According to Devika Sethi, War over Words “locates itself within the traditional model of censorship studies, and its focus is on direct forms of institutionalized and regulatory censorship. It describes censorial institutions, practices, policies, and debates over censorship in the late colonial and early post-colonial periods” (pp. 4–5). Sethi further asserts that “there has been no systematic or detailed attempt to compare censorship policies and practices across these periods” (p. 5). Sethi may well claim novelty when it comes to the “systematic” and “detailed” aspects of her book; indeed, she is to be applauded for due diligence. However, she cannot claim originality as far as the overarching arguments on which it is predicated—that the Raj used censorship systematically and astutely throughout its tenure with varying degrees of success, as well as the fact that the Nehruvian state owed substantively to the precedents of its colonial predecessor with reference to censorship, freedom of expression, and related issues. This thesis is not new, and it has been cogently made by contemporaries including critics, as well as by later historians and theorists. Indeed, one contemporary American diplomat memorably remarked how Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru was the last viceroy to rule India!

War over Words is divided into four parts: “Guarding the State, Protecting the Public: Censorship Policies and Practices in the 1930s,” “Protests and Publicity: Banning Non-Indian Authors,” “Political or Military? Censorship in India during the Second World War,” and, finally, “The Censored Turn Censors: Freedom and Free Speech.” Each part is introduced by a few short paragraphs, followed by longer chapters. There is no considered conclusion to each part, and this is a missed opportunity. However, there are thoughtful observations strewn across the individual chapters, and there is no shortage of case studies and a surfeit of lengthy quotations. The book sets out to explore several interrelated areas, including the role and importance of print under the British Raj, the reactions of the public, the importance of public opinion, the legal responses of the colonial state and Indian politicians in power from 1937 to 1939, the impact of the Second World War on censorship policies, and, finally, charting similar issues during the thirteen years after independence in 1947. While 1930 is an understandable starting date, being pivotal in the context both of imperial policy and nationalist endeavors, one wonders why the book did not cover the entirety of Nehru's tenure as prime minister until his death; one can only assume that historical chronology did not roll off the tongue as easily as 1930–60 does!

Deana Heath has estimated that by 1911, 12 million packages of books and newspapers per annum were being imported from Britain, prompting Sethi to conclude, given this context, that “the number of individual titles banned under the SCA . . . was never very large” (p. 61). Inevitably, we come across some well-known authors such as the American Katherine Mayo (pp. 63–71), who became emblematic in the eyes of nationalists, like Mahatma Gandhi, for their derogatory approach to Indian culture and society—the “drain inspector's report” mentality. Sethi argues that only one of three major books by Mayo written before the war was banned, emphasizing that with respect to the criteria for censorship, a book's “content was secondary to the political context in which it was published” (p. 75). Colonial authorities also had to weigh the publicity generated by the banning of books (by Indians or foreigners) against the impact of the books’ content. There were further criteria complicating the process for the Raj, especially religious sentiment. Sethi devotes several pages to exploring, for example, publications by “non-Indians offensive to Indian Muslims” (pp. 91–121).

The Second World War created additional pressures on the censorship system. One obvious way for government to censor newspapers was to control access to newsprint, which was in short supply everywhere, not simply in India. As Ian Stephens, editor of the major English-language daily, the Statesman, noted, apart from one or two of the largest papers, “almost every other paper in the country was in difficulties” (p. 162). Throughout these years (including after independence), personal influence between journalists, editors, and the Raj was a critical factor in mediating the exercise of control—what Sethi terms “informal censorship” (p. 221)—as was the character of individual viceroys. Lord Wavell (pp. 180–81) was more amenable to reason than some of his predecessors when it came to outright bans and draconian measures against “subversive and seditionist writings” (p. 163). After independence, the successive ministries under Nehru displayed a similar approach, and occasionally a hypersensitivity, to criticism and came to deploy a range of legal and personal measures to bring recalcitrant editors and publications in line, albeit with mixed outcomes (pp. 200–245).

This book is a reworked doctoral thesis and retains some of the hallmarks of that endeavor—for instance, in the introduction, which has not quite lost that “survey of secondary literature” approach so reminiscent of many dissertations. Also, if one is being fastidious, a little more attention to copyediting might have helped correct spelling mistakes—for example, Lord Chatto, not Chato (p. 220)—and sloppy referencing (e.g., pp. 142–44). Further, the pages of the book are packed with many shorter case studies accompanied by brief notes on background, content, and outcome. This rather breathless approach and the sheer mass of data, as we move relentlessly from one example to the next, can often generate more heat than light, and detract from the clarity of the argument. The book works better where Sethi feels able to narrate less, and to step back and analyze in a sustained manner deploying fewer well-chosen examples. Nevertheless, overall, this is a commendable effort highlighting a fascinating aspect of the history of twentieth-century India.