Protesters travelled from across Maharashtra, responding to calls to oppose provisions that allegedly allow for preventive action against vaguely defined threats to public order.

With the Bill expected to be tabled in the monsoon session of the Assembly, the mobilisation underscored growing concerns about legal frameworks that, according to critics, could be used to target activists, political opponents, and marginalised communities under the guise of public security.

July 2025: Mass Mobilisation and the Convergence of Long-Standing Struggles

1. Adivasi resistance to Forest Department overreach in Chhattisgarh

In July, Adivasi communities across Chhattisgarh intensified protests against forest department actions that curtailed Community Forest Resource (CFR) rights recognised under the Forest Rights Act (FRA), 2006. Large rallies were held in Bastar, Surguja, Dantewada, and Kanker districts, drawing participation from village councils and grassroots organisations.

Protesters detailed how administrative circulars and evictions undermined Gram Sabha authority. Marches culminated in district headquarters, where memoranda were submitted demanding withdrawal of orders that violated statutory rights. The protests were marked by repeated assertions of the constitutional principle that development and conservation cannot proceed by dispossessing Indigenous communities.

Police monitored demonstrations closely, and in some areas, prohibitory orders were imposed. Despite this, mobilisation continued throughout the month, reflecting deep-rooted resistance to bureaucratic encroachment.

2. Nationwide Bharat Bandh of July 9

On July 9, a nationwide Bharat Bandh called jointly by Central Trade Unions (CTUs) and the Samyukta Kisan Morcha brought together workers and farmers in one of the largest coordinated actions of the year. Banking services, transport networks, coal mining operations, steel plants, and manufacturing units were disrupted across multiple states.

The bandh opposed the implementation of the four Labour Codes, privatisation of public sector undertakings, rising unemployment, and inflation. Protesters emphasised that economic policy was being formulated without democratic consultation, disproportionately burdening workers and small producers.

Heavy police deployment, detentions of union leaders, and prohibitory orders were reported in several cities. Nevertheless, participation remained significant, underscoring the scale of economic discontent.

3. Protests by terminated school staff in West Bengal

July also saw repeated marches by thousands of teaching and non-teaching staff in West Bengal who lost employment following judicial scrutiny of recruitment irregularities. Protesters described themselves as “untainted” and demanded differentiated accountability rather than blanket termination.

Demonstrations in Kolkata included long marches, sit-ins, and symbolic actions highlighting the human cost of administrative failure. Families spoke of financial distress, interrupted education of children, and social stigma. The protests raised difficult questions about governance failures and the limits of punitive institutional responses.

4. Bipartisan protests over arrest of Two Keralite nuns in Chhattisgarh 

Protests intensified in Kerala and New Delhi following the arrest of two Catholic nuns—Sister Vandana Francis and Sister Preeta Mary—at Durg railway station in Chhattisgarh on July 25, on charges of kidnapping, human trafficking, and forced conversion. The arrests were made following a complaint by a Bajrang Dal member, triggering widespread outrage among religious groups, civil society, and political leaders across party lines.

The protests assumed a rare bipartisan character, with Members of Parliament from both the United Democratic Front (UDF) and the Left Democratic Front (LDF) publicly denouncing the arrests outside Parliament. Leaders alleged that the charges were fabricated and reflected a broader pattern of targeting minorities, while also criticising the role played by right-wing groups in precipitating police action.

As protests gathered momentum, Kerala Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan wrote to Prime Minister Narendra Modi demanding justice for what he described as the “unfair incarceration” of the nuns. Senior leaders from Left parties, including Brinda Karat and Annie Raja, travelled to Chhattisgarh to engage with local authorities and affected families. Opposition leaders in Kerala linked the arrests to a wider climate of hostility toward Christians in BJP-ruled states.

The Union Minister of State for Minority Affairs stated that the matter was sub judice, while noting efforts by BJP leaders to engage with church authorities. Despite these assurances, protests continued, reflecting broader anxieties over religious freedom, misuse of criminal law, and the growing role of non-state actors in triggering arrests related to alleged conversions.

August 2025: Electoral Integrity, Labour Precarity, and Agrarian Anxiety

1. Protests over electoral roll revisions and voter deletions

August 2025 saw sustained and coordinated protests across Delhi, Maharashtra, Bihar, Karnataka, Telangana, and West Bengal over alleged irregularities in electoral roll revisions. Opposition parties, civil society groups, student organisations, and independent election watchdogs mobilised demonstrations outside offices of the Election Commission of India (ECI) and district election authorities.

The immediate trigger for these protests was the publication of revised electoral rolls in several constituencies that showed large-scale deletions of voters, particularly from urban poor settlements, minority-dominated neighbourhoods, migrant worker colonies, and informal housing clusters. Protesters argued that many deletions were carried out without due notice, verification, or accessible grievance redress mechanisms.

Demonstrations included marches, sit-ins, submission of memoranda, and symbolic actions such as mock voter registration drives to highlight procedural opacity. Legal activists addressed gatherings, explaining how disenfranchisement—whether intentional or through administrative negligence—directly undermines the basic structure of electoral democracy.

Police responses varied by region. In Delhi and Mumbai, heavy barricading and preventive detentions were reported, while in smaller towns protests were dispersed citing prohibitory orders. The protests foregrounded electoral integrity as a constitutional concern rather than a partisan issue.

2. Prolonged agitations by sanitation and municipal workers

Across several cities in August, sanitation workers intensified protests against privatisation, contractualisation, and delayed wages. In Chennai, Hyderabad, Gurugram, and parts of Uttar Pradesh, municipal workers staged sit-ins outside civic offices, undertook hunger strikes, and halted sanitation services for limited periods.

Workers detailed chronic issues: employment through contractors despite performing perennial civic functions, absence of social security benefits, hazardous working conditions, and lack of compensation for occupational injuries. Many protesters belonged to marginalised caste communities, underlining the intersection of caste and labour precarity.

Municipal authorities responded with threats of termination, police complaints, and selective negotiations. Arrests of protest leaders and forcible dispersal of sit-ins were reported in some cities. The protests highlighted the contradiction between celebrating cleanliness initiatives and eroding the rights of those who perform essential sanitation labour.

3. Farmers’ mobilisation against trade policy and import liberalisation

A joint platform of the Samyukt Kisan Morcha (SKM) and ten central trade unions across Punjab, Haryana, Rajasthan, and parts of Maharashtra organised rallies in August opposing trade agreements and import policies perceived to expose Indian agriculture to volatile global markets. Tractor rallies, village-level meetings, and district marches were held to articulate concerns over declining crop prices and rising input costs.

Farmers warned that tariff reductions and import liberalisation disproportionately harm small and marginal cultivators while benefiting large agribusiness interests. Protest speeches frequently referenced the unresolved demands from earlier farmers’ movements, including legal guarantees for Minimum Support Price (MSP).

Police presence remained significant, particularly near state borders, reflecting continued state sensitivity to agrarian mobilisation.

4. Farmers push back against scrapping of import duty on Raw Cotton 

The All India Kisan Sabha (AIKS) strongly condemned the Union government’s decision to scrap the 11% import duty on raw cotton between August 19 and September 30, 2025, a move notified by the Central Board of Indirect Taxes and Customs (CBIC). According to the CPI(M)-affiliated farmers’ organisation, the temporary removal of the duty would lower the price of imported cotton, thereby exerting downward pressure on domestic cotton prices at a crucial point in the agricultural cycle.

AIKS highlighted that the timing of the decision was particularly damaging, as cotton farmers across major producing regions had already completed sowing and incurred substantial input costs in anticipation of remunerative prices. With harvesting approaching, any decline in prices would directly impact farm incomes. Cotton-growing regions, the organisation noted, are already marked by chronic agrarian distress, indebtedness, and a history of farmer suicides, conditions that could be further aggravated by this policy shift.

The organisation also drew attention to what it described as a contradiction between the decision and the Prime Minister’s Independence Day speech, in which assurances were made about safeguarding farmers’ interests. AIKS argued that India’s inability to protect its textile sector amid tariff measures imposed by the United States had resulted in domestic farmers bearing the burden of global trade pressures, despite being the weakest actors in the supply chain.

Citing data from the Commission for Agricultural Costs and Prices (CACP), AIKS pointed out that cotton farmers were already receiving minimum support prices far below the C2+50 formula recommended by the Swaminathan Commission. The organisation further underscored the stark disparity between state support to cotton farmers in India and the United States, warning that continued concessions under external pressure could extend similar policy measures to other crops. AIKS called for a united nationwide agitation to compel the government to reverse the decision.

September 2025: Incarceration, representation, and regional discontent

1. Families of political prisoners protest prolonged undertrial detention

In September, families of activists and students incarcerated under stringent national security and anti-terror laws organised prolonged sit-ins and demonstrations at Jantar Mantar and in several state capitals. Many detainees had spent years in custody without commencement or completion of trial.

The protests were marked by testimonies from parents, spouses, and siblings who described the financial strain, psychological trauma, and social isolation caused by prolonged incarceration. Lawyers addressing the gatherings highlighted systemic issues: repeated denial of bail, delayed filing of chargesheets, and the normalisation of long-term undertrial detention.

Placards and speeches reframed the issue as one of constitutional rights rather than individual guilt or innocence. Police permitted the protests but maintained heavy surveillance, occasionally restricting movement citing security concerns.

2. Protests against media narratives and communalisation in Kashmir

In Srinagar and other parts of the Kashmir Valley, residents organised protests against national television channels accused of communalising incidents of violence and erasing local contexts. “Godi media hai hai!”- this is what a crowd of locals chanted today as they gathered around ABP News anchor Chitra Tripathi in Srinagar’s Lal Chowk during a protest to condemn the Pahalgam attack. Demonstrators gathered near press clubs and public squares, holding placards demanding ethical journalism and accountability.

These protests took place under intense surveillance, with movement restrictions imposed intermittently. Participants argued that misrepresentation in national media contributes to stigma, collective punishment, and further securitisation of civilian life in the region.

3. Intensification of the Ladakh movement for statehood and safeguards

September marked an escalation in the Ladakh movement demanding statehood and constitutional protections under the Sixth Schedule. Youth-led marches, hunger strikes, and shutdowns were organised across Leh and Kargil districts.

Protesters argued that prolonged central administration without elected representation had led to policy decisions taken without local consent, particularly regarding land, environment, and employment. Heavy security deployment, clashes, and reports of casualties deepened regional alienation and drew national attention to unresolved autonomy questions.

October 2025: Universities, autonomy, and administrative centralisation

1. Panjab University students’ shutdown over democratic deficit

In October, students at Panjab University enforced a complete shutdown of academic activities protesting delays in Senate elections and increasing centralisation of decision-making. Sit-ins, teach-ins, and marches were organised within and outside the campus.

Students argued that prolonged administrative control without elected bodies undermined institutional autonomy and student representation. Faculty members expressed solidarity, framing the issue as symptomatic of broader governance trends affecting public universities.

Police presence remained restrained, but university authorities initiated disciplinary proceedings against protest leaders. Similar, smaller protests were reported in other central universities, indicating a wider crisis of institutional democracy.

2. Dalit settlement demolished in Gurugram 

Residents of Premnagar Basti in Gurugram protested after large-scale demolitions razed most of the 45-year-old Dalit settlement. Families alleged forced evictions carried out despite legal protections and promises of rehabilitation.

The demolitions followed long-standing litigation initiated by local commercial interests. Protesters argued that the action violated constitutional protections and land acquisition laws.

Police action against protesting residents drew sharp criticism, reigniting debates over urban evictions and housing rights.

November 2025: Public health crisis, environmental breakdown, and faith under threat

1. Mass protests against lethal air pollution in North India

November 2025 saw sustained public protests across Delhi and the National Capital Region as air quality deteriorated to hazardous levels, with Air Quality Index readings remaining in the ‘severe’ category for extended periods. Residents, environmental groups, parents’ associations, and medical professionals mobilised protests demanding urgent state intervention to address the public health emergency.

Demonstrations were held outside government offices, pollution control bodies, and public squares. Protesters highlighted the failure of short-term emergency measures and criticised policy inertia despite recurring annual crises. Doctors and health experts participating in protests warned of irreversible harm to children, the elderly, and those with pre-existing respiratory conditions.

Placards and public statements framed air pollution not as an environmental issue alone but as a violation of the right to life and health. Protesters demanded long-term structural solutions, including regulation of industrial emissions, vehicular pollution control, agricultural stubble management through state-supported alternatives, and accountability of enforcement agencies. Police presence remained visible but protests were largely peaceful, reflecting broad public consensus on the gravity of the crisis.

2. Flash protest at Lalbagh against Hebbal–Silk board tunnel project

On November 15, student and environmental collectives held a flash protest inside Bengaluru’s Lalbagh Botanical Gardens opposing the proposed 17-km twin tunnel road project between Silk Board and Hebbal. The protest was led by the All India Students Association (AISA) and Fridays For Future–Karnataka, who described the project as an expensive and environmentally hazardous intervention being pushed forward without adequate scrutiny or public consultation.

Protesters alleged that the Karnataka government was advancing the multi-crore tunnel project despite expert warnings and unresolved gaps in the Detailed Project Report (DPR). They highlighted that the estimated cost of the project—between ₹17,000 and ₹20,000 crore—would make it one of the most expensive transport infrastructure initiatives in the state. Activists questioned the prioritisation of such expenditure at a time when metro fares were being increased on the grounds of funding shortages, arguing that the tunnel would primarily benefit a limited section of private vehicle users.

A central concern raised during the protest was the absence of a mandatory Environmental Impact Assessment (EIA). According to the organisers, no comprehensive geological, hydrological, or biodiversity studies had been conducted, despite the tunnel passing beneath ecologically sensitive zones. Environmental groups warned that large-scale underground drilling could destabilise soil layers, disrupt groundwater flow, and worsen Bengaluru’s already severe flooding and drainage problems.

The protest also drew political attention, with Leader of the Opposition in the Karnataka Legislative Assembly, R. Ashok, accusing the Congress-led state government of damaging the environment in the name of development. Speaking at a separate event near Sankey Lake, he alleged that the project was proceeding without approvals from key departments, including the Environment, Archaeology, and Forest Departments. Together, the protests and political interventions highlighted growing public concern over transparency, environmental governance, and urban planning priorities in Bengaluru.

3. Workers’ and farmers’ protests mark five years of the 2020 Farmers’ Protest

On November 26, hundreds of thousands of workers and farmers across India participated in coordinated protests to mark the fifth anniversary of the 2020 farmers’ agitation. Rallies and demonstrations were reported in over 500 districts following a joint call by the Samyukta Kisan Morcha (SKM) and Central Trade Unions (CTUs), making it one of the largest nationwide mobilisations of 2025.

The immediate trigger for the protests was the notification of the four Labour Codes on November 21, which trade unions opposed as anti-worker and detrimental to long-established labour protections. Workers from coal mines, railways, ports, refineries, textile mills, banks, and other sectors organised rallies, strikes, and workplace protests, with demonstrators in several locations burning copies of the labour code notifications as a symbolic rejection of the reforms.

Farmers joined the protests in large numbers, staging demonstrations at local, district, and state administrative headquarters in solidarity with workers and to press their own unresolved demands. SKM linked the mobilisation to the earlier farmers’ movement that forced the repeal of the three farm laws in 2021, while also highlighting the government’s failure to fulfil its commitment to provide a legal guarantee for Minimum Support Price (MSP), a key promise made at the time of the withdrawal of the protests.

The November 26 actions also carried constitutional significance, as the date coincides with Constitution Day. Protesters accused the BJP-led central government of undermining constitutional values through labour reforms, majoritarian politics, and policies that marginalise religious minorities. The participation of student unions, women’s organisations, agricultural workers, and civil society groups reflected a convergence of labour, agrarian, and democratic rights concerns across the country.

4. Goa mobilises against Coal Transportation corridors 

People’s movements in Goa, supported by the National Alliance of People’s Movements, organised mass protests against infrastructure projects facilitating coal transportation through the state. Protesters warned that rail, road, and port expansions threatened Goa’s ecology and livelihoods.

Demonstrations demanded the halting of port expansion, railway double-tracking, and denotification of rivers declared national waterways. Activists argued that public hearings had been ignored.

The Chalo Lohia Maidan protest highlighted sustained resistance to projects perceived as prioritising corporate interests over environmental protection.

December 2025: Workers’ rights, environmental resistance, and targeted violence

1. ASHAs, Anganwadi and midday meal workers’ day-and-night agitation in Hubballi 

December opened with a significant mobilisation of women workers in Hubballi, Karnataka, where hundreds of Accredited Social Health Activists (ASHAs), Anganwadi workers, and midday meal workers launched an indefinite day-and-night agitation outside the office of Union Minister Pralhad Joshi. Workers travelled from Vijayapura, Bagalkot, Belagavi, Gadag, Haveri, Dharwad, and Uttara Kannada districts to participate in the protest, converging at Chitaguppi Park adjacent to the minister’s office.

The protest was centred on long-pending demands for regularisation of services, improved honoraria, and recognition as workers rather than volunteers or part-time staff. Protest leaders highlighted that despite performing essential public health, nutrition, and education-related work, ASHAs and Anganwadi workers remain excluded from basic labour protections, social security benefits, and fair wages.

As negotiations with officials failed to yield immediate results, protesters spent the night in the open, continuing their agitation into the following day. Trade union leaders, including representatives from Akshara Dasoha Noukarara Sangha, CITU, and the Anganwadi Workers Association, addressed the gathering, framing the struggle as one for dignity of labour and gender justice. The agitation was suspended only after assurances were given by both State and Central Ministers, including an offer for dialogue in Delhi, underscoring the persistence required even to secure negotiations.

2. Violent clashes over Amera Coal Mine expansion in Surguja, Chhattisgarh 

On December 3, tensions escalated sharply in Chhattisgarh’s Surguja district as villagers protested against the proposed expansion of the Amera coal extension mine operated by South Eastern Coalfields Limited (SECL) in Lakhanpur block. Residents alleged that attempts were being made to expand mining operations without lawful land acquisition, consent, or adequate compensation, threatening agricultural land, water sources, and residential areas.

When villagers attempted to prevent officials and workers from accessing the mine site, clashes broke out between protesters and police personnel deployed at the location. According to reports, villagers used sticks, axes, and slingshots, while police resorted to force to control the crowd. Around 40 police personnel sustained injuries, and several villagers were also hurt during the confrontation.

The protest reflected deep-seated anger over extractive projects proceeding without community consent, particularly in tribal and rural areas. Villagers demanded an immediate halt to mining activities until land acquisition was carried out lawfully and livelihood concerns were addressed. The incident highlighted the volatility of resource conflicts and the consequences of bypassing participatory decision-making processes.

3. Farmers’ ‘Rail Roko’ protest against Electricity (Amendment) Bill in Punjab 

On December 5, farmers and farm labourers in Punjab, under the banner of the Kisan Mazdoor Morcha (KMM), staged a statewide ‘symbolic rail roko’ agitation to protest the draft Electricity (Amendment) Bill, 2025, and the installation of prepaid smart meters. Railway tracks were blocked at several locations, including near Amritsar, for a few hours.

Protesters argued that the proposed amendments would adversely affect the agriculture sector by increasing electricity costs and exposing farmers to market-driven tariff regimes. Farmer leaders accused the Centre of ignoring their concerns and warned that the policy would deepen agrarian distress. Several farmer leaders were reportedly detained by police ahead of the protest, though farmers continued to mobilise in large numbers.

The agitation was framed as part of a broader resistance to policy decisions perceived as undermining rural livelihoods. Farmer unions warned of escalating protests, including the removal of smart meters, if demands were not addressed.

4. Anganwadi workers’ statewide strikes in Andhra Pradesh and sit-ins in Tamil Nadu 

Between December 10 and 12, over one lakh Anganwadi workers in Andhra Pradesh went on a statewide strike, while workers in Tamil Nadu organised sit-ins and protests in Chennai demanding improved working conditions and recognition as full-time government employees. Clad in pink saris to symbolise unity, Anganwadi workers and helpers gathered in large numbers, raising slogans and submitting memoranda to authorities.

Key demands included twelve days of menstrual leave annually, twelve months of maternity leave, substantial pay hikes, travel allowances, and regularisation of services. Workers highlighted the contradiction of being classified as part-time employees while routinely working more than eight hours a day for meagre honoraria. Police removed protesters from protest sites in Chennai, underscoring the constrained space for collective bargaining.

The protests foregrounded gendered labour exploitation within state-run welfare schemes and drew attention to the emotional, physical, and economic toll on women workers delivering essential services.

5. Protests against threats to the Aravalli Hills in Rajasthan (December 23)

On December 23, protests intensified across Rajasthan against a new definition of the Aravalli hills accepted by the Supreme Court, which activists and Opposition leaders warned could leave over 90 per cent of the range vulnerable to mining and construction. Demonstrations were held in cities including Jodhpur, Udaipur, and Sikar, with protesters demanding environmental protection and review of the decision.

Clashes were reported in some locations, with police resorting to baton charges and detentions. Environmentalists, lawyers, and local communities argued that the revised definition threatened not only ecological balance but also the livelihoods and cultural sites of tribal and rural populations residing below the 100-metre elevation threshold.

The protests drew on decades-long histories of environmental resistance in the Aravalli region and framed the issue as a struggle to protect a fragile ecological heritage from renewed extractive pressures.

6. Kerala Protests After Attack on Children’s Christmas Carol Group 

Widespread protests erupted in Kerala after an alleged attack on a children’s Christmas carol group in Palakkad by an RSS-BJP worker. The incident, involving physical assault and damage to instruments, triggered condemnation from political parties and church authorities.

Youth organisation DYFI announced district-wide protest carols, framing the response as a defence of communal harmony. Political leaders across parties criticised attempts to justify the attack. Police arrested the accused, who was already facing charges under the Kerala Anti-Social Activities Act. The incident came amid heightened concern over communal violence in the state.

7. Protests against Christmas-time violence targeting Christian communities 

Between December 24 and 26, Christian communities and civil rights groups organised protests and solidarity gatherings across multiple cities in response to a wave of violence, intimidation, and disruptions targeting churches and worshippers during the Christmas period. Incidents included vandalism at Raipur’s Magneto Mall and disruptions of worship services in Jabalpur and Delhi’s Lajpat Nagar.

A prominent silent protest was held in Mumbai’s Goregaon West, organised by the Samvidhan Jagar Yatra Samiti and the Bombay Catholic Sabha. Participants held placards invoking constitutional values and freedom of religion, deliberately avoiding slogans to underscore the dignity and gravity of the protest.

Organisers described the attacks as part of a broader pattern threatening the constitutional right to freedom of conscience and worship. The protests demanded accountability, protection for religious minorities, and an end to impunity for perpetrators.

8. Women protest outside Delhi High Court over bail in Unnao Rape Case (December)

Women’s groups staged protests outside the Delhi High Court following its decision to grant conditional bail to former BJP MLA Kuldeep Singh Sengar in the Unnao rape case. Protesters expressed fear for the survivor’s safety and criticised the suspension of sentence in a case involving grave violence.

The survivor and her family publicly voiced distress and loss of faith in the justice system, stating their intention to approach the Supreme Court. Demonstrators demanded accountability and reversal of the bail order.

Police issued warnings to disperse, but protests continued over several days. Women’s rights activists described the agitation as a response to systemic failures in protecting survivors of sexual violence.

Following sustained public pressure, the Central Bureau of Investigation announced it would challenge the bail order, underscoring the impact of protest on institutional responses.

9. Nationwide gig workers’ strike against unsafe work conditions

The year closed with escalating mobilisation by gig and platform workers across India. Following a digital protest on December 25 that saw tens of thousands of workers log off delivery apps, unions announced a nationwide strike on December 31 under the banner of the Indian Federation of App-Based Transport Workers.

Workers demanded the removal of 10-minute delivery models, restoration of earlier payout structures, transparency in algorithmic management, grievance redress mechanisms, and social security benefits. Union leaders highlighted unsafe working conditions, income instability, and intimidation of workers through account deactivations and deployment of bouncers near warehouses.

The strike underscored the growing collective strength of gig workers and marked a significant moment in the evolution of labour resistance within the platform economy.

Conclusion: Protest as the moral record of a year

The protests of 2025, as documented month by month, form a cumulative moral and political record of India’s democratic life. Far from isolated eruptions, these mobilisations reflected sustained citizen engagement across issues of livelihood, environment, identity, labour, and governance.

Throughout the year, people protested not only against specific policies but against patterns of exclusion, neglect, and impunity. Farmers demanded economic justice, workers resisted precarity, students defended institutional autonomy, Adivasi communities protected land and forests, minorities asserted the right to live and worship without fear, and urban residents claimed the right to clean air and dignified survival.

Importantly, 2025 demonstrated that protest in India is adaptive. When streets were policed or permissions denied, dissent moved to courts, documentation, digital spaces, and symbolic action. When large mobilisations were curtailed, smaller local protests sustained democratic pressure. This adaptability reflects a deep-rooted commitment to constitutional values rather than episodic outrage.

The year also revealed the costs of dissent—surveillance, arrests, delayed justice, and social stigmatisation. Yet these pressures did not extinguish public mobilisation. Instead, they underscored the centrality of protest as a corrective mechanism when institutional responsiveness falters.

This year-ender records protest as democratic labour: the continuous work undertaken by citizens to make constitutional promises meaningful. In doing so, it affirms that the strength of a democracy is measured not by the absence of conflict, but by the presence of people willing to publicly contest injustice, month after month, across the country.

Related:

Defending Citizenship, On the Ground | CJP Assam 2025

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From Fringe to Framework: How AHP’s hate ecosystem reconfigured law, society, and electoral politics

2025: On the ground, the bulldozer still arrives before the rule of law

The post 2025 in Protest: Across issues, across India appeared first on SabrangIndia.

On 8 February 2026 following the Thai general election, there was a paradigm shift ushering in a new era of Southeast Asian politics as the ultra-right Bumjaithai Party took control of every organ of Thai state power, democratically or otherwise. The party are relatively new comers to Thai politics but are the clear successor of a long line of monachal-military-capitalist-ultra-nationalists who have long served as a vanguardist nexus of deep state power. They had already allegedly rigged senate elections in the upper-house in 2024 winning a super majority in the supposedly party neutral chamber- an investigation into these charges of vote rigging are now certain to go nowhere. The judiciary, which have long been in the pocket of the aforementioned monachal-military-ultra-nationalists, are also firmly on team Bhumjaithai (BJT), and due to the kingdom’s centralised government structure little to no opposition remains in any state institutional form.

For the past two decades, and even going back to the 1960s, Thailand has had a relatively well organised peasant and workers movement, particularly given the highly reactionary nature of the state, which has been a US vassal ever since their war on Vietnam. Up until the 2000s this movement was largely extra-parliamentary, with the poor organising around the Farmers Federation (1970s), the insurgent Communist Party (1960s-80s) and subsequently a web of trade unions and localised peasant groups. In 2001, however, the left-agrarian-populist Thai-Rak-Thai party (today Phue Thai) emerged as the parliamentary representative of the poor, winning landslide elections, countless policy victories and experiencing mass state repression in the form of military and judiciary coups, extrajudicial killings, arrests and disappearances. Despite Phue Thai’s successes, over the past two decades, the reactionary state has developed a complex system of weaponised lawfare, as documented by researcher Tyrell Haberkorn in her book Dictatorship on Trial. In short, the reactionary elite learnt how to bar the poor from parliament, and at the time of writing, appear to have successfully neutralised the threat for the indefinite future.

In the aftermath of the 8 February election, many of those on the left are nervously looking to a future that resembles Hun Sen’s Cambodia (CPP) or Modi’s India (BJP). While these examples operate in vastly different political landscapes, they share striking tactical similarities in neutralising opposition through legal, administrative, patronage network, and state institutional means. A new reactionary playbook is rapidly being developed and exported across the region. One by which the ultra-right are able to capture state institutions, weaponize ultra-nationalist grievances outwards, and crush opposition. The much touted “rule of law” is stripped of its liberal pretences to serve as a naked instrument of class rule and state capital. Which brings us to the question of what the opposition—what the poor—can do to recognise and challenge this.

The repeated playbook in all of these cases rely on three basic pillars, judicial neutralisation, opposition absorption & ethno-nationalist redirection:

Judicial Neutralisation
In these cases, the state was built on Western ideas of liberal democracy. The judiciary, once framed in liberal theory as an independent check on power, has been effectively hollowed out and repurposed. It functions as an open and concentrated administrative force dedicated to safeguarding the interests of the dominant economic class, operating as a tactical instrument for enforcement of economic and political monopolies, ensuring that the legal system actively facilitates the accumulation of wealth and power for the ruling elite rather than providing a check on state power.

The Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), India: Have repeatedly used law enforcement agencies (Enforcement Directorate, Central Bureau of Investigation) to file corruption or money laundering cases against the opposition, often leading to pre-trial detentions that paralyses opposition leadership during elections, bogging them down in judicial procedure.

The Bhumjaithai Party (BJT), Thailand: Benefits from a “Judicial Coup” model where the courts protect the interests of the aforementioned reactionary vanguardist nexus. They benefit from a judiciary that dissolves major rivals and removes opposition leaders, like the judicial coups against Phue Thai Prime ministers and the dissolution of the Move Forward Party, on constitutional grounds. BJT itself rarely initiates these cases but relies on their dependable ultra-nationalist allies to press the charges.

The Cambodian People’s Party (CPP), Cambodia: Perhaps the most ‘advanced’ form, where the distinction between the party and the state has completely withered away. This is the closest we have to Caesarism, in that the judiciary is simply a department of the CPP used to liquidate the political competition, ensuring that the means of production (land, timber, and factories) remain in the hands of the elite class loyal to the CPP project.

Absorbing Opposition
In India, the “BJP Washing Machine” is a mechanism for the centralisation of political rent. Localised political/landowning elites with their existing patronage networks join the BJP to protect their accumulated capital from state seizure and further cement their position locally, while strengthening party hegemony nationally. Former opposition figures become allies and any investigations into their past wrongdoing are washed away by the power of the BJP “Washing Machine”.

In Thailand, the BJT’s absorption of existing “Baan Ya” (local elites) into the party allows for the consolidation of provincial capital and votes. When the judiciary threatens to investigate non-BJT elites, they simply move their assets (votes and influence) to join BJT, moving from a position of weakness to strength and allowing them greater access to state contracts, legal protections and a seat at the table in Bangkok.

In Cambodia, the CPP’s “Golden Handcuffs” are a form of patronage-based feudalism. For opposition figures, or those who wish to challenge CPP hegemony, instead of challenging the party, joining the CPP is the only way to access markets, votes, state contracts, etc., and avoid liquidation. Once tied or ‘handcuffed’ to the CPP they are richly rewarded and protected, providing they adhere to the party’s hegemony.

Ethno-nationalist Redirection
So as to most effectively legitimise their regimes and justify their extraordinary use of heavy handed judiciary, all three cases have relied on stoking ethno-nationalist grievances against outside forces. Ironically, Thailand and Cambodia are mutually dependent on this, given the recent border war, which was instigated by both sides, so as to create this very outcome. As we wrote at the outbreak of the fighting, it was a war of elite consensus on both sides of the border, which served only to strengthen the elites on either side, to justify their militaristic policies, which ultimately are vested in domestic interests, using the military as an internal repressive state apparatus rather than an external—as is the case with the US and Great Britain for example. The same is also true of the BJP, who have used the longstanding conflict with Pakistan to justify crackdowns on domestic opposition who fail to show sufficient fealty towards India’s army in its conflict with Pakistan. In Thailand too, this tactic was used against the left opposition as a means of discipline and control, forcing them to back the reactionary consensus of the ultra-nationalists like BJT or face charges of treason, as was the case with the aforementioned left populist PM Paetongtarn Shinawatra who was evicted from office for this very reason.

The Way Out
The election of Bhumjaithai this month is the most recent country in the region to fall to an ultra-right government using the very same playbook mentioned above. Reactionary forces across Asia are watching closely, taking notes, learning and adapting. It is at this moment that those of us on the left, the poor, must do the same, take time to analyse how reactionary powers operate and where their weaknesses are.

The answer, is of course, not the liberal politics that have been sold by the Western funded NGO’s and think tanks that for decades have portrayed themselves as the vanguards of democracy against fascism. Indeed, they are, in the best case, completely ineffective, as is the case with the Cambodia National Rescue Party, and in the worst case actively harmful, as is the case with The Peoples Party Thailand.

As bleak as the situation may feel in Thailand today in the aftermath of this defeat, there are lessons and examples we can look to as means of resistance, as well as recent moments of such reactionary consensuses breaking—the case of Sri Lanka and Bangladesh, albeit currently in a state of flux. Even within the reactionary consensus, liberatory spaces can be created like the incredible achievements of the left coalition in Kerala.

For the poor of Thailand, we are in the first days of a new paradigm, a new reactionary consensus, where parliamentary political organizing may need to be abandoned for several years. While this particular paradigm is fresh, it is one that the poor have faced many times before. We have seen our comrades dead in the street, we still live with their empty bedrooms in our homes. We heard these stories from our grandparents, who in turn heard them from theirs.We have bounced back before and we inevitably bounce back again, as will the poor of India and Cambodia, such is the nature of class struggle.

This article was produced by Globetrotter. Kay Young is a writer and editor at DinDeng journal (Thailand). He has a forthcoming book on Thai revolutionary history with LeftWord Books (India)

Courtesy: CounterView

The post Asia’s ultra-right consensus: ‘Liberal politics, sold by western funded NGOs, isn’t the answer’ appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Predictably, on February 11, the Centre issued a nationwide protocol prescribing how the national song, written by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee, should be sung. At one level, the move may appear innocuous—after all, what harm can there be in honouring a patriotic hymn? Yet, when placed in the larger political context, it raises troubling questions about the direction in which the Narendra Modi government is steering the republic.

The protocol makes it clear that Vande Mataram is to be given precedence over Jana Gana Mana, written and composed by Rabindranath Tagore and adopted as the national anthem. If both are sung, the national song must come first. It also mandates that everyone present must stand in respectful attention when it is sung, with an exception only when the song forms part of a film or documentary. Symbolism, in politics, is never accidental.

This development must be viewed alongside a broader pattern. When the Prime Minister “consecrated” the Ram temple at Ayodhya—on the very site where the Babri Masjid once stood—he blurred the constitutional line separating state and religion. Today, he appears more occupied with temple visits and meetings with religious figures than with addressing the anxieties of citizens grappling with unemployment, inflation and social discord.

There was a time when visiting dignitaries were taken to Bengaluru’s Infosys campus to showcase India’s strides in information technology—a confident, forward-looking nation presenting its modern achievements. Today, they are escorted to Varanasi, the Prime Minister’s constituency, to witness the Ganga aarti. Civilisational heritage has its place, but when spectacle substitutes substance, the message to the world changes.

I have heard Vande Mataram sung at functions organised by RSS veterans such as R. Balashankar. I was once invited to a function hosted by the builders of the Indira Gandhi International Airport in New Delhi, where the chief guest was RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat. On such occasions, only the first two stanzas were rendered—the very portions historically accepted as inclusive.

The February 11 circular, however, insists on singing the entire poem, including portions that were consciously set aside to accommodate the sensitivities of religious minorities. During the parliamentary debate, the Prime Minister asserted that Vande Mataram was the one song that united Indians during the freedom struggle. This is simply not true.

The freedom movement resonated with a chorus of slogans and songs, each reflecting diverse ideological streams and regional energies: Jai Hind, popularised by Subhas Chandra Bose; Inquilab Zindabad, immortalised by Bhagat Singh and his comrades; Quit India; Bharat Mata ki Jai; Jai Bharat; and yes, Vande Mataram. To claim that a single chant alone stirred the nationalist soul is to rewrite history through the lens of contemporary politics.

Modi had accused the Congress of “mutilating” Vande Mataram by adopting only its first two stanzas. The charge is historically untenable. Tagore’s Bharoto Bhagyo Bidhata, originally comprising five stanzas, was similarly abridged when the Constituent Assembly adopted only the first stanza as the national anthem on January 24, 1950. It was chosen for its brevity, inclusiveness and suitability for formal occasions. No one accused the Assembly of disrespecting Tagore.

Likewise, the Indian National Congress adopted only the first two stanzas of Vande Mataram in 1937 because later verses contain explicit references to Durga, Lakshmi and other Hindu deities. Leaders of the freedom movement—deeply conscious of India’s plural character—feared that adopting the entire song might alienate non-Hindus. Tagore himself recommended these two stanzas for their “unobjectionable evocation of the beauty of the motherland.”

Nor was this the decision of Jawaharlal Nehru alone, as is often alleged. It emerged from a unanimous Congress Working Committee resolution passed on October 30, 1937, in Calcutta. Among those present were Nehru, Sardar Patel, Dr Rajendra Prasad, Maulana Azad, Bhulabhai Desai, Jamnalal Bajaj, J.B. Kripalani, Pattabhi Sitaramayya, Rajaji, Acharya Narendra Dev, Jayaprakash Narayan and Subhas Chandra Bose. Mahatma Gandhi, though not a formal member, was a special invitee and assisted in drafting the resolution. Moved by Rajendra Prasad and seconded by Patel, it represented consensus—not mutilation.

It is also worth recalling that the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, founded in 1925—half a century after Vande Mataram was written—did not adopt it as its anthem. Instead, it chose Namaste Sada Vatsale Matrubhume, composed by Narhar Narayan Bhide. Now, the RSS does sing Vande Mataram, but it does not sing Jana Gana Mana. Those curious may consult old issues of its mouthpiece, Organiser.

In its early years, the RSS and allied publications derided Jana Gana Mana as a supposed paean to the British monarch, misreading Tagore’s lyrics as loyalty to empire. This claim, long debunked by historians, ignored Tagore’s own clarification that the song hailed the divine guide of India’s destiny, not any earthly ruler.

I recently watched an RSS shakha meeting in Delhi. It began with the RSS anthem and concluded with Vande Mataram, followed by boisterous slogan-shouting. I am not sure whether they sang the full version or the historically accepted two stanzas.

This raises an interesting question. If the government now insists that Vande Mataram take precedence over all else, will the RSS accord it precedence over its own Namaste Sada Vatsale? Or will protocol, like history, prove to be selectively applied?

The deeper unease surrounding the present directive is not confined to Jana Gana Mana alone. The RSS had, for decades, objected even to the national flag, arguing that the Tricolour did not reflect India’s “civilisational ethos.” For years, it declined to hoist the flag at its shakhas. Only after the Modi government launched a hyper-enthusiastic flag-waving campaign did the saffron brotherhood warm up to the Tricolour.

Returning to Vande Mataram, it is important to recall that objections to it were not solely Muslim. The charge of idolatry—of venerating the nation as a goddess—troubled other reformist traditions as well.

I was reminded of this during the funeral of my former colleague at The Hindustan Times, Harish Bhanot, in Chandigarh. His daughter, Neerja Bhanot, remains etched in national memory. On September 5, 1986, during the hijacking of Pan Am Flight 73, the 22-year-old flight attendant laid down her life saving hundreds. She became the first woman and the youngest recipient of the Ashok Chakra.

Bhanot was a follower of the Arya Samaj, and through him I had my first glimpse into that reformist tradition. It was the first time I entered an Arya Samaj temple. The walls bore inscriptions—Vedic verses rendered in bold script—but there was no idol, no sculpted deity, no ritual paraphernalia of worship. The austerity was striking, almost disarming. Swami Agnivesh, who belonged to this movement, was a friend. He later spoke at the Maramon Convention. We know who brutally attacked him for his views.

The point bears emphasis: opposition to idolatry is not confined to Islam. Arya Samajists, too, consider it a deviation from true monotheism. When the state elevates a song that personifies the nation as a goddess, it inadvertently places such citizens—Muslim and Hindu alike—in a moral quandary.

The Centre’s directive mandating the full six-stanza, three-minute-and-ten-second rendition of Vande Mataram at official occasions—during flag unfurling, the President’s arrival, and before and after her addresses—effectively pushes Jana Gana Mana to the margins. For all practical purposes, the national anthem risks being reduced to a ceremonial afterthought. It bears recalling that Sri Aurobindo, who rendered the song into English, viewed it as an anthem of a united Bengal in its struggle against colonial rule, not as a national song for the whole of India.

The text itself is rooted in a specific historical moment: its landscape is regional, its imagery sectarian to many, and even its demographic references belong to an era when India, as we know it today, did not exist. Protocol, once a matter of dignified brevity, now threatens to become an endurance test. Elderly citizens, people with arthritis, and those unable to stand for prolonged periods may find patriotism measured not by feeling but by stamina.

A word about the poet, Bankim was among the earliest architects of the Bengal Renaissance—scholar, novelist, satirist, administrator. His prose reshaped Bengali literature and stirred cultural self-awareness among Hindu Bengalis. Yet his nationalism was not the inclusive vision later articulated by Mahatma Gandhi or Jawaharlal Nehru.

His 1882 novel Anandmath forms the backdrop of Vande Mataram. It depicts ascetic warriors—the Sannyasis—fighting Muslim rule. Muslims are portrayed as foreign invaders and oppressors; the narrative closes not with reconciliation but with ascendancy.

Historians S. M. Burke and Salim Al-Din Quraishi, in The British Raj in India: An Historical Review, note that even colonial authorities viewed the song with suspicion. Sir Henry Craik objected that it originated as a hymn of hate against Muslims and had become a war cry of militants in Bengal. In one exchange from Anandamath, a character declares that Hinduism cannot survive unless “the bearded drunkards are expelled”—and, when asked how, replies: “By killing.”

Given such a history, the Congress leadership’s decision to adopt only the nonsectarian stanzas was not cowardice but statesmanship.

Bankim himself was not always a nationalist in the modern sense. In his early writings, he admired Europe’s scientific method, governance, and culture, describing it as a “more perfect type of civilisation,” while lamenting India’s “arrested development.” He praised Europe’s inductive method—systematic observation, experiment, and application of knowledge into power. By the time he wrote Anandamath, he had transformed into a cultural revivalist.

That transformation mirrors our own national journey: from self-doubt to assertion, from reform to revival, from pluralism to a more brittle uniformity.

My grandson Nehemiah once had an unusual hobby. In Class 2 or 3, he delighted in listening to national anthems of different countries. He could identify them by tune and lyric. Among his favourites was the Russian anthem; he admired its martial music.

He informed me—authoritatively, as only children could—that Greece had the longest anthem but uses a shortened version; the Netherlands had the oldest; the American anthem was the most difficult to sing; and Japan’s could be rendered in under 45 seconds. The only anthem he could sing flawlessly, he said, was that of Bahrain. Why? Because it had no words—only sound.

His innocent observations carry a profound lesson: an anthem’s power lies in its brevity, clarity, and inclusiveness. Over three minutes is an eternity when symbolism overshadows sentiment.

Vande Mataram proclaims:
Mother, I praise thee!
Rich with thy hurrying streams,
Bright with thy orchard gleams…

One cannot help asking: Is today’s India—where rivers like the Yamuna in Delhi run dark with sewage and foam—the landscape Bankim praised? Should not the government focus first on making the country worthy of such hymns? Clean rivers, breathable air, and dignified living conditions would inspire spontaneous patriotism far more effectively than mandated recitations.

Instead, we risk compelling citizens—particularly Muslims and Christians—to sing praises that resemble devotion to a Hindu goddess. Patriotism, when coerced, curdles into compliance; when inclusive, it blossoms into belonging.

Nations are not sustained by songs alone. They endure through shared values: justice, dignity, equality, and mutual respect. Symbols matter, but they must unite rather than divide. The framers of the Republic understood this when they chose Jana Gana Mana—brief, inclusive, geographically expansive—as the anthem, while according Vande Mataram an honoured but limited place.

To elevate one by diminishing the other is to reopen settled questions and unsettle fragile harmonies. The real test of nationalism is not how loudly we sing, how long we stand, or how many flags we wave. It lies in whether every citizen—Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Christian, believer, reformist, or atheist—feels equally at home in the Republic.

If a song must be sung, let it be one that all can sing without hesitation. If a flag must be waved, let it be one that all embrace without qualification. And if a nation must be worshipped, let it be through service—clean rivers, just laws, and compassionate governance—rather than through enforced hymns. Only then will patriotism cease to be performance and become, once again, a shared and silent pride.

Courtesy: Indian Currents

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Roughly handmade diyas—uneven, cracked, some leaning like a quiet congregation of forms waiting to be acknowledged—sit upon a mat. Beside them lies a dense, unmoving hump of raw clay, holding within its silence the memory of the ground from which it was taken. At the far end stands the chak, the potter’s wheel. It does not announce itself; it simply exists, anchored and patient, flanked by a bowl of water catching the light and a thin cutting thread coiled like a secret.

This is the sanctuary of Dr. Sangeeta Jawla, a researcher, potter, and storyteller who has spent the last seven years excavating the stories trapped within India’s soil. To attend her session is not to watch a demonstration; it is to enter a rhythm that has pulsed through the subcontinent for millennia. At a young age, she has evolved into a storyteller who serves as a bridge between the academic study of folklore and the tactile world of ceramic art. Her journey began with a childhood curiosity in her ancestral village in Haryana and evolved into a rigorous seven-year research project documenting the oral traditions of India’s potter communities.

Through her practice, Sangeeta seeks to fill the “gaps in the archive,” exploring how Hindu, Muslim, and Tribal narratives differ in their spiritual and physical relationship with the earth. Her work is a rare blend of artistic reclamation and sociological inquiry, specifically challenging the gendered norms of the craft. By placing herself at the wheel and performing the arduous labour of clay preparation, she brings visibility to the millions of unnamed women whose hands have sustained the rhythm of Indian pottery for centuries.

A central theme in Sangeeta’s work is the etymology of the name Prajapati, a title used by potters across India. While the word translates to “Lord of Procreation” or “Creator,” the communities bearing the name often live at the margins of the social hierarchy. Sangeeta uses her performances to highlight this “indispensability without status,” asking the audience to reconcile the divine origins of the craft with the difficult socio-economic realities of the craftsmen.

In her mesmerising presentation this evening, which the writer attended, Sangeeta entered without ceremony. There are no heavy credentials offered, no academic posture. What she carries instead are journeys—across regions, communities, and lives shaped by earth. Her storytelling begins not with a greeting, but with the tactile reality of labour.

Her hands reach for the clay. It meets the mat with a soft, damp thud. Fingers press, release, and hesitate before finding trust in the material. As the chak begins to turn, it produces a low, continuous hum. To the untrained ear, it is ambient noise; to the potter, it is the “rhyme of everyday survival.” It is a cadence that women across rural India recognise because it mirrors their own lives—constant, patient, and largely unnoticed. It is the music of the unseen.

Sangeeta’s narratives are not the romanticised, picturesque tales of “craft” often found in coffee-table books. Her stories are gathered from years of visiting potter communities—initially Hindu, and increasingly Tribal and Muslim potters—to understand the vast, differing frameworks of their existence.

She explores a fascinating paradox: the potter is indispensable to Indian social and cultural life, shaping the vessels for births, rituals, and deaths, yet remains pushed to the lowest strata of society. “Clay carries a paradox,” she notes. “Indispensability without status, skill without recognition.”

In Hindu traditions, tools are often described as divine gifts from Shiva or Vishnu. In contrast, tribal tales can be “graphic,” detailing a more visceral, raw acquisition of tools from the natural world. By engraving these stories onto her pottery, Sangeeta ensures that the clay itself becomes an archive, recording not just folklore, but the politics of identity and survival.

To look at Sangeeta’s finished work is to see a visual tapestry of these oral histories. Her process is one of deep patience and technical care. Unlike contemporary potters who might reach for commercial glazes or vibrant synthetic paints, Sangeeta stays true to the rustic roots of the craft. She emulates rural artisans by applying a layer of khadiya mitti, a white chalk clay, over the damp terracotta. This ivory-hued slip acts as a canvas of depth. Using fine tools, she cuts through the white layer to reveal the rich, burnt-orange earth beneath.

“I heard the stories; I didn’t see them,” she explains. “The visualisation is purely imaginative.” Each line she etches represents a character from a potter’s folktale or a movement of a woman’s hand. She describes the process as “nurturing a child,” often staying up all night to monitor the drying process, ensuring the tension in the clay does not crack the narrative she has so carefully carved. The result is a striking contrast: a dark, earthy line singing against a bone-white surface, making the stories of the community “pop” with visual urgency.

At the heart of Sangeeta’s practice is a sharp, necessary gender lens. In the world of pottery, labour is strictly—and often unfairly—divided. Women perform the most arduous and foundational tasks: they trek to collect the clay, they sieve the soil for impurities, they fetch the water, and they spend hours kneading the earth into a workable state. Without their labour, the wheel cannot turn.

Yet, a traditional boundary exists: women are often kept away from the chak itself. The wheel—the visible symbol of creation and mastery—remains a male domain. Sangeeta’s performance is an act of reclamation. As she moves through the space, her hands and feet immersed in soil, she performs this “invisible” labour. She kneads the clay with her legs, grounding herself fully, allowing her body to become part of the material. She uses tools as metaphors: the sieve speaks of filtration and control; the act of kneading speaks of endurance; the wheel speaks of authority and access.

As the audience is drawn in—no longer spectators, but participants touching and shaping the soil—the atmosphere thickens. Time stretches and folds. In the midst of the labour, Sangeeta recites a couplet from the mystic poet Kabir, allowing the words to rise naturally from the movement of her body. She recites, “Maati kahe kumhar se, tu kya ronde mohe, Ek din aisa aayega, main rondungi tohe.” The meaning: the clay says to the potter, “Why do you trample me now? A day will come when I shall be the one to trample you.”’

The lines arrive not as literature, but as a prophecy. It is a moment where labour confronts power and mortality answers control. The room grows still; the only sound is the whisper of water and the breath of the participants. For Sangeeta, who also carries this “embodied approach” into the classroom as a teacher, pottery is a way of knowing that bypasses the intellect and speaks directly to the nerves. In a world obsessed with speed and digital detachment, her work insists on the “slow answer.”

When the workshop ends, there is often a profound silence. People forget to clap, their hands still stained with the grey-brown dust of the earth. They remain bound not by the spectacle they have seen, but by the realisation of what the clay has revealed.

About Author: Anu Jain is a Doctoral Scholar at Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi. Her research examines the intersection of Gandhian philosophy and Gender with a particular focus on the crucial role of Elected Women Representatives (EWRs).

Courtesy: The AIDEM

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