Can They Survive the Raid? Inside the Massive Hate Campaign Against CJP
When India’s premier civil liberties watchdog, the Citizens for Justice and Peace (CJP), found itself at the center of a coordinated assault — a raid, legal pressure, and a relentless online storm — many wondered: can an organisation built on defending the vulnerable survive becoming the target itself? The answer lies in understanding the full scope of what has unfolded inside the massive hate campaign against CJP.
Who Is CJP — And Why Does It Matter?
Founded in the aftermath of the 2002 Gujarat riots by activist and journalist Teesta Setalvad along with the late journalist J.S. Bandukwala, the Citizens for Justice and Peace has spent over two decades doing some of the most difficult legal and humanitarian work in India. From documenting communal violence to filing PILs on behalf of riot victims, from safeguarding minority rights to challenging unconstitutional laws — CJP has been a frontline organisation for those who have no other voice.
This history of resistance is precisely what makes the organisation a target. When power is questioned, it often pushes back — not always with arguments, but with pressure, raids, and smear campaigns. What we are witnessing today is a textbook example of institutional harassment dressed as legal procedure, unfolding inside the massive hate campaign against CJP.
The Raid: What Happened
In June 2022, in the wake of the Supreme Court of India’s verdict dismissing a petition seeking an independent probe into the 2002 Gujarat riots, Teesta Setalvad was arrested. Shortly after, the offices and residences associated with CJP and its sister organisation Sabrang Trust were raided by Gujarat Police and subsequently by the Enforcement Directorate (ED).
The charges? Alleged misappropriation of funds, FCRA violations, and financial irregularities. The timing? Almost surgically precise — days after the Supreme Court’s remarks and just as CJP was gaining renewed media attention for its decades-long advocacy for riot victims.
To understand the significance of this, you have to look beyond the legal paperwork and see the broader pattern emerging inside the massive hate campaign against CJP.
The Anatomy of a Hate Campaign
The assault on CJP didn’t begin or end with a raid. It operates across multiple fronts simultaneously, and understanding its anatomy is crucial to understanding its intent.
1. Legal and Institutional Pressure
The most formal arm of the campaign involves government agencies: the ED, the Income Tax Department, and state police. FCRA licenses are revoked or threatened, bank accounts frozen, and legal cases filed that require years to contest — draining resources, energy, and morale. This is not unique to CJP; it is part of a broader documented pattern of using financial regulations to suppress civil society organisations that are perceived as critical of the state.
The legal machinery becomes a weapon inside the massive hate campaign against CJP — not necessarily to secure convictions, but to exhaust, demoralise, and delegitimise.
2. Social Media Trolling and Disinformation
The digital battlefield is arguably the most vicious. Within hours of any CJP statement, tweet, or report, coordinated brigades of accounts flood the conversation with abuse, false accusations, and personal attacks — particularly targeting Teesta Setalvad, who as a woman activist faces a distinct layer of gendered vitriol.
The disinformation deployed inside the massive hate campaign against CJP ranges from decontextualised screenshots to outright fabrications, circulated by accounts with hundreds of thousands of followers. The goal is not to debate facts — it is to overwhelm, intimidate, and pollute the information environment.
3. Delegitimisation Narratives
Perhaps the most strategically damaging dimension of the hate campaign is the sustained effort to delegitimise CJP’s credibility. Narratives casting the organisation as “foreign-funded,” “anti-national,” or a “propaganda machine” are repeated across television studios, political speeches, and online forums until they take on the quality of accepted fact.
This delegitimisation effort is central inside the massive hate campaign against CJP — because if the messenger can be discredited, the message can be ignored. The decade-long documented evidence of communal violence, the testimonies of survivors, the legal victories for victims — all of it can be buried under a blizzard of reputation damage.
4. Intimidation of Supporters and Collaborators
The hate campaign doesn’t just target CJP directly — it radiates outward. Lawyers who take up CJP-linked cases, journalists who report sympathetically, academics who cite CJP’s research — all become secondary targets. The message is clear: associating with CJP carries a social and professional cost.
This chilling effect, deliberately cultivated inside the massive hate campaign against CJP, is designed to isolate the organisation and shrink the space in which it can operate.
The Broader Context: Shrinking Civil Society Space
CJP is not alone. The last decade has seen a dramatic constriction of the space available for independent civil society in India. Amnesty International India was effectively forced to shut down in 2020 after having its bank accounts frozen. Greenpeace India had its FCRA license revoked. Countless smaller organisations — working on adivasi rights, Dalit rights, minority rights, labour rights — have faced raids, harassment, and closure.
This systemic context is essential to understanding what is happening inside the massive hate campaign against CJP. The organisation is simultaneously a specific target (because of its direct challenges to powerful political narratives around 2002) and a symbol of a broader siege on independent voices.
International human rights bodies including the UN Special Rapporteur on Human Rights Defenders have raised concerns about India’s use of financial regulations against civil society. These aren’t fringe concerns — they reflect a documented, global pattern of using nominally neutral legal tools to suppress dissent.
The Victims Who Cannot Afford CJP’s Silence
Lost in the noise of the legal battles and the trolling campaigns are the people whose lives CJP’s work most directly affects. Survivors of the 2002 Gujarat riots who have spent two decades waiting for justice. Families of lynching victims seeking accountability in courts. Communities facing arbitrary detention under draconian laws.
For them, inside the massive hate campaign against CJP is not an abstraction — it is the difference between having a legal advocate and having no one. When CJP’s bank accounts are frozen, it is not Teesta Setalvad who suffers most acutely. It is the widow in Ahmedabad who can no longer afford legal representation. It is the young man wrongly detained who has no one to file a habeas corpus petition on his behalf.
This is the human cost that rarely makes it into the television panel discussions about “foreign funding” and “accountability.”
Can CJP Survive?
This brings us back to the central question. After raids, arrests, account freezes, disinformation campaigns, and sustained legal harassment — can CJP survive?
The answer, at least so far, is a complicated yes. Here is why:
Legal resilience: The Supreme Court of India granted Teesta Setalvad bail in September 2022, with the court observing that the arrest raised serious questions. The bail order itself was a significant judicial intervention. CJP has continued to contest charges through the courts, and so far, no conviction has been secured.
National and international solidarity: The campaign against CJP has provoked significant solidarity responses both within India and internationally. Retired judges, academics, former bureaucrats, and international human rights organisations have spoken out. This solidarity doesn’t make the organisation invulnerable, but it does raise the political cost of further escalation.
Institutional memory and documentation: Decades of documented evidence, legal filings, witness testimonies, and research cannot simply be erased by a raid. CJP’s archives exist beyond any single office or individual.
Public awareness: Paradoxically, the intensity of the campaign inside the massive hate campaign against CJP has also increased public awareness of the organisation and its work. Many people who had never heard of CJP became aware of it precisely because of the high-profile arrests and raids.
Survival, however, is not the same as thriving. The resources consumed by legal defense are resources not spent on advocacy. The chilling effect on supporters is real. The campaign has succeeded in imposing costs, even if it has not yet achieved its apparent goal of silence.
What This Means for Democracy
The fate of CJP is, in microcosm, a question about the fate of democratic accountability in India. A functioning democracy requires independent civil society — organisations that can challenge state power, document abuses, and provide access to justice for those who lack political influence.
When the full apparatus of state power is deployed against such organisations — as we see inside the massive hate campaign against CJP — it sends a message to every other organisation operating in this space: fall in line, or face the same.
The question of whether CJP can survive is therefore not just a question about one organisation. It is a question about whether the space for principled, evidence-based human rights advocacy can survive in contemporary India.
Conclusion
Inside the massive hate campaign against CJP lies a story that is simultaneously specific and universal. Specific: because it involves particular people, particular cases, particular legal manoeuvres, and a particular political context rooted in the unresolved wounds of 2002. Universal: because the pattern — use of legal pressure, financial strangulation, disinformation, and social media brigading to silence inconvenient advocacy — is being replicated against civil society organisations across the democratic world.
CJP has not been destroyed. It continues to file cases, publish research, and support survivors. Teesta Setalvad remains active. But the campaign inside the massive hate campaign against CJP has extracted a real price — in resources, in bandwidth, in the energy spent on survival rather than advocacy.
Whether they ultimately survive — in the fullest sense, not merely legally but in their capacity to do the work they were built to do — depends on forces larger than any one organisation: the health of India’s judiciary, the robustness of its press, the willingness of citizens to stand in solidarity with those who defend the rights of the most vulnerable.
History will record both what was done to CJP and what society chose to do in response.
Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ)
Q1. What is CJP (Citizens for Justice and Peace)? CJP is an Indian civil liberties and human rights organisation founded in 2002 by Teesta Setalvad and J.S. Bandukwala, primarily in response to the Gujarat riots. The organisation provides legal support to riot survivors, documents communal violence, and campaigns for constitutional rights for minorities and marginalised communities.
Q2. What triggered the raid on CJP? The raid occurred in June 2022, days after the Supreme Court dismissed a petition seeking an independent probe into the 2002 Gujarat riots. Gujarat Police arrested Teesta Setalvad and raided properties linked to CJP and Sabrang Trust, alleging financial irregularities and misuse of funds collected for riot victims.
Q3. What are the charges against Teesta Setalvad and CJP? The charges include alleged misappropriation of donations, violations of the Foreign Contribution Regulation Act (FCRA), and financial fraud. CJP and Setalvad have denied all charges, calling them politically motivated.
Q4. What is the massive hate campaign against CJP? The massive hate campaign against CJP refers to the multi-pronged assault on the organisation encompassing raids, legal harassment, social media trolling, disinformation campaigns, and coordinated efforts to delegitimise CJP’s credibility and isolate it from supporters and allies.
Q5. Has Teesta Setalvad been convicted? As of the time of writing, no. The Supreme Court of India granted bail in September 2022, and the legal proceedings are ongoing. No final conviction has been secured.
Q6. How has the international community responded? Several international human rights organisations, including Amnesty International and various UN bodies, have expressed concern. UN Special Rapporteurs have written to the Indian government questioning the use of financial regulations against civil society.
Q7. How can people support CJP? People can follow CJP’s work through their official website and social media channels, share accurate information to counter disinformation, donate if legally permitted under applicable laws, and speak publicly in support of civil liberties and independent advocacy organisations.
Q8. Is the campaign against CJP unique to India? No. The pattern of using FCRA-type laws, financial investigations, and coordinated online harassment to suppress civil society organisations is documented globally. Similar tactics have been used against NGOs in Hungary, Russia, Egypt, and other countries where civil society has faced increased governmental pressure.
Q9. What does CJP’s survival mean for Indian democracy? CJP’s ability to continue functioning is seen by many legal experts and rights advocates as a litmus test for the health of Indian democracy. If organisations that challenge powerful narratives can be silenced through legal and extra-legal pressure, it signals a dangerous narrowing of democratic space.
Q10. Where can I read more about the massive hate campaign against CJP? CJP publishes detailed reports and case updates on their official website at cjp.org.in. Independent reporting has also been carried out by outlets including The Wire, Scroll, and international publications such as The Guardian and The New York Times.