Or
[Hindu Pakistan]
There is a famous saying about myth: it is TRUE but never HAPPENED. The same applies to the Hindutva Hindu. Shashi Tharoor’s Why I Am a Hindu [New Delhi, Aleph Book Company, 2018], another scholarly work from a widely respected intellectual, demonstrates this. While only a scholar of his caliber can critique his arguments academically, as a layman and admirer of Tharoor’s works, I approach this book not as a formal review but as a set of questions. As I read, I found that rather than focusing on ‘Why one is a Hindu,’ much of the book revolves around ‘What kind of Hindu Tharoor is not’—especially in contrast to Hindutva. While his critique of Hindutva is well-grounded, I couldn’t help but notice a crucial omission: the role of secular forces, particularly Congress, in shaping political Hinduism. If political Hinduism is to be examined, shouldn’t all major players be analyzed?
This reflection questions the completeness of Tharoor’s narrative and explores the broader truth behind India’s evolving Hindu identity.
According to my understanding, this book is more about ‘What kind of Hindu Dr. Tharoor is not.’ And while the book has the right title, Why I Am a Hindu, it primarily presents what kind of Hindu he is not or what Hinduism is not—particularly in contrast to the Hindutva ideology. Of course, no one can deny anything he says about Hindutva, as he both quotes and narrates based on authentic historical information available to all and not merely on guesswork or assumptions. Throughout this book, while building his theme systematically, step by step leading to a conclusion where he heavily criticizes Hindutva, he focuses particularly on why he opposes it.
But my point is that when Dr. Tharoor discusses ‘Why one is a Hindu,’ taking an overall view of Hinduism, he has done a scholarly job in explaining ‘His Hinduism’ (pp. 2-31). However, in the rest of the book—The Hindu Way (pp. 32-68), Questioning Hindu Customs (pp. 69-92), Great Souls of Hinduism (pp. 93-139), Hinduism and the Politics of Hindutva (pp. 140-198), Beyond Holy Cows: The Uses and Abuses of Hindu Culture and History (pp. 199-265), Taking Back Hinduism (pp. 266-294)—he primarily confronts Hindutva, which built its own narrative about Hinduism. Yet, this narrative was never solely responsible for shaping Hinduism in India.
According to Sai Deepak in his debate with Dr Tharoor, [https://youtu.be/7x-W_lIH5-4?si=YuZOiNV4RbaOpXPv] even the term ‘Hindutva,’originated in Bengal before Savarkar—coined by one Chandanath Basu in 1892—became prominent only as a reaction to the demand for a separate nation based on religion—Pakistan. Tharoor himself acknowledges this: “…the Hindutva idea originated around the same time as the rise of a separate Muslim consciousness in the polity in the early twentieth century…” (Why I Am a Hindu, p. 279). He is correct in opposing the idea of a ‘Hindu Pakistan’ in present-day India. However, beyond this political reaction, secular forces, particularly Congress, played a crucial role in shaping political Hinduism. Yet, Tharoor fails to discuss this in his book. If his work were solely about his personal faith and philosophy, the omission would be understandable. But since he brings political issues into the discussion, it is necessary to include the role of so-called secular parties as well, particularly from the time Hindutva emerged around 1925 and later developments leading to Partition. As this point is well documented by various scholars,1 I need not give further references to it.
One glaring omission is the role of Congress in the communalization of politics, especially under Rajiv Gandhi. While Tharoor mentions the demolition of the Babri Masjid in Ayodhya, he conveniently ignores that it was Congress under Rajiv Gandhi that allowed the shilanyas and the puja for the makeshift temple at the disputed site. Listen to what Jaffrelot says about this:
…The Congress (I) government now appeared willing to adhere less firmly to its secularist principles; it had given way to orthodox Muslim opinion in its handling of the Shah Bano affair, it had condoned the decision to unseal the disputed structure in Ayodhya, and it had allowed the shilanyas ceremony to go ahead. The Congress no longer had either the will or the means to uphold secular ideals. In the 1950s and ‘60s, local Congressmen did not hesitate to use communal appeals while the central leadership maintained a secular profile. However, in the 1980s it was the central government which resorted to a communalised form of politics which gave much more prominence to the alleged rights of religious groups, with the result that debate about ethnic questions became commonplace. To some extent the Hindu nationalist discourse was legitimised. In addition, the mainstream opposition, though antagonised by the revival of Hindu militancy, agreed to form an anti-Congress (I) alliance with the BJP in the late 1980s. The BJP was thus presented with ideal conditions for the launch of a ‘mixed strategy’ in which instrumentalism was centred on manipulation of the symbol of Ramjanmabhoomi ….2
Such [communal] acts played a significant role in the unfolding of political Hinduism, yet Tharoor does not address it. If his book discusses ‘Political Hinduism’ in Section Two, then where is the mention of the other major political party that actively shaped this discourse?
Though what Dr. Tharoor discusses in Section Two: Political Hinduism has little to do with ‘Why One is a Hindu’ for a common person, any scholar has the ability to build a narrative based on a chosen theme. Tharoor has done a remarkable job in this regard. However, I still feel that the other half of the coin is missing when he fails to mention the contribution of secularism, specifically Congress’s role, to the question of ‘Why one is a Hindu’ or ‘What Hinduism is not.’ Of course, in his other works, such as The Great Indian Novel [Picador 1994] and many other forums, he has critiqued the Emergency and other aspects of Congress rule. But in this particular book, a proper analysis of the contribution of secular forces, particularly Congress, would have made the argument more complete rather than presenting only half the truth.
Despite reading this book as carefully as possible, I could not find any reference to Congress’s role. Out of curiosity, I even checked the Index, where the word ‘Congress’ is completely absent. This omission surprises and confuses me—how can one discuss ‘Political Hinduism’ in depth without mentioning Congress? Perhaps, as Congress is slowly becoming irrelevant in Indian politics, Tharoor too thought it unnecessary to include its role, despite its significant past contributions. This seems to reflect a larger trend where Congress’s decline has led even intellectuals to sideline its historical role.
If this book were only about Tharoor’s personal faith or a historical analysis of Hinduism, the omission of Congress would be understandable. However, given that more than half the book focuses on critiquing Hindutva, a proper analysis would require mentioning the role of other political forces, including Congress.
Of course, Tharoor clearly acknowledges this complexity when he states, “My claims about being Hindu are undoubtedly mediated by political contestations around the public expressions of Hinduism by those who see it as a badge of identity more than a system of transcendental beliefs…” (p. xii). This makes it clear that the book is not merely a personal reflection or a purely philosophical discourse, but one inevitably shaped by the current political climate.
However, the irony is this: if, by his own admission, his Hindu identity is “undoubtedly mediated by political contestations,” then a truly comprehensive exploration of those contestations should not ignore the role of other political players—especially the Congress party, of which Tharoor himself is a senior leader. By limiting the political critique largely to the BJP and Hindutva, the book risks presenting a selectively framed narrative.
Every fundamentalist movement, if it fails to reform and evolve according to changing times, will eventually disappear, unable to sustain itself on reactionary views alone. Present-day Hindutva, though still controversial, has evolved beyond its early reactionary stance. Even Tharoor acknowledges in his personal conversation with Mohan Bhagwat that the RSS no longer strictly adheres to its original Hindutva ideology. Instead, it has redefined its vision and mission, reaching out to Muslims as well, with the goal of a united India—treating politics merely as a means to that end. [Watch: https://youtu.be/1VjPd2AOcR0?si=aoZOKbWdozhZ4vR5] If this were not true, Hindutva would not have survived and gained such prominence in India today.
If this book were only about Tharoor’s personal faith or a historical analysis of Hinduism, the omission of Congress would be understandable. However, given that more than half the book focuses on critiquing Hindutva, a proper analysis would require mentioning the role of other political forces, including Congress. Every fundamentalist movement, if it fails to reform and evolve according to changing times, will eventually disappear, unable to sustain itself on reactionary views alone. Present-day Hindutva, though still controversial, has evolved beyond its early reactionary stance. Even Tharoor acknowledges in his personal conversation with Mohan Bhagwat that the RSS no longer strictly adheres to its original Hindutva ideology. Instead, it has redefined its vision and mission, reaching out to Muslims as well, with the goal of a united India—treating politics merely as a means to that end. [Watch https://youtu.be/1VjPd2AOcR0?si=aoZOKbWdozhZ4vR5] If this were not true, Hindutva would not have survived and gained such prominence in India today.
Thus, instead of Why I Am a Hindu, a more accurate title for Tharoor’s book would be Why I Am Not a Hindutva Hindu, as that more accurately reflects its central theme. Alternatively, leaving a blank space in the title—Why I Am Not a ___ Hindu—would allow individuals to fill in what they reject, such as Why I Am Not a Secular Hindu, Why I Am Not an Aryan Hindu, Why I Am Not a Dravidian Hindu, Why I Am Not a Christian Hindu, Why I am not a ‘not a Born again Hindu’ ‘not a Nominal Hindu’ ‘[borrowed from Christians], ‘not a Philosophical Hindu’ ‘not a Popular Hindu’ ‘not an Orthodox Hindu’ ‘not a Liberal Hindu’ ‘not a Jihadist Hindu’ etc., allowing for a broader and more nuanced discussion of Hindu identity, recognizing the reality that no Hindu would find to any of it at the same time she could be all these one at the same time. This is the reality of the HINDU IDENTITY.
Ashram, 1-4-2025
Notes
1 Blackwell Companion to Hinduism, Gavin Flood (ed.), UK, Blackwell Publishing Ltd, Indian Reprint 2003, p.527ff; Chaturvedi Badrinath, Dharma, India and the World Order, Saint Andrew Press, Pahl-Rugenstein, 1993, p.272 ff; Ronald B. Inden, Imagining India, London, Hurst & Company, (1990), 2000; Raychaudhuri, Tapan, Perceptions, Emotions, Sensibilities: Essays on India’s Colonial and Post-Colonial Experiences, Oxford University Press, New Delhi, 1999; Edwin Bryant, The Quest for the Origins of Vedic Culture: The Indo-Aryan Migration Debate, Oxford University Press (2001) 2002 Indian edition; ‘Law and Hindu nationalist movements’, Smita Narula., in Hinduism and Law: An Introduction, Timothy Lubin, Donald R. Davis, Jr;, and Jayanth K. Krishnan,(eds.), New Delhi, Cambridge University Press, 2010; Amartya Sen, The Argumentative Indian. Writings on Indian Culture, History and Identity, Penguin Books, NY, first published in 2005; Christophe Jaffrelot, The Hindu Nationalist Movement and Indian Politics 1925 to the 1990s With a New Afterword, Penguin Books, 1999 2009 2. Jaffrelot, ibid. p. 527
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