Imran Pratapgadhi Vs State of Gujarat Crl.a. No. 1545/2025 -

In a time when the boundaries of free speech are constantly tested by politics, technology, and overzealous state action, the Supreme Court’s ruling in Imran Pratapgarhi v. State of Gujarat (Criminal Appeal No. 1545/2025) stands out as a timely and courageous affirmation of the constitutional promise of freedom of expression. The case revolved around a 46-second Instagram video featuring a poem accompanied by visuals of a mass wedding ceremony. What may have been a fleeting moment of artistic expression was quickly construed by the Gujarat Police as a seditious, inflammatory act—worthy of invoking serious criminal charges under the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (BNS).

The FIR against Pratapgarhi alleged promotion of enmity, threats to national unity, and communal disharmony—all on the basis of a poem that, upon judicial scrutiny, contained neither a direct nor veiled reference to religion, violence, or incitement.

The poem was, in fact, a work of metaphor and resistance, urging truth, peace, and non-violent defiance of injustice. The Supreme Court saw what the police refused to: a poem is not a provocation; it is an expression of perspective.

Justice B.V. Nagarathna, writing for the Court, observed that the FIR was a mechanical and disproportionate response, lacking application of mind. The poem was read line by line, not merely as text, but as context—revealing no intent to create hatred or alarm. The bench took the opportunity to remind law enforcement authorities that criminal law is not a tool for censorship. Instead, it is a mechanism for accountability—and its misuse can have a chilling effect on democratic discourse.

More than just quashing the FIR, the Court’s judgment clarified an important procedural safeguard under the newly introduced Section 173(3) of the BNS. It held that for offenses punishable with imprisonment of less than seven years, police must conduct a preliminary inquiry before registering an FIR. This is a critical check on arbitrary action—particularly in speech-related offenses, where hurt sentiments and political motives often override objective legal standards.

The Court wisely did not create an unchecked immunity for all speech. It upheld that speech which incites violence or hatred can—and should—be penalized under Article 19(2). But it warned against interpreting discomfort or dissent as criminal. In a democracy, it emphasized, freedom of speech includes the freedom to offend, so long as that offense is not calibrated to provoke public disorder.

What makes this decision especially significant is that it arrives at a moment when political expression—particularly by artists, writers, and public intellectuals—is under increased scrutiny. The judgment strikes a balance between protecting public order and safeguarding artistic and political freedoms. It does not glorify chaos; it simply insists that liberty cannot be sacrificed at the altar of convenience or intolerance.

It also sends a message to law enforcement: that their role is to act with reasoned restraint, not reactive excess. It urges state machinery to engage with content intelligently and constitutionally—particularly in a multilingual, plural society like India, where symbols, metaphors, and dissent form the lifeblood of public discourse.

For India’s constitutional democracy, Imran Pratapgarhi reaffirms an essential truth: freedom of expression is not the privilege of the popular—it is the right of all, especially those who dare to speak truth to power. In defending one poet’s right to speak, the Supreme Court has defended every citizen’s right to be heard, challenged, and disagreed with—without fear of prosecution.

This judgment is not just a shield for the present—it is a sword against future misuse. It reminds us that democracy does not merely survive on elections and institutions; it thrives in the fearless spaces between dissent and dialogue.