The form of “majoritarianism” may vary from one society to another. If there is an authoritarian regime, the manifestation of majoritarianism will be very severe. It will be very crude. It will be very harsh. It will be more reactionary. It may be more brutal in appearance.

But we should never forget this key point: majoritarianism is not only found in non-democratic or illiberal societies. Today, majoritarianism poses a serious threat to democracy.

What is the idea of democracy?

Democracy is understood to be opposed to dictatorship. Democracy is not authoritarianism. Democracy is not monarchy. Democracy is not oligarchy.

This is the definition that is generally accepted by most liberal thinkers.

But Dr. Ambedkar added one important dimension to the idea of democracy and went beyond liberal thinkers. The messiah of the downtrodden said that a true democratic system is one where marginalised community are given opportunities; they are given a space to make laws, and they are in a position to implement policies. In other words, power is shared with the marginalised castes and communities. It is not just the government of the people; it is also government by the people.

If a “democracy” is to be called a democracy, it should not just feel content with holding elections and sending people to legislative assemblies. Unless marginalized communities such as Dalits and Adivasis, and religious minorities such as Muslims, Christians, and Buddhists, among others, are given proper representation, it will not work. If they are not given effective representation, if they are not involved in the process of law-making, and if they are not given a space to implement policies, then that is not democracy.

Dr. Ambedkar has also added another thing: democracy is the system through which we have to bring about social change.

So, in Ambedkar’s view, if society is becoming more and more egalitarian, if inequality is reduced, if marginalised communities are given power and representation, then we can call it a true democracy.

In fact, majoritarianism is the perversion of Dr. Ambedkar’s idea of democracy. While Dr. Ambedkar’s definition of democracy lays stress on effective and proportionate representation and safeguarding minority rights, majoritarianism is the dominance of a particular religious community, caste group, or racial group over the rest of the population.

Under a majoritarian system, a particular caste, a particular religious community, or a particular social group starts believing that they are the “real” citizens of the country. They are the “sons of the soil”. They are the “warrior” race. They are truly “patriotic”, while the rest of the population are “inferior”, “subordinate”, “second-class citizens”, and their culture and their way of life are a “threat” to the nation.

The dominant sections of society, believing in a majoritarian ideology, make efforts to enact laws or promote social practices to disempower minority communities and other weaker sections.

We see the irony in a democratic society most clearly. It is possible that, in the law books, everybody is given equal rights. But in practice, what is happening is that those equal rights are not translated into reality, and a large section of the population is denied what is promised in the Constitution. This is because the majoritarian forces are rising and they sabotage democratic processes.

Friends from Nagaland leave their homes and go to Delhi to pursue higher education. They study at the University of Delhi, JNU, Jamia, and other educational institutions. They also go to other north Indian cities for education and jobs.

Outside their homes, friends from the northeast face discrimination. They are discriminated against at colleges and workplaces. They are made to suffer when they go to get a house on rent. People in north India pass inappropriate comments on them. They create stereotypes about the people of Nagaland and other north-eastern states. These are all manifestations of majoritarianism.

However, in the rule book, in the Constitution of the country, everybody is given the same rights. A person born in Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, West Bengal, or Delhi has the same rights as a person living in Arunachal Pradesh or Nagaland.

But in actual reality, a large number of people, such as Dalits, Adivasis, lower-caste people, religious minorities, and women, are victims of discrimination because democratic processes are being distorted. They are tampered with, and reactionary elements and communal forces that are spreading hatred have become more active in the recent past.

And why are they so active?

Because they get political patronage and support from the system. And this is an ugly manifestation of majoritarianism.

Dr. B. R. Ambedkar has made a wonderful observation that when the dominant groups, when the upper castes, when the caste Hindus serve their own interests, they call it “nationalism”. They call it national interest.

But when a person belonging to the Dalit community or religious minority communities, according to Dr. Ambedkar, and in today’s context, the residents of Dimapur or Nagaland, speaks about their genuine rights, they are dismissed, rejected, and demonized by the dominant sections as “communal” or “sectarian”.

That is why I would like to argue that majoritarianism today is one of the biggest threats to democracy. It lays bare its fangs not only in India but elsewhere also.

Look at the scene at the international level. So much racism is rising across the globe. People from the Black community and other marginalised social groups are discriminated against. They are discriminated against on the basis of colour, on the basis of religion, and on the basis of language. These are against the spirit of humanity.

This is against the message of Jesus Christ. He says that we should love our enemy. And what are we doing today? We are discriminating against our own neighbours and our own fellow citizens, our own people. Today, minorities and other marginalised social groups in India are being attacked in the name of beef, in the name of the “holy” cow.

Indian democracy has given all Indians equal voting rights. But in Parliament, some states dominate policy-making and discourse. Similarly, some castes dominate the process of enacting laws. Are then, the sentiments and interests of the minorities safeguarded while making laws?

I doubt if our rulers and politicians are concerned about protecting the rights of minorities. I would argue that today our ruling classes sitting in Delhi and controlling the system from other north Indian states have been infested with the reactionary ideology of majoritarianism. They believe that India belongs to one race. In their perverted thinking, India is a home of a few upper castes. For them, India belongs to the Aryan race.

We are students of Political Science. There is a paper on Indian Knowledge System, which is almost compulsory at the undergraduate level. Everybody has to opt for it.

And if one goes through the syllabus of the Indian Knowledge System, what does one get?

In the syllabus of the Indian Knowledge System, most of the themes are centred on “Vedic/Aryan culture”. Sanskrit is given the dominant position. The contributions of Christianity and Islam are erased. The history and contributions of Buddhism, Jainism, and Sikhism are suppressed.

The syllabus is designed in such a way that instead of working towards national integration and promoting true knowledge, it is creating division. It is injecting suspicion among a large section of the people. It is alienating a majority of the people because they do not find their own history in the syllabus, reading materials, and textbooks. Non-Brahmin history is almost deleted, and they are nowhere to be seen.

Our rulers and administrators are fast implementing majoritarian agendas in every walk of life. Road names are being changed, and monuments are being renamed. The Islamic past and the contribution of Muslims are special targets. Minorities are attacked in the name of beef and the “holy” cow. They are the worst victims of mob lynching. The so-called liberal cities are also not safe for minorities. There too, students from minority communities and other weaker sections are attacked on different pretexts. Dalits and Muslims find it hard to get rooms or flats in savarna localities.

The lifestyles of minorities and weaker sections—their culture, their food habits—they are all being attacked.

Recently, I read a book. The name of the book is The Adivasi Will Not Dance. It is a collection of ten stories written by a Jharkhand-based doctor and author, Hansda Sowvendra Shekhar. The author is a Santhal Adivasi, and what is he saying in the book?

In one of his stories, he has narrated the story of an Adivasi family. The family was earlier working in Bhubaneswar, in Orissa. They were then transferred to Gujarat. They were asked to go to Vadodara.

The Adivasi family, when they landed in Gujarat, had difficulty finding a house on rent. Somehow, they got a house, but the landlord told the Adivasi family that they should not eat eggs, fish, and meat.

Facing cultural dominance, the Adivasi family secretly boiled eggs. They peeled them, wrapped the eggshells in a paper, and secretly went far away to throw them in the dustbin. The Adivasi family feared that somebody might notice that they were eating non-vegetarian food. They feared that they might be caught. They feared that they might be abused or beaten up.

This incident points to the majoritarian nature of Indian society. It is totally against the spirit, values, and laws of the Constitution.

Our Constitution has given us fundamental rights. Liberty is one of them. Whatever you want to eat, whatever religion you want to follow, you can marry anybody, the Constitution gives freedom to individuals. But in practice, what is happening? Our fundamental rights are being eroded by orders and laws enacted by the rulers. Even the food habits of minorities and other weaker sections are being demonised, and they are attacked in the name of the holy cow.

Since the dominant sections of society have political power, they are imposing their own food habits on the rest of the people. People from the north make laws without thinking deeply about the fact that those living outside the Hindi belt may have different food habits, lifestyles, and cultural practices. It is dangerous to national integration that the dominant sections are imposing their own food, dress, and rituals on the rest of the people.

The sad part is that majoritarianism is happening in the “largest” democracy of India.

It is to be kept in mind that majoritarianism is not confined to any social group or any region. For example, Hindus are dominant in one region and they are dominated in another region. Christians are dominated in one region, but they are dominant in other regions. Muslims are suppressed in one particular part of a region, and they suppress other communities in another region.

In brief, majoritarianism is a disease that has spread far and wide. It is becoming something like a pandemic, as it is found in both democratic and non-democratic societies.

As I have argued earlier, the challenge of majoritarianism is greater in a democratic system like ours because sometimes majoritarian forces appropriate democratic logic to suit their own interests.

While majoritarian groups have little regard for the rule of law, they spread the propaganda that it is the minorities who do not follow the Constitution and are guided by religious-based Sharia laws in opposition to secular and democratic values.

While the majority groups are least interested in initiating social reform movements within their own society to get rid of caste and gender-based discrimination, they are at the forefront of giving lip service to the rights of Muslim women and tarnishing the image of Muslim men as “patriarchal”, “cruel”, and “violent”. The right-wing groups that promote majoritarian thinking manipulate democratic and electoral processes to perpetuate their dominance and attack minority rights.

While we have a good Constitution, its laws are often not implemented in the true spirit. In fact, the processes are being tampered with to marginalise the weaker sections. Our leaders have no willpower. They are driven by petty interests.

The rulers want to remain in power at any cost. They are not following the spirit of the Constitution. They believe that India can only be strong when it is coloured in one religion, one language, and one race. In fact, this is the process of weakening India. This is not the process of strengthening India.

National integration can only happen when people from Arunachal Pradesh to Gujarat, from Kashmir to Kanyakumari, are given a share in power, if they are given representation, if they all come together to make laws, and if their food habits, their culture, and their religion are protected.

Without protecting minority rights, India will not become strong. But today, the terms “minority” and “minority rights” have been given a negative connotation under right-wing propaganda. The media, too, has become complicit in the anti-minority narrative. The values of diversity and pluralism are being attacked. Uniformity is being promoted as a desirable value.

But in both our social and natural worlds, we find that diversity is the reality. Around our surroundings, we find multiple varieties of flora and fauna.

That is why we need to learn from each and every community. Every community has something great to offer.

Humayun Kabir was the secretary of Maulana Azad, the first Education Minister of India. After Maulana Azad, Humayun Kabir also became the Education Minister of India. He wrote somewhere that a society which has people from different religions, different communities, different castes, and different social groups has more power and more strength to face challenges.

Take the example of cricket. If a team has only good batsmen, the team will not win the match because the team also needs good bowlers. Similarly, if a team has only good bowlers, who will score runs? If a team has only good fast bowlers, who will spin the ball? That is why a team which aims at winning the match needs all kinds of players. It must have diversity in the team.

Similarly, our ideals should be diversity and pluralism. Power-sharing and minority rights are integral parts of democracy. The bedrock of democracy is social justice and minority rights.

And in practice, what is happening? Majoritarianism, religious fundamentalism, communal violence, and discrimination are rampant.

So today, I argue that majoritarianism is one of the biggest challenges in the modern world. I put forth my hypothesis that it is a more serious challenge than deadly weapons because deadly weapons can destroy some buildings and can kill some human beings. But majoritarianism may destroy everything.

Majoritarian thinking may destroy society. It can create violence. It can give rise to hatred at the mass level. Majoritarianism is against humanity.

Some right-wingers say that giving minority rights is weakening the nation. I disagree with those people. Dr. B. R. Ambedkar has said at many places that caste Hindus are wrong to think that majority rule is sacred.

Babasaheb says that without the protection of minority rights, without safeguarding minority rights, democracy cannot be successful.

Let’s assume that your class has fifty students. Forty students want to eat chow mein, and ten students want to eat rice and curry.

If you apply democratic processes mechanically or in a vulgar manner, you will hold an election to decide the choice of food. In an election, forty students will definitely win by majority vote. It may be the case that the winners make a law that both at lunch and dinner, only chow mein will be served and everyone will have to eat it. But imposing the majority view on the minority through the electoral process is not democracy. In fact, this is majoritarianism.

A true democracy is one where minority rights are protected, where the will of forty people is not imposed on ten people. A true democracy is one where the minority’s views and interests are safeguarded.

It is very sad that minority rights are seen as a “threat” to the nation. Scholars advocating minority rights are seen as “anti-national”. But I differ with such a view.

Instead, I would argue that the social groups and organisations promoting majoritarianism and speaking against minority rights are, in fact, anti-national because they are weakening national integration by creating division in society.

Irrespective of what the right-wing propaganda is, India belongs to everybody. India belongs as much to the people of north India as it does to the residents of the southern and north-eastern states.

That is why the whole debate about “Indic” and “non-Indic” religions is nothing but an example of majoritarian thinking.

That is why I argue that Christianity is not alien. Nor is Hinduism indigenous.

Soon after the emergence of Christianity, churches were established in the coastal areas of India. The history of Christianity in India is over two thousand years old.

The history of Christianity in India cannot be tied to colonialism.

It may be true that some Christian missionaries might have come through colonial interventions. Some Christian missionaries might have been supporters of colonialism.

So what?

There were so many Hindus who supported the British Raj. There were so many Muslims who sided with the British Raj.

So, the very idea that an Indic religion is Hinduism and that Christianity is a foreign religion, or that Islam is the religion of the “invaders”, is a manifestation of majoritarianism. It is weakening national unity. It goes against the fundamental values of the Constitution. In brief, majoritarianism is against the values of liberty, equality, fraternity, and secularism.

V. D. Savarkar wrote the book Hindutva in the early 1920s. The book is mandatory reading in your Indian Political Thought course. In this book, Savarkar argued against the liberal and social notion of citizenship and created a social division based on religion through his fake theory that Hindus are patriotic because their religious places are located in India, while Christians and Muslims cannot be patriotic because their religious places are somewhere else, in Mecca or perhaps in Palestine or Jerusalem. Such a view is a manifestation of majoritarian thinking.

Savarkar was one of the major architects of the majoritarian narrative in India. I am afraid that majoritarianism has gained strength in recent years as his ideological supporters have assumed power at the national level.

If you go through the writings of right-wing thinkers in the colonial period, you will find that an aggressive current of Hindu nationalism promotes majoritarianism because they make the argument that Hindus and Hinduism is indigenous and minorities and their religions are foreign.

I think today we need to seriously conduct research and reading about the challenges to democracy posed by majoritarianism and the demonization of minority rights.

In this endeavour, the Department of Political Science can contribute. But it should be ready to learn from other disciplines such as history, sociology, literature, and anthropology. We, as intellectuals, need to learn from social and political activists as well, as they have first-hand knowledge. We all need to work collectively towards making this society, this country, and this world more egalitarian.

Before I conclude, let me make a quick reference to a book by the great Russian writer Leo Tolstoy. Leo Tolstoy was a great disciple of Jesus Christ, and in the book, he said that only principle in this world is love. According to him, love is the only principle through which we can bring humanity together. Love is the only principle that is the bedrock of humanity. Violence has no place in the spirit of love.

So, I would like to conclude with what Tolstoy has said about love. He said that the message of love was given by all the prophets. With the spirit of love, we need to work to promote humanity, brotherhood, and sisterhood.

We need to work hard to ensure that the democratic rights enshrined in our Constitution are implemented on the ground, and that minorities, weaker sections, and marginalized communities are given their due rights.

And all those who have become self-appointed guardians of the country, who are promoting majoritarianism, must be challenged. But our struggles should always be democratic and guided by the true spirit of love.

This is how we can make India stronger.

 [This is an excerpt from the speech delivered online by the author, to the students of St. Joseph University, Dimapur, Nagaland, on October 5, 2026. It has been slightly edited for clarity and flow.]

Related:

Why are reading habits among Indian students declining?

Understanding power through caste: Dr. Ambedkar’s contribution to the sociology of law

My Ambedkar is a leftist Ambedkar

The post Why Majoritarianism today is the single most acute threat to democracy appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Let me first clarify that I am not making a value judgement here. Nor am I pushing forward an argument that students of yesterday were avid readers, while students of the present time are an anti-knowledge lot.

To make such a sweeping generalisation, one would need to conduct a scientific study and take into consideration multiple factors. On the occasion of Teachers’ Day, I simply want to share my own experience—something that has been troubling my mind.

One of the first major signs of the decline of reading culture is the disappearance of shops and stalls selling books, magazines, and newspapers. Even the Xerox shops around colleges and universities are now busy printing and photocopying documents to be submitted to the administration, rather than essays, articles, or relevant portions of books and magazines.

Even newspaper hawkers are hardly visible, not only around colleges in semi-rural areas but also at those located in district headquarters and cities. Around college and university campuses, what one mostly sees is the mushrooming growth of fast-food kiosks. Since the administrations are often unable to run the canteens properly, students have little choice but to go outside and eat junk food.

Inside the campus, library culture is also on the decline. One of the main reasons for this is the lack of library staff. Most of the library staff are contractual workers who are poorly paid. As a result, they often do not work there with a sense of commitment. Even among those who are working, many are not trained in library science. Nor are they sensitized to the needs of readers. The reading hall is also poorly maintained. The seating arrangements and lighting are inadequate. The books are not properly arranged, making it difficult for readers to access them.

However, the growing corruption within the publishing world has also infected our campuses. As a result, a large portion of the books purchased in recent years are simply garbage. Even in the journal sections, substandard journals are purchased while quality journals are often ignored. Everywhere, there are cuts in the budget, and even when money is spent, it is rarely spent on the welfare of students or the promotion of genuine academic activity.

The administration is happy to display this garbage on the shelves of the library in return for hefty kickbacks, while caring little about valuable books that are damaged by pests or due to neglect.

I do not know much about the complex rules and norms that determine how colleges and universities are ranked among the top institutes by government agencies. But my yardstick for judging whether a college or university is academically vibrant is very simple. Whenever I visit a new academic institution, I first try to visit its library because a well-attended library is a sign of a healthy academic environment.

While no bhajan (devotion) is possible without bhojan (food), I next visit the canteen inside the academic premises. A canteen not only provides food but also creates a space for interaction, debate, and discussion. I am sad to say that most universities and colleges cannot boast of having such a happening place. If there are a few such eateries, they are highly commercialised, serving mostly fast food. While the food may be ‘hot’ and ‘spicy’, the public culture there is dull and lifeless.

The shrinking democratic space is no less responsible for the declining reading culture. The administration is becoming more authoritarian day by day. The regime of security and surveillance is intensifying with each passing day. Even teachers often maintain a sense of superiority. Most teachers favour students who act meekly before them, touch their feet, and flatter them at every opportunity.

The caste network is also deeply pernicious on campuses. It is not a coincidence that the students or research scholars favoured by a teacher are often those who belong to his caste. While our teachers project themselves as the biggest “patriots” in public life, in their personal lives they often indulge in what can only be described as anti-national behaviour by practising caste-based discrimination.

Worse still, our educational campuses are not adequately sensitised to the needs and concerns of female students, religious minorities, and differently-abled people. The syllabus has been framed to glorify the past rather than to meet the needs of students in the present. Students from marginalised sections often find it difficult to relate to the course structure and feel alienated from the academic environment. The rise of majoritarianism and intolerance, along with the display of religiosity on campuses, has further alienated minorities.

Discussions and jokes in staff rooms and classrooms are often anti-women. The rampant misogyny prevalent on campuses makes women feel unsafe. Parents, too, often seize this opportunity to further control the freedom of their daughters.

The lack of student activism and the disappearance of debating and seminar culture are among the major reasons why students do not feel motivated to read. Often, student organisations are banned on campuses by the administration on the grounds that they are involved in violence. It is true that some student bodies have been involved in violent activities, and no one is arguing that they should not be held accountable for their misdeeds. But one also needs to recognise that banning student politics is not the solution to violence. Even elections are sometimes marred by violence, but no one argues that elections should be abolished.

Even the seminars held within campuses often fail to achieve their intended purpose. This has much to do with the relationship between funding agencies and the ideologies they seek to impose on the organisers. Seminars have now turned into occasions to facilitate politicians in power and echo the political lines of the establishment, without critically examining whether such policies are indeed framed in the public interest or merely serve vested interests. Since students and researchers are required to produce certificates of participation, they are often more concerned with obtaining the certificate and filling the chairs in the audience than with participating in any meaningful and fruitful discussion.

It is not only the academic spaces that are responsible; parents, too, often impose their own will on their children. We hardly find parents who facilitate their children in pursuing the goals of their choice. Most are in a hurry to see their children settle into high-salaried and secure jobs. Both at home and in our society, a person is often judged “successful” on the basis of how much wealth they have amassed, how trendy their clothes are, and how luxurious a car they drive.

The anti-intellectual environment at homes get extended into our academic spaces. The teachers hardly read. They have forgotten that a good teacher is the one who is first a student. The advancement in career is the bigger concern for the teachers rather than acting as the source of knowledge. They hardly speak on the pressing political issues because they want to remain in the good book of the establishment.

Even if our Constitution gives every citizen the fundamental right to freedom of speech, and the highest court of the country has held that dissent and criticism are integral parts of democracy, a large section of teachers have imposed self-censorship on themselves. They write only when they need papers for promotion, and most of these papers are poorly written and make little sense. Yet they get published as “research papers” because the authors pay publishers huge amounts of money.

Even in the staff room, teachers hardly discuss academic issues. The favourite gossip among male teachers is often about the clothes of their female colleagues, accompanied by rumours about their personal lives and sexual relationships. Worse still, many teachers are excessively flattering towards their seniors while being rude and dismissive towards their students.

All these factors contribute negatively to the lives of our young students. The smarter among them have come to realise that knowledge is not the first criterion for getting jobs in academia. That is why they spend a large amount of their energy flattering their teachers and developing networks with those in the administration and politics. Sensing that joining the political outfits of the ruling party is a more secure way of getting jobs, they are often too busy attending sectarian political programmes rather than spending time in the classroom and library.

Since a large number of students hardly read, they are unable to write. Whenever they turn up to submit their assignments, their writings are often copied and pasted from the internet. These are some of the more disturbing trends that I have noticed while working as a teacher. I do not know how these issues can be addressed. But if India has to excel in the field of knowledge and ensure that its democracy remains meaningful, policymakers cannot afford to ignore these questions.

(Dr Abhay Kumar teaches Political Science. His recently published book is Muslim Personal Law: Definitions, Sources and Contestations (Manohar, 2026). Email: debatingissues@gmail.com)

The post Why are reading habits among Indian students declining? appeared first on SabrangIndia.

His speech in the Constituent Assembly is significant because it forcefully argues that a good constitution cannot function well if it is handled by bad people. Similarly, even a bad constitution can yield good results if it is used by good people.

In other words, much more than formal rules and procedures, the social location, interests, and intentions of those who interpret or implement them are important—a point which is often missed by liberal scholars but not by Dr. Ambedkar.

The first meeting of the Constituent Assembly, with the aim of drafting the Constitution, was held on December 9, 1946, and it continued to function for around three years, with B. R. Ambedkar, as Chairman of the Drafting Committee, bearing a major share of the responsibility. When the work of drafting the Constitution was completed, Dr. Ambedkar delivered his closing speech on November 25, 1949, a day before the Constitution was formally adopted. November 26 was later celebrated as Constitution Day to mark this historic event.

Giving his closing speech in the Constituent Assembly, Babasaheb put it: “… however good a Constitution may be, it is sure to turn out bad because those who are called to work it, happen to be a bad lot. However bad a Constitution may be, it may turn out to be good if those who are called to work it, happen to be a good lot. The working of a Constitution does not depend wholly upon the nature of the Constitution.”

In his speech, Dr. Ambedkar argued that rules, laws, or the Constitution are not sufficient in themselves, nor do they guarantee justice, however well they may be framed. Beyond the law, the persons who interpret and implement it are the critical factor.

In the context of the Constitution, Ambedkar takes a critical sociological view and said that mere having good rules are not enough, if the person interpreting or implanting it has a bad intention. His argument is directly linked with his political movement to fight for the proportionate and effective representation for Dalits and other marginalised castes and communities.

The opponents of affirmative action, including reservation, often invoke the logic of meritocracy. However, anti-reservationists are not willing to accept the fact that merit is often defined through caste interests.

For example, the skills acquired by rich, upper-caste males are taken as the benchmark and imposed on the rest of society, ignoring the geographical, cultural, and linguistic diversity of the country, as well as the social and economic backgrounds of the people. Unlike such Brahminical logic, B. R. Ambedkar argued for bringing every caste and community within the process of decision-making so that they could not only make laws but also interpret and implement them in their own interests.

Dr. Ambedkar was of the view that if power is not shared and remains concentrated in a few hands, the interests of marginalised castes and communities are bound to be compromised. The same logic extends to the field of law, where mere formal rules cannot ensure justice for marginalised castes; rather, they must be in a position to interpret and implement them to ensure justice in society.

To illustrate B. R. Ambedkar’s argument, let us take the analogy of a car. A new car is not a guarantee of safe driving if it is handled carelessly. Conversely, even if a car has some technical faults, there is a greater chance that the journey will be safe if the driver is experienced and careful. In the context of law, Ambedkar is not merely satisfied with having a good constitution; rather, he is concerned about the misuse of a good constitution in the hands of bad people. But even if the constitution is not perfect, if those implementing it have good intentions, there is a greater possibility of bringing about justice in society.

Although Dr. Ambedkar, in his speech, disagreed with the Indian communists and socialists over their “condemnation” of the Constitution, Babasaheb’s sociological understanding of law comes very close to the Marxist critique of law. While liberal jurisprudence emphasizes rules and procedures and the idea of providing a level playing field to everyone seeking justice in a court of law, Marxist philosophers foreground the political dimension of law. Radicals argue that, in the absence of a genuine level playing field in society—where a few monopolise wealth and shape culture, religion, and other institutions to perpetuate their dominance—the judiciary and law cannot remain neutral zones of freedom and rational deliberation.

While the class character of society is central to Marxist thinking, it does not get displaced in Dr. Ambedkar’s analysis. While Ambedkar was a firm supporter of state socialism and of the state taking greater responsibility for people’s welfare, he strongly disagreed with the communists over their support for the “dictatorship of the proletariat.” Dr. Ambedkar, on the other hand, was a strong advocate of bringing about equality and reconstructing an egalitarian order through democratic and constitutional means.

Having acknowledged these differences, Ambedkarite scholars and Marxists converge on the point that, unlike liberal scholars, they do not ignore the social reality and deep-seated inequalities that exist beyond the formal and legal structures of the state. While class and property relations are central to classical Marxist analysis, Dr. Ambedkar’s primary focus is on the caste-based graded inequality of Indian society. While Dr. Ambedkar does not ignore class contradictions in society, he, unlike Marxist scholars, explains class inequality through a caste-based analysis.

Since caste-based inequality remains deeply entrenched in society and the post-Independence state did not go much beyond providing formal equality to the lower castes and other marginalised communities, Dr. Ambedkar was acutely aware of the continuing presence of upper-caste hegemony from society to politics and from culture to the economy. That is why he was concerned that a good law in itself is not a guarantee of justice unless marginalised castes and communities are in a position to interpret and implement it in their own interests. These sociological insights of Dr. Ambedkar are crucial not only for understanding our judicial system but also for analysing other institutions of the state.

[The author is the author of the recently published book Muslim Personal Law: Definitions, Sources and Contestations (Manohar, 2026).]

Related:

Caste Shadow on Ambedkar Jayanti: From campus censorship to temple exclusion

On his 135th birth anniversary, we ask, would Ambedkar be allowed free speech in India today?

A principled PM, a determined law minister: Nehru, Ambedkar & Opposition in Indian Politics

The post Understanding power through caste: Dr. Ambedkar’s contribution to the sociology of law appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The media reported that Indian captain Surya Kumar Yadav, head coach Gautam Gambhir, and ICC Chairman Jay Shah visited a Hanuman temple in Ahmedabad soon after the victory celebrations. News agency ANI posted a short video on Twitter in which the skipper is seen entering the temple while holding the trophy.

Surya, along with Gambhir and Shah, went to the temple and offered prayers. The foreheads of Surya and Shah were marked with a tika (a vermilion mark), which Hindu devotees usually apply on their foreheads while visiting a temple. They also received prasad (blessed food) after offering their prayers.

Do Hindus not have the right to visit a temple? If they do, then why am I raising an issue about it? Let me clarify that I am not asking Hindus, Muslims, or people of any faith to give up their religious beliefs. Nor am I suggesting that one should not visit temples or mosques, or refrain from performing religious rituals. In fact, I have often accompanied my family members to temples and even purchased flowers and prasad for them. Just as I have respected their faith, they have never imposed their particular ways of performing rituals upon me. Should not an individual be left alone to reflect on questions of faith?

As a student of political science, I am aware that religious freedom lies at the core of the Indian Constitution. Citizens are free to profess any religion of their choice. The state has no business interfering in the personal beliefs of an individual. The freedom to practise a religion of one’s choice, to give it up and embrace another faith, or not to practise any religion at all, is guaranteed under the Fundamental Rights.

Going by these constitutional provisions, one may argue that Surya, Shah and Gambhir went to the temple as part of their personal faith. Therefore, I may be accused of finding fault with them and, by doing so, revealing my “Hindu-phobic” mind-set.

In my defence, I would first state that criticising the mixing of religion and politics is not an act of being a “Hindu-phobic”. My argument here is not to oppose any religion—be it Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, etc.—but to highlight the threat that religious nationalism and majoritarianism pose to a democratic polity.

Majoritarian politics often hides itself under the garb of nationalism, religiosity, and popular culture. The shrewdness of right-wing leaders lies in their ability to promote religious nationalism through sports, festivals, songs, films, and public celebrations. None other than Dr. B. R. Ambedkar, the messiah of the downtrodden and the Chairman of the Drafting Committee of the Constitution of India, cautioned the people against the danger of religious nationalism when he said: “If Hindu Raj does become a fact, it will, no doubt, be the greatest calamity for this country.”

When cricket, the most popular sport among more than a billion Indians, is used as a tool to promote religious nationalism, one has to take it very seriously. If Surya, Gambhir, and Shah had visited the Hanuman Temple as devotees of Hanuman, they would have gone there simply as devotees and not as celebrities. There would have been no triumphal images been circulated. The difference between ordinary devotees visiting a religious place and celebrities rushing to a temple is significant. Devotees keep their faith at a personal level. Celebrities, however, often perform such acts in the presence of cameras and PR teams, turning a private expression of faith into a public spectacle.

While devotees perform religious rituals as part of their faith and sincerely believe in what they do, celebrities often visit religious places to serve their political interests. They know very well that their interests are best served if they publicly display their acts of performing pooja. Politicians, a smart group among celebrities, often begin their electoral campaigns by visiting temples. They also ensure that their visits to temples are circulated to every household through news stories, photographs, videos, and other media.

In a representative democracy, where governments are often formed through majority votes, there is a strong tendency among politicians to equate the majority religion with the “national” one and even with a “way of life”. In contrast, even a minor display of the religious or cultural symbols of minority communities is often demonised as the rise of “fundamentalism”. Even those who work for the human rights of minorities and show solidarity with their culture—often suppressed under the weight of majoritarianism—are branded as “anti-Hindu.

That is why, there is a strong case to argue that the temple visit of Indian captain, coach and ICC chairman is not simply a matter of personal faith. In fact, it is a case of using popular sport indirectly to reinforce the politics of religious majoritarianism. Since cricketers are one of the biggest icons for the youth of the country, their visit to temple and the viral video afterwards seemed to be carefully planned to equate the national cricket team of secular and democratic republic with “Hindu” India.

The temple visit incident should also not be seen as an isolated event. Over the years, the process of mixing religion and cricket has intensified. Some cricket fans who go to the stadium to cheer for Team India often chant aggressive nationalist slogans and display overt religious symbols. Some of them even pass inappropriate comments on the supporters of the opposing team and sometimes get into fights with them.

Even TV commentators, particularly those in the vernacular broadcasts, frequently use highly jingoistic and sometimes misogynistic idioms. It is beyond comprehension why English commentary tends to remain relatively measured, while vernacular commentaries often turn into acts of shouting and whipping up passion. Worse still, social media influencers, as well as some former cricketers-turned-commentators, do not miss an opportunity to indulge in Pakistan-bashing. While their criticism may be directed at “the poor performance” of Pakistani cricket, their choice of words and tone often ends up feeding communal polarisation.

A quick look at the official jersey of the Indian cricket team reveals the prominent use of the colour, saffron. Is this selection arbitrary, or is it part of a careful design? As a cricket fan, I remember the older Indian jerseys where the tricolour was prominently represented on the T-shirt. Should this shift in the choice of colour be seen as merely random, or does it reflect a deliberate change—and perhaps even a shift in the political equation?

These trends are dangerous at least for two reasons.

First, the instrumental use of cricket to promote religious nationalism has the potential to weaken national unity. We should never forget that the Indian team as well as Indian supporters do not belong to one religion. Those who believe that the temple visit by the Indian captain, coach, and ICC chairman is a normal act should also reflect on how such gestures appear to millions of citizens who belong to different faiths.

Those who think that Surya’s visit to the temple is a “normal” matter should also ask themselves whether they would consider it equally normal if, instead of Surya, a Muslim cricketer had been the captain of India and, after winning the match, had gone straight to a mosque with the trophy and the video of it had gone viral.

Pakistani cricketers are often seen invoking religious expressions while speaking to commentators before or after a match. However, the example of Pakistan may not be appropriate for India, as our Constitution envisions a secular polity. In a multicultural society like India, the state itself has no religion, nor should public institutions be used to promote any particular faith.

Indian cricket is watched by millions of people, and the cricket board should ensure that it maintains the image of a secular institution and remains free from political pressure. As the Chairman of the ICC, Jay Shah carries the hopes of cricket fans around the world. They expect him to work for the promotion of cricket globally and to allow the BCCI to independently carry out the responsibility of managing Indian cricket.

(The author is has recently published book, Muslim Personal Law: Definitions, Sources and Contestations (Manohar, 2026). Email: debatingissues@gmail.com)

Related:

Sikh cricket player dubbed “Khalistani” for dropping catch

Love cricket? Make sure you celebrate only when Team India wins!

Baby bowls over India, Pakistan cricket teams

The post Why Cricket should remain above religious nationalism appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Surprisingly, I vividly remember that the story of Nathuram Godse, the assassin of Gandhi, was narrated to us by a Brahmin teacher in my village. What struck me even more was the tone of his narration—it seemed to express a subtle sympathy for the killer of Bapu. Yet, that same teacher never took the time to tell us who Babasaheb Ambedkar was.

The entry of Dr. Ambedkar into my life came quite late. I cannot say exactly when I first heard his name, but my real engagement with his work began when I enrolled in a postgraduate programme in Political Science in Delhi.

Traditional Political Science syllabi gave very little space to Ambedkar’s ideas, although they readily imposed the political thoughts of Manu and Kautilya—both of whom were staunch upholders of the caste-based social order—on students. If someone wants to pursue research on Manu, they are free to do so. But I am still unable to understand the rationale behind compelling every student to study Manu at the undergraduate or postgraduate level in a course on Indian political thought.

It may be understandable that M. S. Golwalkar, one of the key ideologues of the Hindutva ideology, praised Manu as “Lord (Bhagwan)” and called him as “the greatest lawgiver of mankind.” However, the disproportionate space assigned to Manu in political science textbooks raises serious questions about the fragility of the secular character of India’s educational system. That Ambedkar—one of the staunchest critics of the caste-based social order and a vocal opponent of “Hindu Raj”—has remained neglected in the mainstream educational system and media should not come as a surprise to many.

My stay at Delhi’s two universities over a span of 11 years—two years at Jamia Millia Islamia and nine years at Jawaharlal Nehru University—brought me significantly closer to the thoughts and legacy of Babasaheb Ambedkar. In the classroom, our professors did make references to Ambedkar’s ideas, but I found myself unsatisfied with the way they interpreted and explained his work. I noticed that they had a vested interest in highlighting only certain aspects of Ambedkar while concealing others. The professors soon lost their influence over us when many of us realized that their discussions of Ambedkar inside the classroom and their actions outside were quite disconnected. For them, teaching Ambedkar, writing about him, publishing books, and getting projects in his name seemed more like career-building strategies. For many of us, however, Ambedkar was a ray of light—an inspiration to escape the darkness of an unequal social order. I began to look beyond the classroom and found that engaging with Ambedkarite activist-scholars at the university and those actively involved in Ambedkarite movements was far more fruitful than simply taking notes from careerist professors.

Since Ambedkar wrote in lucid prose, he was not particularly difficult to understand. Unlike many other politicians, he never neglected the importance of scholarship. He read, researched, and wrote until his last breath. The focus of his scholarship was not on fairy tales, nor was he interested in metaphysical or divine questions. As an organic intellectual, he wrote about the problems faced by the most marginalized sections of society—people whom the caste-based system did not even consider human, let alone treat as equals. Ambedkar’s writings, spread across thousands of pages, continue to serve as a torchlight for marginalized communities. Those who uphold the status quo are trying hard to appropriate Ambedkar, but they cannot bury the power and truth of his dozens of volumes of writings.

But unlike armchair scholars confined to the ivory towers of the establishment, Ambedkar believed that the process of thinking is intrinsically linked to action. In contrast to the so-called “objective” scholarship of the mainstream, his writings had a clear purpose and stood firmly with the downtrodden. He recognized that the cloak of “objectivity” and “neutrality” often serves to maintain the status quo and reinforces existing hegemonies. That is why he not only wrote but also acted. He agitated, and he penned. In Ambedkar’s philosophy, the process of thought and action-oriented programmes are inseparable. He was truly a “concerned” scholar and an organic politician.

In my understanding, Ambedkar belongs to the tradition of materialist-rationalist thoughts shaped by Buddhism, Kabir, and Jyotirao Phule. Consequently, he was deeply critical of metaphysical, idealist, Vedantic, and Brahminical frameworks for interpreting the world. Unlike Brahminical thinkers, Ambedkar did not shy away from confronting material reality. Nor did he resort to explaining concrete problems through metaphysical abstractions or the construction of myths. In contrast to the Brahminical scholarly tradition, he categorically rejected the notion of divinity and the role of supernatural beings.

Although he acknowledged the social significance of religion, his conception of it was radically different—his vision of religion excluded the presence of God. For Ambedkar, religion was not about ritual performance or appeasing a higher power; rather, it was a social space where marginalized communities could assert their dignity and forge collective solidarity.

In essence, Ambedkar deconstructed Brahminical myths and laid the groundwork for a new social order rooted in the ideals of equality, liberty, and fraternity. Throughout his life, he remained deeply uneasy with the idea of human beings surrendering—whether to divine forces or to fellow humans. For him, both the worship of gods and the veneration of heroic figures were equally unacceptable.

Ambedkar was a staunch advocate of equality in the political, social, and economic domains. Continuing the legacy of Buddha, Kabir, and Phule, he offered a scathing critique of the caste-based social order. As an iconoclast, he denounced the religion into which he was born and criticized the Hindu social order and its religious texts for perpetuating caste-based discrimination.

Since most of us are raised within a Brahminical social milieu, we are trained from childhood to perceive the caste hierarchy as “natural” and the prevailing social system as one that fosters “harmony” and “equilibrium.” From structural-functionalist scholars to most upper-caste leaders and intellectuals, there has long been a tendency to normalize and defend the caste order. However, the emergence of Dr. Ambedkar on the broader political stage began to challenge this entrenched narrative. His powerful call for the annihilation of the caste system resonated with millions who had long been treated as pariahs by the upper castes.

Ambedkar’s enduring contribution lies in his ability, much like a skilled doctor, to diagnose the deep-seated stagnation of Indian society. He prescribed a clear remedy: without the annihilation of caste, the achievement of political, social, and economic equality, and justice for women and minorities, the nation cannot truly progress.

While it is true that the mainstream Indian Left—whose leadership has largely been dominated by Brahmins and other upper castes—ignored Dr. Ambedkar and excluded Dalit leadership until the Ambedkarite movement brought him into public consciousness, this should not be used to validate the Hindutva narrative that portrays Ambedkar as an “enemy” of Marxism or socialism. Marxism and socialism are not monolithic ideologies; they are interpreted and shaped by prevailing parties or dominant leaders, and thus, no single definition is universally accepted. What matters is that Ambedkar engaged with Marxism on his own terms, expressing both agreement and disagreement with its dominant interpretations during his time.

Given that Marxism is a materialist philosophy that advocates for the removal of class-based inequality and the establishment of material equality, Ambedkar’s own work resonates strongly with Marxist principles. His efforts to organize the working class, his emphasis on eradicating economic inequality, and his commitment to a materialist, scientific, and rational worldview align him closely with Marxist ideals and practice.

However, Dr. Ambedkar differed from the dominant Marxist interpretation on the questions of class, the dictatorship of the proletariat, and the use of violence. Unlike mainstream Marxist thinkers, Ambedkar’s understanding of class emphasized the social identities of labourers and rejected the notion of the working class as a homogenous entity. His key contribution lay in highlighting the lack of solidarity among workers, despite their shared exploitation.

While Marxists called for unity among labourers, Ambedkar insisted that unity could not be achieved without first addressing the internal divisions created by caste. Upper-caste comrades were often eager to bring about revolution, overlooking the fundamental reality that caste—structured around graded inequality—stood in the way of genuine worker solidarity. Ambedkar argued that caste must first be annihilated to lay the foundation for a truly classless society. This view diverged sharply from that of upper-caste Marxists, who often saw the caste question as a distraction or even a threat to working-class unity. The mainstream Left’s continued failure to enact meaningful social transformation should prompt a serious re-examination of Ambedkar’s nuanced perspective on class and caste.

No doubt Ambedkar was a great scholar, a brilliant lawyer, and an influential Parliamentarian. The construction of his image as a legal scholar holding the Constitution of India has created the impression that Ambedkar only believed in legal and constitutional methods, and therefore, had no ideological connection with Marxists, who are often associated with violent means. To support such a claim, Ambedkar’s famous speech titled “Buddha or Karl Marx” is frequently cited.

It is true that Ambedkar acknowledged that both Buddhism and Marxism opposed private property. However, according to him, Buddhism diverged from Marxism on the question of violence. Ambedkar emphasized that Buddhism, unlike Marxism, rejected violence. That said, his critique of Marxism in this regard must be situated within the historical context of his time. It is a matter of historical record that some communist leaders, backed by the brute force of the state, resorted to violence in their attempt to establish a “class-less” society.

Supporters of such violent methods might argue that radical social change and reordering of class relations cannot be accomplished through purely constitutional and legal means, and that violence by the oppressed is not a violation but an act of liberation. While Ambedkar may have agreed with the goal of achieving a class-less society, he preferred to pursue a different strategy—one that did not involve violence. This belief was deeply held and unwavering, despite criticism from the Left, who at times dismissed Ambedkar as “at best a radical bourgeois leader.”

Ambedkar and his critics held different perspectives on these issues. However, the failures of various communist regimes—though not of Marxism as a philosophy—have led even some of his critics to reconsider his principled critique of violence. Importantly, Ambedkar’s rejection of violence does not imply a lack of belief in peaceful yet radical movements. His famous call to “educate, organise, and agitate” reflects a commitment to constitutional and legal methods, but not a confinement to them.

Consider the historic Mahad Conference of 1927, where Ambedkar led thousands of untouchables to assert their right to access a public tank that had been denied to them by caste-based restrictions. During this agitation, upper-caste aggressors attacked Ambedkar and his followers, yet he stood his ground. His editorials in Bahishkrit Bharat are a testament to his unwavering message urging Dalits not to accept caste discrimination and to rise in rebellion. In one editorial dated May 20, 1927, Ambedkar clearly stated that no one would grant Dalits their rights out of charity—they had to be prepared to fight for them. Is this not strong evidence that Ambedkar was far more than merely a legal scholar? His call to struggle against discrimination and exploitation, and his insistence on securing a life of dignity, align him with mass movements—and place him ideologically close to the Left.

However, one of my biggest attractions to Babasaheb Ambedkar is his theory of minority rights, which is inherently linked to the broader concept of social justice. In light of the rise of right-wing forces in India and elsewhere, Ambedkar’s ideas have become even more relevant today. As previously mentioned, Ambedkar was a staunch opponent of any dictatorial or authoritarian regime. He understood well that the suppression of liberty is often justified in the name of lofty goals, and he consistently cautioned marginalized communities not to fall prey to such narratives.

With the advent of democracy and the introduction of universal suffrage, Ambedkar recognized the transformative potential of the right to vote for bringing about social change. However, he did not believe that formal political equality alone was sufficient to ensure justice and equality in society. He argued that social reform, economic equality, and robust safeguards for minority rights were essential complements to political democracy. In other words, while equal voting rights represent a significant achievement, they are only truly effective when accompanied by social and economic justice, along with institutional protections for minorities.

Ambedkar frequently cautioned that democracy as an institution can only survive when social and economic equality is achieved. While he did not believe in using violent methods to bring about radical change, he also disagreed with liberals who believed that formal equality and a market-driven economic order would eventually lead to a just society. In various writings and speeches, Ambedkar highlighted the threat that class-based inequality poses to the sustainability of democracy.

Today, economic inequality in India has increased significantly compared to Ambedkar’s time. The ongoing crisis of Indian democracy and rising societal instability can largely be attributed to this widening economic gap. If Ambedkar were alive today, his foremost agenda would likely include launching mass movements for full employment, equitable access to quality public education, and comprehensive healthcare for all. He would also have been at the forefront of resisting reactionary and conservative forces that disguise themselves as nationalist. He would have strongly opposed the conflation of religion and politics, and any attempts to align the Indian state with the majority religion. No one denounced Hindu nationalism as forcefully as Ambedkar, who called it “the greatest calamity for this country.” Undoubtedly, he would have aligned himself with the Left.

Ambedkar’s democratic theory and his idea of social justice are closely linked with his concept of minority rights. He opposed authoritarianism and dictatorial regimes because he believed that one person, one party, one caste group, or one class cannot be entrusted with safeguarding the interests of all. He was acutely aware of the fact that ruling castes often attempt to serve their own interests under the guise of “nationalism,” dismissing the legitimate concerns of marginalised communities as “communalism.”

Perhaps he was among the first to expose the trope of nationalism versus communalism as a tool to silence the voices of the oppressed. His critique of nationalism does not imply support for communal politics. Rather, Ambedkar demonstrated how the category of nationalism has been co-opted by sections of the upper castes to present their own interests as “national interests”, while branding those who question this dominance as “communal.”

Ambedkar has also been unfairly accused of being a supporter of British imperialism. However, the historical reality is that he was not against India’s freedom. While the upper castes considered the mere transfer of power from British rulers to Indian elites as the attainment of Swaraj, Ambedkar pressed nationalist leaders to explicitly define the rights and safeguards that minorities would receive in post-Independence India. These upper-caste leaders often appeared “radical” in their political critique of British rule but remained deeply conservative and status quoist when issues concerning Dalits, Adivasis, lower castes, and religious minorities were raised.

Ambedkar’s critique of Indian nationalism stemmed from a commitment to social justice. Throughout the freedom struggle, he consistently raised the issue of caste-based inequality and worked to amplify the voices of the marginalised. He firmly believed that caste-based social order was a significant obstacle to fostering fraternity among Indians. Without addressing the caste question, he argued, the process of nation-building could not be complete.

In contrast, upper-caste leaders and their allies in the Hindutva camp often promoted an ascriptive theory of nationalism, asserting that the idea of the Indian nation has existed for thousands of years. In tracing the nation back to ancient times, Hindu right-wing ideologues positioned the Hindu community as the authentic nation and cast minorities and non-Hindus as outsiders. Since the minorities were not considered fully part of the Hindu nation, their patriotism was constantly questioned. As a display of loyalty, the Hindu right demanded that minorities abandon their distinct identities and assimilate into the dominant culture in order to receive validation as true patriots. Ambedkar was acutely aware of the dangers posed by religious and communal interpretations of nationalism and citizenship. That is why, he opposed strongly communal majority. That is why he strongly opposed attempts by upper-caste Hindus to forge a communal majority.

For Ambedkar, the antidote to the politics of communal majoritarianism—which posed a serious threat during his time and continues to endanger India’s social fabric—was the establishment of mechanisms to check authoritarian tendencies and institutionalize safeguards for minorities. One of the greatest threats to democracy, in his view, was the concentration of power. In other words, Ambedkar was a strong opponent of absolute power and an ardent advocate of power-sharing among communities.

As a true democrat, Ambedkar was disheartened by the suppression of opposition voices during Nehru’s regime. While numerous books celebrate Nehru’s democratic credentials and openness to dissent, little attention is paid to the fact that he dismissed the first democratically elected communist government in Kerala, played a key role in the centralization of power, and presided over a Parliament that lacked an official Leader of the Opposition until 1967—during the peak of the Congress system. Ambedkar himself noted that he was not granted his ministry of choice in Nehru’s cabinet, even as some ministers were assigned multiple portfolios. Today, under BJP rule, the marginalization of opposition voices and the stifling of dissent has intensified manifold. That is why Ambedkar’s unwavering commitment to defending dissent and opposition remains profoundly relevant in today’s political climate. Ambedkar’s critique of hero-worship also offers a powerful lens through which to understand the rise of populist right-wing leaders. We still await a critical analysis of Narendra Modi’s rise through the lens of Ambedkar’s political thought.

Ambedkar was deeply pained to witness the Congress Party using its own Dalit leaders to silence him whenever he raised his voice. Today, the BJP has perfected the art of delegitimizing authentic Dalit leadership by grooming its own representatives through the ideological apparatus of the Hindutva laboratory. Consequently, while Dalits are now nearly proportionally represented in legislative bodies, most of these leaders—elected through joint electorates and reliant on their party’s backing—tend to remain silent or toe the party line on critical issues affecting their communities.

It is important to remember that Ambedkar strongly demanded a separate electorate for the Depressed Classes during the Round Table Conference, a demand that the British Government ultimately granted. However, he was compelled to give it up following Gandhi’s fast. He observed that authentic Dalit voices often struggle to garner support from both mainstream political parties and caste Hindu voters, resulting in their continued marginalization.

It is unfortunate that most mainstream scholars of India’s electoral system rarely acknowledge the structural inequality inherent in the first-past-the-post system. There is little advocacy for proportionate and effective minority representation, a demand that Dr. Ambedkar passionately championed. While many European countries have embraced proportional representation for minorities, Indian intellectuals often take pride in pointing out the shortcomings of other nations rather than engaging in introspection and learning from successful democratic models to advocate for reform at home.

While Ambedkar contributed significantly to the shaping of democracy, the safeguards for the interests and rights of minorities were especially close to his heart. It is important to note that the term minority, for Ambedkar, was not confined to religious minorities alone. He defined minorities broadly to include socially discriminated groups. According to Ambedkar, the category of minority applies not only to religious communities such as Muslims, Christians, Sikhs, Buddhists, Jains, and Parsis, but also to Dalits and Adivasis.

Several political scientists have later classified minorities into types such as religious, linguistic, caste-based, and tribal (Adivasi) minorities. Ambedkar believed that the true measure of a successful democracy lies in how well it protects the interests and rights of its minorities. He was acutely aware that, in a democratic polity, governments are formed based on majority support—meaning that minorities are often excluded from power. To address this structural inequality, Ambedkar warned against the creation of a communal majority.

Today, the danger Babasaheb foresaw has become increasingly apparent. The deliberate strategy of stoking communal tensions and demonizing the Muslim minority as the “other” in Indian society is designed to unite the majority community through a shared religious identity and thereby forge a communal majority. From Ambedkar’s perspective, the formation of a communal majority is anathema to democracy, as it inevitably leads to the suppression of minority rights.

Keeping in view these dangers, Ambedkar clearly stated that a government formed through majority rule should not be regarded as holy or sacrosanct. Speaking at the Annual Session of the All-India Scheduled Castes Federation held in Bombay on May 6, 1945, Ambedkar said, “Majority Rule is untenable in theory and unjustifiable in practice. A majority community may be conceded a relative majority of representation but it can never claim an absolute majority.”

In simple terms, Ambedkar argued that while the formation of a government may occur through majority support, it must never overlook the necessity of respecting the consent of the minority. For this reason, Ambedkar opposed the enactment of any law that lacked the approval of minority communities, warning that such disregard could provoke rebellion. Law after law directly affecting minorities—especially the Muslim minority—is being enacted by the Modi-led BJP Government without seeking their consent. In fact, the recent enactment of the Waqf Amendment Bill (2025) is widely seen as a majoritarian assault on minority rights.

On multiple occasions, Ambedkar demanded both proportionate and effective representation for minorities. It is important to note that while proportionate representation is necessary, it is not sufficient. The term effective is crucial in Ambedkar’s framework for safeguarding minority rights. Once the principle of effective representation is acknowledged, it essentially grants the minority a form of veto power. This veto power serves as an assurance that minorities need not fear majority rule, as no law would be passed and no policy formulated without their equal participation and consent.

In other words, the success of democracy lies in ensuring that minorities feel confident, secure, and prosperous. Ambedkar, the Chairman of the Constitution Drafting Committee, sought to give the country a strong and just constitution, and he did his utmost to safeguard the interests of weaker sections within it. However, Ambedkar was also aware that, without the active participation of minorities and other marginalized groups in policymaking, even a good law would not ensure justice. To emphasize his point, Ambedkar argued that if marginalized communities are included in decision-making processes, they can interpret even a bad law to deliver justice. But if they are excluded from executing policies, even the best of laws will fail to serve their interests.

One of Babasaheb Ambedkar’s greatest achievements was securing constitutional, institutional, and legal protection for the policy of social justice and reservations—thus removing it from the whims of any individual, whether in the executive or the judiciary. Ambedkar understood that justice could not be achieved without addressing gender inequality and legally granting Hindu women equal rights. This is why he pushed hard for the passage of the Hindu Code Bill in its undiluted form.

No one understood better than Ambedkar the suffering of Hindu women during the post-Buddhist era, particularly under the social codes of Manu, which stripped them of their rights and severely restricted their mobility. As a feminist, Ambedkar recognized that the caste system was perpetuated by controlling the sexuality of Hindu women and prohibiting inter-caste marriages. He aimed to eliminate these social evils and liberate women through the Hindu Code Bill. Unfortunately, the Hindu Right—both within the Congress party and outside it—conspired against him. When he found himself isolated, Ambedkar was forced to resign. To this day, Ambedkar’s mission to liberate Hindu women remains unfulfilled.

As is evident today, the philosophy and goals of Dr. Ambedkar are more relevant than ever before. However, the struggle for emancipation from the caste-based social order can only succeed if broader solidarity is forged. I find that Ambedkar’s thoughts and programs align more closely with Leftist agendas. When I use the term “Left,” I refer to the broader Marxist and socialist philosophy. While I acknowledge that Ambedkar did not agree with every aspect of mainstream Marxist and socialist interpretations, that does not mean Ambedkar—and by extension, Ambedkarites—are not natural allies of the Left. Here, the term “Left” does not refer to any specific political party. Nor am I ignoring the reality that leadership within mainstream Left parties in India has historically been dominated by upper castes, who often neglected caste issues and hesitated to elevate Dalit leaders to top positions. Nevertheless, the historical failures of certain Left organizations should not become a permanent obstacle to an alliance between Ambedkarite and Leftist forces.

That is why, for me, my Ambedkar is a Leftist Ambedkar.

Dr. Abhay Kumar holds a PhD in Modern History from the Centre for Historical Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University. His forthcoming book explores Muslim Personal Law. Email: debatingissues@gmail.com

The post My Ambedkar is a leftist Ambedkar appeared first on SabrangIndia.

The support for this Bill from Hindutva forces is hardly surprising, given their well-documented hostility toward minorities. However, what is deeply unsettling is the complicity of several so-called secular parties. Their endorsement of the Bill exposes the emptiness of their professed commitment to minority rights and pluralism. Their secular rhetoric now stands exposed as little more than a deceptive smokescreen, carefully crafted to mask their communal politics.

With the passage of this Bill, the Muslim community is compelled to reassess its long-standing political trust in these so-called secular parties. It is now imperative for them to distinguish between genuine allies and those who betray them under the guise of friendship.

The Waqf Amendment Bill serves multiple objectives, none of which align with principles of justice or fairness. First, the Bill creates an avenue for widespread encroachment and plunder, effectively making it easier for government agencies and private entities to seize Waqf properties. Second, it significantly weakens the Waqf Tribunal, transferring excessive power into the hands of bureaucrats—an alarming violation of fundamental jurisprudential principles. Most shockingly, the government, which is itself a party to numerous disputes over Waqf land, has now positioned itself as the adjudicator in these very conflicts. This blatant conflict of interest constitutes a grave miscarriage of justice.

Third, the Bill may impose majoritarian supremacy. It sends an unambiguous message to the Muslim community: either submit to the will of the majority or risk further marginalization. Fourth, the Bill threatens to erode constitutional protections granted to minorities. It signals a broader trend—the gradual dismantling of constitutional safeguards for minority rights, including protections related to cultural identity and personal laws.

The judiciary, instead of acting as an independent arbiter and guardian of the Constitution, has increasingly succumbed to executive pressures. Rather than upholding constitutional principles, it has become a silent spectator—if not an outright enabler—of majoritarianism. The Babri Masjid-Ram Temple verdict stands as a glaring example of this judicial capitulation.

Fifth, the Bill may serve as a warning to all marginalized social groups. Its passage can be interpreted not merely as an assault on Muslims but as a broader threat to all minorities and weaker sections of society. It signals that their rights and properties are no longer as secure as they once were and may be seized under various pretexts to serve majoritarian agendas and profit-driven motives.

The Sachar Committee Report, commissioned by the Prime Minister, had provided crucial recommendations on how Waqf properties could be better managed for the welfare of the poor and marginalized. It emphasized that reclaiming encroached Waqf properties and improving their administration could generate substantial funds to support socio-economic upliftment. The report advocated for technological advancements, expert oversight, and even the establishment of a specialized UPSC cadre to manage Waqf assets. Yet, rather than implementing these progressive measures, the government has chosen a path that appears to facilitate the plundering of Waqf properties—going so far as to appoint non-Muslim members to oversee assets donated by believing Muslims for charitable purposes.

This betrayal by so-called secular parties has left the minority community in shock and despair. Since the Nehru era, Waqf properties have been systematically looted, but now this plunder appears to have been granted legal sanction. Other minority and marginalized communities must take heed—every common property could become a potential target for exploitation.

In these trying times, patience, wisdom, and strategic action are essential. Rash decisions driven by emotion will only deepen the crisis. Rather than allowing ourselves to be divided over petty issues, we must prioritize broader unity with other oppressed sections of society. This crucial moment also serves as a litmus test for genuine secular forces—where do they stand in this critical hour?

Dr. B.R. Ambedkar repeatedly warned that democracy cannot survive without safeguarding the rights of minorities—whether religious, caste-based, or Adivasi. Today, one can only imagine how Babasaheb, the chief architect of the Indian Constitution, would react to this assault on the very principles he enshrined. As someone born into the majority community, I hang my head in shame at this brazen display of majoritarianism.

But the bigger question remains: Will India continue down the path of majoritarian dominance, or will it reclaim its constitutional commitment to justice and equality? The future will depend on our actions. Remember, rights are not granted as charity—they are won through struggle. Similarly, the weakening of movements led by marginalized communities threatens to undo their hard-earned gains. Political processes are dynamic, and to prevent further setbacks, we must act now—peacefully and democratically.

(Dr. Abhay Kumar holds a PhD in Modern History from the Centre for Historical Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University. His forthcoming book explores Muslim Personal Law. Email: debatingissues@gmail.com)

Disclaimer: The views expressed here are the author’s personal views, and do not necessarily represent the views of Sabrangindia.

The post The Waqf Amendment Bill: A majoritarian assault on minority rights appeared first on SabrangIndia.

History bears witness to the fact that Islam has contributed several positive changes throughout human history, and I firmly believe that it still offers valuable lessons to the world. My conviction stems from both my readings on Islam and my close association with many Muslim friends. I have not only read the Holy Quran but have also lived among Muslims for years. Based on my studies and personal experiences, I can confidently say that much of the propaganda against Islam and Muslims is entirely baseless and politically motivated. However, that is not the focus here. My intention is to share my experience with Eid.

During my stay in the Sabzi Bagh area of Patna, I had the opportunity to observe and participate in the Eid festival. Sabzi Bagh is a densely populated area on the banks of the river Ganga, about half a mile east of the historic Gandhi Maidan. This large ground, famous for hosting powerful speeches from leaders like Jayaprakash Narayan to Lalu Prasad Yadav—speeches that have shaken the foundations of Indian politics—is considered the “lung” of Patna, which grows more congested by the day. The Sabzi Bagh area has both Hindu and Muslim populations, but the specific location of the office of Qaumi Tanzeem, one of Bihar’s leading newspapers, is predominantly inhabited by Muslims. It was during my first visit to Patna and the office of the Qaumi Tanzeem that I saw Sabzi Bagh. 

My birthplace is Raxaul, located on the India-Nepal border in the East Champaran district of Bihar. After passing my matriculation, albeit with a third division, my family showed little interest in supporting my further education. My elder brother entered into a partnership with one of his Marwari friends to open a coal shop and asked me to manage it on his behalf. I would open the shop in the morning and stay there until evening, selling coal. However, my passion for reading did not fade, even though I was cut off from formal education. I spent my free time at the shop reading newspapers and magazines. During that period, I learned Urdu with the help of a Maulvi from Mau (Uttar Pradesh), who worked as a muezzin at an Islampur mosque across the Sariswa River in Raxaul. He used to visit my locality to teach the Quran to Muslim students, and he kindly accepted my request to teach me Urdu alongside them. Later, my proficiency in Urdu improved with the guidance of other teachers, notably Amin Saheb from Islampur and Maulana Nasrullah, who ran a chicken shop on Post Office Road in Raxaul.

I quickly learned Urdu and gradually began reading Urdu newspapers. At the time, my knowledge of politics was limited, and my interests were mostly focused on sports. A few months into reading these papers, I felt a strong urge as a writer to express myself. I wrote a short piece on cricket in Urdu and sent it to Qaumi Tanzeem for publication. To my delight, the newspaper not only published my article but also included my picture, which filled me with joy. This marked the beginning of my connection with Qaumi Tanzeem—first as a reader, and then as a writer.

In addition to submitting articles, mostly about sports, I worked as a correspondent for the Urdu daily for a long time, covering Raxaul and its surrounding areas. As I ventured deeper into the field of writing, I realized that my knowledge was limited. In my pursuit of learning, I re-enrolled in formal education. I passed my intermediate exams and decided to move to Patna to pursue a degree in English, hoping to improve my English skills and become a better journalist. One of my seniors convinced me that to excel as a journalist, even in Urdu media, mastering English was essential.

Although I was able to secure admission at A.N. College, Patna, in English Honors, the biggest challenge I faced was finding accommodation. The college had no hostel, and I did not have the financial means to pay for room rent. It was during this difficult time that I sought help from the editors of Qaumi Tanzeem. Ashraf Fareed and the late Ajmal Fareed, the editors of the newspaper, were kind enough to allow me to share a room on the office premises without charging rent. I lived in that room for four years, sharing it with Shabbir Bhai, the office peon. Our room was also the dumping zone for the leftover paper. In our room, scrap paper was also stored. During the newspaper printing process, some paper would be left over from the paper rolls, which would be kept in our room for a month and then sold at the end of the month. At the beginning of the month, a bundle would arrive, and by the end of the month, a large part of the room would be filled with a mountain of paper. Many times, we feared that the pile of paper might fall on us. It was during my stay in Sabzi Bagh that I had the opportunity to participate in Eid celebrations. 

At the time, I worked at the Qaumi Tanzeem office. My responsibilities included translating English stories into Hindi, proofreading, and even attending press conferences. Since I was pursuing my graduation alongside working, I used to help out in the office whenever I had free time. I often found myself looking forward to iftar more eagerly than my Muslim colleagues. The aroma of pakoras, the fragrance of ripe fruits, and the vivid redness of Rooh-Afza would make my mouth water. As a bachelor living on my own and cooking my own meals, the prospect of enjoying delicious food always excited me. When the staff sat down to break their fast, I was invited to join them, just like any other rozedar. I noticed that the editors and other staff members would often insist that I eat more, treating me with extra warmth and hospitality.

During iftar, I never felt for a moment that I was an outsider. After iftar, when the believers would offer namaz, I would return to the office. No one ever insisted that I join them for prayer, nor did they make any comments about my religious identity. In fact, my editors and other staff members would ask if I had performed pooja during Hindu festivals. However, as I grew older, my interest in rituals gradually faded. When I told them I hadn’t performed any, they would suggest that I should have. I realized that while my Muslim colleagues were deeply connected to their faith, they also respected the beliefs of others. Years later, when I read the Holy Quran, I discovered that, contrary to widespread propaganda, it strongly supports tolerance, pluralism, and harmony. Consider these words from the Quran: “For you is your religion, and for me is my religion”.

As Eid approached, the market’s hustle and bustle intensified. The shops in Sabzi Bagh, illuminated by countless bulbs, stayed open late into the night. New stalls popped up on the footpaths, making it hard for pedestrians to navigate. Various tea stalls emerged, and shops selling delicious dates were everywhere. Golden, fried sewai were stacked in baskets for sale. Shops selling kurtas and perfumes also opened. Late into the night and into the early morning, Sabzi Bagh stayed alive. The area was decorated like a bride, and every night felt like Diwali. In the evenings, I would roam the alleys of Sabzi Bagh, sipping tea and chatting with friends. One of my favourite spots was the tea stall in front of the Bankipur post office. Unlike the night, the day had a deserted look until noon. The food-selling hotels would hang curtains in front of their shops, and behind them, those who did not fast would sit and eat. The curtain was put up as a mark of respect for those who were fasting. 

Since charity holds a significant place in Islam, many needy, destitute, and poor people would come to Sabzi Bagh during the holy month of Ramadan, hoping to receive some financial assistance. At the Qaumi Tanzeem office, an elderly blind man used to visit and stay for a few days during Ramadan. He would beg for money in the evenings. On several occasions, I saw him sitting on one of the porches, carefully counting his coins. By the end of the month, when he prepared to return home, he had collected a substantial amount in charity.

The day before Eid, the staff members would receive Eidi, a small monetary gift from the late editor, Ajmal Farid. No one knew exactly how much anyone else received. Before leaving the office, everyone would meet ‘Jammu’ Sir, as Ajmal Farid was affectionately called, in his chamber. He would discreetly take some money from his pocket, place it into the recipient’s pocket, embrace them, and wish them “Eid Mubarak.” I, too, eagerly awaited my turn. Ajmal Farid would slip a few hundred-rupee notes into my pocket and hug me, repeating, “Eid Mubarak.” Before I left his chamber, he would invite me to his home for food, as his house was located close to the office.

My preparation for Eid mostly involved washing my clothes and getting them ironed. I would also try to stay fresh for the occasion. On Eid day, I didn’t miss the opportunity to visit my editor’s house. There, we would be treated to a variety of delicious foods, many of which I had never tasted before. They gave me special attention, urging me to eat more and proudly introducing me to other guests, saying I was very good at Urdu.

In the evening, I was invited by the late Khursheed Hashmi to his house near Rukanpura, close to Rajapul in Panta. Khursheed Hashmi was from Gaya and worked as the senior-most journalist at Qaumi Tanzeem. He was responsible for deciding the main stories for the front page of the daily. A PhD in Urdu literature, Hashmi was a journalist with a clear perspective. While many journalists at Qaumi Tanzeem imitated the leading Hindi newspapers, he would privately express his frustration to me, saying that a good journalist develops their own perspective. He often remarked that what might be a top story for a leading newspaper doesn’t necessarily have to be a leading story for us. He emphasized that a journalist should never be swayed by the big media houses and should instead trust their own research and observations.

Khursheed Saheb was one of the best journalists I have ever met. Unfortunately, it’s a sad reality in the media industry that hundreds of dedicated journalists like Khursheed Hashmi, working for smaller media houses, are often underpaid and their contributions remain unrecognized. During my time at Qaumi Tanzeem, I grew close to him. He would often visit my room to have tea that I made. When he returned home, I would walk with him to Gandhi Maidan after 10 p.m., from where he would hire an auto to his place. Almost every day, I accompanied him to Gandhi Maidan to see him off, which gave me the opportunity to discuss pressing issues with him.

On the day of Eid, he used to wait for me, and we would take our meals together in the evening. He lived in a one-room flat in Rukanpura, and I would spend hours sitting with his family, talking. I stayed in Patna for several years before leaving for Delhi to pursue higher education. Each year, I made it a point to visit his house on Eid. I remember the day I was leaving Patna—he came to see me off at Gandhi Maidan bus station. Since then, whenever I visited Patna, I never missed an opportunity to meet Khursheed Saheb and visit the Qaumi Tanzeem office. Even today, some residents of Sabzi Bagh recognize me and greet me warmly. However, I heard the heartbreaking news that Khursheed Saheb passed away during the COVID-19 pandemic, leaving behind his family without any source of income. Since Urdu newspapers rarely offer social security to their staff, his family had to vacate their house in Patna and return to their hometown. His son, an engineer, has been trying to find a job.

Whenever Eid approaches, I reflect on my time at Qaumi Tanzeem. My experience of Eid is a testament to the inclusive nature of festivals in our society, celebrated by all, regardless of religious affiliation. However, I am deeply concerned about a segment of hardliners attempting to divide festivals along religious lines and communalize public religious spaces. Religious faith is a personal matter, while the celebration of festivals and the organization of religious events are social activities that thrive on the equal participation of all sections of society. These cherished memories of Sabzi Bagh are engraved in my heart and mind. When I reflect on them, I see the absurdity of the divisive politics surrounding festivals and the vilification of minority communities.

(The author holds a PhD in Modern History from the Centre for Historical Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University. His book on Muslim Personal Law is forthcoming. Email:debatingissues@gmail.com)

The post My Eid Celebration at Sabzi Bagh appeared first on SabrangIndia.

On Monday (March 9), Rane announced his government’s policy to issue Malhar certification to Hindu vendors and said, “A new concept has been launched for jhatka mutton in the form of Malhar certification for the Hindu community of Maharashtra. This will help Hindus identify mutton shops owned by Hindus, who will sell unadulterated meat. The initiative will empower Hindu traders, and I urge Hindus to refrain from buying mutton from shops that do not carry the Malhar certification” (The Indian Express, March 10, 2025).

At first glance, this certification practice appears anti-Muslim, as it lays the groundwork for an economic boycott of the Muslim minority. In reality, it imposes a form of economic apartheid on Muslims, further segregating them from the mainstream economy.

However, while this policy is promoted as an initiative to economically empower Khatik caste members, who belong to the Dalit community, it ultimately reinforces the Brahminical social order. By endorsing caste-based occupations, it stifles opportunities for upward mobility and entrenches the caste hierarchy. Such a policy grossly violates the principles of equality and secularism enshrined in the Indian Constitution and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR).

For example, Article 16 of the Constitution addresses Fundamental Rights and guarantees “equality of opportunity for all citizens in matters relating to employment or appointment to any office under the State.” Similarly, Article 16 forbids the state from discriminating against citizens based on “religion, race, caste, sex, descent, place of birth,” etc.

The UDHR, which was adopted by the General Assembly of the United Nations on December 10, 1948, to which India is a signatory, is also against discrimination based on religion. As stated in Article 2 of the UDHR, “Everyone is entitled to all the rights and freedoms set forth in this Declaration, without distinction of any kind, such as race, colour, sex, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status.”

It is unfortunate that the official web portal designed to issue ‘Jhatka’ meat certificates is carrying forward the Hindutva agenda of spreading anti-Muslim propaganda. The web portal (accessed on March 12) introduces itself by stating that “Malhar is a certified platform for Jhatka mutton and chicken vendors. It ensures that goat and sheep meat, sacrificed according to Hindu religious traditions, is fresh, clean, free from saliva contamination, and not mixed with any other animal meat. This meat is available exclusively through Hindu Khatik community vendors. Therefore, we encourage everyone to purchase mutton only from vendors certified by Malhar.”

The web portal deliberately uses phrases like “free from saliva contamination” and “not mixed with any other animal meat.” These terms perpetuate the Hindutva propaganda that Muslims deliberately contaminate meat, edible products, and drinks with their “saliva” before handing them over to Hindus. Their anti-Muslim narrative, claiming that Muslim meat-sellers add beef to mutton to hurt the religious sentiments of Hindus and corrupt their religion, is now being reinforced by official policy.

These words feed into the Hindutva propaganda of “spit-jihad” which accuses Muslims of contaminating food. Several BJP-ruled states have recently introduced draconian guidelines to prevent so-called cases of “spit-jihad,” a term invented to further isolate Muslim vendors, restaurant owners, and traders.

It appears that under the guise of maintaining hygiene and ensuring cleanliness, Hindutva governments are enforcing a new regime of untouchability on the minority Muslim community and Dalits. The larger strategy of the Hindu right is to increase anti-Muslim prejudice in society and portray Muslims as a threat to the Hindu community.

The Hindutva campaign for ‘Jhatka’ meat is less about respecting religious sentiment and more about imposing economic apartheid on Muslims. ‘Jhatka’ is a method of slaughtering animals for meat by a single blow of the sword. In contrast, Muslims use the ‘Halal’ method, which involves cutting the animal’s throat with a sharp knife in one stroke while reciting the name of Allah.

While different methods of slaughtering animals have long been prevalent in society, a large portion of the population didn’t pay much attention to the method used. However, the rise of communal politics has made the ‘Halal’ versus ‘Jhatka’ meat debate a polarizing issue. Now, Hindutva forces are exploiting it to enforce an economic boycott of Muslims and perpetuate the caste-based Brahminical social order.

The Khatik community, a Scheduled Caste, is socially, educationally, and economically disadvantaged. Many Khatik community members work as labourers, and some run small meat and chicken shops to earn their livelihood. By promoting ‘Jhatka’ meat, the BJP government in Maharashtra is attempting to woo the Khatik community.

However, the dark side of this policy is that the method of ‘Jhatka’ meat has been tied to sacrifices performed “according to Hindu religious traditions.” The consequence of such a policy is the further Hinduization of the Khatik community and the reinforcement of caste-based hereditary occupations. According to the website, the certificates for ‘Jhatka’ meat are issued “exclusively” to “Hindu Khatik community vendors.” Notably, the primary identity of the Khatik as Dalit and Ambedkarite has been overshadowed by the term “Hindu.”

Two critical issues are involved here. First, how can the State launch a scheme that includes or excludes applicants based on religion? This seems to be a clear violation of the secular ideals of the Constitution, and the judiciary should examine its legal validity.

Second, Babasaheb Dr. B.R. Ambedkar strongly opposed the caste system because it restricts social mobility and assigns individuals an occupation based on their caste, in gross violation of the principles of liberty, equality, and fraternity. Ambedkar, therefore, advocated for the annihilation of the caste system, not only because it oppresses Dalits, lower castes, and women, but also because it contributes to the backwardness of the country by creating a “division of labourers.” The Brahminical caste-based division of labour, which Babasaheb opposed throughout his life, is being reinforced in his own land, and every Ambedkarite and democratically minded person must come forward to oppose it.

(Dr. Abhay Kumar holds a PhD in Modern History from the Centre for Historical Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University. His book on Muslim Personal Law is forthcoming. Email: debatingissues@gmail.com)

Disclaimer: The views expressed here are the author’s personal views, and do not necessarily represent the views of Sabrangindia.

The post Hindutva push for ‘Jhatka’ meat is a Brahminical & anti-Muslim agenda appeared first on SabrangIndia.

On his birth anniversary, I would like to share my review of Madhok’s controversial book, Indianisation: What, Why and How, published in 1970. Madhok wrote this book three years before his expulsion from the party, which, according to L. K. Advani, was due to his “inflated ego” (Organiser, 1973: 13). Another reason for his expulsion was his public criticism of the party’s perceived leftward drift in economic policies. According to Madhok, the Jana Sangh’s defeats in the 1971 and 1972 elections were a direct result of this shift (Jaffrelot, 1966: 236). Madhok is also known for his role in movements advocating the full integration of Jammu and Kashmir with India, particularly through the formation of the Praja Parishad Party. Beyond politics, he also had an academic career, teaching history at the University of Delhi.

The concept of Indianisation has a long intellectual history, with some of its philosophical underpinnings tracing back to 19th-century religious revivalist movements that sought to associate ‘Hindustan’ with ‘Hindi’ and ‘Hindu’ identity. These tendencies were shaped by evolving power dynamics, particularly with the advent of the colonial British Raj. The British Raj initiated the processes of census-taking and enumeration in the second half of the 19th century, leading to the emergence of rigid identities. Additionally, the colonial historical construction of India’s past contributed to the portrayal of Hindus as the original inhabitants of the country, while Muslims were depicted as “invaders” and “foreigners.”

This notion was later adopted by the Hindu right to argue that minorities, particularly Muslims, posed a threat to the idea of the modern nation-state. As a response, several scholars, from Bankim and Savarkar to Golwalkar and Madhok, proposed ways to counter this perceived threat. In this book, Madhok argues for the Indianisation of those who, according to him, are not fully loyal to India and have “extra-territorial loyalties.” Unsurprisingly, Muslims are at the top of Madhok’s list, along with communists, Congress members, and other Indian politicians.

It was the Jana Sangh, during its plenary session in Kanpur in 1952, under the presidency of Shyama Prasad Mukherjee—whom Madhok worked with for many years—that first passed a resolution on Indianisation. In his work, Madhok was merely drawing upon this resolution. However, one might ask: why did he publish Indianisation in 1970?

One could argue that this book, representing the conservative forces within the party, was written to criticize the Jana Sangh for not being sufficiently critical of state control over the economy during Indira Gandhi’s regime. At the same time, media reports suggested that Madhok’s differences with senior leaders such as Atal Bihari Vajpayee, Nanaji Deshmukh, and L. K. Advani were growing. It is, therefore, plausible that Madhok felt compelled to reassert the Jana Sangh’s hardcore policies at a time when he was losing his grip on the party. In doing so, he likely sought to demonstrate that its current leadership had drifted away from its core ideology.

It is in this context that Madhok placed his views on Indianisation. According to him, “Indianisation, therefore, is nothing but the inculcation of a strong sense of nationalism in all Indians. It is neither something new nor anything sinister. It is something to which no patriotic Indian worth his name can take exception. Those who oppose it either do not understand what India and her heritage is or they deliberately want to create confusion and scare in some groups for political and partisan ends” (Madhok 1970: 18).

For Madhok, Indianisation is integral to nationalism. He is unwilling to accept the idea that such a process has any political motivation. Like any right-wing leader, he advocates the process of homogenisation as entirely natural. He refuses to acknowledge that society is, in fact, heterogeneous and that the right-wing agenda actively seeks homogenization—often at the cost of diversity and social harmony.

Similarly, Madhok is deliberately ignorant of the fact that the idea of nationalism is not independent of history. Like many right-wing and conservative thinkers, he attempts to discipline citizens into becoming adequately nationalist and loyal to the country. The internal divisions within society and the realities of material inequality are conveniently ignored to construct an artificially monolithic community. As he puts it, “Nationalism is not a question of political loyalties only. It demands a feeling of attachment and sense of pride for the country’s heritage and culture as well… Respect for the National Flag, National Anthem, National Language or Languages, National Heroes, and Great men, National ethos and values are part of nationalism. Aliens also can be absorbed into the national mainstream through inculcation of these feelings of oneness and identification with the national homeland, its culture and heritage” (Ibid).

It is ironic that Hindutva forces frequently distribute certificates of nationalism and loyalty to the country, yet they fail to critically examine themselves. During the anti-colonial struggle, they were either collaborating with the British Raj or disrupting national unity by stoking Hindu-versus-Muslim tensions. While they have often accused minorities, secularists, and leftists of being anti-national, historical reality shows that they themselves have criticized the Indian Constitution and the national flag, favouring the celebration of so-called Hindu culture and symbols over India’s secular national identity.

There are other critical questions that Madhok and other Hindutva leaders are not honest enough to address. For example, if he does not consider a person—be it a minority or a leftist—to be a nationalist unless they take pride in the “country’s heritage and culture,” then how can he and his fellow members of the RSS, Jana Sangh, and BJP claim to be champions of nationalism when the symbols of Hindutva nationalism exclude large sections of Indians—women, Dalits, lower castes, minorities, Tamils, and others outside the Hindi heartland?

It is clear that Madhok’s concept of Indian-ness is rooted in his narrow vision of nationalism. According to this perspective, anyone who does not conform to his own version of a Vedic, Brahminical conception of India is deemed anti-national. Once an individual or community is labelled as anti-national, the disciplinary process of Indianisation is imposed upon them. In other words, for Madhok, national culture is not based on secularism, pluralism, or unity in diversity. Instead, it is deeply sectarian, communal, exclusionary, and reactionary.

For Madhok, the canon is Brahminical/Vedic culture. He disregards the fact that India’s history extends beyond the Vedic period. The Adivasi cosmology, the Dravidian languages, Tamil culture, and the philosophical footprints of Mahavir, Buddha, Guru Nanak, and Kabir—who all challenged Brahminical traditions—are visible across the subcontinent. However, Madhok is so sectarian that he refuses to look beyond the life of the “Vedic Aryans,” who, according to him, provided the “substratum of Indian culture and civilisation” (Ibid: pp. 6-7). Here, one can observe his attempt to equate the essence of India with Vedic Aryan culture and conflate it with Hindu identity.

Instead of acknowledging that his thesis on Indianisation is sectarian, Madhok blames liberal, democratic, and Marxist forces for having “mounted a bitter attack” on his work. He argued that critics of Indianisation had misunderstood the concept. As he stated, “…they have been misinterpreting Indianisation as a means to eliminate religious minorities and re-convert Muslims and others to their ancestral faiths and faith or faiths” (Ibid: 19). In contrast, he defended his stance, asserting, “Indianisation aims at making every citizen to India a better Indians, a good patriot and a nationalist” (Ibid: 20).

As is evident once again, the concept of Indianisation serves as a tool in the hands of Hindutva forces to discipline minorities and other marginalized communities, compelling them to become adequately Indianised. This process leaves very little space for marginalized communities to assert their identities and fight for their legitimate rights. Simply put, Indianisation functions as a means to silence these communities and assimilate them into Brahminical culture under the pretext of making them loyal citizens.

For Madhok, the key terms are “good patriot” and “nationalist.” This raises an important question: what, in his view, prevents certain people from being considered good patriots and nationalists? Madhok provides several reasons. To begin with, he expresses concern over the rise of “regionalism,” arguing that “regional consciousness began to take better of national consciousness” (Ibid: 26). He is particularly critical of what he describes as the “sinister game” behind the creation of linguistic states. In other words, Madhok seeks to attack the federal structure of the Constitution and pave the way for a more centralized state.

It is important to remember that Hindutva forces have long championed a unitary state and often feel threatened by the rise of regional movements. Their discomfort with federalism underscores their broader ideological commitment to a homogenized, centralized form of governance that suppresses linguistic and cultural diversity. For Madhok, only a strong central authority could hold the nation together, and any move toward decentralization was viewed with suspicion. Yet, they failed to acknowledge even the very first article of the Indian Constitution, which defines India as a “Union of States.”

Madhok’s discomfort with regional identities is evident in his assertion: “Most Indians today are Punjabis or Bengalis or Malayalis first and Indians only next or never” (Ibid: 27). It would be a mistake to assume that such views are confined to a particular section of conservative/Hindutva forces in India. Even today, similar sentiments persist elsewhere. A notable example is the 2007 Bollywood film Chak De! India, which revolves around the Indian women’s hockey team. The film echoes these anxieties when the team’s coach, played by Shah Rukh Khan, laments that the players introduce themselves by their regional identities rather than their national identity.

Moving away from “regionalism,” Madhok discusses the danger of “casteism,” which, in his view, further justifies the need for Indianisation. As he puts it, “…casteism is tending to become as great if not greater danger to unity as regionalism. Today most Indians are either Jats, or Brahmins or Rajputs or Harijans first and Indians afterwards” (Ibid: 30). As is evident here, Madhok’s analysis of caste comes from a top-down perspective. Upper-caste scholars and elite leaders often lament that caste identity remains strong in the political domain, preventing leaders from rising above “narrow” and “sectarian” caste loyalties.

However, neither Madhok nor any Hindutva leader has ever examined the root causes of the caste system. They often claim to oppose caste divisions and insist that they treat all Indians as equals. Yet, they have never made a serious effort to dismantle the caste system. They have never launched movements promoting inter-caste marriages and inter-dining. They have never supported initiatives for proportional and effective representation of marginalized castes and communities.

As long as the lower castes silently endure their exploitation and humiliation, Hindutva leaders feel satisfied and consider everything to be in order. However, the moment Dalits, Adivasis, and lower castes organize themselves and raise the issue of caste-based discrimination, upper-caste-led Hindu right-wing organizations launch a bitter campaign against them, branding them as anti-national. This phenomenon was evident during the Mandal agitation. When the 27% reservation for OBCs was implemented, Advani initiated a nationwide Rath Yatra for the construction of the Ram Temple, attempting to drown out the voices advocating for social justice in the noise of religious nationalism. In Madhok’s work too, one can observe a deliberate attempt to obscure caste from public discourse.

After addressing internal factors such as casteism and regionalism, Madhok shifts his focus to the idea of a “glorious India,” which he associates with a Vedic, Hindu, Brahminical culture—excluding large sections of society. He writes: “India has been [a] land of freedom of thoughts and tolerance from the very dawn of her history” (Ibid: 32). However, in glorifying India’s past, Madhok overlooks the reality that a significant portion of the population—Dalits, lower castes, and women—were systematically excluded from education and knowledge. The near-total absence of materialist Charvaka philosophical texts in Madhok’s analysis, which were critical of Vedantic philosophy, raises questions about whether India’s past was truly a symbol of a free society.

Madhok’s response to this issue appears to involve placing the blame on Muslims, who, according to him, came to India and disrupted its supposed unity. He argues: “The situation changed… with the advent of Islam in this country. Apart from the fact that it came to India on the wings of foreign invaders, one of whose main motivations was [the] spread of Islam in this country, its very character was [the] anti-thesis of Indian thinking and attitude in regard to religion” (Ibid: 33). Here, one can clearly see Islam being positioned as an external disruptor. Madhok further attributes the rise of communalism to Islam, stating: “No wonder, therefore, that both the Muslim Arabs and Turks who brought Islam into India behaved towards the Indian people in a most barbaric manner” (Ibid: 34).

This is a time-tested method of Hindutva forces—using the Muslim community as a scapegoat. They conveniently blame the minority community to divert attention from the highly exploitative Hindu social order based on caste hierarchy and gender oppression. However, Madhok does not stop here. He later acknowledges that the encounter between Islam and India gradually eroded much of Islam’s supposed intolerance and exclusivity. In other words, he attempts to credit the majority community’s religion for this transformation.

For Madhok, the history of Islam—spanning several continents and spreading through the message of Prophet Muhammad—is not worth mentioning. Even Indian scholars like M. N. Roy, writing four decades before Madhok, argued that Islam brought peace and tolerance to the world while promoting rationality, the spirit of learning, and equality. Yet, Madhok deliberately obscures these historical facts, as he is eager to prove his thesis that Brahminical culture is supreme and that anyone critical of the RSS or Jan Sangh is anti-national.

It is not only Muslims but also communists who come under sharp criticism from Madhok, as he believes they have “extra-territorial loyalties.” According to him, this is why they must be Indianised and inculcated with nationalist and patriotic values. Ultimately, Madhok also turns his attention to Indian politicians, arguing that they too should be Indianised, as they are driven more by vote-bank politics than by national interests. Put simply, anyone who disagrees with the author’s sectarian, supremacist, and exclusionary vision of the RSS/Jan Sangh—or follows a culture or religion other than the Hinduism defined by the RSS—is deemed disloyal and unpatriotic and must immediately be ‘Indianised.’

In conclusion, Madhok’s book was an attempt to reassert the core of Hindutva ideology, which envisions a homogenized nation-state rooted in Vedic, Brahminical culture. This came at a time when the Jana Sangh was experimenting with certain popular economic measures during Indira Gandhi’s regime, becoming less critical of state intervention in economic affairs. The book was published when Madhok was desperate to counter his marginalisation within the party, as his relationship with senior leaders like Advani and Vajpayee was becoming increasingly bitter. However, despite Madhok being an almost forgotten name within his own party, many of the arguments presented in his book continue to be articulated in various ways by Hindu right-wing leaders. This is why a thorough reading and critique of the book remains useful in countering the menace of Hindutva nationalism, which poses a serious threat to the secular and pluralist fabric of the country.

 (This article was originally written as an assignment by the author during his postgraduate studies at Jawaharlal Nehru University from 2009 to 2011. The author took a course at the Centre for Historical Studies, taught by the late Prof. M. S. S. Pandian. The author expresses deep gratitude to Prof. Pandian for introducing him to a critical perspective. The original review has been slightly edited to improve the flow of the text.)

References

Jaffrelot, Christophe (1996). The Hindu Nationalist Movement and Indian Politics. C. Hurst & Co.

Madhok, Balraj (1970). Indianisation: What, How and Why. S. Chand, New Delhi.

Organiser (1973). Mouthpiece of the RSS, 17 March issue, p. 13.

Related:

Balraj Madhok: A Pracharak-turned-Crusader against His Own ‘Parivar’

How Hindutva forces colluded with both the British & Jinnah against the historic ‘Quit India’ movement: Archives

Kannur University likely to drop works of Savarkar, Golwalkar from syllabus

The post Hindutva, Caste, and Nationhood: A Critical Review of Madhok’s book Indianisation appeared first on SabrangIndia.

Vivekananda also emphasised that the message of Jesus of Nazareth was meant for all of humanity, showing us the path of truth. As he put it, “In him is embodied all that is the best and greatest in his own race, the meaning, the life, for which that race has struggled for ages; and he himself is the impetus for the future, not only to his own race but to unnumbered other races of the world.”

While Swamiji was deeply respectful of Jesus Christ and acknowledged that His message was universal, he did not fully engage with the core aspects of Jesus’ teachings, particularly His focus on addressing the profound inequalities of the material world and His sacrifice for the downtrodden.

Rather than confronting these real-world issues, Swamiji sought to place Christ in the framework of a “Great Soul,” interpreting His life and teachings through the lens of his own Vedantic philosophy. In simpler terms, Swamiji seemed to suggest that the message of Jesus was essentially an articulation of the non-dualist Vedantic thought that he himself espoused.

Although Swamiji praised Jesus extensively in his lecture, a significant part of his effort was spent creating an artificial binary between the East and the West. Influenced by Orientalist writings, Vivekananda appeared to present an East-versus-West dichotomy to a Western audience in the early twentieth century. During this time, rapid industrialization had unsettled many Europeans, prompting some to seek solace in the “spiritual” East. The Western fascination with Swamiji’s words should be understood within this historical context.

In his lecture, Vivekananda strongly argued that Jesus belonged to the Eastern world (Asia). He went even further, boldly claiming that all great souls and incarnations originated in the Orient. As he stated, “No wonder, the oriental mind looks with contempt upon the things of this world and naturally wants to see something that changeth not, something which dieth not, something which in the midst of this world of misery and death is eternal, blissful, undying. An oriental Prophet never tires of insisting upon these ideals; and, as for Prophets, you may also remember that without one exception, all the Messengers were Orientals.”

However, Vivekananda failed to recognise that human races, religions, and spiritual practices are not confined to a specific region. People live beyond the Oriental world, practicing a wide range of faiths and relating to God in diverse ways. Even the concept of God is not central to some religions. Some faiths possess sacred texts while others have no history of revealed scriptures. These complex sociological and theological practices were overlooked by Vivekananda in his effort to create a sharp distinction between the Oriental and Occidental worlds.

Vivekananda extended this argument further, making the unsubstantiated claim that European society is primarily “political,” while the Eastern world is “religious.” According to him, “‌The voice of Asia has been the voice of religion. The voice of Europe is the voice of politics.” To support this view, he asserted that “the voice of Europe is the voice of ancient Greece.” He also suggested that because the ancient Greek civilization was primarily focused on the material world, its profound influence on Europe led the continent away from religion.

As he explained, “The Greek lives entirely in this world. He does not care to dream. Even his poetry is practical. His gods and goddesses are not only human beings, but intensely human, with all human passions and feelings almost the same as with any of us. He loves what is beautiful, but, mind you, it is always external nature; the beauty of the hills, of the snows, of the flowers, the beauty of forms and of figures, the beauty in the human face, and, more often, in the human form—that is what the Greeks liked. And the Greeks being the teachers of all subsequent Europeanism, the voice of Europe is Greek.”

Vivekananda largely overlooked that an influential segment of the Western world had claimed the Greek tradition as part of its own cultural heritage. However, the image of Greece has shifted throughout history; some scholars argue that Greece was once viewed as a part of African civilization. Moreover, the dominant discourse in post-Enlightenment Western civilization has often failed to acknowledge adequately the influence of Islam and other non-Western traditions on the rise of Europe.

It appears that Swami Vivekananda spoke within the framework of the dominant European narrative, which positioned Greek culture as the foundational heritage of post-Enlightenment European civilization. However, he gave this argument an intriguing twist by attributing Europe’s secular outlook to the ancient Greeks, claiming this to be the primary cause of Europe’s distance from religion.

The binary opposition that Swamiji established between the religious East and the materialistic/secular West profoundly influenced India’s nationalist movements and post-independence politics. Decades later, when Rabindranath Tagore delivered his lectures on nationalism, he appeared to draw on a similar logic, explaining societal phenomena through binary oppositions. In his lectures, Tagore framed a dichotomy between the social and the political, famously stating, “Our real problem in India is not political. It is social.”

While Swamiji rejected both Greek and European modes of thought, he crafted his own version of religion, which he saw as complementary to the teachings of Jesus. For Vivekananda, religion was crucial in Asia, uniting people despite their differences. Although the unifying role of religion cannot be denied, Swamiji’s lecture overlooked that this so-called religious solidarity is often fractured along caste, class, and gender lines. In other words, divisions by caste, class, and gender are frequently obscured by ruling elites who use religion as a tool to artificially forge unity.

Claiming that people in Asia are inherently religious, Swamiji argued that, unlike the Greeks, Asians are not confined to the material world but instead seek to transcend it, looking for something immutable and indestructible. Drawing on Vedantic philosophy, he suggested that religious individuals in the East go beyond the empirical world in search of “the changeless.”

In his depiction of the religious individual, Vivekananda presented a figure who disregards the material world, focusing instead on what is eternal and imperishable. In contrast, materialist and Buddhist philosophies critique this denial of the material world, emphasizing the dynamic nature of existence. Interestingly, even Jesus Christ—who fought for the rights of the poor and challenged social injustices—is appropriated within the broader Vedantic framework.

In my reading of Vedantic philosophy, I find that it contains some elements of equality, particularly in its belief that God resides within all beings. Since it claims that every individual embodies God, Vedanta has the potential to broaden the social foundation of Hinduism.

Vivekananda expanded on this concept in his lecture, emphasizing that God resides within the soul of every person. This aligns with the message that all are children of God. He expressed it as follows: “As man advanced spiritually, he began to feel that God was omnipresent, that He must be in him, that He must be everywhere, that He was not a distant God, but clearly the Soul of all souls. As my soul moves my body, even so is God the mover of my soul. Soul within soul. And a few individuals who had developed enough and were pure enough, went still further, and at last found God.”

However, the limitation of this perspective is its failure to address social inequality. If all are embodiments of God, then how do we define the oppressed and the oppressors? In other words, Vivekananda’s religious theory acknowledges the existence of sorrow but does not consider the causes of sorrow in the world. To escape from sorrow, Vedantic philosophy suggests transcending the material world. Yet, the philosophers of oppressed communities urge people not only to examine the roots of inequality but also to actively work toward eliminating them. The life of Jesus, as the Messiah of the downtrodden, offers numerous examples of the fight for an egalitarian world—an aspect that Vivekananda overlooked in his Los Angeles lecture.

[The author holds a PhD in Modern History from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. His research focuses on minority rights and social justice. Email: debatingissues@gmail.com]

Related:

Vivekananda: Monk who highlighted Humanism of Hinduism

Redefining Indian Tradition Minus Christianity & Islam is Intellectual Dishonesty

The post How has Swami Vivekananda looked at Jesus Christ? appeared first on SabrangIndia.