In a multi-religious society, law must be kept above faith. And any act of violence and coercion must be condemned by one and all
Here is an intriguing question: what if the lawyer who threw the shoe at the Chief Justice of India in open court was not named Rakesh Kishore but Rahim Khan instead? Is it likely that he would not be let off scot-free but instead would face charges under the National Security Act, Public Safety Act (if he was a Kashmiri Muslim) or maybe even the Unlawful Prevention Activities Act? The aim here is not to gaslight anyone but to turn the searchlight on a hateful and divisive ecosystem where coarse public opinion can influence the criminal justice process.
Let us understand the chronology here. Last month, the Chief Justice B R Gavai dismissed a plea to reconstruct a damaged Lord Vishnu idol at a temple in Khajuraho. While deeming it âpublicity interest litigation,â Justice Gavai remarked that instead of filing a petition, the petitioner should âgo and ask the deity himself to do something. If you are saying that you are a strong devotee of Lord Vishnu, then you pray and do some meditation.â
The judgeâs seemingly mocking tone was wholly unnecessary but remember these were only observations: the case was dismissed because the court ruled that this was a matter for the Archaeological Survey of India to adjudicate upon.
Unfortunately, the politically âweaponisedâ armies on social media have little time to read reasoned court judgments. Justice Gavaiâs passing remarks on the Vishnu idol were enough to set off a hysterical response amongst right wing groups and individuals, many of them patronised by the regime at the Centre. The well-orchestrated outrage campaign forced the Chief Justice of India to clarify that he believes in all faiths, visits all sites of worship and trusts in âtrue secularismâ.
But the clarification was clearly not enough to satiate the permanently enraged Twitter mob fury. Instead, it only emboldened them further: memes, hashtags and YouTube videos continued to castigate Chief Justice Gavai. In this surcharged environment, Rakesh Kishore, a 71-year-old advocate chose to vent his anger by throwing a shoe at the Chief Justice. âSanatan Dharma ka apmaan, nahi sahega Hindustan!â (The abuse of Sanatan religion will not be tolerated in Hindustan). While Justice Gavai, with great dignity, chose not to pursue the matter further and refused to file a case, Kishore has been unrepentant, relishing his one week of fame by maintaining that âI will do it againâ!
Rather than take suo motu action as would be the case with any ordinary citizen, the Delhi police has chosen a âhands offâ approach. Kishore, meanwhile, continues to speak with the impunity of someone who knows he canât be touched by the law even though he is clearly guilty of contempt of court. His cheerleaders, especially on social media, have lauded him instead of ostracising him.
Nothing of this should come as a surprise. Law Minister Arjun Meghwal, for example, was conspicuously silent when the attack took place. And it took eight hours after the incident for Prime Minister Narendra Modi to tweet that the shoe-throwing was a âreprehensible act which has angered every Indianâ. While the PMâs strong words are welcome, recall that in 2019 Modi expressed similar anguish over remarks made by BJP MP Pragya Singh Thakur glorifying Nathuram Godse, saying he would never be able to forgive her fully. Yet, no concrete action was taken against the saffron-robed MP who completed her full term in parliament without too much fuss. Pragya Thakur is, after all, cut from the same Hindutva cloth of the sangh parivar that has never fully distanced itself from the Godse cult.
Advocate Kishore is part of a similar belief system, someone who claims to be a staunch âdefenderâ of Sanatan Dharma. The difference is where Godse pulled the trigger to assassinate the Mahatma, Kishore chose a relatively milder weapon, a shoe, to convey his anger. In both instances, the intolerant mindset is undeniable: any perceived offence to âhurt Hindu sentimentsâ is enough for a violent streak to instantly surface.
There is another troubling angle to this case. Justice Gavai is the second Dalit to hold the high constitutional post of Chief Justice. He comes from a political family rooted in neo-Buddhist thought and Ambedkarite values and whose father R S Gavai was a prominent figure in the Republican Party of India movement. Visit the Chief Justice of Indiaâs house and Ambedkar portraits and memorabilia are omnipresent. In a sense, his ascent to the CJIâs post marks the symbolic fulfillment of an Ambedkarite dream of a more equal opportunity society for traditionally oppressed castes.
Paradoxically, his family origins in the Dalit movement make Justice Gavai even more vulnerable to targeted attacks. When, for example, Justice Gavai passed a stern order on âbulldozer justiceâ a year ago, while affirming that bulldozer demolitions were fundamentally anti-constitutional, he was once again the object of a vicious online campaign from right wing groups. Not surprising again since it is Yogi Adityanathâs muscular unapologetic Hindutva government in Uttar Pradesh that has been at the vanguard of the demolition brigade. Which is why the shoe attack must be seen for what it is: an attempt to establish âSanatan Dharmaâ supremacy within an avowedly secular constitutional framework.
The shoe thrown by Advocate Kishore was not just aimed at Justice Gavai, it was meant to consciously intimidate and undermine a judicial system that is meant to be rational, just and non-discriminatory. Advocate Kishoreâs act was not that of an unstable mind but a calculated move designed to make a political statement in full public gaze. He does not represent a lunatic fringe as might have been the case a few years ago but is now emblematic of a majoritarian worldview that seeks to replace a constitutional system based on equal citizenship with a Hindu Rashtra where the rule of the numerically largest community will prevail over the rule of law.
(Rajdeep Sardesai is a senior journalist and author.)