EditorialReligious Nationalism

Religious Nationalism

Countries around the world have suffered the evil of communalism, and India has endured some of its darkest chapters. The Partition of 1947 witnessed horrific Hindu-Muslim violence that claimed more than 20 lakh lives. That tragedy left scars that have never fully healed and has been revisited repeatedly through outbreaks of communal violence. The 1984 anti-Sikh violence following the assassination of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi claimed at least 3,350 lives according to official figures, while independent estimates place the toll between 8,000 and 17,000. The 1989 Bhagalpur riots killed around 1,000 people. The 2002 Gujarat violence officially claimed 1,044 lives, though independent inquiries estimated nearly 2,000 deaths. More recently, the 2020 Delhi riots left 53 people dead. Communal tensions have existed since Independence, yet successive governments largely upheld the democratic principle that such violence was unacceptable. Even under governments that identified themselves as secular, communal clashes did occur and some states enacted anti-conversion laws. However, the difference was that governments publicly affirmed India’s commitment to pluralism and constitutional values rather than legitimising religious majoritarianism. The concern today is far more serious because legislation is increasingly framed to protect and promote the interests of the majority religion. Anti-conversion laws, now enacted in twelve states, have attracted criticism from constitutional scholars and international human rights organisations. Though many of these laws existed earlier, they remained largely dormant until after 2014, when they were revived and enforced vigorously in BJP ruled states. Critics argue that several provisions conflict with the constitutional guarantees of secularism and religious freedom. Together with measures such as the Citizenship Amendment Act, these laws are widely seen as creating a legal environment that disproportionately affects Christians and Muslims. Article 25 of the Constitution guarantees every citizen the right to freely profess, practise and propagate religion. Yet anti-conversion laws impose restrictions that many believe undermine this guarantee. In practice, conversion to Christianity often becomes the focus of criminal scrutiny, while campaigns encouraging Christians or Muslims to embrace Hinduism are presented as harmless “gharwapsi” or homecoming, even when the ancestors of many converts had originally followed indigenous tribal faiths rather than Hinduism. The climate created by these laws has coincided with growing reports of attacks on Christians, pastors and churches. Places of worship have been vandalised, believers assaulted, and videos have surfaced showing Christians being forced to renounce their faith and chant religious slogans. Such incidents create fear within minority communities and encourage those seeking political favour to act with impunity. One example is Assam, where Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma introduced the Assam Healing (Prevention of Evil) Practices Act, stating that its purpose was to curb evangelism and faith healing. At the same time, the proposed Foreign Contribution (Regulation) Amendment Bill, 2026 has raised concerns internationally. Critics, including US Congressman Riley Moore, argue that it could give the government greater control over churches and religious institutions. During 2021 and 2022, the government cancelled the registrations of 5,789 NGOs, with only 2% being Hindu organisations, while many were Christian or Catholic institutions. Hinduism has long been associated with compassion, non violence and pluralism. Hindutva, however, is a political ideology disguised as blueprint to defend and propagate Hinduism but unacceptable to the majority. The growing politicisation of religion threatens India’s secular democracy by weakening constitutional protections for minorities and eroding the inclusive vision on which the Republic was founded.

EDITOR PICKS

September To Remember

September 6 carries a painful dual significance in Naga political history. It marks the Matikhrü massacre of September 6, 1960, remembered as ‘Pochury Black Day’, and the 1964 Naga ceasefire, which came into effect on September 6, 1964. One represen...