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It has less than six months since Divyendra Singh Jadoun, the 31-year-old founder of an artificial intelligence (AI) powered synthetic media company, started making content for political parties in India. Within this short time he has risen to be known as the “Indian Deepfaker” as several political parties across the ideological spectrum reach out to him for digital campaigning.
Jadoun’s meteoric rise has a lot to do with the fact that close to a billion people are voting in India’s elections, the longest and largest in the world, which started last month. He says he doesn’t know of a single political party that hasn’t sought him out to enhance their outreach. “They [political parties] don’t reach out to us directly, though. Their PR agencies and political consultants ask us to make content for them,” said Jadoun, who runs the AI firm Polymath, based in a small town known for its temples in the north Indian state of Rajasthan and which has nine employees.
In India’s fiercely divided election landscape, AI has emerged as a newfound fascination, particularly as the right-wing ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) vies for an unusual third consecutive term. The apprehension surrounding technology’s capabilities in a nation plagued by misinformation has raised concerns among experts.
Jadoun says his team has been asked many times to produce content which they find highly unethical. He has been asked to fabricate audio recordings that show rival candidates making embarrassing mistakes during their speeches or to overlay opponents’ faces onto explicit images.
“A lot of the content political parties or their agents ask us to make is on these lines, so we have to say no to a lot of work,” Jadoun told Index on Censorship.
Certain campaign teams have even sought subpar counterfeit videos from Jadoun, featuring their own candidate, which they intend to deploy to discredit any potentially damaging authentic footage that surfaces during the election period.
“We refuse all such requests. But I am not sure if every agency will have such filters, so we do see a lot of misuse of technology in these elections,” he says.
“What we offer is simply replacing the traditional methods of campaigning by using AI. For example, if a leader wants to shoot a video to reach out to each and every one of his party members, it will take a lot of time. So we use some parts of deep-fakes to create personalised messages for their party members or cadres,” Jadoun adds.
India’s elections are deeply polarised and the ruling right-wing BJP has employed a vicious anti-minority campaign to win over the majority Hindu voters- who roughly form 80% of the electorate. The surge in use of AI reflects both its potential and the concerns, amidst widespread misinformation. A survey by cybersecurity firm McAfee, taken last year, found that over 75% of Indian internet users have encountered various types of deepfake content while online.
Some of the most disturbing content features various dead politicians have been resurrected through AI to sway voters. Earlier this year, regional All India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam Party’s (AIADMK) official account shared an audio clip featuring a virtual rendition of Jayalalithaa, a revered Tamil political figure who passed away in 2016. In the speech, her AI avatar aimed to inspire young party members, advocating for the party’s return to power and endorsing current candidates for the 2024 general elections.
Jayalalithaa’s AI resurrection is not an isolated case.
In another instance, just four days prior to the start of India’s general election, a doctored video appeared on Instagram featuring the late Indian politician H Vasanthakumar. In the video, Vasanthakumar voices support for his son Vijay Vasanth, a sitting Member of Parliament who is contesting the election in his father’s erstwhile constituency.
The ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), known for its use of technology to polarise voters, has also shared a montage showcasing Prime Minister Modi’s accomplishments on its verified Instagram profile. The montage featured the synthesized voice of the late Indian singer Mahendra Kapoor, generated using AI.
Troll accounts subscribing to the ideology of different political parties are also employing AI and deepfakes to create narratives and counter-narratives. Bollywood star Ranveer Singh in a tweet last month cautioned his followers to be vigilant against deepfakes as a manipulated video circulated on social media platforms, where Singh appeared to criticise Modi. Using an AI-generated voice clone, the altered video falsely portrayed Singh lambasting Modi over issues of unemployment and inflation, and advocating for citizens to support the main opposition party, the Indian National Congress (INC). In reality, he had praised Modi in the original video.
“AI has permeated mainstream politics in India,” said Sanyukta Dharmadhikari – deputy editor of Logically Facts, who leads a team of seven members to fact-check misinformation in different vernacular languages.
Dharmadhikari says that countering disinformation or misinformation becomes extremely difficult in an election scenario as false information consistently spreads more rapidly than fact-checks, particularly when it aligns with a voter’s confirmation bias. “If you believe a certain politician is capable of a certain action, a deepfake portraying them in such a scenario can significantly hinder fact-checking efforts to dispel that misinformation,” she told Index on Censorship.
Amidst growing concerns, the Indian government rushed to regulate AI by asking tech companies to obtain approval before releasing new tools, just a month before elections. This is a substantial shift from its earlier position when it informed Indian Parliament of not interfering in how AI is being used in the country. Critics argue that the move might be another attempt to selectively weigh down on opposition and limit freedom of expression. The Modi government has been widely accused of abusing central agencies to target the opposition while overlooking allegations involving its own leaders or that of its coalition partners.
“There needs to be a political will to effectively regulate AI, which seems amiss,” says Dharmadhikari. “Even though the Information Ministry at first seemed concerned at the misuse of deepfakes, but gradually we have seen they have expressed no concerns about their dissemination especially if something is helping [PM] Modi,” she added.
Chaitanya Rohilla, a lawyer based in Delhi, who initiated a Public Interest Litigation (PIL) at the Delhi High Court concerning the unregulated use of AI and deepfakes in the country believes that as technology unfolds at breakneck speed, the need for robust legal frameworks to safeguard against AI’s emerging threats is more pressing than ever.
“The government is saying that we are working on it…We are working on rules to bring about or to specifically target these deepfakes. But the problem is the pace at which the government is working, it is actually not in consonance with how the technology is changing,” Rohilla told Index on Censorship.
Rohilla’s PIL had requested the judiciary to restrict access to websites that produce deepfakes. The proposal suggested that such websites should be mandated to label AI-generated content and be prohibited from generating illicit material.
But Indian courts have refused to intervene.
“The information Technology Act that we have in our country is not suitable; it’s not competent to handle how dynamically the AI environment is changing. So as the system is unchecked and unregulated it (deepfake dissemination) would just keep on happening and happening.”
The Spring 2024 issue of Index looks at how authoritarian states are bypassing borders in order to clamp down on dissidents who have fled their home state. In this issue we investigate the forms that transnational repression can take, as well as highlighting examples of those who have been harassed, threatened or silenced by the long arm of the state.
The writers in this issue offer a range of perspectives from countries all over the world, with stories from Turkey to Eritrea to India providing a global view of how states operate when it comes to suppressing dissidents abroad. These experiences serve as a warning that borders no longer come with a guarantee of safety for those targeted by oppressive regimes.
Border control, by Jemimah Steinfeld: There's no safe place for the world's dissidents. World leaders need to act.
The Index, by Mark Frary: A glimpse at the world of free expression, featuring Indian elections, Predator spyware and a Bahraini hunger strike.
Just passing through, by Eduardo Halfon: A guided tour through Guatemala's crime traps.
Exporting the American playbook, by Amy Fallon: The culture wars are finding new ground in Canada, where the freedom to read is the latest battle.
The couple and the king, by Clemence Manyukwe: Tanele Maseko saw her activist husband killed in front of her eyes, but it has not stopped her fight for democracy.
Obrador's parting gift, by Chris Havler-Barrett: Journalists are free to report in Mexico, as long as it's what the president wants to hear.
Silencing the faithful, by Simone Dias Marques: Brazil's religious minorities are under attack.
The anti-abortion roadshow, by Rebecca L Root: The USA's most controversial new export could be a campaign against reproductive rights.
The woman taking on the trolls, by Daisy Ruddock: Tackling disinformation has left Marianna Spring a victim of trolling, even by Elon Musk.
Broken news, by Mehran Firdous: The founder of The Kashmir Walla reels from his time in prison and the banning of his news outlet.
Who can we trust?, by Kimberley Brown: Organised crime and corruption have turned once peaceful Ecuador into a reporter's nightmare.
The cost of being green, by Thien Viet: Vietnam's environmental activists are mysteriously all being locked up on tax charges.
Who is the real enemy?, by Raphael Rashid: Where North Korea is concerned, poetry can go too far - according to South Korea.
The law, when it suits him, by JP O'Malley: Donald Trump could be making prison cells great again.
Nowhere is safe, by Alexander Dukalskis: Introducing the new and improved ways that autocracies silence their overseas critics.
Welcome to the dictator's playground, by Kaya Genç: When it comes to safeguarding immigrant dissidents, Turkey has a bad reputation.
The overseas repressors who are evading the spotlight, by Emily Couch: It's not all Russia, China and Saudi Arabia. Central Asian governments are reaching across borders too.
Everything everywhere all at once, by Daisy Ruddock: It's both quantity and quality when it comes to how states attack dissent abroad.
A fatal game of international hide and seek, by Danson Kahyana: After leaving Eritrea, one writer lives in constants fear of being kidnapped or killed.
Our principles are not for sale, by Jirapreeya Saeboo: The Thai student publisher who told China to keep their cash bribe.
Refused a passport, by Sally Gimson: A lesson from Belarus in how to obstruct your critics.
Be nice, or you're not coming in, by Salil Tripathi: Is the murder of a Sikh activist in Canada the latest in India's cross-border control.
An agency for those denied agency, by Amy Fallon: The Sikh Press Association's members are no strangers to receiving death threats.
Always looking behind, by Zhou Fengsuo and Nathan Law: If you're a Tiananmen protest leader or the face of Hong Kong's democracy movement, China is always watching.
Putting Interpol on notice, by Tommy Greene: For dissidents who find themselves on Red Notice, it's all about location, location, location
Living in Russia's shadow, by Irina Babloyan, Andrei Soldatov and Kirill Martynov: Three Russian journalists in exile outline why paranoia around their safety is justified.
Solidarity, Assange-style, by Martin Bright: Our editor-at-large on his own experience working with Assange.
Challenging words, by Emma Briant: An academic on what to do around the weaponisation of words.
Good, bad and everything that's in between, by Ruth Anderson: New threats to free speech call for new approaches.
Ukraine's disappearing ink, by Victoria Amelina and Stephen Komarnyckyj: One of several Ukrainian writers killed in Russia's war, Amelina's words live on.
One-way ticket to freedom?, by Ghanem Al Masarir and Jemimah Steinfeld: A dissident has the last laugh on Saudi, when we publish his skit.
The show must go on, by Katie Dancey-Downs, Yahya Marei and Bahaa Eldin Ibdah: In the midst of war Palestine's Freedom Theatre still deliver cultural resistance, some of which is published here.
Fight for life - and language, by William Yang: Uyghur linguists are doing everything they can to keep their culture alive.
Freedom is very fragile, by Mark Frary and Oleksandra Matviichuk: The winner of the 2022 Nobel Peace Prize on looking beyond the Nuremberg Trials lens.
In January this year, when Raqib Hameed Naik received a notice from X (formerly Twitter) that Hindutva Watch was blocked on the platform by order of the country’s ruling Hindu–nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), he was not surprised. The government had submitted more than 28 legal requests to X in the past two years, seeking removal of Watch's posts. As well as the X account being blocked in India, the Hindutva Watch website was, and is, also inaccessible in the country.
“While shocking, it’s not surprising, considering Prime Minister Modi regime’s history of suppressing free press & critical voices,” Naik wrote on X on 16 January in reaction to the ban.
Naik, a journalist reporting on conflict and marginalisation of minorities, founded and runs US-based independent research project Hindutva Watch, which tracks hate crimes by right–wing Hindus against Muslims, Christians and members of the historically oppressed castes in India. The website of India Hate Lab, another initiative by Naik that is exclusively dedicated to tracking hate speech in India, has also been rendered inaccessible in the country.
Various law enforcement agencies have frequently attempted to erase Hindutva Watch and India Hate Lab’s documentation of hate crime and speech towards minorities, primarily on the pretext of violating India's controversial Information Technology (IT) Act 2000, though the government never clarified which specific laws were violated by the two websites.
The IT Act grants authorities the power to block access to information under the guise of safeguarding India's “sovereignty, integrity, and security”. In 2022, the country's Supreme Court invalidated a provision of the Act which empowered the government to prosecute individuals for sharing “offensive” messages online. Various governments, irrespective of political affiliations, had misused the provision to detain ordinary civilians critical of the government.
Hailing from the conflict-ridden India-administered Jammu and Kashmir, Naik started working as a journalist in 2014. He said it was evident for him from the beginning of his career that the government was vindictive against journalists and media outlets who reported critically on them, especially from sensitive areas like Kashmir. The situation, he believes, is worse for journalists from minority communities.
“The assault on the pillars of free press, coupled with the anti–minority policies and generation of an atmosphere grounded in hate and violence towards minority communities, profoundly affected me, as a Kashmiri Muslim journalist,” he told Index.
Naik's fears were not unfounded. Initially covering political conflict and human rights in Kashmir and later on religious minorities and Hindu nationalism in India, he was among the handful of journalists who was able to report on the revocation of Kashmir’s autonomy by the BJP in 2019 amidst a tight curfew and communication blockade, including internet shutdowns for several months in the Himalayan valley.
As Naik's reporting on Kashmir’s unrest gained international recognition, it also landed him in trouble. He faced questioning from the country's intelligence officers and frequent inquiries from the police about his whereabouts and work, putting pressure on his family.
“It's pure harassment but also a debilitating feeling,” said Naik, who is currently in the USA, since fleeing India in 2020 as the death threats and harassment for his reporting ramped up.
“Four years have passed, and I haven't been home since. The thought of being unable to go home indefinitely just breaks my heart,” he said. “But then, I have to gather strength because there are very few journalists left in the country to tell and humanise stories of the minorities.”
Initially running the two websites and their X accounts anonymously from Massachusetts in the USA, Naik created a unique and robust digital database of human rights abuses, which routinely occur from big cities to remote villages in what is considered the world’s largest democracy. Yet, such cases do not receive adequate mainstream press coverage in India. Interestingly, two news outlets from the country, Hindustan Times and IndiaSpend, made attempts to monitor hate crimes only to stop their operations in 2017 and 2019 respectively.
Modi's tenure so far has been marred with an increased suppression of dissent, targeting critics such as journalists, activists, academics, lawmakers and minority communities in India. Shortly before Hindutva Watch and India Hate Lab were blocked, Modi presided over the consecration of the new Ram temple, constructed on the ruins of a historic Mughal–era mosque which was demolished by a mob in 1992. The ensuing riots took over 2,000 lives while the site remained a point of contention for over three decades.
According to IndiaSpend’s Citizen’s Religious Hate Crime Watch, a data–driven news platform, around 90% of religiously-motivated hate crimes that have occurred since 2009 did so after the BJP took power on a national level in 2014.
The scale of these hate crimes remains obscured. After 2017, the country’s national crime bureau stopped keeping a separate record on hate crimes or lynching. Naik’s project keeps track of such incidents in absence of any documentation by authorities or media in the country. Run by a small group of 12 volunteers spread across five countries, Naik’s project documents two to four hate events daily using video and picture evidence submitted by a network of Indian activists and citizens.
“Since 2021, we have documented and archived thousands of videos and stories on hate crimes and hate speeches,” Naik said. “Our efforts have led to actionable outcomes in states where law agencies were willing to take a stand against right–wing members involved in such activities.”
“What we have collected serves as the evidence for facilitating judicial intervention, particularly in cases related to hate speech,” he added.
According to the latest report released by India Hate Lab before it was blocked in India, nearly two anti–Muslim hate speech events took place every day in 2023 and around 75% of those occurred in states ruled by the BJP. Collating a total of 668 hate speech events, the report observed that the cases peaked between August and November in 2023 – the period of political campaigning and polling in four major states in the country.
In India, press freedom also took a severe plunge under Modi’s leadership and with people now heading to the polls, Naik worries that blocking of his websites could tighten the government's grip on the information ecosystem in the country.
Despite the suspension, he remains undeterred in continuing his work. He says: “There is extreme fear. And the climate of fear may continue to stifle reporting. But I know there are journalists who won't succumb or surrender. I see hope in them.”
Read more about how authorities are silencing their critics across borders in the upcoming issue of Index. For a 50% discounted subscription to our digital edition, visit our page on Exact Editions and use the code Spring24 here
The Winter 2023 issue of Index looks at how comedians are being targeted by oppressive regimes around the world in order to crack down on dissent. In this issue, we attempt to uncover the extent of the threat to comedy worldwide, highlighting examples of comedians being harassed, threatened or silenced by those wishing to censor them.
The writers in this issue report on example of comedians being targeted all over the globe, from Russia to Uganda to Brazil. Laughter is often the best medicine in dark times, making comedy a vital tool of dissent. When the state places restrictions on what people can joke about and suppresses those who breach their strict rules, it's no laughing matter.
Still laughing, just, by Jemimah Steinfeld: When free speech becomes a laughing matter.
The Index, by Mark Frary: The latest in the world of free expression, from Russian elections to a memorable gardener
Silent Palestinians, by Samir El-Youssef: Voices of reason are being stamped out.
Soundtrack for a siege, by JP O'Malley: Bosnia’s story of underground music, resistance and Bono.
Libraries turned into Arsenals, by Sasha Dovzhyk: Once silent spaces in Ukraine are pivotal in times of war.
Shot by both sides, by Martin Bright: The Russian writers being cancelled.
A sinister news cycle, by Winthrop Rodgers: A journalist speaks out from behind bars in Iraqi Kurdistan.
Smoke, fire and a media storm, by John Lewinski: Can respect for a local culture and media scrutiny co-exist? The aftermath of disaster in Hawaii has put this to the test.
Message marches into lives and homes, by Anmol Irfan: How Pakistan's history of demonising women's movements is still at large today.
A snake devouring its own tail, by JS Tennant: A Cuban journalist faces civic death, then forced emigration.
A 'seasoned dissident' speaks up, by Martin Bright: Writing against Russian authority has come full circle for Gennady Katsov.
And God created laughter (so fuck off), by Shalom Auslander: On failing to be serious, and trading rabbis for Kafka.
The jokes that are made - and banned - in China, by Jemimah Steinfeld: Journalist turned comedian Vicky Xu is under threat after exposing Beijing’s crimes but in comedy she finds a refuge.
Giving Putin the finger, by John Sweeney: Reflecting on a comedy festival that tells Putin to “fuck off”.
Meet the Iranian cartoonist who had to flee his country, by Daisy Ruddock: Kianoush Ramezani is laughing in the face of the Ayatollah.
The SLAPP stickers, by Rosie Holt and Charlie Holt: Sometimes it’s not the autocrats, or the audience, that comedians fear, it’s the lawyers.
This great stage of fools, by Danson Kahyana: A comedy troupe in Uganda pushes the line on acceptable speech.
Joke's on Lukashenka speaking rubbish Belarusian. Or is it?, by Maria Sorensen: Comedy under an authoritarian regime could be hilarious, it it was allowed.
Laughing matters, by Daisy Ruddock: Knock knock. Who's there? The comedy police.
Taliban takeover jokes, by Spozhmai Maani and Rizwan Sharif: In Afghanistan, the Taliban can never by the punchline.
Turkey's standups sit down, by Kaya Genç: Turkey loses its sense of humour over a joke deemed offensive.
An unfunny double act, by Thiện Việt: A gold-plated steak and a maternal slap lead to problems for two comedians in Vietnam.
Dragged down, by Tilewa Kazeem: Nigeria's queens refuse to be dethroned.
Turning sorrow into satire, by Zahra Hankir: A lesson from Lebanon: even terrible times need comedic release.
'Hatred has won, the artist has lost', by Salil Tripathi: Hindu nationalism and cries of blasphemy are causing jokes to land badly in India.
Did you hear the one about...? No, you won't have, by Alexandra Domenech: Putin has strangled comedy in Russia, but that doesn't stop Russian voices.
Of Conservatives, cancel culture and comics, by Simone Marques: In Brazil, a comedy gay Jesus was met with Molotov cocktails.
Standing up for Indigenous culture, by Katie Dancey-Downs: Comedian Janelle Niles deals in the uncomfortable, even when she'd rather not.
Your truth or mine, by Bobby Duffy: Debate: Is there a free speech crisis on UK campuses?
All the books that might not get written, by Andrew Lownie: Freedom of information faces a right royal problem.
An image or a thousand words?, by Ruth Anderson: When to look at an image and when to look away.
Lukashenka's horror dream, by Alhierd Bacharevič and Mark Frary: The Belarusian author’s new collection of short stories is an act of resistance. We publish one for the first time in English.
Lost in time and memory, by Xue Tiwei: In a new short story, a man finds himself haunted by the ghosts of executions.
The hunger games, by Stephen Komarnyckyj and Mykola Khvylovy: The lesson of a Ukrainian writer’s death must be remembered today.
The woman who stopped Malta's mafia taking over, by Paul Caruana Galizia: Daphne Caruana Galizia’s son reckons with his mother’s assassination.