How (not) to get away with murder: Reviewing Facebook’s live streaming guidelines

Introduction

The recent shooting in Cleveland live streamed on Facebook has brought the social media company’s regulatory responsibilities into question. Since the launch of Facebook Live in 2016, the service’s role in raising political awareness has been acknowledged. However, the service has also been used to broadcast several instances of graphic violence.

The streaming of violent content (including instances of suicide, murders and gang rapes) has raised serious questions about Facebook’s responsibility as an intermediary. While it is not technically feasible for Facebook to review all live videos while they’re being streamed or filter them before they’re streamed, the platform does have a routine procedure in place to take down such content. This post will visit the guidelines in place to take down live streamed content and discuss alternatives to the existing reporting mechanism.

What guidelines are in place?

Facebook has ‘community standards’ in place.  However, their internal regulation methods are unknown to the public. Live videos have to be in compliance with ‘community standards’, which specifies that Facebook will remove content relating to ‘direct threats’, self-injury’, ‘dangerous organizations’, ‘bullying and harassment’, ‘attacks on public figures’, ‘criminal activity’ and ‘sexual violence and exploitation’.

The company has stated that it ‘only takes one report for something to be reviewed’.  This system of review has been criticized since graphic content could go unnoticed without a report. In addition, this form of reporting would be unsuccessful since there is no mandate of ‘compulsory reporting’ for the viewers.  Incidentally, the Cleveland shooting video was not detected by Facebook until it was flagged as ‘offensive’, which was a couple of hours after the incident. The company has also stated that they are working on developing ‘artificial intelligence’ that could help put an end to these broadcasts. However, they currently rely on the reporting mechanism, where ‘thousands of people around the world’ review posts that have been reported against. The reviewers check if the content goes against the ‘community standards’ and ‘prioritize videos with serious safety implications’.

While deciding if a video should be taken down, the reviewers will also take the ‘context and degree’ of the content into consideration. For instance, content that is aimed at ‘raising awareness’, even if it displays violence, will be allowed. However, content that is celebrating such violence would be taken down. To demonstrate, when a live video of civilian Philando Castile being shot by a police officer in Minnesota went viral, Facebook kept the video up on their platform, stating that it did not glorify the violent act.

 Regulation

Other than the internal guidelines by which Facebook regulates itself, there haven’t been instances of government regulators, like the United States’ Federal Communications Commission intervening. Unlike the realm of television, where the FCC regulates content and deems material ‘inappropriate’, social media websites are protected from content regulation.

This brings up the question of intermediary liability and Facebook’s liability for hosting graphic content. Under American Law, there is a distinction between ‘publishers’ and ‘common carriers’. A common carrier only ‘enables communications’ and does not ‘publish content’. If a platform edits content, it is most likely a publisher. A ‘publisher’ has a higher level of responsibility for content hosted on their platform, unlike a ‘carrier’. In most instances, social media companies are covered under Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act, a safe harbor provision, by which they would not be held liable for third-party content.  However, questions have been raised about Facebook’s role as a ‘publisher’ or ‘common carrier’, and there seems to be no conclusive answer.

Conclusion

Several experts have considered possible solutions to this growing problem. Some believe that such features should be limited to certain partners and should be opened up to the public once additional safeguards and better artificial intelligence technologies are in place. In these precarious situations, enforcing stricter laws on intermediaries might not resolve the issue at hand. Some jurisdictions have ‘mandatory reporting’ provisions, specifically for crimes of sexual assault. In India, under Section 19 of the Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Act, 2012 ‘any person who has apprehension that an offence…is likely to be committed or has knowledge that such an offence has been committed’ has to report such an offence. In the context of cyber-crimes, this system of ‘mandatory reporting’ would shift the onus on the viewers and supplement the existing reporting system. Mandatory provisions of this nature do not exist in the United States where most of the larger social media companies are based.

Similarly, possible solutions should focus on strengthening the existing reporting system, rather than holding social media platforms liable.

Reviewing the Law Commission’s latest hate speech recommendations

Introduction

The Law Commission has recently released a report on hate speech laws in India. The Supreme Court in Pravasi Bhalai vs. Union of India  asked the Law Commission to recommend changes to existing hate speech laws, and to “define the term hate speech”. The report discusses the history of hate speech jurisprudence in India and in certain other jurisdictions. In addition, it stresses upon the difficulty of defining hate speech and the lack of a concise definition. In the absence of such a definition, certain ‘identifying criterion’ have been mentioned, to detect instances of hate speech. It also discusses the theories of Jeremy Waldron (the ‘dignity’ principle) and makes a case for protecting the interests of minority communities by regulating speech. In this regard, two new sections for the IPC have been proposed. They are as follows:

(i) Prohibiting incitement to hatred-

“153 C. Whoever on grounds of religion, race, caste or community, sex, gender identity, sexual orientation, place of birth, residence, language, disability or tribe –

(a)  uses gravely threatening words either spoken or written, signs, visible representations within the hearing or sight of a person with the intention to cause, fear or alarm; or

(b)  advocates hatred by words either spoken or written, signs, visible representations, that causes incitement to violence shall be punishable with imprisonment of either description for a term which may extend to two years, and fine up to Rs 5000, or with both.”.

(ii) Causing fear, alarm, or provocation of violence in certain cases.

“505 A. Whoever in public intentionally on grounds of religion, race, caste or community, sex, gender, sexual orientation, place of birth, residence, language, disability or tribe-

uses words, or displays any writing, sign, or other visible representation which is gravely threatening, or derogatory;

(i) within the hearing or sight of a person, causing fear or alarm, or;

(ii) with the intent to provoke the use of unlawful violence,

against that person or another, shall be punished with imprisonment for a term which may extend to one year and/or fine up to Rs 5000, or both”.

The author is of the opinion that these recommended amendments are vague and broadly worded and could lead to a chilling effect and over-censorship. Here are a few reasons why the recommendations might not be compatible with free speech jurisprudence:

  1. Three – part test

Article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights lays down three requirements that need be fulfilled to ensure that a restriction on free speech is warranted. The Law Commission report also discusses this test; it includes the necessity of a measure being ‘prescribed by law’, the need for a ‘legitimate aim’ and the test of ‘necessity and proportionality’.

Under the ‘prescribed by law’ standard, it is necessary for a restriction on free speech to be ‘clear and not ambiguous’. For instance, a phrase like ‘fear or alarm’ (existing in Section 153A and Section 505) has been criticized for being ‘vague’. Without defining or restricting this term, the public would not be aware of what constitutes ‘fear or alarm’ and would not know how to comply with the law. This standard has also been reiterated in Shreya Singhal vs. Union of India, where it was held that the ambiguously worded Section 66A could be problematic for innocent people since they would not be aware as to “which side of the line they fall” towards.

  1. Expanding scope to online offences?

The newly proposed sections also mention that any ‘gravely threatening words within the hearing or sight of a person’ would be penalized. Presumably, the phrase ‘within the sight or hearing of a person’ broadens the scope of this provision and could allow online speech to come under the ambit of the IPC. This phrase is similar to the wording of Section 5 (1) of the Criminal Justice (Public Order) Act, 1986[1] in the United Kingdom, which penalizes “harassment, alarm or distress”. Even though the section does not explicitly mention that it would cover offences on the internet, it has been presumed to do so.[2]

Similarly, if the intent of the framers of Section 153C is to expand the scope to cover online offences, it might introduce the same issues as the omitted Section 66A of the IT Act did. Section 66A intended to penalize the transmission of information which was ‘menacing’ and also which promoted ‘hatred or ill will’. The over-breadth of the terms in the section led to scrapping it. Another reason for scrapping the section was the lowering of the ‘incitement’ threshold (discussed below). Even though the proposed Section 153C does not provide for as many grounds (hatred, ill will, annoyance, etc.), it does explicitly lower the threshold from ‘incitement’ to ‘fear or alarm’/’discrimination’.

  1. The standard of ‘hate speech’

 The report also advocates for penalizing the ‘fear or alarm’ caused by such speech, since it could potentially have the effect of ‘marginalizing a section of the society’. As mentioned above, it has been explicitly mentioned that the threshold of ‘incitement to violence’ should be lowered and factors like ‘incitement to discrimination’ should also be considered.

The Shreya Singhal judgment drew a distinction between ‘discussion, advocacy and incitement’, stating that a restriction justifiable under Article 19(1) (a) of the Constitution would have to amount to ‘incitement’ and not merely ‘discussion’ or ‘advocacy’. This distinction was drawn so that discussing or advocating ideas which could lead to problems with ‘public order’ or disturbing the ‘security of the state’ could be differentiated from ‘incitement’ which establishes more of a ‘causal connection’.

Similarly, if the words used contribute to causing ‘fear or alarm’, the threshold of ‘incitement’ would be lowered, and constitutionally protected speech could be censored.

Conclusion

Despite the shortcomings mentioned above, the report is positive in a few ways. It draws attention to important contemporary issues affecting minority communities and how speech is often used to mobilize communities against each other. It also relies on Jeremy Waldron’s ‘dignity principle’ to make a case for imposing differing hate speech standards to protect minority communities. In addition, the grounds for discrimination now include ‘tribe’ and ‘sexual orientation’ amongst others.

However, existing case laws, coupled with recent instances of censorship, could make the insertion of these provisions troubling. India’s relationship with free speech is already dire; the Press Freedom Index ranks the country at 133 (out of 180) and the Freedom on the Net Report states that India is ‘partly free’ in this regard. The Law Commission might need to reconsider the recommendations, for the sake of upholding free speech. Pravasi Bhalai called for sanctioning politicians speeches, but the recommendations made by the Law Commission might be far reaching and the effects could be chilling.

 

[1] Section 5- Harassment, alarm or distress.
(1)A person is guilty of an offence if he—
(a)uses threatening or abusive words or behaviour, or disorderly behaviour, or
(b)displays any writing, sign or other visible representation which is threatening or abusive,
within the hearing or sight of a person likely to be caused harassment, alarm or distress thereby.

[2] David Wall, Cybercrime: The Transformation of Crime in the Information Age, Page 123, Polity.

Two Takes on the Right to be Forgotten

Last month saw important developments in the discourse around the right to be forgotten. Two high courts, Gujarat and Karnataka, delivered judgments on separate pleas to have particular judgments either removed from online repositories and search engine results or have personal information redacted from them. The Gujarat High Court dismissed the petition, holding that there was no legal basis to seek removal of a judgment from the Internet. On the other hand, the Karnataka High Court ordered the Court’s Registry to redact the aggrieved person’s name before releasing the order to any entity wanting to publish it. This post examines both judgments to understand the reasoning and legal basis for denying or accepting a claim based on the right to be forgotten.

 Gujarat High Court

According to the facts reproduced in the order, the petitioner in this case had criminal charges filed against him for several offences, including murder, which ultimately resulted in an acquittal. At the appellate stage too, the petitioner’s acquittal was confirmed. The judgment was classified as ‘non reportable’ but nevertheless published on an online portal that reproduces judgments from all superior courts in India. It was also indexed by Google, making it easily accessible. Being distressed about this, the petitioner sought ‘permanent restrain of free public exhibition of the judgement…over the Internet’.

While dismissing the petition, the Court held that it was permissible for third parties to obtain copies of the judgment under the Gujarat High Court Rules 1993, provided their application was accompanied by an affidavit and stated reasons for requiring the judgment. Moreover, it held that publication on a website did not amount to a judgment being reported, as the classification of ‘reportable’ was only relevant from the point of view of law reports. In the Court’s opinion, there was no legal basis to order such removal and the presence of the judgment on the Internet did not violate the petitioner’s rights under Article 21 – from which the right to privacy emanates.

The Court’s dismissal of the argument that a non-reportable judgment is on an equal footing with a reportable judgment is problematic, but hardly surprising. In a 2008 decision, while describing the functions of a law reporter that was a party before it, the Supreme Court observed that “the [law report] publishes all reportable judgments along with non-reportable judgments of the Supreme Court of India” The distinction between reportable and non-reportable judgments was not in issue, but it does call for some introspection on the legal basis and rationale for classification of judgments. In an article on the evolution of law reporting in India, the constitutional expert M.P Jain explains that law reports were created as a response to Indian courts adopting the doctrine of precedent. This is the doctrine that binds lower courts to decisions of the higher courts. Precedent is created when a court lays down a new principle of law or changes or clarifies existing law. Consequently, the decision to make a ruling reportable (ideally) depends on whether it sets a precedent or not. Presumably then, there is a lesser public interest in having access to non-reportable judgments as compared to reportable ones.

While there is a clear distinction between publication in a law report and publication of the transcript of the judgment, the lack of a public interest element could have been taken into account by the High Court while deciding the petition. Moreover, it is unclear how reliance on the High Court Rules helped the Court decide against the petitioner. Third parties may be entitled to obtain a copy of a judgment, but the motivation behind a right to be forgotten is to only make information less accessible, when it is determined that there is no countervailing interest in its publication. At its root, the right is intended to enable citizens to exercise greater control over their personal information, allowing them to live without the fear that a single Google search could jeopardise their professional or personal prospects.

Karnataka High Court

Less than three weeks after the Gujarat High Court’s decision, the Karnataka High Court ordered its Registry to redact the name of the petitioner’s daughter from the cause title as well as the body of an order before handing out copies of it to any ‘service provider’. It accepted the petitioner’s contention that a name-wise search on a search engine might throw up the order, adversely affecting his daughter’s reputation and relationship with her husband. The Court clarified that the name need not be redacted from the order published on the Court’s official website.

Towards the end, it remarked that such an action was ‘in line with the trend in Western countries’ where the right to be forgotten exists as a rule in ‘sensitive cases involving women in general and highly sensitive cases involving rape or affecting the modesty and reputation of the person concerned’.

This statement is problematic. The right to be forgotten emanates from the right to privacy and data protection, which are both regarded as fundamental rights in Europe. Basing the right on ideas of honour and modesty [of women] creates some cause for concern. Further, an important distinction between this case and the one before the Gujarat High Court is that neither Google nor any website publishing court judgments were made parties to it. The claim was based on redaction of information from the source, rather than de-listing it from search engine results or deleting it from a website. This is interesting, because it allows us to think of the right to be forgotten as a comprehensive concept, instead of a singular right to de-list information from search engine results. It provides courts with a choice, allowing them to opt for the least restrictive means to secure an individual’s right to online privacy.

However, the lack of a clear legal basis to allow or deny such claims raises cause for concern. As is already apparent, different high courts are likely to take divergent views on the right to be forgotten in the absence of an overarching data protection framework that grants such rights and prescribes limits to them. In several cases, the right to be forgotten will trigger a corresponding right to freedom of expression and the right to know. The criteria to balance these important but competing claims should be in place for courts to be able to decide such requests in a just manner.

The Supreme Court Hears Sabu Mathew George v. Union of India – Another Blow for Intermediary Liability

The Supreme Court heard arguments in Sabu Mathew George v. Union of India today. This writ petition was filed in 2008, with the intention of banning ‘advertisement’ offering sex selective abortions and related services, from search engine results. According to the petitioner, these advertisements violate Section 22 of the Pre-Conception and Pre-Natal Diagnostic Techniques (Regulation and Prevention of Misuse Act), 1994 (‘PCPNDT Act’) and consequently, must be taken down.

A comprehensive round up of the issues involved and the Court’s various interim orders can be found here. Today’s hearing focused mainly on three issues – the setting up of the Nodal Agency that is entrusted with providing details of websites to be blocked by search engines, the ambit and scope of the word ‘advertisement’ under the PCPNDT Act and thirdly, the obligation of search engines to find offending content and delete it on their own, without a government directive or judicial order to that effect.

Appearing for the Central Government, the Solicitor General informed the Court that as per its directions, a Nodal Agency has now been constituted. An affidavit filed by the Centre provided details regarding the agency, including contact details, which would allow individuals to bring offending content to its notice. The Court was informed that Agency would be functional within a week.

On the second issue, the petitioner’s counsel argued that removal of content must not be limited only to paid or commercial advertisements, but also other results that induce or otherwise lead couples to opt for sex selective abortions. This was opposed by Google and Yahoo! who contended that organic search results must not be tampered with, as the law only bans ‘advertisements’. Google’s counsel averred that the legislation could never have intended to remove generic search results, which directly facilitate information and research. On the other hand, the Solicitor General argued that that the word ‘advertisement’ should be interpreted keeping the object of the legislation in mind – that is, to prevent sex-selective abortions. On behalf of Microsoft, it was argued that even if the broadest definition of ‘advertisement’ was adopted, what has to be seen is the animus – whether its objective is to solicit sex selective abortions, before content could be removed.

On the third issue, the counsel for the petitioner argued that search engines should automatically remove offending content – advertisements or otherwise, even in the absence of a court order or directions from the Nodal Agency. It was his contention that is was not feasible to keep providing search engines with updated keywords and/or results and the latter should employ technical means to automatically block content. This was also echoed by the Court. On behalf of all search engines, it was pointed out that removal of content without an order from a court or the government was directly against the Supreme Court’s judgment in Shreya Singhal v. Union of India. In this case, the Court had read down Section 79 of the Information Technology Act 2000 (‘IT Act’) to hold that intermediaries are only required to take down content pursuant to court orders or government directives. The Court seemed to suggest  that Shreya Singhal was decided in the context of a criminal offence (Section 66A of the IT Act) and is distinguishable on that ground.

Additionally, it was also pointed out that even if the respondents were to remove content on their own, the lack of clarity over what constitutes as an ‘advertisement’ prevents them from deciding what content to remove. Overbroad removal of content might open them up to more litigation from authors and researchers with informative works on the subject. The Court did not offer any interpretation of its own, except to say that the ‘letter and spirit’ of the law must be followed. The lack of clarity on what is deemed illegal could, as pointed out by several counsels, lead to censorship of legitimate information.

Despite these concerns, in its order today, the Court has directed every search engine to form an in-house expert committee that will, based “on its own understanding” delete content that is violative of Section 22 of the PCPNDT Act. In case of any conflict, these committees should approach the Nodal Agency for clarification and the latter’s response is meant to guide the search engines’ final decision. The case has been adjourned to April, when the Court will see if the mechanism in place has been effective in resolving the petitioner’s grievances.

Delhi HC hears the the Right to be Forgotten Case

The pending right to be forgotten petition came up for hearing before the Delhi High Court today. The case seeks the deletion of a court order, which has been reproduced on the website Indiankanoon.com, on the ground that it violates the petitioners’ right to privacy and reputation. This post looks at some of the contentions raised before the Court today and its response to them. However, these are mere observations and the Court is yet to take a final decision regarding the petitioner’s prayer(s).

During the course of today’s hearing, the presiding judge observed that all orders of the court constitute public records and cannot be deleted. In any case, it was pointed out that judicial decisions are normally reported and accessible on the National Judicial Data Grid and their removal from a particular website would not serve the desired purpose. Moreover, the court thought that even if the petitioner’s relief was granted, removal of content from the Internet was a technical impossibility.

The Court however did acknowledge that certain information could be redacted from judicial orders in some cases. This is routinely done in cases related to rape or other sexual offences owing to the presence of a clear legal basis for such redaction. In the present case however, the Court appeared unconvinced that a similar legal basis existed for redacting information. The petitioner’s counsel contended that personal information might become obsolete or irrelevant in certain cases, reflecting only half-truths and causing prejudice to an individual’s reputation and privacy. However, the Court observed that orders of a court could not become obsolete, and the balance if any would always tilt towards the public interest in transparency.

On several occasions, the petitioner’s counsel made a reference to the European Court of Justice’s decision in Google Spain, which is commonly credited with creating the right to be forgotten in Europe. However, the Google Spain ruling created a distinction between deleting information from its source and merely delisting it from search engine results. Further, the delisting is limited to results displayed for search performed for a particular name, ensuring that the information continues to be indexed and displayed if Internet users perform a generic search. However, no distinction was made between delisting and erasure during the course of arguments in the present case.

As an alternate prayer, it was argued for the petitioner that his name be anonymised from the court order in question. Here again, the Court felt that there was no legal basis for anonymisation in the present case. In the Court’s opinion, the information in the order was not prejudicial to the petitioner, per se. The fact that information about a family dispute was accessible to the public at large was not seen as particularly damaging.

The Indian legal framework lacks a coherent policy for anonymisation of names in judicial decisions. Under the Indian Penal Code, publishing names of victims of certain offences is prohibited. Realising that the provision did not bar courts from publishing the names of the victim, the Supreme Court held that names should be anonymised from judgments too, keeping the object of the law in mind. However, research indicates that names continue to be published by courts in a substantial number of cases. A few other laws also provide a legal basis for anonymisation, but these are limited to cases such as minor victims of sexual offences or juvenile offenders. On a few occasions, courts have used their inherent powers to order anonymisation of party names in family cases – making the decision dependent on the discretion of a judge, rather than a result of a larger policy objective. Increasing digitization of court records and easy availability of judgments on the Internet has new implications for online privacy. Transparency of the judicial process is crucial, but in the absence of any larger public interest, anonymisation may be warranted in a wider range of cases than is currently permitted.

As a concept, some form of the right to be forgotten may be essential in today’s age. However, it’s successful implementation is entirely dependent on clear legal principles that strike a balance between competing rights. In the absence of a comprehensive data protection legislation, this is difficult. However, besides the question of a right to be forgotten, this petition presents an interesting opportunity for the Court to analyse and perhaps frame guidelines where anonymisation may be adequate to protect privacy, without delisting or deleting any content.

Supreme Court’s National Anthem Order: Forced Patriotism vs. Freedom of Expression

This post discusses the Supreme Court’s order mandating playing of the national anthem in all movie theatres and the incongruities that emerge from it vis-à-vis freedom of expression. The post seeks to highlight the fundamental problem of making patriotism a forced expression.

In a widely criticized move, a Supreme Court bench ruled that it is mandatory for movie theaters to play the national anthem before the screening of every movie. The Court also cast upon all cinema goers the obligation to stand up during the national anthem in a cinema hall.

The purpose for the measure as cited by the Court was to ‘instill the feeling of committed patriotism and nationalism within one’. It is, however, difficult to understand how playing the national anthem, particularly at cinemas, which are essentially a recreational avenue, will guarantee patriotic feelings.

Patriotism and Freedom of Expression:

Patriotism is a very personal sentiment and an individual’s right to express it in her own way is ingrained in the constitutional right to freedom of expression. To fortify this argument a parallel can be drawn to the reasoning adopted by the Supreme Court in its 1986 ruling in Bijoe Emmanuel vs. State of Kerala. Here, the Apex Court had extended protection to children belonging to the Jehovah’s Witness sect, who had refused to sing the national anthem during a school assembly. The Court, while upholding the children’s right to freedom of speech and expression and right to religion categorically held, “..There is no provision of law which obliges anyone to sing the National Anthem…”

Similarly, the US Supreme Court in the landmark case of West Virginia State Board of Education vs. Barnette, held illegal a resolution that allowed schools to expel its students who refused to salute the flag and undertake the Pledge of Allegiance. The US Supreme Court held that forcing students to salute and recite the Pledge constituted compelled speech and violated the right to free speech and expression guaranteed under the First Amendment. The majority decision given by Justice Robert Jackson held,

“If there is any fixed star in our Constitutional constellation, it is that no official, high or petty, can prescribe what shall be orthodox in politics, nationalism, religion, or other matters of opinion or force citizens to confess by word or act their faith therein. …We think the action of the local authorities in compelling the flag salute and pledge transcends constitutional limitations on their power and invades the sphere of intellect and spirit which it is the purpose of the First Amendment to our Constitution to reserve from all official control.”

The tenor of the order of the Indian Supreme Court implies forced patriotism, while such mandated displays of patriotism go against the very grain of freedom of expression. The Court in Excel Wear Etc. vs. Union of India held that the fundamental right under Article 19 has reciprocal rights i.e. the “right to freedom of speech includes the right not to speak and the right not to form an association is inherent in the right to form associations”. Correspondingly, the right to expression under Article 19 should also encompass within it a right not to express. The expression of patriotism should be left to an individual’s personal choice and ought not to be dictated through a decree or any other means like a government order or law. Furthermore, in this context, it is extremely pertinent to highlight Justice Jackson’s Barnette opinion on making ‘patriotic ceremonies’ a ‘compulsory routine’. He emphasizes that patriotic ceremonies should be voluntary and spontaneous instead of being a compulsory routine. To do so would be underestimating the institutions of free minds.

Constitutional Patriotism – a reasonable restriction under Article 19(2)?

In the present order, the Court seems to have sacrificed ‘individual rights’ at the altar of ‘constitutional patriotism’ when it held, “It does not allow any different notion or the perception of individual rights that have individually thought of have no space. The idea is constitutionally impermissible.” While curtailing individual rights, the Court has used terms like ‘constitutional patriotism’, ‘nationalism’ and ‘patriotism’ liberally throughout the order without enunciating the variance in their import.

It has been argued that free speech and expression can be curtailed under Article 19(2) only by an existing law or a law made by the State and no other mechanism. In the absence of any law or constitutional provision to justify its actions, the Court has resorted to ‘constitutional patriotism’ as a justification to encroach upon the freedom of speech and expression of people.

Constitutional Patriotism’ is a concept borrowed from German jurisprudence. It denotes allegiance to constitutional principles as a means of fostering social cohesion and dwells on developing a common identity for all citizens over their individual religion, culture, tradition etc. According to this concept, constitutional principles should serve as the binding factor and nothing else. In this context, the Court’s rationale behind making it mandatory to play the national anthem as a means to ‘instil patriotism and nationalism’ is off the mark as the national anthem, if anything, is symbolic of the nation and not of the constitution.

In Bijoe Emmanuel, the Court clearly laid down that any regulation or curtailment of free speech and expression should have statutory backing and fall under the reasonable restrictions prescribed under Article 19(2). There can be no other basis for incursion into the ambit of fundamental rights. The Court’s recourse to ‘constitutional patriotism’, an extra constitutional principle, to restrict fundamental rights without any constitutional or statutory basis, sets a very dangerous precedent.

Deeming Fundamental Duties Enforceable

The Court has taken refuge of Article 51A of the Indian Constitution to direct individuals to compulsorily stand up during the national anthem as a ‘sacred obligation’. Article 51A(a) of the Constitution only casts a duty on the citizens to ‘abide by the Constitution and respect its ideals and institutions, the national flag and the national anthem’ and does not prescribe specific standards such as being required to sing and/or stand to show respect. The Court has failed to note that though there is an inherent compulsion to comply with the fundamental duties, there is no legal sanction provided for the violation or non-performance of such duties.

Moreover, the Prevention of Insults to National Honour Act, 1971 (‘Act’) which has been referred to in the order does not mandate that a person must necessarily sing and/or stand during the national anthem. Section 3 of the Act merely criminalizes any act done intentionally to prevent the singing of, or causing disturbance during, the national anthem. By issuing the present order, the Court has effectively deemed this fundamental duty enforceable, non-compliance of which may attract contempt of Court proceedings. Furthermore, in the absence of any law prescribing punishment for not standing and/or singing the national anthem, the present order is a clear case of encroachment into the legislative domain.

As a fallout of the Supreme Court order, the Kerala police had arrested eleven people for showing disrespect to the national anthem by not standing up at an international film festival held in Thiruvananthapuram. Though the ‘accused’ were released on personal bail, they have been charged under Section 188 of the Indian Penal Code, which prescribes punishments for disobeying an order passed by a public servant.

Conclusion:

This order could spell disastrous consequences by giving teeth to self-appointed vigilantes looking to uphold the nation’s honour. There have already been several instances of such jingoism in the recent past which cause serious apprehensions regarding the enforcement and outcome of the Court order. Most recently, a paraplegic man was assaulted in a theatre in Goa for not standing up during the national anthem and a group of college students were manhandled and threatened for not standing up during the national anthem at a theatre in Chennai.

Curiously, on 2nd December, 2016 a similar plea to make the playing of the national anthem mandatory in all Courts was rejected by the Supreme Court calling it an ‘overstretch’. Considering the interim order has been severely criticized, it will be interesting to trace the course that the matter takes on the next date of hearing which is 14th February, 2017.

Delhi High Court Refuses to make Group Administrators Liable for Content posted by Other Members

In April 2016, two directives issued by two separate state governments in India made social media group administrators (‘administrators’) liable for content circulated by other members of the group. This came in the wake of a series of arrests in India for content posted on WhatsApp. This included arrests of administrators for content posted by other members. In our previous post, we argued that making administrators liable is not legal and severely undermines their right to freedom of speech and expression.

This question surrounding the liability of administrators for content posted by others recently came up before for consideration before High Court of Delhi. In a recent order, the Court recognised the problem of placing this burden on administrators.

In this case, damages for defamation were also sought from the administrator of a Telegram and a Google Group on which the allegedly defamatory statements were published. Recognising the inability of the administrator to influence content on the group, the Court found holding an administrator liable equivalent to holding the ‘manufacturer of the newsprint’ liable for the defamatory statements in the newspaper.

The Court reasoned that at the time of making the group, the administrators could not expect members to make defamatory statements. Further, the Court took into account the fact that the statements posted did not require the administrator’s approval. Consequently, the Court found no reason to hold the administrator responsible.

However, the contention of the petitioner that the administrator has the power to ‘add or remove people from the group/platform as well as to filter’ was not evaluated on merits, as it was not the pleaded case of the petitioner. The courts response to such arguments remains to be seen.

In the midst of increasing restrictions on social media groups and administrators, this order is a welcome step. It is imperative that Governments, law enforcement agencies and courts take note to ensure that freedom of expression of administrators and users of such platforms/groups is not undermined.