31 Jan 14 | Digital Freedom, India, News and features, Politics and Society
(Image: Sergey Nivens/Shutterstock)
In 2009 India announced its grand universal biometric scheme “Aadhaar”. The scheme, managed by the Unique Identification Authority of India (UIDAI), collects the fingerprints, iris scans and facial images of applicants in exchange for a national identification number. First handed out in 2010 the numbers, randomised 12-digit codes, function as “internal passports” which can be used as proof of identity to access state services.
November 2013 marked 500 million enrolments to the scheme, making Aadhaar the largest biometric programme in the world. This year the scheme is set to be linked to major development reforms, and the collection of data, stored in a centrally controlled database, aims to improve transparency, reduce corruption and ensure access to the country’s myriad of welfare benefits.
India’s welfare state is characterised by “leakage”: by corrupt middlemen syphoning off benefits and claimants taking more than their share. The biometric scheme plays an important role in making sure that those who are entitled state aid receive it. But despite this developmental progress India lacks comprehensive protections for biometric data, raising serious concerns about individual privacy.
A report by Oxford Pro Bono Publico, a research centre affiliated to the University of Oxford, found India’s controls over the collection, storage and use of biometric data, compared to other jurisdictions, hugely deficient.
The sheer scale of the project compounds concerns, with UIDAI aiming to enrol every one of India’s 1.2 billion people. The scheme was first introduced as voluntary, but as more and more development schemes are administered through it, welfare recipients seeking state aid have little choice but to hand over their data.
Justice Puttaswamy, a retired High Court judge, has led the charge in challenging the scheme on privacy grounds. As he argued in his petition to the Indian Supreme Court, “there are no safeguards or penalties and no legislative backing for obtaining personal information”. His complaint culminated in a Supreme Court interim order, which insisted that the scheme must remain voluntary and that those entitled to receive welfare should do so regardless of their Aadhaar status.
Attempts to circumvent the Aadhaar programme to deliver benefits, however, have become increasingly difficult. Last year, despite the Supreme Court order, reports emerged from Delhi that food-subsidy ration cards were only being handed out to those with national identification numbers. A recent announcement by the Minister for Food and Civil Supplies, that consumers without Aadhaar cards would continue to receive discounted cooking gas, provoked oil companies and the Union Ministry of Petroleum and Natural Gas to return to the Supreme Court to file an appeal.
Aadhaar was introduced via an executive order, a lack of statutory backing that critics argue makes the scheme unconstitutional. As Shyam Divan, a practising lawyer and petitioner in a case against the UIDAI, explains, there is no legislative oversight of the collection, storage and use of biometric data. Controls on access are similarly scant. There are no provisions that address who can access the data, when and why. At the field level, agents enrolling applicants to the scheme are employed privately and work without government supervision. Once collected, the data passes through private hands before being transferred to the UIDAI’s central repository. Corporations (including the consulting firm Accenture, tech-solutions firm Morpho and American defence contractor L-1 Identity) are involved at every stage of the operation, a sprawling collection and transmission network that campaigners fear maximises the opportunity for abuse.
The case against the scheme on constitutional grounds is equally robust. Every time a person uses their unique Aadhaar number, a real-time confirmation is sent between the access point and central database, a process that activists complain amounts to covert surveillance. Critics argue that this tracking violates the right to privacy enshrined in Article 21 of Indian Constitution. According to campaigners insufficient information on the data-collection process also amounts to a lack of informed consent, a further rights violation.
Through public interest litigation various groups have taken the UIDAI to court over the lack of statutory backing and inadequate data protection, suits that the state has dismissed as “frivolous, misleading and legally incorrect” attempts at derailing a “project that aims to promote inclusion and benefit marginalized sections of society”.
The size and inefficiency of India’s welfare state imposes enormous pressures on officials to improve service delivery. The scheme’s defenders invoke a democratic justification, arguing the government has a responsibility to ensure that welfare spending reaches those that are most in need.
Nandan Nilekani, chairperson of the UIDAI, has admitted that he may not have done enough to persuade people of the benefits of the scheme. But as Justice Puttaswamy insists “the way the government has gone about implementing this project is odd and illegal,” and questions about privacy still loom large.
This article was posted on 31 January 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
30 Jan 14 | India, News and features, Politics and Society, Religion and Culture
(Image: YRF/YouTube)
It an interesting introduction to his modus operandi, the new CEO of India’s censor board has described his objection to some of India’s recent blockbusters is based on the reactions of his wife and five year old daughter.
In an interview to the Mumbai Mirror, Rakesh Kumar, was quoted as saying: “After watching Shudh Desi Romance, my five-year-old daughter asked me, ‘Dad, isn’t there too much love in this movie?’ More recently, I went to see Yaariyan with her and came out visibly embarrassed. Now, I have decided not to see even a UA film with my kid.”
Predictably, reactions were fierce. Movies with a UA rating in India are tagged for parental guidance, as they might be inappropriate for young children. These movies have mild sex scenes, gory images of violence and crude language. Kumar, a former employee of the Indian Railways, might feel “inappropriate content” is making it to the big screens, however, it only serves to highlight that the censorship of movies cannot be viewed from the perspective of a five year old girl.
Aside from the many jokes being made at Kumar’s expense, a deeper issue has been brought to the surface yet again. A constitutionally mandated body under the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, the Central Board of Film Certification (CBFC) regulates any films that are to be publicly exhibited. In India, there are a number of certificates a film could be given: A for Adult, UA, unrestricted public exhibition with parental guidance, S, restricted to a special class of persons, and the coveted U, which is unrestricted public exhibition, and is also the class of movies that can be shown on Indian television at prime time.
The first question many might ask is, does India need a censor board? With all kinds of content available on television and the internet, is censoring film for “inappropriate” content still valid? However, given that India does have a censor board, the next question is who it is made up of. There are about 500 members of CBFC, who preview around 13,500 films a year. The current chair is a famous dancer, Leela Samson, who controversially commented that almost 90% of her fellow board members were “uneducated political workers who did not understand their responsibility,” for which she later had to apologise. The current, and past, CEO of the board have been serving bureaucrats, on loan for this role. The final and biggest questions of the censor board faces, is how and why films are given the certifications they are.
In a very telling essay after his stint on the CBFC, journalist Mayank Shekhar wrote about the kinds of arguments that would take place at the meetings he attended: “Over the years, the focus of the Censor Board appears to have shifted from sex and violence to people’s “hurt sentiments” – some of it possibly real, but much of it imagined.”
The truth is that there are three broad problems in the certification of Indian films. First, the film board censors movies based on their moral outrage to sex or violence (as exhibited by the new CEO’s reaction), fear of minority groups getting upset (as witnessed by Shekhar), and the attempt to keep films with controversial subjects like the politics of Kashmir away from the mainstream audience, often by giving them A certification (as experienced by filmmaker Ashvin Kumar and reported by Index).
The second is the approach of filmmakers. Some, in order to get their films on TV by getting a U certificate, are only too happy to oblige any cuts the board might suggest, betraying any artist integrity. The other extreme is filmmakers who put in scenes with the intention of crossing swords with the board, thereby garnering some press attention for the movie. Shekhar writes in his essay of producer who was very disappointed that the board was not cutting any of his violent scenes, pleading: “Come on, how will people know this film exists? I’ve made a very violent film. How will I publicise it?”
The third is the allegation that board members take bribes in exchange for lenient certifications, as reported by Mint. Some feel the board goes easy on big production houses. This is because there are great financial implications involved with the certification process. Filmmakers want to make their investments back, both from the box office and lucrative satellite rights should their films be picked up for prime time viewing on television channels — as they can be with a U rating. Five Indian filmmakers have expressed their frustration with the lack of transparency in the decision making process of the CBFC, as well as perceived political interference. “I got an SMS from a senior member of a national political party, who told me that he was now with the Censor Board so to let him know if I needed any help,” revealed filmmaker Tigmanshu Dhulia.
However, ultimately, the entire argument boils down to the moral order, real or contrived, that Indian films must subscribe to should they want to be seen by the general public — both in movie halls and at a reasonable hour on television. In 1994, the censor board asked the makers of the movie Khuddar to replace the word “sexy” in a song with the word “baby”. So lyrics went like this (translated) – “baby, baby, baby, is what people call me.” In a repeat performance of a kind, in 2009, the world “sexy” was yet again replaced, but this time with “crazy” for the television version of the film. Over the years, kissing and even some sex scenes have slipped into Hindi cinema, as has a lot of cussing and plenty of violence. Nudity is only permitted in certain movies, which is either pixelated or viewed by a long-shot. Freedom of expression certainly seems in line behind the perceived notions of vulgarity of a few.
Thankfully, satire is alive and well in India, and enough websites are taking the CBFC and its new CEO to task. Others, like filmmaker Hansal Mehta, are determined to file an RTI – Right to Information – application to question every decision the board takes. As he says: “It only takes Rs 10 (under 1GBP) to file an RTI application. We live in a democracy, no one can stop me.”
This article was published on 29 January 2014 at indexoncensorship.org
06 Jan 14 | Digital Freedom, India, News and features, Politics and Society
Social media played a significant part in Arvind Kerjiwal’s successful campaign to become chief minister of New Dehli. He is pictured here addressing auto drivers at a protest in June last year (Image: Rohit Gautam/Demotix)
Much has been written about the influence of social media in the upcoming Indian national elections, expected to take place in mid 2014.
While the two major political parties, the Congress and BJP, have invested in social media cells, the larger consensus is that the internet is still largely an urban phenomenon, and therefore, somehow, not important. According to the latest TRAI figures, rural tele-density still stands at 42%. However, the flip side is that urban tele-density, currently at 144.28%, has allowed the cities to become a litmus test of what could happen if the population was able to access the internet, therefore social media, during election time.
Against the backdrop of social media giving the average citizen a voice to express often ignored opinions, came the anti-corruption protests of 2011, led by Gandhian Anna Hazare and his commander-in-chief, former bureaucrat Arvind Kejriwal. As the two spearheaded a campaign to fight against the injustices meted out to the common man through an oppressive political system, and fought for an anti-corruption law to be passed, they found an onslaught of support over social media by the middle class. Even the TV news channels got caught up in the noble theatrics, keeping the cameras live at Anna Hazare’s hunger strike in the capital, attracting more viewers, and also more supporters for their cause.
Two years later, the bill has been passed – but Team Anna, as it was popularly called, split into two factions The first remains under the leadership of Anna Hazare, and has dissipated into the background. The second, however, has only grown in size and stature. Arvind Kejriwal, in perhaps the most maverick of moves, sits in the capital of India today as its chief minister. This, with a groundswell of support not just from the haggard residents of New Delhi, but seemingly growing support from all over the country. Many factors have contributed to this rise; however, one can certainly identify the role of social and citizen media in shaping this particular election, especially when it comes to Delhi’s middle class.
Kejriwal formally formed the Aam Aadmi Party in November 2012, which translated means the ‘Common Man Party’. They decided to contest the 2013 Delhi elections, with Kejriwal directly taking on three time Congress Chief Minister, Sheila Dixshit, in her constituency. He defeated her.
The Aam Aadmi Party today has 1, 137, 873 likes on Facebook. People can donate to the party online, and follow its leaders on Twitter. What’s more, in a clear and concise website, AAP lists out its manifesto, explanations about its constitution and decisions and even an internal complaints committee. It has a video link, a blog, and even an events page so that people can join in. As it gears up for the 2014 national elections, AAP is also inviting nominations for candidates online. This is unheard of in Indian politics, where politicians are born out of birthright or bribes.
As elections in Delhi were underway, Indian media reported that Kejriwal had admitted to learning from Barack Obama’s social media strategy of 2008, which many believe helped him win the White House. Seven thousand dedicated volunteers consisting of students, workers, people on sabbatical from their jobs, and even retired government officials joined to help AAP rise to power. They collected roughly $1.8 million USD for the campaign in 2013. After the campaign was over, analysts revealed the success of AAP with first time voters: AAP’s online coordinators talk of reaching 3.5 million people just before voting day with an app called Thunderclap, which sits on your Facebook page and tells you to go vote. There seemed to be some sort of social media pressure to be trendy and go vote when it came to the youth of Delhi. However, when it came to its low-income group supporters, AAP did not rely on the power of social media, but implemented a door-to-door strategy which would work in that demographic.
AAP has not been without its share of controversies, the most recent of which was deftly handled through opinion polling over telephone and social media. Kejriwal had announced that in the cause of a hung election in Delhi, his party would absolutely not take the support of either the BJP or Congress to form government. The situation played out exactly as they hoped it wouldn’t. So as to not go back on his word, but still have the option of forming government, AAP decided to ask the people what to do. Suddenly, the people of Delhi could vote in various ways, advising Kejriwal on what he should do. After the polls closed, Kejriwal declared that overwhelmingly, AAP supporters wanted him to form government, which he did. As expected, the BJP has alleged that the “so-called referendum” was actually members of the Congress Party spamming the poll to ensure AAP took Congress support to form government, thereby letting the defeated Congress government regain a position of power.
The takeaway from Kejriwal’s success is that social media buzz, leading to (or perhaps caused by) the mainstream media coverage, has effectively resulted in a small time activist now sharing prime time space with Prime Ministerial candidates like the Congress’s scion Rahul Gandhi and the BJP’s Narendra Modi. In the virtual world, the scales are shifting. The Times of India reports that television channels and social media immediately latched on to AAP leader Arvind Kejriwal as the new ‘hero’ who has since then been eating into Modi’s turf – that of the ‘public mind space’. In this war for public attention, Kejriwal seems to be gaining ground at Modi’s cost.
The Aam Aadmi Party and Arvind Kejriwal have certainly cornered the market on becoming heroes for promises made, aided by a masterful communication strategy. But there is more to this. Indians – residents of New Delhi – finally were able to participate in the interactive social media political campaign that they had previously only read about. The promise of an active democracy where the political leaders don’t just dictate terms but actually solicit and respond to the common man is too tempting an offer to ignore. In his first few days in office, Delhi’s new chief minister was unable to come in to the office, and almost comically tweeted that he was held back because of “loose motions.” The joke goes that perhaps some filters are necessary on social media!
However, irrespective of whether AAP delivers on all its promises or is somehow muscled out of office in a few months, it has proven something to all Indian media watchers. Social media buzz has helped in shaping the agenda for India’s largest and most important city, making a newly formed political party into a serious player in just over a year. This is significant as India has over 360 political parties, and space is limited on the national stage. With a few months to go until the national elections, one can expect more articles in the newspapers, listing out how other politicians have suddenly found the value of interacting with the common man over Facebook and Twitter, helpfully answering questions and taking feedback.
This article was p0sted on 6 Jan 2013 at indexoncensorship.org
16 Dec 13 | India, News and features
From a protest in Mumbai against Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code which, among other things, bans gay sex (Image: Abhishek Chinnappa/Demotix)
I woke up on 11 December to a phone call from my friend. She was in tears: “My parents would rather have me married than arrested. They are constantly saying that even the Supreme Court thinks my ‘lifestyle’ is illegal.” I wasn’t sure whether she was pulling a prank on me. It turns out she wasn’t. The date 11.12.13 had tossed at us a judgment that sent shockwaves through India’s LGBTQ population. The July 2009 ruling from the Dehli High Court, decriminalising sex between two consenting adult, including “gay sex”, had been overruled by the Supreme Court.
The Delhi High Court had ruled that Section 377 of the Penal Code was in violation of the Constitution — specifically Article 14 which guarantees “equality before law”, Article 15 which prohibits discrimination on the basis of “religion, race, caste, sex or place of birth” and Article 21 which protecting “life and personal liberty.” The Supreme Court, however, stated that the section can be repealed or amended only by the Indian Parliament.
“While reading down Section 377 IPC, the Division Bench of the High Court overlooked that a minuscule fraction of the country’s population constitute lesbians, gays, bisexuals or transgender people and in last more than 150 years less than 200 persons have been prosecuted (as per the reported orders) for committing offence under Section 377 IPC and this cannot be made sound basis for declaring that section ultra vires the provisions of Articles 14, 15 and 21 of the Constitution,” the Supreme Court stated. Is the implication that just because the LGBTQ community is a minority, it can do without basic human rights? If quantity is the yardstick, then surely we need not fight discrimination against the disabled, religious minorities or the tribals anymore?
After the Delhi High Court ruling, there was a general climate of optimism regarding the rights of sexual minorities. This is not to say that police harassment stopped or lesbians stopped committing suicide. Unlike in the past, this year’s the Chennai Pride march was not given permission to go along the beach, and had to change its route at the last minute. Parts of the route for the Hyderabad Pride parade was in areas with little traffic and hence had little visibility. Despite the official estimates, human rights groups like the People’s Union of Civil Liberties, Karnataka have extensively researched and published reports on how Section 377 has been widely used by the police and society at large to harass homosexuals, male sex workers and transgender people. Extortion, blackmail, rape, physical assaults have gone unreported in a climate of fear.
What if my family/neighbourhood/office comes to know of my orientation? Will I lose my job? Will my family disown me? Do I have affordable legal support at hand? These are some very basic questions that have played on the minds of hundreds of thousands within the LGBTQ community. Section 377 does not imply that one can simply be arrested for one’s sexual orientation; strict material evidence of specific sexual acts is necessary for arrest. But fear creates a vicious cycle of ignorance and more fear. Facts get subsumed and a threat becomes enough to buckle under. Combined with the country’s reactionary obscenity laws, this becomes a potent cocktail for further harassment.
Yet, organisations like Sappho for Equality have conducted regular workshops with the police and the medical establishment, and have found a largely receptive audience. Nine transgender people across the country came together to produce an album and television soaps featured queer tracks. Two of the four short films in “Bombay Talkies” — a compilation celebrating 100 years of Indian cinema, released earlier this year — dealt with the topics homosexuality and transgenderism. Commercials have targeted the modern, urban Indian LGBTQ population. So much so, that many researchers (including myself) started writing about elitism in the Queer movement. This is the backdrop against which the Supreme Court made its ruling! Where does this take us back to? Sappho’s members wonder whether they will be allowed space in governmental agencies anymore. Ranjita Sinha of ATHB (Association of Transgender/Hijra in Bengal) already reports how complaints of harassment are pouring in, citing the examples of Bijoy Maity, who was physically assaulted on the evening of the judgment by locals who did not want an “effeminate” neighbour.
The media has been largely supportive but this support has a flip side too. Each time they flash the ticker, “Homosexuality criminalised”, they end up perpetuating a climate of fear. Yet, Section 377 is not only about the rights of sexual minorities to be themselves and to choose how and whom they love. It also criminalises sex “against the order of nature” and hence even heterosexuals practising oral and anal sex — in other words non procreative sex — can fall within its ambit. The State is entering your bedroom and infringing your integrity and your bodily autonomy — it is dictating your sex life. Anybody, irrespective of sexual orientation, should be concerned by this judgment, a fact yet to be highlighted by the media. The largest democracy of the world is faced with a very basic question. Is it even a democracy if it cannot uphold the fundamental rights of its citizens? As we ponder this question, come on the streets and scream for our rights, my friend and many like her are faced with the uphill task of claiming and reclaiming their right to be themselves.
