‘Comrade Bhagat Singh, in This India, You Too Would Likely be Branded an Anti-National’

Dear Comrade, 

Krantikari Salaam! 

Ninety-four years have passed since this day in 1931, when the judiciary of British Raj convicted and gave you a death sentence. You were only 23 when you made the revolutionary sacrifice as a young blood for the Indian soil. It is the year 2025 now and all these months I tried to understand the ideas that you and other comrades had for India and I am writing to you to bridge the chasm of time between patriot comrades of then and now. 

The chains of British rule had broken some 16 years after your death. India achieved independence in 1947. M.K. Gandhi, whom you respected for his commitment to the nation despite your ideological differences at several points, was assassinated by Nathuram Godse, a Hindu militant, a member of the RSS, a Hindu far-right organisation. I wonder if you could have imagined this violent attack on the life of a person who spent his life advocating and propagating the importance of non-violence. He was killed by three shots of bullets in his chest. 

A lot has changed ever since. I will come back to the present times. It is 2025 and we are living in a world shaped by neoliberal globalisation. India is now ruled by the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), a political entity deeply intertwined with the same RSS whose member killed Gandhi. With all due respect, Comrade, quite possibly in this India, you too would likely be branded an “anti-national”, a label now used to silence dissent, to stifle the voices of those who dare to question the powerful.

Your words, your very existence, would be deemed a threat. Imagine, Comrade, your treatise, “Why I am an Atheist”, under the present regime, would be grounds for charges of “hurting religious sentiments”, potentially under Section 302 of the new Bhartiya Nyay Sanhita (BNS). 

You might even face the wrath of a lynch mob, fueled by religious fervour, for daring to challenge the tenets of the holy Sanatan Dharma, an idea that Hindus have been manipulated to follow in an inebriated way. 

The draconian Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA), originally enacted in 1967 to combat terrorism, has become a tool for suppressing dissent. You would likely be charged under its provisions too, alongside Section 152 of the BNS, for your “seditious” acts of speaking truth to power. The very slogans you cherished, “Krantikari Salaam” and “Inquilab Zindabad”, are now viewed with suspicion by our judiciary. Student activists who echo your calls for change in the conditions of common masses are languishing in prison, their voices silenced by the UAPA’s stringent provisions, a stark reminder of the Rowlatt Act you so vehemently opposed.

The irony, Comrade, is that these activists, unlike you, advocate for peaceful, democratic change. Yet, they face the same oppressive tactics you endured under British rule, but now at the hands of a legitimate power, our own elected government. Our Constitution, which guarantees fundamental rights like freedom of speech and assembly, is being eroded, its spirit violated. Among those silenced, among those branded “anti-national” are Umar Khalid and Gulfisha. So many of these youths were charged under the same sections of 120B IPC amongst others that you and your comrades were charged with. These students and their names, like yours, have become symbols of resistance in a time when dissent is criminalised. 

Umar Khalid, a student, a scholar, dared to speak against a discriminatory citizenship law, a law that threatened the very fabric of our secular nation. For this act of conscience, he was imprisoned, his voice silenced, his potential extinguished. He, like you, was painted as a threat and was treated like a terrorist, a danger to the state. And then there is Gulfisha, a young woman, a student, who raised her voice against injustice, against the communal forces. For her act of resistance , she was thrown into the depths of our prisons, her life put on hold, her future stolen. 

An illustration of Bhagat Singh by human rights activist Sagrika Rajoura.

These young activists, Comrade, are the inheritors of your legacy. They are the ones who refuse to be silenced, who dare to challenge the status quo, who embody the spirit of change that revolution is. 

The echoes of your Lahore Conspiracy Case resonate in the present-day Lucknow Conspiracy Case, but again, Comrade, unlike you these young innocent students were just exercising their legitimate right to peaceful protest but even then they are being subjected to interrogation and persecution by state agencies. 

You see Comrade, the methods used by the state also have evolved with time. Instead of the gallows, the state employs prolonged incarceration, denying bail and subjecting activists to inhumane conditions. The long period of incarceration coupled with inhumanity where the process itself becomes the punishment is not only to kill the spirit of the dissenters inside the jail but also it is a bigger political signalling to tell the masses that if they dare become critical of the present system and regime they will end up in jails too. 

Your fight for the recognition of political prisoners continues. It is 2025 and there is still no law for the recognition of political prisoners. In fact, today they are labeled “Urban Naxals” and treated worse than common criminals. Stan Swamy, an 84-year-old tribal rights activist suffering from Parkinson’s disease, was denied bail and died in custody, his basic needs of a straw to drink water was ignored. GN Saibaba, a professor, endured years of solitary confinement, his health shattered and he died shortly after release. The conditions in Indian prisons remain abysmal, a testament to the state’s disregard for human dignity. Hunger strikes, like those you and your comrades undertook, continue, but with little effect. Rona Wilson and Professor Hany

Babu attempted to hold similar hunger strikes that you and your comrades underwent, but under the present regime, their efforts have largely been in vain. 

Your concerns about labour rights are also as relevant today as they were in your time. The new labour codes introduced by the current regime erode the right to unionise and strike, promote long working hours and encourage contract-based employment instead of permanent jobs. The youth of India face increasing precarity, with little protection for their economic rights and well-being. 

Your prophetic words about the exploitation of the Indian masses by “a handful of parasites” ring true in the context of the ongoing crisis in Bastar, Chhattisgarh. The indigenous Adivasi communities are being displaced and killed to facilitate the extraction of natural resources by corporate interests. The region has become a war zone, with the state bombing its own citizens and heavily militarising the districts with one lakh paramilitary forces deployed against the interests of its own citizens and its own land and natural resources. 

In all this chaos, I turned to reading and understanding you. I heard you when you said, “Let us declare that the state of war does exist and shall exist so long as the Indian toiling masses and the natural resources are being exploited by a handful of parasites. They may be British capitalists or mixed British and or even purely Indian. They may be carrying on their insidious exploitation through mixed or even purely Indian bureaucratic apparatus.” 

Amidst all this, the youth of India is frustrated. But the saga of our freedom struggles and our comrades like you give us hope. I am writing this to you because you are still alive in the Indian conscience, we just need to look around and rediscover the present through you and in that quest your letters have served the purpose of making the path sublime for present and future generations. 

Amidst this darkness, your words offer a beacon of hope. Your message to the Punjab Students’ Conference – “Today, students are confronted with a far more important assignment…They have to awaken crores of slum dwellers of the Industrial areas and villagers living in worn out cottages, so that we will be independent and the exploitation of man by man will become an impossibility” – resonates with the youth of today. Your understanding of revolution, as a “spirit, the longing for a change for the better”, is crucial in these times. 

As you said, “The spirit of revolution should always permeate the soul of humanity, so that the reactionary forces may not accumulate (strength) to check its eternal onward march.” Perhaps the Hon’ble Indian judiciary, in its deliberations, could contemplate the wisdom of these words. Your insights into the harsh realities of life imprisonment, as expressed in your introduction to L. Ram Saran Das’s “The Dreamland”, remain relevant. “Life imprisonment is comparatively a far lot harder than that of death” – the Indian legislature and judiciary could reflect on this, especially in cases where life imprisonment without remission is upheld. Your response to Sukhdev’s letter about suicide – “We did a bit to propagate these ideas, and therefore I say that since we have already taken a tough task upon ourselves, we should continue to advance it” – inspires us to carry on the struggle for justice. 

Your warning about the “capitalists and exploiters, the parasites of society” who “squander millions on their whims”, is a stark reminder of the dangers of unchecked corporatism. The Indian state should heed your words in the context of Adani’s ruthless pursuit of profits and the exploitation of resources in Bastar. 

And finally, your message to Sukhdev, “…man must have the strongest feelings of love which he may not confine to one individual and may make it universal,” speaks to the romantics like myself and so many of us, who believe in a better world. 

Comrade, your words, your courage, still inspire us. On this 23rd day of March, we pledge to carry on your legacy, to fight for a just and equitable society, where the exploitation of man by man shall stand abolished. 

Krantikari Salaam! 

With unwavering respect and admiration,

A comrade from 2025.