By Satya Pal Jain
Ex-MP &Additional Solicitor General of India
On January 27, 1976, I offered Satyagraha at Punjab University. That night, I was taken to the Sector 29 Police Lines. Electric shocks were administered by tying copper wires to my fingers. For a fleeting moment, I believed that was the end of my life. But I survived—physically wounded, but unshaken in spirit.
NEW DELHI /CHANDIGARH, UPDATED: June 24,1:30PM
It has been 50 years since the Emergency was imposed on the night of June 25, 1975, yet the scars of those 21 months of authoritarian rule remain etched in the collective memory of the nation.
The trigger was political. On June 12, Justice Jagmohan Lal Sinha of the Allahabad High Court invalidated the 1971 Lok Sabha election of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, sparking a wave of protests led by Loknayak Jayaprakash Narayan. As calls for her resignation grew louder, instead of stepping down, Indira Gandhi responded by suspending democracy itself. A National Emergency was declared, civil liberties were curtailed, and dissent was crushed with an iron hand.
By the morning of June 26, a massive crackdown was underway. Opposition stalwarts—Atal Bihari Vajpayee, L.K. Advani, Morarji Desai, Charan Singh, Devi Lal, and many others—were arrested under the Maintenance of Internal Security Act (MISA). Shockingly, even senior leaders from within the Congress, like Chandrashekhar and Krishan Kant, were not spared, exposing the regime’s intolerance for any form of disagreement.
Thousands of innocents lost jobs, businesses collapsed, and families starved. The nation was plunged into an atmosphere of fear, censorship, and coercion.
I was 23 years old, a student leader—General Secretary of Punjab University Students’ Council and President of the Punjab and Chandigarh Students Committee in the movement inspired by JP. On July 13, 1975, I arrived for my admission interview at the Law Department of Punjab University. Despite being on the merit list, I was denied admission. The moment I exited the interview room, I was taken into custody. A false case was slapped on me, alleging I had organised a massive student rally and threatened to overthrow the government. It was only in December, thanks to Judicial Magistrate Hans Raj Nagara, that I was discharged and released.
But my ordeal didn’t end there. On January 27, 1976, I offered Satyagraha at Punjab University. That night, I was taken to the Sector 29 Police Lines. Electric shocks were administered by tying copper wires to my fingers. For a fleeting moment, I believed that was the end of my life. But I survived—physically wounded, but unshaken in spirit.
Those were truly the darkest days in Indian democracy. Fundamental rights were suspended. Courts were held inside jails, not the other way around. The police could detain anyone at any time without bail. Fear hung heavy in the air. Even close relatives were afraid to visit political detainees. Censored state radio provided no real news; people relied on the BBC, tuning in in whispers behind closed doors.
About six months into the Emergency, a coordinated resistance began, led by the RSS, Jan Sangh, and other non-Congress parties. Thousands volunteered for arrest. The slogan that echoed across the country—”Singhasan Khaali Karo, Janata Aati Hai”—breathed life back into a strangled democracy.
A particularly shameful chapter was the passage of the Emergency Bill in Parliament. For the first and only time, the entire Opposition bench was vacant. Even more troubling, Mrs. Gandhi had recommended the Emergency without consulting her Cabinet—a decision rubber-stamped by then President Fakhruddin Ali Ahmed. The Cabinet was informed only the next morning, a move seen by many as unconstitutional.
Then, in January 1977, in a moment of hubris and miscalculation, Mrs. Gandhi called for elections. She believed the Opposition had been silenced and the people pacified. But the masses responded with fury. JP’s slogan—“Every vote to Congress is a vote for handcuffs”—resonated. Congress suffered a crushing defeat.
Indira Gandhi went to President B.D. Jatti to submit her resignation. He advised her first to revoke the Emergency—warning that the very laws she had enacted could now be used against her by the new government. The Emergency was lifted before the new administration took charge.
Even today, the memories send a chill down my spine. However, if there is one enduring lesson, it’s this: India’s democracy may be tested, but it cannot be extinguished. The spirit of its people is too strong, their love for freedom too deep.
As we mark five decades since that constitutional betrayal, let us resolve: Governments will come and go, but no one shall ever again dare to trample the Constitution or throttle democracy in this land. (Views expressed in the above opinion piece are personal and solely of the author. They do not reflect The News Dose’s views. contact@satyapaljain.com
