Carrots, Sticks and Shaping Speech in India

Prateek Waghre is a fellow at Tech Policy Press. Note: This piece looks at events shaping speech in India before April 25, 2025, and was written before the India-Pakistan escalation in May.

Academic scholars have noted that the fate of speech and expression in India's internet carries significant implications far beyond its borders. I have previously outlined the current state of play and regulatory framework. However, the manner in which this already-deficient framework is applied—often in combination with other instruments by the executive branch—intensifies the threat to free expression. Moreover, beyond state-run agencies, a range of politically aligned diffuse actors and corporate entities have also developed the capacity to intervene in India’s digital public sphere. Recent months have offered a revealing glimpse into how proverbial carrots and sticks are used to shape speech and expression. These tactics include the executive’s disregard for normative processes, coercive action(s) by law enforcement, threats and violence by non-state actors, and monetization opportunities tied to favorable messaging, among others, suggesting that the tendency to resort to restricting free expression is a systemic feature beyond existing/impending legislation.

Some of these instances demonstrate the different ways in which speech can be restricted. They should be viewed alongside recent surveys, which are indicative rather than definitive, and offer insight into public attitudes toward free speech.. A survey by Future of Free Speech found strong support for government restrictions on speech critical of one's religion (~55%), minorities (~56%), and government policy (~37%). Similarly, a Pew Research Center survey showed an inverted freedom gap in India–more respondents believed freedoms like press, speech, and internet access existed than those who considered them important. These are of relevance as they signal how large sections of Indian citizens may respond to speech-restricting measures by the government, and criticism of its conduct.

Due Process, Only As Punishment

I had previously written about the Tamil-language magazine Vikatan, whose website was blocked in March after it published a cartoon depicting Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi in chains, seated next to US President Donald Trump—a reference to their meeting during Modi’s visit to the United States. The Hindu reported that users could not access the website on February 15th. It was initially unclear which ministry issued the orders, with the IT ministry denying that it had issued any such orders. Subsequently, The Hindu reported that the orders were issued by the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting (MIB). It also noted that the Bharatiya Janata Party’s (BJP) then Tamil Nadu state unit head, K. Annamalai, had written to the Minister of State for Information and Broadcasting. Notably, Vikatan also received a formal notice from MIB to appear before an Inter-Departmental Committee (constituted under the IT Rules, 2021) for a hearing about blocking the specific cartoon. Still, it reportedly did not reference the website being blocked. The magazine subsequently challenged the committee’s decision in the Madras High Court, where it was granted interim relief. The website could be restored once the cartoon was removed until the court could rule on its constitutionality.

While the restoration of the website is welcome, the outcome remains a net negative—rewarding the state for unjustifiable overreach and a disregard for due process. and disregard for due process. Under the current status quo, the cartoon remains inaccessible until the hearing concludes, effectively granting the MIB what it wants. Ideally, the legal frameworks and courts constrain the executive branch from arbitrarily blocking entire websites. Vikatan should have been asked to appear for a hearing while both the site and cartoon remained accessible—setting aside, of course, the absurdity of holding such a hearing over a cartoon in the first place.

Apart from content restrictions, the state can also impose procedural barriers that can threaten the very existence of organizations. In January 2025, The Reporters’ Collective, a non-profit collective of investigative journalists, confirmed that tax authorities had cancelled their “non-profit status” because “journalism does not serve any public purpose and therefore cannot be carried out as a non-profit exercise in India.” Reporters Without Borders termed it a “dangerous precedent” which could jeopardise the “financial viability” of similar entities. The File, targeted similarly, effectively ceased operations in December 2024. Tax authorities have carried out ‘tax surveys’ at Newslaundry, BBC India, the Indian Public Spirited Media Foundation (which funds independent media), and many others. A common thread is that these organisations either criticize governments (union or state), or support organisations that are. Thus, the intended message seems to be that critical reportage is not welcome.

Coercion, Threats, And Suggestion

Unfortunately, the tendency for overreach of authority isn’t limited to any particular part of the political spectrum, even if there may be some differences in degrees. State governments, administered by a range of political parties, across the country control law enforcement authorities and also use them in troubling ways.

Since May 2024, Tamil Nadu (administered by the Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam, an influential regional party) has repeatedly attempted to detain YouTuber and government critic 'Savukku' Shankar under the Tamil Nadu Goondas Act, which allows preventive detention for up to a year. Despite being granted relief by both the Madras High Court and the Supreme Court, Shankar faced a barrage of legal actions, including 16 FIRs—later consolidated by the Supreme Court—for remarks alleging sexual misconduct among police officers. He was also charged with drug possession and spreading misinformation about a sanitation scheme, and detained after missing a summons in the drug case. In March, his residence was reportedly ransacked by men posing as sanitation workers. Felix Gerald, who interviewed Shankar, was also prosecuted and initially denied bail; the judge claimed his questions had “aggravated” the situation. He was granted bail only after agreeing to suspend the YouTube channel. While Shankar’s actions may be contentious, the state’s aggressive legal pursuit raises concerns about overreach.

In March, the Telangana (governed by the Indian National Congress (INC)) government prosecuted and arrested two journalists for posting “derogatory” and “abusive” remarks about Revanth Reddy, the Chief Minister. Even though they were granted bail, the Chief Minister went on to defend the actions in the state assembly, arguing that such individuals should be “stripped and paraded in public.” He even suggested that there is a requirement for a law that would define “who is a journalist (sic).” In April, the recently elected BJP administration threatened to file criminal cases against individuals for making what it alleged were false claims about the power situation in New Delhi. In Maharashtra, the state government has allocated INR 10 crore (~115K USD) to monitor media coverage about the state government across publications and social media. While attempting to clarify that this was not meant to control the media, the state chief minister, Devendra Fadnavis, noted that the truth or facts will be provided to anyone who may have ‘misreported’ on the state government’s schemes. Broadly, an atmosphere of surveillance and a threat of criminal prosecution is highly likely to stifle government criticism.

Content Removal to Venue ‘Takedowns’

On March 23, Kunal Kamra, a stand-up comedian who has been a vocal critic of the BJP and the first petitioner to challenge the fact-checking amendments to the IT Rules, uploaded a video of his comedy special, Naya Bharat (New India). In the video, he made an indirect reference to Eknath Shinde, one of two Deputy Chief Ministers of the coalition government in Maharashtra and leader of the Shinde faction of the Shiv Sena, suggesting he was a traitor for defecting from an earlier alliance. It is worth noting that Kamra also mocked the Prime Minister and the Finance Minister, naming them directly, unlike Shinde, who was only obliquely referenced based on his occupation before his entry into politics.

While the Mumbai police predictably filed a case accusing him of public mischief and defamation, another aspect of the response was more notable. Members of the Shiv Sena proceeded to vandalise the studio in Mumbai where the video was shot, and threatened Kamra with physical violence. The Wire reported, based on an analysis of CCTV footage and eye-witness accounts, that law enforcement was present throughout the course of the vandalism but did not intervene. The local administration also investigated the venue and proceeded to demolish what it called “illegal structures.” In response, the venue announced that it would be shutting down until it could “figure out the best way to provide a platform for free expression without putting ourselves and our property in jeopardy.” It has since stated that it is considering restarting operations. Reports also suggest that Kunal Kamra’s profile on BookMyShow, one of India’s largest ticketing platforms, was removed after a representative of the Shiv Sena’s youth wing wrote to the CEO of BookMyShow urging them to deplatform Kamra. The Mumbai police even went to the extent of sending summons to people who had attended, and Kamra himself sought protection from arrest in court.

In this case, though no direct attempts appear to have been made to restrict the actual video on YouTube, the cascade of informal (vandalism, threats) and formal actions (demolition, summons, prosecution) represent a more direct threat to the liberty of the primary target (Kamra), as well as any other participant that may be directly / indirectly linked (the venue, audience). One can claim that actions involving coercion, threats, and violence would also result in a “Streisand Effect”. While it is true that such individual cases tend to attract more attention, I hypothesize that repeated occurrences also signal the capacity and appetite of both state and non-state actors to inflict punishment—even if such signalling is unintentional. In the medium to long term, this is likely to create an environment where fewer people participate in what may be deemed subversive activities, and even fewer are vocal and openly critical.

Incentivizing “Positivity” and Self-Serving Censorship?

Some of this is already visible either in response to or catalyzed by the India’s Got Latent controversy. In addition to creators self-censoring, seeking legal counsel, and brands running background checks to avoid controversies, broader efforts to “formalise” also seem to be underway. A body calling itself the India Influencer Governing Council (IIGC) was created in mid-February. With an industry-heavy advisory board, its stated vision is to “enhance trust and credibility in influencer marketing.” It released a voluntary Code of Standards earlier in April, billed as a “blueprint for influencers.” Influencers are already concerned with their representation within the organization, which raises questions about how representative and consultative the process of drafting the code was. The code repeatedly references removal, flagging, and demonetization, though it isn’t clear how this can happen without social media platforms actively cooperating. The code also includes a “commitment to positive influence,” asking influencers to foster positive conversations. This may be well-intentioned, but such phrasing is also, unfortunately, used by political actors to dismiss critical voices. But beyond the specifics of the code, this structure represents a capitulation to the vision of the Broadcasting Services (Regulation) Bill, which seeks to police content creators in the country. It is also ill-suited for an industry with an estimated four million creators.

In a space where monetization is erratic, and opportunities likely accrue to the more popular creators, arrangements that involve governments paying creators should be looked at with scepticism for the kind of perverse incentives they can create. And yet, the Union Government announced a 1 billion USD creator fund in March. Other state governments in Uttar Pradesh, Haryana, Punjab, Karnataka, and Himachal have also published versions of influencer and digital marketing policies that involve payouts to creators and influencers. The stated aim is to publicize state government policies, welfare programmes, etc., as this analysis by the Internet Freedom Foundation shows. Most did not mandate transparency disclosures, so it wasn’t clear whether people would even know they were engaging with a paid promotion. Many policies also allowed the executive branch to “cancel” such arrangements under broad conditions, such as posting “objectionable” content. A probable consequence would be that many creators would avoid criticizing government policy (at multiple levels) out of fear of losing their existing contracts or not being considered for such arrangements.

Some of these examples may seem particularly concerning depending on where you are. In India, perhaps per the survey findings referenced earlier, these (and many others over the last few years) didn’t transcend beyond episodic news cycles into broader conversations about the state of free expression in society. They represent a state of “stable dysfunction” where singular episodes don’t seem all that alarming (by relative standards) but lead to a continuously degrading environment where all participants are worse off, including the partisan actors who may believe that they currently exercise power.