anti-Muslim sentiment

How the BJP Has Changed Basics of Where It Stands Over the Decades

If we look at the manifestoes of the BJP/Jan Sangh, which were published a few years ago, readers may be surprised to find little or no continuity in the way that the party thinks. On critical issues, it has reversed its position with no explanation for the changes.

On its website, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) says: “The philosophy of Integral Humanism looks at the individual not merely as a material object but one who has a spiritual dimension. It talks of integral approach to economic development that has the individual at its core, linked to the family, the society and the nation.”

What do these words mean? What does a government and political party have to do with the spiritual dimension, and even if this is possible, how can this spiritual dimension be tapped with the usual levers available to the State? How are these words reflected in the BJP’s manifesto or in the BJP’s budgets through actionable policies? If they are, in what way are they missing from the policies of other parties?

Let us have a look at the manifestoes of the BJP/Jan Sangh, which were published by the party a few years ago. It may surprise readers to know that there is little or no continuity in the way that the party thinks and on critical issues it has reversed its position with no explanation for why.

In its 1954 manifesto, and again in 1971, the Jan Sangh resolved to limit the maximum income of all Indian citizens to Rs 2,000 per month and the minimum to Rs 100, maintaining a 20:1 ratio. It would continue working on reducing this gap till it reached 10:1, which was the ideal gap and all Indians could only have incomes inside this range based on their position. Additional income earned by individuals over this limit would be appropriated by the State for development needs “through contribution, taxation, compulsory loans and investment”.

The party would also limit the size of residential houses in cities and not allow plots of more than 1,000 square yards (someone should tell the Ambanis and Adanis this).

In 1954, it said that “tractors will be used only to break virgin soil. Their use for normal ploughing purposes will be discouraged.” This was, of course, because it was trying to protect the bull and ox from slaughter. In 1951, prohibition of cow slaughter was explained as something needed “to make the cow an economic unit of agricultural life”. In 1954, the text was more religious and called cow protection a “pious duty”.

Though it says it is today a champion of a uniform civil code, the party consistently opposed divorce and nuclear families. Its old manifestoes (1957 and 1958) say that the “joint family and indissoluble marriage have been the basis of Hindu society. Laws that alter this basis will ultimately lead to the disintegration of society. The Jan Sangh will, therefore, repeal the Hindu Marriage and Hindu Succession Acts”.

The Jan Sangh’s 1973 analysis of caste violence “reveals that in most cases the conflict is not between Harijans and caste Hindus as such, but it is between Harijans and a set of people who are in power and who also happen to belong to the upper castes”. Meaning that caste itself was not the source of the conflict.

Culturally, the party stood firmly against alcohol and sought nationwide prohibition. And it wanted English to be replaced in all spheres by local languages, and especially Hindi.

Most interestingly, the Jan Sangh said it would also repeal preventive detention laws, like the UAPA [Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act], which it said were absolutely in contradiction to individual liberty. This promise was made repeatedly in the 1950s. However, by 1967, it began to qualify the demand and said that “care will be taken to ensure that fifth columnists and disruptionist elements are not allowed to exploit the fundamental rights”. In time, the Jan Sangh and the BJP became one of the most enthusiastic champions of preventive detention.

In 1954, the party said it would repeal the first amendment to the constitution that curbed freedom of speech by imposing “reasonable restrictions”. This amendment essentially took away freedom of expression because the list of what is seen as a reasonable restriction was far too wide and broad. The Jan Sangh sensed that it was not something that could be allowed to go unchallenged. However, after 1954, this demand that the first amendment be repealed and complete freedom of speech, association and assembly be restored to Indians disappeared from the Jan Sangh manifestos without any explanation.

“Integral Humanism” is, according to the BJP constitution, the party’s “basic philosophy”. It opposes the idea of linguistic states by saying (in Lecture 3, April 24, 1965): “The first para of the Constitution ‘India that is Bharat will be a Federation of States”, i.e. Bihar Mata, Banga Mata, Punjab Mata, Kannada Mata, Tamil Mata, are all put together to make Bharat Mata. This is ridiculous. We have thought of the provinces as limbs of Bharat Mata and not as individual mothers. Therefore, our Constitution should be unitary instead of federal.” When was the last time we heard the BJP push for this?

The Jan Sangh was unable to express its majoritarianism as clearly and in as full-throated a fashion as the BJP was later able to. This was because it lacked a specific programme on the back of which to mobilise anti-Muslim sentiment, such as the campaign against the Babri Masjid. Even though the idols were smuggled into the mosque a few months before the Jan Sangh was formed, there was no reference to Ayodhya or a Ram temple there in any of the Jan Sangh manifestoes from 1951 to 1980.

Once power was secured, all the things that the Jan Sangh claimed it stood for over the decades, including its manifestoes and its “basic philosophy”, have been cast aside.

Aakar Patel is an author and columnist.

Atul Kochhar Has Learned the Hard Way That Bigotry Has Real Life Consequences

Bigots won’t let go of what they have held on to their entire lives but even if they become more careful about public utterances, some good may yet come out of our master chef’s unpalatable confection.

Even accounting for the nasty level of trolling that happens on social media, especially Twitter, celebrity chef Atul Kochhar’s attack on actor Priyanka Chopra was in startlingly poor taste. Referring to the American show ‘Quantico’, in which investigators bust a terror plot by ‘Indian nationalists’, as indicated by the discovery of rudraksha prayer beads, the chef waded in with a tweet:

“It’s sad to see that you have not respected the sentiments of Hindus who have been terrorized by Islam over 2000 years. Shame on You.”

Clearly, he was not only objecting to her participation in the show – as a fellow Hindu, one presumes – but also standing up for Hindus at large against the barbarism and terror supposedly inflicted on them for 2,000 years. The show – or more likely the 10-second excerpt that set off an online frenzy – had stung him to the quick and he felt he had to respond. At the same time, it was not enough for him to berate her – implying that as an Indian representing her country, she ought to have known better – he also got his deep-rooted anger against Muslims off his chest.

It is obvious that there is much that is wrong with this tweet apart from the counting error he graciously acknowledged in his subsequent apology – that Islam is 1,400 and not 2,000 years old. For one, the assumption that India and Hindu are synonymous. The villains in the Quantico episode were ‘Indian nationalists’ and not Hindus. Second, that we are dealing with a work of fiction. Third, that Indian public figures must stand up against a Hindu being shown as a villain in a work of fiction. If an entire community is demonised in real life or in fiction, any right thinking person should object. But to assume ‘Indian’ equals ‘Hindu’ is a narrative that Hindutva types have long wanted to reinforce in the country. While many people – and it appears Kochhar is one of them – may buy into this, it is patently wrong.

Most significant is his bilious outburst against Muslims. There is no ‘Muslim’ connection to this Quantico plot. Islamist terrorists have shown up not just in Quantico but in hundreds if not thousands of Western television shows and films. Hindi films have moved away from the stereotype of the kindly Muslim to now portraying another clichéd image, the terrorist Muslim. But the discovery of rudraksha beads, suggesting that a Hindu could be involved in a terrorist conspiracy, has little or no connection with Muslims and certainly not with the centuries-old alleged subjugation of Hindus.

All of this is of little consequence to the Kochhars of this world. In his mind, all these things must have been mixed up and, combined with resentment and prejudice, it all bubbled over. It was out before he could hold himself back – the only problem was that instead of expressing himself orally, among friends or likeminded people, he put it up on social media. And that unfortunately has real life consequences, as he has now found out.

Kochhar apologised, but the damage was done. His first apology was somewhat mealy mouthed – he seemed to be saying sorry for having got his facts about when Islam originated wrong. Social media can be very unforgiving and if it latches on to something, it doesn’t let go. The criticism against him turned into a tsunami and it didn’t help that he was running a successful, high-profile restaurant in Dubai, the vast majority of whose citizens follow the same religion that Kochhar said was “terrorising Hindus” – an irony that was pointed out swiftly by those whom he had offended. The hotel first issued a statement distancing itself from him and then, when the public pressure continued to build up, announced it was severing ties with him. What other option did it have, if it wanted to operate in Dubai?

Kochhar then announced he was apologising unreservedly to his “Muslim friends, the Islamic community and everyone I have offended”. He also asked for their forgiveness. He sounds contrite enough but this indiscretion (if it can be called that), will continue to haunt him for a long time.

pic.twitter.com/KRBFr44n0y

— Atul Kochhar (@atulkochhar) June 12, 2018

This episode will die down once the news cycle changes, but the bigger question will remain. Why did Kochhar say what he did? His tweet reflected not just a sudden thought but a deeply held conviction, or rather, prejudice. Chopra’s decision to apologise for the Quantico episode is but the trigger – for Kochhar, Islam is the religion that has subjugated Hindus for centuries. He believes that with all his heart and he has apologised for saying, not thinking, it. This view could have been imbibed at home, from friends, from his reading or indeed from the constant refrain about the cruelties of Islam, especially on Hindus in India, that we hear all around us nowadays.

After all, Kochhar must have been operating in a cosmopolitan environment in London and Dubai and may have met scores of Muslims (and others) who are perfectly sane, decent and normal people. Did he look at them – his customers, friends and colleagues – and think about what a cruel and evil bunch of people they were and how they tortured Hindus? If so, did he not feel like a hypocrite taking their dime?

Communal sentiment has always existed in India but there was a time when it was impolite to express it openly. An openly stated anti-minority position still had the capacity to shock ordinary Hindus. No longer. It would be wrong to assume that only immature bigots – delighted at the freedom (and anonymity) that social media, especially Twitter, offers – say the most outrageous things. There are many who feel empowered, in some way, to use vile language against, say, a brutalised child or an innocent, lynched man.

While there are enough people to counter that kind of despicable hate-mongering, how does one deal with the Kochhars of this world? The blowback against him was compounded by real consequences – a potential boycott of his restaurant, the cancelling of his contract by his employers – but what if he had been only based in Delhi and not Dubai? He may have still apologised, but the matter would have died down. Even the most powerful hotel chain would not have wanted to push the issue beyond a point. People have got away with much, much more here.

It’s heartening to see that there are many, in India and elsewhere, who will not countenance such blatant communalism and intolerance, but will that really make a difference? Already, the right wing is trying to present the Kochhar affair as an attack on the ‘freedom of expression’, forgetting that others have the freedom of association as well – and they may choose to boycott someone who uses his freedom of speech to spread hate against a group or community.

Will Kochhar change his fundamental views and realise that what he said was wrong and untruthful or will his learning be restricted to being more circumspect about what he utters in public? Will he – and others like him – understand that such stereotyping is wrong? Or will they carry on letting off steam in more private gatherings, while being all politically correct when they visit Dubai? It would be too much to imagine that such people will let go of what they have held on to their entire lives, but even if they become more careful about their public utterances, some good may yet come out of our master chef’s unpalatable confection.

Me, the Anti-National?

‘They’ will never be able to hijack this country, I thought in 2002, but a tiny doubt had crept up in me. That doubt has only grown.

The Champions Trophy this year saw India defeating Pakistan in its very first match, but we lost the finals to a resurgent Pakistani side. To my horror, I didn’t feel as bad as I had when we had failed to reach the finals of the 1992 world cup, which was won by Pakistan. Credit: Reuters/Babu

Farooque was a Kashmiri. He hated India. His cousin was killed by security forces while at a demonstration in Srinagar. This was 1990. We were classmates; I always took him head on for his anti-India rhetoric. Those were the times when no one minded his orotundity and our arguments, and life went on. Then came March 1992 and the cricket world cup. The determined Imran Khan and Pakistan came from behind and won the cup. I bunked college the day Pakistan won because I did not have the courage to face Farooque, who was of course ecstatic beyond words and was looking to rub salt in my wounds. I was madly in love with cricket and equally devoted to the team which had let me down – but I knew defeat was part of the game, as much as of life.

But 1992 also came with hate. The 400-year-old Babri Masjid was pulled down within four hours by kar sevaks. That become a defining moment in India’s secular history and Farooque taunted me on being the citizen of a country which could not protect the mosque from a group of rabid communalists. I was hurt but was confident that this was the handiwork of a lunatic fringe which shall never find toe space within the pluralistic and secular India I was so proud of. Again, life went on and we graduated from college. India too graduated from an innocent past and the mid-1990s saw the swift embracing of neoliberal policies. People changed and jumped classes overnight. Farooque left the country and we lost contact.

Also read: On December 6, 1992, in a Small Town in Assam

And then 2002 happened. Yes, it happened not as a year but as a moment of perfidy for the thousands of Muslims who lived in different parts of Gujarat, imagining it to be their home. I emailed a Muslim and a Hindu friend from Ahmedabad asking about their well-being. Both were copied on the same mail. The Muslim guy replied in short – “Alive” – while my Hindu friend wrote, “Ashamed to be alive”. I was thankful that I had lost touch with Farooque. The brevity of the message from my Hindu friend gave me a lot of hope. ‘They’ will never be able to hijack this country, I thought, but a tiny doubt had crept up in me. Like an insect, it sat over my being, fluttering its wings whenever the doubt was reinforced. Then came 2014 and the insect matured into a dark black stag beetle. It grew two tiny biting mandibles when Mohammad Akhlaq was lynched in 2015 and then grew bigger and bigger as it fed itself on the lynching of Junaid Khan, Majloom Ansari, Pehlu Khan and the like.

The Champions Trophy this year saw India defeating Pakistan in its very first match, but we lost the finals to a resurgent Pakistani side. To my horror, I didn’t feel as bad as I had when we had failed to reach the finals of the 1992 world cup, which was won by Pakistan. I couldn’t explain what deferred me from being sad. Sadness, like happiness, should have a reason and I was scared to face this reason. It was like a disfigured person looking at his/her face in the mirror for the very first time. Was I turning into an anti-national, like Farooque? Why would I not mind India losing to its arch rival? I assumed that the stag beetle within me was preying on my nationalism.

And that evening my phone rang with urgency. It was Farooque – after 25 years he had traced my number through a common friend. We talked for half an hour, discussing our lives and careers.

“Aur miyan, abhi bhi nationalist hee ho? (So, are you still a nationalist?)” he asked me in his usual provocative tone. I was ashamed – not because he had the reason and audacity to pose the question, but because I sidestepped his question and abstracted our conversation into something irrelevant. Irrelevance, the best disguise for survival.

The ‘Muslim Problem’ is a Symptom of Insecure Nationalism

The Sangh’s concerted campaign of anti-Muslim prejudice aims to completely marginalise the community in the public sphere.

The rise of the Sangh might have marginalised the Muslims politically and socially, but Muslims, or their issues, are disproportionately represented on the airwaves. Credit: Reuters/Anindito Mukherjee

The distinctive quality of Indian nationalism, forged during the anti-colonial struggle, was its emphasis on inclusion and progress. The aim of nationalism was not merely the attainment of freedom but the very transformation of society. This vision of nationalism, expressed in the constitution, envisaged an egalitarian society – one devoid of caste and religious antagonisms. The leading lights of our freedom movement were, no doubt, wary of the chauvinism of European nationalism, which, in its worst forms, led to wars, ethnic cleansing and genocide.

Sadly, the nationalism prevailing today would be unrecognisable to our founding fathers. Far from the high-minded ideals of our constitution, the nationalism of today is increasingly petty, paranoid and insecure. The shift from egalitarianism to majoritarianism in the character of our nationalism carries, of course, particularly dangerous consequences for minorities. We no longer aspire to transform our society, we hardly attempt to even critically examine it; all our national attention, it seems, is insidiously focused on the affairs and issues of Muslims.

The hallmark of an insecure nationalism is the dogged reluctance to countenance the nation’s real problems and inadequacies. We have the highest number of poor and illiterate people in the world, our social indicators are dire, rampant casteism still pervades all spheres of social life, gender discrimination and sexual violence are endemic, and a resurgent religious and national chauvinism threatens our individual and collective rights. However, point that out to a ‘nationalist’ and he will recoil in righteous rage, accusing you of sullying the good name of the nation. Notice the frenzied indignation that consumed us when the Snapchat CEO allegedly called us poor. Or how social activists and NGOs are routinely derided in our media, with even leading columnists dismissing them as povertarians, not to mention right wingers who instinctively suspect them of being foreign-funded fifth columnists bent on harming our image. Or the fact that of all the wrath incurred by feminists and Ambedkarites on social media, the most is dished out by self-described nationalists.

When was the last time you saw this nationalist faction participating in a protest, rally or movement against caste or gender discrimination? Every day, on average, three Dalit women are raped, two Dalits murdered and two Dalit houses burnt. But when was the last time our fire-breathing nationalistic anchors conducted a debate on rising atrocities, or systematic discrimination, against Dalits or Adivasis? Meanwhile our social media, curiously silent against caste-based injustice, frequently rants against caste-based reservations, the main instrument aimed at reversing this injustice. We might be forgiven for overlooking these small concerns relating to the people of this nation, though, considering all our energies are invested in fighting for the symbols of the nation – the flag, the anthem and, increasingly, the cow.

Much like an insecure person refuses to face his own inadequacies and instead projects them onto another person, insecure nationalists are always on the look out for others who can be branded as the bearer of all backwardness, the cause of all problems.

The issues dominating our national discourse over the past few months are testament to this phenomenon. The rise of the Sangh might have marginalised the Muslims politically and socially but ‘Muslim’ issues are now disproportionately represented on the airwaves. While wider issues of society and economy are brushed aside, Muslims increasingly find themselves under microscopic scrutiny.

Their whole way of life is dissected, analysed and critiqued on prime time on a regular basis. The burning issues in the country, it seems, are what Muslims eat, what Muslims wear, how they pray, how they divorce and so on.

While the demonisation of minorities has always been integral to the Sangh project, it has acquired increased sophistication in two respects.

First, issues of naked bigotry – such as beef, love jihad and the ‘population explosion’ of Muslims – are melded with issues reflecting legitimate concerns, such as triple talaaq and a uniform civil code. This allows the perpetuation of stereotypes to be done under a progressive garb and thus is especially useful for higher government functionaries and the media.

Second, technology now allows bigotry to be spread on an industrial scale. This includes not only social media, such as Twitter and WhatsApp, where anti-Muslim propaganda has effectively been normalised, but also the mainstream media, which has discovered the insatiable curiosity its viewers have about the affairs of Muslims.

The choice of the representatives of the Muslim community in these primetime debates is revealing. They are generally the most regressive of clerics, passed off as ‘Muslim leadership’. This makes for good drama and shouting matches, with the Muslim protagonists embodying, and thus legitimising, the worst stereotypes about Muslims – backwardness, fundamentalism and chauvinism. It is a convenient arrangement – obscure, bearded men get the celebrity they crave and channels get the ratings they desire, aside from the anchors burnishing their progressive credentials by hectoring the paid-for maulanas.

The ultimate objective of this concerted campaign, waged on various platforms, is the construction of the ‘Muslim problem’. It is meant to cement the stereotypes and normalise the prejudices about Muslims. The Muslim problem is but the flip side of our insecure nationalism – one cannot exist without the other. To keep up the delusion of the strong nation emerging under Narendra Modi, the Muslim problem provides a useful diversion, not to mention a convenient scapegoat, when the gulf between rhetoric and reality becomes especially large.

Once the existence of the ‘Muslim problem’ is accepted by large parts of society, it would then of course also need to be ‘resolved’. It was resolved through a pogrom in Gujarat, but a national solution is likely to be more subtle, whose shape we can already grasp. It involves the further marginalisation and effective disenfranchisement of the community, long advocated by Hindutva ideologues such as M.S. Golwalkar. The representation of Muslims in elected assemblies is falling across the board. The Muslim representation in the current Lok Sabha is the lowest ever, the representation in the recently elected Uttar Pradesh assembly has receded to the post-Babri riots level, in Gujarat it had plummeted under then chief minister Modi’s watch, settling at two MLAs in a total house of 182. This political marginalisation is coupled with localised violence by vigilantes, enjoying varied degrees of state support.

This concerted campaign of anti-Muslim prejudice may be conceived by the Sangh, but is perpetuated by useful followers in a supine media, driven by the iron logic of ratings, and accepted wholeheartedly by a middle class in thrall to an insecure nationalism. It now threatens to completely marginalise the Muslims in the public sphere. It is this fact that should insult a mature democracy, not an image of its flag on a doormat.

Asim Ali is at the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, Mumbai.

Sindhi Muslim Families Leave Gujarat Village After Communal Violence

While some families have returned after the village sarpanch promised them safety, several others still feel that their homes are still unsafe.

While some families have returned after the village sarpanch promised them safety, several others feel that their homes are still unsafe.

A sign welcoming people to the Hindu rashtra of Vadagam. Credit: Damayantee Dhar

Vadagam, Gujarat: Vadagam, a village in the Dhansura block, Aravalli district of North Gujarat, is home to about 1,400 households. Of these, 35 are Sindhi Muslim families (also called Sandhai, a nomadic tribe), who settled in the region years ago.

The village is heterogenous, including Brahmins, Patidars, Darbars (Kshatriyas), Dalits and Sindhi Muslims. Yet, travelling towards Vadagam from Dhansura, you cannot miss the multiple boards that read, “Hindu rashtra ke Vadagam, Dhansura, Harsol aur Talod me apka swagat hai (Welcome to Hindu rashtra’s Vadagam, Harsol and Talod)”. The boards are signed by the Vishwa Hindu Parishad and Bajrang Dal.

For years, Sindhi Muslims’ labouring skills have secured a cordial relationship between them and other residents of the village. They provide multiple services as labourers, including working in the agricultural fields of others, in stone quarries and as wood cutters and truck drivers. Even when riots shook Gujarat in 2002, affecting Vadagam, the area where the Sindhi Muslims live remained peaceful.

However, an incident on March 23 changed that dynamic, possibly forever. All 35 families, scared for their lives, decided to leave their decades-old homes and flee from Vadagam.

Like on any other day, 27-year-old Akbar, who works as a labourer, came home from work and was playing music on his tape recorder. A minor girl from the village, belonging to the Valand community, passed by his residence. According to her, Akbar harassed her as she passed.

The teenager went back and told her family this, following which around 25 people, including the girl’s family members, came to Akbar’s residence. They verbally abused Alllubhai, Akbar’s father, and beat up Akbar.

Scared after the incident, Akbar left his home to hide at his aunt’s house across the road. At around 4 pm, another group of about 20-25 people came looking for Akbar at his residence. “They kept shouting ‘Akbar ko hamare havale karo, warna bura hoga (Give Akbar to us or face the consequences)’. On not finding him they left, but only to return with a bigger crowd,” said Palekhan, a resident of the village.

“At around 8 pm, a mob of about 500 villagers from all the other communities that live in Vadagam attacked us. They had wooden staffs, swords and iron pipes,” added Palekhan.

Twelve people were injured in the attack, including 70-year-old Aminaben, Allubhai and Ismailbhai. While Allubhai and Ismailbhai were admitted to the Himmatnagar Civil Hospital for treatment, Aminaben ran for her life and couldn’t be treated immediately.

Akbar’s father with family members. Credit: Damayantee Dhar

“Most of the Sindhi Muslims who fled leaving their home took refuge in their relatives’ houses. Those who could be tracked down were found to be living in Karshanpura Kampa (Harsol), Charodi, Koba and Bhalak (Ghandhinagar), Akroli (Kaparwanj), Bavsar (Dharoi) and Bijapur,” said Hozefa Ujjaini, a human rights activist and also a member of the fact-finding committee that took up the case on April 5.

“However, 50 of these people had no place to go. They were living in a forest area called Borna Kampa in Harsol. Aminaben was one of the people who returned to the village area after the fact-finding committee convinced the trustees of a local dargah, Jamala Kamalsa, to open up their premises to these people. About 20 families have come so far, the rest are still scared, including Allubhai, Akbar’s father,” added Ujjaini.

The Sindhi Muslims of Vadagam and Nayagaon, a neighbouring village, claim that this act of violence is not an isolated incident. The fact-finding report by a team of six activists including Ujjaini also states that two years ago, two girls from the Sindhi Muslim community fell in love with men from outside their community in Vadagam and married them. The girls have been untraceable since then.

“We never heard from (20-year-old) Shabana and (28-year-old) Mallika after they got married. They never visited us, we never saw them again. We did not try to file a complaint. We don’t want to create trouble for ourselves,” said a Sindhi Muslim from Vadagam who fled with his family of six on the ill-fated day.

K.N. Damor, superintendent of police (SP), Aravalli, said, “I have been busy with the bandobast for the prime minister’s visit and don’t know much about the matter. The issue, I believe, is a feud between two communities in the village. A meeting was called by the district collector on the matter.”

“The Sindhi Muslims have been living in peace for years in these villages. Their ancestors were from Kutch, who were allowed and accepted in the village by Sangram Sinhji (a descendant of Keshavdasji Rajsinhji, a Rajput ruler and founder of the Wadagaon princely state). During the riots of 2002, Sinhji was still alive and he saw to it that their mohalla was not affected. However, things started changing post the riots of 2002. Even though the neighbourhood where Sindhi Muslims reside wasn’t affected, a maulana was killed in a neighbouring village. That sowed seeds of communal antagonism that were never resolved. That was perhaps the first blow to the historic cordial relationship between communities in Vadagam. Things started getting worse and after the death of Sinhji. Even a small family feud between Ravals and Sindhi Muslims would turn communal,” Mirkhan, a local activist who has been working with 2002 riots victim and has been acquainted with the community for a long time, told The Wire.

“Three years ago, villagers from all communities jointly objected to the azan on the loudspeaker from the local mosque, stating that their kids get scared by the sound. The loudspeaker had to be removed from the mosque. Till date, there is no azan delivered from the mosque of the village. That same year, they objected while we were taking out the tazia procession during Muharram. The villagers only relented when Sindhi Muslims agreed to take the procession through another route in the village,” he claimed.

Mob violence did not just affect only Vadagam that day. Some agitators reportedly also reached Nayagaon, a neighbouring village, and threatened Muslims there.

“Nayagaon is about 24 km away from Vadagam. That day, some 25 men from Vadagam came to our village and threatened us, telling us not to help our relatives from Vadagam. That is how we knew about the incident. They also threatened villagers from other communities and warned them against helping us or our relatives. Scared for their safety, some Sindhi Muslims of Nayagaon fled their homes the same night,” said a resident of Nayagaon who wanted to remain anonymous. Despite the threats, he had come to Vadagam looking for his relatives.

Following the incident, a team of local police reached the spot lead by a police sub inspector. Reportedly, the police asked the Sindhi Muslims to come to the police station to file a complaint. But on reaching the police station, police arrested eight Sindhi Muslims instead of taking their complaint.

Abandoned houses of Sindhi Muslims in Vadagam. Credit: Damayantee Dhar

The fact-finding report states that among arrested are Akbar and his three brothers, three from another family and Aminaben, the 70-year-old woman injured in the attack. The reports also states that Aminaben was arrested post 6:30 pm in absence of female police personnel.

The police later released four of the arrested, including Aminaben. However, Akbar and his brothers are still under arrest. Charges have been filed against them under the The Protection of Children from Sexual Offences Act, 2012.

“The police inspector of Dhansura went on leave after the incident and is yet to resume work. His absence is delaying the legal process of bailing out the four youths who are still arrested and filing an FIR against the attackers,” said Waqar Qazi, a social activist associated with the Centre for Social Justice who is working for the relief and rehabilitation of the 35 families along with the fact-finding team.

“We have submitted a memorandum to Shalini Aggarwal, the district collector of Aravalli. But as usual, no government machinery has come with any form of aid. Some religious organisations have agreed to help to set up relief camps and provide food,” stated Ujjaini. He further said that most of these Sindhi Muslims lived in shanties with tinned roofs. Only 17 household had managed to build a concrete house for themselves. On March 24, all of them left their house open and ran for their lives. Most of the houses were looted after they left.

Meanwhile, in response to the memorandum, Aggarwal called a meeting on April 17. The meeting was attended by the Aravalli deputy SP (in the absence of the SP, who was busy with arrangements for the prime minister’s visit), the block development officer of the Dhansura block and five social activists from the Samajik Nyaya Manch, a local human rights organisation. The family of the minor girl and 30 other Hindus from the village were also present.

Reportedly, the father of the minor girl stated in the meeting that the neither the family nor the Raval community want the Sindhi Muslims to be back in the village.

However, after the meeting, the Raval community agreed to live peacefully with the Sindhi Muslims. Sakrabhai Raval, a resident of Vadagam and community chief for the Ravals in the Aravalli district, told The Wire that it was a “minor incident”. “I have told all my people that we and Sindhi Muslims are like brothers,” he said.

Sakrabhai also denied knowledge any past incident when villagers stopped the azan or interrupted the tazia procession. “Who told you all this? Give me the name of the person. This is not true,” he said. He also denied that the Sindhi Muslims were attacked on March 23.

Village sarpanch Surayabhan Sinh said, “I got to know about the matter when the district collector called me for the meeting. The Sindhi Muslims did not come to me, instead they reached some NGOs and filed a memorandum with the collector. However, the matter has been resolved. We have asked the Sindhi Muslims to be back to Vadagam and they have agreed.”

The Sindhi Muslims, however, are still scared and have asked for police protection. Some of them, though, have started returning to the village on assurances from the sarpanch.

“We are traditionally nomadic people. Years ago, our ancestors trusted the villagers and settled here. Our kids were born here, grew up got married here as we made Vadagam our home. They did not just attack us and take away our homes, they took away the faith we had put in the villagers,” said Palekhan.

“We will never feel safe again in our own homes,” added a woman from the community.

From Dadri To Kansas, Countering the Politics of Hate

The beginning to countering the politics of hate lies in self-reflection, in digging deep into the everyday discourses we participate in that mark the “other” and in recognising the “other” in the “us”.

The beginning to countering the politics of hate lies in self-reflection, in digging deep into the everyday discourses we participate in that mark the “other” and in recognising the “other” in the “us”.

The killing of Kuchibhotla – an Indian in the US – is a reminder of the lynching of Mohammad Akhlaq in Dadri, Uttar Pradesh. Credit (L-R): PTI/PTI/GoFundMe/Reuters

The killing of Kuchibhotla – an Indian in the US – is a reminder of the lynching of Mohammed Akhlaq in Dadri, Uttar Pradesh. Credit (L-R): PTI/PTI/GoFundMe/Reuters

On February 22, Srinivas Kuchibhotla was out having a beer with his friend at a bar in Olathe, Kansas, when he was shot dead. According to bystanders, the shooter, Adam Purinton, a white American, had hurled racial slurs at Kuchibhotla and his friend, Alok Madasani – who was injured in the incident – and yelled “get out of my country,” before opening fire on them.

Purinton managed to flee from the scene and was apprehended five hours later after a bartender in Montana called the police. Purinton had apparently told him that he had killed two Middle Eastern men.

The shooting, now being probed by the FBI as a hate crime, depicts the anti-Muslim sentiment that has seen a surge in public discourse in the US and made up the fabric of Donald Trump’s presidential campaign. This sentiment has been further buoyed by the president’s temporary travel ban on people from several Muslim-majority countries.

This individual incident in Kansas is a reflection of the broader racist climate that has found new moral fuel in the US, although it has always been a part of the US story.

The rhetoric of “Make America great again” imagines a purity, marked by whiteness, and seeks to expunge all that threatens to contaminate this imagined sense of purity. In this imaginary, a great America is a White Christian America, cleansed from all that pollutes her and threatens her freedom.

A report from the Center for the Study of Hate and Extremism at California State University, San Bernardino, noted a significant rise in hate crime after Trump called for a ban on Muslims entering the US in the aftermath of the San Bernardino terror attack in December 2015. Noting that anti-Muslim hate crimes rose to the highest level in 2015 since the 9/11 attacks, the report went on to suggest that Trump’s anti-Muslim rhetoric could have contributed to this.

The irony of the attack, however, lies in the classic misidentification of a Hindu for a Muslim.

Having lived in the post-9/11 US, I am reminded of the racial profiling I often experienced because my brown skin led my interlocutors to the conclusion that I must be Muslim; I am reminded of the many times my first name ‘Mohan’ automatically became ‘Mohammed;’ I am reminded of the many instances of being pulled aside at passport checkpoints and I am reminded of the shootings targeting Sikhs after the 9/11 attacks.

The irony of this particular tragedy, however, is multiplied by the rising tide of anti-Muslim sentiments among Hindus in India and in the Hindu diaspora communities. The Kansas incident has occurred in the backdrop of the systematic attacks on Muslims in India since Prime Minister Narendra Modi rose to power in 2014.

The killing of Kuchibhotla – an Indian in the US – is a reminder of the lynching of Mohammed Akhlaq in Dadri, Uttar Pradesh. On September 28, 2015, Akhlaq was dragged out of his home and beaten by an angry mob following rumours of cow slaughter and beef consumption. Here too the moral basis serving the authorial voice of murder was his being a Muslim.

The anti-Muslim sentiment in the US has found strong footing among the Hindus in the US, whose narrative of the Islamic aggressors against a Hindu India gel well with Trump’s narrative of supposed Islamic aggressors against the US democracy.

These Hindus celebrate Trump’s “I love Hindu” rhetoric, feeling a sense of solidarity with Trump’s anti-Islamic exhortations, and the binaries in which he reduces the cultural lifeworld of the US. The same Hindus flock to the Indian prime minister as he promises the imaginary of a Hindu India, cleansed from the aggressions of Islamic invaders. Much like their Christian right-wing counterparts, they exert pressure on educational boards to construct specific cultural narratives that serve their reductionist agendas.

Cultural narratives are being re-written in India and in the Indian diaspora communities to foist the imaginary of a Hindu India. The fact that this imaginary operates on the foundations of “othering” must be the starting point for recognising and countering what Cherian George calls “hate spin”.

George draws our attention to the plurality and multivocality that make up religions and the ways in which these diversities are monolithically constructed into a strategic cultural narrative to mark the “insider” and the “outsider.” For instance, he points to the “Islamophobia industry” in the US that serves both economic and political agendas. The work of challenging hate crimes therefore lies in disrupting these monolithic cultural frames that serve racist hegemonic agendas, and in opening up public discursive spaces to narratives of inclusivity and social justice.

For many among the Indian diaspora that are feeling and sharing a deep sense of despair at the racialised violence in the US and its possible effects on their lives, the Kansas shooting is hopefully a humbling call to look within. For all those who rallied behind Modi’s anti-Muslim rhetoric, imagining a pure Hindu nation, the continuities from Dadri to Olathe offer a reason to pause. In this global climate of “hate spin,” interrupting the spin cycles of “othering” with an explicit call to openness is the only way toward social justice.

Seeing the connections between these events is an entry point to healing, to noting the continuities in forms of hate and the underlying principles of intolerance that feed hate. That hate is strategically catalysed to serve the goals of political actors ought to form the basis of critical vigilance of all such rhetoric. It is only with this recognition of the foundational principles of hate that we can as global communities move toward imagining other possibilities that are guided by spirits of dialogue, understanding and peace.

The fact that Kuchibhotla was wrongly identified as a Muslim is not the point. That Muslims are being singled out and targeted for attacks ought to be the broader basis of rallying against racism. Noting the rise in anti-Islamic sentiments globally ought to be the entry point for working in solidarity toward countering racism.

That the rhetoric of hate does not differentiate between its casualties ought to be a humbling moment to the recognition of the universality of vulnerability and the possibilities of dialogue across difference.

The beginning to countering the politics of hate lies in self-reflection, in digging deep into the everyday discourses we participate in that mark the “other”.

Xenophobia and religious bigotry reproduce themselves on the power of othering. Once the inside of the nation and its true citizens have been marked, boundaries are established for acting on the outsider. Strategies of identification, categorisation and segregation are deeply embedded in racialised imaginaries. Therefore, to counter these radicalised imaginaries, we must begin by recognising the humanity in the “other,” in recognising the “other” in the “us”.

Mohan J. Dutta is a professor at the National University of Singapore (NUS).