In an era where writing oneself is sometimes associated with rebellion, journalist Aakar Patel has bravely written Our Hindu Rashtra. A harsh critique of the Hindutva policies of exclusion, violence, and hatred can be found in his book. Until November 2019, Patel served as the executive director of Amnesty International India. He believes that as the Constitution does not need to be changed, “structurally we have already arrived [at a Hindu Rashtra].”Additionally, he dispels the idea of Muslim appeasement by declaring that Muslims were denied access to the mosque “through subterfuge and outright theft” in the Babri Masjid ruling. He states that the Indian state’s authority to impose restrictions on freedom is now more significant than the freedom of its citizens, in reference to the state’s growing propensity to file sedition cases against writers, journalists, and social activists.
How did India become into the overtly authoritarian nation that it is, a Hindu Rashtra in every sense of the word? As with each such account, Aakar Patel begins his answer to this question with Partition. He appropriately starts his book with the Partition of Bengal in 1905, not India in 1947, as it was during the anti-partition movement in Bengal that “Vande Mataram, the Hindu nationalism trope, became popular as the anthem of Indian nationalism.” Additionally, he notes that at that time, “Muslims made their first formal demand for political representation as a community” and “The Muslim League was formed in 1906 in Dhaka, the capital of the new province of East Bengal and Assam.” Patel briefly examines the political events that ultimately resulted in Partition, noting that the desire for it was initially expressed in a Lala Lajpat Rai section of the book that appeared in the Tribune on December 14, 1924. Only much later, in 1940, did the Muslim League led by MA Jinnah formally declare that Muslims were a distinct nation. However, even as late as 1946, they were willing to accept the terms of the Cabinet Mission Plan and settle for a federal solution that left India undivided.
Following Partition and Independence, India’s and Pakistan’s paths diverged. Jinnah, Patel notes, “we are starting with this fundamental principle: that we are all citizens, and equal citizens, of one State.” In this speech to Pakistan’s Constituent Assembly, Jinnah outlined his vision of a nation in which every individual, regardless of “caste, colour or creed,” would be “first, second, and last, a citizen of this state with equal rights, privileges and obligations.” Then, how did Pakistan go from such a promising start to a society where the Constitution today forbids prejudice and intolerance, and individuals’ liberties are restricted by antiquated legal rules that even intrude into their personal lives? Pakistan did not begin there. “The Penal Codes of India and Pakistan are the same, even in 2020,” states Patel. “Lahori natives are just as familiar with the legal meaning of the number 144 as Chennai natives are.” For those Indians who still believe that such things cannot occur in their country, his account of how Pakistan deviated from Jinnah’s vision and the common legal foundation that the British left for both India and Pakistan to become the constitutionally inadequate nation it is now served as example for India.
According to Patel, VD Savarkar drew inspiration for Hindutva’s goals for India from Saudi Arabia and Israel. Few individuals, even those who support the Hindu Rashtra fervently, have the habit of reading its fundamental literature, written by authors like Savarkar, former leader of the RSS MS Golwalkar, and Bharatiya Jana Sangh thinker DD Upadhyaya. It is appropriate to appreciate Patel for his patient reading of them and his summary of their messages. Readers can now read, without having to comb through his collected works, that Golwalkar thought that elections should be unanimous rather than competitive, that panchayats worked best when they were run along caste lines, and that he believed that “tyranny was difficult in a Hindu Rashtra because of caste.” This final pearl of wisdom stems from the idea that Kshatriyas and Vaishyas, who stood for political and economic dominance, were under the “supervision of such selfless men as had no axe to grind: the Brahmins.”
One of its advantages is the extensive record of rulings throughout the years that have legalized and normalized Hindutva politics in India, as Our Hindu Rashtra eventually documents. The use of religious symbols and the soliciting of votes based on race, caste, community, religion, or language are prohibited by Indian election law. Although there is a greater observation of the law in the breach, what makes for interesting reading is the court’s response to these seemingly infractions. The author notes in a chapter headed “Supreme Complicity” that a noteworthy ruling from the Supreme Court states that “even promising a Hindu Rashtra to Hindu voters is not a communal appeal.”
Patel chronicles the development of these rulings, beginning with a 1964 Supreme Court decision holding that “Om” was not a religious sign. From then on, it was progressively determined that since Bal Thackeray wasn’t really talking about religion, even his fiery outbursts weren’t against secularism. When comparing the situations in India and Pakistan, it is evident that mainstreaming religious politics is having the same type of impact here that it has already had in Pakistan.
The state is currently repressing women who marry outside the community to stop “love jihad,” elevating cow worship to the status of a federally funded national endeavor and expanding the imposition of food taboos associated with specific castes and sects on the general populace with the support of the state. A helpful part in the book discusses the controversy around cow slaughter that dates to the Constituent Assembly. It also looks at Kashmir, triple talaq, and love jihad. The author’s belief that the Hindutva movement is based only on the notion that India’s minorities, particularly its Muslims, must be given their proper position seems to be the unifying theme among all of them. It is difficult to argue with Patel on this. His case is based on books authored by prominent members of the Hindutva movement as well as legal and constitutional events that have occurred in Pakistan and India over the years.
Patel loses confidence as he eventually moves past them and into his last chapter, “How to Fight It.” The author highlights the opposition to the Citizenship Amendment Act and the National Register of Citizens as what, at the time of writing, was the finest illustration of a citizens’ movement against perceived injustice. For activism, he refers to it as a “beacon and shining light.” But Patel doesn’t stop there. He characterizes the movement as being led by Muslims, completely ignoring the fact that the NRC and the agitation against CAA originated in the Northeast, where it wasn’t primarily about Muslims. This is a mistake that mainlanders of all political persuasions frequently make.
He credits Muslim mobilization for the movement’s accomplishments. He makes this statement even though the NRC was limited to Assam. He overlooks the fact that that’s also where the first anti-CAA demonstrations started. He cites a statement by the Organization of Islamic Cooperation on the subject and names Turkey, Indonesia, and Iran as nations that “publicly engaged the Indian government over the issue.” He fails to acknowledge that Bangladesh, with which India shares a 4,096-kilometer porous border, is the one whose unfavorable responses may have caused as much concern for India’s foreign policy and security departments as all the others put together. Bangladesh’s security and stability are inextricably linked to those of Northeast and East India.
The Book is written well and condenses a lot of research into a manageable book size. Readers interested in learning how their country came to be, both Indians and Pakistanis. For everyone in the subcontinent who does not encourage prejudice toward minorities, the narrative is rather distressing. However, it does impart to readers a hopeful message, adapted from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., which states that “the moral universe’s arc is long, but it bends towards justice.” But that arc does not automatically bend. It is up to us all to bend it toward justice, just as those who came before us in the battle for freedom and equality did.
Independent Researcher
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