Destroying art is less evil than destroying life — however authentic the inspiration in either case. But Gujarat has now witnessed both, carried off with impunity. While the riot cases flounder in a legal maze, Vishwa Hindu Parishad and Bajrang Dal activists in Surat have been at it again. Nothing they have done this time is new. Works of art have been defaced before in India, and gallery-owners threatened. The “objections” are also tediously familiar — obscenity, hurt religious feelings. What is new this time is the success with which the vandals have managed to intimidate the owner of the gallery. Mr Praful Shah has made a written promise to the objectors that not only would the offending works be removed, but the local Hindu right will also be consulted before any future display of art, to make sure that nothing causes offence. Quite understandably, the entire community of artists — in Gujarat and in the rest of the country — is outraged. This is a sad and shaming defeat for them, and for those who value their freedom. The feather of another successful experiment, although with a different medium, is now in Gujarat’s cap, another clear indication that the state’s law and order machinery inspires no confidence in its ordinary people. Otherwise, why should Mr Shah give in so easily?

VHP and Bajrang Dal cadre who massacre or vandalize are customarily referred to as the “lunatic fringe” by those who perceive increasing signs of moderation in the nation’s political establishment. But what about instances like Mr Girish Karnad resigning from the chair of the jury of this year’s Mumbai International Film Festival? He was protesting against the arbitrary rejection of around 30 award-winning documentaries — all on politically awkward subjects — by the Films Division. A number of film-makers have preceded Mr Karnad in breaking away from this government event and forming their alternative festival. Earlier, the government had introduced a censorship clause for documentaries, against all international festival norms. However, concerted protests worked, and the Centre removed this censorship clause. But it has been brought in now through the backdoor, as part of a sneakily complicated selection red-tape. It was certainly wishful thinking on the part of the government to hope that some of the country’s most astutely political film-makers, like Mr Anand Patwardhan, would not notice this. Is such censorship also to be considered as coming from some sort of a bigoted “fringe”? Or is this fringe now wide enough to get disconcertingly close to the heart of things in India?