The case of Shifa-ur-Rehman, an activist accused under the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA) for alleged involvement in the February 2020 Delhi riots, raises questions far beyond his personal plea for bail. It speaks to a larger concern about the balance between national security and civil liberties, and about whether India’s most stringent anti-terror law is being used with fairness, precision, and constitutional restraint.
Mr Rehman, along with activists Umar Khalid, Sharjeel Imam, Gulfisha Fatima, and Meeran Haider, has been accused of being among the “masterminds” of the riots that claimed 53 lives and injured over 700. The prosecution’s case links the violence to protests against the Citizenship (Amendment) Act (CAA) and the proposed National Register of Citizens (NRC). Mr Rehman’s counsel has now argued before the Supreme Court that he was “cherry-picked” and that no offence under UAPA is made out. The court’s decision will inevitably influence not only his fate but also the interpretation of one of India’s most controversial laws.
The UAPA, designed to combat terrorism and threats to national integrity, grants the state exceptional powers, including prolonged detention without trial and stringent bail conditions. Its threshold for what constitutes a “terrorist act” is wide, and its misuse has been repeatedly flagged by human rights advocates and legal experts. The Delhi riots cases have become emblematic of this debate. While the government insists that these prosecutions target those who conspired to provoke communal violence, critics say the law is being weaponised to criminalise dissent and to conflate protest with terrorism.
It is worth recalling that protest is not rebellion. The Constitution of India guarantees the right to peaceful assembly and free expression. Protests against the CAA and NRC, whatever one’s political position on them, largely fell within that constitutional space. The violence that followed must, of course, be investigated and punished but justice must not blur the line between violent conspiracies and legitimate political opposition.
If the Supreme Court finds that the application of UAPA in this instance lacks merit, it will be a much-needed reaffirmation of the principle that extraordinary laws must be applied only in extraordinary circumstances. The slow pace of trials under UAPA, combined with prolonged incarceration of the accused, effectively turns the process itself into punishment. In such cases, bail becomes not a matter of privilege, but a test of the judiciary’s ability to protect liberty against the weight of the state.
The Delhi riots were a tragic chapter in the city’s history, a moment when law and order broke down, and the social fabric was torn by hate and fear. The response to that tragedy must not repeat its injustice in another form. Upholding the rule of law requires more than conviction; it requires fairness, consistency, and courage.
As the Supreme Court examines Mr Rehman’s plea, the broader question lingers: Can India confront extremism without eroding the very freedoms it seeks to protect? The answer, and the integrity of Indian democracy itself, may well depend on how it chooses to respond.
