The advent of a rival cultural festival inaugurated by the Rajasthan state government led to funding and sponsorship difficulties but the literature section, with its broader national and international base, soon overtook all but the musical events. From a modest program of eighteen writers at a single venue in 2006, Jaipur has become Asia’s largest literary gathering. This year more than 250 writers spoke over five days – truly a big tamasha.

When Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II shifted his capital from Amber to Jaipur in 1727, Rajput noblemen were required to build official residences, and Diggi Palace, where the festival is based, is one of them. Home still to the Thakurs (rulers) of Diggi, a thikana or sub-state located about fifty kilometres from Jaipur, the attractive collection of 1860s pavilions, courtyards, and walled gardens became a hotel in 1991. During past festivals, the lane leading to Diggi Palace was choked with people, cars, and auto-rickshaws. This year it was virtually vehicle-free. Previously anyone could enter freely; this year rigorous security prevailed. Members of the 500-strong police force manned barriers at the main road; inside the gateway, the police presence was obvious, if unobtrusive.

The 2011 festival attracted publicity after alleged racism and a stoush between those who saw themselves as the true founders of the festival, but this was just a whisper compared to what happened when it was revealed that Salman Rushdie would be attending in 2012. Long after the withdrawal of the notorious Iranian fatwa in 1998, Rushdie continues to be pilloried in India and elsewhere because of his The Satanic Verses (1988).

Rushdie had attended the 2007 festival, on which I worked for six months. Concern for his personal security was uppermost in the organisers’ minds, but there was no incident whatsoever. The author was genial and accommodating, the audiences enthusiastic. This year protests soon arose, first from Maulana Abul Qasim Nomani, head of the conservative Darul Uloom seminary in Deoband, in the state of Uttar Pradesh. He demanded that Rushdie should not be given an entry visa to India, despite the fact that, as a PIO (Person of Indian Origin), Rushdie did not need one.

Initially Rushdie was asked to delay his arrival while festival directors endeavoured to defuse the situation and organise additional security. The Rajasthan Congress Party state government, citing security problems, advised Rushdie to stay away. The Central Congress Party government, briefed by Rajasthan, advised of plans by the outlawed Students Islamic Movement of India (SIMI) to target Rushdie, but sought to distance itself. Then so-called reliable intelligence sources in Maharashtra and Rajasthan reported that three assassins from the Mumbai underworld were travelling to Jaipur in order to, in Rushdie’s words, eliminate him. Rushdie asked his own sources in Mumbai to investigate this rumour about the putative hit men. Two seemed to be fictitious; the third was a member of SIMI. Rushdie accused the Rajasthan police and state government of concocting the threat to keep him away from the festival. He lamented that politicians were in bed with religious extremists groups for ‘narrow electoral reasons’ and that these extremists, whom he regards as the true enemies of Islam, were able to prevent free expression.

After airing these serious reservations about the veracity of the rumours, Rushdie announced that ‘it would be irresponsible of me to come to the festival in such circumstances’. Death threats were made against the festival directors, writers Namita Gokhale and William Dalrymple, and the producer, Sanjoy Roy. Notwithstanding, the directors – sensible, tactful, discreet – altered the program and the festival opened on time, with a decided flourish.

Most observers believe that these machinations were connected to the state elections in neighbouring Uttar Pradesh, where the Congress Party is in opposition. Congress General Secretary Rahul Gandhi was actively campaigning there, as was his mother, Sonia Gandhi, President of the Indian National Congress Party and widow of the assassinated prime minister, Rajiv Gandhi.

Unexpectedly, the BJP and other conservative Hindu organisations were vocal in defence of Rushdie’s right to free speech. This was something of an embarrassment to the liberals. By contrast, some secularists, unwilling to offend Muslim sentiment, found themselves defending the ban. Conservative Muslims have exploited the Rushdie affair to create a common voice. The greatest loser is surely Rajasthan Chief Minister Ashok Gehlot, who is seen as cowardly in a state famed throughout history for chivalry and fortitude.

Editorials and commentaries poured scorn on state and central governments. During the festival, questions of democracy and freedom of speech pervaded many excellent sessions. In the session on ‘Creativity, Censorship and Dissent’, Kashmiri, Tamil, and Bangladeshi writers examined the delicate balance between responsibility and freedom in issues of state, academic, and social media censorship. Where is that ephemeral line?

Ram Pratap Singh Diggi announcing that the video link with Salman Rushdie would not proceed. Beside him are festival directors Sanjoy Roy (far left), William Dalrymple (second left), and Namita Gokhale (sixth left) 

Richard Dawkins inveighed against the ‘lamentable disgrace’ of Rushdie’s enforced absence, which he attributed to the ‘virus of faith’. Pakistani writers such as Fatima Bhutto, Ayesha Jalal, and Mohammed Hanif expressed their hopes and fears for their own troubled country. Mohammed Hanif deplored the Rushdie affair and, referring to the Deobandis, said ‘their cousins in Pakistan recently issued a fatwa and banned hair transplants. Nobody took them seriously.’ The Arab Spring was often invoked, with Karima Khalil and Max Rodenbeck from Egypt, Palestinians Raja Shehadeh, Sari Nusseibeh, and Karl Sabbagh, Kamin Mohammadi from Iran, Lebanese Hanan al-Shaykh, as well as Simon Sebag Montefiore. Indian Muslim writers and thinkers also appeared in the balanced program.

Tension reignited at the end of the first day when – quite separately and unbeknown to each other – two pairs of writers, Hari Kunzru and Amitava Kumar, then Jeet Thayil and Ruchir Joshi, read from The Satanic Verses in protest at recent events. Because of the ban that has been in place since 1988, all four, it seemed, had broken the law. Several First Information Reports (FIRs) were lodged by citizens against the writers, as well as the three festival directors, who were thus at risk of police arrest. The four writers hurriedly left town after signing a statement confirming that the festival was not responsible for their actions.

Writers, academics, and critics promptly petitioned the government demanding that it reconsider the ban on The Satanic Verses and support ‘the right of all artists and writers to freedom of expression’:

Within India, in the twenty-three years since the ban, we have witnessed an erosion of respect for freedom of expression, as artists like M.F. Hussain, and Balbir Krishan have been intimidated and works of writers like Rohinton Mistry and A.K. Ramanujan have been withdrawn because of threats by groups claiming to be offended. India is one of the very few countries in the world where the ban stands, placing us alongside Egypt, Pakistan, Iran, Malaysia, Liberia and Papua New Guinea among others. We submit with respect that there is a democratic need to review and re-examine the circumstances that led to the original ban of the Verses in 1988, which have changed greatly over time.

The technical term for banning a book in India is ‘forfeiture’. Under Section 95 of the Criminal Procedure Code, every copy of a banned book may be seized. India has the dubious reputation of being the first country in the world to ban The Satanic Verses, nine days after its publication in Britain, but the ban was actually on the book’s importation from the London-based Viking/Penguin Group. Penguin India’s then consulting editor (the now-venerable Khushwant Singh, whose ninety-seventh birthday card I signed in a Delhi bookshop) declared in 1988 that Rushdie’s novel would offend the religious sensitivities of India’s large Muslim population. Penguin India subsequently declined to issue a local edition. Copies already in the country were not subject to the ban; these sold like hot cakes. Today, anyone who wishes to do so can download a copy of the novel. The four protesting authors had done precisely that. So, in effect, they had no case to answer.

After a quick program change, Rushdie – via a video link – was to appear on the last afternoon in the largest venue, a shaded area that could hold 4500 people at a pinch. Rushdie was due to discuss his childhood, his writing, the many problems he had faced over the years, and the film adaptation of his novel, Midnight’s Children (1981). However, the very prospect of  the sight of the author on a public screen was apparently intolerable to some. Onto the stage came the directors and senior organisers, with Ram Pratap Singh Diggi, who announced that the video would not proceed following advice from police that protesters had infiltrated the property and that large groups were massing in nearby parks to march on Diggi.

It was a charged and emotional moment. Certainly, there were some suspicious-looking young men in the audience. One of them, seated next to me, distracted and restless, began a conversation in poor English. When I explained that the advertised session ‘Reconstructing Rumi’ had been changed, he didn’t seem disappointed; indeed, he had never heard of Rumi.

During the final session, debate was understandably tense. Several firebrand writers and journalists opposed representatives of the Muslim community and demanded to know whether freedom of expression really existed in India. Phrases like ‘It’s a huge defeat’ and ‘It’s a triumph of bigotry’ peppered the dialogue. Debaters denounced the government and the banning of an author. They also pointed to the low education rate and to the deprivation of women’s rights among the Muslim community. The overwhelming popular verdict supported Rushdie.

Despite all this, the Festival Ball, held in the splendid sixteenth-century Amber Fort, saw authors and others kick up their heels and enjoy an excellent party. As I left Diggi Palace, a young man gave me a copy of the Holy Quran and told me I reminded him of his grandmother.

While all these dramatic twists and turns developed, the festival continued seamlessly, much to the credit of the embattled organisers. There was so much to choose from, such a diversity of presenters. Sessions were so crowded that many people chose to sit tight in one venue for three in a row. In a session on the authorship of Shakespeare’s plays, James Shapiro referenced his book 1599: A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare. William Dalrymple followed with a riveting account of the disastrous retreat of the British from Afghanistan in 1841, the subject of his next book. Then came Lionel Shriver, in conversation, to conclude the fascinating triple bill.

The lone Australian writer was Richard Flanagan, who excelled in two panels, ‘Thugs, Emperors and Convicts: The Art of Historical Fiction’, with Michael Ondaatje and others, and in ‘A Small Island: Writing and Insularity’ where Tasmania met Antigua, Sri Lanka, and Mauritius.

Rushdie’s ghostly presence was apparent in many sessions, including ‘The Chutneyfication of English’, a term he invented. A.C. Grayling and Steven Pinker discussed enlightenment, reality, and the meaning of life; while David Hare, Tom Stoppard, and Ariel Dorfman talked about theatre.

Namita Gokhale described the festival as the Kumbh Mela of literary festivals. The Kumbh Mela is one of the world’s largest gatherings, where Hindu pilgrims bathe in the holy waters of the Ganges. The crowds are extraordinary – perhaps as many as seventy million. The comparison is somewhat dangerous, for the Kumbh has a history of stampedes and scuffles. Seventy-five thousand literary pilgrims made the journey to Jaipur and Diggi Palace performed its annual enlargement miracle. Now it is in the lap of the gods as to what will happen in 2013.