Centre for Internet and Society

Government blocks 32 websites to check ISIS propaganda

praskrishna — 2015-01-02T13:37:39Z

The Centre has blocked 32 websites, including vimeo.com, dailymotion.com, pastebin.com and github.com, in an effort to curb ISIS propaganda, prompting a wave of online protests.

The article by Kim Arora was published in the Times of India on January 1, 2015. Pranesh Prakash gave his inputs.

An Indian "hacktivist" group, Anonymous India, has threatened reprisal. By Wednesday evening, however, websites that had complied with the government order to remove objectionable content had been unblocked, sources said.

A confidential department of telecom order, dated December 17, instructing all internet service licensees to block the websites appeared online on Wednesday. When contacted to verify the news, Dr Gulshan Rai, director of the Indian Computer Emergency Response Team (CERT-In), told TOI the directions had been issued to internet service providers following a Mumbai additional chief metropolitan magistrate's November order directing the government's Department of Electronics and Information Technology (DeitY) to implement the same.

He added that Mumbai's Anti-Terrorism Squad (ATS) had approached the judiciary after interrogating Arif Majeed, a 23-year-old ISIS recruit from Kalyan. More recently, Bengaluru professional Mehdi Biswas was arrested for allegedly spreading ISIS propaganda on Twitter. "These websites were being used to invite youths to join ISIS. We had contacted the websites sometime back and asked for the removal of the objectionable content. At that time, our communications were ignored. Some of them have now agreed to work with the government. The websites that have complied are being unblocked," Rai told TOI.

The move met with opposition from the online community. While the tech community opposed the Github ban, others were upset about video-sharing websites like dailymotion.com and vimeo.com being taken down. "By blocking vimeo and dailymotion along with other websites, India is walking in the footsteps of Pakistan," tweeted @baawraman.

The list of websites in the DoT document was heavy on large text-sharing and collaboration websites, like Github and Pastebin, popular with coders and software developers. Many objected to the blocking of entire websites instead of specific URLs hosting problematic content. However, Rai explained that individual URLs could not be blocked because of the "high mobility of content" on the websites. "It can just be removed and pasted elsewhere. There are no checks and balances," he said.

Hacktivist group Anonymous India tweeted, "One fine morning, Indian government decided to block sites like Github. Now now, it is time to wake-up. Government of India, Expect Us," a tweet from their handle @opindia_revenge said.

As questions began to be raised on social networks, BJP IT cell head Arvind Gupta tweeted, "The websites that have been blocked were based on an advisory by the Anti-Terrorism Squad, and were carrying anti-India content from ISIS. The sites that have removed objectionable content and/or cooperated with the ongoing investigations, are being unblocked."

The sustainability of counter-measures like blanket blocking to contain threats is being questioned. Prasanth Sugathan, counsel at Software Freedom and Law Center, said such a move is short-sighted. "If you block one website, terrorists can always use another one. Or they will move to using encrypted channels, peer-to-peer communication or even telephones. One can't block everything. In my opinion, such a move only inconveniences the daily users and doesn't solve the long-term purpose," said Sugathan. The sentiment was echoed by common Twitter users as well.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi's tweet from August 2012 condemning blanket blocking of websites was pulled out for recirculation. "As a common man, I join the protest against crackdown on freedom of speech! Have changed my DP. 'Sabko Sanmati De Bhagwan.' #GOIBlocks," Modi had tweeted on August 24, 2012.

Pranesh Prakash, policy director at Bengaluru-based Center for Internet and Society, questioned the lack of transparency around the practice of blocking websites under the Indian law. "Qn for govt: Why does the law require secrecy of web blocking orders when it doesn't allow such secrecy for books, films? #GoIBlocks," he tweeted, adding, "The 69A Rules don't allow for transparency, accountability, time-limits on blocks, etc. So easily misused by govt. + courts + individuals." The websites were blocked under section 69 A of the IT Act, 2000 and the IT (Procedure and sdafeguards for Blocking of Access of Information by Public) rules, 2009.

Currently, the Supreme Court is in the middle of hearing a clutch of petitions challenging several IT Act provisions, including blocking and takedown of websites.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/news/the-times-of-india-jan-1-2015-kim-arora-government-blocks-32-websites-to-check-isis-propaganda

Government asks Twitter to block fake 'PMO India' accounts; site fails to respond

praskrishna — 2012-09-04T12:24:52Z

A standoff between the government and microblogging service Twitter, that has got India's online community up in arms, continues, as Twitter is still to act on India's requests to block some of the fake 'PMO India' accounts.

This article was published in the Economic Times on August 23, 2012. Sunil Abraham is quoted.

India's Minister for Communications and Information Technology Kapil Sibal said, "Twitter has not responded to our requests in a satisfactory manner. The fake accounts are still there. The government of India is contemplating what action should be taken against Twitter and this will be announced as soon as we have finalised our response," he said.

Sibal further added that the government received a response from the US Department of Justice, which also agreed that the content on the sites India sought to ban was inappropriate.

Twitter's operating code allows for parody accounts to be allowed as long as such accounts clearly identify as parody. The accounts in question - including @Indian_pm, @PMOIndiaa, @dryumyumsingh, @PM0India- do so.

Unlike other popular parody accounts of world leaders, though, some of these accounts make no attempt to 'spoof' tweets from the Prime Minister. The user of the @PM0India handle, with over 11 thousand followers, has changed their handle to @thehinduexpress, and tweeted "When I've to parody PM, I'll use the other a/c and RT that. For countering media and Congress, this ID will be used. To hell with censorship."

An email by ET to Twitter Inc, received no response at the time of going to press. However, news agency PTI quoted sources saying that Twitter has communicated to the PMO that it would be locating the "unlawful content". "India is important to us and we would like to have clearer communication in these matters in future," PTI quoted Twitter as saying. Official spokesperson for Indian Prime Minister's Office Pankaj Pachauri confirmed that Twitter is looking into the matter.

Over the past few days, the government has blocked around 300 websites which it blames for spreading rumours that triggered the exodus of people from the North East from several cities. Google and Facebook on Tuesday told ET they were working with India in removing content which can incite violence.

"There is clear evidence that these social networks have caused harm and disruption. However, they need to be clearer about the way they go about blocking sites and other links. The block order contained around 20 accounts and over 80 Youtube videos.

It also had several mainstream media reports and a few Pakistani sites," Sunil Abraham, executive director of Bangalore-based Centre for Internet and Society said. Analysts do not rule out the possibility that Twitter itself will be blocked in India if it does not act.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/news/articles-economictimes-indiatimes-com-govt-asks-twitter-to-block-fake-pmo-india-accounts-site-fails-to-respond

Governing Speech on the Internet: From the Free Marketplace Policy to a Controlled 'Public Sphere'

Smarika Kumar — 2015-08-28T05:57:55Z

This post by Smarika Kumar is part of the 'Studying Internets in India' series. Smarika is a consultant with Alternative Law Forum, Bangalore. She is interested in issues concerning law and technology. In this essay, Smarika explores how through the use of policy and regulation, the private marketplace of the internet is sought to be reined in and reconciled to the public sphere, which is mostly represented through legislations governing the internet.

Introduction

The internet is widely thought to be unprecedented and radically different from the media which preceded it. Interestingly, the internet has been unlike other media, in that it does not have a history of being monopolised by governments. True, certain States have tried to regulate the internet in a manner which allows them to exercise an increased control over it, some others have a greater control over the internet root given the history of development of the internet, but nevertheless no one State can be said to “own” the internet in any jurisdiction, in the manner of telephone or broadcast monopolies. Internet as it stands now, at its essence, is a largely private of networks connecting privately-owned, and occasionally publicly-funded platforms.

This feature of the internet poses an interesting problem when one tries to think about speech. In law and policymaking, an important question remains: Should internet be treated as the marketplace of privately managed avenues for speech, or should speech on the internet be treated within the bigger concept of the public sphere? Moreover, how are law and policy in India currently disposed towards speech on the internet? In the present essay, I hope to discuss some of these issues by looking at the judgement in Shreya Singhal v. Union of India [1], which was pronounced by the Supreme Court of India in March 2015. The judgement is most widely recognised as a culmination of several challenges to Section 66A of the Information Technology Act, 2000 which criminalised a wide range of speech on the internet on the grounds of very broad terms like “grossly offensive”, “causing annoyance” and “inconvenience, danger, and obstruction.” Section 66A was challenged along with Sections 69A and 79 of the Act, which lay down the rules for blocking of content on the internet, and for intermediary liability and responsibility to take down internet content, respectively. This challenge was made on grounds of being in violation of the Right to Freedom of Speech and Expression and Right to Equality guaranteed by the Constitution of India among others. However, while the judgement struck down Section 66A as unconstitutional, it upheld the constitutionality of the State-directed Internet blocking Rules as well as Intermediary Liability Guidelines. This may pose a paradox if one accounts for the fact that at the heart of it, all—Section 66A, Section 69A and Section 79, were actually legislations regulating speech. Then why strike one down and uphold others? To seek an answer in the present essay, I broadly look at the philosophical origins of regulation of speech on the internet. Two theories in philosophy—John Stuart Mill’s The Marketplace of Ideas and Jurgen Habermas’ Public Sphere have been very influential in liberal democratic traditions and jurisdictions in thinking about the governance of speech. Scholarly work concerning media law in other jurisdictions has also elaborated on how each of these theories can be implicitly used differently in judicial interpretations to serve different ends [2]. In this, the Marketplace of Ideas approach tends to treat speech and platforms for speech as part of the competition within a market context, whereby different kinds of ideas or speech compete with each other to find an avenue for expression. The Public Sphere approach on the other hand, treats different kinds of speech as part of a larger democratic concept of discussion and speech, whereby the aspiration is for representation of diverse kinds and sources of speech, rather than competition between them.

With the utilisation of these different underlying philosophical assumptions, legal implications can be so vastly different. And when that happens, it becomes essential to trace the process of how these philosophical approaches themselves work in legal argumentation. For these reasons, it becomes critical to probe the thinking in Shreya Singhal judgement to understand which philosophical attitude to speech it actually inheres: the Marketplace of Ideas conception, or the Public Sphere approach? I argue in this essay that while traces of both the Marketplace of Ideas and the Public Sphere approach are present in Shreya Singhal, neither of these philosophies actually govern the rationale of the judgement. An analysis of Shreya Singhal along with the judgement in Cricket Association of Bengal (1995) [3] which it refers to, shows that it is in fact, a third philosophy, rooted in the impulse of colonial control, which gives Shreya Singhal its philosophical consistency.

The Marketplace of Ideas in Shreya Singhal

The judgement in Shreya Singhal actually employs the idea of the marketplace in its approach to discuss the implications of Section 66A. It begins by referring to the 2010 Supreme Court judgement of S. Khushboo v. Kanniamal and Anr [4] which had spoken about the concept of the marketplace of ideas, and how employing it is essential to safeguard “unpopular speech” under the Right to Freedom of Speech and Expression in the Article 19(1)(a) of the Constitution of India. The Court marks out this reference to the marketplace of ideas, tracing this concept back to the 1919 American judgement of Abrams v. United States [5]. The Supreme Court states, talking about the Khushboo case:

This last judgement is important in that it refers to the “market place of ideas” concept that has permeated American Law. This was put in the felicitous words of Justice Holmes in his famous dissent in Abrams v. United States, 250 US 616 (1919), thus: “But when men have realized that time has upset many fighting faiths, they may come to believe even more than they believe the very foundations of their own conduct that the ultimate good desired is better reached by free trade in ideas-that the best test of truth is the power of thought to get itself accepted in the competition of the market, and that truth is the only ground upon which their wishes safely can be carried out. That at any rate is the theory of our Constitution.” (para 11)

The Supreme Court judgement goes onto trace the history of Marketplace of Ideas in American jurisprudence, and understand its place within the Indian Constitution. The Court holds:

This leads us to a discussion of what is the content of the expression “freedom of speech and expression”. There are three concepts which are fundamental in understanding the reach of this most basic of human rights. The first is discussion, the second is advocacy, and the third is incitement. Mere discussion or even advocacy of a particular cause howsoever unpopular is at the heart of Article 19(1)(a). It is only when such discussion or advocacy reaches the level of incitement that Article 19(2) kicks in. (para 13)

The Marketplace of Ideas then becomes the philosophical tenet which pivots the judgement around its unique jurisprudential concept: the distinction between discussion, advocacy and incitement. This conception of the marketplace holds that State interference in speech on the internet has to be kept off as long as the condition of such speech being incitement is not fulfilled. In a way, this is a hands-off approach to the governance of speech which is solidified in the Court’s declaration of the unconstitutionality of Section 66A. The Court refers to the American judgement of Reno, Attorney General of United States v. American Civil Liberties Union [6] to bring this logic to speech on the internet as well. Citing the district court judgement in this case, it holds:

[I]t is no exaggeration to conclude that the Internet has achieved, and continues to achieve, the most participatory marketplace of mass speech that this country – and indeed the world – as yet seen. The plaintiffs in these actions correctly describe the ‘democratizing’ effects of Internet communication: individual citizens of limited means can speak to a worldwide audience on issues of concern to them. Federalists and Anti-federalists may debate the structure of their government nightly, but these debates occur in newsgroups or chat rooms rather than in pamphlets. Modern-day Luthers still post their theses, but to electronic bulletins boards rather than the door of the Wittenberg Schlosskirche. More mundane (but from a constitutional perspective, equally important) dialogue occurs between aspiring artists, or French cooks, or dog lovers, or fly fishermen. 929 F. Supp. At 881. (at page 425) (para 60)

Shreya Singhal’s striking down of 66A then becomes founded in the idea that the State need not interfere in what kind of speech is made in the marketplace of the internet, as long as such speech does not amount to incitement. In a particular sphere of speech which is “not incitement” then, the logic of the Marketplace of Ideas approach seems to work in the Shreya Singhal judgement.

Recognition of the Limitations of the Marketplace of Ideas and a Move towards Public Sphere

One would then surmise that the use of the Marketplace of Ideas approach is what makes Shreya Singhal such a pro-freedom of speech pronouncement. But interestingly, the judgement also cites the matter of The Secretary, Ministry of Information & Broadcasting v. Cricket Association of Bengal and Anr [3] which has been remarkable for outlining the limitations of the marketplace in the governance and production of a diversity of opinions and sources in speech. The Cricket Association of Bengal case was brought forth before the Supreme Court in 1995, after the liberalisation regime in media, to challenge the constitutionality of preventing a private broadcaster to use Indian airwaves in order to exclusively broadcast a cricket match.

The Court, while holding that there was no such exclusive right inhering in a private broadcaster since airwaves had to be allocated and used in public interest, also held that the limitations on a private broadcaster’s right to broadcast also could not extend beyond Article 19(2). In doing so, the Court recognises that the marketplace in a free and competitive system may not always be sufficient enough to make use of the media to generate and represent speech which is in the democratic public interest of discussion and advocacy. Shreya Singhal cites this portion of the judgement in support of its own rationale of striking down Section 66A. It holds:

The right to use the airwaves and the content of the programmes, therefore, needs regulation for balancing it and as well as to prevent monopoly of information and views relayed, which is a potential danger flowing from the concentration of the right to broadcast/telecast in the hands either of a central agency or of few private affluent broadcasters. That is why the need to have a central agency representative of all sections of the society free from control both of the Government and the dominant influential sections of the society. This is not disputed. But to contend that on that account the restrictions to be imposed on the right under Article 19(1)(a) should be in addition to those permissible under Article 19(2) and dictated by the use of public resources in the best interests of the society at large, is to misconceive both the content of the freedom of speech and expression and the problems posed by the element of public property in, and the alleged scarcity of, the frequencies as well as by the wider reach of the media. (para 29)

The recognition in Shreya Singhal that unregulated, the marketplace can lead to “a monopoly of information and views relayed” flowing from the hands of “either a central agency or a few private affluent broadcasters” points to the limitation of the Marketplace of Ideas approach itself. Such recognition culminated into a more participation-focused idea of what it means to live in a democracy: the idea of a Public Sphere where regulation and governance of media is done in order to expand participation of different kinds of ideas and people within public speech. The Court again cites Cricket Association of Bengal in this regard to state:

When, however, there are surplus or unlimited resources and the public interests so demand or in any case do not prevent telecasting, the validity of the argument based on limitation of resources disappears. It is true that to own a frequency for the purposes of broadcasting is a costly affair and even when there are surplus or unlimited frequencies, only the affluent few will own them and will be in a position to use it to subserve their own interest by manipulating news and views. That also poses a danger to the freedom of speech and expression of the have-nots by denying them the truthful information on all sides of an issue which is so necessary to form a sound view on any subject. (para 29)

In background of this, it could be said that the Marketplace of Ideas, while it forms an important part of the backbone in the striking down of Section 66A, it is not all there is to it. The idea of participation in a Public Sphere is recognised as well, and to an extent it is the barrier to participation in this Public Sphere, which enables the declaration of Section 66A as unconstitutional.

Public Sphere or the Marketplace? : (N)either, but a Dynamics of Control

Much of the discourse around Shreya Singhal’s discussion on Sections 69A and 79, has seen it as divorced from the discussion around Section 66A. The discussion on Section 69A and 79 in the judegment has been seen as regressive, or ambiguous, while the portion of the judgement dealing with Section 66A has been largely been pronounced progressive and liberal. It has also been argued that the discussion on Section 66A in Shreya Singhal departs from a myriad previous judgements and their approach towards the governance of free speech [7]. I would like to argue on the contrary, that there is in fact, a deep continuity in the judgement on various provisions, as well as with prior judgements on speech, as far as the approach which is taken towards the governance of speech generally, and speech on the internet, specifically, is concerned.

To understand this continuity, it is of critical importance to note how the approaches of Public Sphere and the Marketplace of Ideas are contrasted in Cricket Association of Bengal, and by reference in Shreya Singhal as well—while the former is used to justify regulation for participation of a larger public in reception of information from the media, and the latter to keep off excessive interference by the Government. Moreover, the judgement also seems to conflate the Marketplace of Ideas and the Public Sphere conceptions of speech governance when it states:

It is clear, therefore, that the petitioners are correct in saying that the public’s right to know is directly affected by Section 66A. Information of all kinds is roped in – such information may have scientific, literary or artistic value, it may refer to current events, it may be obscene or seditious. That such information may cause annoyance or inconvenience to some is how the offence is made out. It is clear that the right of the people to know – the market place of ideas – which the internet provides to persons of all kinds is what attracts Section 66A. (para 20)

One notes in the abovementioned extract that the right to know is seen to emerge from the Marketplace of Ideas rather than through participation in the Public Sphere. In light of these observations, one can then ask the question: What is really at the philosophical heart of Shreya Singhal judgement when it can employ both these approaches? One can argue that the focus of the judgement is to balance these two approaches for the governance of speech. But what is the aim of such an attempt to “balance”? Where is it really leading to? The answer may lie in analysing the rest of Shreya Singhal, including its pronouncements on Executive Rules under Section 69A and Section 79, both of which while being regressive, were upheld as constitutional.

The issue under Section 69A concerned the constitutional validity of the Blocking Rules of the internet, while that under Section 79 concerned the liability of intermediaries on the internet. What is interesting is that the Court in its analysis of Rules under both these sections does not go into the grounds which have been prescribed for the blocking of websites, or for pinning intermediary liability. Commenting on the Rules under Section 69A, the judgement holds:

Merely because certain additional safeguards such as those found in Section 95 and 96 CrPC are not available does not make the Rules constitutionally infirm. We are of the view that the Rules are not constitutionally infirm in any manner. (para 111)

Additionally it places emphasis on the premise the satisfaction of the Central Government that it is necessary to block a website, is a valuable assumption to proceed with the blocking of such website within the tenet of Article 19(2). It holds:

It will be noticed that Section 69A unlike Section 66A is a narrowly drawn provision with several safeguards. First and foremost, blocking can only be resorted to where the Central Government is satisfied that it is necessary so to do. (para 109)

Similarly, for the Rules under Section 79, the Court strikes down the premise that private censorship of internet content based on the judgement of intermediaries is constitutionally permissible. (see para 117) However, it upholds constitutionality of removal of content by an intermediary upon knowledge of a court order to this effect, as well as knowledge of notification by the appropriate government. It states:

Section 79(3)(b) has to be read down to mean that the intermediary upon receiving actual knowledge that a court order has been passed asking it to expeditiously remove or disable access to certain material must then fail to expeditiously remove or disable access to that material. This is for the reason that otherwise it would be very difficult for intermediaries like Google, Facebook etc. to act when millions of requests are made and the intermediary is then to judge as to which of such requests are legitimate and which are not. We have been informed that in other countries worldwide this view has gained acceptance, Argentina being in the forefront. Also, the Court order and/or the notification by the appropriate Government or its agency must strictly conform to the subject matters laid down in Article 19(2). (para 117)

In this manner while the power of speech regulation is taken away from private intermediaries existing in the Marketplace of Ideas, it is restored within the organs of the State—the Judiciary and the Executive. This may not necessarily be repressive, as long as these powers of regulations are used to actually expand the Public Sphere, rather than limiting or controlling it. But the architecture of the regulations under both Sections 69A, and 79 suggest that they have been designed for control, rather than promoting discussion in the Public Sphere, as is evident from the strong censorship models they employ.

Such type of speech regulation aimed at creating a State-controlled “Public Sphere” has a long history: It has been additionally opined that the First Amendment to the Constitution which expanded the grounds under Article 19(2) embodies this colonial continuity within the Constitution framework itself [8]. Eminent lawyer, Rajeev Dhavan has analysed the colonial history of laws governing speech in India to observe continuity from the administration then, to the post-independence orientation of speech laws, to point out that an inherent distrust of the media has always existed in the legal structure, be it before or after the Indian Constitution. He traces such form of legal structure to a desire to control, rather than enable the “public” rooted in the context of colonial rather than democratic pressures [9].

This trend also links back to what happens in the case of Cricket Association of Bengal which is cited in support of the striking down of Section 66A in Shreya Singhal. In Cricket Association of Bengal, while there is a recognition of the limitations of Marketplace of Ideas in how it can concentrate participation in democratic discussions only to the hands of those with adequate purchasing power,9 it also fails to amend this through a process of greater participation and representation of diverse public on media. What it broadly does instead is conflate the public to the State, holding that it is only through State-administered public broadcasting that greater participation and representation of diverse public on media can happen. Accordingly, Justice B.P. Jeevan Reddy in his judgement states:

Public good lies in ensuring plurality of opinions, views and ideas and that would scarcely be served by private broadcasters, who would be and who are bound to be actuated by profit motive. There is a far greater likelihood of these private broadcasters indulging in misinformation, disinformation and manipulation of news and views than the government-controlled media, which is at least subject to public and parliamentary scrutiny. (para 181, emphasis added)

Such architecture of Government regulation in the governance of speech, visible both in Cricket Association of Bengal, and by extension in the 66A discussion in Shreya Singhal, but also in the Sections 69A and 79 discussion in the latter judgement, aspires not at expanding and creating a Habermasian Public Sphere of unlimited lively discussion, but rather, a pre-defined, controlled sphere of the “public” which behaves in congruence with the interests of the State. While on the surface it may seem to recognise the limits of the Marketplace of Ideas approach in speech governance and aim for reform of the same, in the bigger scheme of things, the criticism of the marketplace is really directed towards putting more control of public speech in the hands of the State machinery [9].

In such a background of the control trend, even a judgement like Shreya Singhal with such a progressive outcome, appears like a flash in the pan. It might allow for some seemingly liberal advancements in free speech, but it does so only within the larger structure of control mechanisms created for speech ingrained within a pre-independence, undemocratic form of governance which was disrespectful of an independent Public Sphere. The question which then needs to be asked is this: While judgements like Shreya Singhal strike down the really repressive, do they actually bring about a structural change in legal assumptions about public speech? Or is the same colonial desire of control which is permeating the most progressive pronouncements of our jurisdiction? Is it moving towards a participatory, diverse and independent Public Sphere, or something which appears close enough to free discussion, but really is carefully monitored to produced “socially relevant” content, whereby what is relevant is defined through a complicated State apparatus? As our speech laws move to the Internet Age, these are some questions we must ask if the hope for the law is to enable involved, democratic citizenry, rather than a colonial-flavoured Internet public.

References

[1] Judgement accessed from http://supremecourtofindia.nic.in/FileServer/2015-03-24_1427183283.pdf.

[2] Stein, Laura. 2006. Speech rights in America: The First Amendment, Democracy, and the Media. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

[3] Judgement accessed from http://indiankanoon.org/doc/539407/.

[4] Judgement accessed from http://indiankanoon.org/doc/1327342/.

[5] 250 US 616 (1919).

[6] 521 U.S. 844 (1997).

[7] Bhatia, Gautam. 2015. At the Heart of the Landmark 66A Ruling: The Crucial Distinction between Advocacy and Incitement. Scroll. March 25. Accessed from http://scroll.in/article/716034/at-the-heart-of-the-landmark-66a-ruling-the-crucial-distinction-between-advocacy-and-incitement.

[8] See: Liang, Lawrence. 2011. Reasonable Restrictions and Unreasonable Speech. InfoChange. Accessed from http://infochangeindia.org/agenda/freedom-of-expression/reasonable-restrictions-and-unreasonable-speech.html. Also see: Acharya, Bhairav. 2015. Free Speech Policy in India: Community, Custom, Censorship, and the Future of Internet Regulation. May 06. Accessed from http://notacoda.net/2015/05/06/free-speech-policy-in-india-community-custom-censorship-and-the-future-of-internet-regulation/.

[9] Dhavan, Rajeev. 2009. Moral Consensus in a Law and Order Society. In Aravind Rajagopal (ed.), The Indian Public Sphere. Oxford University Press. Pp. 92-93.

[10] See the discussion in the previous section of this essay.

The post is published under Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International license, and copyright is retained by the author.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/raw/blog_governing-speech-on-the-internet

Google Policy Fellowship Programme: Call for Applications

praskrishna — 2012-05-24T15:38:28Z

The Centre for Internet & Society (CIS) is inviting applications for the Google Policy Fellowship programme. Google is providing a USD 7,500 stipend to the India Fellow, who will be selected by August 15, 2012.

The Google Policy Fellowship offers successful candidates an opportunity to develop research and debate on the fellowship focus areas, which include Access to Knowledge, Openness in India, Freedom of Expression, Privacy, and Telecom, for a period of about ten weeks starting from August 2012 upto October 2012. CIS will select the India Fellow. Send in your applications for the position by June 27, 2012.

To apply, please send to google.fellowship@cis-india.org the following materials:

Statement of Purpose: A brief write-up outlining about your interest and qualifications for the programme including the relevant academic, professional and extracurricular experiences. As part of the write-up, also explain on what you hope to gain from participation in the programme and what research work concerning free expression online you would like to further through this programme. (About 1200 words max).
Resume
Three references

Fellowship Focus Areas

Access to Knowledge: Studies looking at access to knowledge issues in India in light of copyright law, consumers law, parallel imports and the interplay between pervasive technologies and intellectual property rights, targeted at policymakers, Members of Parliament, publishers, photographers, filmmakers, etc.
Openness in India: Studies with policy recommendations on open access to scholarly literature, free access to law, open content, open standards, free and open source software, aimed at policymakers, policy researchers, academics and the general public.
Freedom of Expression: Studies on policy, regulatory and legislative issues concerning censorship and freedom of speech and expression online, aimed at bloggers, journalists, authors and the general public.
Privacy: Studies on privacy issues like data protection and the right to information, limits to privacy in light of the provisions of the constitution, media norms and privacy, banking and financial privacy, workplace privacy, privacy and wire-tapping, e-governance and privacy, medical privacy, consumer privacy, etc., aimed at policymakers and the public.
Telecom: Building awareness and capacity on telecommunication policy in India for researchers and academicians, policymakers and regulators, consumer and civil society organisations, education and library institutions and lay persons through the creation of a dedicated web based resource focusing on knowledge dissemination.

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the Google Policy Fellowship program?
The Google Policy Fellowship program offers students interested in Internet and technology related policy issues with an opportunity to spend their summer working on these issues at the Centre for Internet and Society at Bangalore. Students will work for a period of ten weeks starting from July 2012. The research agenda for the program is based on legal and policy frameworks in the region connected to the ground-level perceptions of the fellowship focus areas mentioned above.

I am an International student can I apply and participate in the program? Are there any age restrictions on participating?
Yes. You must be 18 years of age or older by January 1, 2012 to be eligible to participate in Google Policy Fellowship program in 2012.

Are there citizenship requirements for the Fellowship?
For the time being, we are only accepting students eligible to work in India (e.g. Indian citizens, permanent residents of India, and individuals presently holding an Indian student visa. Google cannot provide guidance or assistance on obtaining the necessary documentation to meet the criteria.

Who is eligible to participate as a student in Google Policy Fellowship program?
In order to participate in the program, you must be a student. Google defines a student as an individual enrolled in or accepted into an accredited institution including (but not necessarily limited to) colleges, universities, masters programs, PhD programs and undergraduate programs. Eligibility is based on enrollment in an accredited university by January 1, 2012.

I am an International student can I apply and participate in the program?
In order to participate in the program, you must be a student (see Google's definition of a student above). You must also be eligible to work in India (see section on citizen requirements for fellowship above). Google cannot provide guidance or assistance on obtaining the necessary documentation to meet this criterion.
I have been accepted into an accredited post-secondary school program, but have not yet begun attending. Can I still take part in the program?
As long as you are enrolled in a college or university program as of January 1, 2012, you are eligible to participate in the program.
I graduate in the middle of the program. Can I still participate?
As long as you are enrolled in a college or university program as of January 1, 2012, you are eligible to participate in the program.

Payments, Forms, and Other Administrative Stuff

How do payments work?*

Google will provide a stipend of USD 7,500 equivalent to each Fellow for the summer.

Accepted students in good standing with their host organization will receive a USD 2,500 stipend payable shortly after they begin the Fellowship in August 2012.
Students who receive passing mid-term evaluations by their host organization will receive a USD 1,500 stipend shortly after the mid-term evaluation in September 2012.
Students who receive passing final evaluations by their host organization and who have submitted their final program evaluations will receive a USD 3,500 stipend shortly after final evaluations in October 2012.

Please note: Payments will be made by electronic bank transfer, and are contingent upon satisfactory evaluations by the host organization, completion of all required enrollment and other forms. Fellows are responsible for payment of any taxes associated with their receipt of the Fellowship stipend.

*While the three step payment structure given here corresponds to the one in the United States, disbursement of the amount may be altered as felt necessary.

What documentation is required from students?

Students should be prepared, upon request, to provide Google or the host organization with transcripts from their accredited institution as proof of enrollment or admission status. Transcripts do not need to be official (photo copy of original will be sufficient).

I would like to use the work I did for my Google Policy Fellowship to obtain course credit from my university. Is this acceptable?

Yes. If you need documentation from Google to provide to your school for course credit, you can contact Google. We will not provide documentation until we have received a final evaluation from your mentoring organization.

Host Organizations

What is Google's relationship with the Centre for Internet and Society?

Google provides the funding and administrative support for individual fellows directly. Google and the Centre for Internet and Society are not partners or affiliates. The Centre for Internet and Society does not represent the views or opinions of Google and cannot bind Google legally.

Important Dates

What is the program timeline?

June 27, 2012	Student Application Deadline. Applications must be received by midnight.
July 18, 2012	Student applicants are notified of the status of their applications.
August 2012	Students begin their fellowship with the host organization (start date to be determined by students and the host organization); Google issues initial student stipends.
September 2012	Mid-term evaluations; Google issues mid-term stipends.
October 2012	Final evaluations; Google issues final stipends.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/google-policy-fellowship

GNI and IAMAI Launch Interactive Slideshow Exploring Impact of India's Internet Laws

jyoti — 2014-07-17T12:01:01Z

The Global Network Initiative and the Internet and Mobile Association of India have come together to explain how India’s Internet and technology laws impact economic innovation and freedom of expression.

The Global Network Initiative (GNI), and the Internet and Mobile Association of India (IAMAI) have launched an interactive slide show exploring the impact of existing Internet laws on users and businesses in India. The slide show created by Newsbound, and to which Centre for Internet and Society (CIS) has contributed its comments—explain the existing legislative mechanisms prevalent in India, map the challenges of the regulatory environment and highlight areas where such mechanisms can be strengthened.

Foregrounding the difficulties of content regulation, the slides are aimed at informing users and the public of the constraints of current legal mechanisms in place, including safe harbour and take down and notice provisions. Highlighting Section 79(3) and the Intermediary Liability Rules issued in 2011, the slide show identifies some of the challenges faced by Internet platforms, such as the broad interpretation of the legislation by the executive branch.

Challenges governing Internet platforms highlighted in the slide show include uniform Terms of Service that do not consider the type of service being provided by the platform, uncertain requirements for taking down content and compliance obligations related to information disclosure. Further the issues of over compliance and misuse of the legal notice and take down system introduced under Section 79 of the Information Technology (Intermediaries Guidelines) Rules 2011.

The Rules were created with the purpose of providing guidelines for the ‘post-publication redressal mechanism expression as envisioned in the Constitution of India'. However, since their introduction, the Rules have been criticised extensively, by both the national and the international media on account of not conforming to principles of natural justice and freedom of expression. Critics have pointed out that by not recognising the different functions performed by the different intermediaries and by not providing safeguards against misuse of such mechanism for suppressing legitimate expression, the Rules have a chilling effect on freedom of expression.

Under the current Rules, the third party provider/creator of information is not given a chance to be heard by the intermediary, nor is there a requirement to give a reasoned decision by the intermediary to the creator whose content has been taken down. The take down procedure also, does not have any provisions for restoring the removed information, such as providing a counter notice filing mechanism or appealing to a higher authority. Further, the content criteria for removal of content includes terms like 'disparaging' and 'objectionable', which are not defined and prima facie seem to be beyond the reasonable restrictions envisioned by the Constitution of India. With uncertainty in content criteria and no safeguards to prevent abuse complainant may send frivolous complaints and suppress legitimate expressions without any fear of repercussions.

Most importantly, the redressal mechanism under the Rules shifts the burden of censorship, previously, the exclusive domain of the judiciary or the executive, and makes it the responsibility of private intermediaries. Often, private intermediaries, do not have sufficient legal resources to subjectively determine the legitimacy of a legal claim, resulting in over compliance to limit liability. The slide show cites the 2011 CIS research carried out by Rishabh Dara to determine whether the Rules lead to a chilling effect on online free expression, towards highlighting the issue of over compliance and self censorship.

The initiative is timely, given the change of guard in India, and stresses, not only the economic impact of fixing the Internet legal framework, but also the larger impact on users rights and freedom of expression. The initiative calls for a legal environment for the Internet that enables innovation, protects the rights of users, and provides clear rules and regulations for businesses large and small.

See the slideshow here: How India’s Internet Laws Can Help Propel the Country Forward

Other GNI reports and resources:

Closing the Gap: Indian Online Intermediaries and a Liability System Not Yet Fit for Purpose

Strengthening Protections for Online Platforms Could Add Billions to India’s GDP

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/gni-and-iamai-launch-interactive-slideshow-exploring-impact-of-indias-internet-laws

Girls arrested for Facebook post on Thackeray get bail

praskrishna — 2012-11-30T05:18:30Z

Two girls who were arrested for making a Facebook comment protesting the closure of shops in the wake of Shiv Sena supremo Bal Thackeray‘s death, have been released on bail bonds of Rs 15,000 each.

This article was published in the FirstPost on November 19, 2012. Pranesh Prakash is quoted.

The duo, one of whom had reportedly updated her Facebook status to read “People like Thackeray are born and die daily and one should not observe a bandh for that” and the other one who ‘liked’ it, were initially booked under section 295A (hurting the religious sentiment of others) and were reportedly remanded to judicial custody for 14 days, NDTV reported.

The two girls were arrested after a complaint made to the Palghar police station in neighbouring Thane district by a local Sena leader.

A group of Shiv Sainiks attacked and ransacked the girl’s uncle’s orthopaedic clinic at Palghar, even though she withdrew her comment and apologised.

In comments to Firstpost, Pranesh Prakash of the Centre for Internet and Society, said that the arrest was a gross misapplication of the Indian Penal Code, and said that this particular provision had been misused on multiple occasions by the state of Maharashtra.

“What makes this seem ironic, and almost a parodic news report, is the fact that Bal Thackeray probably violated this provision more times than most other politicians, but was only charged under it once or twice”, he said.

The arrest has predictably elicited outrage from across the spectrum. Many took to social media to express their disgust, while NDTV reported that Maharashtra police HQ in Mumbai was very upset with the action taken by the Palghar police.

Press Council of India Chairman Markandey Katju had also called for the immediate release of the girls and wrote to Maharashtra Chief Minister Prithviraj Chavan asking him to ensure it.

Pointing out that people were not living under a fascist dictatorship, he said that the act of arrest appeared to be a criminal act since it was a violation under sections of the Indian Penal Code to wrongfully arrest or confine anyone.

The PCI chief said that legal consequences would follow if the Chief Minister failed to take action.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/news/first-post-nov-19-2012-girls-arrested-for-facebook-post-on-thackeray-get-bail

Girl's arrest draws flak on social media

praskrishna — 2012-11-20T11:04:27Z

The arrest of a 21-year-old girl by Mumbai police for criticizing the shutting down of the city following the death of Bal Thackeray come under fire from netizens.

Arun Dev's article was published in the Times of India on November 20, 2012. Pranesh Prakash is quoted.

Many tweets and Facebook posts popped up soon after the news of her arrest played on TV and social media networks, some even reposting what she first posted on her page.

Pranesh Prakash, programme manager, Centre for Internet and Society, told TOI this case was a clear case of misapplication of Section 295A of the Indian Penal Code. "This provision has been frivolously used numerous times in Maharashtra. Even the banning of James Laine's book, 'Shivaji: Hindu King in Islamic India', happened this section. The ban was subsequently deemed unlawful by both the Bombay high court and the Supreme Court. Indeed, Section 295A has not been applied in cases where it's more apparent," he said.

On the CIS blog, he commented, "Interestingly, the question arises of the law under which the friend who 'liked' the Facebook status update was arrested. It would take a highly clever lawyer and a highly credulous judge to make 'liking' of a Facebook status update an act capable of being charged with electronically sending ... any information that is grossly offensive or has menacing character".

"It is absolutely ridiculous. Regardless of the fact she was given bail, she was sent to 14 days of judicial custody for a mere comment. We have allowed our social media to be free and open but we have laws which are ancient," said Lawrence Liang, a lawyer working on media laws with the Alternative Law Forum in Bangalore. "Such cases don't stand a chance in a court of law. We need procedural safeguards which will ensure cases which are not relevant are not be allowed to be filed," he added.

The open letter to the chief minister of the Maharashtra by Justice Katju, Chairman, Press Council of India, and former Judge, Supreme Court of India too was widely circulated on social media. Some posted this excerpt: "We are living in a democracy, not a fascist dictatorship. In fact this arrest itself appears to be a criminal act since under sections 341 and 342 it is a crime to wrongfully arrest or wrongfully confine someone who has committed no crime."

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/news/times-of-india-arun-dev-nov-20-2012-girl-arrest-draws-flak-on-social-media

Game release cancelled over gay character

praskrishna — 2014-11-22T00:24:32Z

Electronic Arts stops accepting preorders for Dragon Age: Inquisition.

The article by Jaison Lewis was published in Mumbai Mirror on November 19, 2014. Pranesh Prakash gave his inputs.

In a city where just about any kid above the age of five who can afford to do so has played Grand Theft Auto, with its profusion of violence and profanity, it appears unlikely that a game would ever be withdrawn from release owing to explicit content. But when Electronic Arts (EA), creators of several such titles, decide to cancel the release of a game in India because it features a gay character and sequences of gay sex, there are bound to be fiery debates about censorship, moral policing, and the prevalence of gratuitous violence in games.

EA have withdrawn pre-orders for Dragon Age: Inquisition, a role playing franchise in which you play a character that you create - one such role is that of Dorian, who is gay and who is featured in sequences involving gay sex. EA is now in the process of refunding the money (Rs 3,499 for the standard edition (PC) and Rs 4,000 for the collectors' edition (PC)) that gamers in India paid to have access to Dragon Age when it is released on November 21.

Milestone Interactive, the company that distributes EA titles in India, has cancelled several pre-orders for the game that were booked through their website. However, a bulk of the PC pre-orders were made on EA's Origin software, a Windows application that lets gamers buy and play games directly from the company. Electronic Arts issued the following official statement to its Origin users in India, Bangladesh and Pakistan. "In order to avoid a breach of local content laws, EA has withdrawn Dragon Age: Inquisition from sale in India and the game is no longer available for pre-order. Customers who pre-ordered the game will be contacted directly and will be fully refunded."

Though the local laws that applied were not mentioned, several online websites managed to obtain reactions from EA that implied the game's homosexual content was to blame, with mention of Section 377, which criminalises gay sex.

The Entertainment Software Rating Board (ESRB), a self-regulatory organisation based in New York, has classified Dragon Age as Mature, and, according to their online rating information, it "includes some sexual material: a female character briefly depicted in front of a man's torso (fellatio is implied); characters depicted topless or with exposed buttocks while lying in bed or after sex; some dialogue referencing sex/sexuality. The words "f**k," "sh*t," and "a*shole" appear in dialogue."

LGBT rights activist Aditya Bandopadhyay, said he believes EA could have withdrawn the game under pressure from the government.

"Self-censorship by corporations is even more insidious than censorship by the government, since the latter can be challenged in courts and has to abide within the limits set out within Article 19 of the Constitution, the former cannot be challenged at all except morally, "said Pranesh Prakash, member, The centre for internet and society.

"There can be no defence offered to the offensive instance of self-censorship by Electronic Arts, and is a slap against the fight by the LGBTQ community in India against oppressive colonial laws and mores. As Vikram Seth put it, it is homophobia that came into India, not homosexuality. It is homophobia that is unnatural and which militates against Indian morality. Under Article 19(1)(a), the government can be read to have a positive obligation to ensure an environment where freedom of speech and expression is guaranteed, so I call upon the government to speak out against the decision taken by Electronic Arts, " added Prakash.

"By way of legal background: Homosexuality as a gender identity is not illegal in India, while there is a case pending in the Supreme Court as to the criminality of engaging in 'unnatural' sexual intercourse. This law cannot possibly be read to hold that the public display of homosexuality in art is unlawful," he said

EA representatives were unwilling to discuss the game or the reasons for it being withdrawn from the market in India. "We are going to decline any further info beyond our statement," a spokesperson said.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/news/mumbai-mirror-november-19-2014-jaison-lewis-game-release-cancelled-over-gay-character

Free Speech Policy in India: Community, Custom, Censorship, and the Future of Internet Regulation

bhairav — 2015-08-23T10:12:16Z

This note summarises my panel contribution to the conference on Freedom of Expression in a Digital Age at New Delhi on 21 April 2015, which was organised by the Observer Research Foundation (ORF) and the Centre for Internet and Society (CIS) in collaboration with the Internet Policy Observatory of the Center for Global Communication Studies (CGCS) at the Annenberg School for Communication, University of Pennsylvania

Download the Note here (PDF, 103 Kb)

Preliminary

There has been legitimate happiness among many in India at the Supreme Court’s recent decision in the Shreya Singhal case to strike down section 66A of the Information Technology Act, 2000 ("IT Act") for unconstitutionally fettering the right to free speech on the Internet. The judgment is indeed welcome, and reaffirms the Supreme Court’s proud record of defending the freedom of speech, although it declined to interfere with the government’s stringent powers of website blocking. As the dust settles there are reports the government is re-grouping to introduce fresh law, allegedly stronger to secure easier convictions, to compensate the government’s defeat.

Case Law and Government Policy

India’s constitutional courts have a varied history of negotiating the freedom of speech that justifiably demands study. But, in my opinion, inadequate attention is directed to the government’s history of free speech policy. It is possible to discern from the government’s actions over the last two centuries a relatively consistent narrative of governance that seeks to bend the individual’s right to speech to its will. The defining characteristics of this narrative – the government’s free speech policy – emerge from a study of executive and legislative decisions chiefly in relation to the press, that continue to shape policy regarding the freedom of expression on the Internet.

India’s corpus of free speech case law is not uniform nor can it be since, for instance, the foundational issues that attend hate speech are quite different from those that inform contempt of court. So too, Indian free speech policy has been varied, captive to political compulsions and disparate views regarding the interests of the community, governance and nation-building. There has been consistent tension between the individual and the community, as well as the role of the government in enforcing the expectations of the community when thwarted by law.

Dichotomy between Modern and Native Law

To understand free speech policy, it is useful to go back to the early colonial period in India, when Governor-General Warren Hastings established a system of courts in Bengal’s hinterland to begin the long process of displacing traditional law to create a modern legal system. By most accounts, pre-modern Indian law was not prescriptive, Austinian, and uniform. Instead, there were several legal systems and a variety of competing and complementary legal sources that supported different interpretations of law within most legal systems. J. Duncan M. Derrett notes that the colonial expropriation of Indian law was marked by a significant tension caused by the repeatedly-stated objective of preserving some fields of native law to create a dichotomous legal structure. These efforts were assisted by orientalist jurists such as Henry Thomas Colebrook whose interpretation of the dharmasastras heralded a new stage in the evolution of Hindu law.

In this background, it is not surprising that Elijah Impey, a close associate of Hastings, simultaneously served as the first Chief Justice of the Supreme Court at Fort William while overseeing the Sadr Diwani Adalat, a civil court applying Anglo-Hindu law for Hindus, and the Sadr Faujdari Adalat, a criminal court applying Anglo-Islamic law to all natives. By the mid-nineteenth century, this dual system came under strain in the face of increasing colonial pressure to rationalise the legal system to ensure more effective governance, and native protest at the perceived insensitivity of the colonial government to local customs.

Criminal Law and Free Speech in the Colony

In 1837, Thomas Macaulay wrote the first draft of a new comprehensive criminal law to replace indigenous law and custom with statutory modern law. When it was enacted as the Indian Penal Code in 1860 ("IPC"), it represented the apogee of the new colonial effort to recreate the common law in India. The IPC’s enactment coincided with the growth and spread of both the press and popular protest in India. The statute contained the entire gamut of public-order and community-interest crimes to punish unlawful assembly, rioting, affray, wanton provocation, public nuisance, obscenity, defiling a place of worship, disturbing a religious assembly, wounding religious feelings, and so on. It also criminalised private offences such as causing insult, annoyance, and intimidation. These crimes continue to be invoked in India today to silence individual opinion and free speech, including on the Internet. Section 66A of the IT Act utilised a very similar vocabulary of censorship.

Interestingly, Macaulay’s IPC did not feature the common law offences of sedition and blasphemy or the peculiar Indian crime of promoting inter-community enmity; these were added later. Sedition was criminalised by section 124A at the insistence of Barnes Peacock and applied successfully against Indian nationalist leaders including Bal Gangadhar Tilak in 1897 and 1909, and Mohandas Gandhi in 1922. In 1898, the IPC was amended again to incorporate section 153A to criminalise the promotion of enmity between different communities by words or deeds. And, in 1927, a more controversial amendment inserted section 295A into the IPC to criminalise blasphemy. All three offences have been recently used in India against writers, bloggers, professors, and ordinary citizens.

Loss of the Right to Offend

The two amendments of 1898 and 1927, which together proscribed the promotion of inter-community enmity and blasphemy, represent the dismantling of the right to offend in India. But, oddly, they were defended by the colonial government in the interests of native sensibilities. The proceedings of the Imperial Legislative Council reveal several members, including Indians, were enthusiastic about the amendments. For some, the amendments were a necessary corrective action to protect community honour from subversive speech. The 1920s were a period of foment in India as the freedom movement intensified and communal tension mounted. In this environment, it was easy to fuse the colonial interest in strong administration with a nationalist narrative that demanded the retrieval of Indian custom to protect native sensibilities from being offended by individual free speech, a right derived from modern European law. No authoritative jurist could be summoned to prove or refute the claim that native custom privileged community honour.

Sadly the specific incident which galvanised the amendment of 1927, which established the crime of blasphemy in India, would not appear unfamiliar to a contemporary observer. Mahashay Rajpal, an Arya Samaj activist, published an offensive pamphlet of the Prophet Muhammad titled Rangeela Rasool, for which he was arrested and tried but acquitted in the absence of specific blasphemy provisions. With his speech being found legal, Rajpal was released and given police protection but Ilam Din, a Muslim youth, stabbed him to death. Instead of supporting its criminal law and strengthening its police forces to implement the decisions of its courts, the colonial administration surrendered to the threat of public disorder and enacted section 295A of the IPC.

Protest and Community Honour

The amendment of 1927 marks an important point of rupture in the history of Indian free speech. It demonstrated the government’s policy intention of overturning the courts to restrict the individual’s right to speech when faced with public protest. In this way, the combination of public disorder and the newly-created crimes of promoting inter-community enmity and blasphemy opened the way for the criminal justice system to be used as a tool by natives to settle their socio-cultural disputes. Both these crimes address group offence; they do not redress individual grievances. In so far as they are designed to endorse group honour, these crimes signify the community’s attempt to suborn modern law and individual rights.

Almost a century later, the Rangeela Rasool affair has become the depressing template for illegal censorship in India: fringe groups take offence at permissible speech, crowds are marshalled to articulate an imagined grievance, and the government capitulates to the threat of violence. This formula has become so entrenched that governance has grown reflexively suppressive, quick to silence speech even before the perpetrators of lumpen violence can receive affront. This is especially true of online speech, where censorship is driven by the additional anxiety brought by the difficulty of Internet regulation. In this race to be offended the government plays the parochial referee, acting to protect indigenous sensibilities from subversive but legal speech.

The Censorious Post-colony

Independence marked an opportunity to remake Indian governance in a freer image. The Constituent Assembly had resolved not to curb the freedom of speech in Article 19(1)(a) of the Constitution on account of public order. In two cases from opposite ends of the country where right-wing and left-wing speech were punished by local governments on public order grounds, the Supreme Court acted on the Constituent Assembly’s vision and struck down the laws in question. Free speech, it appeared, would survive administrative concerns, thanks to the guarantee of a new constitution and an independent judiciary. Instead Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru and his cabinet responded with the First Amendment in 1951, merely a year after the Constitution was enacted, to create three new grounds of censorship, including public order. In 1963, a year before he demitted office, the Sixteenth Amendment added an additional restriction.

Nehru did not stop at amending the Constitution, he followed shortly after with a concerted attempt to stage-manage the press by de-legitimising certain kinds of permissible speech.

Under Justice G. S. Rajadhyaksha, the government constituted the First Press Commission which attacked yellow journalism, seemingly a sincere concern, but included permissible albeit condemnable speech that was directed at communities, indecent or vulgar, and biased. Significantly, the Commission expected the press to only publish speech that conformed to the developmental and social objectives of the government. In other words, Nehru wanted the press to support his vision of India and used the imperative of nation-building to achieve this goal. So, the individual right to offend communities was taken away by law and policy, and speech that dissented from the government’s socio-economic and political agenda was discouraged by policy. Coupled with the new constitutional ground of censorship on account of public order, the career of free speech in independent India began uncertainly.

How to regulate permissible speech?

Despite the many restrictions imposed by law on free speech, Indian free speech policy has long been engaged with the question of how to regulate the permissible speech that survives constitutional scrutiny. This was significantly easier in colonial India. In 1799, Governor-General Richard Wellesley, the brother of the famous Duke of Wellington who defeated Napoleon at Waterloo, instituted a pre-censorship system to create what Rajeev Dhavan calls a “press by permission” marked by licensed publications, prior restraint, subsequent censorship, and harsh penalties. A new colonial regime for strict control over the publication of free speech was enacted in the form of the Press and Registration of Books Act, 1867, the preamble of which recognises that “the literature of a country is…an index of…the condition of [its] people”. The 1867 Act was diluted after independence but still remains alive in the form of the Registrar of Newspapers.

After surviving Indira Gandhi’s demand for a committed press and the depredations of her regime during the Emergency, India’s press underwent the examination of the Second Press Commission. This was appointed in 1978 under the chairmanship of Justice P. K. Goswami, a year after the Janata government released the famous White Paper on Misuse of Mass Media. When Gandhi returned to power, Justice Goswami resigned and the Commission was reconstituted under Justice K. K. Mathew. In 1982, the Commission’s report endorsed the earlier First Press Commission’s call for conformist speech, but went further by proposing the appointment of a press regulator invested with inspection powers; criminalising attacks on the government; re-interpreting defamation law to encompass democratic criticism of public servants; retaining stringent official secrecy law; and more. It was quickly acted upon by Rajiv Gandhi through his infamous Defamation Bill.

The contours of future Internet regulation

The juggernaut of Indian free speech policy has received temporary setbacks, mostly inflicted by the Supreme Court. Past experience shows us that governments with strong majorities – whether Jawaharlal Nehru’s following independence or Indira Gandhi’s in the 1970s – act on their administrative impulses to impede free speech by government policy. The Internet is a recent and uncontrollable medium of speech that attracts disproportionately heavy regulatory attention. Section 66A of the IT Act may be dead but several other provisions remain to harass and punish online free speech. Far from relaxing its grip on divergent opinions, the government appears poised for more incisive invasions of personal freedoms.

I do not believe the contours of future speech regulation on the Internet need to be guessed at, they can be derived from the last two centuries of India’s free speech policy. When section 66A is replaced – and it will be, whether overtly by fresh statutory provisions or stealthily by policy and non-justiciable committees and commissions – it will be through a regime that obeys the mandate of the First Press Commission to discourage dissenting and divergent speech while adopting the regulatory structures of the Second Press Commission to permit a limited inspector raj and forbid attacks on personalities. The interests of the community, howsoever improperly articulated, will seek precedence over individual freedoms and the accompanying threat of violence will give new meaning to Bhimrao Ambedkar’s warning of the “grammar of anarchy”.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/policy-in-india-community-custom-censorship-and-future-of-internet-regulation

Free Speech and Surveillance

Gautam Bhatia — 2014-07-07T04:59:59Z

Gautam Bhatia examines the constitutionality of surveillance by the Indian state.

The Indian surveillance regime has been the subject of discussion for quite some time now. Its nature and scope is controversial. The Central Monitoring System, through which the government can obtain direct access to call records, appears to have the potential to be used for bulk surveillance, although official claims emphasise that it will only be implemented in a targeted manner. The Netra system, on the other hand, is certainly about dragnet collection, since it detects the communication, via electronic media, of certain “keywords” (such as “attack”, “bomb”, “blast” and “kill”), no matter what context they are used in, and no matter who is using them.

Surveillance is quintessentially thought to raise concerns about privacy. Over a series of decisions, the Indian Supreme Court has read in the right to privacy into Article 21’s guarantee of the right to life and personal liberty. Under the Supreme Court’s (somewhat cloudy) precedents, privacy may only be infringed if there is a compelling State interest, and if the restrictive law is narrowly tailored – that is, it does not infringe upon rights to an extent greater than it needs to, in order to fulfill its goal. It is questionable whether bulk surveillance meets these standards.

Surveillance, however, does not only involve privacy rights. It also implicated Article 19 – in particular, the Article 19(1)(a) guarantee of the freedom of expression, and the 19(1)(c) guarantee of the freedom of association.

Previously on this blog, we have discussed the “chilling effect” in relation to free speech. The chilling effect evolved in the context of defamation cases, where a combination of exacting standards of proof, and prohibitive damages, contributed to create a culture of self-censorship, where people would refrain from voicing even legitimate criticism for fear of ruinous defamation lawsuits. The chilling effect, however, is not restricted merely to defamation, but arises in free speech cases more generally, where vague and over-broad statutes often leave the border of the permitted and the prohibited unclear.

Indeed, a few years before it decided New York Times v. Sullivan, which brought in the chilling effect doctrine into defamation and free speech law, the American Supreme Court applies a very similar principle in a surveillance case. In NAACP v. Alabama, the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People (NAACP), which was heavily engaged in the civil rights movement in the American deep South, was ordered by the State of Alabama to disclose its membership list. NAACP challenged this, and the Court held in its favour. It specifically connected freedom of speech, freedom of association, and the impact of surveillance upon both:

“Effective advocacy of both public and private points of view, particularly controversial ones, is undeniably enhanced by group association, as this Court has more than once recognized by remarking upon the close nexus between the freedoms of speech and assembly. It is beyond debate that freedom to engage in association for the advancement of beliefs and ideas is an inseparable aspect of the “liberty” assured by the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, which embraces freedom of speech. Of course, it is immaterial whether the beliefs sought to be advanced by association pertain to political, economic, religious or cultural matters, and state action which may have the effect of curtailing the freedom to associate is subject to the closest scrutiny… it is hardly a novel perception that compelled disclosure of affiliation with groups engaged in advocacy may constitute [an] effective a restraint on freedom of association… this Court has recognized the vital relationship between freedom to associate and privacy in one’s associations. Inviolability of privacy in group association may in many circumstances be indispensable to preservation of freedom of association, particularly where a group espouses dissident beliefs.”

In other words, if persons are not assured of privacy in their association with each other, they will tend to self-censor both who they associate with, and what they say to each other, especially when unpopular groups, who have been historically subject to governmental or social persecution, are involved. Indeed, this was precisely the argument that the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) made in its constitutional challenge to PRISM, the American bulk surveillance program. In addition to advancing a Fourth Amendment argument from privacy, the ACLU also made a First Amendment freedom of speech and association claim, arguing that the knowledge of bulk surveillance had made – or at least, was likely to have made – politically unpopular groups wary of contacting it for professional purposes (the difficulty, of course, is that any chilling effect argument effectively requires proving a negative).

If this argument holds, then it is clear that Articles 19(1)(a) and 19(1)(c) are prima facie infringed in cases of bulk – or even other forms of – surveillance. Two conclusions follow: first, that any surveillance regime needs statutory backing. Under Article 19(2), reasonable restrictions upon fundamental rights can only be imposed by law, and not be executive fiat (the same argument applies to Article 21 as well).

Assuming that a statutory framework is brought into force, the crucial issue then becomes whether the restriction is a reasonable one, in service of one of the stated 19(2) interests. The relevant part of Article 19(2) permits reasonable restrictions upon the freedom of speech and expression “in the interests of… the security of the State [and] public order.” The Constitution does not, however, provide a test for determining when a restriction can be legitimately justified as being “in the interests of” the security of the State, and of public order. There is not much relevant precedent with respect to the first sub-clause, but there happens to be an extensive – although conflicted – jurisprudence dealing with the public order exception.

One line of cases – characterised by Ramji Lal Modi v. State of UP and Virendra v. State of Punjab – has held that the phrase “for the interests of” is of very wide ambit, and that the government has virtually limitless scope to make laws ostensibly for securing public order (this extends to prior restraint as well, something that Blackstone, writing in the 18^th century, found to be illegal!). The other line of cases, such as Superintendent v. Ram Manohar Lohia and S. Rangarajan v. P. Jagjivan Ram, have required the government to satisfy a stringent burden of proof. In Lohia, for instance, Ram Manohar Lohia’s conviction for encouraging people to break a tax law was reversed, the Court holding that the relationship between restricting free speech and a public order justification must be “proximate”. In Rangarajan, the Court used the euphemistic image of a “spark in a powder keg”, to characterise the degree of proximity required. It is evident that under the broad test of Ramji Lal Modi, a bulk surveillance system is likely to be upheld, whereas under the narrow test of Lohia, it is almost certain not to be.

Thus, if the constitutionality of surveillance comes to Court, three issues will need to be decided: first, whether Articles 19(1)(a) and 19(1)(c) have been violated. Secondly – and if so – whether the “security of the State” exception is subject to the same standards as the “public order” exception (there is no reason why it should not be). And thirdly, which of the two lines of precedent represent the correct understanding of Article 19(2)?

Gautam Bhatia — @gautambhatia88 on Twitter — is a graduate of the National Law School of India University (2011), and has just received an LLM from the Yale Law School. He blogs about the Indian Constitution at http://indconlawphil.wordpress.com. Here at CIS, he blogs on issues of online freedom of speech and expression.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/free-speech-and-surveillance

Free Speech and Civil Defamation

gautam — 2014-07-08T08:31:18Z

Does defamation become a tool in powerful hands to suppress criticism? Gautam Bhatia examines the strict and unrealistic demands of defamation law, and concludes that defamation suits are a weapon to silence dissent and bad press.

Previously on this blog, we have discussed one of the under-analysed aspects of Article 19(2) – contempt of court. In the last post, we discussed the checking – or “watchdog” – function of the press. There is yet another under-analysed part of 19(2) that we now turn to – one which directly implicates the press, in its role as public watchdog. This is the issue of defamation.

Unlike contempt of court – which was a last-minute insertion by Ambedkar, before the second reading of the draft Constitution in the Assembly – defamation was present in the restrictions clause since the Fundamental Rights Sub-Committee’s first draft, in 1947. Originally, it accompanied libel and slander, before the other two were dropped for the simpler “reasonable restrictions… in the interests of… defamation.” Unlike the other restrictions, which provoked substantial controversy, defamation did not provoke extended scrutiny by the Constituent Assembly.

In hindsight, that was a lapse. In recent years, defamation lawsuits have emerged as a powerful weapon against the press, used primarily by individuals and corporations in positions of power and authority, and invariably as a means of silencing criticism. For example, Hamish MacDonald’s The Polyester Prince, a book about the Ambanis, was unavailable in Indian bookshops, because of threats of defamation lawsuits. In January, Bloomsbury withdrew The Descent of Air India, which was highly critical of ex-Aviation Minister Praful Patel, after the latter filed a defamation lawsuit. Around the same time, Sahara initiated a 200 crore lawsuit against Tamal Bandyopadhayay, a journalist with The Mint, for his forthcoming book, Sahara: The Untold Story. Sahara even managed to get a stay order from a Calcutta High Court judge, who cited one paragraph from the book, and ruled that “Prima facie, the materials do seem to show the plaintiffs in poor light.” The issue has since been settled out of Court. Yet there is no guarantee that Bandyopadhyay would have won on merits, even with the absurd amount claimed as damages, given that a Pune Court awarded damages of Rs. 100 crores to former Justice P.B. Sawant against the Times Group, for a fifteen-second clip by a TV channel that accidentally showed his photograph next to the name of a judge who was an accused in a scam. What utterly takes the cake, though, is Infosys serving legal notices to three journalistic outlets recently, asking for damages worth Rs. 200 crore for “loss of reputation and goodwill due to circulation of defamatory articles.”

Something is very wrong here. The plaintiffs are invariably politicians or massive corporate houses, and the defendants are invariably journalists or newspapers. The subject is always critical reporting. The damages claimed (and occasionally, awarded) are astronomical – enough to cripple or destroy any business – and the actual harm is speculative. A combination of these factors, combined with a broken judicial system in which trials take an eternity to progress, leading to the prospect of a lawsuit hanging perpetually over one’s head, and financial ruin just around the corner, clearly has the potential to create a highly effective chilling effect upon newspapers, when it come to critical speech on matters of public interest.

One of the reasons that this happens, of course, is that extant defamation law allows it to happen. Under defamation law, as long as a statement is published, is defamatory (that is, tending to lower the reputation of the plaintiff in the minds of reasonable people) and refers to the plaintiff, a prima facie case of defamation is made out. The burden then shifts to the defendant to argue a justification, such as truth, or fair comment, or privileged communication. Notice that defamation, in this form, is a strict liability offence: that is, the publisher cannot save himself even if he has taken due care in researching and writing his story. Even an inadvertent factual error can result in liability. Furthermore, there are many things that straddle a very uncomfortable barrier between “fact” and “opinion” (“opinions” are generally not punishable for defamation): for example, if I call you “corrupt”, have I made a statement of fact, or one of opinion? Much of reporting – especially political reporting – falls within this slipstream.

The legal standard of defamation, therefore, puts almost all the burden upon the publisher, a burden that will often be impossible to discharge – as well as potentially penalising the smallest error. Given the difficulty in fact-checking just about everything, as well as the time pressures under which journalists operate, this is an unrealistic standard. What makes things even worse, however, is that there is no cap on damages, and that the plaintiff need not even demonstrate actual harm in making his claims. Judges have the discretion to award punitive damages, which are meant to serve both as an example and as a deterrent. When Infosys claims 2000 crores, therefore, it need not show that there has been a tangible drop in its sales, or that it has lost an important and lucrative contract – let alone showing that the loss was caused by the defamatory statement. All it needs to do is make abstract claims about loss of goodwill and reputation, which are inherently difficult to verify either way, and it stands a fair chance of winning.

A combination of onerous legal standards and crippling amounts in damages makes the defamation regime a very difficult one for journalists to operate freely in. We have discussed before the crucial role that journalists play in a system of free speech whose underlying foundation is the maintenance of democracy: a free press is essential to maintaining a check upon the actions of government and other powerful players, by subjecting them to scrutiny and critique, and ensuring that the public is aware of important facts that government might be keen to conceal. In chilling journalistic speech, therefore, defamation laws strike at the heart of Article 19(1)(a). When considering what the appropriate standards ought to be, a Court therefore must consider the simple fact that if defamation – as it stands today – is compromising the core of 19(1)(a) itself, then it is certainly not a “reasonable restriction” under 19(2) (some degree of proportionality is an important requirement for 19(2) reasonableness, as the Court has held many times).

This is not, however, a situation unique to India. In Singapore, for instance, “[political] leaders have won hundreds of thousands of dollars in damages in defamation cases against critics and foreign publications, which they have said are necessary to protect their reputations from unfounded attacks” – the defamation lawsuit, indeed, was reportedly a legal strategy used by Lee Kuan Yew against political opponents.

Particularly in the United States, the European Union and South Africa, however, this problem has been recognised, and acted upon. In the next post, we shall examine some of the legal techniques used in those jurisdictions, to counter the chilling effect that strict defamation laws can have on the press.

We discussed the use of civil defamation laws as weapons to stifle a free and critical press. One of the most notorious of such instances also birthed one of the most famous free speech cases in history: New York Times v. Sullivan. This was at the peak of the civil rights movement in the American South, which was accompanied by widespread violence and repression of protesters and civil rights activists. A full-page advertisement was taken out in the New York Times, titled Heed Their Rising Voices, which detailed some particularly reprehensible acts by the police in Montgomery, Alabama. It also contained some factual errors. For example, the advertisement mentioned that Martin Luther King Jr. had been arrested seven times, whereas he had only been arrested four times. It also stated that the Montgomery police had padlocked students into the university dining hall, in order to starve them into submission. That had not actually happened. On this basis, Sullivan, the Montgomery police commissioner, sued for libel. The Alabama courts awarded 500,000 dollars in damages. Because five other people in a situation similar to Sullivan were also suing, the total amount at stake was three million dollars – enough to potentially boycott the New York Times, and certainly enough to stop it from publishing about the civil rights movement.

In his book about the Sullivan case, Make No Law, Anthony Lewis notes that the stakes in the case were frighteningly high. The civil rights movement depended, for its success, upon stirring public opinion in the North. The press was just the vehicle to do it, reporting as it did on excessive police brutality against students and peaceful protesters, practices of racism and apartheid, and so on. Sullivan was a legal strategy to silence the press, and its weapon of choice was defamation law.

In a 9 – 0 decision, the Supreme Court found for the New York Times, and changed the face of free speech law (and, according to Lewis, saved the civil rights movement). Writing for the majority, Justice Brennan made the crucial point that in order to survive, free speech needed “breathing space” – that is, the space to make errors. Under defamation law, as it stood, “the pall of fear and timidity imposed upon those who would give voice to public criticism [is] an atmosphere in which the First Amendment freedoms cannot survive.” And under the burden of proving truth, “would-be critics of official conduct may be deterred from voicing their criticism, even though it is believed to be true and even though it is, in fact, true, because of doubt whether it can be proved in court or fear of the expense of having to do so. They tend to make only statements which "steer far wider of the unlawful zone." For these reasons, Justice Brennan laid down an “actual malice” test for defamation – that is, insofar as the statement in question concerned the conduct of a public official, it was actionable for defamation only if the publisher either knew it was false, or published it with “reckless disregard” for its veracity. After New York Times, this standard has expanded, and the press has never lost a defamation case.

There are some who argue that in its zeal to protect the press against defamation lawsuits by the powerful, the Sullivan court swung the opposite way. In granting the press a near-unqualified immunity to say whatever it wanted, it subordinated the legitimate interests of people to their reputation and their dignity to an intolerable degree, and ushered in a regime of media unaccountability. This is evidently what the South African courts felt. In Khulamo v. Holomisa, Justice O’Regan accepted that the common law of defamation would have to be altered so as to reflect the new South African Constitution’s guarantees of the freedom of speech. Much like Justice Brennan, she noted that “the media are important agents in ensuring that government is open, responsive and accountable to the people as the founding values of our Constitution require”, as well as the chilling effect in requiring journalists to prove the truth of everything they said. Nonetheless, she was not willing to go as far as the American Supreme Court did. Instead, she cited a previous decision by the Supreme Court of Appeals, and incorporated a “resonableness standard” into defamation law. That is, “if a publisher cannot establish the truth, or finds it disproportionately expensive or difficult to do so, the publisher may show that in all the circumstances the publication was reasonable. In determining whether publication was reasonable, a court will have regard to the individual’s interest in protecting his or her reputation in the context of the constitutional commitment to human dignity. It will also have regard to the individual’s interest in privacy. In that regard, there can be no doubt that persons in public office have a diminished right to privacy, though of course their right to dignity persists. It will also have regard to the crucial role played by the press in fostering a transparent and open democracy. The defence of reasonable publication avoids therefore a winner-takes-all result and establishes a proper balance between freedom of expression and the value of human dignity. Moreover, the defence of reasonable publication will encourage editors and journalists to act with due care and respect for the individual interest in human dignity prior to publishing defamatory material, without precluding them from publishing such material when it is reasonable to do so.”

The South African Constitutional Court thus adopts a middle path between the two opposite zero-sum games that are traditional defamation law, and American first amendment law. A similar effort was made in the United Kingdom – the birthplace of the common law of defamation – with the passage of the 2013 Defamation Act. Under English law, the plaintiff must now show that there is likely to be “serious harm” to his reputation, and there is also public interest exception.

While South Africa and the UK try to tackle the problem at the level of standards for defamation, the ECHR has taken another, equally interesting tack: by limiting the quantum of damages. In Tolstoy Milolasky v. United Kingdom, it found a 1.5 million pound damage award “disproportionately large”, and held that there was a violation of the ECHR’s free speech guarantee that could not be justified as necessary in a democratic society.

Thus, constitutional courts the world over have noticed the adverse impact traditional defamation law has on free speech and a free press. They have devised a multiplicity of ways to deal with this, some more speech-protective than others: from America’s absolutist standards, to South Africa’s “reasonableness” and the UK’s “public interest” exceptions, to the ECHR’s limitation of damages. It is about time that the Indian Courts took this issue seriously: there is no dearth of international guidance.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/free-speech-and-civil-defamation

FOEX Live: June 16-23, 2014

geetha — 2014-06-24T10:23:18Z

A weekly selection of news on online freedom of expression and digital technology from across India (and some parts of the world).

A quick and non-exhaustive perusal of this week’s content shows that many people are worried about the state of India’s free speech following police action on account of posts derogatory to or critical of the Prime Minister. Lawyers, journalists, former civil servants and other experts have joined in expressing this worry.

While a crackdown on freedom of expression would indeed be catastrophic and possibly unconstitutional, fears are so far based on police action in only 4 recent cases: Syed Waqar in Karnataka, Devu Chodankar in Goa and two cases in Kerala where college students and principals were arrested for derogatory references to Modi. Violence in Pune, such as the murder of a young Muslim man on his way home from prayer, or the creation of a Social Peace Force of citizens to police offensive Facebook content, are all related, but perhaps ought to be more carefully and deeply explored.

Kerala:

In the Assembly, State Home Minister Ramesh Chennithala said that the State government did not approve of the registration of cases against students on grounds of anti-Modi publications. The Minister denunciation of political opponents through cartoons and write-ups was common practice in Kerala, and “booking the authors for this was not the state government’s policy”.

Maharashtra:

Nearly 20,000 people have joined the Social Peace Force, a Facebook group that aims to police offensive content on the social networking site. The group owner’s stated aim is to target religious posts that may provoke riots, not political ones. Subjective determinations of what qualifies as ‘offensive content’ remain a troubling issue.

Tamil Nadu:

In Chennai, 101 people, including filmmakers, writers, civil servants and activists, have signed a petition requesting Chief Minister J. Jayalalithaa to permit safe screening of the Indo-Sri Lankan film “With You, Without You”. The petition comes after theatres cancelled shows of the film following threatening calls from some Tamil groups.

Telangana:

The K. Chandrasekhar Rao government has blocked two Telugu news channels for airing content that was “derogatory, highly objectionable and in bad taste”.

The Telagana government’s decision to block news channels has its supporters. Padmaja Shaw considers the mainstream Andhra media contemptuous and disrespectful of “all things Telangana”, while Madabushi Sridhar concludes that Telugu channel TV9’s coverage violates the dignity of the legislature.

West Bengal:

Seemingly anti-Modi arrests have led to worry among citizens about speaking freely on the Internet. Section 66A poses a particular threat.

News & Opinion:

The Department of Telecom is preparing a draft of the National Telecom Policy, in which it plans to treat broadband Internet as a basic right. The Policy, which will include deliberations on affordable broadband access for end users, will be finalised in 100 days.

While addressing a CII CEO’s Roundtable on Media and Industry, Information and Broadcasting Minister Prakash Javadekar promised a transparent and stable policy regime, operating on a time-bound basis. He promised that efforts would be streamlined to ensure speedy and transparent clearances.

A perceived increase in police action against anti-Modi publications or statements has many people worried. But the Prime Minister himself was once a fierce proponent of dissent; in protest against the then-UPA government’s blocking of webpages, Modi changed his display pic to black.

Medianama wonders whether the Mumbai police’s Cyber Lab and helpline to monitor offensive content on the Internet is actually a good idea.

G. Sampath wonders why critics of the Prime Minister Narendra Modi can’t voluntarily refrain from exercising their freedom of speech, and allow India to be an all-agreeable development haven. Readers may find his sarcasm subtle and hard to catch.

Experts in India mull over whether Section 79 of the Information Technology Act, 2000, carries a loophole enabling users to exercise a ‘right to be forgotten’. Some say Section 79 does not prohibit user requests to be forgotten, while others find it unsettling to provide private intermediaries such powers of censorship.

Some parts of the world:

Sri Lanka has banned public meetings or rallies intended to promote religious hatred.

In Pakistan, Twitter has restored accounts and tweets that were taken down last month on allegations of being blasphemous or ‘unethical’.

In Myanmar, an anti-hate speech network has been proposed throughout the country to raise awareness and opposition to hate speech and violence.

For feedback, comments and any incidents of online free speech violation you are troubled or intrigued by, please email Geetha at geetha[at]cis-india.org or on Twitter at @covertlight.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/foex-live-june-16-23-2014

FOEX Live: June 1-7, 2014

geetha — 2014-06-07T13:33:45Z

A weekly selection of news on online freedom of expression and digital technology from across India (and some parts of the world).

Delhi NCR:

Following a legal notice from Dina Nath Batra, publisher Orient BlackSwan “set aside… for the present” Communalism and Sexual Violence: Ahmedabad Since 1969 by Dr. Megha Kumar, citing the need for a “comprehensive assessment”. Dr. Kumar’s book is part of the ‘Critical Thinking on South Asia’ series, and studies communal and sexual violence in the 1969, 1985 and 2002 riots of Ahmedabad. Orient BlackSwan insists this is a pre-release assessment, while Dr. Kumar contests that her book went to print in March 2014 after extensive editing and peer review. Dina Nath Batra’s civil suit led Penguin India to withdraw Wendy Doniger’s The Hindus: An Alternative History earlier this year.

The Delhi Police’s Facebook page aimed at reaching out to Delhi residents hailing from the North East proved to be popular.

Goa:

Shipbuilding engineer Devu Chodankar’s ordeal continued. Chodankar, in a statement to the cyber crime cell of the Goa police, clarified that his allegedly inflammatory statements were directed against the induction of the Sri Ram Sene’s Pramod Muthalik into the BJP. Chodankar’s laptop, hard-disk and mobile Internet dongle were seized.

Jammu & Kashmir:

Chief Minister Omar Abdullah announced the withdrawal of a four-year-old SMS ban in the state. The ban was instituted in 2010 following widespread protests, and while it was lifted for post-paid subscribers six months later, pre-paid connections were banned from SMSes until now.

Maharashtra:

In a move to contain public protests over ‘objectionable posts’ about Chhatrapati Shivaji, Dr. B.R. Ambedkar and the late Bal Thackeray (comments upon whose death led to the arrests of Shaheen Dhada and Renu Srinivasan under Section 66A), Maharashtra police will take action against even those who “like” such posts. ‘Likers’ may be charged under the Information Technology Act and the Criminal Procedure Code, say Nanded police.

A young Muslim man was murdered in Pune, apparently connected to the online publication of ‘derogatory’ pictures of Chhatrapati Shivaji and Bal Thackarey. Members of Hindu extremists groups celebrated his murder, it seems. Pune’s BJP MP, Anil Shirole, said, “some repercussions are natural”. Members of the Hindu Rashtra Sena were held for the murder, but it seems that the photographs were uploaded from foreign IP addresses. Across Maharashtra, 187 riotingcases have been registered against a total of 710 persons, allegedly in connection with the offensive Facebook posts.

On a lighter note, Bollywood hopes for a positive relationship with the new government on matters such as film censorship, tax breaks and piracy.

News & Opinion:

Shocking the world, Vodafone reported the existence of secret, direct-access wires that enable government surveillance on citizens. India is among 29 governments that sought access to its networks, says Vodafone.

I&B Minister Prakash Javadekar expressed his satisfaction with media industry self-regulation, and stated that while cross-media ownership is a matter for debate, it is the legality of transactions such as the Reliance-Network18 acquisition that is important.

Nikhil Pahwa of Medianama wrote of a ‘right to be forgotten’ request they received from a user in light of the recent European Court of Justice ruling. The right raises a legal dilemma in India, LiveMint reports. Medianama also comments on Maharashtra police’s decision to take action against Facebook ‘likes’, noting that at the very least, a like and a comment do not amount to the same thing.

The Hindu was scorching in its editorial on the Pune murder, warning that the new BJP government stands to lose public confidence if it does not clearly demonstrate its opposition to religious violence. The Times of India agrees.

Sanjay Hegde wrote of Section 66A of the Information Technology Act, 2000 (as amended in 2008) as a medium-focused criminalization of speech. dnaEdit also published its criticism of Section 66A.

Ajit Ranade of the Mumbai Mirror comments on India as a ‘republic of hurt sentiments’, criminalizing exercises of free speech from defamation, hate speech, sedition and Section 66A. But in this hurt and screaming republic, dissent is crucial and must stay alive.

A cyber security expert is of the opinion that the police find it difficult to block webpages with derogatory content, as servers are located outside India. But data localization will not help India, writes Jayshree Bajoria.

Dharma Adhikari tries to analyze the combined impact of converging media ownership, corporate patronage of politicians and elections, and recent practices of forced and self-censorship and criminalization of speech.

Elsewhere in the world:

In Pakistan, Facebook has been criticized for blocking pages of a Pakistani rock band and several political groups, primarily left-wing. Across the continent in Europe, Google is suffering from a popularity dip.

The National Council for Peace and Order, the military government in Thailand, has taken over not only the government,but also controls the media. The military cancelled its meetings with Google and Facebook. Thai protesters staged a quiet dissent. The Asian Human Rights Commission condemned the coup. For an excellent take on the coup and its dangers, please redirect here. For a round-up of editorials and op-eds on the coup, redirect here.

China has cracked down on Google, affecting Gmail, Translate and Calendar. It is speculated that the move is connected to the 25^th anniversary of the Tiananmen Square protests and government reprisal. At the same time, a Tibetan filmmaker who was jailed for six years for his film, Leaving Fear Behind, has been released by Chinese authorities. Leaving Fear Behind features a series of interviews with Tibetans of the Qinghai province in the run-up to the controversial Beijing Olympics in 2008.

Japan looks set to criminalize possession of child pornography. According to reports, the proposed law does not extend to comics or animations or digital simulations.

Egypt’s police is looking to build a social media monitoring system to track expressions of dissent, including “profanity, immorality, insults and calls for strikes and protests”.

Human rights activists asked Facebook to deny its services to the election campaign of Syrian President Bashar al-Assad, ahead of elections on June 3.

Call for inputs:

The Law Commission of India seeks comments from stakeholders and citizens on media law. The consultation paper may be found here. The final date for submission is June 19, 2014.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

For feedback and comments, Geetha Hariharan is available by email at geetha@cis-india.org or on Twitter, where her handle is @covertlight.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/foex-live-june-1-7-2014

FOEX Live

geetha — 2014-07-07T12:36:49Z

Selections of news on online freedom of expression and digital technology from across India (and some parts of the world)

For feedback, comments and any incidents of online free speech violation you are troubled or intrigued by, please email Geetha at geetha[at]cis-india.org or on Twitter at @covertlight.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/foex-live

Fixing India’s anarchic IT Act

pranesh — 2012-11-30T06:33:58Z

Section 66A of the Information Technology (IT) Act criminalizes “causing annoyance or inconvenience” online, among other things. A conviction for such an offence can attract a prison sentence of as many as three years.

Pranesh Prakash's article was published in LiveMint on November 28, 2012.

How could the ministry of communications and information technology draft such a loosely-worded provision that’s clearly unconstitutional? How could the ministry of law allow such shoddy drafting with such disproportionate penalties to pass through? Were any senior governmental legal officers—such as the attorney general—consulted? If so, what advice did they tender, and did they consider this restriction “reasonable”? These are some of the questions that arise, and they raise issues both of substance and of process.

When the intermediary guidelines rules were passed last year, the government did not hold consultations in anything but name. Industry and non-governmental organizations (NGOs) sent in submissions warning against the rules, as can be seen from the submissions we retrieved under the Right to Information Act and posted on our website. However, almost none of our concerns, including the legality of the rules, were paid heed to.

Earlier this year, parliamentarians employed a little-used power to challenge the law passed by the government, leading communications minister Kapil Sibal to state that he would call a meeting with “all stakeholders”, and will revise the rules based on inputs. A meeting was called in August, where only select industry bodies and members of Parliament were present, and from which a promise emerged of larger public consultations. That promise hasn’t been fulfilled.

Substantively, there is much that is rotten in the IT Act and the various rules passed under it, and a few illustrations—a longer analysis of which is available on the Centre for Internet and Society (CIS) website—should suffice to indicate the extent of the malaise.

Some of the secondary legislation (rules) cannot be passed under the section of the IT Act they claim as their authority. The intermediary guidelines violate all semblance of due process by not even requiring that a person whose content is removed is told about it and given a chance to defend herself. (Any content that is complained about under those rules is required to be removed within 36 hours, with no penalties for wilful abuse of the process. We even tested this by sending frivolous complaints, which resulted in removal.)

The definition of “cyber terrorism” in section 66F(1)(B) of the IT Act includes wrongfully accessing restricted information that one believes can be used for defamation, and this is punishable by imprisonment for life. Phone-tapping requires the existence of a “public emergency” or threat to “public safety”, but thanks to the IT Act, online surveillance doesn’t. The telecom licence prohibits “bulk encryption” over 40 bits without key escrow, but these are violated by all, including the Reserve Bank of India, which requires that 128-bit encryption be used by banks. These are but a few of the myriad examples of careless drafting present in the IT Act, which lead directly to wrongful impingement of our civil and political liberties. While we agree with the minister for communications, that the mere fact of a law being misused cannot be reason for throwing it out, we believe that many provisions of the IT Act are prone to misuse because they are badly drafted, not to mention the fact that some of them display constitutional infirmities. That should be the reason they are amended, not merely misuse.

What can be done? First, the IT Act and its rules need to be fixed. Either a court-appointed amicus curiae (who would be a respected senior lawyer) or a committee with adequate representation from senior lawyers, Internet policy organizations, government and industry must be constituted to review and suggest revisions to the IT Act. The IT Act (in section 88) has a provision for such a multi-stakeholder advisory committee, but it was filled with mainly government officials and became defunct soon after it was created, more than a decade ago. This ought to be reconstituted. Importantly, businesses cannot claim to represent ordinary users, since except when it comes to regulation of things such as e-commerce and copyright, industry has little to lose when its users’ rights to privacy and freedom of expression are curbed.

Second, there must be informal processes and platforms created for continual discussions and constructive dialogue among civil society, industry and government (states and central) about Internet regulation (even apart from the IT Act). The current antagonism does not benefit anyone, and in this regard it is very heartening to see Sibal pushing for greater openness and consultation with stakeholders. As he noted on the sidelines of the Internet Governance Forum in Baku, different stakeholders must work together to craft better policies and laws for everything from cyber security to accountability of international corporations to Indian laws. In his plenary note at the forum, he stated: “Issues of public policy related to the Internet have to be dealt with by adopting a multi-stakeholder, democratic and transparent approach” which is “collaborative, consultative, inclusive and consensual”. I could not have put it better myself. Now is the time to convert those most excellent intentions into action by engaging in an open reform of our laws.

Pranesh Prakash is policy director at the Centre for Internet and Society.

For more details visit https://cis-india.org/internet-governance/blog/livemint-opinion-november-28-2012-pranesh-prakash-fixing-indias-anarchic-it-act