Hindu Undoings

One of religion’s best protections against extremism is a structure of authority within the faith that can ward off opportunistic visionaries and demagogues who want to mobilize the faithful for purposes that are not always full of faith. Such an overarching system of authority is lacking in both Hinduism and the Sunni Islam that predominates in South Asia. This means both are subject to the kind of politicization that can be seen within “Hindutva,” (the right-wing flank of Indian Hinduism, including the BJP) and Al Qaeda.

Religions are also more inclined to extremism when they are troubled than when they are flourishing. Many Hindus—like many Muslims—have reason to be uneasy about waves of modernization, secularization, urbanization, and what Dipankar Gupta likes to call “Westoxication,” looming as threats to religious traditions. Caste and religion are becoming increasingly separate dimensions of Hinduism, and many now see the possibility of being loyal to one but not the other. For some, caste is becoming less a reincarnated place in a divine Brahmanic hierarchy than a horizontal status marker that is subject to politics and mobility. Inter-caste resentment, conflict, and violence is rising. It is no longer uncommon for low-caste vigilantes to seek redress of grievances from higher caste oppressors, and lowcaste violence inflicted on no-caste dalits is also increasing. One very publicized case in the past year involved a community in Haryana where a group of men from the low but locally dominant “jat” caste killed five dalits for skinning a cow while it was allegedly still alive and hence to be revered. Their account had little credibility, but the truth remained stubbornly difficult to publicize. Newspapers do carry frontpage stories of ill-fated Brahmin-dalit romances that end in suicide when the respective parents disapprove. But the stories now include a sense of shame and regret on the part of the parents themselves, who would have intervened in the tragedy “if we’d only known how serious they were.”

Meanwhile, problems have emerged from India’s policy of job “reservations” for untouchables, dalits, and members of the “scheduled caste”—another euphemism inherited from the British, who started the reservations policy. While remaining at the bottom of the caste system, some have experienced considerable class mobility; now caste and class rankings may differ. Many of India’s high-caste Hindus object to the “affirmative action” afforded to dalits whose middleclass educational and economic advantages have turned them into a privileged group that remains eligible for reserved positions even though they may not need them.

Even the more conventional Hindu middle class in places like Gujarat faces major identity problems. When I inquired into why the urban middle class was a strong source of support for the BJP, the Rashtriya Swayamsewak Sangh (RSS), and other faces of Hindutva extremism rather than for the forms of tolerance and enlightenment with which the middle class is associated in the West, the answer seemed to be syllogistic. First, this is not wholly a middle class in the Western sense. It is a “shallow middle class” both quantitatively and qualitatively—one whose lower ranks lack the kind of education that is associated with the middle class in the West. Furthermore, with caste and class increasingly out of synch, real problems of identity are on the upswing. Hindutva also offers an identity kit, one that ties the individual to the grand traditions of faith, nation, and civilization through its revisionist historical claims.

Religious Politics in a Religious State

Many explanations have been offered in regard to India’s ongoing patterns of violence. Two opposing interpretations stand out—one bottom-up and the other top-down, one involving what might be termed spontaneous combustion, and the other involving political arson.

The bottom-up model of spontaneous combustion argues that when social circumstances are the equivalent of a drought-dried forest tinder box, an inferno may be generated from the underbrush. Given the circumstances among both Muslims and Hindus, it is no surprise that few areas in India have been immune to violence—especially in cities where the two communities live cheek by jowl with clenched fists at the ready. When there are so many suspicions of wrongdoing, long-time friends can suddenly become enemies, and violence feeds upon itself. Original causes of violent cycles blur, and history becomes subject to willful and revisionist construction. As a result, grievances are attributed to race, ethnicity, and religion, which are frequently mere proxies for the true causes. After examining a series of violent episodes and conducting interviews with surviving participants on both sides, the sociologist and psychoanalyst Sudhir Kakar finds a remarkable similarity between the charges that the contesting communities hurl against the other.

The top-down model of political arson is offered by political scientist Paul Brass. According to his analysis, case after case of Hindu-Muslim violence has been carefully plotted and forcefully instigated by political leaders within the Hindutva movement and the BJP. Incidents tend to occur in the run-up to important political campaigns preceding critical elections. This was not only true of the riots that followed the destruction of the Ayodha mosque in 1992, but also of the recent riots in Gujarat.

Rather than choosing between these two models or scenarios of India’s religious violence, it makes more sense to reconcile them. Even the most fire-prone circumstances can escape conflagration if there is no spark. However, there is little doubt that one form of lightning involves religion’s relationship to power. But here one must tread carefully. An important distinction lurks not only for India but for the United States and every other country.

On the one hand, religion has a rightful place in politics and would be virtually impossible to remove from the political arena. On the other hand, religion has no place in the political state itself, and secular neutrality can be secured through constitutions and other rule-defining charters such as the US First Amendment—especially its “establishment clause.” This means not only insuring that one religion does not gain established sway over others, but also that the state balances association with religion and non-religion. The government should constitute a level playing fi eld for all faiths, or lack a faith. Even if the majority rules in a democracy’s voting booth, the minority must be protected by its legal system. Many people fail to understand that both the US democratic state and its religions have thrived because they have been kept generally separate, not in spite of it.