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On Saturday, the Economic Times published an editorial explaining why the media should name the eight-year-old girl who was raped and murdered in Kathua in January. The horrifying case has seen extensive coverage, with media houses naming the victim and displaying her photographs. This was heavily criticised on Friday by the Delhi High Court, and notices were sent to twelve organisations.
According to the order passed by the court, “the nature and manner of reporting of the alleged offence is being effected in absolute violation of specific prohibition of law disrespecting the privacy of victim which is required to be maintained in respect of the identity of a victim.”
The Economic Times, however, argues that demanding her identity be kept secret “is not only pointless, but is an unwanted digression that takes the focus away from the real horror and the need to bring those responsible for it to justice.”
The High Court refers to two provisions of law which prohibit disclosure of the identity of victims of sexual crimes.
These prohibitions are very clear and don’t allow for any exceptions even in cases where the victim has been killed.
In cases like Kathua, to publish the name of a child victim of a sexual offence would require some compelling public interest. If not, there is no justification to openly flout the law, no matter what discontentment we might have with it.
I can perhaps see the merit of the arguments to act against the prohibitions here – that doing so helps put a name, a face to the crime which helps drive home the weight of what has happened, instead of allowing apathy to set in. The Economic Times editorial reiterates this, stating that not telling the world that she was “a flesh and blood child with a name” will make the crime depersonalised and will leave it as just one case among many.
Indeed, the Nirbhaya case shows that sufficient public will and outrage can coalesce even around an unnamed victim, so it’s not as though sentiment – and even legal change – can only be driven through naming and showing the victim. In fact, it is arguable that a more generic term like the one used then, ‘Fearless’, could potentially have an even greater impact.
No matter what they thought, the media took care to follow the law, even after she had died. Eventually Nirbhaya’s name was made known, after her parents agreed to do so, and the appropriate procedures had been followed. There was a bit of confusion since the parents used her name for the first time in a media interview rather than first informing the police or the courts, sure, but it took nothing away from the reporting, or the outrage, or the powerful activism that helped usher in the criminal law amendments of 2013.
I also take strong exception to the editorial’s claim that demanding that we keep her identity secret “serves no purpose – apart from theoretical self-righteousness”. This is a strong and contestable assertion, which completely ignores the concept of privacy – upheld as a fundamental right just last year by the Supreme Court.
There are a number of reasons that lie behind the legal prohibitions against disclosing the identity of victims of sexual offences. Social stigma continues to be an issue, but it’s no longer just about that. Once a person’s name and image are in the news for something like this, it becomes a matter of dignity that has nothing to do with traditional notions of honour.
If we wouldn’t want it done for them, we can’t unilaterally decide to do that here.
Such an approach also ignores the victim. Do we truly believe that the right to privacy should not survive death? How many of us would want to be remembered forevermore after death as the victim who suffered some horrible fate?
The Economic Times editorial does nothing to rebut these points. It notes the Nirbhaya and Suzette Jordan cases to point out when names can be revealed, but at the end of the day, a positive decision was made to waive anonymity in those cases by those who had the power to do so in law – the family and Jordan herself.
The waiver of anonymity in those cases was, therefore, an act of agency, made deliberately. This is not so in the Kathua case. Her family did not say they want her name revealed. She was already stripped of enough of her agency by the rapists and murders – and the irresponsible media reporting in the aftermath has stripped away even the meagre dregs that were left.
Consequently, it would be disingenuous and an insult to her memory to try and claim that this is why this was done, and why the Delhi High Court’s orders should now be defied.
If indeed any media house is so convinced that the victim’s name needs to be made public, there is a simple solution. Her next of kin can still authorize the waiver, provided this authorisation is communicated to the right authorities.
This can be attained in two ways. First, by directly approaching the next of kin, asking for their permission and presenting this to the courts. Alternatively, a representation can be made to the Delhi High Court which is hearing the matter on 18 April, to ask them to consider the public interest grounds and ask for the family’s views.
Otherwise, we are saying that the rule of law means nothing, and that it is ok to flout the law even though there are alternatives to get our point across.
The Kathua lawyers who tried to block the chargesheet in this case were similarly claiming that they had a right to protest, that there was a wrongful exercise of the law, and so ignored the option of filing a quashing petition against the chargesheet. Sure, you may say the media has a morally superior position here, but when alternatives have not been exhausted, the argument is still the same.
Is that really how we want to fight this fight?
(The Times Group, publisher of The Economic Times, competes with Quintillion Media Private Limited, publisher of The Quint, in some markets.)
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Published: 14 Apr 2018,10:33 PM IST