At least 24 people have died in the protests against the Citizenship Amendment Act and the National Register of Citizens that have swept the country. One state stands out for the intensity of its crackdown on protestors: Uttar Pradesh, which accounts for 17 of these deaths. Most fell to bullets while an 11-year-old in Varanasi was crushed in a stampede triggered by a police lathi charge.
This was a state where the chief minister, Adityanath, promised “badla”, or revenge, on protestors who vandalised public property. But as it launched its crackdown, the state police does not seem to have differentiated between those who were violent and those who were not, or even between those who protested and those who did not. A closer look at the last few days’ events reveals disquieting patterns in the way Uttar Pradesh’s law and order machinery has worked.
On December 18, the administration took the unprecedented decision to impose Section 144, which bans the assembly of five or more people, on all of Uttar Pradesh. The grounds for enforcing such a sweeping ban were dubious. Did the government see an actual threat to law and order across the entire state? Either way, the prohibitory orders effectively outlawed protests, even peaceful protests.
Second, after days of denial, the police have admitted that they did use force in some cases but only in “self-defence” and only in response to protesters becoming violent. In case after case, this seems to be untrue. In Varanasi, where an 11-year-old lost his life, there is video footage to show that police started a lathi charge on a large but peaceful crowd in a narrow lane. When the crowd grew agitated, the police opened fire.
In both Bijnor and Lucknow, women spoke of policemen barging into their homes, beating them up and vandalising property, even when the men they had come looking for were away. At Aligarh Muslim University, one fact finding report suggests, state forces used stun grenades on unarmed students. In Bijnor, where two men were killed, residents said they had not even been protesting; the police wielded lathis and used tear gas on a peaceful crowd streaming out after Friday prayers.
Indeed, the targeting of crowds at the Friday gatherings points to a third disturbing trend – police attention was concentrated on the minority, even in places where the community showed no signs of protesting. In Meerut and in Bijnor, residents spoke of heavy police presence around the mosques at prayer time, setting off ripples of panic. Police deployment was heaviest around Muslim neighbourhoods, they say. It was also in these neighbourhoods that state forces raided homes.
But the police have not stopped there. About 5,400 people have been taken into custody, and 705 sent to jail. Students and activists, cutting across communities, have been detained. One activist, who went to the police station to ask about the fate of people missing since a citizenship bill protest the day before, found himself jailed on dubious charges.
As it cracked down and used disproportionate force, the Uttar Pradesh police displayed a flagrant disregard for public accountability. Questions put to it by journalists, even state correspondents for the national media, were disregarded. A Kashmiri journalist for the Hindu was detained, insulted for his identity and accused of orchestrating protests. Internet shutdowns meant little information escaped as raids and detentions continued. Opposition leaders were stopped as they tried to visit violence-torn cities. The message was clear: dissent will not be tolerated.
It should have been a truism that did not need repeating – this is not how the police force of a democratic government behaves. But does a chief minister who speaks of “revenge” on citizens head a democratic government?