New Delhi: The government’s directive requiring telecom operators and smartphone manufacturers to pre-install its “security” application — Sanchar Saathi — on all mobile handsets has triggered a firestorm across the country’s political and digital landscape on Tuesday. What is being promoted as a “safety measure” has instead sparked serious fears of surveillance, coercive control, and state intrusion into the most personal device people own.
Despite official assurances that the “well-intentioned” move is meant to curb spam calls and digital fraud, critics warn that it opens the door to mass monitoring, pervasive tracking, and a national-security vulnerability of unprecedented scale. Rather than strengthening digital safety, many fear it could give the government — or anyone who manages to exploit the app — the power to peer into citizens’ private lives at will.
According to the government, the app is essential to protect citizens in an increasingly dangerous digital environment. Proponents argue that with millions falling victim to financial scams and identity theft, a centralized government-backed tool is necessary for rapid response and consumer protection. The vision being projected is of a safer digital ecosystem where fraud can be reported instantly and unauthorized communications quickly blocked.
However, Congress leader K C Venugopal called the directive “beyond constitutional” and branded the app a “dystopian tool to monitor every Indian”.
“The government should explain everything to the public instead of just passing an order through media leaks. We need a discussion where the government lays out the idea behind the decision,” said Congress MP Shashi Tharoor.
Priyanka Chaturvedi, Rajya Sabha MP from Shiv Sena (UBT), added, “The Sanchar Saathi mandate is nothing but another BIG BOSS surveillance moment.”
Later in the day, Communications Minister Jyotiraditya Scindia issued a clarification: “There is no snooping or call monitoring… If you don’t want the app, don’t activate it. If you want it, keep it. If you want to delete it, delete it.” The controversy, however, remains far from settled.
Strong Defence
On Dialogus, BJP spokesperson Sudesh Verma strongly defends the policy, framing it as a proactive measure for consumer safety in a country vulnerable to cybercrime and terrorism. He questioned what he described as selective outrage on privacy, pointing to the vast amounts of personal information already held by private tech giants. “We trust Facebook, we trust Google, we trust WhatsApp, but we don’t trust the government?” he asks.
Verma argued that most citizens prioritize security over abstract privacy concerns. “The common person can use the app and block anything if they want… So if the government is bringing an app to save them, for consumer safety, why create a fuss?”
He emphasized the app’s usefulness for less tech-savvy users and tied the initiative to national security. “If we remain alive, then we will talk about privacy. First, we have to stay alive,” he said, describing the policy as an “enabling legislation” for a safer society. While acknowledging the need for safeguards, he asserts that India’s digital security framework is still evolving, and “incremental legislation” is inevitable.
Sounding Alarm
In stark contrast, digital rights activist and MediaNama editor Nikhil Pahwa has sounded a strong alarm, describing the mandate as a dangerous slide toward a surveillance state that undermines fundamental rights. He questions why installation must be mandatory at all. “If people want the app, the government should run awareness campaigns… Whoever doesn’t want it, doesn’t want it. Why is this being forced onto our phones?” he asks.
Pahwa’s primary technical concern is the creation of a massive single point of failure. “If the entire country has the same mandatory app, that creates a security vulnerability. If it gets hacked, someone could steal data from millions of phones.”
He points to reports that the app requires access to call records and files — permissions he sees as extremely risky, especially for journalists, activists and opposition leaders whose private communications could be compromised. “This creates a vulnerability for everyone. If the government has access to your device, in a democracy this can be very dangerous because it can interfere with the democratic process.”
Facebook, Instagram, etc., are accountable to us. But the government has no accountability for data collection, says digital rights activist and MediaNama editor Nikhil Pahwa. (Pic credit: PickPic)
He also challenges the government’s claim of accountability, noting that the newly-passed Data Protection Act exempts government entities from data-protection obligations. “Facebook, Instagram, etc., are accountable to us. But the government has no accountability for data collection,” Pahwa says. He cites the government’s previous stance against privacy as a fundamental right, along with past instances where state agencies sold citizen data. “The government sells our data… This is proof.”
Slippery Slope
The debate extends beyond the app to a related proposal on SIM-based binding, which would link messaging services like WhatsApp to a specific SIM card. Pahwa calls this another violation of digital freedom. “If I want to use WhatsApp on desktop, I cannot because of this,” he explains. He warns of a slippery slope in which more and more government apps could become mandatory for access to services, gradually eliminating user choice.
Verma, however, views these reforms as interconnected pillars of a secure digital identity architecture, crucial for law enforcement and fraud prevention in a country of India’s scale. Here lies the fundamental disconnect: one side sees a protective shield, the other sees a mechanism of state control and a structural vulnerability.
This controversy embodies a defining global tension of the digital age — the balance between collective security and individual privacy. India’s attempt to mandate a security solution has now become a flashpoint for this larger conflict. The government, represented by voices like Verma, casts itself as a protector leveraging technology for the public good. Critics like Pahwa see a pattern of tightening digital control and the erosion of the fundamental right to privacy affirmed by the Supreme Court.
As implementation draws near, the outcome will hinge not only on whether Sanchar Saathi reduces fraud but also on whether the government can build public trust, guarantee data protection, and prove that safety does not come at the cost of democratic freedoms. The resolution of this clash will set a significant precedent for the future of digital governance in the world’s largest democracy.