The space for dissent in India is shrinking. In theory, the country is a liberal democracy with freedom of expression. In practice, it has become a place where the production of unorthodox or unusual ideas is rapidly declining. The result is a climate of fear and self-censorship.
The latest development has shocked Indian liberals and defenders of intellectual freedom. It is not some crude propagandistic pamphlet that has been banned, but a serious academic work. The Hindus: An Alternative History by Wendy Doniger highlights the importance of women and of the lowest castes in Hinduism.
Four years ago, when it was published, an unknown right-wing Hindu group filed a petition in the courts against Penguin India, the publisher. The group’s charge was that Ms Doniger was “disrespectful”, had an overly “sexual approach” to Hinduism, and was guilty of a “Christian conspiracy” to denigrate Hinduism.
Earlier this week, Penguin India decided to settle out of court by agreeing to the group’s demand to remove the book from stores and pulp the remaining copies.
The novelist Arundhati Roy, who has also been published by Penguin, demanded an explanation from the publisher, asking: “Have you forgotten who you are? You are part of one of the oldest, grandest publishing houses in the world ... You have published some of the greatest writers in history. You have stood by them and fought for free speech against the most violent and terrifying odds. And now, even though there is no fatwa, no ban, not even a court order, you have not only caved in, you have humiliated yourself abjectly before a fly-by-night outfit by signing a settlement. Why?”
Penguin’s climbdown is dismaying on many levels.
Are publishers now succumbing without even going to the highest court in the land? Have they decided that, in a country with such volatile religious passions, it just isn’t worth defending freedom of speech? Perhaps most upsetting is that in a conflict between the intellectual and small-mindedness, the latter won.
When other books have been banned, one striking feature in each case has been the failure of the respective state government to display the determination to stand up for the principle of freedom of expression. This cowardice has left the field clear for the mob to run amok.
In another example, the country’s most famous artist, MF Husain, known as “Índia’s Picasso’’, was hounded so mercilessly by extremist Hindus in his old age that in the end he was forced into exile. New Delhi did nothing to help or protect Husain.
Cultural bullies and tyrants have noted this cowardice and it has emboldened them.
Hindu activists have pledged to purge bookshops and schools of any publication they deem to be abusive to their faith.
The hardline Hindu group Vishwa Hindu Parishad has said it will wage war against each and every artist or author it deems to be guilty of abuse. This has produced a culture where people are constantly offended by something or another. For these cultural policemen, the notion of freedom of expression is absolutely meaningless.
One problem is that Indian politicians do not really value intellectual freedom. For most of them, it is merely an abstraction that they pay occasional respect to rather than something that is lived and upheld.
I am appalled at Penguin’s surrender, but I do not see anything changing. The attacks on freedom of expression might even get worse.
Provocative works will trigger an explosion of anger and hurt in India. What’s worse is that, these days, these explosions are never confined to isolated individuals because there are plenty of organisations whose raison d’être is to exploit controversies to further their political goals.
So I fear that India is going to continue to struggle with freedom of speech, lurching from a banning here and a burning there. The casualty will be its intellectual growth and reason. When unpopular, unusual, or unorthodox ideas cannot be discussed, a country stagnates.
Amrit Dhillon is a freelance journalist based in New Delhi
