Two Phases of Indian Secularism

On a recent trip to Toronto I picked up a DVD disc of an old Indian film, Mr. and Mrs. 55. The film was made by my favourite Indian film director of all times, Guru Dutt. It is an escapist entertainer, made before the time when Guru Dutt turned to serious cinema. To the extent that there was a message in the film, it was anti-feminist. The villain in the film is an aunty who is a leader of women’s movement and supports the Hindu Code Bill, which was then being debated and which, sought to legalize divorce. Before this legislation, Hindu marriages were presumed to be made in heaven and not subject to break-up in this world. The virtuous woman in the film was the sister-in-law of the hero whose home is her world and who did not think there was anything wrong in a husband slapping his wife once in a while. The film was a hit.

The film brought to my mind the unpopularity of the Hindu Code Bill when it was passed. It was opposed not only by the Hindu religious leaders and masses but also by such veteran leaders as Rajgopal Acharya and Rajendra Prasad. In fact, Rajendra Prasad, the first President of India, refused to sign the Bill when it was first presented to him. And yet, the leadership persisted, and passed the Bill despite its immense unpopularity among the Hindus, Sikhs, Jains and Buddhists to whom it applied.

The point here is not that there was anything wrong with the Bill or that the Hindu law did not need reform. It most certainly did. In this instance, the Indian Prime Minister showed true leadership and did what was needed. Over time, the Hindu society accepted the reforms and the opposition of those days is hardly even remembered by anyone. The point is that the Hindu sentiment was ignored while introducing this much-needed reform. The same, however, did not apply with respect to the Muslim sentiment with respect to the reform of their civil law. The same leadership, which introduced the reform to the Hindu law explicitly recognized that the Muslim law also needed to be brought to be in line with contemporary values. And unlike the Hindus whose opposition to the new legislation was mass-based, the Muslim opposition was limited to the leaders of the Jamiat-ul-ulema-e-Hind, as the Muslim masses at that time had not yet recovered from the trauma of the partition to have a strong popular voice. It was felt that the traumatised Muslim community needed a sense of security and retaining their religious laws would give them the security it needed.

Reform of religious laws was not the only instance where an asymmetric secularism was practised. The constitution also treated majority and minority religious communities differently with respect to the control of their religious and educational institutions. The Hindu temples and trusts were brought under state management, which assumed the control of temple offerings as well as the appointments of trusties and salaried priests. Muslim waqfs and other minority institutions, on the other hand, were left with complete control of their affairs. Madrassas and other educational institutions run by the minorities were also largely left outside the state purview even when the state provided almost all of the funding for these institutes.

At the political level, too, it was obvious that the ruling party treated majority and minority communal parties differently. The Hindu parties, such as the fledgling Jan Sangh (although overtly secular), Hindu Mahasabha and Ram Rajya Parishad, which had a marginal appeal anyway, were treated as pariahs and became the new “achhoots” of India. On the other hand, political parties catering exclusively to minorities, such as the Akalis in Panjab and the Muslim League in Kerala were not only tolerated but also accepted as coalition partners by the same ruling party. It created such absurd situations where Jawahar Lal Nehru, while campaigning for his party in Kerala during the first general elections, poured vitriol over a non-existent Jan Sangh in the state while the only significant communal party in that state was the Muslim League, which became a coalition partner of the Congress in the State, and still is.

This was the first phase of Indian secularism: noble, tolerant, and pro-minority. But it had its downsides. The downsides related both to how it affected Muslims, the dominant minority as well as how it affected the majority. The policy encouraged a separatist, ghetto mentality among the Muslims and kept them aloof from the mainstream. It promoted an obscurantist leadership in the community, immune to reforms, and led to a cosy relationship between this obscurantist leadership and the ruling party whereby the obscurantist promised to deliver the Muslim votes to the ruling party in return for non-interference in its affairs. It absolved the national leadership of addressing the real disparities and discriminations faced by the Muslim community in the civil and armed services or from taking any pro-active measures to improve their representation in educational institutions, police or army. It has also been suggested that the ruling party was not too unhappy with the occasional communal riots as the heightened sense of insecurity among the Muslims made them a hostage to the ruling party which presented itself as their sole saviour.

The most serious internal adverse effect was, perhaps, in the educational field. By giving complete control of the Madrassas to the religious bodies, the govt. abandoned its role of ensuring a quality education to the Muslims. The Madrassas seemed to be more interested in providing religious instructions than in upgrading their teaching standards in English, Mathematics and sciences. To the extent that they received any funding from the Saudis, these institutions also gave emphasis to the Wahabi than the other, more tolerant, versions of Islam.

But it was the effect of this asymmetric secularism on the perceptions of the majority community, which made this policy unsustainable in the long run. The majority began to think of Muslims as the privileged minority. Their separateness accentuated the suspicion with which the majority had viewed the Muslims since before the partition. Minor incidents, such as the alleged cheering by Muslims of a Pakistani team, were blown out of proportion. During times of communal tensions, unsubstantiated rumours were spread of storage of weapons and ammunition in the mosques. A stereotype of the Muslim emerged with four wives and several children.

The resentment was not restricted to the Hindu parties. Although they were the ones who openly spoke against these policies, they were easily sidelined by labelling them communalists, the worst epithet that could be hurled at anyone during that period. The real opposition was simmering within the ruling party. These forces were strong enough at one point to defeat Nehru’s nominee for the election of the Congress party president. However, after the death of Patel, these forces within the Congress did not have any leader who could challenge Nehru. So, they kept low. But the resentment among the Hindus continued to build. All it needed was a trigger and a slogan. The trigger was provided by the Shah Bano case and the slogan of ‘pseudo-secularism’ was provided by L.K.Advani. It found ready resonance among the Hindus. It is not necessary here to go into the details of the Shah Bano case, except that it was perceived differently by Muslims and Hindus. Muslims viewed the Supreme Court verdict as an attack on their right to live their life according to their religion; the Hindus, on the other hand, viewed it as the supremacy of India’s fundamental rights above religious beliefs, and the government climb down as the pampering of a spoilt community. The Shah Bano case signalled the end of the first phase of Indian secularism.

The second phase of Indian secularism started at Somnath (Gujarat) in a Toyota pick-up converted to look like a medieval Rath (chariot). The rider of that Rath, L. K. Advani, had a clear vision of where he was going. In taking the Rath from Somnath, a symbol of Hindu humiliation at the hands of Mahmood Ghaznavi, to Ayodhya, another perceived symbol of Hindu humiliation, Advani sought to combine the historical sense of humiliation with the perception of a pampered minority, to galvanize the Hindutva movement and convert it into a political vote bank for his party. He was helped in this by a pusillanimous government, which allowed him to arouse passion and hatred against a particular community. The only person who stood up to this challenge was an uncouth, nincompoop of a leader in Bihar: The chief minister of Bihar, Laloo Yadav, may have brought his state to the bottom of the country in terms of socio-economic indicators, but in banning the entry of Advani’s yath ratra, he has been able to maintain communal peace and harmony in his state.

Advani’s Rath yatra accomplished its purpose of arousing the Hindu sentiments for the building of a Ram temple in Ayodhya at the site of the Babri masjid and eventually resulted in the demolition of that monument by a frenzied mob. The state machinery looked on passively as this assault made mockery not only of Indian secularism but also the rule of law.

The demolition of the temple shocked the nation and, if properly handled, could have been used to arrest the rising majority communalism, just as the shock of Gandhi’s assassination curbed the rising Hindu communalism of an earlier era. The BJP ministry in UP resigned and the party was reduced to a minority in the subsequent state elections. However, the communal riots and serial bombings in Bombay, the soft handling of the VHP fanatics rampaging through the works of well-known artists and the non-punishments and delays in punishments of those involved in communal riots and the demolition of the Babri masjid encouraged those who were fanning the flames of communal fire. Indeed, the man who provided the spark for the razing of the Babri Masjid is today the Deputy Prime Minister of the country.

The communal frenzy reached its peak in the Gujarat riots of February-March 2002. For the first time in independent India’s history, riots were meticulously planned and organized. Members of the minority community and their commercial establishments were attacked on the basis of the prepared lists of the members of the community. The looters included not only the lumpen proletariat but also the middle class Hindus helping themselves with the booty in their Marutis. The state administration not only remained a silent spectator but also provided support and encouragement to the rioters. Compensations to riot victims were decided on the basis of their religion and their complaints either not registered or the justice system actively sabotaged to prevent the guilty from being brought to justice.

This then is the new, the ugly, phase of Indian secularism: anti-muslim, intolerant, bigoted, and destructive. The first phase merely contained the seeds of its own destruction. It created a perception of a privileged minority, which was in fact, discriminated against and kept backward. The new phase, however, is giving rise to fascist tendencies in the country, which, if not checked, could lead to a civil strife of unmanageable proportions. There is much talk these days of the root cause of terrorism. Here is a root cause. Nip it in the bud before it develops into a poisonous plant.