In the end, Salman Rushdie could not even speak over video-link from London to the crowds that had assembled to hear him at the Jaipur Literature Festival. The festival’s organisers, visibly overwrought, said the Rajasthan police — while supportive — had warned that angry protestors were marching towards the festival, and in some cases were already inside. Rushdie had already been warned not to come to Jaipur, following threats to his life issued allegedly by militant groups. These incidents cannot be seen in isolation, for they come at the end of a disturbing series of events. Rage at James Laine’s scholarly biography of Shivaji led to the sacking of an historic research institute in Pune where he had worked, and its sale was initially restricted. The man widely regarded as India’s greatest modern painter, M F Husain, became a touchstone for controversy in his last years as his paintings of goddesses attracted extremist ire. An exhibition of Korans in 53 languages by the Ahmadiyya sect in Delhi was called off after angry protests.
It is clear that the threat of disruption of law and order by angry mobs is repeatedly used by those speaking for the “pride” and “sentiment” of religious or ethnic communities to attack the indispensable freedoms of others. In this act they are continually aided by a weak state, which pays too great a mind to community “sentiment” and too little to individual freedom. It is entirely understandable that local authorities would prefer that nothing should disturb the calm of the areas under their control, and thus wind up kowtowing to those who can threaten to unleash mobs. Yet the dangers of this approach are now clear: they lead to competition among “community leaders” to demonstrate their clout.
The first thing that the guardians of the state must realise is that the maintenance of law and order is about more than just keeping the peace. Law and order is an instrument, a means to an end. The end is free expression, entrepreneurship and the chance of a fulfilling, creative, open life for all. That is the basis of what the Indian state should promise, and submitting to competitive threats from the leaders of mobs means that promise will remain unkept. It is meaningless to blame any one functionary or organ for what has become a pathology for the Indian state — and even for Indian liberalism, which has increasingly wed itself to notions of “respect” for community identity. India’s liberals, and the state that claims to be founded on their principles — the principles of Nehru, Azad and Ambedkar — must draw a line in the sand. Thus far and no further. The state must guarantee freedoms, or its promise of law and order means nothing.
