Earlier this week, the Supreme Court intervened in the controversy surrounding the "unofficial ban" imposed by the Karnataka government on the release of Kamal Haasan-starrer Thug Life following public outrage over his remarks over Kannada language. A bench comprising Justices Ujjal Bhuyan and Manmohan strongly criticised the ban, emphasising that mob rule cannot dictate censorship in a democracy.
The court observed that once the Censor Board has cleared a film, state governments cannot arbitrarily prohibit its screening under the pretext of maintaining law and order. Haasan co-wrote the film with its director Mani Ratnam.
The controversy brings us back to the now increasingly familiar question— can and should the clash between free speech and public outrage in a democracy ever be settled by mob rule? The court said it cannot. But the increasing trend of vigilante censorship, where films are unofficially banned, comedians harassed, and artists forced into self-censorship, sets a dangerous precedent.
Mob Rule Can't be New Normal
When the matter was heard on the very first day, Justice Bhuyan had orally observed that "we cannot allow mobs and vigilante groups to take over the streets". He remarked that hurt sentiments cannot justify vandalism or suppression of artistic freedom, stating, "There is no end to hurt sentiments... if a stand-up comedian says something, sentiments are hurt and there is vandalism... where are we heading?"
The bench, which was hearing a PIL seeking the top court’s intervention in ensuring the film's smooth release, also questioned the Karnataka government’s inaction against those issuing threats, noting that the state had not filed any complaints against such individuals.
Now, the matter has been closed after the state of Karnataka filed an affidavit to ensure the release of the film in the state. It reiterated that disagreement with content should be countered through debate, not violence or bans.
The observations align with previous rulings, such as Padmavat and The Kerala Story, where the Supreme Court upheld cinematic freedom against state-imposed restrictions. And yet, there have been a slew of instances this year, from a mob attack on the Habitat Studio where comedian Kunal Kamra performed, to public outrage against Haasan’s comment and release of his film in Karnataka, that belie the court's wisdom.
In India, censorship generally hints at restraining something, whether a speech, words, artistic work or even ‘stand-up’ comedy, from coming to public domain or public access. The authorities concerned under the Indian law have the power to restrain the ‘item’ or ‘subject’ from being published, released on the ground of being objectionable or against general interest.
In India, film censorship and certification are regulated by the Cinematograph Act 1952 which authorise the Censor Board to screen and certify films for public display.
The Cinematograph (Amendment) Act 2023 also enhanced the board's powers to grant permanent validity of certificates—and empowered the government to revoke a certified film if it threatens national security or public order.
Cinematic Expression Vs Public Outcry
Cinema does not exist in a vacuum. Films have the power to challenge societal norms and raise uncomfortable questions, but they usually end up at the receiving end of public outbursts.
We often see that artistic freedom has to struggle with community feelings and religious sentiments as well as political compulsions. From street protests to delayed releases and forced censorship, some films have paid the price for treading into controversial terrain.
In India, films that touch upon religion, caste, or historical trauma tend to bring out strong public responses, especially by fringe socio-religious pressure groups.
Phule (2025), a biopic on social reformers Jyotirao and Savitribai Phule, was protested by Brahmin groups on the grounds that it was offensive. Its release was put on hold, and the Censor Board insisted on multiple cuts before releasing it into theatres.
Before that, Padmavat (2018) faced criticism for hurting sentiments of the Rajput community in Rajasthan. The Kashmir Files (2022) was criticised for its communal bias—and that the film had promoted Islamophobia in the country. Most recently, Aamir Khan's coming-of-age film Sitaare Zameen Par faced censorship prior to release on 20 June. The Censor Board asked for a number of changes, including revising the disclaimer, substituting expressions like "Business Woman" with "Business Person," and replacing the 'kamal' with a lotus.
A new disclaimer quoting Prime Minister Narendra Modi was inserted as well. These events indicate how both state censorship and popular opinion still go into creating the boundaries of cinematic expression.
In the case of Thug Life, however, it wasn't so much an issue about the film being censored but the actor-politician Haasan and his statement, which stirred existing linguistic and politically riven chasms.
Judicial Intervention Over Censorship
The judiciary has repeatedly emphasised that once a film or performance complies with legal certification, no extrajudicial bans or threats should override constitutional freedoms. Artistic expression, even when provocative, is the backbone of a vibrant society. Disagreement should not translate into suppression; instead, dialogue and legal recourse must prevail over violence and intimidation.
In several landmark cases, courts have defended the artistic and cinematic freedom multiple times from arbitrary censorships or threats from few extremist groups.
One such case is Udta Punjab vs CBFC (2016) where the Bombay High Court empathetically condemned the Censor Board's proposal to make 89 cuts to the film.
The court noted that the board had no right to censor on the basis of subjective morality and held that “creative freedom should not be unnecessarily curbed. Nobody can dictate to a filmmaker about the content of his film.”
Similarly, in Viacom 18 Media Pvt Ltd vs Union of India (Padmavat case, 2018), the Supreme Court reversed bans placed by various states, such as Rajasthan, Gujarat, and Madhya Pradesh, in the name of law and order. The court held that “once a film is certified for public viewing... states cannot use law and order as an excuse to ban it. That would amount to shadow censorship.“
The Kerala Story ran into trouble with the state of West Bengal which said it would ban the movie, but when the matter reached the court corridors, the then Chief Justice, DY Chandrachud, asked that if the film can run in other parts of the country, why should the state of West Bengal ban the film?
“If the public does not think that the film is worth seeing, they will not see it. It is running in other parts of the country which have a similar demographic profile as West Bengal. Why should you not allow a film to run?"
Growing Politicisation
It would be pertinent to recall what the Supreme Court had held in a recent judgment, Imran Pratapgarhi vs State of Gujarat, that 75 years into our Republic, we cannot be seen to be so shaky on our fundamentals that mere recital of a poem or for that matter, any form of art or entertainment, such as, stand-up comedy, can be alleged to lead to animosity or hatred amongst different communities.
“Subscribing to such a view would stifle all legitimate expressions of view in the public domain which are so fundamental to a free society,” the court had concluded.
If every joke, film, or poem is subjected to the tyranny of offended sentiments, a country risks losing its cultural diversity and democratic ethos.
Hence, the rule of law should be upheld and every attempt should be made to defend artistic liberty—irrespective of the fact whether one agrees or not, and reject the normalisation of mob justice—because a society that fears laughter, critique, or uncomfortable truths is one that stifles its own progress.
Hate speech, which actively promotes discrimination or harm, must not be shielded under the guise of free expression. However, the selective outrage some, especially artists and academics, witness today is deeply hypocritical in a nation where politicians routinely deliver inflammatory, divisive speeches during elections with impunity.
As Justice Bhuyan has rightly observed, "The rule of law must prevail... If somebody has made a statement, counter it with a statement. Somebody has made some writing, counter it with some writing."
The Supreme Court’s stance is clear: vigilante censorship cannot replace legal scrutiny. When the state fails to act against those issuing threats while suppressing creative voices, it emboldens a culture of intimidation. Democracy demands debate, not destruction—reason, not rage—must guide our response to dissent.
(Areeb Uddin Ahmed is an advocate practising at the Allahabad High Court. He writes on various legal developments. This is an opinion piece and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)