When a democracy faces criticism, the most revealing question is not how it praises free speech, but how it responds when that speech makes someone uncomfortable. In recent weeks, India has witnessed two parallel narratives: one led by the government’s proactive attempt to reshape global opinion on cross-border terrorism through high-level diplomatic outreach, and the other led by the quiet but resounding domestic controversy surrounding Professor Ali Khan Mahmudabad’s arrest over a Facebook post.
This juxtaposition of international projection and internal suppression raises a critical question: Can a nation truly lead a narrative war on the global stage when it appears to stifle dissent within its own borders?
A Strategic Global Mission Meets a Domestic Fault Line
The Indian government’s move to deploy seven all-party delegations to 25 countries—including a team of 51 political leaders and 8 former ambassadors—is ambitious and, arguably, necessary. Pakistan’s state-sponsored terrorism is a decades-old reality that requires consistent, persuasive communication to global powers. India’s diplomatic corps, often underplayed, deserves credit for securing key international partnerships and isolating state actors abetting terror.
However, even as this coordinated diplomatic outreach unfolds, the headlines back home are dominated by the arrest of a university professor for a Facebook post—an incident that risks undermining the very democratic principles India claims to champion abroad. If global perceptions matter, as the government believes, then consistency between domestic values and international messaging is non-negotiable.
A Post, an FIR, and the Fragility of Power
Ali Khan Mahmudabad’s Facebook post, though critical of government actions during Operation Sindoor, did not contain hate speech or abusive language. Yet, two FIRs were filed against him. The irony deepens when one considers that Vijay Shah, a sitting minister, referred to Colonel Sofiya Qureshi—a decorated army officer—as a “terrorist’s sister,” with no legal repercussions.
This uneven application of law lays bare a larger problem. It isn’t about whether one agrees with Mahmudabad’s post or not. Disagreement is the heartbeat of any democracy. But criminalizing that disagreement—especially when it poses no tangible threat—is the real issue. The State appears to be selectively wielding its power, punishing some voices while ignoring others, based not on legality but perceived loyalty.
The Court’s Comments and the ‘Right Time’ to Speak
The Supreme Court granted Mahmudabad bail—but with caveats. He must surrender his passport and refrain from commenting further on his post or on Operation Sindoor. The court said his words were ‘dog whistling’ and questioned the timing of his remarks. “Is it the time to talk about all this?” asked Justice Surya Kant.
But democracy isn’t about speaking only when it is convenient. If freedom of speech becomes conditional upon timing, national mood, or popular sentiment, it ceases to be a right and becomes a privilege—granted when the majority agrees and revoked when it doesn’t.
This is a dangerous precedent. The idea that speech can be criminalized based on perceived insensitivity or poor timing erodes the constitutional guarantee of free expression. Free speech isn’t about saying the right thing at the right time. It’s about saying what you believe—even when it's unpopular, uncomfortable, or inconvenient.
The Larger Implication: Are We Losing Our Democratic Culture?
India has always been a civilizational democracy before it was a constitutional one. Our pluralism has been organic, and our tolerance for disagreement innate. We are the land of Gandhi and Ambedkar, but also of Periyar, Tagore, and Bhagat Singh—people who disagreed deeply with the status quo.
But today, the signal we seem to be sending—intentionally or otherwise—is that critical thought and contrarian views are not welcome. That dissent is acceptable only within the narrow confines of state-sanctioned narratives. That the cost of speaking out may be one’s freedom, or at least an FIR.
What kind of democracy does that make us?
It’s commendable that many right-wing voices—who ideologically differ from Mahmudabad—chose to speak up for his right to express himself. It’s a small but powerful reminder that India hasn’t entirely forgotten the principles on which it was built. That free speech isn’t the property of the Left or the Right—it’s the foundation of the nation itself.
The Real Image War
In global diplomacy, perception is power. As India wages a narrative war to expose Pakistan’s duplicity, it must also ensure that its own democratic credentials remain intact. Arresting scholars for non-violent expression doesn’t reinforce strength; it reveals insecurity. And that is a vulnerability no democracy can afford.
To be respected globally, India must remain strong internally—not just in its military or economy, but in its principles. We cannot claim to lead the world in confronting authoritarianism while curbing liberties at home.
The Opportunity Before Us
India’s cultural and political strength lies in its diversity of opinion, not its uniformity. If we are to truly rise on the global stage—as a superpower of ideas, technology, and diplomacy—we must be a place where ideas can clash freely without the fear of reprisal.
Let this be a moment of reflection. Not just for the courts, or for the government, but for us as citizens. Are we comfortable with a democracy that demands silence in times of conflict? Or do we still believe in one that grows stronger through debate?
In the end, India’s story will not be told by government delegations alone. It will be told in the courts, in classrooms, and on platforms where ordinary people speak freely. The world is watching—not just what we say abroad, but how we treat our dissenters at home.
If we want to lead a narrative war globally, we must first win the battle for free expression within. Because it’s not dissent that weakens a nation. It’s the fear of it that does.
