AVIJIT PATHAK

Sociologist

Rahul gandhi’s recent speech on the occasion of the AICC orientation programme organised at the Sevagram Ashram in Wardha seems to suggest that he is trying to inspire the Congress cadres, and urging them to think ideologically, understand the distinction between the subtlety of Hinduism and the grossness of Hindutva, and provide a rigorous politico-cultural critique of the Sangh Parivar. In a way, this is like recalling our turbulent history, and remembering the qualitative difference between, say, Mahatma Gandhi’s experimental and creatively nuanced engagement with Hinduism and what the likes of Savarkar and Golwalkar propagated 0— Hindutva as an exclusivist and totalitarian doctrine of nationalism.

In this vicious and toxic game of majority communalism vs minority communalism, there is no winner.

At this moment of our political history when we witness a meticulously thought-out design to consolidate the hegemony of Hindutva, and anybody who critiques this project is necessarily seen with suspicion, it is important to realise that the enchanting music of religiosity (it is always liberatory) cannot be in tune with the kind of politics that spreads hatred and violence in the name of religion. For instance, I love to be enchanted time and again by the Upanishadic quest for the transcendental; Mira’s bhajan enters my soul; Sri Aurobindo’s classic The Life Divine whispers in my ears. Yet, this ‘Hindu smell’ has never prevented me from walking with Freudo-Marxist psychoanalyst Erich Fromm, Sufi mystic Jalaluddin Rumi, Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh, or Christian existentialist philosopher Paul Tillich. In a way, the music of religiosity teaches us the art of dialogue and practice of compassionate listening — the way Mahatma Gandhi, for instance, conversed with Leo Tolstoy and Sermon on the Mount; or walked with Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs and Christians with the imagination of a compassionate and oceanic idea of India, at a time when the followers of Savarkar and Jinnah — intoxicated with the divisive ideology of the ‘two-nation theory’ — were sowing the seeds of division and hatred. Hence, Rahul Gandhi’s ideological critique of Hindutva — its implicit violence, narcissism and totalitarianism — arouses our attention.

However, there are two issues which Rahul Gandhi — if he is sincere in his proposed mission to fight Hindutva — ought to think about. To begin with, it has to be realised that what blocks the creative flow of emancipatory ideas is not just political Hindutva; it is also the way Hinduism — with its heavy burden of ritualism, dictates of the priestcraft, and oppressive/hierarchical/patriarchal caste practices — manifests itself in everyday life. In modern times, Nehru with his discourse of ‘scientific temper’, and Ambedkar with his critique of ‘patriarchal Brahminism’ sought to remind us of the danger of this dead weight of past. And yet, even now know these practices are so deeply ingrained in our lives that it is not easy — particularly, for a politician — to acquire the courage to question, and imagine a refreshingly new way of looking at the world, both outer and inner. Is it the reason that even when our ‘secular’ politicians critique Hindutva, they do not want to hurt ‘Hindu sentiments’, and through diverse forms of dramaturgical practices, assure the audience that they, too, can visit temples and recall their gotras? This is like falling into the trap of the same discourse (you must show your Hindu card to succeed politically) through which the proponents of Hindutva politics have already poisoned our collective psyche. Emancipatory politics requires a kind of education that sensitises us, and gives us the confidence to realise that true religiosity is not the loud demonstration of the markers of an organised religion: mandir darshan or celebrating the iftar party in front of the television camera. Instead, it is about love, connectedness, spiritual cleansing and fusion of horizons. As politics is becoming instrumentally instrumental, and winning the elections at any cost seems to have become its primary objective, will it be possible for Rahul Gandhi to retain his patience, work hard, initiate a rigorous debate, and orient the party cadres in a way Mahatma Gandhi and Nehru would have imagined?

Second, it is also important to acknowledge that the assertion or popularisation of a totalitarian doctrine like Hindutva cannot be seen in isolation; it is deeply related to the rise of fundamentalism all over the world, be it Islamic or Christian fundamentalism. And in this subcontinent with its traumatic history of Hindu-Muslim conflict, the divisive forces are never tired of exploiting the memory of the wound, erecting the walls of separation, ghettoising our consciousness and nurturing the politics of revenge and blame game. In this vicious and toxic game of majority communalism vs minority communalism, there is no winner. Instead, we move towards collective suicide. Who understands it better than a Muslim woman in Kashmir who has to see the dead body of her young son killed in an ‘encounter’, or a Hindu father whose daughter was raped in a riot? In fact, the psychology of fundamentalism, or the politics centred on a fixed religious identity abhors civility; it is terribly patriarchal; it is inherently against women, critical thinking, spiritual practice and cosmopolitanism. It robs us of our shared concerns, like education, employment, health and social security. Hence, for our collective redemption, the communalism or fundamentalism of any kind or colour ought to be resisted with equal intensity and conviction. This requires immense courage because this is like being condemned by both the orthodox priests of mandir politics as well as the bunch of non-reflexive mullahs inclined to the Talibanisation of consciousness.

Will the Machiavellian statistics of vote-bank politics enable Rahul Gandhi to think of this transparent, honest and bold step?