On February 27, at the Jawahar Bhawan in New Delhi, victims of the 2020 Northeast Delhi violence gathered with Karwan-e-Mohabbat to remember the harm inflicted, reflect on the legal battles for compensation, and deliberate upon the concept of justice.
On March 4, the Delhi high court once again adjourned all cases related to compensation for the riots, which have been pending for over four years now.
On March 5, G.N. Saibaba and five other co-accused, who were arrested under the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act for alleged Maoist links, were acquitted. Upon his release after about a decade, Saibaba mourned the losses he endured in prison as a victim of the process and the state.
On March 8, at the IAWRT Asian Women’s Film Festival held at the India International Centre, a packed auditorium awarded a standing ovation to a documentary film by Nausheen Khan titled Land of My Dreams. The film documents the CAA-NRC-NPR protests, the Delhi riots, and the stories of resistance that emerged from them. The event ended with the host reminding the audience that even those present in the room were part of the ongoing resistance.
At the Jawahar Bhawan event, residents of Shiv Vihar, Mustafabad, Jaffrabad, and other locations in Northeast Delhi narrated with great strength and kindness the impact that resistance had on them – how important Justice Muralidhar’s midnight order was in reducing violence in the Hindutva-led riots, what it meant that we were gathered there to understand the growth of hate crime in India, and how the efforts of lawyers, filmmakers, poets, doctors, and activists were essential in continuing to care for justice. I felt hope despite the worries that any amount of visibility, even in the most tender efforts to provide care for those who had lost loved ones, homes, and livelihoods, would mean a possibility of state-enabled persecution.
On March 11, the Centre notified the Rules of the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) after four years of continuously filing extensions. The move came a few hours after the Supreme Court rapped the State Bank of India for their lack of compliance with releasing data on electoral bonds.
As soon as the news arrived, chatter began on the move’s form, intent, and motive.
A sense of anxiety overwhelmed me, of what this meant and what now needed to be done.
Chief ministers of the governments of West Bengal, Tamil Nadu, Kerala released statements, expressing their condemnation of the CAA, and the continued insistence that the discriminatory Act would not be implemented in their states and would be fought.
Many decried it as a deliberate move of electoral politics, questioning why the Centre released the Rules at this moment after four years of delays, and condemning the exclusion of Muslims, Sri Lankan Tamils, and many others from the Rules’ criteria.
The scholar Angshuman Choudhury asked how exactly the government would verify claims of religious persecution, what parameters would be used, and what digital security measures were in place to ensure that the personal data of applicants would remain safe. He also wrote that the legal details of the Rules don’t matter as much as the Act being used as a tool for right-wing groups to further “bully Indian Muslims”.
Asaduddin Owaisi further connected the announcement of the Rules as being linked to the election period and criticised the CAA for its divisive nature, as based on Nathuram Godse’s logic of reducing Muslims to second-class citizens. He ended his tweet with a note: “Indians who came out on the streets to oppose CAA, NPR, NRC will have no choice but to oppose it again.”
In a statement, Amnesty India said that the CAA goes against “the constitutional values of equality and human rights law” and that it is in violation of multiple international covenants.
Amidst these events, The Quint reported protests breaking out against the notification of the Rules on the very same day across multiple districts in Assam. The Indian Express reported student unions burn copies of the CAA, and the opposition declaring a statewide ‘hartal’ on March 13.
Assam’s chief minister Himanta Biswa Sarma, at the same time, said that political parties faced the risk of deregistration if they organised anti-CAA protests, citing the 2023 Gauhati high court order that declared bandhs as “illegal and unconstitutional”.
Maktoob Media also shared footage of protests that quickly erupted in Kerala’s Kozhikode, where students were subjected to violent lathi charges. Additionally, late-night vigils were held by student organisations including Fraternity, MSF, and NSU(I) at Jamia Millia Islamia and Hyderabad Central University.
The process
For many, the timing of the Rules seems obviously oriented towards the Bharatiya Janata Party’s strategy of communal division as a mode of increased voter bases.
A Yale study found that the BJP’s vote share grew by 0.08% after each incident of communal riots.
A look at the Rules themselves reveal that applications for the CAA are to be made via an online portal (indiancitizenshiponline.nic.in), where applicants would be then issued with a digital certificate of registration or a digital certificate of naturalisation.
The Rules further confirm that only persons from Afghanistan, Bangladesh, and Pakistan who belong to Hindu, Sikh, Buddhist, Jain, Parsi, or Christian identities would be considered for citizenship under the Act. A person making an application through the CAA for citizenship would thus need to provide a minimum of five to six documents. These include:
i) a filled application form;
ii) one of the documents listed under Schedule IA of the Act, including but not limited to land or tenancy records from the origin country, birth certificates, identity documents, land or tenancy records;
iii) one of the documents from Schedule IB such as ration card, Aadhaar card, license, any letter issued by the Government or Court to the applicant with an official stamp, land or tenancy records, electricity papers, school leaving certificates, and others;
iv) an affidavit verifying the correctness of statements made, as attested by a Notary/Oath Commissioner/Magistrate;
v) a document providing evidence that an applicant or either of their parents was a citizen of Independent India (passport or birth certificate); and
vi) if available, the copy of an expired Foreign Passport or Residential Permit
This completed application would then be processed by a District Level Committee, and then if verified, the designated officer would administer an oath of allegiance to the applicant in person, then sent to the Empowered Committee. The final digital certificate would be issued with the signature of the chairman of the Empowered Committee.
The online portal further includes guidelines for the composition of the two committees. The Empowered Committee, headed by the Director of Census Operations, is to be formed by an intelligence bureau officer, a Foreigners Regional Registration Officer, a State Informatics Officer, a Postal Officer or Post Master General, a representative of the Railways and from the office of the Principal or Additional Chief Secretary. The District Level Committee would compromise a District Informatics Officer, representative not below the rank of Naib Tehsildar, a nominee of the Central Government, and a jurisdictional Station Master of Railways. The required quorum for each of the Committees is only two.
This process leaves room for corruption and mistreatment of applicants both at the District Level Committee and with the Empowered Committee.
The composition, which includes Intelligence Bureau officers and vaguely described nominees of the central government, with their meagre quorum of two individuals, creates an uncertain and unfair system of authentication and evaluation.
There are limited measures to check any oversight by members of the District Level and Empowered Committees and to prevent the abuse of power. The requirements for documentation themselves discriminate against Muslim, queer, Dalit, and other marginalised individuals who may no longer have access to documents in Schedule IA and IB.
Journalist Arvind Gunasekar further criticised the Empowered Committee’s lopsided composition, with five representatives from the central government and only one from the state government, as a blow to federalism.
The process, with its requirements of multiple degrees of verification, attestation, and authentication, exclude those without the capacity or resources to collate an application with such a degree of detail and depth.
Lastly, the home ministry’s spokesperson said that the application process would be conducted via a digital portal. The assumption of access to digital sources is a flawed notion that is unmindful of the difficulties of such a process, as well as privacy and security concerns in the handling of sensitive data.
Protest
In a space where the act of protesting has increasingly been connected with prosecution, persecution, and a violent imposition of visibility on activists and minority communities, what responsibility do Indians have toward resisting the CAA?
While most physical evidence of protests at Shaheen Bagh, with the exception of the Fearless Collective’s mural, have been cleared away by the Delhi police, there still remains an air of resilience. Such a resilience is a peaceful one grounded in faith in the constitution.
Cases contending with the constitutionality of the CAA, however, remain pending at the Supreme Court.
When one has limited faith in the courts and finds protests challenging, as seen in the situation currently faced by farmers at the Shambu Border, a sense of powerlessness can pervade those who are concerned. This feeling of being stuck complicates our moral compass. How do we respond when those we are resisting are no longer a political party or regime, but rather our friends, family, neighbours, coworkers, and loved ones?
The CAA, in that sense, restores our resilience to the ruling party and the government. It reaffirms faith in the potential for peaceful protests. However, the notification of the Rules raises concerns for Muslim-majority community spaces across the country, where right-wing groups may intensify their activities, increasing the risk of violence. A morally upright government and executive would ethically improve security measures to prevent such risks of violence, without infringing upon Muslims’ constitutional right to protest. It would also address hate towards minorities, regardless of their origin.
Other questions remain: How far will states resist the Centre’s imposition of the CAA? How much can they resist?
While the Centre has repeatedly stated that the CAA is not intended for citizens, differs from the National Register of Indian Citizens, and is solely intended for foreigners, the guidelines for accessing a digital certificate of registration seem relevant in their applicability to any suspected ‘foreigners’ in India, along with their connections to the NPR and NRC.
In such a scenario, will those with relative social, economic, and cultural capital choose not to register themselves under the discriminatory Act as an act of protest?
As Harsh Mander once stated, would one register as Muslim in solidarity with Muslim siblings, choose to suffer the exclusions of the CAA, not show documents, and invite punishment?
How far should Indian citizens go and what constitutional measures are tenable in the long-term resistance of an unconstitutional Act?
As the Lok Sabha elections draw near, these questions are likely to find greater clarity. Those who care are likely to feel more anxious, powerless, and stuck, despite the courage, community, and solidarity found in peaceful resistance. But beyond our calls to remember, beyond “Hum Dekhenge”, and beyond just memory, this is now a moment to contend with what courage means to each of us – whether we would put ourselves in harm’s way, if necessary, to help those harmed by majoritarian exclusions.
Q. Manivannan is a scholar of care and grief in protests at the University of St Andrews and tweets @q_ueering