The Uttarakhand High Court put the name "Mohammad" in quotes. Not scare quotes exactly—legal quotes, the kind that signal skepticism, doubt, or emphasis. But the effect was the same.
How can an accused seek police protection, the court asked, questioning why "Mohammad" Deepak needed security when he himself faces criminal charges. The quotation marks around Mohammad weren't incidental. They were central to the court's reasoning.
According to LiveLaw, the High Court bench was hearing a petition from Deepak, a resident of Haridwar district, seeking police protection after receiving threats following his arrest in a case involving allegations of religious conversion.
The bench, comprising Justice Sharad Kumar Sharma and Justice Alok Verma, expressed skepticism about the petition, noting that Deepak is himself an accused in a criminal case and questioned the propriety of granting him police protection.
"How can an accused person seek protection from the very system prosecuting him?" the court asked. But it was the reference to "Mohammad" Deepak that raised eyebrows among constitutional lawyers watching the proceedings.
The petitioner's full name, as per his Aadhaar card and official documents, is Mohammad Deepak. He is a Muslim man with a name that reflects both his religious identity (Mohammad) and a common Hindu given name (Deepak). Such names are not unusual in India, particularly in mixed-faith families or communities.
But the court's decision to place "Mohammad" in quotation marks suggested doubt—doubt about the authenticity of the name, doubt about the petitioner's identity, or doubt about his motives in using a Muslim name alongside a Hindu one.
Constitutional law experts immediately flagged the language as problematic.
"Judicial language matters enormously," said Prof. Mrinal Satish, a criminal law professor at National Law University Delhi. "When a court puts someone's name in scare quotes, it signals disbelief. It suggests the name is fake, assumed, or somehow illegitimate. For a High Court to do this with a Muslim name sends a deeply troubling message about how the judiciary views Muslim identity."
The case itself involves allegations that Deepak was involved in religious conversion activities in Haridwar, a charge he denies. He was arrested in February 2026 under Uttarakhand's anti-conversion law, which criminalizes forced or fraudulent religious conversions.
Deepak claims he received multiple death threats after his arrest, allegedly from right-wing activists who accused him of "love jihad" and conversion conspiracies. He sought police protection on grounds that his life was in danger.
The High Court dismissed his petition as "an attempt to sensationalize the matter," according to LiveLaw's reporting. The bench said granting protection to an accused would set a bad precedent and suggested Deepak was using the legal system to evade consequences.
But the "Mohammad" in quotes troubled legal observers for reasons beyond the petition's merits.
"There's no legal or grammatical reason to put someone's first name in quotation marks unless you're suggesting it's not their real name," explained Adv. Gautam Bhatia, a Supreme Court advocate. "The court's order doesn't explain why 'Mohammad' is in quotes. That omission is significant. It implies bias without stating it outright."
Similar cases of judicial language reflecting bias have surfaced in recent years. Courts referring to hijabs as "religious attire" in quotes, orders describing Muslim dietary practices as "alleged customs," judgments questioning the authenticity of waqf property claims—all using quotation marks to signal skepticism toward Islamic practices or identities.
"It's subtle, but it's corrosive," said Prof. Faizan Mustafa, Vice-Chancellor of Chanakya National Law University. "Judicial language shapes public perception. When courts use scare quotes around Muslim names or practices, it legitimizes suspicion. It tells citizens: This identity is doubtful, this claim is questionable, this person isn't quite who they say they are."
The Uttarakhand High Court's order also raises questions about access to justice for accused persons facing threats. While it's true that being an accused limits certain legal protections, the right to life under Article 21 of the Constitution applies universally—including to those facing criminal charges.
"Even a convicted murderer has the right to police protection if there's a credible threat to their life," noted Adv. Vrinda Grover, a human rights lawyer. "The fact that someone is accused doesn't erase their constitutional rights. The court's reasoning here is troubling on multiple levels."
The Haridwar context matters. The city, a major Hindu pilgrimage site on the Ganges River, has been a flashpoint for religious tensions. In December 2021, a religious conclave in Haridwar saw speakers openly calling for violence against Muslims. Cases were registered, but prosecutions have been slow.
Deepak's lawyers argue that the threats against him are credible and come from organized groups with a history of violence. They pointed to social media posts naming Deepak and calling for his "punishment" for alleged conversion activities.
The court was unmoved, calling the petition an attempt to "sensationalize" and gain sympathy.
But the language—the "Mohammad" in quotes—will likely outlive the petition's dismissal. It's already being cited on social media as evidence of judicial skepticism toward Muslim claims, shared approvingly by some, condemned by others.
"This is how bias embeds itself in institutions," said Dr. Hilal Ahmed, a political scientist studying communalism. "Not through dramatic pronouncements, but through subtle linguistic choices. Quotation marks. Phrasing. The court may not have intended to signal bias against Muslims. But intent doesn't matter when the effect is to cast doubt on a Muslim name simply for being Muslim."
As of late March, Deepak remains in judicial custody, his protection petition dismissed. His lawyers are considering an appeal to the Supreme Court, though they acknowledge the challenges.
"How do you appeal against quotation marks?" asked one lawyer privately. "The order doesn't explicitly say anything bigoted. It just implies it. And implications are harder to challenge than statements."
For Muslim litigants across India, the Uttarakhand order is another data point in a troubling pattern. Names questioned. Practices doubted. Claims viewed with suspicion. All of it encoded in the careful, formal language of judicial orders—language that carries the weight of constitutional authority.
"Mohammad" Deepak is one man with one case in one High Court. But the quotation marks around his name speak to something larger: the quiet ways that bias enters legal language, the subtle signals courts send about whose identities are legitimate and whose are subject to doubt.
A billion people aren't a statistic. But when courts put your name in quotes, you become something less than a person—a question mark, a doubt, an identity not quite recognized by the very institutions meant to protect your constitutional rights.
