POLICING HATE WITHOUT SILENCING DISSENT: WHY KARNATAKA NEEDS A BALANCED LAW

 The Karnataka Legislative Assembly’s passage of an anti–hate speech provision has predictably triggered a political storm. The BJP’s walkout and its charge that the law is “draconian” and reminiscent of the Emergency reflect a familiar pattern: any attempt to regulate incendiary political speech is instantly framed as an assault on democracy. Yet this debate deserves to be conducted with greater constitutional sobriety and social honesty, especially in a state that has repeatedly paid a high price for organised communal provocation.

There is no denying that hate speech, particularly during election cycles, has become a calculated political tool. Leaders and operatives of outfits across the ideological spectrum — including the RSS, Bajrang Dal and SDPI — have routinely crossed constitutional red lines to mobilise voters through fear, resentment and communal identity. Coastal Karnataka, especially Dakshina Kannada, has been one of the most visible theatres of this politics. The region’s history of communal killings and retaliatory violence has not only scarred its social fabric but also damaged its reputation as a hub of education, enterprise and investment. Those who delivered provocative speeches walked away with political dividends; the region bore the cost.

Seen in this context, a legal provision aimed at deterring hate speech is not an authoritarian impulse but a democratic necessity. The Constitution does not treat free speech as an absolute. Article 19(2) explicitly permits reasonable restrictions in the interests of public order, decency and morality. Courts have repeatedly upheld the state’s power to curb speech that incites violence or hatred against groups. The real constitutional question, therefore, is not whether the state can regulate hate speech, but how it does so.

This is where the concerns raised by critics acquire legitimacy. Vague definitions, excessive punishments and unchecked police discretion can transform a well-intentioned law into a weapon against political opposition or inconvenient dissent. Indian courts have struck down or read down such laws in the past — from Section 66A of the Information Technology Act to overbroad uses of sedition — precisely because ambiguity chills lawful expression. Karnataka must not repeat those mistakes.

Safeguards are essential. First, the law must clearly distinguish between hate speech that incites hostility or violence against identifiable groups and robust, even harsh, criticism of governments, ideologies or public figures. Genuine difference of opinion, satire, academic analysis and journalistic commentary must remain untouched. The media, in particular, must be explicitly protected for its analytical and opinionated engagement with public issues; any law that intimidates the press undermines democracy itself.

Second, punishment must be proportionate. Imprisonment of up to seven years for speech-related offences is excessive and constitutionally vulnerable. Deterrence does not require maximal punishment; it requires certainty and fairness. A graded response would better serve democratic ends: mandatory police warnings — not once, but twice — to habitual provocateurs; monetary penalties for initial violations; and custodial punishment only when an offender remains unrelenting and demonstrably threatens public order.

Third, procedural checks are vital. Prosecution should require prior sanction by a senior, independent authority, and courts should be empowered to fast-track frivolous or mala fide cases. This would reduce the risk of political misuse while preserving the law’s core purpose.

Ultimately, laws alone cannot manufacture harmony. But when politicians and their backroom strategists repeatedly show that polarisation is worth any social cost, the state cannot afford regulatory paralysis. Peace-loving citizens have a legitimate expectation that the law will protect them from organised hate masquerading as political speech. If framed narrowly, enforced cautiously and reviewed rigorously, Karnataka’s anti–hate speech provision can serve as a deterrent without becoming a gag.

The choice, then, is not between freedom and order. It is between a calibrated constitutional response to a real social harm and the cynical defence of a status quo that rewards those who profit from division.