Like any great tragedy, the communal violence in Gujarat is full of other sadnesses. One of these is that we have begun to lose faith in our ideals. We had already lost faith in socialism, but now we have begun to question the efficacy of secularism as well. Part of the reason is that it has been unable to prevent or stop this murderous carnage. A major failure of contemporary Indian public life is that we do not hear voices of moderate Hindus or Muslims. We only hear the shrill voices of extremists at both ends. It was not always so. Earlier, we had sensible public figures who were also steeped in religion. Mahatma Gandhi, Maulana Azad, Vivekananda used to speak with credibility on behalf of the vast majority of religiously minded Indians. Today, there is an unfortunate polarisation between an influential and articulate minority of secularists and the vast majority of silent, religiously minded Indians. Neither takes the trouble to understand the other, and what we have as a result is a dialogue of the deaf. The problem with many secularists is that they are or were once socialists. Not only do they not believe in God, but they actually hate God. They only see the dark side of religion--intolerance, murderous wars and nationalism. They forget that religion has given meaning to humanity since civilisation's dawn. Because secularists speak a language alien to the vast majority of Indians, they are only able to condemn communal violence but not stop it, as Gandhi could in East Bengal in 1947. Gandhi trudged through the Bengali countryside like a one-man peacekeeping force and kept Bengal quiet during the partition. Unfortunately, there were not Gandhi's--had there been a second one, then Punjab might have also escaped much of the partition tragedy. Our secularists have been influenced by a number of 19th century European thinkers, starting with Nietzsche, who declared famously that God is dead. Ludwig Feuerbach argued that God was a projection of the human imagination and thus an illusion. Marx said this illusion originated in the alienation of the capitalist worker to whom religion was like opium, a drug that soothed his pain. Once capitalism was destroyed the drug would not be needed. Marx understood religion's power and he saw it as socialism's main competitor. "Criticism of religion," he said, "is the prelude to all criticism," as he attempted man's most ambitious attempt to supplant religion with a doctrine about how life ought to be lived. But Emile Durkheim, a Frenchman, regarded religion a projection of society; its shared rituals and sentiments bound people together, and thus it wouldn't easily go away. Sigmund Freud, the founder of psychoanalysis, wrote in the "The Future of an Illusion" that religion, despite its many negative qualities, helped make civilisation possible. Without it life in society would be impossible unless everyone could be educated to behave morally. The media has rightly focused on Modi's failures of governance in Gujarat. His hands are covered in blood, and he should be sacked. But once he is gone, what happens next? Whom will we blame for the next communal riot? Communalism is surely more than governance issue. We need to ask once again, why did a million people die in the 1947 riots? Why couldn't we prevent that tragedy? Fifty-five years have gone by and we still do not have an answer to that question. And, as a nation, until we do, we shall not be able to sleep in peace. That answer too will not come from analysis, I expect, but from literature. But while we wait for our "War and Peace" to emerge, we have begun to realise that communal harmony in India will not come from converting India into an image of a secular non-religious West by weaning people away from religion, as the secularists had hoped. It will come when moderate religious leaders come forth in public life and begin to lead ordinary decent he people in the direction of a secular polity, and snuff out the evil voices of fundamentalism. Until these moderate voices emerge triumphant, we have to live with the sad truth that we have all manner of extremists amidst us who feel a passionate ethno-nationalist claim to a vision of a homeland, and a willingness to condone violence, plus a story line that many Indians will buy, in part because it plays into existing prejudices. With that they have probably got a winning hand, whether or not the interests they advance are noble. Meanwhile, I take consolation from a European woman's reaction to Gujarat, who says that in a country of a billion people, all of them with strong religious emotions, it is remarkable that there is so little violence. She finds that life on the Indian street is safer than almost anywhere.
May 6th 2002