#Binge Reviewing my previous Reads # Hindutva, Indic
There are certain books that announce themselves not only as contributions to a political debate but as declarations of legitimacy. Swapan Dasgupta’s *Awakening Bharat Mata: The Political Beliefs of the Indian Right* is one such book. Published in 2019, it is not merely a collection of essays or a work of commentary; it is a carefully curated anthology meant to serve as a canon for a tradition that has often been caricatured or dismissed in the mainstream academic discourse of modern India.
By gathering voices that span more than a century—from V.D. Savarkar to Syama Prasad Mookerjee, and from Deendayal Upadhyaya to the present—Dasgupta sets out to prove that the Indian Right is not a passing aberration but a serious ideological current with depth, coherence, and continuity.
At first glance, the book looks deceptively simple: a series of writings from key figures of the Hindu Right, framed with introductions and contextualising commentary. But its ambition is far greater. Dasgupta’s project is, in many ways, an intellectual act of reclamation. For decades, the Right in India has been spoken about rather than listened to. It has been branded as communal, majoritarian, fascist, or worse.
What Dasgupta does here is take the Right’s own words — often polemical, sometimes profound — and arrange them in such a way that they speak as a tradition, not as isolated rants or stray provocations. He builds, in effect, a syllabus for anyone who wants to understand how the Indian Right imagines India.
The first thing that strikes the reader is Dasgupta’s tone. Unlike many works on the Right that are either celebratory hagiographies or fiery denunciations, Dasgupta writes with the practiced lucidity of a columnist. His introductions to each section are calm, polished, explanatory rather than confrontational. He wants his reader — who may not be a sympathiser — to lower their guard. “Here,” he seems to say, “is what these thinkers actually wrote. Read them for yourself, without the noise of second-hand polemics.”
This framing is crucial, because the very notion of an “Indian Right” is contentious. The Left and the liberal centre have long claimed the mantle of reason, secularism, and intellectual seriousness. The Right, by contrast, has often been portrayed as anti-intellectual, a politics of muscle and mob rather than of mind. Dasgupta takes direct aim at this caricature. His anthology insists that the Indian Right is not a sudden eruption but the product of a long historical conversation: one that wrestles with identity, selfhood, modernity, nationalism, and the civilisational idea of India.
The book’s selections take us through the genealogy of Right thought. Savarkar looms large, of course — his articulation of Hindutva as a cultural and civilisational identity remains foundational. But Dasgupta is careful not to make this merely a one-man show. He includes Syama Prasad Mookerjee, the founder of the Bharatiya Jana Sangh, whose speeches reveal a pragmatic blend of nationalism and opposition to Nehru’s centralism. He highlights Deendayal Upadhyaya’s “Integral Humanism”, an attempt to articulate a philosophical alternative to both Western liberalism and Marxism.
These inclusions matter. They remind us that the Indian Right is not merely about slogans and electoral campaigns; it has its own ideological scaffolding. Upadhyaya’s writings, for example, may not be widely read today outside the Sangh ecosystem, but they represent a serious attempt to imagine an indigenous model of development rooted in dharmic thought. Similarly, Mookerjee’s opposition to Article 370 or his views on national integration are not just political stances of the 1950s but part of an ongoing conversation about unity and diversity in India.
Dasgupta’s curation also highlights the diversity within the Right. While there is a common thread of cultural nationalism, the emphases differ. Savarkar is fiery, uncompromising, almost revolutionary in tone. Upadhyaya is philosophical, trying to balance tradition and modernity. Mookerjee is a constitutionalist, focused on parliamentary politics. By placing these voices side by side, the book allows us to see the Right not as a monolith but as a tradition with internal debates.
To appreciate the significance of *Awakening Bharat Mata*, one must understand the asymmetry of Indian political discourse. For decades after independence, the Nehruvian consensus dominated both politics and academia. The Indian Left had its own canon — Marx, Lenin, Gramsci, D.D. Kosambi, E.M.S. Namboodiripad. The liberal centre had its canon too — Nehru’s *Discovery of India*, Gandhi’s *Hind Swaraj, and Tagore’s humanist writings. But the Right was left in the margins, either demonised or ignored.
Dasgupta’s book is an attempt to correct that imbalance. By compiling and contextualising right-wing thought, he is in effect saying: “Here is our canon. Engage with it. Criticise it, if you must, but stop pretending it does not exist.” This is an act of legitimacy-building, of claiming intellectual respectability for a tradition long treated as anti-intellectual. And in the context of Indian politics today, when the Right is electorally dominant, the importance of such legitimacy cannot be overstated.
The greatest strength of the book is its accessibility. Dasgupta writes with clarity, never descending into jargon or polemic. His introductions provide just enough context to make the writings intelligible to a modern reader, without overshadowing the original texts. The selections themselves are judicious — neither overwhelming in length nor overly truncated.
Another strength is the very act of curation. By gathering these texts in one place, Dasgupta makes it possible for readers — especially younger ones — to engage directly with the sources rather than rely on caricatures. For a student of Indian politics, this anthology is invaluable: it provides primary texts that can be read, debated, and critiqued.
But appreciation need not be uncritical. The book has its blind spots, and the most significant is what one might call the sanitisation problem. In seeking to legitimise the Indian Right, Dasgupta understandably highlights its most intellectual and respectable strands. He foregrounds Upadhyaya’s philosophical musings, Mookerjee’s parliamentary speeches, and Savarkar’s civilisational arguments. What he largely leaves out is the rawer, more exclusionary rhetoric that has also been part of the Right’s history.
This is not dishonesty — no anthology can include everything — but it is curation with a purpose. The Right presented here is the Right as it would like to be remembered: cultured, thoughtful, responsible. The danger is that readers unfamiliar with the street-level realities of Hindutva politics may come away with an overly sanitised picture.
Yet perhaps this is precisely the point. Dasgupta is not writing as a neutral academic but as a participant in the ideological struggle of our times. His aim is not to provide a warts-and-all history but to showcase the best of the Right, to build its canon. In that sense, *Awakening Bharat Mata* should be read not as a neutral textbook but as a manifesto of intellectual legitimacy.
And as such, it succeeds. The Indian Right today is not merely a political force but a cultural one. To understand it, one must engage with its intellectual roots. Dasgupta’s anthology provides that entry point. Whether one agrees with the ideas or not, one cannot deny their historical significance.
Reading *Awakening Bharat Mata* is, for someone not already immersed in Right thought, an exercise in empathy. One may disagree with Savarkar’s vision of cultural nationalism, but one cannot deny its passion or its historical impact. One may find Upadhyaya’s Integral Humanism vague or utopian, but one must acknowledge its attempt to articulate a philosophy beyond imported ideologies. One may critique Mookerjee’s politics, but one must admit his role in shaping post-independence debates.
The act of reading, in this sense, is not endorsement but understanding. Dasgupta invites us to listen to these voices as they understood themselves, not as they have been portrayed by opponents. In doing so, he reminds us that intellectual traditions cannot be wished away; they must be engaged with.
In today’s India, where the Right is not only electorally dominant but also culturally assertive, this book matters as more than an anthology. It is a declaration: that the Right has an intellectual tradition, that it deserves to be read, and that it can claim a place in the history of ideas. For too long, political discourse in India has been trapped in binaries — secular vs communal, liberal vs reactionary. Dasgupta’s book, by curating the Right’s intellectual heritage, complicates those binaries.
It also serves a pedagogical purpose. For students, researchers, and curious readers, it provides access to primary texts that are otherwise scattered or hard to find. It enables debate at a higher level — not about caricatures but about ideas.
*Awakening Bharat Mata* is not a flawless book. It sanitises, it curates selectively, and it advocates more than it critiques. But within those limits, it achieves something important: it gives the Indian Right its intellectual canon. It insists that the Right be taken seriously as a tradition of thought, not merely as a politics of passion.
In that sense, it is both a book and a gesture. As a book, it provides texts, context, and accessibility. As a gesture, it signals the maturation of the Indian Right from a political force to an intellectual one. And for that reason, it deserves to be read appreciatively, even by those who may disagree with its ideas.
To awaken Bharat Mata, in Dasgupta’s telling, is not merely to raise slogans or win elections. It is to articulate a vision of India rooted in its own cultural and civilisational identity, and to claim that vision as part of the legitimate spectrum of political thought. One may argue with it, resist it, even oppose it. But after Dasgupta’s anthology, one can no longer pretend it does not exist.