The "dark days of the Emergency" are not a thing of the past—they are our current reality.
Published Jun 27, 2025 | 7:59 PM ⚊ Updated Jun 27, 2025 | 7:59 PM
As many as 75 revolutionary activists and sympathisers were killed in fake encounters by Andhra Pradesh police during the Emergency.
Synopsis: As far as Telangana is concerned, the experiences and consequences of the Emergency have not come out in a comprehensive, complete manner—only in bits and pieces, here and there. The repression in northern India during the Emergency received significant attention, whereas what happened in the southern states was not widely reported.
It has been fifty years, as of midnight on 25 June, since that dark episode began—when, acting on Prime Minister Indira Gandhi’s advice to overturn the Allahabad High Court’s judgement invalidating her election, President Fakhruddin Ali Ahmed declared a state of Emergency in the country. Fundamental rights were suspended, censorship was imposed on the press, and the entire nation was plunged into darkness.
This is a landmark moment, and many have been sharing their memories, reflections, criticisms, and analyses over the past fifty years, especially on this occasion.
As far as Telangana is concerned, the experiences and consequences of the Emergency have not come out in a comprehensive, complete manner—only in bits and pieces, here and there. The repression in northern India during the Emergency received significant attention, whereas what happened in the southern states was not as widely reported.
Tamil Nadu was relatively unaffected because it had an opposition DMK government. However, the other three southern states—Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka, and Kerala—were ruled by Congress governments (CPI and Congress were then part of the ruling United Front in Kerala, and K Karunakaran of the Congress held the Home portfolio) and experienced severe repression. Still, except for a few notable incidents such as P Rajan in Kerala, Snehalata Reddy in Karnataka, and the Girayipalli encounter in Andhra Pradesh, a complete record of the Emergency’s brutalities remains absent from history.
With Jalagam Vengala Rao as the chief minister and Telangana already a region of growing mass movements, the area became a primary target of Emergency repression. The suspension of constitutional guarantees of fundamental rights, denial of permissions for meetings and protests, arrests of thousands under the MISA (Maintenance of Internal Security Act), illegal detentions without even formal arrest procedures, weeks-long internments in police camps accompanied by brutal torture, police atrocities, banning of organisations, fake encounters, censorship that suppressed real information—all these repressive measures were extensively implemented in Telangana as well.
The Emergency declaration also brought the constitutional suspension of Chapter III—the section safeguarding fundamental rights. Along with curbing freedoms of expression and association, pre-censorship on the press was enforced. Newspapers had to submit their articles and commentary to the District Collector (and through them, to police officials) for prior approval before publishing. With Emergency powers bestowing vast authority on the police, they could pick up anyone from the streets arbitrarily. This led to an atmosphere where students and youth were even afraid to walk in public or chat in popular Irani cafés.
Ten days after the Emergency was declared, the central government banned 23 organisations, citing their involvement in activities “disturbing to internal security, public order, and law and order.” Alongside organisations like the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), Jamaat-e-Islami, and Ananda Marga, the government banned Marxist-Leninist revolutionary parties and organisations nationwide. At the time, Telangana had three or four active Marxist-Leninist parties led by Kondapalli Seetharamaiah, Chandra Pulla Reddy, Tarimela Nagi Reddy, and Devulapalli Venkateswara Rao.
Additionally, many local student, youth, labour, and writer associations influenced by Naxalbari politics were active, such as Revolutionary Writers’ Association (VIRASAM), Civil Liberties Committee, Radical Students Union, and Progressive Democratic Students Union. All these organisations, officially or unofficially, were banned throughout the 21 months of the Emergency.
Arrests began on the very night the Emergency was declared, starting in the early hours of 26 June. Leaders of VIRASAM were arrested across districts in Andhra Pradesh. Civil Liberties Committee General Secretary and lawyer Prathipati Venkateswarlu was among the first to be detained. Leaders from PDSU and RSU, opposition party leaders, socialist party members, and trade unionists were also arrested.
Hundreds were imprisoned under the MISA and the Defense of India Rules (DIR), often without any legal basis. The atmosphere of fear and suspicion grew so intense that even dissenters within the Congress party were jailed.
During the 21 months, police regularly picked up suspects and held them in specially designated camps for weeks, subjecting them to brutal torture. After the Emergency ended and democracy was restored, numerous articles, testimonies, and books documented these torture methods. One such account, by a revolutionary sympathiser and writer who endured these horrors, was turned into the novel, Cheekati Rojulu (“Dark Days”), by Ampashayya Naveen. That book stands as a grim indicator of the scale and intensity of repression faced by dissenters in Telangana.
Fake encounters first started in Srikakulam in 1969, soon spread to Telangana, and became rampant during the Emergency. One of the most infamous was the Girayipalli encounter in the Medak district. Just a few weeks after the Emergency was declared, police arrested Surapaneni Janardhan, a student at Warangal Regional Engineering College and a leader in the Radical Students Union, from a friend’s room in Hyderabad. Along with Lanka Murali Mohan Reddy, Kolisetti Ananda Rao, and Vanaparthi Sudhakar—all Warangal students—he was tortured for days in the Mulugu forest guesthouse.
On the night of 24-25 July, they were taken to the Girayipalli forest, tied to trees, and shot dead. In all, 75 revolutionary activists and sympathisers were killed in fake encounters by Andhra Pradesh police during the Emergency.
Another tragedy Telangana endured was the hanging of Bhoomayya and Kishtagoud. Although they had been sentenced to death by the Asifabad Sessions Court in 1972, appeals to the High Court, Supreme Court, and the President for clemency failed. The state planned to execute them on 26 November 1974, but a nationwide protest movement began to stop the hangings. Amidst continued agitation, the state set a new execution date for 11 May but halted it due to technical issues. Eventually, during the pitch darkness of the Emergency, when no protests or legal remedies were possible, the two men were hanged on 1 December 1975.
These are just a few examples of the repression and trauma experienced during those 21 months, both by society at large and by activists in particular. The full scale of the Emergency’s horrors has yet to be comprehensively documented.
Yet, when Indira Gandhi lifted the Emergency and called for elections in 1977, she suffered a crushing defeat. In Andhra Pradesh, however, the Congress returned to power. Still, because the Janata Party ruled at the center and censorship was lifted, a democratic wave swept across the country from April 1977 until Indira Gandhi’s return to power in January 1980. Despite Congress’s control at the state level, Andhra Pradesh too felt the impact of this national democratic resurgence.
To investigate Emergency excesses, the central government established the Justice JC Shah Commission. Specifically, to probe fake encounters in Andhra Pradesh, a separate committee headed by Justice VM Tarkunde was formed, with the encouragement of Lok Nayak Jayaprakash Narayan. After touring the state and collecting evidence, the Tarkunde Committee concluded that 75 people had been killed in fake encounters. Based on its findings, the central government set up the Justice Bhargava Commission to investigate specific cases with substantial evidence. Alongside the Girayipalli encounter, it examined the Chilakalagutta case involving the murders of Vimochana state secretary P Ramanarsaiah and PDSU leader Srihari, which had been passed off as encounters.
During the Bhargava Commission hearings on the Girayipalli case, dozens of witnesses testified that the four students had been arrested, tortured for days, and then murdered. Bhikshapati, who had been tied up alongside them but mysteriously spared, gave a chilling testimony. Physical evidence—including bullet marks on trees and guesthouse register entries showing police occupation—was submitted by civil libertarian KG Kannabiran to the Commission. Journalist Adiraju Venkateswara Rao spoke with the police officer who was actually involved and later wrote a book titled Hantakulevaru? (“Who Were the Killers?”). The evidence clearly showed this was a deliberate mass murder. The press widely covered the Commission’s hearings, exposing police brutality to the world.
Under pressure from the police, the then-chief minister Channa Reddy wrote to the Commission claiming that public hearings demoralized police morale and requesting in-camera proceedings. Justice Bhargava refused and withdrew from the Commission, and the entire inquiry collapsed. Nonetheless, the investigation laid bare the police’s murderous conduct and rogue behaviour.
Fifty years later, these are not just stories of the past—they remain frighteningly relevant. They are happening all over again. But now, with greater sophistication, enhanced by decades of technological advances, a more corrupt political leadership, and an even more power-hungry police machinery. The dark days of the Emergency have returned in the form of an undeclared Emergency. The repression of civil society is greater than ever. The draconian UAPA has replaced the MISA. Arrests and torture continue with greater frequency. Fake encounters are now openly announced in advance, part of a sustained killing campaign. Suppression of freedom of expression is heavier, more repressive, and backed by stronger surveillance technologies.
The “dark days of the Emergency” are not a thing of the past—they are our current reality. Was that dark night the only one? Has it really ended? When will this long, seemingly endless night give way to dawn?
(Views are personal. Edited by Majnu Babu).
