Hana Vahab, TwoCircles.net
Two years after being granted bail by the Supreme Court, Kerala-based journalist Siddique Kappan’s struggle is far from over. His release from prison was not the end of his torment, but the beginning of a new battle — one against a system that, he alleged, has forced him into “self-censorship, surveillance and financial ruin”. A journalist whose crime was simply reporting on the marginalised, Kappan now finds himself exiled from the very profession he once thrived in. He is allegedly shunned by mainstream media.
As he continues to fight legal battles, his story reflects his plight. “My incarceration has never made me decide not to do the kind of stories I used to. But as for my identity, I am forced to self-censor the stories I write,” he admits, his voice weary but resolute. The fight for freedom of expression, he knows, is a long way from over.
On October 5, 2020, Kappan was arrested alongside three others by the Uttar Pradesh Police in Mathura while en route to report the gang rape and murder of a Dalit girl in Hathras. Despite his press credentials, he was detained and later arrested under stringent anti-terror law — the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act or UAPA. During his detention for four days before being formally arrested, his rights to inform his family was allegedly violated. He spent the next 846 days behind bars. Though he secured bail in September 2022 after more than two years, the emotional and financial cost of his legal battle continues to weigh heavily on him.
Changing World of Journalism
His voice calm but laden with the weight of experience, he reflects on his career as a journalist. He recalls his early days with clarity and purpose. “As a journalist, I did not look at whether the government at the centre is led by the BJP (Bharatiya Janata Party) or the Congress or the Left in Kerala. I strictly follow that there are no other predilections in the news. News is not PR work for the government.”
Kappan’s work, which began in earnest in 2009, spanned stories on social issues across India — from the North-East to Kashmir, from Dalit issues in Uttar Pradesh to the farmer protests. He claims his focus was always on the marginalised — those whose voices went unheard. This commitment to telling uncomfortable truths eventually became the very thing that led to his “persecution”. He claims his work was never confined to a single narrative or agenda, yet he was “framed” in a specific way — “a journalist who catered exclusively to Muslim causes”.
“I once happened to see the charge sheet of my case. It was unintentional. In it, I accidentally came across one of the statements given to the police by one of my editors in Kerala. The statement reads: ‘Is he (Kappan) a member of the Popular Front?’ ‘I don’t know about that. But he did only Pro-Muslim stories’,” Kappan recalls, the shock still evident in his voice. “I read the word ‘pro-Muslim’ written in Hindi quite shockingly. I know very well that I was not someone who only did ‘pro-Muslim’ stories; my readers know it, and even the editor who told this might also know that this is not true.”
This labeling of Kappan as a “pro-Muslim” journalist marked the beginning of a new, dangerous era for him. It was an identity thrust upon him, not of his choosing. A journalist who once moved freely, reporting across different communities and their struggles, found himself confined within the boundaries of an identity he “never sought”.
‘Surveillance’ and Isolation
Kappan’s arrest under UAPA was not just a personal tragedy — it was also a reflection of how his Muslim identity had come under the scrutiny of the state. His work was now seen as suspect by those in power. He was caught in a web of alleged “systemic surveillance and misinformation”. His arrest was a stark manifestation of how journalists from minority communities are often viewed with suspicion, their every story is allegedly scrutinised through the lens of their religious background.
“When I was in jail, I had time to reflect on something disturbing,” Kappan says. “I have reported stories from the North-East, Kashmir, the farmer’s protests, Dalit issues in UP, undertrial prisoners under the UAPA, CAA-NRC protests and the Delhi riots — yet, each time I was detained, the police questioned me relentlessly. ‘Whom did you do the story for?’ they asked. They wanted to know if I was taking instructions from someone.”
He says his identity as a Muslim reporter became the basis for his alleged “persecution”. But he refuses to accept this label. “There was never a particular agenda behind the stories I did. I reported on what mattered to the people,” he states firmly.
His reporting on sensitive cases, such as the sexual abuse of an eight-year-old girl in Kerala in 2020 or the Kathua rape-murder case in 2018, brought him under scrutiny from various political parties. In Kerala, multiple political factions, including the Congress, the Muslim League, the CPI(M) and the BJP, were implicated in the case. “I had to confront criticisms from major political parties in Kerala as they tried to push their own agenda. But during those times, I never censored what kind of stories I should or should not do,” he recalls.
The dissonance was clear: when the news did not fit the political narrative, it was attacked, and journalists like Kappan were branded as “biased” or “anti-national”.
A Never-Ending Legal Battle
Kappan’s legal journey after his arrest was as harrowing as his time in jail. The case against him was “flimsy” at best, yet the state relentlessly pursued him. He recalls how, on the day of his arrest, he was denied even basic rights. “We were detained on the pretext of questioning, and the police made us wait for hours without any explanation. We were neither told the reason nor permitted to make calls. The police began to ask senseless questions —about whether we knew Urdu, whether we had studied in Jamia (Jamia Millia Islamia) or JNU (Jawaharlal Nehru University) – both central varities in Delhi.”
The conditions in jail, he says, were dehumanising. He describes being moved in chains, placed in overcrowded cells and denied basic comforts. For 40 days, he was held in appalling conditions and deprived of any information about his charges. It was only after 41 days of incarceration that he was allegedly allowed to contact his family.
The legal battle that followed was grueling, with hearings far from his home in Kerala. “I have to travel twice a month from my hometown in Kerala to a court in Allahabad for the two cases still pending against me,” he says. “The financial burden is immense, and my family struggles to make ends meet. My lawyers have helped me pro bono, but without their support, I would not have been able to continue.”
Despite his release on bail, Kappan’s life remains constrained. The Supreme Court granted him bail under the condition that he report to the local police station every Monday. For him, this meant traveling to Allahabad every month – a burden that drained his finances and separated him from his family.
A Family Struggling to Adjust
Kappan’s three children, especially his youngest daughter in 6th grade, have felt the impact of his arrest. “They have recovered from my arrest, but their education and mental health have greatly suffered during my time in jail,” he says. “They are slowly adjusting to the new changes. I had to take care of their needs while juggling court appearances. It has been financially draining for us.”
His arrest and the ongoing legal case have left him with limited options to support his family. Mainstream Malayalam media, where Kappan once worked, has not offered him any opportunities. He understands the harsh reality. “No mainstream Malayalam news organisation has offered me any opportunity yet. I survive on freelancing now,” he says.
Even after his release, Kappan remains under “surveillance”. Local police officers visit his home occasionally and allegedly ask him what he is currently doing and even taking photos of him sitting at home. “I am not sure about the reasons. However, it is not to the extent that it interferes with my daily life,” he says, adding that the top court’s decision to repeal the weekly signing condition in November 2024 brought some relief.
The Struggle Continues
Kappan’s case has revealed the harsh realities of being a journalist from a minority community. Despite everything, Kappan remains resolute. “I have not decided that I will not do particular kinds of stories. My fear has only disappeared after I was illegally incarcerated,” he says. “Being in jail does not pull me back from writing the stories I used to report, but I cannot deny that I have begun to heavily self-censor.”
As of now, Kappan’s bank accounts remain frozen, his credit card transactions interrupted and his fight for justice continues. “I am grateful for the help from my lawyers, but I am still trying to overcome the financial crunch,” he says quietly, reflecting on the cost of his profession — one that has cost him his freedom, his peace of mind and, for a time, his place in society.
In September 2022, he was granted bail as the Supreme Court observed, “Every person has the right to freedom of expression.” Yet, the scars of his imprisonment remain, a stark reminder of how a journalist’s identity can allegedly be weaponised in a system that seeks to marginalise and silence voices that dare to speak the truth.