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.

 

From Varna to Caste: A Long and Complicated History

 

Caste is one of the most discussed and misunderstood institutions in Indian society. It is common to trace the entire system to the four varnas mentioned in ancient literature, but the historical reality is considerably more complicated. Varna and jati are not interchangeable terms. Varna was a broad fourfold classification found in ancient texts, while jati came to describe the thousands of communities that developed across different parts of India. The caste system as we know it was the result of a long historical process rather than the creation of a single text, ruler or period.

In the early Vedic period, Indian society was organised around family, tribe, occupation, political authority, religious practice and economic activity. The fourfold varna classification became more visible in later Vedic literature. Brahmins were associated with learning and ritual, Kshatriyas with political and military authority, Vaishyas with agriculture and trade, and Shudras with various forms of labour and service. These categories reflected social distinctions, but they should not simply be equated with the later caste system. 

It is equally difficult to describe the early varna order as completely egalitarian. Differences of status and ritual privilege were present. At the same time, the social boundaries were not necessarily as fixed everywhere as they became in later centuries. Indian literature contains examples of sages, teachers and important figures whose backgrounds do not fit neatly into the rigid caste assumptions of later society. This suggests that ancient Indian social organisation was capable of considerable variation.

The later Dharmashastra tradition attempted to regulate social conduct in greater detail. Texts such as the Manusmriti described duties, marriage rules, occupations and penalties associated with different social categories. Such texts are important historical sources, but they cannot be treated as a single constitution of ancient India. They were normative texts, and actual social practices differed across regions and periods. Other traditions also questioned social hierarchy and ritual authority.

The emergence of jati was a separate and gradual development. As agriculture expanded, settlements became permanent and occupations became specialised, communities developed distinctive identities. Marriage within particular groups became increasingly important. Occupations were frequently transmitted from parents to children. Local political arrangements, land ownership and economic relationships further strengthened these boundaries. Thousands of communities eventually came to occupy particular positions within regional social structures.

Caste therefore cannot be explained by religion alone. Economic interests and control over land mattered. Political patronage mattered. Marriage and kinship mattered. So did ideas of ritual status. In some areas, communities could improve their social position over generations, while in others boundaries remained particularly strong. Indian society was never completely uniform.

The medieval period contributed to the consolidation of caste identities. The growth of kingdoms, landed institutions and temple centred economies created new relationships between rulers, landholders, religious institutions, cultivators and occupational communities. Hereditary occupations and local obligations could make social mobility difficult. Concepts surrounding purity and pollution became increasingly significant in many regions, contributing to the exclusion of communities regarded as outside the accepted social order.

Yet medieval India was also a period of powerful challenges to hierarchy. Buddhist and Jain traditions had questioned Brahmanical ritual authority much earlier, while the Bhakti movements produced poets and saints from a wide variety of social backgrounds. Figures such as Kabir, Ravidas and Chokhamela questioned the assumption that spiritual worth could be determined by birth. These traditions remind us that Indian society has always contained both hierarchy and resistance to hierarchy.

The role of Brahmanical texts also requires a careful examination. It is true that some texts contain prescriptions supporting social hierarchy and restrictions based on birth. But it would be historically inaccurate to assume that every Indian community followed these prescriptions in the same manner. Local customs frequently differed from textual rules. There were also numerous legal, philosophical and religious traditions outside the Dharmashastra literature. The selective use of particular verses to represent the whole of Indian civilisation can therefore produce a distorted picture.

British rule introduced another important stage in the history of caste. The British did not invent caste. Caste based distinctions and hereditary communities clearly existed before colonial rule. However, colonial administration sought to classify Indian society for purposes of governance. The censuses of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries required communities to identify themselves within administrative categories. Officials attempted to arrange an extraordinarily diverse social landscape into fixed classifications.

Colonial ethnographers also relied heavily on Sanskrit texts and Brahmanical interpretations while constructing theories about Indian society. In doing so, they sometimes gave textual descriptions a uniform importance that did not correspond to the enormous diversity of social practice. Census categories, official records and administrative classifications could consequently reinforce identities that had previously been more fluid or locally defined.

The colonial period also witnessed a growing intellectual and political challenge to caste from within Indian society. Social reformers and leaders from oppressed communities questioned both untouchability and hereditary privilege. Jyotirao Phule criticised Brahmanical social domination and worked for the education of marginalised communities. Narayana Guru challenged caste distinctions in Kerala. Mahatma Gandhi campaigned against untouchability, although his approach to the wider question of caste differed from that of other reformers.

Dr B R Ambedkar went considerably further in his criticism of caste. For Ambedkar, caste was not simply a division of labour but a division of people into hereditary groups accompanied by graded inequality. He argued that political democracy could not survive without social democracy. His critique placed dignity, equality and individual liberty at the centre of the debate.

The Constitution of India eventually transformed the legal position. Article 14 guarantees equality before the law and equal protection of the laws. Article 15 prohibits discrimination on specified grounds, including caste, while permitting special provisions for socially and educationally backward classes and other constitutionally recognised groups. Article 16 guarantees equality of opportunity in public employment while permitting reservations under specified conditions. Article 17 goes further by abolishing untouchability and making its enforcement an offence.

The constitutional framework did not pretend that centuries of social inequality would disappear simply because a new law had been enacted. Instead, it sought to change the legal and institutional foundations of that inequality. Reservations, anti discrimination provisions and other protective measures recognise that formal equality alone cannot immediately remove the effects of historical exclusion.

The journey from varna to caste therefore cannot be reduced to one explanation. Ancient classifications, religious ideas, occupation, marriage, land, political power, regional customs, medieval institutions and colonial administration all contributed to the social system that developed over centuries. Nor is it accurate to describe caste simply as an invention of the British or to assume that every aspect of caste can be found fully formed in the Vedic period.

The more useful approach is to understand caste as a historical institution that changed with Indian society itself. It contained hierarchy, but it also generated resistance. It was influenced by religious ideas, but it was also shaped by economics and politics. And while its social legacy continues, the constitutional order has established a different principle: citizenship and legal rights cannot depend upon the circumstances of one's birth.

Author Bio

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

 

 

Partition as Strategy Not Destiny

 

Of Slogans and Scapegoats: The Empire’s Last Coup in Partitioning India

When the Union Jack came down from Delhi’s skyline in August 1947, it was celebrated as the triumph of freedom. Yet beneath the jubilation lay the Empire’s most masterful retreat, a meticulously planned division of a nation that could have emerged as the strongest democratic socialist power in Asia. The Partition of India was not only the fallout of communal politics but also the outcome of British strategy, executed through Lord Louis Mountbatten, to fragment a rising socialist India and protect Western interests during the dawn of the Cold War.

The Imperial Exit and the Socialist Anxiety

By 1945 Britain was exhausted from war, its economy broken and colonies restless. Prime Minister Clement Attlee declared that British rule in India would end by June 1948. But when Mountbatten arrived as the last Viceroy in March 1947, he compressed this schedule to a few months. The haste was not accidental. A unified India, led by socialist figures such as Jawaharlal Nehru, Subhas Chandra Bose, and Ram Manohar Lohia, could have become a powerful non Western force potentially sympathetic to the Soviet Union. This was unacceptable to an empire desperate to safeguard its geopolitical influence in Asia.

The British policy thus evolved into divide and depart. The logic was simple, an India fractured along religious lines would be weaker, dependent, and easier to influence than a united socialist republic with a strong industrial and moral foundation.

Gandhi’s Moral Resistance

In this turbulent landscape stood Mahatma Gandhi, the solitary moral voice opposing both Partition and the communal narratives feeding it. Gandhi’s dream was of an undivided India where Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, and others could coexist as equals. He denounced both Savarkar’s theory of Hindutva and Jinnah’s two nation idea, declaring that religion must never define nationality. For him, the essence of India was spiritual pluralism, not sectarian separation.

Gandhi’s opposition to Partition was so absolute that he even proposed that Mohammad Ali Jinnah could be made Prime Minister of a united India if it would prevent division. It was not naivety but an act of moral audacity. He saw Partition as a wound on the soul of the nation and believed no political calculation could justify it. When Congress leaders finally accepted Mountbatten’s plan, Gandhi stood isolated, fasting amid riots and despair, watching the dismemberment of the country he had tried to unite through love.

Savarkar and Jinnah: Two Poles of the Same Divide

While Gandhi preached unity, Vinayak Damodar Savarkar and Mohammad Ali Jinnah embodied the two ideological extremes that made Mountbatten’s task easier. Savarkar’s Hindutva had by the 1930s turned nationalism into a religious identity, defining India as the sacred land of Hindus. He rejected Gandhi’s inclusive nationalism and derided nonviolence as weakness. Jinnah, once a secular nationalist, transformed into the political voice of Muslim separatism, asserting that Hindus and Muslims were distinct nations that could not coexist under one government.

Between Savarkar’s Hindu Rashtra and Jinnah’s Pakistan, the space for Gandhi’s inclusive vision vanished. The British administration found itself presiding over a subcontinent divided by ideas it had once encouraged to maintain control. Mountbatten’s plan capitalised on this polarisation and presented Partition as a practical solution to communal disorder, a solution that conveniently aligned with Britain’s desire for a quick and strategically useful exit.

Mountbatten’s Design and the June 3 Plan

On 3 June 1947 Mountbatten unveiled his plan for transfer of power. It proposed the creation of two dominions, India and Pakistan, the division of Punjab and Bengal, and a right for princely states to accede to either side. The boundary commissions, chaired by Sir Cyril Radcliffe, were given an impossible task, to divide lands and people in weeks, with little knowledge of India’s realities.

Mountbatten’s plan appeared pragmatic, but it was deeply political. By advancing the date of independence to 15 August 1947, he ensured that the British could withdraw before unrest spread further, leaving the consequences of division to local leaders. Congress, under Nehru and Patel, reluctantly accepted the plan, believing refusal would lead to anarchy. The Muslim League embraced it as victory. In truth, both were manoeuvred into agreement on a map drawn in haste and blood.

The Cost of Division

The aftermath was catastrophic. Over fifteen million people crossed borders. Nearly a million perished in massacres, abductions, and forced migrations. Families that had shared streets and songs for centuries turned against one another. Gandhi, heartbroken, moved from one riot torn region to another, preaching peace even as he was accused by both sides of betrayal. His assassination in January 1948 by Nathuram Godse, a follower of Savarkar’s ideology, symbolised the death of the very conscience that had resisted the politics of hate.

Mountbatten, meanwhile, returned to England as the glamorous midwife of freedom, his reputation polished by empire. Yet the line he helped draw not only divided a land but also seeded decades of conflict between India and Pakistan, ensuring the subcontinent remained politically distracted and militarily vulnerable.

Partition and the Cold War Lens

The partitioned subcontinent suited Western interests. Pakistan soon joined Western military alliances such as SEATO and CENTO, providing the West with a strategic foothold near the Soviet border. India, under Nehru’s leadership, pursued non alignment and socialist planning, but its attention was repeatedly drawn to the unresolved issues born from Partition, Kashmir, refugees, and communal politics.

Had India remained united, the socialist bloc in Asia might have found its strongest democratic ally. Instead, the subcontinent became a zone of rivalry and suspicion. Britain exited with its moral image intact while leaving behind an enduring strategic vacuum.

The Forgotten Possibility

History rarely records possibilities, only outcomes. Yet it is worth imagining what Gandhi envisioned, a united, plural, self reliant India guided by conscience rather than creed. Savarkar’s nationalism and Jinnah’s separatism served immediate political ends but destroyed that moral unity. Mountbatten’s plan, hailed as administrative brilliance, was in truth the Empire’s last coup, a calculated fracture that prevented India from rising as one of the great powers in the twentieth century.

The tragedy of Partition is not merely that it divided land and people. It divided ideas, the moral from the political, unity from power, conscience from convenience. Gandhi’s vision was buried under the weight of imperial pragmatism and sectarian ambition.

Conclusion

Partition was not destiny. It was a design. The British Empire, facing decline, found in communal politics a perfect alibi to exit with honour while leaving behind disorder. Gandhi stood against it and paid with his life. Savarkar and Jinnah, in opposing forms, provided the ideological fuel that made Mountbatten’s plan appear inevitable. Nehru and the Congress accepted the division to save what remained of peace. And so, in the summer of 1947, India achieved freedom but lost its wholeness, a freedom born not from triumph but from amputation.

The ghost of that design still walks among us every time religion overshadows citizenship, every time unity is traded for identity. Partition was not just a boundary drawn in 1947. It was the blueprint of our continuing political fragmentation.

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About the Author
Siddhartha Shankar Mishra is an Advocate at the Supreme Court of India who writes on law, history, and contemporary politics.
Email: ssmishra33@gmail.com 

References 

• Britannica: Partition of India
• PMC Journal of Asian Studies: The Political Legacy of Mountbatten’s Plan
• NextIAS and Vajiram & Ravi archives on the Mountbatten Plan 1947
• Unacademy & Vedantu educational archives on Transfer of Power
• Testbook & Britannica analyses on Indian Independence Act 1947
• Speeches and letters of Mahatma Gandhi Collected Works Vol 94 to 98

RSS : - FROM SHAKHAS TO STREETS: WHEN IDEOLOGY BECOMES MOBILISATION

 

Riots Are Not Accidents What Official Records, Courts and Commissions Have Said

Communal violence in India is often explained away as emotional overflow or administrative failure. Yet across decades, official commissions, statutory bodies, police records and courts have documented patterns of organised mobilisation, ideological conditioning and political confidence. While criminal law fixes guilt on individuals, institutional and ideological responsibility has been repeatedly recorded by inquiry bodies.

What follows is not opinion. It is a compilation of direct commission quotes, court citations and recorded allegations, presented as part of public record.

 

DIRECT COMMISSION QUOTES

Liberhan Commission (Babri Masjid 1992)

“The demolition of the disputed structure was the result of a concerted and planned action of the Sangh Parivar… including the RSS, VHP and BJP. None of this could have been achieved without the organisational support and mobilisation of these bodies.”

Another key finding:

“The RSS was not a marginal presence. It was central to the planning, coordination and execution of the programme leading to 6 December 1992.”

 

Srikrishna Commission

“There is no doubt that the Shiv Sena and Hindu communal organisations were responsible for the second phase of the riots.”

While RSS was not named as the primary actor, the Commission noted:

“The role of Hindu communal organisations with ideological affinity cannot be ignored in the spread and perpetuation of violence.”

 

Justice D P Madon Commission

“Members of the RSS actively participated in inciting passions and organising Hindu mobs.”

 

Concerned Citizens Tribunal (Justice V R Krishna Iyer)

“The violence was not spontaneous. It was organised, planned and executed with the active participation of Sangh Parivar organisations, including the RSS.”

 

National Human Rights Commission on Gujarat 2002

“There was a systemic failure of the State to protect citizens, and evidence suggests organised groups were allowed to operate with impunity.”

 

SUPREME COURT AND HIGH COURT CASE CITATIONS

Nathuram Godse Background

Gopal Godse v Union of India, Bombay HC (1961)
Court noted ideological proximity of Gandhi’s assassins with Hindu extremist thought, though not convicting RSS as an institution.

This judicial observation recognised ideological radicalisation even while fixing criminal guilt only on individuals.

 

Babri Masjid Cases

M S Golwalkar v Union of India is not a case
Relevant cases are:

• Dr M Ismail Faruqui v Union of India, (1994) 6 SCC 360
• CBI v Kalyan Singh, (2017) 7 SCC 444
• L K Advani v CBI, (2017) 7 SCC 453

The Supreme Court acknowledged organised mobilisation leading to demolition.

In CBI v Kalyan Singh and L K Advani v CBI, the Court restored conspiracy charges and rejected the argument that demolition occurred due to sudden emotional frenzy or administrative helplessness.

 

 

Gujarat 2002

National Human Rights Commission v State of Gujarat, (2009) 6 SCC 767

The Supreme Court described Gujarat riots as a case of “modern day Neros” watching while people burned.

The Court transferred trials outside Gujarat, citing failure of rule of law and risk to fair trial.

 

Delhi Riots 2020

State of NCT of Delhi v Tahir Hussain, Delhi HC 2021

Court discussed organised mobilisation and conspiracy, while emphasising individual criminal liability.

While trials are ongoing, judicial observations again rejected protest gone wrong explanations in certain areas.

 

KEY INCIDENTS AND ALLEGATIONS

1. Mahatma Gandhi Assassination

After Gandhi’s assassination, the Government of India banned the RSS. Home Ministry records cited a climate of hatred and militant propaganda.
While Nathuram Godse had left RSS formally, the Kapoor Commission later recorded ideological proximity.

 

2. Jabalpur Riots

Justice D P Madon Commission observed organised mobilisation and role of Hindu communal groups, including RSS workers, in inciting violence.

 

3. Meerut Riots

Fact finding reports documented coordinated rumour spreading and mobilisation by Hindu and Muslim organisations. RSS linked outfits were named among Hindu groups active on the ground.

 

 

4. Babri Masjid Demolition

The Liberhan Commission squarely blamed the RSS, VHP, BJP leadership for systematic planning and mobilisation leading to demolition and nationwide riots.

 

5. Mumbai Riots

The Srikrishna Commission found that Shiv Sena and Hindu communal organisations, with ideological overlap with Sangh Parivar, played a leading role in violence.

 

6. Gujarat Riots

The Concerned Citizens Tribunal, NHRC, and several journalists recorded RSS shakhas and VHP networks being used for logistics, mobilisation, and targeting.
Courts convicted individuals but not the organisation.

 

7. Muzaffarnagar Riots

Police records and media reports noted organised mobilisation, provocative speeches, and circulation of fake videos by Hindu nationalist groups linked to the Sangh ecosystem.

 

8. Delhi Riots

Independent investigations and charge sheets alleged ideological mobilisation and street level coordination by individuals associated with Hindu nationalist groups. Cases remain contested in courts.

 

LEGAL POSITION CLARIFIED

No Indian court has convicted RSS as an organisation
Multiple commissions have recorded its ideological and organisational role
Criminal law fixes individual guilt, not ideological guilt
Commissions expose patterns that courts cannot ignore but are not punitive

This distinction is fundamental to understanding how institutional accountability escapes judicial punishment while remaining documented in public record.

 

 

WHY DENIAL FAILS

Organisations routinely rely on technical legality to deny responsibility. But constitutional morality is not limited to courtroom acquittals. When ideological ecosystems repeatedly appear across decades of violence, denial becomes political strategy rather than factual rebuttal.

Silence after riots, absence of internal disciplinary processes, and political rehabilitation of accused individuals convert plausible deniability into moral endorsement.

Courts punish crimes. History judges systems.

 

CONCLUSION

From Gandhi’s assassination to Delhi 2020, official records repeatedly challenge the myth of spontaneous riots. They document organised mobilisation, ideological conditioning, political silence and confidence of impunity.

No Indian court has convicted RSS as an organisation
Multiple commissions have recorded its ideological and organisational role
Criminal law fixes individual guilt, not ideological guilt
Commissions expose patterns that courts cannot ignore but are not punitive

Denial does not erase this record.
Legal acquittal does not mean moral innocence.
History will not read only judgments. It will read patterns.

Accountability is not hatred. It is democracy’s last defence.

 

REFERENCES

Commissions and Tribunals

1. Liberhan Commission of Inquiry Report (2009), Ministry of Home Affairs, Government of India
   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liberhan_Commission
2. Justice B N Srikrishna Commission Report (1998), Government of Maharashtra
   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Srikrishna_Commission
3. Justice D P Madon Commission Report (1962), Government of Madhya Pradesh
   https://www.mha.gov.in/en/documents/commissions-inquiry
4. Concerned Citizens Tribunal on Gujarat 2002, Crime Against Humanity, chaired by Justice V R Krishna Iyer
   https://cjp.org.in/concerned-citizens-tribunal/
5. National Human Rights Commission Proceedings on Gujarat Riots (2002)
   https://nhrc.nic.in/

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Supreme Court and High Court Judgments

6. Gopal Godse v Union of India, Bombay High Court, 1961
   https://indiankanoon.org/doc/1783372/
7. Dr M Ismail Faruqui v Union of India, (1994) 6 SCC 360
   https://indiankanoon.org/doc/1570821/
8. CBI v Kalyan Singh, (2017) 7 SCC 444
   https://indiankanoon.org/doc/196014248/
9. L K Advani v CBI, (2017) 7 SCC 453
   https://indiankanoon.org/doc/100876344/
10. National Human Rights Commission v State of Gujarat, (2009) 6 SCC 767
    https://indiankanoon.org/doc/1858682/
11. State of NCT of Delhi v Tahir Hussain, Delhi High Court, 2021
    https://indiankanoon.org/doc/138984876/

 

Historical Inquiry

12. Justice J L Kapur Commission Report on Gandhi Assassination (1969)
    https://www.mha.gov.in/en/documents/gandhi-assassination-report

 

Author’s 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.