The idea that works of art and scholarship will now have to answer to protocols set by a myriad of groups, including the judiciary, is deeply worrying. Last year, in a worrying judgment, the court upheld the ban on a novel nominated for awards, Dharamkaarana, by P.V. Narayanna. In that case too, the high court had suggested that some passages be removed. In an extraordinary act of artistic integrity, the author refused and the ban was upheld. It is a cliché that freedom of expression is not absolute. But it is equally true that freedom of expression is not worth much if it does not let art, or works of scholarship, or “the thought we hate” that might offend someone, pass muster. I know of publishers who will not touch books on Shivaji because of fear of violence, and a sense that the courts will not protect them.

There are also serious doubts about due process. What does it mean for a court to say that the interest of justice would be best served by a particular action, and at the same time acknowledge that the full merits of the case have not been heard? Arundhati Roy, another victim of the courts, rightly said that in India “due process is the punishment.” Just imagine, a foreign scholar spends his life doing research in difficult conditions, publishes a book. It is banned; vandals destroy centres of learning to express their protest. The matter has been through the high court. It has already been heard by a three-judge bench of the Supreme Court. The author has already offered his version of a compromise, and yet he is subject to another proceeding in the court. M.F. Husain is facing numerous cases because they cannot be bunched together due to technicalities. Whatever the final outcome, due process has already deterred free expression.

... contd.