By Sujit Bhar
Oppression and suffering have, through the ages, resulted in public protests, even sometimes leading to insurrection. Protests have often in history been violent, but as civil society matured and developed, such protests have been used as powerful symbolisms, a just and peaceful way to put one’s point across.
Legal procedures, too, evolved alongside, slowly recognising the fact that a protest can potentially be a human right, possibly a fundamental right. Laws changed to accommodate peaceful protests as a part of civil society and, with certain conditions in place, they were made legal across the democratic world.
The evolution of public protests has been anything but peaceful, though, being rechristened as mutinies and revolts. Starting somewhere around the 1381 Peasants’ Revolt, one of the great revolts of medieval Europe, protesting the poll tax, boiling over to the French Revolution (1778-1799), through which liberté, égalité, fraternité (liberty, equality, fraternity) became universal ideals, protests were always a method for the commoner to reach the ears of the mighty, sometimes resulting in violent uprisings, as in France.
Indians have been subjected to violence despite protests having been peaceful. The Jallianwala Bagh massacre of April 13, 1919, is a prime example, where a peaceful crowd in Amritsar, protesting the Rowlatt Act, was fired upon unprovoked, killing over a thousand. Mahatma Gandhi taught the world the power of peaceful protests and the movement travelled across the globe. This has remained one of the greatest symbolisms of democracy and of humanity, a method that remains unparalleled in any country.
In the 1950s and 60s African-Americans in several US states, still deprived of basic civil rights, started their struggle. That led to similar struggles as far away as in Northern Ireland and apartheid South Africa, with Nelson Mandela becoming the flag bearer.
Through the ages, protests have become more civil and peaceful, yet more powerful. The right to protest peacefully became a natural and almost a fundamental right across nations. In India, sit-in demonstrations, when peaceful, are an eminently acceptable process today and ticks all the right boxes in a democratic set-up. Within that there are laws, and the sanctity of the word “peaceful” needs to be observed. Still, governments earmark areas within public domains as “sensitive” and as special security zones, where such protests are banned. Within that, exists this story.
The Kolkata Conundrum
A recent peaceful sit-in demonstration in front of Kolkata’s Raj Bhavan, led by Trinamool Congress supremo and West Bengal Chief Minister Mamata Banerjee’s nephew Abhishek Banerjee, might have seemed legit. The demonstrators were protesting against purported partiality shown by the central government in not releasing the 100-day work pay as per the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act of 2005.
However, two critical issues had come into play immediately, and the Calcutta High Court is seized of them. The first is that the entire area around Raj Bhavan, the West Bengal governor’s residence and office, is deemed a sensitive security zone and Section 144 of the Criminal Procedure Code is permanently imposed here. How was it, then, that a large collection of demonstrators, led by Abhishek, who is also the Trinamool Congress’ All-India general secretary, allowed by the Kolkata Police?
The second issue that emanates from the first is a demand by casual workers of the labour department of the state—they want permanency and benefits—to sit in a similar protest before the new secretariat of the state, Nabanna. That is also an area under Section 144. The police refused permission, so the issue has gone to court.
If one talks of rights, then the casual workers have a point: they are following a precedent. The issue can snowball into a major controversy, but the legal point is clear and the police become answerable in this. And with Kolkata Police only a subordinate arm of the state government, the government itself becomes answerable as to how it—the party that rules, at least—disregarded its own rule.
It is a different matter that the demand charter of Abhishek and the Trinamool Congress was finally taken to the centre by Governor CV Ananda Bose and Abhishek called off his protest with a threat that he will be back if things are not solved. The centre has delayed payment in the face of allegations of mass impropriety with funds already paid by it to the state government.
What the Court probably wants to look into is the legality of either demand—to sit in protest—by the labourers, as well as their political masters. Justice Joy Sengupta of the Calcutta High Court has been asking some pretty tough questions of State Advocate General SN Mookherjee. The judge wants to know why, if protests were allowed in front of Raj Bhavan, such protests cannot be allowed before Nabanna.
One rule cannot have different interpretations for two sections of people, and the final verdict of the Court can have multiple and far reaching consequences. The matter has gone to a division bench of the Court.
The Jantar Mantar example
What immediately comes to mind is India’s most prominent protest site, Jantar Mantar in New Delhi. In 2017 the National Green Tribunal had clamped a blanket ban on protests at that place, citing environmental (noise pollution) issues.
The issue had gone to court, and in July 2018, the Supreme Court returned to the people of Delhi and the country their traditional protest site, with even the Boat Club as a bonus. The Supreme Court struck down the ban on demonstrations at the historic observatory imposed by the NGT.
The Court had reiterated that people had a “fundamental right to demonstrate peacefully”. Massive Boat Club rallies were common in the turbulent 1980s and those had become almost extinct with such bans. The apex court, however, kept rallies out of bounds at those areas, but allowed protests in accordance with guidelines. The guidelines included restrictive and limited use of the venues with provisions for regulating the number of persons, prescribing a minimum distance from Parliament House, North and South Blocks, the Supreme Court and residences of dignitaries where no demonstrations will be allowed. That was completely fair, because such sit-in protests in any democracy are basically strong symbolisms and a source of the spread of common programmes that, even today, exist over and above modern social media platform reaches.
Article 19 of the Constitution gives Indians the Right to Freedom of Assembly and says that individuals have the freedom to peacefully congregate in order to question and object to government actions through demonstrations, agitations, and public assemblies, as well as to form long-term protest movements.
The law, however, has not always been kind to the protesters. Latching onto key words in such verdicts—words such as “peaceful”—the police have often acted beyond the call of duty. Early this year, Delhi was the site of a troublesome protest “dharna”, where international medal-winning wrestlers of the country, especially some of India’s star women wrestlers, sat down, protesting against abusive and sexually exploitative tactics employed by Wrestling Federation of India President Brij Bhushan Sharan Singh. Initially, Singh, who is also an MP, had refused to acknowledge the protesting wrestlers’ point neither did Delhi Police. It was only later that things were sorted out.
However, in May this year, Delhi Police said it was forced to remove the protesting wrestlers from Jantar Mantar after they violated the law “in a frenzy” despite repeated requests. That is how officials twist the definition of “peaceful” to suit their ends.
One awaits the Calcutta High Court verdict on this, because that can act as a template for many more protests, peaceful or otherwise, across the country. That can offer a safe haven for a logical expression of grief and anger for the common man, without fear of reprisal.