Arundhati at it again

In 2010, speaking at a seminar in Srinagar, Roy said that “Kashmir has never been an integral part of India” and described India as a “colonising power” after Independence. These were not casual remarks made in a private conversation. They were made publicly at a political gathering dealing with Kashmir and were immediately criticised, including by Congress leaders, who said the statement was historically irresponsible. What is shocking is that Roy did not retreat from the controversy. She stood by her position and argued that she had the right to speak and write. Of course she did. But the right to speak does not place one's words beyond scrutiny. Freedom of expression protects dissent and it does not transform every provocative assertion into truth.

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Her approach to the Maoist insurgency is equally serious. In 2010, Roy described Maoists as “patriots of a kind.” She argued that the government was using force against people and portrayed the conflict largely through the prism of state oppression. There is nothing wrong with demanding justice for tribals or questioning the state's handling of development and land rights. Those are legitimate democratic concerns. But there is a vast moral difference between defending the rights of vulnerable citizens and romanticising an armed movement that has used violence against the Indian state and its citizens. When armed rebels are described in the language of patriotism while the constitutional state is portrayed as the principal aggressor, the moral compass becomes dangerously inverted.

Roy's response to the 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks also demonstrated this tendency. In her 2008 essay, she argued that the attacks had to be understood against the background of Kashmir, communal tensions and other grievances. She did state that “nothing can justify terrorism,” but her larger argument placed considerable emphasis on India's own alleged responsibility for the circumstances that produced terrorism. That distinction matters. Context can explain terrorism; it cannot excuse it. A nation that has suffered repeated terrorist attacks does not need lectures suggesting that the victims should first examine themselves before confronting the perpetrators.

And this is where the latest episode becomes more serious. Roy has now entered the CJP protest and celebrated its political impact on Modi. There is nothing inherently objectionable about an author supporting a protest. But when a figure with a long record of portraying the Indian state in deeply negative terms becomes a prominent voice around an agitation, the public is entitled to ask what larger political narrative is being constructed. The answer appears familiar. Modi is presented as the embodiment of everything wrong with India, while any protest against him is automatically elevated into evidence of a historic democratic awakening. That is an extraordinarily simplistic reading of Indian democracy.

There is an uncomfortable contradiction here. One can fiercely disagree with India’s government without despising India. One can demand reform without questioning the legitimacy of the nation. One can defend minorities without reducing the majority to a caricature. Dissent is not the problem. Disdain is.

Criticism should be directed at injustice wherever it exists. But intellectual honesty also requires recognising India's achievements, its democratic resilience, its constitutional framework, its social fabric and its extraordinary capacity to correct itself through elections and institutions.

People like Arundhati Roy, who repeatedly portray the country as the villain should not be surprised when citizens ask a simple question: at what point does dissent stop being an act of courage and become contempt for the nation itself? India can tolerate dissent.
But India need not celebrate contempt.