I am nervous in speaking before this panel of knowledge elites who are far ahead of me in mediatized performance. In fact, I was hardly needed within this panel, given there is a galaxy of experts present.

These days, communicating within (and among) the like-minded audience is hardly a challenge and it doesn’t serve the desired purpose as much as it should.  The panellists have already spoken a lot on the theme of the symposium. At stake are the words, “evidence”, “proof”, “facts” (subut, sakshya, pramaan). The incumbent regime is doing everything in its power to create a common sense against “evidence” (rationality). Not just in the discipline of history but in every sphere of our daily lives. Not just in India; elsewhere too. Non-state actors, with the backing of state power and wilfully failed criminal-justice system, are deciding what we eat, what not to and what kind of edibles can be stored in our kitchens and refrigerators. These factors impinge on whether we can live or can be killed with impunity.

We are here to reflect upon the National Education Policy 2020. Its basis, as admitted by the Indian government is National Curriculum Framework for School Education 2023. The three year of school education during the Grades 6 to 8, according to them are very critical. They do admit that content and pedagogy both are crucial. I looked into the textbooks meant for Grade 6 and for Grade 7. The title is Exploring Society, India and Beyond. The regime claims that these textbooks have an emphasis: minimizing the text by focusing on core concepts. “Focusing on big ideas”, is their emphasis in the “Letter to the Student”, appended at the beginning of the books; and multi-disciplinary approach is an important stated concern. Fundamental Rights and Duties are excerpted from the Constitution, and printed with embellishment. All these are high sounding claims, apparently. But not so, as we get into the details by proceeding further into the book.

A few years ago, we also had “Learning Outcomes based Curriculum Framework (LOCF): BA History Undergraduate Programme, 2021”. In an essay in the journal, Social Scientist, Irfan Habib has written extensively. The prose is endearingly satirical, a trait which the eminent historian employs in his public speaking and less in writing and within the classroom. I would strongly recommend that all of you read the essay. Such a Framework from the regime envisages political encroachment upon the curricula-framing and through this the shrinking autonomy of the universities.

Maulana Azad’s role as education minister (1946-58), along with Nehru and Radhakrishnan, in the autonomy of the UGC was foundational (1953-56). He championed the creation of an independent statutory body to manage and fund higher education, a move that was essential for the institutional autonomy of universities and for the development of a standardized and high-quality higher education system in India. Not only this, Maulana Azad served as the Chairman of the Central Advisory Board of Education (CABE), a vital body for advising the central and state governments on educational matters and in framing school curricula. He presided over multiple meetings of the board, including those held in 1948, 1949, and 1950. This position gave him a direct platform to shape and influence educational reforms and policies at a national level.

Maulana Azad was quite conscious of the fact that the Medieval historical past (Muslim rulers) will be weaponized in certain ways by both, Hindu and Muslim communal forces. He therefore instructed (1949) ‘the historians of AMU to conduct research on that period by accessing original sources in Oriental languages.’ While resisting colonialism, his own perception of the Mughal past was distinctive. For instance, he looked upon Shaikh Ahmad Sirhindi’s resistance (otherwise quite a conservative figure) against Akbar as an instance of why Muslim subjects too rise in resistance against the British colonial state (See Muzaffar Alam, “Maulana Azad and his memory of the Islamic past: a study of his early writings”, JRAS, Cambridge. 33, 4, 2023, pp 901-916)

For the diminishing autonomy of the universities in recent decades, politics is responsible as also the misuse and abuse of autonomy by the universities and the academia themselves, over a period of time. Recently, the Vice Chancellor (VC) of a prestigious university recently got a show cause notice on the flimsiest of grounds and the notice was not issued by the Visitor. More on that on another occasion!

The specific theme around which we have gathered here is something we are agitated about given that the incumbent regime is selective about facts, besides distorting the facts of history and more than that, which is, not less important, manipulating historical facts in most insidious ways. Manufacturing falsehood, parading these as history, and thereby poisoning the minds of children, of ordinary people in general. That is our concern here. There is a systematic attack on reason. People should not have minds, apply them, should not have or develop any critical faculty. They should not be thinking like citizens with powers of critical thinking, rather, they should function as mere subjects, praja, reáaya, before rulers. This appears to be the dominant political wisdom today.

We also need to keep in mind the fact that the NCERT textbooks are written more for the purpose of teaching material to the teachers. This is the purpose forgotten a long while ago.

Just four days ago, my teacher, Prof Farhat Hasan, along with Prof. Neeladri Bhattacharya, in their interview with Vrinda Gopinath (The Wire.In, July 31, 2025), have articulated all the important concerns pertaining to the issue. Ruchika has been doing it consistently in so many ways with effective communication. I hardly need to repeat these here. I would therefore seek your permission to raise some other issues which may not be getting adequate attention in terms of diagnosing the trouble. Just for the sake of informing the less informed, non-specialist audience here, allow me to do a quick recap, before embarking on the issues I wish to raise here:

In the latest version of NCERT textbooks, we have:

• Demonisation of Mughal rulers including Akbar (a feat achieved by Muslim reactionaries too); and the controversy around Aurangzeb-Shivaji. Through both of these, we can clearly identify the ways in which Hindu and Muslim Right Wing treat history.
• Discussing historical periods and rulers within the binaries of ‘Glorious’ and ‘Dark’ periods and rulers defined as ‘Heroes’ and ‘Villains’, in terms of their personal faith. This irrational method overlooks overall state policies and political contexts and values of the era, and thereby creates an atmosphere through which co-religionists of these past rulers are made answerable for certain deeds. Taken to extremes, this can mean ‘punishing them for the previous wrongdoers.’
• The authors/editors of the NCERT textbooks of the 1970s and then again in 2005-06 had reputed professional academic historians this is not the case anymore;
• Earlier, each chronological period had judiciously distributed adequate space, across the evolving grades from VI to XII;
• All regions had spaces in terms of history-making, in the earlier textbooks, yet there were allegations of selective emphasis;
• Gender, Caste, Environment, Technology and Socio-economic changes, Growth of Science in history, sports, literature, sartorial culture, etc., were the issues which remained less addressed; with the evolution of a historical understanding, these issues were attempted in the NCET textbooks of 2005-06. Yet, right wing allegations persisted.
• Allegations of the Right wing were and are (about earlier books), temple ‘destructions’ during the time when Muslim rulers ruled were not emphasized in these texts. Making this argument they pushed for deletion of similar acts by Hindu rulers. Narratives built to create a communally divisive atmosphere. As if today’s ordinary Muslims are answerable for the past conduct of Muslim rulers, and today’s Hindus aren’t answerable for the similar acts of the Hindu rulers in the past.
• Anglo-Maratha Wars are okay to be taught, the Anglo-Mysore wars must to be omitted
• Ironically, while right wing forces might apparently talk of nativism laced with the rhetoric of being anti-West, at the same time their historical narratives derive much from the colonially divisive projects of historical representation;   Dr Ruchika Sharma is doing a lot to speak and write on these.

History has a political goal, has been a tool of ruling class, across the globe. It was so, always. This reminds me of Paul Freire’s 1968 book, Pedagogy of the Oppressed. He identifies two objectives of pedagogy: a tool for domination, and a tool for liberation. Here there are two models viz., “Banking Model”, in which the students are treated as passive recipients who in turn become unthinking, “submissively obedient” and status-quoist.[1] This de-humanises both the teachers and the students. In this, the oppressed turn into a new batch oppressors. Another model of pedagogy, Friere says, is: “Problem-Posing Model” wherein the teachers and students are co-educators to each other, it is dialogic and interactive.

In this context, one is also reminded of a recent book, Hilary Falb Kalisman, Teachers as State-builders[2]. This book talks of teaching which turns students into a force of resistance, state-subverters, disruptors, challengers to the status quo, and thereby creating thinking citizens who will build stronger society and state, rather than collaborators of the regime.  That is how, Kalisman says, colonial societies emerged to resist the state and attain freedom.

School textbooks are often used to both craft what the nation is or must be and to “teach” future citizens how they are now bound to and by a common historical narrative. Therefore, it is not surprising that India and Pakistan (and later Bangladesh) have put concerted efforts into crafting propaganda-like historical narrations about what their nations stood for.

Such historical narrations ‘droned on, ponderously, sonorously, and repetitively’ in citizenship projects about how the nation came to be formed and what the nation-state did for people’s benefit. Joya Chatterji (in her Shadows at Noon, p. 145) writes: ‘It was not so much that this publicity was executed with brilliance. It was not. It was merely the case that it was repeated ad nauseam, and that everydayness made the message natural’.

Not that history has not been used as a tool in earlier times! But then it was, as it should be, used as a tool of emancipation. Emancipation of the colonised, enslaved people. To inject self-confidence among the rising nation, the nation in making. By the word, nation, I mean people, not merely territory.  Jawaharlal Nehru’s Discovery and Glimpses were written for those noble purposes. Tara Chand’s books, the books written on the history of 1857 in 1907-09, in 1957, in 2007, etc., by the scholar-activist nationalists were pursuits in those directions. The NCERT textbooks, the books written for popular readings and published by the NBT were all exercises in those noble desirable purposes and directions.

Modern rational, secular democracies need such pursuits immeasurably. Praja ko Nagrik mein badalna hai, that is our biggest challenge today. It is a battle between “communalisation” and “secularization”. Please do note the difference. I am not using the words, “communalism” and “secularism”. I am using its variants, the process, not the mere nouns.

Once we read, Yasmin Khan’s 2011 essay (Modern Asian Studies), “Performing Peace: Gandhi’s Assassination as a Critical Moment in the Consolidation of the Nehruvian State”, we get to know, beyond the stated motive of the author, that the Nehru-led state was making efforts which were, in turn, using it in a certain way; the way for the marginalizing the forces who liquidated Gandhi’s body and life, if not his mind and ideas and ideology and praxis and methodologies.  Nehru strategically managed the public mourning, funeral, and distribution of Gandhi’s ashes to assert state power and legitimise Congress leadership during the turbulent post-Partition period (1947–1950). The state-organised funeral in Delhi, contrasted with widespread, vernacular mourning rituals across India, bridged the gap between the state and the people, reinforcing Nehruvian secularism. Public grief, amplified by events like the Ardh Kumbh Mela, transformed Gandhi into a saintly figure, fostering communal harmony and countering Hindu nationalist sentiments. Yasmin Khan emphasizes that these rituals were not merely ceremonial but politically transformative, solidifying the Congress Party’s role in shaping a unified, secular Indian state.

Nehru was very clear about the problem of communalism. He knew it more clearly than anybody else that in colonial era Muslim communal separatism was stronger because of the colonial state; during 1938-47, competitive communalisms of the two largest religious communities became greater menace because of the colonial state. After 1947, more particularly, after January 30, 1948, Hindu communalism was greater threat. Patel realised it only after January 30, though he didn’t survive for long after that to help Nehru in a larger way. He died in December 1950; not in 1960 (our Home Minister, Mr Shah should allow me to correct him)!

I was referring to the processes of communalisation. These forces remained there, not exactly subterranean, in the early years of independence. The majoritarian forces were apparently and arguably not in a hurry to be state-centric. They were working more on cultural fronts, and in the spheres of education, with the “Catch-them-Young” approach. This focus was there among both Hindu and Muslim communal forces. Both, were waiting for the right moment to capture state power for a full scale implementation of their communalisation programmes. In Pakistan, this project was hardly ever in resistance, as the very basis of the creation of Pakistan was communal. Krishna Kumar and at least in a column, Arvind N Das had written extensively on this. Persons, some previously with the prestigious, St Stephen’s, [I H Qureshi (1903-1981) and also the Gen Zia’s regime] did much to push Pakistan rightward. Ali Usman Qasmi’s (essay in Modern Asian Studies, 2018), “A Master Narrative for the History of Pakistan: Tracing the origins of an ideological agenda”, explains this phenomenon at length.

Gen Zia’s reign (1977-1988), more aptly depicted in Hanif’s novel, A Case of Exploding Mangoes[3], coincided with the Saudi-funded project of the Islamisation of Knowledge (IoK) scheme. A range of scholars in different parts of the world started promoting Islamisation of Knowledge (known as ‘IoK’) in the late 1970s. The first World Conference on Education in Makkah (1977) marked a decisive step in the formulation of this project on an international platform. [Among the best-known scholars advocating this notion were Palestinian–American scholar Ismail al-Faruqi and Malaysian philosopher Syed Naqib al-Attas. For radicalization under Gen Zia’s regime, see, Virinder and Waqas Bhatt’s ‘If I Speak, They Will Kill Me, to Remain Silent Is to Die’: Poetry of resistance in General Zia’s Pakistan (1977–88), Modern Asian Studies, 53, 4, 2019. Also see my blog, “Namo’s India a parody of Zia’s oppressive regime in Pakistan?”, SabrangIndia. In, February 17, 2020].

“Sub-continental Majoritarianisms”, to use Papiya Ghosh’s expression, and global politics of the Ummah created a fear among Hindus, especially after the Khilafat mobilisations during the national movement. After Partition too, Hindu Majoritarianism derived fodder from such political pursuits of the Ummah. (Sir Syed Ahmad Khan was against the pan-Islamic, extraterritorial, Ummah; he was for a Qaum confined within national boundary). This phenomenon (Muslim communalism) feeding majority communalism has been afoot since the 1970s and 1980s. This is not a marginal factor. One communalism feeds another, is what Nehru had said, and Bipan Chandra later elaborated upon it.

India and its own Muslim right wing organizations were not averse to or unconnected with the abovementioned schemes promoting the Muslim right wing. Please do have a look into Chapter 6 of Laurence Gautier’s latest book on post-1947 AMU and JMI, Between Nation and Community, Syed Anwar Ali, a Jamaat-e-Islami affiliated teacher in the AMU and his book, Hindustan Mein Islam, and I H Quraishi’s book, The Muslim Community of the Indo-Pakistan Subcontinent, 610-1947, which give us a clear idea of Muslim Right Wing in our sub-continent, pre and post-1947.

All right wing forces have globalised networks. Secular resistance too has to ensure globalised networks of solidarity. No study or commentary in isolation will really help us understand the communal forces. (Communalisation of the textbooks is just a part of that politics); and thus, a less informed understanding and flawed or partisan diagnosis will not help us create an effective solidarity. Going soft on the Muslim right wing and hard against the Hindu right wing has proved a counterproductive strategy all these years.

Khoo gar-e- Hamd se thorha sa gila bhi sun le

Barring one or two lesser known pamphlets published by the Indian Left I have hardly come across any comprehensive criticism against the India’s Muslim right wing pursuits in these domains. We do understand that post-1947, the Muslim Right Wing couldn’t be as dangerous as the Hindu Right Wing. It was Nehru’s understanding of communalism and it was his desired magnanimity. That does not, however, really mean that such a lesser danger would not attract attention and will not be resisted. I am not compartmentalising the resistances we ought to offer.

Given the contemporary challenges, I strongly feel that Muslim intellectuals (if they really exist) of India need to speak out more on those aspects. India’s Liberals as also Leftists have reasons to agree with Nehru’s understanding on the colonial and post-Independence communalisms in India (Nehru understood that Muslim communal separatism was more dangerous only till 1947, under the colonial prodding; post-1947 India, Hindu communalism is more dangerous). To this, Late Prof Imtiaz Ahmad had an opinion: this differential understanding doesn’t really mean that while fighting the two communalisms you will discriminate between the two. They have reasons not to speak as much on Muslim right wing. But that cannot be a choice for the Muslim intellectuals. The more they avoid exposing India’s Muslim right wing, the more they provide weapons to the Hindu right and the more they weaken the moral authority of India’s Secularists.

I am only reminding this audience of the fact that minority rights discourses from Muslim leaders have remained weaker during our national movement (the Muslim League shifted this discourse to a direction in which Muslim minority was to be treated to be a nation of ex-rulers), and after Independence too, communal-identitarian concerns were given priority. Rather than strengthening the secularisation processes of India, Muslim intellectuals have remained more active in safeguarding regressive and patriarchal Personal Laws, and less at strengthening the secular forces of India. The religious and “secular” Muslim leadership has remained more identitarian, less secularistic. That has all along done a great disservice to the overall processes of secularisation, only to help majoritarian forces.

Fast forward to 1977 and after: Resurgence of competitive communalisms in the 1980s

Riding on alliance-politics, majoritarian forces in India eventually succeeded, more menacingly with the turn of this century/millennium. They had never really given up. Competitive majoritarianism remained a force to reckon with across the sub-continent. Whenever they formed governments in alliance/coalition in New Delhi, majoritarian parties preferred to the portfolios education, culture, information and broadcasting. Other non-Congress or anti-Congress regional forces hardly pitched for such portfolios.

Unlike majoritarian parties, secular forces, most of who have been state-centric; were dependent upon state resources, subsidy concessions and spaces to run their secularisation projects. Of course, the Left forces existed in industrial trade unions, on the university campuses, students and youth movements, and in the peasant movements, and through certain effected cultural organisations in both theatre, literature and art, too. A changing global economy and the disintegration of the USSR has weakened Left forces in recent decades.

One of the reasons why in recent years more and more Hindus have embraced Neo-Hindutva is the real question to be addressed, here. To my understanding, this question is fundamental because the attack on rationality and ever-increasing receptivity of the falsehood and of the distorted history is linked with this issue. This leads us to another question, how did we deal with the Muslim communalism, in the colonial era as well as in post-independence era?

What proportion of the Muslim literati looked at India’s ancient past with desirable and reasonable pride? Why did Shibli feel more agitated to write in defence of Aurangzeb? Why did he write biographies only of Muslims – non-Indian, Arab-Muslims at that? What proportion of Muslim elites are self-critical? To what extent do they look critically upon the ideas, institutions and history-making individuals of Muslims? What made a section of Muslim elites run a narrative of venerating Aurangzeb as Zinda Pir, and adding the suffix of rahmatullah alaih too?

An honest answer to those questions may help us find one of the missing answers for the first question I raised here as to why more and more Hindus have been embracing majoritarianism in recent decades.

The vilification and/or “villainisation” of Medieval Muslim rulers by Hindu majoritarian and reactionary forces, by stating half-truths, or putting out facts in a distorted manners, is just one problem! What is the obverse side of this problem? Why do a section of Muslims of today feel so very compelled to defend and justify and eulogize only a certain kind of Muslim rulers?  Omission of the story of valiant resistance and confrontation of British colonialism by Tipu Sultan is an obvious problem. The latest NCERT edition has omitted Tipu. A valid resistance to this politics does require that certain facts about Hyder-Tipu rule should not be ignored or omitted by secularists too. The Moplah-Nair “communal” conflict has an agrarian history of land ownership as to whose ownership preceded whose, before and after Hyder-Tipu rule? D N Dhanagre (Past and Present, OUP, vol. 74, 1977) has written about this. Quite a secular historian. Yet, that fact, uncomfortable for Muslims and Liberals and Left, has been obviously overlooked. Ignoring these aspects of history not just makes us intellectually dishonest, it also thereby weakens the legitimacy of our resistance. And that is how we self-restrict building a solidarity for our cause. We have to rethink and introspect.

I recall having read a long interview of Intezar Husain, with Umar Memon (July 1974), published in the early 1970s. (English rendering carried in the Journal of South Asian Literature, 1983). Intezar reminded us Muslims that, in comparison with the Hindus, our attitudes vary. This variation hasn’t been addressed as adequately as required. That has contributed to communalisation and pushing the country rightward.

Our discriminatory and dishonest treatment of both communalisms might be one of the factors why Hindutva has been gaining greater acceptance among growing number of Hindus?

I would therefore seek your permission to make you a bit uncomfortable at least in the last segment of this talk, if not intermittently throughout the talk.

Intezar argued that Shibli Nomani “continually romanticised our history, but there were some other aspects of our history which he didn’t describe at all”. Nirad Chaudhuri’s Continent of Circe, “dealt with the history of India and analysed the Hindu community in an uncompromising and even brutal manner”. “The Muslim community has taken great pride in the fact that the philosophy of history was born among Muslims. But the fact is that these Muslims do not face their history squarely, but merely picked out its good features and then celebrated these as the entire whole of our history. Nirad Chaudhuri’s approach is completely the opposite since he has no wish to “celebrate” the history of the nation of which he is one individual. We see him striving to reach its essence and to present that essence without regard to how his own people would react to it”, argued Intezar Husain.

Now, my question is this: why when such issues were raised in the 1970s, did they remain unaddressed (or inadequately) addressed as before? Addressing these questions may help us understand, at least partly, why more and more Hindus have begun to hate Muslims incrementally.

I have already referred to Syed Anwar Ali’s Urdu book Hindustan Mein Islam. This could be a case study to measure the Muslim right wing’s way of looking at post-Independent Indian History (and their political intent too) Anwar was a faculty at AMU.

As the Hindu right wing has engaged more in vilifying Muslim rulers in general, they appear to be less interested with the Muslim right wing’s knowledge production in India. The day they take this up, things would become even more difficult in terms of building solidarity and resistance against Neo-Hindutva.

Leaving this at that, let us come around the issue of Partition. The subject has been taught through the prism of causes, not on consequences. Why? Because, causation is motivated with the idea of blaming someone and absolving others. In this case, since the League asked for Pakistan and got it, it has to share greater blame. Nonetheless, in such a restricted or selective teaching of the causes behind Partition, Muslims and Muslim League are hardly distinguished from each other, even in among some of liberal circles.

Why is it that stories and narratives of Muslim resistance to Partition remain under-explored, under-prescribed and under-popularised? Why do a good number of educated Muslims of India still rejoice in a historical literature which absolves Jinnah and his League? I leave this question for certain sections of the Muslim educated elite of India: to undertake an honest self-introspection on this count too.

Following two works of Muslim writers are very significant in the genre of anti-League Partition literature.

Syed Tufail Ahmad Manglori’s 1946 book, Musalmanon Ka Raushan Mustaqbil, got translated into English in 1994 only. Similar literature, such as Hifzur Rahman Seohaarvi’s 1945 book, Tehreek-e-Pakistan Par Ek Nazar, remain least known. Does this mean that in academic circles as well as in the popular domain, anti-League Muslims remain lesser known? How many of the Muslim literati really talk about such figures and such writing? I have spent over three decades as student and as teacher in AMU. Few years back, when I was addressing an AMU gathering, on Tufail Manglori (Manglauri), the founder of the City School and shared that he was an ace wicket keeper of the MAO College Cricket team, the information was received by a large audience with surprise. Very few knew about this. A good number of Muslims do remember Seohaarvi as an ex-MP but his anti-League book, Tehreek-e-Pakistan is hardly known even among the literati or the chatterati.

Mushir-ul-Haq (1933-1990) has demonstrated it very well in his 1972 essay, “Secularism? No; Secular State? Well- Yes”. In this essay Haq highlighted a contradiction in the approach of some Muslim leaders. He observed that while they might publicly criticise “secularism” as a concept, they would simultaneously defend the “secular state” and the constitutional protections it afforded them, such as minority rights and the freedom to manage their own religious and educational institutions. He pointed out that this stance could appear to be a form of double standards.

With this, the point I am trying to emphasise here is: in order to strengthen the fight against Neo- Hindutva and in order to strengthen the hands of the likes of Yogendra Yadavas, Apoorvanands, Harsh Manders, Ravish Kumars, Ruchika Sharmas, we ought to resolve that critiquing and exposing the Muslim right wing should not be the business best ignored by thought-leaders, opinion-writers, academics, public intellectuals bearing Muslim names. They must not shy away from this urgent task. They must not keep arguing to the tune that ‘this is not the right time for burdening Muslims of India’ with such a task. For too long we have made such a fallacious and counterproductive argument. This is one of the many factors having contributed to the rise of Neo-Hindutva. The projects of communalising the textbooks, the state and the society have been gaining strength with the way we have been arguing, “this is not the right time to critique, expose and resist the Muslim conservatives and right wing ……’

Do we really even realise the depth of the threat?

I am very sorry to say the answer to this question is not in the affirmative. I am saying this with the unique experience of working with and living on a Muslim majority campus. This is a pessimism coming from me who in his own self-assessment is not someone who gives up on anything easily.

Before I leave, I must clarify what Neo Hindutva is:

The term “Neo-Hindutva” is a relatively recent academic and journalistic concept used to describe the evolution and new expressions of Hindu nationalism in contemporary India, popularised by scholars such as Edward Anderson and Arkotong Longkumer in a 2018 special issue of the journal Contemporary South Asia and an earlier 2015 article, which is, “idiosyncratic expressions of Hindu nationalism which operate outside of the institutional and ideological framework of the Sangh Parivar”, quite distinct from  the modernisation of Hinduism by figures like Swami Vivekananda in the late 19th century.

Neo-Hindutva is defined as a more diffused, mainstreamed, and adaptable version of traditional Hindutva. Unlike the original ideology formulated by Vinayak Damodar Savarkar in 1923, which was explicitly a political theory of Hindu nationhood, Neo-Hindutva is characterised by its ability to permeate new spaces and take on various forms.

Key characteristics that distinguish Neo-Hindutva from its traditional counterpart include:

• Mainstreaming and Normalisation: It is no longer confined to the institutional and ideological boundaries of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) and its affiliates (the Sangh Parivar). Instead, it has become a normalised, everyday discourse that is seen in popular culture, social media, and even in spaces like yoga and spiritual movements.
• Focus on Development and Neoliberalism: Unlike traditional Hindutva, which was often viewed as separate from economic policy, Neo-Hindutva has been linked to a specific brand of neo-liberalism. It often frames economic progress and material prosperity as a result of and a prerequisite for Hindu assertion. This ties national pride and economic growth together.
• “Hard” vs. “Soft” Expressions: Scholars like Anderson categorize Neo-Hindutva into two types: Hard Neo-Hindutva: This includes groups and movements that are openly connected to Hindu nationalism but operate outside the direct control of the Sangh Parivar, often with a more militant or vigilante approach. Soft Neo-Hindutva: This is a more subtle and concealed form, often avoiding explicit links to majoritarian politics. It operates through think tanks, international organisations, and cultural groups that promote a Hindu identity and narrative under the guise of cultural preservation, charity, or community building.
• Appeal to new constituencies: Neo-Hindutva has expanded its appeal beyond the traditional upper-caste support base by incorporating and co-opting the aspirations of lower-caste groups and Adivasi (tribal) communities, often by offering them a space within a broader, unified Hindu identity.

Thank you for the patience in listening to my discomfiting words!

(The author presented this view on August 4, 2025 at a symposium held at the Constitution Club of India, New Delhi, topic Distortions in the Syllabus of History Books; the presentation sent to us by the author has been suitably edited for publication)

[1] Brazilian educator, Paulo Freire written in Portuguese between 1967 and 1968.

[2] Assistant Professor of History and Endowed Professor of Israel/Palestine   in the Program for Jewish Studies at the University of Colorado Boulder

[3]  2008 comic novel by the Pakistani writer Mohammed Hanif. It is based on the 1988 aircraft crash that killed Muhammad Zia-ul-Haq, the sixth president of Pakistan.

The post Distortions in the syllabus of history books, an uncomfortable perspective appeared first on SabrangIndia.

From the introduction of the National Education Policy 2020 to the revision of university curriculums, India’s academia is voicing great concern about manipulation of learning for political gains.

States like Gujarat have already introduced cow research institutes that talk about traditional uses of cow milk, urine and dung. Universities with strong student union bodies have also been at odds with their own students. Even more worrying is the sudden replacement of Dalit, Adivasi and women’s voices with a greater focus on ‘Hindu culture’ in social science courses.

Within the last three months, Indian syllabus across universities has gone through some controversial changes. Some of these changes are as follows:

Jai Prakash University removes namesake from political science syllabus

Irony abounds as Bihar’s Jai Prakash University (JPU) in Chapra decides to remove socialist leader and freedom fighter Jayaprakash Narayan from the political science syllabus. Chapra is also the native land of Narayan. Further, other leaders like Ram Manohar Lohia, Bal Gangadhar Tilak, Raja Ram Mohan Roy, M.N. Roy and others were also removed from the postgraduate course.

However, the exclusion of the “Hero of Quit India Movement” has angered many, not the least of which include Chief Minister Nitish Kumar and Lalu Prasad Yadav. According to The Telegraph, student organisations also protested in defiance of the move. The leaders have now been replaced by other freedom fighters like Deendayal Upadhyaya, Subhas Chandra Bose and Mahatma Jyotiba Phule.

Delhi University and exclusion of widely-acclaimed women writers

Teachers from the institution’s English literature department have had no qualms about expressing their ire on the sudden exclusion of writers, Bama, Sukirtharani and Mahasweta Devi. Experts condemned how the enforcement of the Oversight Committee’s recommendation bypassed and violated the democratic process of syllabus-making. Most recently, teachers circulated a statement decrying the exclusion of the texts. Bama and Sukirtharani provided voices of Dalit women from Tamil Nadu through their poems and stories. Meanwhile, Bengali activist Devi’s short story Draupadi talked about the woes of a tribal woman. Groups like the Dalit Intellectual Collective have demanded the reinstatement of the texts along with apologies to the three writers.

JNU introduces ‘jihadi terrorism’ course

Delhi’s Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) introduced a new course on terrorism that describes “jihadi terrorism” as the only “fundamentalist-religious inspired terrorism”. The news sparked criticism from many experts about the ‘communal’ tone to the course. However, Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan complimented Vice Chancellor M. Jagadesh Kumar for sanctioning the course.

Pradhan argued that the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT) offers a similar course on terrorism and that such courses should be encouraged in academia. However, like the DU incident, Kumar allegedly brought in this course without due consultation of JNU’s academic bodies.

Further, the aforementioned MIT courses take a general overview of recent political science literature to understand why non-state elements such as terrorists resort to violence. The JNU counterpart allegedly follows an Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) ideology.

Calcutta HC orders tells VBU students, no protest within 50 mts of campus

Visva Bharati University (VBU) students, demonstrating against the expulsion of three students, were told by the High Court on September 3 not to protest within 50 meters of campus grounds. The students were also told to end their agitation outside the residence of the Vice Chancellor. However, the student body said they will continue their protests elsewhere to support the three students who were punished for participating in a campus protest in January 2020.

According to Newsclick, the VBU administration has changed its attitude since the RSS took over and the “saffronisation” of the institution began.

Communalised approached of the UGC history syllabus

Historians from the Aligarh Muslim University (AMU) and the JNU alike criticised the University Grants Commission (UGC) in August for its new curriculum framework for undergraduate studies in history. Experts called the new syllabus that moved away from a “historian based approach.”

According to the Times of India, experts condemned the omissions of important historical periods and their replacement with mythology. Further, renowned scholars such Irfan Habib and RS Sharma have been dropped from the curriculum along with literature on Mughals, women and caste.

The first paper of the course, the ‘Idea of Bharat’ also hints at an excessive focus on Hindu culture by talking about Hindu civilisation in the ancient period and completely omitting the medieval period that includes the Mughal empire. Decrying this biased approach, historians have been demanding the total scrapping of the syllabus since its introduction in June.

BHU’s course on Hinduism

The Banaras Hindu University (BHU) will soon launch a Hinduism degree course wherein students will learn about ancient knowledge, tradition, art such as ancient trading activities, architecture, weapons, tools used by great Indian emperors.

The Sanskrit department will plan practical aspects of scriptures, Vedas and ancient inscriptions through mantras. However, the course will be conducted by the Philosophy department. Course-markers claimed that the goal is to attract foreign students interested in studying Hinduism.

However, the course does not extend to other forms of religion in a culturally diverse country like India. In fact, BHU states it will be the first degree course of Hinduism. Earlier, the Himachal University offered a diploma course for the same.

Related:

OC has violated the democratic process of syllabus-making: DU teachers
India will remember Gail Omvedt forever
51 Reasons to say goodbye to NEP 2020: AIFRTE
NCPCR suggests extending RTE to all minority institutions

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The draft syllabus of BA (Hons) English literature was already formed in a most democratic manner prior to the “mala fide” interventions of the Oversight Committee, said multiple department professors of the Delhi University (DU) in a public statement circulated recently.

On September 3, 2021, members of sub-committees responsible for the English syllabus and other professors, circulated an open letter condemning the deletion of Bengali writer Mahasweta Devi’s Draupadi, Tamil Dalit writer Bama’s Sangati as well as Sukirtharani’s two poems Debt and My Body. The letter, undersigned by 115 DU teachers, said these texts congeal caste and gender oppression with that of patriarchal state violence.

In it, members said, “The Oversight Committee [OC] single-handedly seeks to destroy a syllabus that has been put together after years of careful discussion and debate, where democratically elected committees have chosen democratically diverse texts that seek to represent all sections of society.”

Responding to the August 26 press release of the institution, teachers said the OC flagrantly violated and bypassed the entire democratic process. They demanded the immediate reinstatement of Mahasweta Devi, Bama and Sukirtharani texts in the Core Women’s Writing Paper of semester 5.

“We also demand that the Oversight Committee should immediately pass the syllabus for Semester 6 (without any changes) rather than starting the process just before the commencement of the next semester,” said the letter.

Teachers spoke about how the department has suffered a lack of official syllabus every semester since July 2019 due to the intervention of the OC. However, this year the DU notified the English Honours syllabus, including all the proposed Discipline Specific Elective papers, 44 days after the fifth semester began. Further, the authorities used the Emergency powers of the Vice Chancellor for an academic matter.

“Since the Delhi University Press Release has been issued “for the information of all concerned” we feel it is imperative for us to put in the public domain that the English Department has repeatedly put on record that it is unwilling to make changes in the Women’s Writing paper,” said the press release.

When the deletion of the concerned texts was first recommended, the English Department, mandated by members of the syllabus committees, wrote to the OC twice to explain academic and pedagogic reasons for the inclusion of the texts. However, far from retaining the texts, the OC allegedly refused to include any story by Mahasweta Devi.

“The HOD’s final agreement was obtained through what we believe is coercion, that too without necessary endorsement from syllabus subcommittees or more importantly, the GBM of English teachers which initiated the democratic syllabus making in the first place, completely negating the claim that the syllabus was finalized after due deliberations with and the recommendations of the Head, Department of English,” the English teachers said.

Teachers also condemned the claims that the finalised syllabus was posted on the DU website on August 26, when in fact the OC was yet to replace Bama and Sukirtharani poems to complete the poetry sub unit. Members also expressed shock at DU’s statement that diversity and inclusion can be done without consideration of religion, caste and creed.

Additionally, the open statement pointed out that the use of terminology like ‘language course’ and the ignorance of what constitutes literary studies is directly responsible for the unacademic decisions taken by the Oversight Committee.

In their statement, teachers asked, “Those [writers] that have been excluded are already members of a historically excluded community. The voices that have been throttled are those of Dalit and non-Dalit women writers writing about Dalit/tribal women. What else could be less inclusive than excluding these powerful Women narratives?”

Teachers emphasised that the DU syllabus includes diverse texts and readings to sensitise students to social issues through stories, poems, plays and essays. The goal is to take students out of their comfort zone and make them think critically. As such, they demanded the immediate inclusion of the aforementioned texts in English literature courses.

Related:

DU should apologise to Bama, Sukirtharani and Mahesweta Devi: Dalit Intellectual Collective
Censorship in learning tarnishes India’s international image: DTF member Dhusiya
From ripples to waves: Experts discuss the power of Dalit literature
51 Reasons to say goodbye to NEP 2020: AIFRTE

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Akhil Bharatiya Vidyarthi Parishad (ABVP), the student wing of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), protested in Delhi University against the inclusion of “objectionable material on the RSS” that portrayed them in a bad light. Terming some of the content of the syllabus of history, political science, English and sociology desciplines as “anti-RSS”, ABVP staged a violent protest outside the Vice Regal lodge during the academic council meeting on July 16. Of the things the protesters found “objectionable”, “anti-RSS” and that “portrayed the Indian culture in a bad light” is a short story by Shilpa Paralkar called “Maniben alias Bibijaan” which is based on the Gujarat Riots and papers entitled “Literature in Caste” and “Interrogating Queerness”.

Below is the full text of the short story by Shilpa Paralkar.

Manu stared at his wife of three weeks. “Are you crazy?” Sejal refused to be cowed down. “If you don’t believe me, come home in the afternoon and see for yourself.” Manu smote his forehead and looked heavenwards for help. They were standing at the bus stop. Luckily, at this time of day, there weren’t too many people around.

He spoke clearly and slowly, as if speaking to one of his particularly slow students. “Are you trying to tell me that my mother… Maniben Parekh, who’s 62 years old, who’s been a widow for the last 30 years and who hasn’t stepped out of the house for God knows how many years, is entertaining a man in the house every afternoon?”

“Yes.”

Manu shook his head in disbelief at his wife’s wiles. “Look, Sejal,” he tried to reason with her, “I told you that we would go on a honeymoon as soon as I can afford it.”

“He calls her Bibijaan. Every Thursday afternoon, she makes sheer kurma. And she doesn’t give me any.”

“You mean he’s a…?”

“Yes.”

A triumphant Sejal hefted her bag and leaned more assuredly against the railing. She knew she had her husband’s attention now. Manu, the young and promising secretary of the Gujarat Yuvak Bajrang Dal, looked like he had been whacked across the face with a folded parasol.

“You aren’t joking?” Manu’s voice was weak and hoarse, but hopeful. Sejal shook her head and was about to reveal some more details about his mother’s afternoon escapades when Manu stopped her with a desperate gesture. He looked around for a quiet place to sit down. He needed to think. By himself. Without Sejal’s smirking face crowding his thoughts.

Manu Parekh taught ninth standard elementary physics at the Shishugriha Vidyalaya in Ahmedabad. Not a particularly bright young man, he was nevertheless a reasonably popular teacher. His neatly parted black hair, ascetic features and polite voice never failed to make an impression on the parents of his students. And this was also why they sent their children to him for ‘tuition’, and not to the gruff, pock-marked and impatient Joshi Sir.

Joshi was far more intelligent and a much better teacher, but it was Manu who made the extra 400 rupees every month. Teaching Boyle’s Law and Archimedes’ Principle to coy, simpering 13-year-olds who giggled at everything he said, even as his mother frowned at them from behind the kitchen door.

Manu’s mother frowned at everything. She frowned while lighting the lamp in front of her dead husband’s photograph every evening. She frowned at the milkman who always managed to spill a few drops outside the door. She frowned at the neighbour’s children who ran up and down the common corridor, rattling the shaky window frames with their fingers.

So when Manu walked into the house on the evening of March 3, 2002, carrying a largish brown box, she looked at his feet and frowned.
“Your chappal is broken. Why didn’t you get it mended on the way?”

“Huh? Oh, yes.” Manu looked around for a place to put down the box. His mother, still frowning, cleared away her sewing and watched impassively as her son pulled up the cardboard flaps, lifted out a television set and put it on the bed.

She peered at it for some time and then shuffled into the kitchen to look to her kadi. That night, as she gathered the washing, she noticed that the brown shirt Manu had been wearing that day had a long, black, sooty smear down the left sleeve. It came off on her thumb, and she frowned.

The next day, the milkman did not come. Manu stayed home. So did a lot of people from the chawl. There was much whispering in the corridors, punctuated by bursts of raucous laughter. Young boys would suddenly run out of the chawl and just as suddenly rush back in. A blackboard with some digits had been put up on the ground floor. And the numbers kept rising through the day.

Every now and then, Manu’s friends from the chawl dropped in to see the television set. As his mother watched disapprovingly, they nudged and backslapped Manu, who revelled in their admiration. After Manu had gone out with his friends, his mother finally mustered up enough courage to switch on the TV set.

The screen flickered for a few seconds and then the face of an old Muslim man about the same age as Manu’s mother filled the screen. He was in the traditional Muslim cap and was weeping bitterly.

Manu’s mother frowned and tried to change the channel. But the Muslim fellow wouldn’t go away. A little perturbed, but not too much, Manu’s mother switched the TV off and went into the kitchen to cook. When she switched the TV on again in the afternoon, the Muslim man was still there, crying. She sat down on the bed, puzzled.

After a while, the man stopped weeping and looked up. “I’m thirsty. Can you give me a glass of water?”

Manu’s mother simply stared at him. He burst into tears again, mumbling incoherently about ingrates who took TV sets from his shop but denied him water. Manu’s mother got up, closed the two windows that opened into the corridor and then handed him water in the cup she reserved for Damu, the chawl’s odd-jobs man.

When the man handed back the cup with some water still in it, Manu’s mother pursed her lips. “Drink it up. I don’t like to waste water.”

“Sorry,” the man said with streaming eyes, “I always left some for Nafisa. She insisted on drinking water from my glass… My granddaughter. Nafisa. She was five. I had taken her along to my shop. Ya Allah, will He ever forgive me?” And he started crying again.
Manu’s mother frowned.

“You cry too much for a man.”

“Bibijaan, you would cry too if you had seen what they did. They came with lists and kerosene cans. I begged and pleaded, but they destroyed my TV shop, looted it, then locked Nafisa and me in the back room and set us on fire. I screamed. How I begged, ‘Let my grandchild go. Take everything, but let her go.’ But they only laughed. And Bibijaan, they even fought with each other over who would take the bigger TV sets.”
Manu’s mother was silent. Then she said: “Don’t call me Bibijaan.”

The man wiped his runny nose on his sleeve.

“OK, I won’t.”

In the evening, as usual, Manu came back and watched the news, MTV and a bit of Star Plus.

The next day, after he had left with his friends, Manu’s mother switched on the TV set. The Muslim man was reading the Quran. “Salaam Walekum. Shall I read it out loud?”

Manu’s mother frowned.

“OK, OK,” the man said quickly. “I won’t. Don’t switch it off.”

There was an awkward silence. To fill it up, the man leaned forward and cleared his throat.

“Shall I tell you about my family, then? How my forefathers settled down in Porbandar and started their business…”

Manu’s mother was intrigued. Her parents were also from Porbandar. She had grown up there. She had spent a happy, idyllic fourteen years there before coming to Ahmedabad to stay with Manu’s father’s family. She had never liked Ahmedabad. Not then, not now. These days, standing in her dark kitchen, she found herself thinking more and more about her maternal home in Porbandar. The open courtyard. The crooked neem tree. The swing made from her grandmother’s blue and pink checked godadi.
 
The next day, Manu’s mother found herself telling the Muslim man about Rama, her eldest sister, who had jumped into the well on Dhanteras day. Ever since, Manu’s mother had wept silently on every Diwali. And she had been bitterly disappointed when the only child she ever had turned out to be a son. She had wanted to name him Ram, but the family she had been married into did not believe in listening to daughters-in-law.

When Manu came home that evening, he was in a belligerent mood. “I’m going on a trip with my friends. I don’t know when I shall be back. Could be a few weeks.” His mother merely nodded and went into the kitchen. Manu frowned, looking uncannily like his mother for those few seconds, and then went back to watching Who dares wins.

Over the next few days, Manu’s mother and the Muslim man unravelled a lot of memories together.

“Did I tell you about the time my Abbajaan caught his third wife slipping love notes to the butcher on a mince-stained newspaper?”

“Hey Ram. What a scandalous family yours seems to be. Meat-eaters, and now an adulteress too. But wait till you hear the story about my great-grandfather and the English mem who travelled all alone on a big ship to meet him.”

“This? I got this when I fell down from Uncle’s roof. Uttarayan, of course. Thirteen stitches. And Ammi didn’t talk to her brother for months after that.”

“You know, there was this Muslim family who lived down the lane. Whenever my sister and I walked past their house on our way to the temple, she would unfailingly throw stones over their compound wall.”

“Ya Allah, was that really you? How plump you were — how many litres of ghee did your parents feed you every day? That was Rama, wasn’t it? See, I could tell without you pointing her out.”

“When I was eight, I was determined to marry Gandhiji. I used to write him long letters in my mind.”

“I wanted to be a boxer. But Abbajaan forbade it. And just to make sure I didn’t ever bring up the topic again, he sent me off on Haj. That was the end of my boxing dreams.”

“I wanted my son to be a professor, but he’s become a schoolteacher. I suppose one should be grateful for what one gets.”

“I miss eating sheer kurma. Will you? Really?”

One day, the Muslim man hesitantly broached the topic. “You do know what’s happening outside, don’t you? That your son is part of…” Manu’s mother stiffened and looked away. Her eyes filled with terrible shadows and her fingers plucked at the hem of her sari.

After a long time, she shook her head resolutely. “No, I don’t know.”

“But…”

The Muslim was torn between venting his anger at her deliberate obtuseness and not causing her more pain. Finally, to ease his indecision, he asked her for a glass of water. When he was about to drain the glass, she stopped him with a look.

“Keep some for Nafisa.”

He broke down at that. So did she. Not noisily, like him, but with gentle harrumphing noises. Two sobs, one snort, two sobs, one snort… reminding him of the ponies in Law Garden, where he used to take Nafisa for rides, and the funny, gassy sounds they used to make. He laughed out loud despite his tears.

And decided never to mention it again.

Two other topics were not touched upon. One was Manu’s father, and the other was the Muslim man’s wife.

When Manu returned from wherever it was that he had gone to, he was a little puzzled at his mother’s behaviour. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was not the same. He struggled to figure out what it could be.

And then he noticed it quite by accident. One evening, he jogged her arm accidentally and spilt some tea on her sari. She got him another cup and sat as usual on the bed, sewing. Idly, he ran his eyes over her sari, trying to trace the tea stains, when it struck him — her sari had little prints over it. He looked closely. They were mango-shaped and pale blue in colour. Not very noticeable, but he had never known her to wear anything other than pure white saris.

Again and again, his eyes returned to his mother’s sari. It wasn’t just the prints. He was sure of it now: something else was different. Puzzled, he looked around their small room, mentally ticking things off. The walls seemed to be OK. Also the cupboard. The bed was the same. The TV was in its place, too. It struck him only after he’d finished his tea. When he had spilt tea on her sari, she hadn’t frowned at all.

Since she was in a good mood, Manu decided this was as good a time as any to tell her. “I’m thinking of getting married.”

“To whom?”

“My shakha pramukh’s niece. Her name is Sejal Patel.” And in anticipation of her frown, he rushed on, “They are Vaishnavas too.”

“Does she work?”

“She helps organise all the shakha meets. Arranges for the pamphlet printing… things like that. But don’t worry, she knows that she will have to help you around the house.”

“And after she finishes the housework, will she go out to work or will she be home all day?”

“Well, she won’t go out unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“So she will be home most of the time?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t the house too small?”

Manu blinked in surprise.

“Too small? But… nothing can be done about that.”

Manu’s mother put aside her sewing and sighed.

“You’re right… nothing can be done about that. Well, I suppose the four of us will just have to manage.”

Manu watched his mother’s frail figure as she slowly walked past him into the kitchen. He hadn’t realised that she was getting so old. Now, she had forgotten how to count. Eventually, she would start forgetting names and what not.

He was suddenly glad that he had decided to get married. Poor thing. She could do with some help.

Courtesy: Indian Cultural Forum

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