NEW DELHI: Hate speech in India is no longer confined to sporadic moments of political tension or social unrest. It has increasingly become a routine feature of public life—delivered openly at rallies, religious gatherings and processions, often in the very presence of the state’s visible instruments. India Hate Lab’s (IHL) 2023 report gives empirical weight to this reality, documenting 1,215 verified anti-Muslim speech events in a single year, averaging nearly four incidents every day.
These are not anonymous online expressions. They are public speeches, addressed to identifiable audiences, frequently delivered under police presence. For constitutional analysis, the significance of this data lies less in its moral indictment and more in what it reveals about the functioning of the State. India possesses a dense legal framework regulating inflammatory and group-targeted hostility. The deeper constitutional concern is what it means when such speech becomes routine and the State’s dominant response is silence.
From a constitutional perspective, hate speech is not merely a social harm; it is a structural event. Speech that targets communities, calls for exclusion or violence, and is repeatedly normalised in public spaces reshapes the conditions of equal citizenship. Harm begins well before physical violence—it manifests through fear, marginalisation and the implicit signalling of who belongs in the polity and who does not.
This understanding is embedded in constitutional jurisprudence. The Supreme Court has consistently recognised that certain forms of speech can undermine public order and dignity, justifying regulation. Post Shreya Singhal v. Union of India, the law permits restrictions where speech bears a proximate link to harm or incitement. The difficulty lies not in doctrine, but in whether the State treats such incitement as constitutionally consequential in practice.
A striking aspect of the IHL data is that many events occur in environments where State awareness cannot be denied. Police personnel are often present for law and order duties. This shifts the question from ignorance to governance. Constitutionally, sustained non-intervention where the State has knowledge, capacity and legal authority is not neutral. Over time, silence acquires meaning—it shapes expectations, emboldens speakers and signals tolerance. Hate speech risks transforming from an offence into an accepted political instrument.
The Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita, 2023 criminalises acts promoting enmity, prejudice or violence between groups, while the Bharatiya Nagarik Suraksha Sanhita, 2023 mandates prompt action where cognizable offences are disclosed. The constitutional problem exposed by the IHL report is not legislative inadequacy but uneven enforcement. If even a fraction of the documented incidents disclose cognizable offences, their sheer volume raises a serious question: when does discretion slide into abdication?
In Lalita Kumari v. Government of Uttar Pradesh, the Supreme Court held that FIR registration is mandatory where a cognizable offence is disclosed. While hate speech requires contextual assessment, routine non-registration across reported public events raises concerns that go beyond individual cases. Constitutional scrutiny looks at patterns, not exceptions.
Police discretion, though unavoidable, must remain bounded, even-handed and reviewable. Persistent selective enforcement engages Article 14, which demands equal protection of the laws. The harm here extends beyond targeted communities—it corrodes the constitutional promise that law operates without preference.
Judicial expectations are clear. In Shaheen Abdulla v. Union of India, the Supreme Court directed police to take suo motu action against hate speech without waiting for private counter reporting. The IHL data tests whether administrative reality aligns with these expectations. If public, verifiable incidents continue to accumulate without visible legal response, the failure is institutional, not doctrinal.
Article 21 further deepens the concern. The right to life includes a positive duty on the State to prevent foreseeable harm. In Tehseen S Poonawalla v. Union of India, the Court emphasised that State responsibility begins before violence erupts. Repeated public hate speech creates precisely such foreseeability. Failure to intervene reduces criminal law to a post-facto ritual, stripping it of its preventive purpose.
The IHL’s 2025 report does not determine guilt. Its constitutional value lies in exposing patterns of response—or the lack of them.