Truth In Surveilled Times | Exclusive Interview with Rahul Easwar

In Discipline and Punish, Michel Foucault argues the modern state exercises power through a pervasive "gaze" that disciplines the soul. For our "Surveillance" issue, The Evident Monthly explores how these mechanisms operate in India.

In this interview, activist Rahul Easwar uses a Foucauldian lens to challenge a surprising frontier: men’s rights. Easwar contends the state’s refusal to constitute a "Men’s Commission" is "disciplinary silence." By ignoring male suicide data, the state curates a social reality that suppresses narratives threatening the Left-liberal consensus.

Here, surveillance functions as exclusion. The state’s "panopticon" highlights specific victimhoods while leaving others in the dark. Easwar argues this selective visibility is a colonial hangover—a binary legal system where the man is perpetually "hunter" and the woman "victim"—that must be decolonized for genuine justice.

What follows is a dialogue on how state machinery disciplines dissent, and why "looking back" at the state is the first step toward a balanced Dharma.ery of the state—from the police to the media—disciplines dissent, and why "looking back" at the state is the first step toward a balanced Dharma.

Q: Michel Foucault, in his theory of Discipline and Punish, argues that the modern prison system is designed not just to confine the body, but to discipline the soul. Given your own experiences, do you view your imprisonment as a genuine legal process, or as a form of political discipline to suppress traditional dissent against a secular state?

A: "Disciplining" is a strong word, but in this context, it risks being misunderstood. What happened was less about political disciplining and more about silencing dissent. In Kerala, we have a Left-liberal government. I identify as a Right-conservative activist. When I was arrested for opposing Left-liberal feminist thought, it was a clear move to suppress that dissent. While the state may claim it is neutral law enforcement, the reality is that these measures are often repressive tools used to curb opposition rather than distinct legal processes.

Q: Our current issue focuses on "Surveillance". Surveillance is often inherently prejudiced ; modern states use it to monitor and suppress those who challenge the status quo. Do you believe these monitoring systems are neutral?

A: Surveillance is not neutral; it is prejudiced. While every country requires a monitoring system and an intelligence framework for security, the tone changes when it becomes suppressive surveillance. In a democracy, different strands of thought must fight fairly. Victory or defeat should come from that ideological contest. However, the state often files false cases to avoid that fair fight. In my case, the police and prosecution were "lying through their teeth"—even in court, where truth should be paramount. Whether a government is Right, Left, or Centrist, lying in a court of law is absolutely unethical.

Q:  You have been a vocal advocate for the Men's Commission. In the context of surveillance and power, it seems the state decides whose suffering is visible and whose is ignored. Is the state ignoring the crisis faced by men?

A:  They are absolutely ignoring it. Let me give you a statistical reality based on NCRB (National Crime Records Bureau) data: inside India, a man commits suicide approximately every four and a half minutes. In contrast, a woman commits suicide every eleven minutes. There is a crisis, but many refuse to acknowledge it. We were the first to present the "Commission for Men" in the Kerala Legislative Assembly under Bill No. 246. However, politicians lack the courage to support it because the prevailing paradigm portrays anyone advocating for men as an opponent of women.

Q:  Modern laws are often framed as protective, but you suggest they can be weaponized. How can we “decolonize” this binary—where the man is always the perpetrator and the woman the victim—without undermining genuine women’s rights?

A:  The answer lies in building a shield without turning it into a sword. Women’s rights must remain non-negotiable, especially in a society with deep structural patriarchy. However, justice cannot survive if protection becomes presumption.

The Supreme Court itself has repeatedly acknowledged this dilemma. In cases related to the misuse of Section 498A, the Court observed that provisions introduced as safeguards were, in some instances, being converted into instruments of coercion. The phrase “legal terrorism”—used by the judiciary—was not meant to weaken women’s rights, but to warn against the erosion of due process.

Decolonization here does not mean rolling back protections; it means unlearning inherited binaries. Colonial-era legal frameworks often relied on rigid moral archetypes—fixed victims and fixed villains. A modern, constitutional democracy must move beyond that. Justice should not begin with prejudice.

We must therefore shift our legal language and legal imagination. Instead of approaching every case through the lens of a “hunter and hunted,” the law should treat it as what it is: a dispute between an accuser and an accused, both entitled to dignity, fairness, and a presumption of innocence until proven otherwise.

True gender justice is not achieved by reversing injustice onto another group. It is achieved by neutral procedures, rigorous investigation, and empathetic adjudication. Protecting women and preserving civil liberties are not opposing goals—they are complementary. A mature legal system must have the courage to hold both together.

Q: From a postcolonial perspective, the modern state often appears hostile to traditional religious structures. During the Sabarimala issue in 2018, we observed what could be called "ritual biopolitics," yet the legal system treated it as criminal riot plotting. How do you view this conflict?

A:  The Sabarimala issue highlights a deeper political game regarding the Uniform Civil Code (UCC). Many believe the UCC is about equality, but we must look at the history. Guruji Golwalkar is the most important person in the history of the RSS—even more so than Prime Minister Modi. In an interview, Golwalkar argued that India does not need a Uniform Civil Code. He suggested that the UCC is often used as a weapon to weaken Muslim and Christian personal laws through a "crooked way". There is a narrative that the Muslim population is increasing due to personal laws, and the UCC is brought in to counter that. The Sabarimala verdict and the push for the UCC often have an unstated objective: to dismantle the distinct personal laws of minority communities under the guise of gender justice or equality.

Q: Beyond the state, do you view the media as a “secondary prison”? You are often in the eye of the media storm. How do you navigate this form of social surveillance?

A: The media is the fourth pillar of democracy, and dismissing it as merely oppressive would be a mistake. Rather than blaming the media, we must understand its power and learn how to engage with it intelligently. Media does not operate in a vacuum; it reflects social anxieties, political alignments, and economic interests.

Every media house has a core editorial position. In India, for example, Republic TV is largely right-leaning, while NDTV traditionally represents a more left-liberal perspective. In the United States, Fox News and CNN perform similar ideological roles. There is no purpose in lamenting this bias—it is a structural reality of modern democracies.

The real strategy lies in using the media as a platform rather than seeing it as a cage. If you are clear, consistent, and grounded in facts, you can raise your point even within hostile spaces. Avoid emotional overreaction, avoid provocation, and focus on substance. Media engagement, when done responsibly, can inform the public and ultimately benefit the people we represent.

Q: What about the role of Big Tech and algorithmic surveillance?

A: Big Tech companies in Silicon Valley do operate under constraints—commercial, ideological, and algorithmic. Whether it is Elon Musk or other tech leaders, platforms often tilt either to the Right or the Left. But I do not subscribe to the idea of a hidden “deep state” conspiracy controlling these platforms.

Algorithms are not neutral; they amplify what generates engagement. This can distort public discourse, but the solution is not paranoia. Our responsibility, especially as public figures, is to remain fair, factual, and truthful—even when algorithms reward sensationalism.

We must resist the temptation to become propagandists. Truth does not need shouting; it needs consistency. In an age of digital surveillance and algorithmic power, balance, integrity, and intellectual honesty are our strongest tools. That balance is what preserves democracy.

Q:  You have emphasized the need for “political honesty” and finding a middle ground. Regarding the Palestine issue, you recently visited Israel. What was your perspective there?

A: During the war, the Israeli government invited about 90 people from India, including myself. I was very clear and honest with them. I said, “I am with the children in Palestine. I am with Mahatma Gandhi.” For me, that was not a slogan but a moral position rooted in conscience.

When I met their ministers, my very first question was simple yet uncomfortable: “What about Gaza?” Any discussion that avoids the humanitarian reality is incomplete. .

It pains me deeply to see the descendants of Abraham—people tied by shared lineage and faith—locked in endless cycles of violence. Extremists, particularly in Israel, do not want a middle ground. I have an eight-year-old son and a two-year-old son. If they were born there, the suffering they would endure—the absence of clean water, sanitation, food, and basic dignity—would be unbearable. Whether it is a four-year-old Arab child or a Jewish child, their pain is the same. Humanity does not wear an identity card. Justice, therefore, lies in a sensible, humane balance, not in vengeance.

Q:  You equate justice with balance. In the Indian context, this relates to Dharma. How do you define this?

A: One of the most profound ideas in Indian civilization is “Dharma Rakshati Rakshitha”—if you protect Dharma, Dharma will protect you. Dharma is far deeper than the English word “righteousness.” It is a living concept that combines truth, justice, compassion, responsibility, and balance.

Unfortunately, in recent times, some right-wing political strategies have used Dharma as a mask for extreme and exclusionary politics. But that is not Dharma—it is its distortion. True Dharma, as lived by Mahatma Gandhi and taught by Prophet Muhammad, reminds us of a powerful moral principle: evil cannot be defeated by becoming evil yourself.

Darkness cannot be removed by more darkness; hatred cannot be defeated by hatred. This idea—responding to wrong with what is right, and meeting hate with love—is not weakness. It is moral courage. That, to me, is the essence of Dharma.

Q:  This balance you speak of seems difficult to maintain when polarization is rewarded politically. How do you reconcile your conservative activism with this commitment to balance, especially when your own party structures may demand more extreme positions?

A:  This is perhaps the most difficult question you’ve asked. The political marketplace today rewards absolutism, not nuance. Social media algorithms amplify outrage, not thoughtfulness. When I speak of balance, my own supporters sometimes accuse me of being soft or compromised. But here’s what I’ve learned: real courage isn’t in shouting the loudest or being the most extreme. Real courage is holding your ground on principles while remaining open to dialogue. When I met Israeli ministers, I didn’t soften my stand on Gaza. When I advocate for men’s issues, I don’t diminish women’s suffering. These positions can coexist. The surveillance state thrives on our inability to hold complexity. It wants us to choose sides completely, to be either-or. But Dharma demands "both-and" thinking. I can be a conservative who opposes certain feminist positions while supporting women’s genuine rights. I can be religious while respecting secular space. This isn’t contradiction—it’s maturity. The system wants us polarized because polarized people are predictable, controllable. They fit neatly into the state’s categories of surveillance. Balance makes you unpredictable, and that’s threatening to power structures that depend on clear classifications.