Case Explained: When Human Rights Advocacy Becomes a Crime – Legal Perspective

The voice of thirty-three respected international human rights organizations—ranging from Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch to the International Federation for Human Rights and the World Organisation Against Torture—should have resonated loudly across global capitals. Their joint call on March 19, 2026, urging the release of Kashmiri human rights defenders Irfan Mehraj and Khurram Parvez, was not merely another statement in the crowded field of advocacy. It was a collective alarm—measured, credible, and morally urgent. Yet, the silence that followed has been equally telling.

At the heart of this appeal lies a simple but profound question: What happens when those who document human rights violations become the targets of those violations themselves?

Irfan Mehraj is not an obscure figure operating in the shadows. He is an accomplished journalist whose work has appeared in respected international and Indian outlets. From Deutsche Welle to TRT World, from The Indian Express to The Wire, Mehraj has consistently demonstrated a commitment to truth-telling in one of the most heavily militarized and scrutinized regions in the world. His recognition with the Human Rights and Religious Freedom Journalism Award in 2024 further underscores his credibility. And yet, today, he remains behind bars.

His alleged “crime”? Being associated with Khurram Parvez—a globally recognized human rights defender and Program Coordinator of the Jammu Kashmir Coalition of Civil Society (JKCCS). Parvez himself is no stranger to international acclaim. Named among the world’s 100 most influential people by Time magazine in 2022, he has spent decades documenting abuses and advocating for accountability. And yet, he too remains imprisoned — detained for over four years under laws that have increasingly drawn international scrutiny.

The use of the Unlawful Activities Prevention Act (UAPA) in these cases raises troubling questions. Designed ostensibly to combat terrorism, the law permits prolonged detention without formal charges, effectively allowing incarceration to precede—and sometimes replace—due process. Amnesty International has already warned that such legislation is being misused to target dissenting voices, particularly journalists and human rights defenders. If laws meant to ensure security are instead employed to silence accountability, then the distinction between rule of law and rule by law begins to erode.

The joint NGO statement makes this concern explicit. It highlights not only the individual cases of Irfan Mehraj and Khurram Parvez but also points to a broader “pattern of persecution” in Jammu and Kashmir. This is not about isolated incidents; it is about a systematic environment where civil society space is shrinking, where independent journalism is increasingly precarious, and where dissent is conflated with disloyalty.

Perhaps most striking is that these concerns are not being raised solely by advocacy groups. United Nations Special Rapporteurs, including Mary Lawlor, have publicly affirmed that Khurram Parvez is “not a terrorist” but a human rights defender. When such clarity emerges from independent UN experts, it demands serious reflection—particularly from a country that occupies a seat on the UN Human Rights Council.

This brings us to a deeper and more uncomfortable contradiction. India often presents itself as the world’s largest democracy—a nation committed to pluralism, rule of law, and fundamental freedoms. These are not insignificant claims; they carry weight in international diplomacy. But democracy is not measured by declarations; it is measured by conduct—especially in moments of criticism.

How does a democracy respond when confronted by credible allegations from thirty-three international organizations? Does it engage, investigate, and reform? Or does it dismiss, deflect, and detain?

The historical record offers a useful comparison. In many democratic societies, even a single critical report from an impartial NGO can trigger parliamentary debates, judicial inquiries, and policy reviews. Governments may contest the findings, but they rarely ignore them. The legitimacy of democratic institutions depends, in part, on their willingness to be scrutinized.

In contrast, the continued detention of Irfan Mehraj and Khurram Parvez—despite sustained international concern—suggests a troubling indifference. It sends a message that external criticism, no matter how credible, can be disregarded without consequence. This indifference has implications beyond Kashmir.

When a member of the UN Human Rights Council is accused of suppressing those who document human rights abuses, it raises questions about the credibility of the Council itself. Membership is not merely symbolic; it carries an expectation of adherence to the highest standards of human rights practice. Failure to meet these standards risks undermining the very institution designed to uphold them.

Moreover, the issue is not confined to legal frameworks or institutional credibility. At its core, it is about people—individuals who have dedicated their lives to documenting suffering, amplifying marginalized voices, and seeking justice through peaceful means. When such individuals are imprisoned, the message to society is unmistakable: silence is safer than truth. And yet, history teaches us that silencing truth does not eliminate it. It merely postpones its reckoning.

The joint statement by these thirty-three organizations is, therefore, more than an appeal for the release of two individuals. It is a call to reaffirm a fundamental principle: that defending human rights should never be treated as a crime.

The international community now faces its own test. Will it treat this as just another statement—filed, noted, and forgotten? Or will it act with the urgency and seriousness that the situation demands?

The answer to that question will not only shape the fate of Irfan Mehraj and Khurram Parvez. It will also signal whether the global commitment to human rights remains a living principle—or merely a rhetorical aspiration.

–Dr Ghulam Nabi Fai is Chairman, World Forum for Peace & Justice