The news that India’s ruling Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) failed to secure a parliamentary majority in the recent election shocked almost everyone. Despite exit polls forecasting a landslide win, a beleaguered opposition secured unexpected victories.
For Prime Minister Narendra Modi, this was a personal setback. Once touting his divine endorsement to govern, he barely won his own seat. He now clings to power through the much more earthly expedient of the National Democratic Alliance (NDA), a coalition whose participants are eager to wield influence.
How did this happen? BJP supporters emphasize dirty tactics from a disorganized and crippled opposition. Critics say the BJP’s lackluster performance was driven by its poor record; the party’s polarizing ethnocentrism and Islamophobia; and neoliberal economic policies that have exacerbated inequality while failing to address joblessness and inflation.
These narratives are intriguing, but they all miss a key variable driving the surprising election result: the BJP’s decade-long crackdown on free speech. Leading up to the election, Team Modi made some blunders related to expressive liberties and failed to correct them. This galvanized a far-flung coalition of unlikely allies. Timely judicial rulings on free speech allowed these allies to coalesce outside the sightlines of centralized power. This coalition, which lacks even a formal name, is arguably the true victor of the recent Indian election and could shape Indian politics and inspire democracy-watchers across the world.
In retrospect, the BJPs misstep is easy to spot. In February, it unveiled the election slogan “400 paar” (“400+”), indicating the party’s aim to increase its share of seats in parliament from around 330 to 400. The ostensible goal was to get a parliamentary supermajority that would facilitate new constitutional amendments.
The announcement left many Indians spooked. Muslims feared the implementation of draconian citizenship laws. Dalits (Hindus who are historically marginalized in the caste system) feared the cancellation of affirmative action programs. Journalists, academics, public intellectuals and citizens, already squeezed after a decade of restrictions, feared total marginalization.
In normal circumstances, a government would see, hear and feel such citizen backlash. But this government has not held a press conference in its decade in power. The media is now mostly owned by pro-government businesses; India stands at a dismal rank of 159 out of 181 countries in the Freedom of Press Index. Speech is heavily restricted.
The IT Rules Act of 2021 and compliant American technology companies have given the government the power to censor online speech, which it has eagerly exploited. In preparation for elections, the BJP established a “Fact Checking Unit (FCU)” to take down anti-government content. Any dissenting citizen now faced an opponent and referee rolled into one. Some went to jail. Most muzzled themselves.
But then came a surprise. On March 21, the Supreme Court suspended the FCU, citing constitutional concerns. Just before that, it dismissed criminal proceedings against a professor who had critiqued the ruling party’s policies in Kashmir on WhatsApp. On April 8, the court also restored the bail granted to a YouTuber who criticized a political leader online. In a now famous line, Justice Oka asked the government’s lawyer, “If before elections, we start putting behind bars everyone who makes allegations on YouTube, imagine how many will be jailed?”
Social media became a safe space for independent journalists and influencers to challenge the government and its fawning media. Record numbers flocked online for satire, comedy and live events. Dhruv Rathee, a vlogger with 22 million subscribers, tripled his following during May. One of his videos, titled “Is India becoming a DICTATORSHIP?” gathered 27 million views. Videos by independent journalist Akash Banerjee (aka Deshbhakt) emphasizing constitutional protections as well as daily economic issues gained 45 million views in just a single month. These independent journalists, some argue, beat the media-savvy BJP at their own game.
The opposition — the Indian National Developmental Inclusive Alliance (I.N.D.I.A), a messy coalition of 42 small parties headed by the Indian National Congress (INC) — saw common denominators among disparate supporters. By April, they adopted the campaign slogan of “samvidhan bachao” (save the constitution). The INC leader, Rahul Gandhi, began to carry a copy of the constitution at rallies. Others, like the Samajwadi Party, combined these messages with themes of social justice. Young leaders like Kanhaiya Kumar, once jailed for sedition, sprung onto the national stage with scathing criticisms of those in power.
The formula worked. The INDIA Bloc won 232 seats out of 543, doubling its strength from the last election. Though Modi has been sworn in as prime minister, two “kingmakers” in his coalition — Nitish Kumar and Chandrababu Naidu — could dethrone him by switching to the INDIA bloc.
The real victor here is the motley coalition of voters who delivered a course correction for Indian democracy — a poignant echo of India’s historic freedom struggle.
So what will change after this election? Some might say, “Not much.” The BJP remains in power. Muslims and Dalits are still underrepresented in new ministries. The government intends to continue with restrain speech via proposed bills such as the Telecommunications Bill, Broadcasting Services Bill and Digital Personal Data Protection Act.
Yet there’s hope. The kingmakers, opposition and courts are poised to push back, reining in the BJP’s authoritarian and anti-secular tendencies. Most importantly, the free speech coalition seems to be here to stay. As Dhruv Rathee recently stated, “wherever democracy is weakening in the world, and people need courage, let our story be an inspiration for them.”
Shareen Joshi is an associate professor at the Edmund A. Walsh School of Foreign Service at Georgetown University.