Loktantra Bachao or Political Double Speak? Examining the BJP's Democratic Credentials

 

 There is something rather interesting about contemporary Indian politics. Political parties have discovered that democracy is a very useful word, particularly when they are trying to discredit their opponents. Every political disagreement is presented as a threat to democracy, every protest is described as an attempt to create anarchy, and every uncomfortable question is conveniently labelled as an attack on constitutional institutions. The latest example is the BJP's Loktantra Bachao, Arajakta Hatao Yatra. The stated objective may sound perfectly democratic, but it also raises a rather uncomfortable question. Can a political party claim to be the defender of democracy without being prepared to answer questions about its own record?

There is nothing wrong with organising a political march to defend democratic institutions. The Constitution guarantees freedom of speech, expression and peaceful assembly. The BJP, like every other political party, has every right to organise such a campaign. However, the moment a party assumes the responsibility of educating the country about democracy, its own conduct naturally becomes a subject of public examination. Democracy is not an exclusive political property. It does not belong to the ruling party, the Opposition or any particular ideological organisation. It belongs to the citizens of this country.

The first issue that deserves attention is political funding. On 15 February 2024, a unanimous Constitution Bench of the Supreme Court of India struck down the Electoral Bond Scheme as unconstitutional. The Court held that the anonymity associated with electoral bonds violated the right to information of voters under Article 19(1)(a) of the Constitution. The judgment was significant because political funding is not merely an internal matter of political parties. It concerns the relationship between money, political power and the democratic choices of citizens.

The BJP emerged as the largest beneficiary of electoral bond donations. This fact, by itself, does not establish that every donation was illegal or that every donor received a political favour. Such conclusions would be unfair without evidence. Nevertheless, the Supreme Court's judgment raises an important question about the BJP's understanding of transparency. A political party that defended an electoral funding mechanism subsequently declared unconstitutional by the highest court must be prepared to explain its position. It cannot demand transparency from others while treating questions about its own political funding as an inconvenience.

The second issue concerns the Special Intensive Revision of electoral rolls. The Election Commission has maintained that the exercise is necessary to identify deceased voters, duplicate entries, people who have shifted permanently and other ineligible entries. There is no reasonable argument against maintaining accurate electoral rolls. A clean voter list is essential for free and fair elections. However, the manner in which such an exercise is conducted is equally important.

Reports published in October 2026 indicated that approximately 13 crore names had been struck off draft electoral rolls during the revision exercise across 30 states and Union Territories. These figures include categories such as absent, shifted, deceased and duplicate voters. It would be incorrect to describe all these people as eligible citizens who have been deprived of their voting rights. That is not what the reported figures establish. But the scale of the exercise makes transparency and effective safeguards absolutely necessary.

The right to vote is central to representative democracy. An eligible citizen should not have to struggle endlessly with administrative procedures to establish their identity and inclusion in the electoral roll. The Election Commission must ensure that every genuine voter gets a fair opportunity to remain on the list or seek inclusion. The Opposition has every right to raise concerns, and the Election Commission has an obligation to answer them with verifiable information. Questioning an electoral process does not automatically amount to questioning the legitimacy of democracy. In fact, scrutiny is an essential part of democratic functioning.

Parliamentary accountability is another area that deserves serious reflection. In December 2023, 146 Opposition MPs were suspended during the Winter Session of Parliament. The episode followed the security breach inside Parliament on 13 December, when two individuals entered the Lok Sabha chamber and released coloured smoke. Opposition members demanded answers from the government, particularly from the Home Minister, regarding the security arrangements.

There is no argument that parliamentary discipline is unnecessary. Members of Parliament are expected to respect the rules of the House, and persistent disruption cannot become the normal method of conducting legislative business. However, the suspension of such a large number of elected representatives raises questions about the quality of parliamentary debate and executive accountability. Parliament is not merely a place where the government introduces legislation and the ruling party approves it. It is also the institution where the government is questioned, examined and held accountable. The Opposition has a constitutional and democratic responsibility to scrutinise those in power. A healthy parliamentary democracy requires both an effective government and an effective Opposition.

Political funding presents another dimension of the debate. According to the Association for Democratic Reforms, the BJP declared approximately Rs 6,074 crore in donations above Rs 20,000 for the financial year 2024 to 25, while the Congress declared approximately Rs 517 crore. These figures represent declared donations above the specified threshold and should not be confused with the total income of the political parties. Nor does the difference establish any illegality. However, the enormous disparity deserves public discussion. Political competition in a democracy should not become a contest in which financial strength alone determines the visibility and reach of political organisations. Citizens deserve to know how political parties are financed and whether the existing system provides adequate transparency.

The discussion becomes even more interesting when we turn towards Odisha. The BJP now governs both the Union Government and the State Government. The people of Odisha gave the party a mandate in the 2024 Assembly elections, ending the long period of Biju Janata Dal rule. The BJP also leads the government at the Centre. This political arrangement gives the party considerable authority and an opportunity to demonstrate what it means by coordinated governance.

But the question remains: Centre au State re tankar Sarkaar, pher bhi kahinki arajakata chalichi?

This is not simply a question of political rhetoric. It is a question about governance and accountability. When the same political party governs at both levels, citizens naturally expect better coordination, quicker administrative decisions and greater efficiency in addressing public problems. The double engine expression used during election campaigns creates expectations among voters. Those expectations cannot disappear once the elections are over.

Odisha has its own set of administrative and developmental challenges. Disaster preparedness, flood management, public health infrastructure, employment, industrial pollution, environmental protection and the quality of local civic administration require sustained attention. These are not matters that can be resolved through political speeches or accusations against previous governments. The government must demonstrate its performance through measurable outcomes. If there are failures in disaster management, the concerned departments must answer. If public health facilities remain inadequate, the government must explain what corrective measures have been taken. If environmental violations continue, the administration must act without political considerations.

The BJP cannot claim credit for the advantages of having governments at both levels while shifting responsibility whenever administrative difficulties arise. The previous government may certainly be questioned for its record, but that cannot become a permanent explanation for every failure of the present administration. A change of government also means a transfer of responsibility. People vote for a new government because they expect a different standard of governance.

There is also a larger constitutional question here. Political parties often confuse criticism of the government with criticism of the nation. This tendency is particularly damaging to democratic culture. The government is not the country, and the ruling party is not the Constitution. A citizen who questions the Prime Minister, a Chief Minister, a minister or an administrative decision is exercising a democratic right. An advocate questioning a policy, a journalist investigating public expenditure or an ordinary citizen demanding information cannot be dismissed as anti national merely because their questions are inconvenient.

The Constitution provides a framework in which power is exercised subject to limitations. It establishes institutions, distributes responsibilities and guarantees fundamental rights. The strength of a democracy is therefore not measured merely by the number of elections conducted or the size of political rallies organised. It is also measured by how comfortably those in power tolerate disagreement and how sincerely they respond to public scrutiny.

The BJP's Loktantra Bachao, Arajakta Hatao Yatra must therefore be examined in this wider context. The party is entitled to defend democracy and criticise the Opposition. But the same democratic standards must apply to its own political conduct. Electoral transparency, parliamentary accountability, institutional independence and respect for dissent cannot be selective principles. They must remain consistent regardless of which political party occupies the seat of power.

I have no difficulty with political parties organising marches to defend democracy. What I find difficult to accept is the tendency to treat democracy as a slogan that becomes relevant only when political circumstances are favourable. A government must be willing to answer questions about its policies, its expenditure, its institutions and its failures. The Opposition must also be responsible in its criticism and avoid making allegations without evidence. Democratic accountability is not a one way arrangement.

Ultimately, the people of India do not need political parties to certify their democratic credentials through processions. They need institutions that function independently, elections in which every eligible citizen can participate, a Parliament that debates important issues, and governments that accept responsibility for their decisions. The same expectations apply to the BJP, the Congress and every other political organisation.

Before asking the country to save democracy, perhaps every political party should examine how faithfully it practises democratic principles when it holds power. That is a reasonable expectation in a constitutional republic. And the BJP, having governed India for several years and now Odisha as well, cannot expect to be exempt from that examination.

The real test of democracy is not how loudly a political party speaks about it, but how willingly it accepts accountability when citizens begin asking questions.

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About the Author

Siddhartha Shankar Mishra is an Advocate practising at the Supreme Court of India and a columnist writing on law, politics, governance and contemporary social issues. He is from Sambalpur, Odisha, and writes on constitutional values, democratic institutions and public accountability.

 

Tribal Conversion to Christianity: Business or Transformation?

 

Sarna Dharma, Hinduism, Adivasi Identity, Religious Freedom and the Questions Raised by Nisha Bhagat's Death

The debate over religious conversion among India's tribal communities is neither new nor simple. It involves faith, identity, history, dignity, social justice and, at times, allegations of exploitation. But before we discuss conversion to Christianity, we must ask a more fundamental question: who are the Adivasis, what do they believe, and who has the authority to define their religious identity?

The recent death of Jharkhand tribal activist Nisha Bhagat has brought these questions into public discussion once again. Her final Facebook Live reportedly contained allegations concerning harassment, the administration and land related disputes. She had also been associated with questions surrounding tribal identity and religious conversion. The precise circumstances and responsibility for her death must be established through an impartial investigation. Her death should not become an opportunity for political or religious organisations to promote their own narratives.

Yet the questions she raised deserve serious attention.

Understanding Sarna Dharma

Sarna Dharma is an indigenous religious tradition followed by several Adivasi communities, particularly in Jharkhand, Odisha, Chhattisgarh and neighbouring regions. It is deeply connected with nature, forests, rivers, mountains, ancestors and community life.

For many followers, the Sarna sacred grove, often associated with Sal trees, is a place of worship and spiritual significance. Festivals such as Sarhul celebrate the relationship between human beings and nature. Religious knowledge is transmitted largely through oral traditions, customary practices and community institutions.

Unlike organised religions with universally accepted scriptures and central religious authorities, Sarna traditions are diverse. Different communities have their own beliefs, names for spiritual powers, rituals and customary practices.

For many Adivasis, Sarna is not merely a religious label. It represents ancestral memory, cultural continuity and a relationship with the natural world. The demand for a separate Sarna religious code in the Census is therefore not simply an administrative demand. It is also a demand for recognition of an indigenous religious identity.

Are Adivasis Hindus?

This question deserves an honest answer, not a political one.

Adivasi is primarily an indigenous and tribal identity. It is not the name of one uniform religion. Some Adivasis identify as Hindus and worship Hindu deities. Some follow Sarna traditions. Others identify as Christians, while several communities retain their own customary religious practices.

Over centuries, there has also been considerable cultural interaction between Hindu traditions and tribal communities. In some regions, tribal customs and Hindu religious practices have influenced one another. Many Adivasis themselves identify with Hinduism. Their self identification must be respected.

At the same time, it would be historically and culturally inaccurate to declare that every Adivasi is Hindu. It would be equally inaccurate to assume that every Adivasi follows Sarna Dharma.

The important point is that tribal identity and religious identity are not interchangeable. No political party, religious organisation or government should claim exclusive ownership over the identity of Adivasi communities.

The Constitution recognises Scheduled Tribes through Article 342. It does not prescribe a particular religion for them. The demand for a separate Sarna code must be understood in this wider context of cultural recognition and freedom of conscience.

Christianity and Its Arrival in India

Christianity originated in the first century CE in Judea, based on the life and teachings of Jesus Christ. Its central scripture is the Bible, and its mainstream theological understanding of one God includes the doctrine of the Trinity.

The history of Christianity in India is considerably older than European colonial rule. According to Christian tradition, the Apostle Thomas arrived on the Malabar coast around 52 CE. However, the precise date and details of this journey remain subjects of historical debate. The identity of the first Indian convert is also not established with certainty.

Christian communities existed in Kerala long before the arrival of the Portuguese. Later, European missionaries expanded organised missionary activity in different parts of India. The Portuguese arrival in 1498 and the subsequent activities of Catholic missionaries, including Francis Xavier from 1542, formed an important chapter in this history. Protestant missions expanded further during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

Missionaries established schools, hospitals, printing presses and institutions of social service. They also translated religious texts into Indian languages. These activities contributed to education and healthcare in several regions, including tribal areas.

However, the history was not free from controversy. Colonial religious policies, coercive practices and episodes such as the Goa Inquisition remain important subjects of historical criticism. It would be wrong, however, to describe the entire history of Christianity in India as either purely charitable or uniformly coercive.

History demands a more balanced assessment.

Why Do Some Adivasis Convert to Christianity?

The reasons for conversion cannot be reduced to one explanation.

For some, conversion is a matter of personal faith and spiritual conviction. For others, Christian institutions have provided access to education, healthcare and social support in areas where the state has historically failed to provide adequate services.

We must also acknowledge the historical experience of discrimination, social exclusion and economic vulnerability among marginalised communities. For some individuals, Christianity has represented dignity, equality, community support and an opportunity to challenge existing social hierarchies.

But there is another side to the debate.

Where religious organisations exploit poverty, illness, lack of education or social vulnerability to secure conversions through force, fraud or unlawful inducement, the matter deserves scrutiny. Humanitarian service must not become a cover for coercion. Equally, providing education, healthcare or relief cannot automatically be treated as evidence of an illegal conversion.

The distinction between genuine service and unlawful inducement must be established through evidence.

A person who converts voluntarily is exercising a constitutional freedom. A person who is manipulated or coerced is entitled to protection. Both principles must be defended without prejudice.

Can an Adivasi Remain Adivasi After Conversion?

This is perhaps the most contested aspect of the debate.

An Adivasi person who becomes Christian does not automatically cease to be a member of their tribal community. Religious conversion does not, by itself, erase language, ancestry, family relationships, customary identity or attachment to ancestral land.

However, conversion can create tensions within communities when religious practices conflict with traditional rituals, ancestral worship or customary institutions. These tensions should not be ignored. They deserve open discussion within Adivasi society.

The answer cannot be to deny anyone the freedom to choose a religion. Nor can it be to dismiss the concerns of those who fear the erosion of indigenous traditions.

Cultural preservation and religious freedom are not necessarily opposing principles. The challenge is to protect both.

What Does the Constitution Say?

Article 25 of the Constitution guarantees freedom of conscience and the right freely to profess, practise and propagate religion, subject to public order, morality, health and other constitutional provisions.

In Rev. Stainislaus v. State of Madhya Pradesh (1977), the Supreme Court held that the right to propagate religion does not include a fundamental right to convert another person by force, fraud or allurement.

Several states, including Odisha and Jharkhand, have legislation regulating religious conversion. Such laws must be understood and applied in accordance with constitutional guarantees. Voluntary conversion cannot be treated as a criminal act merely because someone changes their faith.

There is also widespread confusion about reservation rights. The constitutional position concerning Scheduled Tribes is different from that concerning Scheduled Castes. The Constitution (Scheduled Castes) Order, 1950 contains specific religion related restrictions for Scheduled Caste recognition. There is no equivalent general rule automatically extinguishing Scheduled Tribe status merely because a person converts to Christianity.

Eligibility for particular benefits and recognition must, of course, be assessed under the applicable legal provisions and the facts of each case.

Nisha Bhagat: Beyond Religion and Politics

The death of Nisha Bhagat should make us examine the conditions in which tribal activists work and the protection available to people who raise questions about land, identity and administrative functioning.

Her reported allegations concerning harassment, land related disputes and the administration require independent scrutiny. Did she approach the authorities? Were her complaints properly examined? Were there threats that required intervention? Did the police and administration respond adequately?

These questions must be answered through evidence, official records and a transparent investigation.

It would be irresponsible to declare that religious conversion caused her death or that a particular organisation, political party or individual was responsible without established evidence. Equally, it would be irresponsible to use uncertainty as an excuse to avoid examining her allegations.

Jharkhand is governed by a JMM led coalition under Chief Minister Hemant Soren. The state government therefore has a responsibility to ensure that tribal land rights, police protection and administrative accountability are not reduced to election slogans.

Tribal communities have constitutional protections, but those protections mean little if people cannot access justice when their land, livelihood or dignity is threatened.

Is It Faith, Transformation or Business?

The title of this article raises a difficult question. Is conversion a genuine spiritual transformation, or can it become a business built around vulnerable communities?

The honest answer is that different situations exist. Genuine religious conviction deserves respect. Humanitarian service deserves recognition. Cultural preservation deserves protection. Coercion, fraud and exploitation deserve legal action.

The same standard must apply to every religious organisation, whether Hindu, Christian, Muslim or otherwise. No organisation should be above scrutiny, and no community should be subjected to collective suspicion.

We must also resist the political tendency to turn Adivasi identity into a battlefield between religious groups. Tribal communities have their own histories, institutions, languages, struggles and aspirations. Their identity cannot be reduced to a contest over who can claim them.

Ultimately, an Adivasi should have the freedom to follow Sarna Dharma, identify as Hindu, embrace Christianity or retain another customary belief. That freedom must coexist with the right to preserve ancestral culture, protect land and live with dignity.

Nisha Bhagat deserves more than political statements and competing religious narratives. Her allegations deserve a credible investigation, and her death deserves justice.

Faith must be voluntary. Culture must be respected. Tribal land must be protected. And the state must be accountable.

India's constitutional promise is not that every citizen must believe in the same God or follow the same tradition. It is that every citizen, whatever their faith or identity, must enjoy equal dignity, freedom and protection under the law.

 

By Siddhartha Shankar Mishra, Advocate at the Supreme Court of India, and columnist on law, politics, and society.

Urban Naxal: Who Coined the Term, How It Became Political Currency and Why Dissent Matters

 

Who Are the Urban Naxals? How a Political Label Became a Weapon Against Dissent in India

Introduction

In a democracy, the government is expected to answer difficult questions with facts, arguments and explanations. Yet, in contemporary Indian politics, people who question those in power are sometimes confronted with labels that cast suspicion on their patriotism. The expression Urban Naxal has become one of the most prominent examples of this phenomenon.

The recent exchange between Union Minister Kiren Rijiju and veteran actor Naseeruddin Shah has once again brought the expression into public discussion. After Shah expressed support for students of Jamia Millia Islamia seeking the restoration of their students’ union, Rijiju described him as a dangerous urban Dimagi Naxal. Shah subsequently embraced the expression sarcastically, drawing attention to the tendency to stigmatise people who criticise the establishment.

The issue deserves examination beyond the immediate political controversy. Who popularised the expression? How did the arrests of activists in Pune in 2018 contribute to its prominence? What role did Prime Minister Narendra Modi and other BJP leaders play in bringing it into mainstream political discourse? And what does the use of this expression mean for constitutional democracy?

Who First Popularised Urban Naxal?

Tracing the expression requires distinguishing between its earliest use and its subsequent popularisation.

In May 2017, filmmaker Vivek Agnihotri published an article in Swarajya defining Urban Naxals as intellectuals, influencers and activists allegedly working to advance Maoist objectives from within urban institutions. His book, Urban Naxals: The Making of Buddha in a Traffic Jam, followed shortly afterwards.

A detailed report by Scroll.in, titled From Urban Naxal to Tukde Tukde Gang: How TV Media Trials Enable the State and Right Wing to Stifle Dissent, published in 2018, examines how the expression gained political currency. The report traces Agnihotri's role in defining and popularising the concept and explains how it entered political and television debates.

Agnihotri himself claimed to have coined the term in 2018. However, claims about its precise origin require caution because related expressions and descriptions of alleged urban Maoist networks had appeared in political discourse before then.

The important historical point is that Agnihotri played a significant role in popularising the expression in its contemporary political meaning. It subsequently became widely used by sections of the political right, television commentators and social media users.

The Pune Arrests and the Bhima Koregaon Case

The expression acquired much greater national visibility in 2018 following police action against activists in connection with the Bhima Koregaon violence in Maharashtra.

On January 1, 2018, violence occurred near Bhima Koregaon, where people had gathered to commemorate the bicentenary of the Battle of Bhima Koregaon. The police investigation subsequently focused on the Elgar Parishad event held in Pune on December 31, 2017, and alleged links between certain activists and banned Maoist organisations.

In June and August 2018, Pune police arrested several prominent individuals, including lawyers, academics, poets and human rights activists. Among those arrested were Sudhir Dhawale, Surendra Gadling, Shoma Sen, Mahesh Raut, Rona Wilson, Sudha Bharadwaj, Arun Ferreira, Vernon Gonsalves and Varavara Rao. Gautam Navlakha was also among those implicated in the proceedings.

The police alleged that certain accused individuals had connections with Maoist organisations and that the investigation uncovered evidence of a wider conspiracy. Some allegations included an alleged plot to assassinate Prime Minister Narendra Modi. The accused and their supporters disputed important aspects of the allegations, and the legal proceedings have involved contested evidence and questions about the investigation.

It is important to distinguish between an arrest, an allegation and a judicial finding. Arrests do not establish guilt, and the accusations against individual defendants must be assessed according to the evidence and applicable law.

Nevertheless, these arrests brought the expression Urban Naxal into national headlines. Sections of the media began using it to describe the accused, while political commentators extended the expression to a wider range of intellectuals and activists.

Scroll.in's contemporary report, Urban Maoists: A Bogey Is Being Raised to Criminalise Political Dissent, examined concerns that the expression was being used to associate political dissent with armed insurgency.

The controversy therefore moved beyond the criminal investigation itself. It became a debate about whether the language of national security was being used appropriately and whether the public discussion was distinguishing between evidence of unlawful activity and peaceful criticism of the government.

What Role Did Narendra Modi Play?

The popularisation of Urban Naxal cannot be attributed to one person alone. After the expression entered mainstream political discourse, senior BJP leaders and other figures associated with the wider ideological movement began using it in different contexts.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi subsequently employed the expression in political speeches. In 2019, he referred to alleged Urban Naxals while addressing students and warned against what he described as attempts to influence young people for political purposes.

In February 2022, Modi used the expression in Parliament while criticising the Congress, alleging that its thinking had been captured by Urban Naxals. In September 2023, he again accused the Congress of being run by Urban Naxals.

These statements helped carry the expression beyond the original controversy surrounding the Pune arrests. It became part of a wider political vocabulary used to criticise opponents and question the ideological motivations of individuals and organisations.

The historical record does not establish that Modi invented the phrase. It does establish that he subsequently used it in prominent political settings, contributing to its visibility in national debate.

For further context, see The Indian Express reports on the rise of Urban Naxals and the term's use in political discourse and Modi's use of the expression against the Congress.

There is also an important institutional distinction. In a parliamentary reply in March 2020, the Ministry of Home Affairs stated that the phrase Urban Naxals was not used by the ministry. The government nevertheless maintained that its policy on Left Wing Extremism covered urban activities as well.

This distinction matters because a political expression does not automatically become a defined category of criminal liability merely through repeated use by political leaders.

Is Urban Naxal a Legal Category?

The expression Urban Naxal has no independent statutory definition that makes a person criminally liable simply for being described by that label.

Indian law does address terrorism, unlawful associations, criminal conspiracy and activities connected with banned organisations. Where credible evidence indicates that someone has engaged in such conduct, the authorities may investigate and prosecute the alleged offences in accordance with law.

However, criticism of government policy, peaceful protest, academic discussion and political disagreement are not automatically equivalent to supporting armed insurgency.

Article 19(1)(a) of the Constitution guarantees citizens freedom of speech and expression, subject to the reasonable restrictions permitted under Article 19(2). These constitutional protections are essential to democratic accountability.

In Kedar Nath Singh v. State of Bihar (1962), the Supreme Court interpreted the former sedition provision in a manner connecting its application to incitement to violence or public disorder. In Shreya Singhal v. Union of India (2015), the Court struck down Section 66A of the Information Technology Act and distinguished discussion and advocacy from incitement.

These judgments do not provide immunity for unlawful conduct. They demonstrate why restrictions on expression must be assessed according to law, context and evidence rather than political labels.

As an advocate practising at the Supreme Court of India, I consider this distinction fundamental to the rule of law. National security is a legitimate concern, but allegations must be established through lawful procedures rather than assumed from a person's political beliefs or professional identity.

The Naseeruddin Shah Controversy

The recent exchange involving Kiren Rijiju and Naseeruddin Shah illustrates how the expression continues to shape political debate.

Shah's support for students demanding the restoration of their union at Jamia Millia Islamia prompted Rijiju to describe him as a dangerous urban Dimagi Naxal. The minister was entitled to disagree with the actor's position, just as Shah was entitled to express his concerns.

The more important question is whether the students' demands have been examined on their merits. What are the reasons for the delay in restoring student elections? What does the university administration say? What steps can ensure student representation while protecting academic activities and maintaining order?

These are questions that deserve substantive answers.

Shah's reputation as an actor does not make his political views infallible. Equally, disagreement with his views does not establish that he is associated with unlawful activity. If his arguments are mistaken, they can be challenged through evidence and reasoned debate.

The same principle applies to every citizen, irrespective of political affiliation.

The Danger of Labelling Dissent

A democracy must distinguish between genuine threats to national security and peaceful disagreement with the government. When the two are routinely conflated in public discussion, the consequences extend beyond the individuals directly targeted.

Journalists may become reluctant to investigate sensitive issues. Academics may hesitate to question official narratives. Students may fear that political participation will invite public vilification. Citizens may begin to believe that patriotism requires unquestioning agreement with those in power.

None of this means that every protest is justified or every activist is beyond scrutiny. Violence, intimidation and unlawful assistance to armed organisations must be addressed through fair legal procedures. The same standards should apply regardless of the accused person's ideology or political connections.

The problem arises when a label substitutes for evidence and public debate becomes a contest over who is sufficiently patriotic.

A government confident in its policies should be able to answer criticism without questioning the loyalty of everyone who disagrees with it. Public representatives have the right to defend their decisions, but they also have a responsibility to preserve the distinction between political disagreement and criminal accusation.

Conclusion

The history of Urban Naxal reveals how a phrase popularised in ideological writing acquired wider political significance through media coverage, arrests in the Bhima Koregaon case and subsequent use by prominent political leaders, including Narendra Modi.

Vivek Agnihotri played a significant role in popularising the contemporary expression. The Pune arrests in 2018 brought it into national prominence, while later political speeches helped establish it as a recurring feature of public debate.

These historical developments can be documented. Whether the label is justified in any individual case, however, must be determined through evidence and applicable law, not political assertion.

India belongs equally to citizens who support the government, those who oppose it and those who question all political establishments. Their constitutional rights do not depend on whether their opinions are convenient for those in power.

A democracy must protect national security while preserving the right to dissent. It must investigate genuine wrongdoing without treating criticism as proof of disloyalty. That balance is not a concession to any political ideology. It is a requirement of constitutional governance.

About the Author

Siddhartha Shankar Mishra is an Advocate practising at the Supreme Court of India and a columnist writing on law, politics and society.

 

Protect Hinduism from Hindutva

 

 

When Faith Becomes Propaganda and Culture Pays the Price

Hindu customs, traditions and rituals are increasingly being mocked today not because people have suddenly become more rational or more enlightened, but because politics has aggressively entered the space of faith and turned belief into daily spectacle. When religion is repeatedly used for votes, publicity and outrage, its deeper cultural and spiritual meaning begins to fade. What was once lived quietly inside families and communities is now shouted from platforms, studios and social media feeds. In this noisy transformation, sacred practices are reduced to viral clips and debating points, and reverence gives way to ridicule.

For centuries Hindu traditions survived without state patronage or political branding. They evolved through local customs, regional practices, philosophical debates and community participation. A festival in Odisha does not look the same as a festival in Tamil Nadu, and that diversity was never seen as weakness. It was the strength of a civilization that allowed multiple paths, multiple forms of worship and multiple ways of understanding the divine. Faith was not uniform, and it did not need to be.

Today that diversity is increasingly treated as inconvenience. A loud and simplified narrative is promoted as the only acceptable version of being Hindu. Everything else is either ignored or labelled as impure or corrupted. This political narrowing of faith does not protect Hinduism. It weakens it. When traditions are forced into rigid templates, they lose their organic connection with people. What does not feel authentic eventually becomes easy to mock, even for those who once respected it.

Mockery does not arise only from outsiders. It also comes from within society when people see rituals being performed for cameras rather than conscience, when faith is paraded for applause rather than practiced with humility. Once religion becomes performance, it invites judgment like any other performance. People start asking whether a ritual is genuine or staged, whether a belief is sincere or scripted for television. In that atmosphere skepticism grows, not because people hate tradition, but because they no longer trust its public display.

The problem is not that people are questioning practices. Questioning has always existed in Hindu philosophical traditions. Debate is central to the Upanishads and to many schools of thought. The problem is that questioning today is no longer spiritual or intellectual. It is political and sarcastic. It is driven by exhaustion from constant religious messaging mixed with political messaging. When every policy speech, rally and election campaign uses religious language, people become desensitized. Faith then feels like advertising. And advertising always invites satire.

Instead of protecting diversity within Hindu traditions, current politics often seeks to flatten it. A single image of faith is projected across regions, languages and communities. This ignores centuries of localized customs that gave meaning to everyday life. When people see their own traditions sidelined or reshaped to fit a national political script, they feel disconnected. Disconnection soon becomes indifference, and indifference easily turns into casual disrespect.

Real faith grows through lived practice and humility, not through slogans or mass events. It grows in quiet temple visits, in household rituals, in ethical conduct and in compassion toward others. It does not need constant validation from political leaders. In fact, when faith depends on political endorsement, it becomes fragile. The moment political fortunes change, faith is dragged down with it, treated as another failed campaign promise.

Commercialisation has added another layer of damage. Religious symbols are now branding tools. Festivals are marketing opportunities. Spiritual language is used to sell products and personalities. When belief becomes commodity, it loses sacredness. People then consume religion the way they consume entertainment. They like, share, scroll and forget. In such a market driven religious culture, reverence struggles to survive.

Ironically, those who claim to be guardians of tradition often contribute most to its erosion. By turning religion into an instrument of constant mobilization, they strip it of inner depth. By framing faith as identity warfare, they convert spiritual belonging into social hostility. This does not inspire devotion. It generates fatigue and resentment. Over time, even sincere believers begin to feel embarrassed by aggressive religious posturing done in their name.

There is also a generational impact. Younger people growing up in an environment where religion is always political will naturally associate rituals with power games rather than personal meaning. For them, faith does not appear as a source of peace or reflection, but as a tool for shouting matches on television and social media. When that happens, tradition does not attract curiosity. It invites parody.

True respect for Hindu culture requires keeping it away from political compulsions. It requires allowing communities to practice in their own ways without imposing uniform symbols and slogans. It requires understanding that spirituality cannot be legislated or televised into existence. It must be lived, taught and transmitted through example, not through spectacle.

Protecting Hinduism does not mean making it louder. It means making it deeper. It means restoring dignity to rituals by freeing them from constant political usage. It means remembering that the strength of this civilization lay in its ability to absorb, adapt and coexist, not in its urge to dominate narratives.

When faith becomes propaganda, culture becomes collateral damage. And once culture erodes, rebuilding respect is far harder than winning an election. If traditions continue to be weaponized and reduced to identity markers, mockery will only increase, not because people hate religion, but because they are tired of seeing it used as a tool of power rather than a path of wisdom.

Saving Hindu traditions today therefore requires protecting them from political capture. It requires separating devotion from dominance and spirituality from spectacle. Only then can rituals regain their meaning, and only then can faith command respect rather than provoke laughter.

Author Introduction

Siddhartha Shankar Mishra is an advocate at the Supreme Court of India and a commentator on law, politics and society. His writings blend legal insight with social critique and aim to provoke reflection on power, justice and public conscience.