In a move that would make a banana republic blush, the Indian electoral machinery has decided that R. Srinivasan, the venerable editor of a national daily, is simply not fit to cast a ballot. Because nothing says 'celebrate democracy' quite like telling a man who has spent 40 years chronicling the political class that he is not allowed to participate in their little game.
The Election Commission, in its infinite wisdom, has struck Srinivasan's name from the rolls on the grounds of 'insufficient address proof'. This is, of course, a man whose address is printed in every edition of his newspaper. A man whose house is probably surrounded by journalists. But no, the paperwork wasn't up to scratch.
Indian journalists have responded with the kind of fury reserved for someone who has just found a dead rat in their lunch. They have called it an 'attack on the free press', which is the journalistic equivalent of waving a red flag at a bull. The press is supposed to be the fourth estate, not the fourth form. But here we are, with an editor being treated like a truant schoolboy caught without a permission slip.
The government is, predictably, silent. Because when you are too busy dismantling institutions and muzzling dissent, you don't have time to explain why a man who has interviewed every prime minister since Indira Gandhi cannot tick a box every five years.
Let us be clear: this is not a bureaucratic snafu. This is a bureaucratic smokescreen. The message is unmistakable: if you speak truth to power, power will ensure you do not get to speak at all. Not in the polling booth, not anywhere.
So, raise a glass of tepid gin to Srinivasan. And another to the dying embers of Indian democracy. Because when they come for the editors, they are coming for the rest of us. And the Election Commission, with its rubber stamp and folder of excuses, is the tip of the spear.
