jyoti jagtap

In Criminalising Political Action, Judges Are Helping the State Bring Politics Into India’s Court

I wish they’d recognise the arrests of political prisoners as a systemic pro-establishment political act, and then tell the state – and not the defendants – to not bring politics to the courts.

‘Submissions should be limited to law and not be political.’

This is a common refrain in the courts.

Yet the prosecuting state’s behaviour towards its prisoners has been rather erratic. On the one hand, it is seen to oppose, tooth and nail, the grant of bail to political activists such as Jyoti Jagtap, or Umar Khalid, alleged to have ‘ignited passions’ and provoked violence (in others).

Similarly, the state cried for – and was granted – a Saturday hearing at the Supreme Court, in order to suspend the judgment of the Bombay high court discharging Professor G.N. Saibaba, and to ensure that he is not even temporarily released from jail. It is the state’s allegation that Professor Saibaba deploys his considerable brains towards critiquing the democratically elected government.

On the other hand, the state does not seem at all bothered about actual rioters; or those who have indulged in vitriolic hate speech, and in hate crimes, those who have lynched men, serving time too. The nonchalance with which it granted remission to certain ‘political’ rapists and murderers bears out the arbitrariness in conduct.

How do we begin to think about these inconsistencies?

When I read law at university, I had found a thin volume called An Introduction to Political Philosophy which has held me in good stead since. The book describes politics as centring on two questions: ‘who gets what?’ and ‘says who?’.

The first of these questions is about the distribution of rights and resources: which material resources, like education and health, the environment, minerals, etc. should be deemed ‘public goods’ and belong equally to all people; or should only those who pay income tax have any moral claim to them? At a given point in time, a material resource like public health may be seen as a public good and all citizens may feel entitled to demand it as a right, whereas at another point in political time, it may merely be seen as largesse, distributed conditionally to subjects as per the government’s better judgment.

Beyond material resources, politics also asks the questions: how should rights and freedoms be distributed? Should some people have more freedoms than others? And finally, what would be the basis of such distribution?

Political philosophy holds that ‘who gets what’, and ‘in what measure’ is decided by those who retain political power. Political power sometimes defers to the constitution on the question of ‘who gets what’, and accepts affirmative action, and special rights for protected groups. At other times, it yields only to majoritarian sentiments, or to hard economics.

Politics involves itself with the tussle of power that finally determines how things will come to be distributed.

Charles Dickens wrote Oliver Twist (or The Parish Boy’s Progress) in 1837, where a section describes how the master served extremely meagre portions of food to the boys in the parish orphanage, keeping most of it for himself. In a poignant scene, Oliver Twist, ‘miserable and lonely’, and ‘tired and hungry’ walks up to the master: “Please sir, may I have some more?”

‘The master hit Oliver’s head with the ladle, then pinioned him to the wall and shrieked for reinforcements.’

‘Ungrateful boy!’ he hissed.

The Board was immediately convened. They sat in solemn conclave: “What, he wanted more?”

“What a criminal mind! That boy will be hung”.

Oliver was deemed very dangerous by the Board and ordered into solitary confinement, still quite hungry.

‘The physical incarceration of Oliver Twist, in response to his request for more equitable distribution, was counter-political. ‘

Oliver’s was a political act. But equally, the elaborate response to his demand was deeply political too.

The display of shock and fear at Oliver’s request for a more equitable distribution; his categorisation as an ungrateful criminal; the claim that his behaviour would have a deleterious effect on other impressionable minds; the assertion that his sudden act caused physical discomfort to the master, causing his eyes to pop out and his blood pressure to soar; and finally, the physical incarceration of Oliver were all [counter] political acts.

Politics is thus the consciousness that the powers that be are not fairly distributing rights and resources, and then trying to spread that consciousness through discursive activity and mobilisation. Politics is equally the business of obstructing change, and the freezing of status quo, by dismissing ‘politics of change’ as anarchic, or ‘conflict entrepreneurship’, or anti-national.

There is an instructive paragraph in the order denying bail to Jyoti Jagtap:

‘We have carefully gone through the transcript of the stage play enacted by Kabir Kala Manch members. On reading the same, we are afraid to state that the role played by KKM and its activists on the date of event was not only aggressive, but also highly provocative and clearly designed to incite hatred and ignite passion. There are a number of innuendos in the text/words/performance of KKM which are pointed directly against the democratically elected government, for seeking to overthrow the government, ridicule the government, excerpts of which need to be mentioned here in order to highlight the role of Appellant. These pertain to songs / phrases / questions asked and answers given and performance ridiculing phrases like; “Acche din”, “Gomutra”, “Shakahar”, “the Prime-Minister referred to as an “infant”, “the P.M.’s travelogy”, “RSS dress/outfit”, “Policies like Demonetization”, “Sanatan Dharma”, “Ram Mandir” […]’

The feeling above is reminiscent of the master’s discomfort in Oliver Twist.

It may not appear that way at first blush, but to frame discursive challenges to establishment politics as fraudulent, funded and motivated, are very much political responses, even when they are brought to a court of law in the form of criminal cases.

Also read: Inconsistencies in Bail Orders Mean Individual Liberty Is Now the Outcome of Judicial Lottery

Politics is inherent to the business of life, and to that extent judgments are political too. They either encourage more equitable distribution of material resources and liberties, or freeze status quo. We have the example of so many cases pertaining to apportionment of resources (education and employment in the case of ‘reservations’, or in the case of permanent commission for women in the armed forces).

But quite apart from politics inherent to law, there is a new political language in the courts today. It unselfconsciously criminalises political action.

Borrowing from the ‘Parish Board’ school of thought, the state unabashedly makes arguments that a person should be charged for building a political consciousness that is critical of the status quo; for it causes social fissures that lead to subsequent violence. It is like the Board sending Oliver into confinement for having unduly excited the master. It is the political language of an incarceral state in its treatment of ‘politics of change’. Equally, the state shows a benevolent indifference towards actual incidents of violence that conform to the politics of the day.

In case after case, the primary charge is one of ‘conspiracy to further political propaganda’ – presumably, that something is amiss in terms of equitable distribution of rights and resources – and to mobilise the public, which would result in disturbances.

One would think it is the political duty of citizens to challenge power, if they feel it is getting too centralised. There would be no social fissures, or violence either, if governments in power would cede more space to alternative discourses and allow for political challenge. Dissent and debate are normalised, and happily accommodated in democratic cultures.

On the contrary, acts of public protest are not merely seen as ‘petty violations’ warranting a whack on the head with a ladle but – again in the ‘parish orphanage tradition’ – as something far more apocalyptic, and no less than a terrorist conspiracy to further the idea that everyone is not getting equitable treatment. These are not legal arguments; these are political arguments being made by the best law officers.

The courts often ignore such puerile arguments and grant bail where they can. But I wish they would do more than that: I wish they’d recognise the arrests as a systemic pro-establishment political act, and then tell the state to not bring politics to the courts.

Shahrukh Alam is a Supreme Court advocate.

A version of this article was first published on The India Cable – a premium newsletter from The Wire & Galileo Ideas – and has been republished here. To subscribe to The India Cable, click here.

Inconsistencies in Bail Orders Mean Individual Liberty Is Now the Outcome of Judicial Lottery

The judgments denying bail to Jyoti Jagtap and Umar Khalid – from the Bombay and Delhi high courts respectively – reveal that UAPA adjudication continues to be inconsistent and judge-centric.

In June and October 2021, the Delhi and Bombay high courts had passed two important judgments on bail under the Unlawful Activities Prevention Act (UAPA). The Delhi high court’s judgment(s) granted bail to Asif Iqbal Tanha, Devangana Kalita, and Natasha Narwal, who were accused of various UAPA offences arising out of the February 2020 Delhi riots. The Bombay high court granted bail to Iqbal Ahmed Kabir Ahmed, who was accused of criminal conspiracy involving members of the banned ISIS group.

The significance of these judgments – I had written at the time – lay in how they articulated a “jurisprudence of liberty” within the stringent confines of the UAPA. The high court justices addressed themselves to the fact that section 43(D)(5) of the UAPA – as interpreted in the Supreme Court judgment of Watali – effectively makes the grant of bail impossible, and ensures that people are jailed without trial for years. In response, the courts formulated two principles that would guide judicial determinations of bail under the UAPA. In a post about the Supreme Court’s (similar) judgment in Thawha Faisal’s case, I summarised these principles thus:

Principle 1: The definitional clauses of the UAPA must be given a strict and narrow construction. This was what the Delhi high court did with respect to the meaning of “terrorism” in Asif Iqbal Tanha, what the Bombay high court did with respect to Section 20 of the UAPA in Iqbal Ahmed Kabir Ahmed, and what the Supreme Court has now done in Thwaha Faisal.

Principle 2: The allegations in the chargesheet must be individualised, factual, and particularistic. The gap between what an individual is accused of, and the actual events, cannot be filled by inferences or speculation. This, again, is exhibited excellently in the analysis in the Thwaha Faisal judgment.

At the time, one hoped that these judgments – especially supported by the Supreme Court ruling in Thwaha Faisal – marked the beginnings of a consistent judicial pushback against state and prosecutorial impunity under UAPA. This was not to be.

This week, two other bail judgments – again, from the Bombay and Delhi high courts – reveal that UAPA adjudication continues to be inconsistent and judge-centric, and that individual liberty is, essentially, subject to the outcome of a judicial lottery. Not only is there inconsistency within the same court, but – as we shall see – inconsistency in the pronouncements of the same judge within the same court. Unfortunately, the costs of this inconsistency are measured in weeks, months, and years in jail.

Illustration: The Wire

Jyoti Jagtap and the Bombay high court

In Jyoti Jagtap vs NIA, a division bench of the Bombay high court denied bail to Jyoti Jagtap, a member of the Kabir Kala Manch (KKM) troupe. The case arose out of the violent events around the Elgar Parishad march on December 31, 2017. The prosecution’s case was that Jyoti Jagtap – and the KKM – had made various provocative speeches and performed provocative plays in the days leading up to the Elgar Parishad, and on the day of the event. The Prosecution argued that the KKM’s actions were tied to a larger conspiracy under the aegis of the banned CPI (Maoist), with the goal of overthrowing the State. The Prosecution also relied upon certain witness statements from 2011 (which, of course, had not been subjected to cross-examination at this stage of the proceedings) to the effect that Jyoti Jagtap had been seen in the forest, and in meetings with Naxalites.

In its analysis, the Bombay high court held, first, that the witness statements showed Jyoti Jagtap is an “active member” of the banned CPI (Maoist), by virtue of her presence in meetings with Naxalites, and alleged involvement in arms training; receipts and documents that showed her organisational role in the Elgar Parishad event; and “incitement of hatred and passion” on the day of the event, which showed that KKM was seeking to “overthrow” and “ridicule” the government. Evidence for this “incitement of hatred and passion” – according to the high court – included ridiculing the phrase “acche din”, referring to the prime minister as an “infant”, and “atrocities on Dalits in modern India.”

The High Court then referred to the National Investigative Agency’s account of the internal structure and functioning of the CPI (Maoist), as was recorded in the previous bail order in Hany Babu’s case, and noted that, for these reasons, Jyoti Jagtap’s acts would have to be assessed in the context of the “larger conspiracy” carried out by the CPI (Maoist). The court held:

The documents referred to herein above clearly highlights the active role of Appellant in so far as organising the Elgar Parishad event but more importantly it is the association of Appellant with the prominent members of CPI(M) which is a designated terrorist organisation which cannot be lost sight of. [Emphasis supplied]

Bail was accordingly denied.

Let us briefly recall the second of the two principles that I had set out above: “The allegations in the chargesheet must be individualised, factual, and particularistic. The gap between what an individual is accused of, and the actual events, cannot be filled by inferences or speculation.” The importance of this principle has already been discussed, and we are now in a position to see how the Bombay high court’s bail order evidently violates it. The actual “events” in question involve the violence that occurred in the aftermath of the Elgar Parishad event. Admittedly, Jyoti Jagtap was not accused of any violent act. What she had done – allegedly – was to play a role in the organisation of the event, and to perform on the day. But to link her to the violence – and deny her bail – the following inferences (none of which were demonstrably proven) had to be made:

That the Elgar Parishad event was a CPI (Maoist) conspiracy, and that the violence was the design of the CPI (Maoist).
That Jyoti Jagtap’s prior association with “prominent members” of the CPI (M) – dating back seven years and more – demonstrated her participation in the specific conspiracy set out in point (1). Note that “association” is a very broad term, and indeed, it was for this reason that the Supreme Court in Arup Bhuyan’s case had clarified that, for the purposes of the UAPA, membership meant “active membership”, i.e., incitement to violence; mere attendance at meetings, for example, wouldn’t do. The High Court did not engage with Arup Bhuyan’s judgment.
That the speeches and performances on the day were in furtherance of this “conspiracy”, and caused the violent events that followed.

Indeed, in order to fill in the gaps in the Prosecution’s case through inferences, the Bombay high court resorted to increasingly strained logic: ridiculing the Prime Minister, his catchphrases, and his policies, statements on Shivaji and Tipu Sultan, and on atrocities against Dalits, were all construed as “inciting passion”, and in furtherance of the “larger conspiracy.” The high court was forced to do this, because the actual evidence against Jyoti Jagtap, as we have seen, was negligible; thus, the only way to establish the “prima facie” case against her and deny her bail under the UAPA was for the prosecution and the court to create a set of inferences that would connect her (innocuous) acts, such as playing an organisational role in the event and speaking at it, to the (actual) events – the violence – through the (unproven) vehicle of a “larger conspiracy.”

But it is in the very nature of an accusation of “conspiracy” that silences are damning: absences in the prosecution’s case can be explained away on the assumption that the accused is simply a good conspirator who covered their tracks. This is why judicial scrutiny – and the resistance to filling in the gaps through inferences – becomes particularly important. What is happening here can be illustratively compared to dropping a stone into still water. The stone causes a splash, and ripples emanate from the point of contact. The ripples grow in size but lessen in intensity, until the point at which the calmness of the water is restored.

If we think of the splash as the event in question, the legal standard articulated in the previous high court judgments was that you must at least have a visible ripple that you’re linking back to the splash (i.e., the link between the event and the accused actor cannot be tenuous beyond a certain degree).

What we have in Jyoti Jagtap’s case is someone coming along an hour after the splash, and saying – without demonstrating – that a particular movement on the surface of the water is somehow traceable back to the stone. This is not a sustainable judicial standard.

Bombay high court. Photo: PTI

Umar Khalid and the Delhi high court

In March 2022, the sessions court denied bail to Umar Khalid, in a case arising out of the 2020 Delhi riots. I had written at the time that the court’s order was like being a “stenographer for the prosecution”: the prosecution’s statements were not checked even for internal consistency, gaps were explained away through inferences (this was especially stark, as Khalid was not even in Delhi when the riots took place), vague witness statements were interpreted to the detriment of Khalid, and any aspect of the case that benefited the defence was not considered on the basis that it was a “matter for trial” (the problems with this last approach have been discussed in some detail earlier).

The Delhi high court’s judgment upholding the order of the sessions judge, is – by and large – a replica of that order; interested readers, therefore, can look at the ‘Stenographer for the Prosecution‘ piece for more detailed analysis. Indeed, the court notes that it is in “full agreement with the findings of the Ld Sessions Judge” on the question of appreciation of evidence, and “does not wish to burden this judgment” through reiteration – thus exempting itself from the burden of independent analysis as well.

Be that as it may, there are a few parts of the judgment that deserve to be flagged, as they demonstrate something quite similar to the Bombay high court’s judgment in Jyoti Jagtap: that as the gap between the event and the accused grows larger, the court needs to resort to an increasingly stretched set of inferences in order to fill it.

These inferences begin in paragraph 52. The high court notes that, after the passage of the Citizenship Amendment Bill, (a) a WhatsApp group called the “Muslim Students of JNU” is formed, of which Umar Khalid is a member (emphasis mine); (b) the day after, the United Against Hate group conducts an agitation against the CAA, which Umar Khalid attends (emphasis mine), and – allegedly – supports a call for “chakka jam”; (c) another WhatsApp group called “CAB Team” is formed, of which – again – Umar Khalid is a member (emphasis mine).

The high court concludes that therefore, “a collective reading of the events that unfolded on each day after 04.12.2019 cannot be shrugged aside and it cannot be said that nothing incriminating has been.” (emphasis mine)

Thus, we can once again see the gap between fact (membership of WhatsApp groups and participation in an agitation) and event (riots), a gap that is large enough to drive a coach-and-four through, and this gap is effectively filled by stipulation: the high court says that all of this is incriminating, without an explanation for why it is so. In fact, not only does this gap not seem to bother the high court, but the court appears to positively revel in it. It notes:

It may be reminded that under the UAPA, it is not just the intent to threaten the unity and integrity but the likelihood to threaten the unity and integrity; not just the intent to strike terror but the likelihood to strike terror; not just the use of firearms but the use of any means of whatsoever nature, not just causing but likely to cause not just death but injuries to any person or persons or loss or damage or destruction of property, that constitutes a terrorist act, within the meaning of section 15 of UAPA. Moreover, under section 18 of UAPA, not merely conspiracy to commit a terrorist act but an attempt to commit or advocating the commission or advising it or inciting or directing or knowingly facilitating commission of a terrorist act that is also punishable. In fact, even acts preparatory to commission of terrorist acts are punishable under section 18 of UAPA. Thus, the objection of the appellant that a case is not made-out under UAPA is based on assessing the degree of sufficiency and credibility of evidence not the absence of its existence but the extent of its applicability; but such objection of the appellant is outside the scope and ambit of section 43D(5) of the UAPA. [Emphasis supplied]

Quite apart from the fact that the final sentence is borderline incoherent, the entire reason why the courts exist – and why judicial review exists – is precisely to introduce an element of the rule of law oversight over state action, so that words with boundless scope – such as “likelihood”, “likely to cause”, “of whatsoever nature”, “attempt”, “advocating”, and “preparatory” – are given a clear and precise meaning, and – most importantly – a limit (think of the stone-in-the-water image again).

In its reproduction of these words, however, the high court does the opposite: it uses their fuzzy nature and unclear boundaries as a justification for the inferences that it fills the gap with: in other words, imprecision begets imprecision: in the mind of the court, the vagueness of the legal language justifies the vagueness of the allegations.

Indeed, the entire judgment is shot through with similar vagueness. The high court says that the fact that Umar Khalid’s speech about Donald Trump was delivered despite permission for it being rejected gives “credibility” to the prosecution’s accusation that this same speech “heralded” the Delhi riots. This is a sine qua non to end all sine qua nons: there is no reference to the contents of the speech (for good reason), but the mere fact that the speech was given in defiance of the administration is used by the court as a basis for buttressing the prosecution’s accusation that it was meant to “herald” the riots.

The court also refers to a “flurry of phone calls” between the accused after the riots began; but the only circumstance in which a “flurry of phone calls” after a riot begins becomes suspicious is if you have already decided that the accused were conspirators, and their “flurry of phone calls” was in furtherance of their conspiracy. In all other circumstances, a “flurry of phone calls” between activists in the immediate aftermath of a riot is one of the most natural things imaginable; in fact, it would be silence that would be infinitely more suspicious.

Also Read: UAPA Case Data Suggests That Process Is Indeed the Punishment

Having probably realised that its inferential chain stretches credulity in the extreme, the high court is now forced to look at the actual evidence on record, and make something out of where nothing exists. Thus, the high court seizes upon Umar Khalid’s words – “inquilabi salam” (revolutionary greetings) and “krantikari istiqbal” (revolutionary welcome) – and finds incriminating material there. In a highly confusing passage that cites Robespierre and Nehru, the court says:

“Revolution by itself isn’t always bloodless, which is why it is contradistinctly used with the prefix – a ‘bloodless’ revolution. So, when we use the expression “revolution‟, it is not necessarily bloodless.”

What? Is the court trying to say that henceforth, whenever anyone uses the word “revolution”, they have to preface it with the word “bloodless”, otherwise they will be caught and thrown in jail under the UAPA, and denied bail? The very absurdity of this paragraph should make clear that the high court is clutching at straws here: what it has before it are a set of facts (Umar Khalid’s conduct) that has no conceivable relationship with what actually happened (the Delhi riots); and to establish the relationship, not only does the high court have to construct an elaborate labyrinth of assumptions and inferences, but also put some of our most common political turns of phrase into a torture rack, until they crack and confess to any meaning the court wishes them to confess to.

Concluding its analysis, the court notes the existence of a “pre-meditated conspiracy” to do a chakka jam and incitement to violence, a “pre-planned” attack, Umar Khalid’s membership of WhatsApp groups and speeches, the “flurry of calls”, and Umar Khalid’s active involvement in the protests against the CAA. As with the Jyoti Jagtap bail order, let us identify the assumptions at work, that the court needs to fill in the gaping holes in the prosecution’s case:

That calling for a chakka jam logically entails incitement to violence and riots.
That membership of WhatsApp groups is indicative of participation in a conspiracy.
That a “flurry of calls” after a riot has started – between activists who have been engaged with the issue in question – is indicative of a conspiracy.
That Umar Khalid’s involvement in protests against the CAA is indicative of his participation in a conspiracy to cause riots.

The High Court needs to do all this because – as the evidence showed very clearly – at no point did Umar Khalid call for violence, publicly incite violence, commit violence, or participate in riots. Thus, all we have is membership of WhatsApp groups indicating a vague “association”, a “flurry of calls” that also indicates an “association”, and involvement in protests; the high court weaves this together into a boundlessly flexible mesh called “larger conspiracy”, and tops it off with a dash of Robespierre and Nehru. Thus, an individual who has now been in jail for two years without a trial is condemned to a further – uncertain – spell in prison, while we still wait for the trial to begin.

Delhi high court. Photo: PTI

Post-script: The contradictions of Justice Siddharth Mridul

Before concluding, it is important to flag a final point. The two-judge bench of the Delhi high court that denied bail to Umar Khalid had, as its members, Justices Bhatnagar and Siddharth Mridul. The June 2021 bail judgment in Asif Aqbal Tanha’s case had, as its members, Justices Bhambani and Siddharth Mridul.

Under even the loosest standards of intellectual consistency, it is simply inexplicable how the same learned justice can – without further explanation – be party to two bail judgments that not only arose out of the same set of facts, but took polar opposite approaches to the issue. Let us begin with the most glaring and blatant contradiction: in paragraphs 49-58 in Asif Iqbal Tanha’s judgment, the bench – of which Justice Siddharth Mridul was a member – gives a narrow interpretation to the word “terrorism” under the UAPA, and notes that the prosecution’s argument that the anti-CAA protest was designed to threaten the foundations of the nation is based on “inferences”, and that therefore, there is prima facie no case made out of terrorism, or conspiracy, or the commission of acts “preparatory” to terrorism.

In paragraphs 62-67 of Umar Khalid’s judgment, the bench – of which Justice Siddharth Mridul is also a member – explicitly notes that the anti-CAA protest was not an “ordinary protest”, and then goes on to argue how the protests and the riots were linked, and how it all constitutes a terrorist act.

How can the same judge simultaneously appear to believe both X and not-X?

And if the same judge has changed his mind, and now believes not-X where at one point he so firmly believed X that he signed a judgment to that effect, are we not owed the courtesy of an explanation? Walt Whitman might claim the luxury of contradicting himself because he contains multitudes, but it is not open for a high court judge to contain contradictory multitudes, at least not while he sits in his official capacity.

Similarly, in paragraph 35 of the Natasha Narwal order (which accompanied the Asif Iqbal Tanha order), the high court bench – of which Justice Siddharth Mridul was a member – noted that “we can discern no specific or particularised allegation, much less any material to bear out the allegation, that the appellant incited violence, what to talk of committing a terrorist act or a conspiracy or act preparatory to the commission of a terrorist act.”

In the Umar Khalid judgment, as we have seen, the bench – of which Justice Siddharth Mridul is also a member – dispenses with the need for any “specific or particularised” allegation at all, going – instead – by membership of WhatsApp groups and “inquilabi salam” to justify the denial of bail. Once again, the two approaches to the issue are simply irreconcilable.

It is one thing to have a polyvocal court that speaks different tongues (although that is problematic enough). But it is quite unheard of to have a polyvocal judge. We can, perhaps, only shake our heads at this marvel, and agree with Hamlet when he wisely said, “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Conclusion

The judgments in Jyoti Jagtap and Umar Khalid show that the courts continue to be sites of contestation when it comes to UAPA, state and prosecutorial impunity, and under-trial incarceration. These two judgments belong to the “executive court” tradition, where the language of the court resembles – and often goes beyond – the language of the executive. In UAPA bail cases, the executive court’s judgments are marked by how judicial reasoning fills in the gaps in the prosecution’s case with inferences and assumptions, and innocuous and political legitimate forms of dissent are rendered illegal by transplanting them into a “larger conspiracy”, and how the issue of the conspiracy itself remains an assumption.

As we have seen, however, this is not the only way under the UAPA: the 2021 and 2022 bail judgments – that also come from the Bombay and Delhi high courts – show how a judiciary that is sensitive to the claims of individual liberty can act under the confines of the UAPA.

Much, therefore, will depend upon which of these two approaches, over time, finally transforms into “settled law”: in the meantime, each individual case represents an important site of the legal and constitutional struggle against the UAPA’s entrenchment of state impunity.

Of 16 Arrested Accused in Elgar Parishad Case, One Dead, Two Out on Bail and Rest in Jail

With the Supreme Court stipulating that charges in the Elgar Parishad-Maoist links case be framed within the next three months, the focus has shifted now to the status of the accused.

Mumbai: With the Supreme Court stipulating that charges in the Elgar Parishad-Maoist links case be framed within the next three months, the focus has shifted now to the status of the accused.

In the case that is being probed by the National Investigation Agency (NIA), of the total 16 arrested accused, Jesuit priest Stan Swamy died at a private hospital here last year during judicial custody, while Telugu poet Varavara Rao is currently out on medical bail.

Only one accused – Sudha Bharadwaj – is out on regular bail, which was granted to her by the Bombay high court in December last year, while 13 other accused are currently lodged in different jails.

The accused in the case have been charged with waging war against the nation, being active members of the banned terror outfit CPI (Maoist), criminal conspiracy and indulging in acts with an intent to strike terror in the minds of people using explosive substances.

The NIA in its draft charges sought to charge the accused under various provisions of the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA) and the Indian Penal Code (IPC). The court is yet to frame charges in the case, only after which trial would commence.

The case relates to alleged inflammatory speeches delivered at the Elgar Parishad conclave, held at Shaniwarwada in Pune on December 31, 2017, which the police claimed triggered violence the next day near the Koregaon-Bhima war memorial located on the city’s outskirts. The Pune Police, which probed the case before it was transferred to the NIA, claimed the conclave was backed by Maoists.

What is the status of the accused persons arrested in the case?

Activist Sudhir Dhawale was one of the first people to be arrested in the case in June 2018. He is presently lodged at the Taloja prison and has been accused of being an active member of the terror outfit. In July this year, a special NIA court rejected his bail plea.

Activist Rona Wilson was arrested in June 2018 from his home in Delhi and has been in jail since then. He has been described as one of the top brass of urban Maoists. His bail plea was rejected by the special court in July 2022. Wilson was granted temporary bail for 14 days by the special NIA court in September 2021 to attend a mass organised for the 30th-day ritual following his father’s death. He surrendered at the end of the 14-day period.

Lawyer Surendra Gadling was arrested in 2018 and has been in jail since then. According to the NIA, Gadling is an active member of CPI (Maoist) and was involved in the fund-raising activities and disbursement of the same. NIA also alleged that Gadling guided the violence at Koregaon Bhima in Pune. He too was refused bail by the special court in July 2022.

Professor Shoma Sen was arrested in June 2018 and has been lodged in the Byculla women’s prison since then. She had in 2021 sought bail on medical grounds and rising COVID-19 cases. The special NIA court, however, rejected her bail plea. In July 2022, the court also rejected her plea seeking default bail.

Activist Mahesh Raut is accused of spreading Maoist ideology and attempting to recruit students to join the Naxalite movement. It is alleged by the NIA that Raut had passed on Rs 5 lakh to the co-accused in the case for the Elgar Parishad event. He was arrested in 2018 and is still behind bars. His default bail plea was rejected by the special court this year.

Eighty-two-year-old Telugu poet Varavara Rao was granted medical bail by the Supreme Court on August 10, 2022. Last year, the Bombay high court granted him temporary bail on medical grounds. He was arrested in August 2018 and was in jail till February 2021 when HC granted him temporary bail. He is accused of being a senior and active member of the banned group.

Social activist and lawyer Arun Ferreira was arrested in the case in August 2018 and is presently lodged at the Taloja prison. He had sought default bail in the case but it was rejected by both the special court and the Bombay high court in February this year. Ferreira is accused of taking an active part in the Maoist movement.

Vernon Gonsalves was arrested in the case in August 2018 and is presently lodged at the Taloja prison. His bail plea was rejected by both the special court and the high court following which he approached the Supreme Court seeking bail.

Activist Sudha Bharadwaj is the only accused in the case who is out on default bail that was granted to her by the Bombay high court in December 2021. She was arrested in August 2018 and was in jail till December 2021 when she was released on bail. As per NIA, Bharadwaj was an active member of CPI (Maoist).

Anand Teltumbde, an activist and scholar, was arrested by the NIA in April 2020 after he surrendered following no relief of anticipatory bail from the Supreme Court. He is presently lodged at the Taloja prison and his bail plea has been rejected by the special court.

Seventy-year-old activist Gautam Navlakha was arrested in the case in August 2018 and has been lodged at the Taloja prison since then. In October 2021, he was shifted to the Anda Cell (high-security barracks) and has been kept in solitary confinement since then, his partner Sahba Husain claimed.

Delhi University associate professor, Hany Babu was arrested in July 2020 in the case and is presently lodged at the Taloja prison. He recently moved HC seeking bail which is yet to be heard. The NIA has accused Babu of being a co-conspirator in propagating Maoist activities and ideology on the instructions of CPI (Maoist) leaders.

Jesuit priest Stan Swamy, 83, died while in judicial custody. He had sought medical bail from the HC. Pending hearing of the same, he was shifted to a private hospital where he died on July 5, 2021. He was arrested by the NIA in October 2020 and was lodged at the Taloja prison till he was shifted to a private hospital in May 2021.

Sagar Gorkhe, a singer and anti-caste activist, was arrested by the NIA in September 2020. He is presently lodged at the Taloja prison.

Ramesh Gaichor was arrested by the NIA along with Gorkhe and is also lodged at the Taloja prison. The duo is accused of being part of a group that organised the Elgar Parishad meeting where inflammatory speeches were made.

Jyoti Jagtap, a member of the Kabir Kala Manch, was arrested in September 2020 on the charge of propagating Naxalite activities and Maoist ideology. She is presently lodged at the Byculla women’s prison in Mumbai.

(PTI)

In Maharashtra, Prison Quarantine Centres Are More Harrowing than Main Jail Barracks

While some have a crushing lack of space, others have no clean water or trained staff to take care of ill prisoners.

Mumbai: In the last two months, Shweta Salve*, a 42-year-old undertrial prisoner, fell ill three times.

Twice, because of a stomach infection – a severe yet common illness that most prisoners learn to live with – and then fever, which then led to a COVID-19 positive report. Each time she complained of ill health, her lawyer had to move court to ensure she could access medical treatment outside the Byculla women prisons.

After routine check-ups at the state-run JJ Hospital, Salve was sent back every time. But after each visit, instead of her usual barrack, she would be sent to a separate facility within the Byculla prisons premises which has now been made into a quarantine centre.

This separate, highly congested barrack, houses everyone stepping out of the prison premises, irrespective of their health conditions. Salve’s lawyer claims that it was here that Salve was infected.

“It is a complete mess. Salve tells me the space is overcrowded and it is practically impossible to maintain physical distance in this barrack. There were several co-prisoners who had fever and throat infection but were not tested. Eventually, Salve fell sick too,” the lawyer, who did not want to be identified, told The Wire.

Once Salve was down with a sore throat and fever, was tested for COVID-19 (on her lawyer’s insistence), she was moved to a separate quarantine facility set up inside a school, a little way from Byculla prison. Salve was one of the 40 women prisoners to have tested positive at Byculla prison in April.

Byculla prison. Photo: PTI/File

‘Several adults in a room made for children’

This quarantine centre is little more than a small room inside the school, accommodating 30-35 women prisoners who have tested COVID-19 positive. The room is crammed and with very little space to relax. Designed for school children, the room is unfit for stay, both prisoners and lawyers complain.

Also read: Token Temporary Measures to Decongest Prisons Can’t Save Inmates from COVID-19

Mihir Desai, a senior counsel, who is also an amicus curiae in the ongoing suo motu petition before the Bombay high court for decongestion of over 60 prisons of Maharashtra says that most of these quarantine facilities set up in schools have inadequate toilet facilities. “Most of them are municipal schools with just one or two toilets at best. Before the pandemic, these toilets were used by young school children who spent just a few hours in school. And now you have several adults, who have to use it through the day,” says Desai.

It is not just the Byculla prisons. Early last month, the state prison authority had informed the Bombay high court that 44 different quarantine facilities have been set up across the state. This is at least eight more than what was set up last year soon after the first wave of the COVID-19 pandemic. But unlike last year, most facilities this year were arranged within the prison premises.

At these centres, every prisoner who has to travel outside for reasons including health, is kept separately for around seven days. This segregation, in principle, might be a scientific option but it is not well thought out. The unliveable condition inside these quarantine centres has pushed prisoners away from accessing health facilities outside the jail.

Since the COVID-19 outbreak last year, as many as 44 prisons have reported infections. According to jail officials, a total of 4,049 prisoners have been infected since March last year. Of them, 3,864 have already recovered, 13 have died and there are at least 172 active cases across different prisons.

‘Quarantine centres more congested than usual quarters’

Several prisoners who have been sent to quarantine facilities have complained that only a small barrack – usually the most ignored and ill-equipped part of the prison – has been converted into a quarantine centre. These barracks, they complain, are more congested than the usual barracks.

Also read: As COVID-19 Cases Rise, Activists, Lawyers Appeal for the Release of Prisoners in Delhi

“In barracks where you have four toilets, only two work. There is no adequate running water in most centres,” says lawyer Payoshi Roy, who has been in constant touch with her clients in Mumbai’s various prisons. At least three of her clients – one of whom has cancer – have ended up in such a “quarantine facility” in the past few months.

In Maharashtra, Roy says all that the prison department has focused on is bringing overcapacity down to stipulated capacity. “But these efforts mean nothing in this pandemic. To ensure some kind of physical distance in jails, the total number of prisoners should have been reduced to at least two-thirds of the total capacity,” Roy notes. But the prisons in the state have over 34,000 prisoners, close to 10,000 more than capacity.

Until last week, only 1,102 Maharashtra prison inmates, including 1,007 undertrials and 95 convicts, had been released on interim bail and emergency parole. This decongestion drive was taken up following the recommendation made by the High Power Committee set up last year primarily to decongest the jails.

Last month, when Hany Babu, a 54-year-old Delhi University associate professor and one of the 16 accused in the Elgar Parishad case of 2018, fell sick, one of the immediate demands voiced by his lawyer was access to clean, running water. He had a severe bacterial infection in his left eye and at the Taloja central prison where he was lodged, clean tap water was not available. His family, in a press note, mentioned that Babu’s eye condition had further deteriorated because of the soiled water he was forced to wash his eye with.

Also read: Two Days After HC Orders Hospitalisation, Stan Swamy Tests Positive for COVID-19

Jyoti Jagtap.

At some quarantine centres, prisoners attempted to take things in their own hands.

Jyoti Jagtap, an artist with the cultural troupe Kabir Kala Manch, and arrested for her alleged role in the Elgar Parishad case, started pranayama classes at the quarantine centre set up opposite Arthur Road central prisons.

“She was at the centre for close to a month. It was a difficult time but we (her legal team) wanted her to do her best to survive in that space. Since she knew a few yoga movements, especially the breathing exercises, we encouraged her to practice and help others at the quarantine centre too,” says her lawyer, Susan Abraham. A suggestion to provide eggs to ailing prisoners was also made, Abraham adds.

Communication gap and staff

Besides the congestion and unhygienic living conditions, another problem that prisoners, their family members and lawyers have constantly complained about is the lack of proper communication channels at these quarantine centres.

Advocate Desai has, in fact, raised this issue several times in the high court. There is a court order directing prison authorities to ensure similar facilities like those in prisons are made available at these temporary quarantine centres too, Desai says. “But that isn’t the case in most centres,” he points out.

“Most times, lawyers and families are not even informed where a prisoner is lodged. And in most centres, there are no proper telephone services established. This problem happened last year and it still persists,” Desai adds.

Prisons – besides being overcrowded, also lack adequate staff – particularly medical staff. In some prisons, instead of the required allopathic doctors, Ayurvedic doctors have been appointed. These doctors have been, from time to time, accused of administering medicines they are not qualified to give. In some jails, there is just no medical care available at all. Prisoners in Kalyan and Jalgaon district jails have complained of receiving only “iron tablets” for any kind of illness.

Since the jails do not have enough staff to spare, the government has deputed Zilla Parishad and municipal corporation employees to handle the quarantine centres. “They are barely equipped to handle a prison system. Not all of them are healthcare workers. The state has not made doctors or appropriate health workers available in most quarantine centres,” Desai added.

*Name changed to protect identity

Maharashtra’s Prisons Are Feeling the Brunt of a Crisis That Could Have Been Averted

Despite several directions from the Supreme Court and high court to decongest its overcrowded prisons in view of the COVID-19 pandemic, the state government has neglected the issue.

Mumbai: On April 16, a Nagpur jail official made a hurried call to Madhubani district in Bihar, to inform 52-year-old Kamal Ansari’s family of his deteriorating health condition. Breaking down on the call, Ansari’s wife told the prison doctor, “Bacha lo unhe, unke chote chote bache hai (Please save him, he has young kids)”.

Ansari, a convicted prisoner on death row, had been hospitalised on April 9 after he showed signs of pneumonia. His condition had rapidly worsened and he soon had to be put on ventilator support. The family, however, was informed about Ansari’s health only seven days after he was hospitalised. He died on April 19.

Ansari had been in jail since 2006. He was arrested and later convicted for involvement in the serial train blasts that took off in Mumbai on July 11, 2006. The case has since been embroiled in several twists and turns and loopholes have been pointed in the police investigations from time to time. Even after the conviction, Ansari and others have maintained they have been wrongly implicated in the case.

We do not know if Ansari’s death could have been prevented. As a convict on death row, he could not have availed any benefits – parole or emergency bail as prescribed by the guideline issued by the Supreme Court in the wake of the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic in March last year. But if the state had taken the apex court’s order in a suo motu petition from last year seriously, the ongoing crisis in Maharashtra’s 60 prisons could definitely have been averted.

Also read: In Maharashtra Jails, Prisoners Are Being Tested for COVID-19 Only After Their Death

Ansari’s family was only informed close to 10 hours after his death. They have accused the prison authorities of negligence. “While in custody, the prisoner is completely dependent on the authorities to make arrangements. Family members could do nothing. And the delay in making treatment available killed my father,” Ansari’s daughter Mariayam says.

According to the prison department, two prisoners, including Ansari, and one prison staffer have died in the state since the second wave began gathering pace in April. Several prisoners had died last year too.

Illustration: Pariplab Chakraborty

Prisoners neglected

Although Maharashtra continues to top in the country in the number of vaccinations administered (1.61 crore as of May 1) in the country, prisoners have been neglected. Responding to a suo motu petition on conditions of prisons, advocate general Ashutosh Kumbhakoni, representing the state government, told the Bombay high court that the state’s prisons lack both allocation of vaccines and trained staff to administer them. As a result, only very few prisoners got vaccinated.

The total prison capacity of Maharashtra’s jails is 24,032. As of March 31 this year, 35,124 prisoners were languishing across different Central and district prisons. In April, the number must have further increased. This alarmingly high number – 11,000 more than the actual capacity or 146% occupancy – continues even after the state was directed to work towards decongesting prisons over a year ago.

Last year, following the Supreme Court’s order, and a series of deaths and unchecked spread of the viral infection in jails, the then home minister Anil Deshmukh was compelled to act towards decongesting prisons. The three-member high power committee, set up after the Supreme Court’s direction, had directed the release of over 10,000 prisoners. While this number wouldn’t have been sufficient, it was a small positive step towards managing the highly underequipped prison structure.

But even as the prisoners – a large section of whom were pretrial detainees – were released, the state continued to arrest people at a much higher pace. By August, the process of screening and releasing prisoners was abruptly stopped; no reasons given. By the year end, prison population was back where it had started – over 35,000 prisoners.

And now, right at the onset of the second wave, clusters and hotspots have emerged in most prisons. Data released last week showed that close to 250 prisoners and 170 prison officials have tested positive for the coronavirus. Of them, around 40 were in Byculla women’s jail, the only designated prison for women in the state.

Cultural and anti-caste activist Jyoti Jagtap, who was arrested last year for her alleged role in the Elgar Parishad case, is among those who have been infected and has been kept at a temporary centre. Her lawyers have been struggling to establish contact with her to know her medical condition. The temporary set-ups lack basic telephone facilities and many prisoners’ families have complained of their inability to check on the health and well-being of those incarcerated. Meanwhile, advocate and academic Sudha Bharadwaj, arrested in the same case and Jagtap, has started showing symptoms.

Also read: COVID-19: PUDR Asks Delhi HC to Take Action on ‘Alarming’ Situation in City’s Prisons

Bombay high court’s observations

Soon after the media began to report about the sharp rise in cases in prisons, the Bombay high court picked up the matter suo motu. A division bench of Chief Justice Dipankar Datta and Justice Girish S. Kulkarni is presiding over the case. Senior lawyer and the state convenor of the People’s Union for Civil Liberties, Mihir Desai, who had approached the court last year, has been appointed amicus curiae (friend of the court) in the ongoing petition. Professor Vijay Raghavan from the Centre for Criminology and Justice at Tata Institute of Social Sciences (TISS), is also assisting the court. Both PUCL and TISS have jointly submitted a 15-page suggestion to the court on ways to handle the crisis in prisons.

The court has so far dealt with a plethora of issues – from overcrowding, vaccination drive to facilities that are to be made available in prisons.

Last year, as the first – and perhaps the only – measure, prisoners were given masks. These masks, Desai says, haven’t been resupplied. “Prisoners have been wearing the same mask for over a year,” Desai told the Bombay high court last week. Raghavan repeatedly told the court that the high power committee (HPC) that was to look into decongesting prisons has abandoned their responsibility long ago. “The last time the committee met was on May 2, 2020. This committee was responsible to look at different criteria and ensure the prisons don’t get overcrowded,” Raghavan submitted to the court.

Bombay high court. Credit: A. Savin/Wikimedia Commons

Bombay high court. Photo: A. Savin/Wikimedia Commons

Raghavan added that the Undertrial Review Committee (UTRC), which was meant to meet weekly and recommend the release of pre-trial detainees, has been making recommendations regularly. But most bails are denied by lower courts’, he said.

The Supreme Court in its directions had focussed on decongesting the prisons. The apex court had directed the HPCs to come up with their own criteria and release as many prisoners as they can. In Maharashtra, however, the focus has been on making “more space available” instead of releasing people on emergency bail or parole. As many as 24 temporary prisons have been set up. Last year, there were 36. These setups give momentary relief but do not address the larger issue of decongestion.

In the past 20 years, statistics provided by the National Crime Records Bureau indicate that over 27,000 incarcerated persons have died in prisons. While the data claims that a large number of them have died because of “natural causes”, the abysmally poor access to medical care in prisons suggests that many of these deaths could have been averted.

Also read: Vaccinate Arrested Accused Persons Above 45: HC to Maha Government

For instance, the Taloja Central prison, which houses over 3,500 prisoners (at 166 % occupancy), has only three ayurvedic doctors. None of them, according to the Maharashtra Prison Rules amended in 2015, are qualified; yet the prisoners have no one else to turn to. This, the high court pointed out last week, sums up the condition of all 60 prisons in the state. Even advocate general Kumbhakoni, representing the state government, agreed the situation needs to be addressed. The state claimed it has conducted over 64,000 COVID-19 tests, including repeat tests on some prisoners, over the past year.

The Central government has made identity proofs – in most cases the Aadhaar card – compulsory to receive a vaccine. Very few prisoners have any state-issued identity cards, leave alone Aadhaar cards. The Bombay high court observed that while the Aadhaar card might be important to maintain a nationwide database of vaccinations, their use should not hinder those who want to get vaccinated. “If an Aadhaar card is coming in the way, then let Aadhar registration camps be organised and such cards be issued,” the court observed. The case is next scheduled for hearing on May 4.

Elgar Parishad Case: NIA Calls Kabir Kala Manch ‘Maoist Front’, Takes Activists into Custody

Another KKM activist, Jyoti Jagtap, has also been taken into custody.

Mumbai: The National Investigations Agency has accused the cultural group Kabir Kala Mancha (KKM) of being a frontal organisation of the banned terrorist Communist Party of India (Maoist).

The agency made this accusation while seeking custody of the two KKM shahirs (bards) who were arrested on September 7 for their alleged involvement in the ongoing Elgar Parishad case. The designated NIA court today handed both 32-year-old Sagar Gorkhe and 36-year-old Ramesh Gaichor over to the agency’s custody until September 11.

Meanwhile, in Pune, another KKM activist, Jyoti Jagtap, was summoned to the city office of the state Anti- Terrorism Squad. From there, Jagtap too was taken into NIA custody. She will be produced at the NIA court on September 9.

KKM is a Pune-based cultural troupe that was formed by youth belonging to the Bahujan community from across Maharashtra. Several working-class musicians and poets had come together after the 2002 communal riots in Gujarat and formed their own cultural group to sing songs of resistance and state repression. They have also been vocal against caste atrocities across the country.

Also read: FIR Against Kabir Kala Manch Members, Others for ‘Promoting Enmity’ At Bhima Koregaon Event

The three arrested activists were also primary organisers of the Elgar Parishad event that was organised under the banner of ‘Bhima Koregaon Shaurya Din Prerana Abhiyan’ on December 31, 2017 at Pune’s Shaniwarwada area. The site, considered to be a quintessential Brahmin bastion was chosen as a symbol of protest against the Brahminical state order. An FIR was soon filed against the organisers and Gorkhe, Gaichor and Jagtap were named in the FIR.

Today, while seeking Gorkhe and Gaichor’s custody, the NIA claimed that the duo had visited Gadchiroli for “arms training” and have “deep-rooted connection with the Naxalites [Maoists]”.

“The arrested accused persons were in contact with absconding accused Milind Teltumbde [believed to be a top-rung leader of the banned CPI (Maoist) organisation] and the Urban network of CPI (Maoist),” the NIA has claimed. They have also alleged that the accused “during their visits to the jungle, underwent weapon and explosive training and awareness programme on various topics related to the Maoist movement.”

The NIA, similar to allegations made by the Pune police, have claimed that Milind Teltumbde had discussed details of the Elgar Parishad event with those arrested and the CPI (Maoist) had subsequently made inroads into the organisation. The alleged crime of inciting violence was “executed through the members of Kabir Kala Munch [Manch] and other frontal organisations”.

While the Ministry of Home Affairs of India has banned a number of organisations that have been proscribed as “terrorist organisations” under the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act, the KKM does not appear on the list. Several investigating agencies, from time to time, have accused numerous cultural and human rights organisations of being “frontal outfits” without really going through the legal processes of proving their “illegality”.

Also read: Birds in the Prison Barracks: An Interview with Kabir Kala Manch’s Sagar Gorkhe and Ramesh Gaichor

The NIA and earlier the Pune police have claimed that all 15 accused who have been arrested in the case are “urban Naxals” who were responsible for violence that had been unleashed on the Dalits visiting the Bhima Koregaon Vijay Stambh, just outside Pune, on January 1, 2018.

The duo, like several other witnesses in the case, had been summoned to the NIA’s Mumbai office on multiple occasions. Minutes after their arrest, their troupe members had released a video of Gorkhe and Gaichor narrating how they were allegedly pressured by the NIA officials to confess to false events if they wanted to escape arrest. When the duo refused, they were allegedly arrested.

In the video, recorded on September 5, Gorkhe can be heard saying, “We won’t confess. We aren’t the progeny of Vinayak Damodar Savarkar but are children of Ambedkar. We will fight back.”

These allegations that the duo was harassed by the NIA to provide their confessional statements were brought up before the NIA court today. Their lawyer, Nihalsing Rathod, argued that the duo had been harassed and cited section 163 of the Code of Criminal Procedure which prohibits any kind of inducement to be offered to the witness or accused.

“You have named my clients in the FIR in 2018, you have called them for questioning time and again. You have already conducted raids at their locations two years ago. To dispel any kind of apprehensions, it would be best that the NIA brings on record the audio and video recording of their interrogation,” Rathod argued in the court.

Also read: After Three Years in Jail, India’s ‘Most Dangerous’ Singers Finally Make Bail

The NIA, however, claimed that it has not recorded the interrogation. Incidentally, the agency had also summoned Rathod for “inquiry” on September 7. Like Rathod, several other lawyers involved in the defence in the case have been summoned for questioning. They have all termed the NIA’s move as an attack on their privilege to access important information about the clients they are representing in the case.

This is not the first time that Gorkhe and Gaichor have been arrested. In a similar accusation, they were arrested in 2013, by the state ATS under the then Congress-NCP government, and had to spend four years in jail before they were granted bail. It has been over seven years and the case is still pending before the trial court. Jagtap, who was named in the earlier FIR, was not arrested then.

Arrests so far

All arrested accused have been booked under several sections of the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act, along with sections of the Indian Penal Code. Before the KKM activists, the Pune police and NIA have together arrested 12 activists, lawyers, and academics from various parts of the country. Most of them have maintained that they had no role to play in the Elgar Parishad and had, in fact, never visited Bhima Koregaon in their lives.

The first round of arrests in the Elgar Parishad case had begun in June 2018, with the arrests of Sudhir Dhawale, a writer and Mumbai-based Dalit rights activist, Surendra Gadling, a UAPA expert and lawyer from Nagpur, Mahesh Raut, a young activist on displacement issues from Gadchiroli, Shoma Sen, a university professor and head of the English literature department at Nagpur University, and Rona Wilson, a Delhi-based prisoners’ rights activist.

Also read: Rights Bodies Urge President Kovind to Note Several Blatant Human Rights Violations

In the second round of arrests in August 2018, advocates Arun Ferreira and Sudha Bharadwaj, and writers Varavara Rao and Vernon Gonsalves were taken into custody.

After the NIA took over in January this year, they have arrested academics Anand Teltumbde and Hany Babu and activist Gautam Navlakha.

The police have filed two sets of chargesheet so far—the main chargesheet against the first arrestees, followed by a supplementary chargesheet against those arrested in the second round. The NIA is yet to file a chargesheet and in July, was granted 90 days extension to file their chargesheet against Temtumbde and Navlakha.