Colonial hangover and Constitutional Rights

Article 19 (1) (b) of the Constitution guarantees to every citizen the right “to assemble peaceably and without arms.” The clause reads as a right, not as a licence. It was drafted by people, Ambedkar, Patel, Munshi, Ayyar, who had themselves been the objects of a Raj-era regime that criminalised assembly. The very provisions still used to disperse and pre-empt protests today, Section 144 of the erstwhile Code of Criminal Procedure (now Section 163 of the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita), the police licensing powers under the various state Police Acts are in their bones, colonial. Section 144 traces back to 1861, drafted in the wake of 1857 by a colonial administration whose interest in “public order” was frankly the order of a foreign occupation. These provisions survived the constitutional transition without the searching examination they deserved, and they now sit comfortably under a rights charter they were never meant to serve.

The Constitution does permit “reasonable restrictions” on the right to assemble under Article 19(3), in the interests of the sovereignty and integrity of India or public order. But a “restriction” is not the same as a “permission requirement”. A restriction operates on conduct: it says you may not throw stones, you may not carry arms, you may not incite violence. A permission requirement operates on the right itself: it says you may not exercise the right at all unless an official first agrees that you may. The Supreme Court has repeatedly said, most memorably in S. Rangarajan v. P. Jagjivan Ram (1989), that any restriction on Article 19 rights must have a “proximate and direct nexus” with the mischief sought to be prevented — it cannot be a “remote, conjectural or far-fetched” apprehension. Permission regimes fail this test by design: they treat every citizen who wishes to assemble as a presumptive threat, requiring them to disprove a danger that has not yet materialised.

The Two Justifications, and Why Both Collapse

The defenders of permission regimes offer, essentially, two justifications. The first is the protection of the rights of others, the commuter’s right to move, the shopkeeper’s right to trade, the resident’s right to quiet. The second is the maintenance of law and order i.e., the fear that assemblies will turn violent, that competing groups will clash, that the police force will be overwhelmed. Both, on inspection, dissolve into arguments not for permission but against protest itself.

Rights vs. Rights

Consider the first. The claim that protests must not disturb the rights of others rests on a strange picture of what protest is for. A protest that inconveniences no one, that is safely tucked into a fenced enclosure at Jantar Mantar or a designated “protest ground” three kilometres from any centre of power, is not a protest in any meaningful sense. It is theatre performed to an empty house. The whole point of assembly, historically and philosophically, is to make a claim visible by making it felt. The villagers whose lands are being acquired for a highway that serves urban commuters cannot articulate their grievance more powerfully than by sitting on that very highway for a day. The disruption is not incidental to their message; it is their message. It says that the road that will be built at the cost of our fields is not, at this moment, more important than our objection. It forces the commuter, who would otherwise pass through obliviously, to briefly inhabit the same inconvenience the villager is being asked to inhabit permanently.

This is what Judith Butler calls the “performative” dimension of assembly: bodies gathered in public space are themselves a form of political speech, prior to and independent of any slogan they might shout. Hannah Arendt, in The Human Condition, argued that the political is precisely what appears in public space[1]; to deny appearance is to deny the political. And the Indian tradition, from Gandhi’s satyagraha onwards, has never pretended that legitimate protest is unobtrusive. The Salt March was illegal. The Champaran movement violated orders. If we take seriously the idea that Article 19(1)(b) protects a right of political appearance, then some measure of disruption to others is not a defect of the right. It is constitutive of it. Rights, as Ronald Dworkin put it, are trumps against ordinary utilitarian calculations; the fact that a protest inconveniences many does not, without more, defeat the right of the few to hold it.

None of this collapses into a licence for anything. A protest that blocks an ambulance, that occupies a road indefinitely for months, that targets private homes to intimidate, these can be regulated by ordinary law. What cannot be sustained is the conversion of the possibility of such conduct into a prior permission regime that treats every citizen as a suspect.

Law and order

The second justification is maintenance of law and order. The claim is that assemblies produce violence, and that permission regimes let police pre-position resources, prevent clashes between rival groups, and generally keep the peace. But we need to see what the argument actually asks the police to do. It does not ask them to act against violence when it occurs; it asks them to decide, in advance, which ideas and which groups are dangerous enough to be denied assembly. This is not policing conduct; this is policing politics. The right against prior restraint, which the Supreme Court has recognised in the context of speech at least since Brij Bhushan v. State of Delhi (1950), applies with equal force here. The state may punish what has gone wrong; it may not pre-emptively silence what has not yet happened.

If violence is genuinely apprehended, the police already have every tool they need. They can be present. They can intervene. They can arrest. The Supreme Court in IN Re Ramlila Maidan Incident v. Home Secretary (2012), examining the midnight crackdown on Baba Ramdev’s sleeping supporters, held emphatically that even where a gathering has become legally impermissible, the state’s response must be proportionate and cannot substitute brute force for lawful procedure. The Court’s reasoning cut both ways: as the state cannot use disproportionate force to disperse, it cannot use disproportionate suspicion to pre-empt.

The “Overwhelmed Police” Objection

The most sophisticated version of the law-and-order argument is the resource one i.e., what if bad-faith actors mobilise many small protests at once precisely to stretch the police thin, creating openings for genuine disorder elsewhere? The objection deserves a serious answer, and there are at least four.

First, this is a factual worry that assumes a policing infrastructure of the 1970s. The contemporary Indian state has surveillance capacities, CCTV networks, social media monitoring, drone reconnaissance, cell phone tower triangulation, that make coordinated deceptive mobilisation far harder to pull off than the objection assumes. If anything, the state’s problem today is an excess of pre-emptive information, not a deficit.

Second, this risk already exists under the permission regime. Permissions are routinely violated, spontaneous gatherings routinely occur, and the police already deal with more assemblies than they have formally licensed. The permission requirement does not solve the “stretched thin” problem; it merely gives the state an additional charge to file against organisers after the fact. The regime is redundant to the risk it claims to address.

Third, if a society genuinely has the political conditions for the kind of mass simultaneous mobilisation the objection imagines enough anger, enough distrust of the police, enough coordination against the state, then the answer is not more suppression. Suppression is what produces such conditions in the first place. Every serious student of political violence, from has documented that closed political systems, where legitimate outlets for grievance are shut down, are the ones that eventually explode. The permission regime is a pressure cooker with no whistle. Detangling protest from permission is not a concession to disorder; it is one of the surest ways to prevent the disorder that comes from bottled dissent.

Fourth, and most fundamentally, laws should not be framed around their most extreme abuses. The law of contract is not written for the fraudster, though fraudsters exist; the law of property is not written for the thief. To write the law of assembly around the imagined tactician who orchestrates diversionary protests is to write it for a caricature, and then to impose that caricature’s costs on every ordinary citizen who wishes to hold a candlelight vigil. Law-making is not a war between extremes; it is a negotiation between the ever-armed police and the sometimes-angry protester, and it must give the ordinary citizen the benefit of a presumption of good faith.

What the Indian Courts have actually said

Indian constitutional jurisprudence is more sympathetic to this argument than the daily practice of policing suggests. In Himat Lal K. Shah v. Commissioner of Police, Ahmedabad (1973), a Constitution Bench struck down a police rule that required prior permission for public meetings on public streets, holding that while the state may regulate the manner of assembly, it cannot vest an official with uncanalised discretion to refuse it altogether. In Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan v. Union of India (2018), the Court reaffirmed the right to peaceful protest as fundamental and directed the police to formulate guidelines that did not effectively extinguish it. Even Amit Sahni v. Commissioner of Police (2020), the Shaheen Bagh judgment, which held that public roads cannot be occupied “indefinitely”, was careful to note that the right to protest is constitutionally protected and that the state’s response must respect it, the Court’s concern was with duration and specific location, not with the existence of the assembly.

This is not to say that the Supreme Court or Judiciary shares the philosophy of this article in its entirety. In all the three judgements mentioned above, the court’s stance was that the police could regulate protests but not arbitrarily and such regulation included permission regime. It needs emphasis here that discussions on state’s power to curb freedoms and the right of citizens cannot be expected to have outright support from institutions of state like the judiciary.

What is important here therefore is the through-line in these judgments i.e., a recognition that Article 19 (1) (b) is a right, not a licence to be dispensed. Yet the ground-level practice i.e., station house officers refusing permissions on vague “law and order” grounds, proceeds as though the right did not exist. There is a wide gulf between the constitutional as lived at a police thana (local police station), and the gulf is filled by permission.

Detangling: A Constitutional Proposal

Detangling protest from permission does not mean abolishing all regulation. It means inverting the default setting as we see today. The right to assemble should be presumed; the state’s role should be to facilitate it and to intervene against specific unlawful conduct when and only when it occurs. Notification, telling the police in advance that an assembly is planned, so they may be present, is compatible with a rights regime. Permission, the police deciding whether the assembly may occur at all, is not.

This is not a radical proposition. It is what Article 19 (1) (b) already says, if we take its language seriously. The word “peaceably” in the clause is a description of the protected assembly; it is not a condition precedent that some official must certify. A peaceable assembly is protected because it is peaceable; if it ceases to be so, the ordinary criminal law applies. There is no constitutional space, between these two propositions, for a permission regime that treats peaceable citizens as presumptively dangerous.

Ambedkar warned, in his final speech to the Constituent Assembly, against the “grammar of anarchy” i.e., the use of unconstitutional methods when constitutional ones are open. It is worth completing his thought. Constitutional methods only remain open if they remain actually available. A right to protest that can be exercised only with the state’s permission, only in the state’s chosen enclosure, only for the state’s chosen duration, is not a constitutional method. It is a courtesy. Ambedkar’s grammar of anarchy takes hold precisely when the grammar of the Constitution has been quietly replaced by the grammar of the licence. Detangling protest from permission is not a departure from Ambedkar’s warning but actually a condition of its fulfilment.

(The author is part of the legal research team of the organisation)

[1] Hanna Arendt, The Public and Private Realm, The Human Condition, Page 59, University of Chicago Press (1998)

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Demonstrations in areas including Chaityabhoomi, Dadar and Shivaji Park were met with heavy police deployment, barricading and preventive action. While the police maintained that the gatherings were unauthorised and necessary measures were taken to prevent breaches of peace, protesters alleged that peaceful demonstrations were being criminalised through detentions and legal proceedings.

The movement of youth, that began with a call from the newly formed Cockroach Janata Party (CJP) has been amplified from the start by youth with no affiliation, youth associated with the CPI’s All India Students Federation, CPI-M’s SFI and AISA. Begun as as a youth-led protest against alleged irregularities in competitive examinations, including the NEET-UG controversy, has expanded into a broader demand for accountability, education reforms and responsibility from authorities over repeated failures affecting students. The events in Mumbai have now shifted attention to a larger question: whether administrative restrictions and criminal law are being used proportionately to regulate public protest.

Detailed piece on the Delhi protest and the excessive state action may be read here.

Mumbai Police impose prohibitory orders amid protests

On July 20, the Mumbai Police issued orders prohibiting assemblies of five or more persons in public places across the city from July 23 to August 6. The order also restricted processions, use of loudspeakers, musical instruments and other forms of public gatherings, citing apprehensions of breach of peace and disturbance to public tranquillity.

According to a report by The Economic Times, the restrictions were imposed shortly after a protest organised by the Sharad Pawar-led Nationalist Congress Party (SP) outside Mumbai University against the police action during the Student-CJP’s march to Parliament and Wangchuk’s removal from Jantar Mantar.

The police order invoked concerns of maintaining public order, but the timing of the restrictions, coming immediately after protests against police action in Delhi, raised concerns among civil society groups over whether broad preventive measures were being used to restrict constitutionally protected forms of dissent. The restrictions were imposed under the jurisdiction of the Mumbai Police Commissioner and remained applicable from midnight of July 23 until August 6.

Chaityabhoomi protests: Hundreds detained, FIRs registered

On July 20, hundreds of students and activists gathered near Chaityabhoomi in Dadar to express solidarity with the CJP movement and protest against alleged examination irregularities and the handling of Wangchuk’s hunger strike.

According to The Indian Express, the protest was organised under the banner of Mumbai Against Suppression of Students (MASS), with participation from student organisations including the Students’ Federation of India (SFI), All India Students’ Federation (AISF), Aamchi Padhai Aamchi Ladai and other youth groups. Protesters demanded accountability over alleged NEET irregularities and the resignation of Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan.

Police barricaded roads leading towards Chaityabhoomi and detained protesters attempting to reach the site. Organisers claimed that around 200 people were detained and taken to different police stations, including Sion, Dadar, Mahim and Worli.

Image: freepressjournal.in

The police, however, maintained that no permission had been granted for the protest. Deputy Commissioner of Police Mahendra Pandit stated that since the gathering proceeded despite denial of permission, action under law was being initiated.

The detentions were criticised by protesters, who alleged that peaceful demonstrators were prevented from exercising their right to assemble. Several participants told the media that they were detained despite carrying placards and raising slogans peacefully.

A protester quoted by The Indian Express said that students were demanding accountability over repeated examination failures and alleged that instead of addressing their concerns, authorities were detaining those raising questions.

FIRs against protesters and organisers

Following the protests, Mumbai Police registered multiple FIRs against demonstrators. The Indian Express reported that cases were registered against more than 900 people in connection with protests across Mumbai, including the largest FIR at Shivaji Park Police Station where over 600 protesters were named.

The FIRs invoked provisions of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS) and Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS) relating to unlawful assembly, disobedience of orders issued by public servants and obstruction of officials performing their duties. The police said they were examining CCTV footage, drone visuals and videos recorded during demonstrations to identify more participants.

Separately, Scroll reported that Mumbai Police registered three FIRs against more than 50 protesters following a solidarity demonstration near Chaityabhoomi. The cases invoked provisions relating to unlawful assembly, violation of prohibitory orders and offences under the Maharashtra Police Act.

The police argued that the protests were unauthorised and that restrictions were already in place. Protesters, however, questioned whether requiring prior permission could become a mechanism to prevent any inconvenient public mobilisation.

Image: indianexpress.com

Shivaji Park protest and political participation

The police action followed an earlier gathering at Shivaji Park on July 19, where hundreds assembled after Wangchuk’s removal from Jantar Mantar. The protest saw participation from Shiv Sena (UBT) president Uddhav Thackeray, who expressed solidarity with the movement and criticised the government’s handling of the agitation.

The Mumbai Police registered a case against organisers of the Shivaji Park gathering, stating that no permission had been granted for the demonstration. The Indian Express reported that the FIR was registered for alleged unlawful assembly. Police also registered cases linked to earlier demonstrations near Mantralaya and the Press Club, including against political workers and activists.

Notices issued to some detainees, while others await intimation

Following the detentions during the Mumbai protests, the legal status of several participants remained unclear. Those detained at Kalachowki Police Station were issued notice intimations under Section 35(3) of the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita (BNSS), requiring them to comply with procedural requirements, though they were not called to the police station on the day of issuance.

Meanwhile, detainees taken to Worli Police Station had not received any such notices at the time of reporting. The absence of uniform communication regarding the legal status of those detained has added to concerns among protesters and organisers over the manner in which preventive action was carried out.

A heavy police presence was also reported near the water tank area close to Byculla railway station, with police vehicles stationed in the vicinity, indicating continued monitoring and deployment following the protests.

Claims of suppression and the constitutional question

The escalation in Mumbai followed the Delhi Police action during the CJP’s “Chalo Sansad” march on July 20, where protesters attempting to move towards Parliament were dispersed using tear gas and batons. The Delhi action became a flashpoint, with videos circulating online showing police using force against demonstrators.

In Mumbai, organisations involved in the supportive protests, criticised the detentions, stating on social media that peaceful protest was a democratic right and accusing authorities of attempting to suppress a youth movement. The organisation’s founder Abhijeet Dipke also apologised to injured supporters following clashes in Delhi and alleged that protesters, including women participants, faced excessive force.

The Maharashtra government, however, defended police action. Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis said peaceful protests were constitutionally protected but argued that demonstrations without permission or those involving violence could not be accepted. He also alleged that some groups had attempted to use the agitation for unrelated political purposes, as per the Mid-Day report.

Political protests over police action

The police response itself became a subject of protest. The Sharad Pawar-led NCP (SP) organised a demonstration outside Mumbai University, condemning the action against CJP protesters in Delhi and Mumbai. Party leaders demanded the resignation of Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan over alleged examination failures and paper leaks.

According to reports carried by Telangana Today, NCP (SP) leaders accused authorities of suppressing democratic dissent and warned that youth movements would continue if accountability was not addressed.

A widening conflict over protest rights

The police response in Mumbai has brought into focus a familiar pattern in the State’s approach to dissent: administrative restrictions, preventive policing and criminal proceedings deployed before protests can fully unfold. While authorities have justified their actions on grounds of maintaining public order and enforcing permission requirements, the cumulative effect of prohibitory orders, mass detentions, extensive police deployment and multiple FIRs has been to significantly curtail public assembly.

At the heart of the issue is not simply whether permission was obtained for individual protests, but whether procedural requirements are increasingly being used to make the exercise of the constitutional right to peaceful assembly contingent on executive approval. When preventive detention, criminal prosecution and citywide restrictions become the primary response to peaceful mobilisation, the space for democratic dissent inevitably narrows.

What began as a youth-led movement demanding accountability for repeated failures in India’s examination system has, through the State’s response, become a wider test of democratic freedoms. The questions raised by students over examination integrity now sit alongside equally pressing questions about whether governments are responding to public criticism through engagement or through policing. As solidarity protests continue to attract criminal cases and heightened surveillance, the debate is no longer confined to education reforms—it is increasingly about whether constitutional rights can be meaningfully exercised when peaceful protest itself is treated as a law-and-order threat.

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The judgment is a strong reaffirmation of the constitutional guarantees under Articles 19 and 21, recognising that the freedom to express political disagreement and the right to live with dignity cannot be curtailed through executive action unsupported by law. Rejecting the police’s justification, the Court concluded that the externment proceedings were unsupported by material, based on an erroneous application of the Maharashtra Police Act, and tainted by mala fides.

The hearing also attracted considerable public attention because of Justice Jamdar’s unusually candid oral observations questioning the increasing use of criminal law against protesters and commenting on Maharashtra’s contemporary political landscape. Although these remarks do not form part of the operative judgment, they underscore the constitutional concerns that informed the Court’s approach to the case.

Background: Externment order passed against SDPI office-bearer

The petitioner, Saeed Ahmad Abdul Wahid Chaudhary, serves as the General Secretary of the Social Democratic Party of India (SDPI), a political party registered with the Election Commission of India under Section 29A of the Representation of the People Act, 1951. The writ petition challenged two administrative orders: an externment order dated December 3, 2025 passed by the Deputy Commissioner of Police, Zone VI, Chembur, Mumbai, and the appellate order dated March 27, 2026 passed by the Divisional Commissioner, Konkan Division, affirming the externment.

The externment directed that Chaudhary be removed from the area for one year under Section 56 of the Maharashtra Police Act.

According to the State authorities, several FIRs had been registered against him, principally in connection with protests organised against decisions of the Union Government. These included demonstrations concerning amendments to citizenship laws, the Gyanvapi mosque dispute, and other politically contentious issues. The police alleged that the protests had been conducted despite the denial of permission and that slogans critical of the Central Government had been raised during these demonstrations.

Represented by Advocate Payoshi Roy, the petitioner contended that the criminal cases relied upon by the authorities were overwhelmingly under Section 188 of the Indian Penal Code for alleged disobedience of prohibitory orders. These FIRs, it was argued, arose solely because the petitioner had organised morchas, dharnas and agitations in his capacity as a political office-bearer opposing governmental decisions. Such activities, the petitioner submitted, could not legitimately constitute grounds for invoking the drastic power of externment under Section 56 of the Maharashtra Police Act.

The petition further alleged that the externment proceedings reflected a mala fide exercise of power and lacked the statutory “subjective satisfaction” required under the Act. To support this challenge, reliance was placed upon the Supreme Court’s decision in Anuradha Bhasin v. Union of India as well as the Gujarat High Court’s decision in Mohmmad Kaleem Taufiq Ahmed Siddiqui v. State of Gujarat, both of which recognised the constitutional protection afforded to peaceful democratic protest.

The State, on the other hand, defended the externment by relying upon an affidavit filed by the Deputy Commissioner of Police. The prosecution argued that the petitioner had organised demonstrations despite police refusal of permission and that the slogans raised during such protests justified preventive action under the Maharashtra Police Act.

However, the High Court found that the State’s case fundamentally misunderstood both the purpose and scope of the externment provisions.

Justice Jamdar’s Oral Remarks: ‘Citizens are being made slaves of the government’

During the hearing, as reported by LiveLaw, Justice Madhav Jamdar made a series of pointed oral observations questioning the increasing tendency to invoke criminal law against citizens who protest governmental policies.

Expressing concern over the police’s approach, the Court observed that democratic governance cannot function if citizens are prevented from voicing disagreement with the government of the day.

Questioning the rationale behind the externment proceedings, reported LiveLaw, Justice Jamdar orally remarked: “All citizens are being made slaves of the Indian Government. They cannot stage protests, they cannot agitate… What is all this? If people protest, you will slap cases. It is the right of citizens to protest.”

The Court further questioned why slogans critical of political leaders or the ruling party should invite such severe executive action.

Referring to the allegations against the petitioner, Justice Jamdar observed that slogans such as “BJP Government Murdabad” or “Amit Shah Murdabad” represented political expression, asking why such slogans should become grounds for externing a citizen.

The Court also reminded the State of the constitutional role of law enforcement agencies, orally remarking that: “Police are not servants of the Chief Minister or the Prime Minister. They are public servants.”

Justice Jamdar even warned that he was inclined to impose substantial costs on the officers responsible for passing such an order, reflecting the Court’s deep dissatisfaction with the manner in which the statutory power had been exercised.

These oral observations, though not forming part of the written judgment, echoed the constitutional principles ultimately embodied in the Court’s final order—that executive powers cannot be deployed to suppress legitimate political opposition or peaceful democratic activity.

‘Horse-Trading’ and the ‘Washing Machine’: Court’s sharp political commentary

The hearing also attracted national attention because of Justice Jamdar’s comments on the prevailing political climate in Maharashtra. During the proceedings, as per the LiveLaw report, after noting that the petitioner belonged to the SDPI, the Court referred to the ongoing movement of legislators between political parties.

Justice Jamdar observed that while the State Assembly was occupied with discussions regarding shifting political loyalties and the election of its Presiding Officer, more pressing public issues, including the death of a ten-year-old child in a road accident,appeared to receive comparatively little attention.

In a lighter vein, the Judge remarked that the petitioner himself might consider changing political sides, adding that “horse-trading” appeared to be occurring across Maharashtra. Referring to the criminal cases pending against the petitioner, Justice Jamdar further quipped that perhaps he should join the “washing machine“—an unmistakable allusion to the popular political expression suggesting that corruption or criminal allegations tend to disappear after politicians join the ruling establishment.

Although these comments were made humorously and do not constitute judicial findings, they quickly became among the most widely discussed aspects of the hearing because of their obvious political significance and broader commentary on contemporary public discourse.

The Court’s Legal Reasoning: Why the externment order could not stand

While the oral observations generated widespread attention, the written judgment is equally significant for its careful examination of the statutory limits governing externment powers under the Maharashtra Police Act and its reaffirmation of constitutional protections for political dissent. Justice Madhav Jamdar systematically dismantled the factual and legal basis relied upon by the police, ultimately concluding that the externment order rested on no legally sustainable foundation.

At the heart of the dispute was Section 56 of the Maharashtra Police Act, a preventive provision that empowers designated authorities to direct a person to remove themselves from a particular area under narrowly defined circumstances. Since an externment order deprives an individual of the freedom to reside and move freely within a particular territory, the provision has consistently been treated by courts as an extraordinary preventive measure that must be exercised with great caution.

The Court therefore began its analysis not with the allegations against the petitioner, but with the statutory requirements themselves.

1. Section 56 of the Maharashtra Police Act: A preventive, not punitive, power

Justice Jamdar reproduced the relevant portions of Section 56(1)(a) and (b) of the Maharashtra Police Act to determine whether the authorities had satisfied the statutory conditions before directing the petitioner’s externment.

Under Section 56(1)(a), externment may be ordered only where the movements or acts of a person are causing, or are calculated to cause, alarm, danger or harm to persons or property.

Section 56(1)(b), on the other hand, authorises externment where there are reasonable grounds to believe that a person is engaged in, or is about to engage in, offences involving force or violence or offences punishable under specified chapters of the Indian Penal Code, particularly offences against the human body, coupled with an assessment that witnesses are unwilling to come forward because of fear.

The Court emphasised that these are not broad administrative powers permitting the State to remove inconvenient political opponents from a locality. Rather, they are exceptional preventive measures intended to address genuine threats to public safety.

Consequently, before an externment order can lawfully be passed, the authorities must possess objective material capable of supporting the statutory satisfaction required under Section 56.

Merely reproducing the language of the statute without factual support is insufficient.

2. The allegations against the petitioner did not meet the statutory threshold

Applying these principles to the facts before it, the Court found that the police had failed to demonstrate how the petitioner’s conduct satisfied either limb of Section 56.

Justice Jamdar noted that it was an admitted position that Saeed Ahmad Abdul Wahid Chaudhary had organised protests, morchas and dharnas in his capacity as Secretary of the Social Democratic Party of India against decisions taken by the Union Government. The State itself accepted that these demonstrations constituted the basis of the proceedings.

However, beyond recording that protests had been organised and slogans raised, the authorities had placed no material before the Court demonstrating that the petitioner’s activities had caused alarm, danger or harm to persons or property.

The FIRs relied upon by the State primarily alleged that demonstrations had been organised without police permission and therefore constituted offences under Section 188 of the Indian Penal Code for disobedience of promulgated orders.

Justice Jamdar observed that an alleged violation of Section 188 IPC, carrying only a relatively minor punishment, could not by itself justify invoking the extraordinary machinery of externment.

The Court stated in unambiguous terms that there was “no material on record” demonstrating that the petitioner’s movements or activities caused, or were calculated to cause, alarm, danger or harm as required by Section 56. Instead, every FIR relied upon by the authorities essentially alleged only that he had organised political protests against decisions of the Government of India and that some of these protests had taken place without prior permission. Such allegations, the Court held, simply did not satisfy the statutory requirements for externment.

“There is no material on record to show that the movements or acts of the Petitioner are causing or calculated to cause alarm, danger or harm to person or property. In all these FIR, the allegation is that the Petitioner, in his capacity as the Secretary of the Social Democratic Party of India, has arranged agitations/morchas/dharnas, opposing certain decisions taken by the Government of India. The other allegation is that such agitations/morchas/dharnas have been arranged without permission of the Police. The same is an offence under Section 188 of the IPC and maximum punishment is of simple imprisonment of one month. However, that cannot be a ground for passing the externment order under the provisions of the Maharashtra Police Act.” (Para 7)

This distinction proved decisive. The judgment makes clear that unlawful assembly or violation of regulatory conditions governing protests may attract criminal consequences under the applicable penal provisions, but such allegations cannot automatically be elevated into grounds for preventive exile under the Maharashtra Police Act.

To hold otherwise would fundamentally alter the character of Section 56, transforming a narrowly tailored preventive provision into an instrument capable of suppressing political opposition.

3. The court finds the authorities’ ‘subjective satisfaction’ was vitiated

One of the most important aspects of the judgment concerns the doctrine of subjective satisfaction, which lies at the heart of preventive measures such as externment. Although externment orders involve administrative discretion, that discretion is not immune from judicial scrutiny.

The authority must genuinely arrive at the statutory satisfaction based upon relevant material. Justice Jamdar carefully examined the externment proposal and the affidavit filed by the police. While these documents repeatedly asserted that the petitioner’s activities were causing alarm, danger and harm to the public, the Court found that the supporting material did not justify these conclusions.

The FIRs themselves narrated only that the petitioner had organised agitations against decisions of the Union Government and raised political slogans. There was no evidence of violence, no evidence of intimidation, no evidence of danger to public safety, or of harm to persons or property.

The Court therefore concluded that the findings recorded by the authorities were unsupported by the factual record. Consequently, the statutory “subjective satisfaction” required under Section 56 stood vitiated because it rested upon assertions rather than evidence.

“Although the Externment Proposal, the details of which are set out in the Affidavit-in-Reply, records that the movements and acts of the Petitioner are causing or are calculated to cause, alarm, danger and harm to the public and property, perusal of the FIRs on the basis of which action is taken and the gist of which is set out in the Affidvit-in-Reply shows that the only allegation is that the Petitioner has arranged agitations/morchas/dharnas against certain decisions of the Union of India and given slogans. Thus, the subjective satisfaction recorded by the authorities that movements and acts of the Petitioner are causing or are calculated to cause, alarm, danger and harm to the public and property, is without any material to support the same. Thus, the subjective satisfaction is vitiated.” (Para 9)

Justice Jamdar held that although the authorities had formally recorded that the petitioner’s movements were causing alarm and danger, a scrutiny of the underlying FIRs revealed no factual basis capable of supporting such a conclusion. The recorded satisfaction was therefore unsupported by material and legally unsustainable. The judgment thus reiterates a long-standing principle of administrative law—that preventive powers cannot be exercised merely by reciting statutory language. The existence of objective material remains subject to judicial review.

4. A finding of mala fides against the state

Perhaps the most striking aspect of the written judgment is the Court’s express acceptance of the petitioner’s allegation that the action bore the hallmarks of mala fides. After analysing the nature of the FIRs and the statutory requirements, Justice Jamdar observed that there was substance in the petitioner’s contention that the externment proceedings constituted a mala fide exercise of power.

“There is substance in the contention raised by Ms. Roy, learned Counsel for the Petitioner, that the action taken is a mala fide action.” (Para 8)

Although the judgment does not embark upon an elaborate discussion of improper motive, this finding carries considerable legal significance. Indian courts are ordinarily reluctant to attribute mala fides to executive authorities without compelling material.

The Court’s conclusion therefore reflects its view that the statutory power had been invoked for a purpose divorced from the object for which Section 56 was enacted. Externment exists to prevent imminent threats to public order—not to remove political activists whose principal activity consists of organising protests against governmental policies.

By accepting the allegation of mala fides, the Court effectively recognised that preventive policing cannot become a substitute for managing political dissent. The finding significantly strengthens the constitutional character of the judgment, indicating that the problem before the Court was not merely one of procedural irregularity but one involving the misuse of statutory authority itself.

5. The judgment as a constitutional reaffirmation of the right to dissent

Beyond the statutory shortcomings in the externment proceedings, Justice Madhav Jamdar anchored the decision firmly within India’s constitutional framework, emphasising that democratic disagreement with the government lies at the heart of constitutional governance. The judgment makes it abundantly clear that preventive policing cannot become a mechanism for punishing political expression, particularly where citizens seek to voice opposition through peaceful and organised protest.

The Court rejected the implicit premise underlying the State’s action, that repeated protests against government policies, coupled with criminal cases arising from such demonstrations, could justify the extraordinary remedy of externment. Instead, it recognised that such an approach strikes directly at the freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution.

“It is settled legal position that an order of externment is an extraordinary measure and effect of such order is of depriving a citizen of his fundamental right of free movement throughout the territory of India.” (Para 10)

Referring specifically to Articles 19 and 21, Justice Jamdar observed that the Constitution protects not only the right of citizens to express their opinions but also their right to live with dignity. These guarantees, the Court held, are substantially impaired when the State seeks to remove a person from his locality merely because he has criticised governmental decisions or organised political demonstrations.

The Court unequivocally held:

“The action taken by the Respondent–State of Maharashtra of externing the Petitioner, merely for opposing certain decisions of the Government of India, affects the Petitioner’s fundamental right of freedom of speech and expression and also right to live with dignity.” (Para 12)

The observation is significant because it extends the analysis beyond the freedom of speech guaranteed under Article 19 (1) (a). By invoking Article 21, the Court recognised that an externment order has consequences that reach far beyond physical displacement. It disrupts an individual’s social existence, political participation, livelihood, community ties and personal dignity. The judgment therefore situates externment not merely as an administrative measure but as one carrying profound constitutional implications.

Political opposition cannot be converted into grounds for preventive action

One of the clearest messages emerging from the judgment is that criticism of the government, even if forceful, unpopular or politically inconvenient, does not transform a citizen into a threat to public order.

Throughout the proceedings, the State repeatedly relied upon the petitioner’s participation in protests against governmental decisions, including demonstrations concerning citizenship-related issues and other matters of public controversy. However, Justice Jamdar drew a sharp constitutional distinction between opposition to government policy and conduct that genuinely threatens public safety.

The judgment records that the petitioner’s activities consisted principally of organising agitations, morchas and dharnas against decisions taken by the Government of India. The allegations further indicated that he had raised political slogans and organised demonstrations despite refusal of police permission. Yet none of these circumstances, the Court held, established the statutory conditions necessary for externment. This distinction assumes considerable constitutional importance.

Democratic governments routinely face criticism, protests and organised political mobilisation. If such activities were sufficient to justify preventive measures like externment, the constitutional guarantee of political speech would become contingent upon executive approval. Justice Jamdar’s judgment rejects precisely such an approach. Instead, it reaffirms that disagreement with governmental decisions is not a constitutional anomaly—it is one of the defining characteristics of a functioning democracy.

Precedents invoked in the judgment

1. Reliance on Anuradha Bhasin: Democratic rights cannot be suppressed

The Court’s constitutional reasoning was reinforced by its reliance upon the Supreme Court’s landmark decision in Anuradha Bhasin v. Union of India. Although Anuradha Bhasin primarily concerned restrictions imposed under Section 144 of the Code of Criminal Procedure following the constitutional changes in Jammu and Kashmir, the principles articulated by the Supreme Court regarding democratic freedoms were considered directly relevant to the present case.

Justice Jamdar noted that the Supreme Court had clearly held that extraordinary executive powers cannot be used as instruments to suppress legitimate expressions of opinion, grievances or democratic rights.

By invoking Anuradha Bhasin, the Bombay High Court placed the present dispute within a broader constitutional jurisprudence recognising that preventive powers must always be exercised consistently with democratic freedoms.

The precedent underscores that constitutional rights cannot be displaced merely because executive authorities find political protests inconvenient or uncomfortable.

2. Support from the Gujarat High Court’s decision on political protests

The Court also relied upon the Gujarat High Court’s decision in Mohmmad Kaleem Taufiq Ahmed Siddiqui v. State of Gujarat, a case involving remarkably similar facts.

Justice Jamdar observed that the Gujarat High Court had considered a situation where an externment order had likewise been issued against a citizen for participating in protests against decisions of the Union Government. The Gujarat High Court held that such circumstances could not legally justify externment and consequently set aside the order.

Finding the reasoning directly applicable, Justice Jamdar held that the principles laid down by both the Supreme Court in Anuradha Bhasin and the Gujarat High Court squarely governed the present dispute.

The reliance on these precedents strengthens the judgment’s doctrinal foundation by demonstrating that courts across jurisdictions have consistently viewed preventive restrictions on political protest with constitutional scepticism.

3. Externment is an extraordinary measure, not an ordinary administrative tool

The judgment also draws support from the Supreme Court’s decision in Deepak s/o Laxman Dongre v. State of Maharashtra, which characterised externment as an extraordinary measure because of its direct impact on an individual’s liberty and freedom of movement.

Justice Jamdar reiterated that externment cannot be treated as a routine administrative response to alleged misconduct.

Unlike ordinary criminal prosecution, an externment order effectively banishes an individual from a particular area, restricting movement, disrupting family life, employment and political participation. Such a drastic consequence necessarily demands strict compliance with statutory safeguards and close judicial scrutiny.

The Court’s reasoning reinforces the settled principle that preventive measures must remain exceptional. Administrative convenience or political sensitivity cannot dilute the high threshold established by law.

Externment orders quashed in their entirety

Having found that the statutory conditions under Section 56 were absent, that the authorities’ subjective satisfaction lacked evidentiary support, that the proceedings were vitiated by mala fides, and that the petitioner’s constitutional rights had been infringed, the Court allowed the writ petition in full.

Justice Jamdar quashed both the original externment order dated December 3, 2025 passed by the Deputy Commissioner of Police, Zone VI, Chembur, Mumbai, as well as the appellate order dated March 27, 2026 passed by the Divisional Commissioner, Konkan Division, thereby completely restoring the petitioner’s rights.

A judgment with wider constitutional significance

Although the immediate dispute concerned the externment of a single political activist, the judgment speaks to a much broader constitutional concern: the increasing use of preventive legal mechanisms against political dissent.

Externment laws were enacted to protect society from individuals whose conduct presents a demonstrable threat to public order or safety. They were never intended to become instruments for regulating political speech or discouraging public protest. Justice Jamdar’s decision restores that distinction.

By insisting that the statutory prerequisites under Section 56 must be established through objective material, by recognising the chilling effect of punitive action against protesters, and by reaffirming that Articles 19 and 21 protect not merely abstract liberties but the practical ability of citizens to oppose governmental decisions, the judgment reinforces a foundational constitutional principle—that democracy cannot function without dissent.

Read alongside the Court’s striking oral observations questioning attempts to criminalise protest, criticising the misuse of police powers, and cautioning against treating political opposition as a threat to public order, the decision stands as a robust reminder that constitutional governance demands tolerance of disagreement. Governments may disagree with protesters, investigate genuine criminality where it exists, and regulate assemblies in accordance with law, but they cannot employ extraordinary preventive powers to exile citizens simply because they challenge those in authority.

In doing so, the Bombay High Court has delivered a judgment that is likely to resonate well beyond the facts of this individual case, strengthening the constitutional jurisprudence on political dissent, preventive policing and the limits of executive power.

The complete judgment may be read below:

Related:

How “Khalistani” became a weaponised political label against Sikh dissent

Silence in the Statistics: What NCRB data doesn’t say about dissent

Maharashtra Special Public Security Bill: Bogey of “urban naxals” invoked to legitimise clamping down of dissent?

Mob justice in Bengal? Mahua Moitra’s siege and the High Court’s constitutional message

The post Bombay HC condemns use of externment to silence political dissent; says opposition to government cannot be treated as a crime appeared first on SabrangIndia.

What followed has only deepened that concern. Across campuses, students protesting the Supreme Court stay on UGC (Promotion of Equity in Higher Education Institutions) Regulations, 2026 have faced intimidation, surveillance, violence, and criminal process. Instead of debate, there has been policing. Instead of institutional introspection, securitisation. And instead of engagement with the substance of caste discrimination, there has been an aggressive narrowing of what may even be spoken.

Together, these developments mark a dangerous convergence: the criminalisation of speech, the judicial suspension of equity safeguards, and the shrinking of democratic space within institutions meant to nurture critical thought.

देशभर में यूजीसी एक्ट के समर्थन में बहुजन छात्रों के प्रदर्शन हो रहे हैं, लेकिन मुख्यधारा का मीडिया चुप है। pic.twitter.com/Nqdq8CpJhd

— Hansraj Meena (@HansrajMeena) February 4, 2026

A judicial stay that did not calm campuses—but exposed a fault line

The immediate trigger for nationwide student mobilisation was the Supreme Court’s decision to stay the UGC Equity Regulations 2026, observing that the framework appeared “too sweeping” and required closer scrutiny. The stay was framed as a neutral act of caution. On campuses, it was experienced as something else entirely: a sudden withdrawal of long-awaited recognition.

As reported by India Today, students argued that the regulations were halted before they could even be tested. No implementation, no data, no demonstrated misuse—only a speculative fear that accountability mechanisms might be abused. The contrast was striking. In a legal system where far-reaching executive actions are often allowed to operate while constitutional challenges remain pending for years, a framework designed to protect marginalised students was frozen at inception.

The context matters. The 2026 regulations did not emerge in a vacuum. They were the product of years of litigation, including the long-pending petition filed by the mothers of Rohith Vemula and Payal Tadvi, both of whom died by suicide after alleged caste-based harassment. Over time, the Supreme Court itself sought reports, monitored compliance, and pressed for reform. A Parliamentary Standing Committee reviewed the draft regulations in late 2025, recommending substantive changes—many of which were incorporated.

Yet, at the very first hearing after notification, the framework was stayed.

For students already navigating hostile campuses, the implication was stark: caste discrimination may be acknowledged rhetorically, but meaningful institutional safeguards remain deeply contested.

Campuses Respond: Different languages, the same demand for justice

The response to the stay has varied across universities, shaped by institutional histories and student politics. But taken together, protests at JNU, BHU, and Delhi University reveal a shared insistence that equity cannot remain a matter of administrative goodwill.

JNU: The defence of ideological space

At Jawaharlal Nehru University, students organised torchlight processions demanding immediate implementation of the regulations and renewed calls for a statutory Rohith Act—a central anti-discrimination law for higher education.

Placards and slogans opposing Brahmanism and Manusmriti dominated the march. Defending the language used, JNUSU representatives told PTI that the slogans were ideological critiques, not attacks on any caste group—an important distinction grounded in established free-speech jurisprudence. Political critique, even when sharp or unsettling, lies at the heart of constitutional democracy.

Student leaders also raised a pointed question: why was extraordinary urgency shown in staying these regulations when countless cases involving civil liberties remain pending for years? The warning from the campus was clear—if justice is indefinitely deferred within universities, it will not remain confined there.

UGC गाइडलाइन के समर्थन में जेएनयू स्टूडेंट्स का मार्च#JNU #UGCRegulations2026 pic.twitter.com/S9tlsULus0

— Dalit Dastak | दलित दस्तक (@DalitDastak) February 4, 2026

BHU: Evidence, reports, and institutional failure

At Banaras Hindu University, the protest took a different form. Hundreds of SC, ST, and OBC students marched carrying letters, official reports, and citations, demanding Equal Opportunity Centres, Equity Committees, transparency in grievance redressal, and public disclosure of compliance.

As reported by India Today, students cited the Thorat Committee Report (2007) and the IIT Delhi study (2019), both of which document systemic discrimination and its links to mental health crises, dropouts, and suicides. The emphasis here was not symbolic resistance but institutional accountability.

A heavy police presence and alert proctorial boards accompanied the march—an unsettling reminder of how quickly claims of discrimination are met with securitisation rather than reform.

Delhi University: From regulation to law

At Delhi University, Left-backed student groups led an “Equity March” through North Campus, framing the issue as a legislative and constitutional question. According to The Times of India, speakers argued that without statutory backing, grievance mechanisms remain fragile, easily diluted, and subject to withdrawal.

The demand for the Rohith Act surfaced repeatedly—reflecting a growing consensus that enforceable rights, not discretionary guidelines, are essential to address structural caste discrimination.

Violence, policing, and the price of naming caste

Even as students mobilised, reports of violence and intimidation surfaced from multiple campuses. As per reports, a BHU student allegedly being beaten by upper-caste peers for sharing a poster supporting the UGC protests in a WhatsApp group. At Allahabad University, students discussing equity regulations were reportedly attacked, with allegations pointing to ABVP-linked groups.

Most chilling was the Allahabad University episode itself: students allegedly assaulted, and one student arrested or warned for speech alone. If the use of the word “Brahminism”—a staple of academic critique—can invite police action, the boundary between maintaining order and enforcing ideological conformity has all but vanished.

For many protesters, these incidents crystallised the argument for equity regulations: without enforceable safeguards, marginalised students are left vulnerable not just to bureaucratic neglect, but to physical and legal harm.

चप्पा चप्पा गूंज उठेगा , जय भीम के नारों से pic.twitter.com/5eb3H59nXr

— Dr. Om Sudha (@dromsudhaa) February 4, 2026

This is shocking and absolutely unacceptable in university campuses. Students who were peacefully discussing equity regulations in University of Allahabad were reportedly beaten up by Brahmanical forces of ABVP. This is exactly why we need equity regulations. The safety of… pic.twitter.com/beFHX0xoSh

— Rehna Raveendran (@Rehna_AntiCaste) February 4, 2026

A BHU student was brutally beaten by upper-caste students simply for sharing a poster about the UGC protest in a WhatsApp group.

To stop this kind of hooliganism and violence on campuses, strong and enforceable UGC regulations are absolutely necessary.
pic.twitter.com/vUKPXjAjm1

— Harshita Narayani (@DearAspirant) February 4, 2026

Faculty Unease and the Limits of the Framework

Faculty responses have complicated the picture rather than resolved it. The JNUTA noted that the regulations fail to address the deep-rooted and systemic nature of discrimination. At protest gatherings, faculty speakers acknowledged these limitations—pointing to the absence of punitive provisions, excessive power vested in principals, and the exclusion of elite institutions like IITs and IIMs.

Yet the consensus among many educators was striking: even an imperfect framework represented a rare institutional acknowledgment that caste discrimination exists on campuses. To halt it before implementation was not correction—it was erasure.

Media silence, political quiet, and democratic erosion

A recurring concern across protests has been the muted response of large sections of the mainstream media and the conspicuous absence of sustained parliamentary debate. Students questioned how a nationwide mobilisation demanding discrimination-free campuses could unfold without political engagement at the highest levels.

When speech is criminalised, safeguards are stayed, and violence is normalised or ignored, trust in democratic institutions begins to fracture—not through apathy, but through lived experience.

देशभर में यूजीसी एक्ट के समर्थन में बहुजन छात्रों के प्रदर्शन हो रहे हैं, लेकिन मुख्यधारा का मीडिया चुप है। pic.twitter.com/Nqdq8CpJhd

— Hansraj Meena (@HansrajMeena) February 4, 2026

More Than a Regulation: A test of university democracy

As highlighted by the incidents above, the battle over the UGC Equity Regulations has outgrown the regulations themselves. It has become a test of whether universities will remain spaces of critique or instruments of control; whether caste can be named without punishment; and whether equality will be treated as a constitutional obligation or an administrative inconvenience.

When students are arrested for words, protections are suspended before they are tried, and dissent is met with force rather than reason, the crisis is no longer confined to campuses. It speaks to the health of the republic itself.

The question now confronting India’s universities is no longer about guidelines or committees. It is about whether democracy—messy, uncomfortable, and argumentative—still has a place in the classroom.

.Related:

Hate Speech Before the Supreme Court: From judicial activism to institutional closure

When Protest becomes a “Threat”: Inside the Supreme Court hearing on Sonam Wangchuk’s NSA detention

Another Campus, Another Death: Student suicides continue unabated across India

My birth is my fatal accident, remembering Rohith Vemula’s last letter

‘Diluted Existing Rules’: Rohith Vemula, Payal Tadvi’s Mothers Slam UGC’s Draft Equity Regulations

The stay of UGC Equity Regulations, 2026: The interim order, the proceedings, and the constitutional questions raised

The post Campuses in Revolt: How the UGC Equity Stay and Criminalised Dissent Have Ignited Student Protests Across India appeared first on SabrangIndia.

[Note: Before proceeding, I should situate myself: I studied Literature at AMU between 2015–2018 and lived in one of its hostels. This is not to claim privileged insight, but to underline that my reflections come from lived proximity rather than distant observation.]

The recently aborted student protest at Aligarh Muslim University (AMU)—ostensibly about reviving the Students’ Union (AMUSU) rather than resisting the fee hike—offers a troubling yet instructive window into the nature of campus politics at AMU.

A Legitimate Beginning

At the outset, it must be remembered that the agitation began on a legitimate plank: the arbitrary and unjustified fee hike. For many students from modest backgrounds, AMU’s subsidized education is their only ladder to upward mobility. Their resistance was therefore natural and justified. The protest was marked by determination and—crucially—visible leadership from female students who camped at Bab-e-Syed. Their resilience forced the administration to roll back the hike to 20%.

But soon, the focus shifted.

The Twist

Before engaging with this shift, a brief background is essential. AMUSU—short for Aligarh Muslim University Students’ Union—was, in principle, meant to bridge the administration and the student community by offering effective representation. In practice, however, its history paints a sorry picture.

Supporters romanticise AMUSU as a “nursery for leadership,” pointing to names like Azam Khan and Arif Mohammad Khan. Yet, since 2017, when the University suspended it on the flimsy pretext of law and order, AMU has remained without an elected student body. The suspension was arbitrary and undemocratic, contradicting the very spirit of a university as a space for debate, dissent, and contrarian thought.

Reality, however, diverges sharply from the romanticism. Over the past decade, AMUSU has drifted far from its founding purpose. Most office-bearers—barring rare exceptions—have been academic underperformers or regional strongmen who treated the Union as a launchpad for failed political careers or as a network for contracts, patronage, and admissions. Regionalism thrived through collusion with faculty members from their own provinces, while the welfare of the broader student body remained a mere veneer. Unsurprisingly, AMUSU enjoys little respect among ordinary students.

Against this backdrop, the fee hike protest had nothing to do with AMUSU elections. Yet, seeing a readymade platform for mobilization, the AMUSU lobby opportunistically inserted itself. For a few days, they kept the rollback of fees as the visible agenda and AMUSU revival as a secondary one. But when their chances dimmed, anxiety set in. Their desperation

was rooted in past failures—one prominent activist had even approached the Supreme Court with a contempt petition citing the Lyngdoh Committee, only to have it dismissed in July 2025, a fact he concealed from fellow students. With the fee protest gaining momentum, the lobby saw its golden chance: a mass movement they could never build on their own was suddenly available to hijack.

How AMUSU Aspirants Hijacked the Fee-Hike Protest

Sections of students who had long lobbied for AMUSU elections—despite lacking credibility among peers—seized the protest as a platform to advance their agenda. History shows that AMUSU has ceased to represent students in any meaningful sense. Much like Ambedkar’s critique of Indian villages as “sink of localism, a den of ignorance, narrow mindedness, caste and communalism,” AMUSU has degenerated into a den of factionalism, patronage, and regressiveness.

Rather than critiquing, confronting and exposing systemic issues—declining academic standards, nepotistic faculty and administrative recruitments, inbreeding in admissions, or entrenched elites’ dominance—the AMUSU camp staged hunger strikes and moral dramas, allegedly under the blessings of a Law professor and the Eastern UP faction. These theatrics were less about student welfare and more about arm-twisting the administration.

Gender Insensitivity and Hypocrisy

Equally glaring is the hypocrisy. The same AMUSU hopefuls who now cloak themselves in the language of student rights were absent when female students were mishandled by the Proctorial team during protests over electricity shortages. Their selective silence exposes a deep gender insensitivity. Worse, when the fee hike protesters—mostly girls—refused to be co-opted, they were abused, branded “dalals,” and smeared on social media.

A movement that cannot respect women within its own ranks stands discredited- and rightly so.

The Deal with the Administration: Regional Politics at Play

Perhaps the most disturbing development was the timing of the administration’s assurance to the hunger striker: elections in December, after semester exams. This timing was no coincidence. By then, most outstation students—from Bihar, Bengal, the Kerala, and Kashmir

—would have left, leaving the electoral field to Western UP students and their Azamgarh allies.

Why not hold elections in August–September, when all students are present? Neither the administration nor the hunger striker offered a convincing answer. Their silence reeks of sub- regional opportunism.

What Went Off the Agenda?

Equally telling is what disappeared from the protesters led by hunger striker’s list of demands:

1. School fee hikes—despite RTE 2009 and the active role of Ahmadi School students— were quietly dropped, even though they had kept Centenary Gate closed till 19 August
2. Administrative accountability—the demand for replacing the Proctor, Director (Schools), and Controller of Exams was abandoned. The moment students pressed for the removal of the long-serving ad hoc Controller (a local appointee with entrenched clout), the entire protest was abruptly called off before sunrise on 19

This sequence exposes the deeper malaise: protests shaped less by genuine grievances than by the compulsions of entrenched elites.

The Larger Picture: Opportunism of the Muslim Elite

This episode raises uncomfortable questions not only about AMU but about India’s Muslim elites more broadly:

1. Why do entrenched cliques, clouts, lobbies monopolize university offices and student bodies?
2. Why is regional dominance—particularly of Western UP and Azamgarh—normalized, while voices from other provinces are systematically muted?

• Why do organizations like SIO or IYF remain silent on nepotism, gender insensitivity, or ad hoc appointments, yet selectively speak up when AMUSU’s revival is at stake?

The answer is crude opportunism. These elites are less invested in reform than in safeguarding their own hegemony.

Conclusion

The August 2025 AMU protests reveal a painful truth: genuine student concerns—fee hikes, gender justice, transparent governance, fair examinations—were eclipsed by the opportunism of a narrow faction bent on reviving AMUSU for self-interest.

The December election timeline, the abandonment of school fee issues, the silence on the ad hoc   appointments of high administrative officers/directors that too from within the internal teachers , and the abuse of female protesters expose the agitation for what it was: a cynical power       play.   Far      from sacrifice,               the    hunger    strike    was    political theatre. And the administration, complicit through opaque bargains, stands equally discredited.

In the end, one is left asking: was this agitation ever meant to empower students, or was it always designed to pressure the Hon’ble Supreme Court, which heard the case of VC’s appointed on 18 August 2025; the Petitioners, too, in the said case are insiders; and protect sub-regional dominance?

The anatomy of this protest leaves little doubt: AMUSU and the AMU administration mirror each other’s failures. Together, they embody what is wrong with entrenched elite politics of Muslims—visionless, opportunistic, and hostile to the aspirations of common students.

(The author of this article known to the Editors chooses to remain anonymous)

The post Power, Patronage, and Protest: The Making of AMUSU’s Opportunism appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The meeting was permitted only after the Bombay High Court intervened for a second time this month. On August 12, the Mumbai Police informed the court that it would allow the gathering subject to strict conditions under the Maharashtra Police Act, 1951, including prohibitions on provocative speech, as per Indian Express. Earlier, police had rejected requests citing “law and order concerns” over protests linked to international conflicts.

Calling the High Court order a “huge victory”, veteran journalist P. Sainath, founder-editor of the People’s Archive of Rural India (PARI), reminded the audience that “Palestine is not just a global issue, it’s a super local issue.” According to the report of The Hindu, he also recalled Mahatma Gandhi’s 1938 article in Harijan, where Gandhi wrote: “Palestine belongs to the Arabs in the same sense that England belongs to the English or France belongs to the French.” 

Speakers across parties denounced Israel’s actions as “genocide”, citing the International Criminal Court’s arrest warrants against Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Defence Minister Yoav Gallant for crimes against humanity in Gaza. They also condemned the killings of journalists in Gaza, with references to Reporters Without Borders (RSF) documentation that dozens of Palestinian journalists have been targeted since October 2023.

Congress leader Hussain Dalwai, CPI(M) leaders Vivek Monteiro and Prakash Reddy, activist Feroze Mithiborwala, Samajwadi Party’s Shabana Khan, and cultural figures like actress Swara Bhaskar, theatre personality Dolly Thakore, and writer Beena Elias addressed the crowd. “What is happening in Gaza is not just a political conflict, it is a humanitarian crisis. No child should grow up under bombs, and no journalist should be silenced for telling the truth,” said Rashid Khan, a college professor from Kurla, echoing international human rights language, according to the IE report.

Placards at the protest read: Free Palestine, Stop the Genocide, Babies Are Not Collateral Damage, and India Stands for Peace. One participant carried an effigy of a baby wrapped in white cloth, smeared with red paint to symbolize blood, alongside a sign asking: “What if these children were yours?” Such imagery, participants said, was meant to highlight the humanitarian devastation in Gaza, where over 40,000 Palestinians have been killed since October 2023, according to the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA).

Although the Bombay High Court initially told the petitioners to “look at the challenges in their own country first”, it ultimately recognized the citizens’ constitutional right to peaceful assembly under Article 19(1)(b) of the Indian Constitution, directing police to ensure that the protest could proceed lawfully, according to the report of Bar and Bench.

The demonstration concluded peacefully, with organizers declaring it a united stand against war crimes, forced displacement, and starvation in Gaza, and a call for an immediate ceasefire, lifting of the blockade, and accountability for crimes against civilians and journalists.

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Resignation in Protest: MP woman judge quits over elevation of senior she accused of harassment and discrimination

Protest decision of Union Government to Scrap 11% Import Duty on Raw Cotton: AIKS

The post Azad Maidan Rises for Gaza: Citizens, parties, artists unite after Bombay HC greenlight appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The resignation comes a day after the union government, on July 29, 2025, notified Gupta’s appointment as a judge of the Madhya Pradesh High Court for a two-year term. This appointment was made despite Sharma’s formal representations to the Supreme Court Collegium, the President of India, the Ministry of Law and Justice, and the Chief Justice of the MP High Court, opposing his elevation. Sharma had submitted that Gupta had subjected her to continued humiliation, discrimination, and casteist behaviour when he was her administrative superior.

A resignation letter that reads like an indictment

In her resignation, accessed and reported by The Print, Sharma declared she was resigning with the “ache of betrayal — not at the hands of a criminal or an accused, but at the hands of the very system I swore to serve.” She described being subjected to “unrelenting harassment, not merely of the body or the mind, but of my dignity, my voice, and my very existence as a woman judge who dared to speak up.”

Rejecting the notion that her resignation was an act of personal defeat, Sharma wrote, as reported by Hindustan Times, “I am resigning from judicial service, not because I failed the institution, but because the institution has failed me.” Her words were not just personal; they carried an institutional warning: “Let this letter haunt the files it enters. Let it whisper in the hallways where silence once reigned.”

Allegations ignored, harassment unchecked

Sharma’s allegations were not anonymous, nor unsupported. As The Print and Hindustan Times both confirm, she made detailed and documented complaints against Gupta—including incidents of public humiliation, caste-based insults, and interference in her professional assessments. She alleged that Gupta and his wife not only demeaned her, but also sought to control her social interactions, particularly objecting to her friendship with their daughter.

In her petition before the Supreme Court, filed earlier this year, Sharma accused Gupta of abusing his administrative position to downgrade her performance ratings and creating a hostile work environment during her tenure as a trainee judge. The harassment, she claimed, extended to personal insults and attempts to damage her reputation.

Yet, despite multiple representations, Sharma states there was no inquiry, no notice, no opportunity to be heard—a complete abandonment of even the most basic tenets of natural justice. “The same judiciary that sermonizes about transparency from the bench failed to even follow the basic tenets of natural justice within its own halls,” her letter reads, as per The Print.

A troubling elevation amid allegations

Notably, Gupta’s elevation had previously been blocked by the Supreme Court Collegium in 2023, headed by then CJI D.Y. Chandrachud, after it received Sharma’s and other complaints. The file was returned to the Madhya Pradesh High Court for further inquiry. However, after what appears to be a perfunctory probe, where Sharma was never even called to testify, according to The Print, Gupta was given a clean chit and his name re-sent for reconsideration in April 2025.

ThePrint also reported that Gupta faced multiple complaints from other judicial officers, including a Dalit judge who accused him of casteist harassment, and another senior judge who alleged intimidation and derogatory remarks about High Court judges. None of these complaints, Sharma notes in her resignation, were adequately investigated.

Supreme Court had earlier reinstated Sharma

In February 2025, Sharma won a significant legal victory when the Supreme Court set aside her 2023 dismissal, calling it “punitive, arbitrary and illegal.” A bench led by Justice B.V. Nagarathna noted that her appraisal had ignored critical factors, including a miscarriage and long COVID-related complications. The judgment emphasised institutional responsibility in supporting women judges, particularly during health crises or maternity.

Yet even after her reinstatement, Sharma said she continued to face subtle retaliation, including an “advisory” from the HC to mend her behaviour. Her attempts to convert her earlier complaint into a formal grievance were met with silence.

A system that rewards power, not truth

Throughout her letter, Sharma reiterates that her protest is not about revenge, but about accountability. “. Shri Rajesh Kumar Gupta who orchestrated my suffering was not questioned – was rewarded. Recommended. Elevated. Given a pedestal instead of a summons. Shri Rajesh Kumar Gupta the man I accused not lightly, not anonymously, but with documented facts and the raw courage only a wounded woman can Summon was not even asked to explain. No inquiry. No notice. No hearing. No accountability—is now titled Justice, a cruel joke upon the very word,” she wrote, as per ThePrint.

In a scathing indictment of the collegium system, she warned that rewarding impunity sends a chilling message to other whistleblowers within the judiciary. “In that silence, I saw the brutal truth of our times that integrity is optional, power is protection, and those who speak the truth are punished more severely than those who violate it,” she wrote. “The same institution that teaches equality before law handpicked power over truth.”

Senior Advocate Indira Jaising: A structural betrayal

Senior Advocate Indira Jaising, who represented Sharma in her SC challenge against dismissal, told ThePrint: that this is not the first time she was dealing with a case where a woman judge has been forced to resign. She added: “As she said, ‘the judiciary’s daughters’ have been let down by the judiciary itself. I agree. There is something very wrong with the process of appointing judges of the high court behind closed doors. Surprisingly, the judiciary and the government are on the same page”

Jaising argued that closed-door appointments without adequate scrutiny of complaints were symptomatic of institutional decay. She said, “We lost a very good judicial officer with an unblemished record of service. She won in the judicial side but lost on the administrative side.”

A call for institutional introspection

Sharma’s resignation is not merely a personal exit—it is a formal indictment of the judiciary’s failure to uphold its own principles. She closes her letter with piercing words:

“I leave now, with wounds that no reinstatement, no compensation, no apology will ever heal—but also with my truth intact. Let this letter haunt the files it enters. Let it whisper in the hallways where silence once reigned. Let it live longer than the reputations hastily protected, and the wrongs quietly buried. 

I sign off not as an officer of the court, but as a victim of its silence. 

Where were the rules then? Where was the revered transparency then? 

You refused to protect one of your own. 

You refused to uphold the principles you preach. 

You refused to be just where it mattered the most. 

And if this does not shake your conscience, then perhaps the rot runs deeper than we dare admit.

I leave this institution with no medals, no celebration, and no bitterness—only the bitter truth that the judiciary failed me. But worse—it failed itself. 

This letter of resignation is not closure. It is a statement of protest. Let it remain in your archives as a reminder that there once was a woman judge in Madhya Pradesh who gave her all to justice, and was broken by the system that preached it the loudest. 

And if even one judge, one registrar, one member of the Collegium reads this and feels unease then perhaps, my voice has done more justice than my robe ever could.”

Her act—bold, painful, and unflinchingly honest—now stands as a testament to how women in the judiciary are treated. It raises deeply troubling questions about the integrity of appointments, the erasure of women’s voices in power structures, and the danger of silencing dissent through procedural opacity.

Related:

Beed to Delhi: Lawyer beaten in Maharashtra, judge threatened in Delhi—what the path for justice means for women practioners in today’s India

When Courts Fail Survivors: How patriarchy shapes justice in sexual offence against women cases

Surviving Communal Wrath: Women who have defied the silence, demanded accountability from the state

‘We are considered servants, not humans’: Women of Jai Bhim Nagar reveal the violence of domestic work

The post Resignation in Protest: MP woman judge quits over elevation of senior she accused of harassment and discrimination appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The leaders also denounced the Hindu right-wing Bajrang Dal’s “coercive role” in the arrest of Sister Vandana Francis and Sister Preeta Mary of the order of the Assisi Sisters of Mary Immaculate. Both nuns, Preeti Mary and Vandana Francis, and Sukaman Mandavi from Narayanpur were arrested on Friday, July 25 after a local Bajrang Dal member, Ravi Nigam, filed a complaint with the police, saying that Mr. Mandavi had brought three women to the Durg railway station, from where they had to go to Agra with the two nuns.

Meanwhile, the Hindu reported that the Union Minister of State for Minority Affairs George Kurian said that the matter was sub judice and he was therefore not hazarding an opinion until the court processed the nuns’ arrest. He stated that BJP’s Kerala president Rajeev Chandrasekhar was “working closely with the Central and Chhattisgarh governments, as well as the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of India, to secure the early release of the nuns.”

Even as Kerala Chief Minister Pinarayi Vijayan wrote a strong letter to Prime Minister Narendra Modi demanding justice for the “unfairly incarcerated” nuns, a delegation of left leaders led by leaders like Brinda Karat and Annie Raja has left for Chhattisgarh on the matter. Leader of the Opposition V.D. Satheesan also stated the attacks against Christians in BJP ruled States had multiplied after Prime Minister Narendra Modi came to power at the Centre. Kerala Pradesh Congress Committee president Sunny Joseph, MLA, said Christians in the BJP-ruled States lived in fear of persecution.

A delegation of Left MPs led by senior Left leaders like
@BrindaKarat and @AnnieRaja are leaving for Chhattisgarh. Our struggle for democracy and secularism shall continue, inside and out of the Parliament. pic.twitter.com/dLVZxk0T3l

— A A Rahim (@AARahimdyfi) July 29, 2025

Nuns are “innocent”, say family members of tribal women

Even as the arrest of the Keralite nuns in Chhattisgarh made national headlines, siblings of the purported victims reject allegations of trafficking and forcible conversion; they say the tribal women were accompanying the nuns to Agra for a job with the consent of family members. However BJP’s Chhattisgarh Chief Minister has defended the arrest.

Only days after the Chhattisgarh Police arrested three persons, including two Keralite nuns, on charges of trafficking and forcibly converting a few tribal women, the latter’s family members have denied the police claim. Family members clearly stated that the women accompanied the nuns and a man from Narayanpur of their own volition, and that they are innocent.

However, Chief Minister Vishnu Deo Sai, on Monday (July 28, 2025), backed the arrests, saying that “through inducement, an attempt was being made [by the arrested persons] to engage in human trafficking and conversion”.

‘They are being framed’

The younger sister of another woman who was in Narayanpur also demanded the release of the nuns and said her sister left home on July 24, and that the family had converted to Christianity five years ago. Besides, post the arrests, all three families gave a written submission to the Narayanpur Police on July 26 saying that they were aware that the women were being taken for jobs, said Narayanpur Superintendent of Police Robinson Guria.

Related:

Targeted by Mob, Arrested without Cause: Two Catholic nuns jailed in Chhattisgarh despite consent documents and no evidence of conversion

The post As protests intensify in Kerala over arrests of nuns, family members of Adivasi women say nuns are innocent, left national leadership to visit Chhattisgarh appeared first on SabrangIndia.

• In Thane, Parbhani, and Kolhapur, opposition parties, including the Maharashtra Congress, and civil rights groups are rallying against the newly passed Maharashtra Public Safety Act (MSPS)—a sweeping law that criminalises democratic dissent.

जनसुरक्षा कायद्याला कडाडून विरोध करण्यासाठी कोल्हापूर जिल्हाध्यक्ष श्री.सतेजजी पाटील यांच्या उपस्थितीत आज कोल्हापूर जिल्हा व शहर काँग्रेसच्या वतीने काँग्रेसच्या कार्यालयाबाहेर जनसुरक्षा कायद्याची होळी करून संविधानिक मार्गाने काम करणाऱ्या विरोधी पक्ष संघटना, शिव- शाहू- फुले-… pic.twitter.com/Z8hz5JEODR

— Maharashtra Congress (@INCMaharashtra) July 21, 2025

परभणी जिल्हा व शहर काँग्रेसच्यावतीने परभणीतील डॉ. बाबासाहेब आंबेडकर यांच्या पुतळ्याजवळ जनसुरक्षा कायद्याला कडाडून विरोध करण्यासाठी संविधानिक मार्गाने काम करणाऱ्या विरोधी पक्ष संघटना, शिव- शाहू- फुले- आंबेडकरवादी संघटना, पुरोगामी, शेतकरी कामगार संघटना यांना संपवणाऱ्या आणि… pic.twitter.com/AG6GSGSzjT

— Maharashtra Congress (@INCMaharashtra) July 21, 2025

• In Chhatrapati Sambhaji Nagar and Nanded, members of the Qureshi Muslim community have initiated a state-wide boycott of the cattle trade in protest against a decade of mob lynching, police harassment, and what they call a campaign of “economic strangulation.”
• And on the shores of Sassoon Dock in Mumbai, the Koli fishing community is resisting sudden evictions despite years of assurances, demanding protection of their ancestral rights and the right to the sea.

Together, these protests tell a larger story: of how state power, legal instruments, and vigilante violence are reshaping the rights, identities, and futures of working-class and marginalised communities across Maharashtra.

• The Public Safety Act: A law to silence the people

When the Maharashtra Special Public Security (MSPS) Bill, 2024 was passed by the Maharashtra legislature in June 2025, the government claimed it was a necessary measure to combat “urban Naxalism” and protect public order. But opposition parties, constitutional scholars, and over 12,500 citizens who submitted objections to the Joint Select Committee saw the law for what it is: a legal instrument to suppress protest, stifle opposition, and criminalise constitutional expression.

The law allows the state to declare any activity or organisation “unlawful” if it is seen to disturb “public order” or interfere with “established institutions.” But these terms are undefined, vague, and dangerously expansive. Jan Suraksha Vidheyak Virodhi Sangharsh Samiti approached the Governor of Maharashtra on July 16, 2025 and submitted a memorandum against the said Bill.

The memorandum stated that “The Sangharsh Samiti has strongly opposed the Jan Suraksha Bill (Bill No. XXXIII of 2024), as the Bill is a direct assault on the democratic and fundamental rights of the citizens of the State.  We believe that in the name of curbing Naxalism, due to its vague formulation, the Act is likely to be misused against common citizens, social activists and organisations who legitimately raise their voice against unjust government policies and actions.  The stifling of any form of opposition and dissent, is antithetical to the democratic frame of our Constitution. A more detailed note outlining our major objections to the Bill, is attached herewith.”

The additional memorandum submitted to the Governor on July 22, 2025 highlighting that Section 2(f), which defines unlawful activity argued that the state definition is so wide it could criminalise rasta rokos, satyagrahas, pamphleteering, or even social media posts.

The additional memorandum to the Governor provided that “The definition of “unlawful activity” is too broad and all-encompassing.  While the Chief Minister has repeatedly stated that morchas, andolans, and other democratic forms of protest will not be disallowed, the fact is that the definition of “unlawful activity” as defined in Sec 2 (f) of the Act is so broad that morchas, andolans etc. fall squarely within the said definition. It is necessary that the assurances in this regard as given on the floor of the House, must be translated into black and white on paper.”

Under Section 5, the Advisory Board, originally meant to serve as a constitutional check, has also been structurally weakened. Under amendments introduced by the Joint Select Committee, the Board may now include retired district judges and government advocates, compromising its independence.

Opposition erupted state-wide:

• In Parbhani, Congress leaders gathered at the Ambedkar statue to burn copies of the Bill and denounce it as an attack on Ambedkarite and Phule-Shahu ideals.
• In Kolhapur, 2,000 people blocked a police contingent and set fire to symbolic effigies of the law, calling it “black inside and out.”
• In Thane, a major public meeting on July 27 brought together journalist Kumar Ketkar, Rajya Sabha MP Sanjay Raut, former minister Jitendra Awhad, and retired judge Abhay Thipse, all calling for the repeal of the Act.

As reported by The Week, Congress state president Harshvardhan Sapkal, in a widely covered press conference at Gandhi Bhavan, alleged that the law was designed not to curb extremism but to protect industrialists grabbing land in Dharavi, or extracting mineral wealth from Surjagad in Gadchiroli.

“This law is draconian inside and out and is meant to suppress the common people… The only beneficiaries will be the government and the industrialists who support it — the ones who have grabbed land in Dharavi, looted mineral resources in Surjagad (Gadchiroli), and want red-carpet access to the Shaktipeeth highway corridor.”

The Governor is yet to grant assent, and civil society groups continue to demand that the Bill be returned to the Assembly under Article 200 of the Constitution. More such protests are planned in Maharashtra. On July 27, 2025 there is a protest meeting in Thane that will be addressed among others by former judge, Abhay Thipsay.

• The Qureshi Community’s economic boycott against mob violence

On July 1, 2025, a quiet revolution began in Chhatrapati Sambhaji Nagar. Members of the Qureshi Muslim community, who are traditionally involved in buffalo meat and cattle trade, announced they were ceasing all commercial activity indefinitely.

The reason? A decade of mob lynchings, extortion, and police collusion under the pretext of gau Raksha (cow protection). Haji Aslam Sultan Qureshi, president of the Maharashtra Jamat ul Quresh, spoke with Hindustan Times and stated that “We are legal traders, but gau rakshaks beat us, loot our vehicles, and often kill with impunity. Even when we transport buffaloes, which are legal, they attack us. And the police help them.”

The community cites multiple fatal cases:

• Rafeeq Tamboli, beaten to death in 2021;
• Affan Ansari, killed in 2024;
• Seven deaths in Washim district alone, the report provided, as per local community leader Nabi Qureshi.

Over time, slaughterhouses in many districts have been shut down or denied veterinary certification, making legal slaughter impossible. As per a report of The Wire, in Nanded, there are no functioning taluka-level veterinary officers. As a result, butchers are forced to slaughter in homes, illegal under the law, making them further vulnerable to FIRs and raids. “We are being pushed into illegality by design,” said a butcher from Parbhani, according to The Wire report, “then arrested for surviving.”

On July 15, the HT report provided, a Qureshi delegation met Minister of State for Home Yogesh Kadam and DGP Rashmi Shukla, demanding a written assurance of protection. Kadam refused, offering only oral promises.

Meanwhile, according to the report of The Wire, the government’s official position hardened. On July 14, Minister Pankaj Bhoyar announced:

• A new law to combat beef smuggling;
• Withdrawal of all cases against gau rakshaks;
• Possible invocation of the Maharashtra Control of Organised Crime Act (MCOCA) against cattle transporters.

The report of The Wire provides that activists like Juned Atar have documented how vigilante groups coordinate across districts, sending tip-offs when cattle transport begins and ambushing vehicles with police support. “The state is now weaponising bureaucracy against us,” said Kaizer Patel, AIMIM lawyer, who estimates that ₹300 crore worth of trade has been halted state-wide. “The real victims are the poor—Qureshis, farmers, drivers, meat vendors, and even the hotel industry.”

• Sassoon Dock Standoff and the Fight for Coastal Rights

The third protest front opened in Mumbai—on the land and waters of Sassoon Dock, a historic fishing port that sustains tens of thousands of Koli fisherfolk, warehouse operators, ice vendors, and boatmen.

On July 23, a team from the Mumbai Port Authority (MbPA) arrived with police support to evict godown operators on the basis of a 2014 Supreme Court ruling. The MbPA claims the godown operators are unauthorised sub-lessees and that the original leaseholder is the Maharashtra Fisheries Development Corporation (MFDC).

But, as reported by Hindustan Times, the Koli community sees this eviction as a betrayal of past assurances. In a 2015 ministerial meeting at Vidhan Bhavan, Nitin Gadkari and Eknath Khadse had assured that:

• Ready Reckoner rent rates would not apply, and
• No eviction would be carried out without consultation.

“If MbPA claims otherwise, they should give us that in writing,” said Krishna Pawle, president of Shiv Bharatiya Port Sena, reported Hindustan Times. 

“Today they’re coming for the warehouses. Tomorrow, they’ll come for our boats,” warned Bhaskar Tandel, former chair of the Machimaar Sarvoday Society, while speaking with HT, “We have been here longer than the Port Authority itself.”

The eviction was stalled by a mass protest of over 2,000 people, and Koli leaders have warned that 20,000 will occupy Sassoon Dock if the eviction continues after the seasonal fishing ban ends on August 1.

For the Koli community, this is about more than tenancy. It is about ancestral claims, survival, and identity in a rapidly gentrifying Mumbai.

Conclusion: Criminalisation as policy, resistance as survival

In all three protests, a clear pattern emerges:

• Legal frameworks—whether the MSPS Act, cow protection laws, or tenancy regulations—are being used to delegitimise, displace, or detain.
• Marginalised communities—Muslims, Tribals, Bahujans, and traditional coastal dwellers—are increasingly forced into protest just to survive.
• And when they protest, they are labelled as Naxals, smugglers, or encroachers.

These protests are not merely political reactions. They are defences of constitutional existence, carried out in courtrooms, streets, markets, docks, and under statues of Ambedkar and Shivaji. In Maharashtra today, protest is not dissent. It is self-defence.

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Maharashtra Rises in Protest: State-wide agitation against draconian Maharashtra Public Safety Bill on April 22

The post From villages to docks, Maharashtra rises against a weaponised law, eviction & vigilante violence appeared first on SabrangIndia.

A heavy police deployment, including the Rapid Action Force, continues to maintain vigil across sensitive areas, particularly in and around Jangipur town, where the worst of the violence unfolded on April 8. Authorities have also intensified patrolling and naka-checking to prevent further unrest.

How the violence unfolded

The violence erupted on the afternoon of April 8, 2025, in Omarpur, under Raghunathganj police limits, when hundreds of protesters blocked National Highway-12 (NH-12) demanding a rollback of the Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025. Clashes began after police attempted to disperse the crowd, leading to widespread stone-pelting and arson. At least five police vehicles were vandalised—two of which were set ablaze—and a firearm was reportedly snatched from a policeman.

According to official reports, nine people, including four police personnel, were injured in the violence. The mob allegedly shattered windows of vehicles and ransacked shops and houses near the protest site. Protesters refused to clear the highway despite repeated police warnings. In response, police resorted to lathi-charges and tear gas to disperse the crowd and regain control.

Government measures and public safety

In response to the unrest, Murshidabad District Magistrate Rajarshi Mitra passed an executive order imposing restrictions under Section 163 BNSS, prohibiting gatherings of five or more people in areas where there is a perceived threat to public order. State Home Secretary Nandini Chakraborty later issued an order suspending internet services in the entire Jangipur region until April 11 to prevent the spread of misinformation and communal tension.

Superintendent of Police Ananda Roy, who visited the violence-hit areas, confirmed detentions and ongoing operations to identify more suspects. “Some policemen were injured, including a deputy superintendent. Legal proceedings will follow against those involved in the violence and rumour-mongering,” he said, as per Hindustan Times.

Political fallout and divided reactions

The incident has sparked sharp political reactions. West Bengal Governor C V Ananda Bose condemned the violence and urged the state government to take “bold action” against those disturbing law and order. “Attempts to disturb public peace must be crushed with an iron hand,” he said, as per Times of India.

The opposition BJP was quick to blame the Mamata Banerjee-led state government for “minority appeasement” and deteriorating law and order. BJP state president Sukanta Majumdar claimed “violent Islamist mobs” were behind the riots and accused the administration of suppressing the truth by suspending internet services. He further alleged that Hindus were being targeted under the garb of protests.

Congress leader Adhir Ranjan Chowdhury held both the BJP and TMC responsible, accusing them of politicising the issue for communal gain. He criticised the police for their excessive force and demanded a more sensitive approach in a region where over 70 percent of the population is Muslim. Chowdhury warned against stoking further unrest in Murshidabad’s communally fragile landscape.

In contrast, Siddiqullah Chowdhury, a senior TMC leader and state minister, criticised the police crackdown. “Even during the Left rule, police never baton-charged minorities. If there was violence, action must be taken against the guilty. But lathi-charging an entire rally is unacceptable,” he said.

The Waqf (Amendment) Act and its wider impact

The Waqf (Amendment) Act, 2025—passed by the Lok Sabha and the Rajya Sabha after extended debates and signed into law by President Droupadi Murmu—officially came into effect on April 8. The law aims to allegedly modernise the governance of Waqf properties by enhancing transparency, ensuring better coordination between Waqf boards and local authorities, and safeguarding heritage assets.

However, it has been met with opposition from several Muslim organisations and political parties, who argue that the new provisions, especially the inclusion of non-Muslim members in Waqf boards, amount to undue interference in religious affairs. The opposition has labelled the law “anti-democratic” and accused the union of undermining the rights of religious minorities.

The Murshidabad incident is the most violent among a string of protests that have taken place in West Bengal and other states like Tamil Nadu. As per a report of Mint, BJP leaders circulated unverified videos allegedly showing protesters rejecting the Indian Constitution—claims that have been strongly contested by local groups.

Conclusion: Calm returns, but tensions linger

As of April 9, the police report that normalcy has been restored, with traffic on NH-12 resuming and no further incidents reported. However, prohibitory orders and internet restrictions continue to ensure preventive security. Authorities have promised strict legal action against those who instigated violence and against anyone spreading misinformation online.

The political and communal overtones of the protest continue to reverberate across West Bengal, revealing the deep polarisation around religious legislation. While the law has been enacted, the resistance to it—and the state’s handling of dissent—signals that tensions are far from resolved in Murshidabad and beyond.

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