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Voices of Dissent: An Essay
People have argued since time immemorial. Disagreement is a part of life, of human experience. But we now live in times when any form of protest in India is marked as anti-Indian and met with arguments that the very concept of dissent was imported into India from the West. As Romila Thapar explores in her timely historical essay, however, dissent has a long history in the subcontinent, even if its forms have evolved through the centuries.
In Voices of Dissent: An Essay, Thapar looks at the articulation of nonviolent dissent and relates it to various pivotal moments throughout India’s history. Beginning with Vedic times, she takes us from the second to the first millennium BCE, to the emergence of groups that were jointly called the Shramanas—the Jainas, Buddhists, and Ajivikas. Going forward in time, she also explores the views of the Bhakti sants and others of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and brings us to a major moment of dissent that helped to establish a free and democratic India: Mahatma Gandhi’s satyagraha. Then Thapar places in context the recent peaceful protests against India’s new, controversial citizenship law, maintaining that dissent in our time must be opposed to injustice and supportive of democratic rights so that society may change for the better.
Written by one of India’s best-known public intellectuals, Voices of Dissent will be essential reading not for anyone interested in India’s fascinating history, but also the direction in which the nation is headed.
In Voices of Dissent: An Essay, Thapar looks at the articulation of nonviolent dissent and relates it to various pivotal moments throughout India’s history. Beginning with Vedic times, she takes us from the second to the first millennium BCE, to the emergence of groups that were jointly called the Shramanas—the Jainas, Buddhists, and Ajivikas. Going forward in time, she also explores the views of the Bhakti sants and others of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and brings us to a major moment of dissent that helped to establish a free and democratic India: Mahatma Gandhi’s satyagraha. Then Thapar places in context the recent peaceful protests against India’s new, controversial citizenship law, maintaining that dissent in our time must be opposed to injustice and supportive of democratic rights so that society may change for the better.
Written by one of India’s best-known public intellectuals, Voices of Dissent will be essential reading not for anyone interested in India’s fascinating history, but also the direction in which the nation is headed.
172 pages, Hardcover
Published February 13, 2021
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226 people want to read
About the author
Romila Thapar
93 books357 followersRomila Thapar is an Indian historian and Professor Emeritus at the Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.
A graduate from Panjab University, Dr. Thapar completed her PhD in the School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London.
Her historical work portrays the origins of Hinduism as an evolving interplay between social forces. Her recent work on Somnath examines the evolution of the historiographies about the legendary Gujarat temple.
Thapar has been a visiting professor at Cornell University, the University of Pennsylvania, and the College de France in Paris. She was elected General President of the Indian History Congress in 1983 and a Corresponding Fellow of the British Academy in 1999.
A graduate from Panjab University, Dr. Thapar completed her PhD in the School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of London.
Her historical work portrays the origins of Hinduism as an evolving interplay between social forces. Her recent work on Somnath examines the evolution of the historiographies about the legendary Gujarat temple.
Thapar has been a visiting professor at Cornell University, the University of Pennsylvania, and the College de France in Paris. She was elected General President of the Indian History Congress in 1983 and a Corresponding Fellow of the British Academy in 1999.
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
November 3, 2020
Political, economic and social systems change over a period of time. The systems are never ideal in any part of the world and there is a constant shift in an effrot to make them better though some might end worse. In her recent book, Romila Thapar talks about one fundamental phenomenon which presents the foundation for these systems to function better - Dissent
Thapar traces the timeline of dissent over the historiography of the Indian subcontinent. Each phase in one way or the other has seen one or more forms of dissent. The author argues that creating an impression of a monolith unified religion does not hold water as demonstrated by several instances of dissent in Indian history. The first chapter details the meaning of the Self and the Other. Not just India every society needs to have an Other without which the Self loses meaning. And this dualism is only an outcome of the existence of dissent.
The Rig Veda has references to the existence of dasa and dasayu who do not follow the Vedic tradition. The self-other duality is extended to the Mauryan and the Gupta times where we have the Shramana and Brahmana split. The term Shramana was an umbrella term for non-believers bringing in Buddhists, Jains, Ajivikas and sometimes including the Charvakas. The Shramana as you would all know provide methods which are a breakaway from the Vedic ritualistic tradition and they were quite strong during the Mauryas until the wane during the Gupta age.
The idea of dissent continues several centuries through the Bhakti movement and Sufi movement where Sants and Pirs demonstrate that closeness to God is achieved through sheer devotion overcoming the Brahmanical methods. Romila Thapar states the concept of monolithic observation be it Hindu or Muslim is too much of simplification and is misleading originates with the writings of the colonial time period which is exploited by religious extremist forces from either religions.
There is an inquiry made into Gandhi's Satyagraha principle which was one of the foundations of the Indian freedom struggle - both Non Cooperation movement and the Civil disobedience movement. The author finishes the discussion with the highlight on the recent Shaheen Bagh protests in New Delhi against the Citizenship Amendment Act.
The book is brilliant in its construction of the argument that dissent is fundamental for the effective functioning of a democracy. The arguments in the essay are structured and through this exploration we also get perspectives on how religion and caste has changed in India over several centuries.
The only concern I had with the essay was it’s conciseness in terms of geography. If dissent is fundamental in a democratic country, not all countries operate the way in all parts of the world. Rather than accepting that an individual has the right to dissent, issues expand to tyrannical proportions and the opinion or the discussion disappears. What started as an isolated incident in a classroom in France has become a full scale diplomatic war. I would have very much liked the essay to provide a global view of dissent to understand how the phenomenon operates under different democracies.
Thapar traces the timeline of dissent over the historiography of the Indian subcontinent. Each phase in one way or the other has seen one or more forms of dissent. The author argues that creating an impression of a monolith unified religion does not hold water as demonstrated by several instances of dissent in Indian history. The first chapter details the meaning of the Self and the Other. Not just India every society needs to have an Other without which the Self loses meaning. And this dualism is only an outcome of the existence of dissent.
The Rig Veda has references to the existence of dasa and dasayu who do not follow the Vedic tradition. The self-other duality is extended to the Mauryan and the Gupta times where we have the Shramana and Brahmana split. The term Shramana was an umbrella term for non-believers bringing in Buddhists, Jains, Ajivikas and sometimes including the Charvakas. The Shramana as you would all know provide methods which are a breakaway from the Vedic ritualistic tradition and they were quite strong during the Mauryas until the wane during the Gupta age.
The idea of dissent continues several centuries through the Bhakti movement and Sufi movement where Sants and Pirs demonstrate that closeness to God is achieved through sheer devotion overcoming the Brahmanical methods. Romila Thapar states the concept of monolithic observation be it Hindu or Muslim is too much of simplification and is misleading originates with the writings of the colonial time period which is exploited by religious extremist forces from either religions.
There is an inquiry made into Gandhi's Satyagraha principle which was one of the foundations of the Indian freedom struggle - both Non Cooperation movement and the Civil disobedience movement. The author finishes the discussion with the highlight on the recent Shaheen Bagh protests in New Delhi against the Citizenship Amendment Act.
The book is brilliant in its construction of the argument that dissent is fundamental for the effective functioning of a democracy. The arguments in the essay are structured and through this exploration we also get perspectives on how religion and caste has changed in India over several centuries.
The only concern I had with the essay was it’s conciseness in terms of geography. If dissent is fundamental in a democratic country, not all countries operate the way in all parts of the world. Rather than accepting that an individual has the right to dissent, issues expand to tyrannical proportions and the opinion or the discussion disappears. What started as an isolated incident in a classroom in France has become a full scale diplomatic war. I would have very much liked the essay to provide a global view of dissent to understand how the phenomenon operates under different democracies.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 6, 2022
Even as the essay is premised on deep diving into the plurality of religions in the sub-continent as a tool to recognising the presence of dissent in history, it fails to emphasise enough on this plurality especially with respect to the class and caste discrepancies that are central to the region. It seemed like too many strands were clubbed to map out a historical trajectory of dissent with little nuance from the author. From the multiple religious practices of Dalits/Adivasis to Gandhi's problematic and prominent dismissal of them to 'unify the nation', nothing is explored as such except in a sentence here or there. It really did feel like primer 101 for anyone who doesn't know the D of dissent.
June 16, 2021
A brilliant essay which deals with various form of dissent starting for the first millennium. She emphasizes that dissent was not imported from the west as claimed by various ultra-nationalist forces rather it was present from the beginning.
June 13, 2024
A phrase I love to use for political theorists is that their favourite sport is 'linguistic gymnastics' – decent read, just stretched out way more than it needed to be. 2.5/5
July 9, 2025
Romila Thapar’s Voices of Dissent arrived in 2020 like a clarion call dressed as an essay. It’s short, accessible, and fired with urgency—arguing that dissent is not a foreign disruptor in Indian society, but rather its very marrow. From the śramaṇa countercultures of Buddhism and Jainism, to the Bhakti and Sufi mystics who scorned caste and orthodoxy, all the way to Gandhi and Ambedkar, Thapar draws a long and luminous arc of moral resistance. In her reading, dissent is not just a political act—it is civilizational continuity. And in a moment when protest is often dubbed “anti-national,” she places it instead at the heart of what India has always been.
But while the book begins as a historian’s essay, it ends as a polemic. And that’s where the roast begins—not to dismiss, but to engage harder.
Yes, the historical grounding is firm—Thapar’s command over early Indian intellectual traditions is, as always, formidable. Her portraits of Ashoka’s edicts, of heterodox traditions battling Vedic orthodoxy, and of plural thought coexisting with ritual order are deeply instructive. Her narrative reminds readers—especially in an age of mythic nation-building—that the Indian subcontinent has always been a site of dialogue, disruption, and dissent.
But the essay slowly sheds the robes of historical neutrality and dons the armour of political urgency. Thapar is visibly perturbed by the rise of Hindutva, the shrinking space for academic and journalistic freedom, and the use of sedition laws against students and critics. These concerns are valid—but her tone shifts from analytical to almost prophetic. The problem is not what she says, but what she doesn’t say.
The world of dissent she constructs is populated almost exclusively by progressive, secular figures—Buddha, Kabir, Basava, Gandhi, Ambedkar. But what of dissent from the Right?
What of the many reformers within the Hindu fold who critiqued dogma but upheld dharma?
What of Islamic or Christian dissenters, Dalit Christians negotiating caste within the church, or Sikh gurmat voices resisting both Mughal and colonial power?
What of conservative reformers or even disillusioned nationalists? These silences are telling.
There’s also no real attempt to grapple with why so many Indians find strength in nationalism or Hindutva. It's as if support for the current regime is purely the result of misinformation or fear, rather than a complicated response to decades of identity anxiety, economic stagnation, or perceived elite condescension.
In painting dissent as morally luminous and majoritarianism as wholly regressive, Thapar inadvertently turns dissent into an unexamined virtue—when in reality, dissent too can be bigoted, violent, or anti-democratic.
Think of movements that shout for “justice” but justify hate. Think of revolts that burn books instead of reading them. Dissent, too, needs critique.
Comparing Thapar to other historians sharpens the contrast. She aligns closely with Irfan Habib and D.N. Jha—firmly secular, Marxist-inflected scholars who see caste, class, and ideology as the deep grammar of Indian history. She stands opposed to someone like Meenakshi Jain, whose nationalist lens views Indian civilisation as fundamentally coherent, Vedic, and internally consistent.
And then there are the global pluralists like Sanjay Subrahmanyam—who would agree with Thapar’s anti-essentialism, but likely find her argument a bit too tidy, too urgent, too loaded.
By the end, Voices of Dissent begins to feel less like a historical essay and more like a rallying cry—a text that wants to remind you, reader, that democracy isn’t just a system, it’s a fight. In that, it succeeds. But if you came looking for a balanced dialogue, you may leave slightly dissatisfied. This is a book that tells one story very well, but history, as we know, is always a quarrel between many stories. And dissent, if it is to be celebrated, must also be examined—across ideologies, across faiths, across discomforts.
So here’s the real tribute to Thapar’s essay: read it, argue with it, throw marginal notes at its pages, and disagree boldly.
Because if dissent is indeed at the heart of Indian civilisation, then dissenting from Voices of Dissent is the most Indian thing you can do.
But while the book begins as a historian’s essay, it ends as a polemic. And that’s where the roast begins—not to dismiss, but to engage harder.
Yes, the historical grounding is firm—Thapar’s command over early Indian intellectual traditions is, as always, formidable. Her portraits of Ashoka’s edicts, of heterodox traditions battling Vedic orthodoxy, and of plural thought coexisting with ritual order are deeply instructive. Her narrative reminds readers—especially in an age of mythic nation-building—that the Indian subcontinent has always been a site of dialogue, disruption, and dissent.
But the essay slowly sheds the robes of historical neutrality and dons the armour of political urgency. Thapar is visibly perturbed by the rise of Hindutva, the shrinking space for academic and journalistic freedom, and the use of sedition laws against students and critics. These concerns are valid—but her tone shifts from analytical to almost prophetic. The problem is not what she says, but what she doesn’t say.
The world of dissent she constructs is populated almost exclusively by progressive, secular figures—Buddha, Kabir, Basava, Gandhi, Ambedkar. But what of dissent from the Right?
What of the many reformers within the Hindu fold who critiqued dogma but upheld dharma?
What of Islamic or Christian dissenters, Dalit Christians negotiating caste within the church, or Sikh gurmat voices resisting both Mughal and colonial power?
What of conservative reformers or even disillusioned nationalists? These silences are telling.
There’s also no real attempt to grapple with why so many Indians find strength in nationalism or Hindutva. It's as if support for the current regime is purely the result of misinformation or fear, rather than a complicated response to decades of identity anxiety, economic stagnation, or perceived elite condescension.
In painting dissent as morally luminous and majoritarianism as wholly regressive, Thapar inadvertently turns dissent into an unexamined virtue—when in reality, dissent too can be bigoted, violent, or anti-democratic.
Think of movements that shout for “justice” but justify hate. Think of revolts that burn books instead of reading them. Dissent, too, needs critique.
Comparing Thapar to other historians sharpens the contrast. She aligns closely with Irfan Habib and D.N. Jha—firmly secular, Marxist-inflected scholars who see caste, class, and ideology as the deep grammar of Indian history. She stands opposed to someone like Meenakshi Jain, whose nationalist lens views Indian civilisation as fundamentally coherent, Vedic, and internally consistent.
And then there are the global pluralists like Sanjay Subrahmanyam—who would agree with Thapar’s anti-essentialism, but likely find her argument a bit too tidy, too urgent, too loaded.
By the end, Voices of Dissent begins to feel less like a historical essay and more like a rallying cry—a text that wants to remind you, reader, that democracy isn’t just a system, it’s a fight. In that, it succeeds. But if you came looking for a balanced dialogue, you may leave slightly dissatisfied. This is a book that tells one story very well, but history, as we know, is always a quarrel between many stories. And dissent, if it is to be celebrated, must also be examined—across ideologies, across faiths, across discomforts.
So here’s the real tribute to Thapar’s essay: read it, argue with it, throw marginal notes at its pages, and disagree boldly.
Because if dissent is indeed at the heart of Indian civilisation, then dissenting from Voices of Dissent is the most Indian thing you can do.
April 11, 2021
A good read.
The book is about the how the dissents are rise in the past history to the current time.
The book is about the how the dissents are rise in the past history to the current time.
June 3, 2021
A brilliant, succinct longue duree history of dissent across caste, class, sect and communal lines by the doyen of South Asian history!
June 21, 2022
Short dense read. Was expecting something else from it perhaps.
November 18, 2025
Diving into this book as an audiotext didn't help. Things started to clear up after the first half.
Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews