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The Struggle for India's Soul: Nationalism and the Fate of Democracy
Over a billion Indians are alive today. But are some more Indian than others? To answer this question, central to the identity of all who belong to modern India, Shashi Tharoor explores hotly contested notions of nationalism, patriotism, citizenship and belonging.
Two opposing ideas of India have emerged: ethno-religious nationalism, versus civic nationalism. This struggle for India's soul now threatens to hollow out and destroy the remarkable concepts bestowed upon the nation at Independence: pluralism, secularism, inclusive nationhood.
The Constitution is under siege; institutions are being undermined; mythical pasts propagated; universities assailed; minorities demonized, and worse. Tharoor shows how these new attacks threaten the ideals India has long been admired for, as authoritarian leaders and their supporters push the country towards illiberalism and intolerance. If they succeed, millions will be stripped of their identity, and bogus theories of Indianness will take root in the soil of the subcontinent.
However, all is not yet lost. This erudite, lucid book, taking a long view of India's existential crisis, shows what needs to be done to save everything that is unique and valuable about India.
Two opposing ideas of India have emerged: ethno-religious nationalism, versus civic nationalism. This struggle for India's soul now threatens to hollow out and destroy the remarkable concepts bestowed upon the nation at Independence: pluralism, secularism, inclusive nationhood.
The Constitution is under siege; institutions are being undermined; mythical pasts propagated; universities assailed; minorities demonized, and worse. Tharoor shows how these new attacks threaten the ideals India has long been admired for, as authoritarian leaders and their supporters push the country towards illiberalism and intolerance. If they succeed, millions will be stripped of their identity, and bogus theories of Indianness will take root in the soil of the subcontinent.
However, all is not yet lost. This erudite, lucid book, taking a long view of India's existential crisis, shows what needs to be done to save everything that is unique and valuable about India.
516 pages, Kindle Edition
Published December 1, 2021
12 people are currently reading
284 people want to read
About the author
Shashi Tharoor
77 books3,074 followersShashi Tharoor is a member of the Indian Parliament from the Thiruvananthapuram constituency in Kerala. He previously served as the United Nations Under-Secretary General for Communications and Public Information and as the Indian Minister of State for External Affairs.
He is also a prolific author, columnist, journalist and a human rights advocate.
He has served on the Board of Overseers of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University. He is also an adviser to the International Committee of the Red Cross in Geneva and a Fellow of the New York Institute of the Humanities at New York University. He has also served as a trustee of the Aspen Institute, and the Advisory of the Indo-American Arts Council, the American India Foundation, the World Policy Journal, the Virtue Foundation and the human rights organization Breakthrough He is also a Patron of the Dubai Modern High School and the managing trustee of the Chandran Tharoor Foundation which he founded with his family and friends in the name of his late father, Chandran Tharoor.
Tharoor has written numerous books in English. Most of his literary creations are centred on Indian themes and they are markedly “Indo-nostalgic.” Perhaps his most famous work is The Great Indian Novel, published in 1989, in which he uses the narrative and theme of the famous Indian epic Mahabharata to weave a satirical story of Indian life in a non-linear mode with the characters drawn from the Indian Independence Movement. His novel Show Business (1992) was made into the film 'Bollywood'(1994). The late Ismail Merchant had announced his wish to make a film of Tharoor’s novel Riot shortly before Merchant’s death in 2005.
Tharoor has been a highly-regarded columnist in each of India's three best-known English-language newspapers, most recently for The Hindu newspaper (2001–2008) and in a weekly column, “Shashi on Sunday,” in the Times of India (January 2007 – December 2008). Following his resignation as Minister of State for External Affairs, he began a fortnightly column on foreign policy issues in the "Deccan Chronicle". Previously he was a columnist for the Gentleman magazine and the Indian Express newspaper, as well as a frequent contributor to Newsweek International and the International Herald Tribune. His Op-Eds and book reviews have appeared in the Washington Post, the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times, amongst other papers.
Tharoor began writing at the age of 6 and his first published story appeared in the “Bharat Jyoti”, the Sunday edition of the "Free press Journal", in Mumbai at age 10. His World War II adventure novel Operation Bellows, inspired by the Biggles books, was serialized in the Junior Statesman starting a week before his 11th birthday. Each of his books has been a best-seller in India. The Great Indian Novel is currently in its 28th edition in India and his newest volume. The Elephant, the Tiger and the Cellphone has undergone seven hardback re-printings there.
Tharoor has lectured widely on India, and is often quoted for his observations, including, "India is not, as people keep calling it, an underdeveloped country, but rather, in the context of its history and cultural heritage, a highly developed one in an advanced state of decay.". He has also coined a memorable comparison of India's "thali" to the American "melting pot": "If America is a melting pot, then to me India is a thali--a selection of sumptuous dishes in different bowls. Each tastes different, and does not necessarily mix with the next, but they belong together on the same plate, and they complement each other in making the meal a satisfying repast."
He is also a prolific author, columnist, journalist and a human rights advocate.
He has served on the Board of Overseers of the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University. He is also an adviser to the International Committee of the Red Cross in Geneva and a Fellow of the New York Institute of the Humanities at New York University. He has also served as a trustee of the Aspen Institute, and the Advisory of the Indo-American Arts Council, the American India Foundation, the World Policy Journal, the Virtue Foundation and the human rights organization Breakthrough He is also a Patron of the Dubai Modern High School and the managing trustee of the Chandran Tharoor Foundation which he founded with his family and friends in the name of his late father, Chandran Tharoor.
Tharoor has written numerous books in English. Most of his literary creations are centred on Indian themes and they are markedly “Indo-nostalgic.” Perhaps his most famous work is The Great Indian Novel, published in 1989, in which he uses the narrative and theme of the famous Indian epic Mahabharata to weave a satirical story of Indian life in a non-linear mode with the characters drawn from the Indian Independence Movement. His novel Show Business (1992) was made into the film 'Bollywood'(1994). The late Ismail Merchant had announced his wish to make a film of Tharoor’s novel Riot shortly before Merchant’s death in 2005.
Tharoor has been a highly-regarded columnist in each of India's three best-known English-language newspapers, most recently for The Hindu newspaper (2001–2008) and in a weekly column, “Shashi on Sunday,” in the Times of India (January 2007 – December 2008). Following his resignation as Minister of State for External Affairs, he began a fortnightly column on foreign policy issues in the "Deccan Chronicle". Previously he was a columnist for the Gentleman magazine and the Indian Express newspaper, as well as a frequent contributor to Newsweek International and the International Herald Tribune. His Op-Eds and book reviews have appeared in the Washington Post, the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times, amongst other papers.
Tharoor began writing at the age of 6 and his first published story appeared in the “Bharat Jyoti”, the Sunday edition of the "Free press Journal", in Mumbai at age 10. His World War II adventure novel Operation Bellows, inspired by the Biggles books, was serialized in the Junior Statesman starting a week before his 11th birthday. Each of his books has been a best-seller in India. The Great Indian Novel is currently in its 28th edition in India and his newest volume. The Elephant, the Tiger and the Cellphone has undergone seven hardback re-printings there.
Tharoor has lectured widely on India, and is often quoted for his observations, including, "India is not, as people keep calling it, an underdeveloped country, but rather, in the context of its history and cultural heritage, a highly developed one in an advanced state of decay.". He has also coined a memorable comparison of India's "thali" to the American "melting pot": "If America is a melting pot, then to me India is a thali--a selection of sumptuous dishes in different bowls. Each tastes different, and does not necessarily mix with the next, but they belong together on the same plate, and they complement each other in making the meal a satisfying repast."
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Displaying 1 - 9 of 9 reviews
March 10, 2022
The most important to say at the start of this is I don’t know of a single Australian politician who is as smart as this guy. He is interesting, witty, informed and engaging – as such, there is no chance at all he would make it as an Australian politician. I suspect he wouldn’t make it in the UK or US either. I mean, at one point in this he referred to a simulacrum – I would love to ask an Australian politician to define a simulacrum.
This is the second book by this author I have read. As an Irishman, reading his book on why the English need a good, hard slap for what they did to India matched virtually all of my prejudices. However, this book didn’t quite match my prejudices as well. I need to start by saying something. This is a book about nationalism – mostly about the differences between good and bad nationalism. The author considers himself to be a good nationalist, and the current Prime Minister of India, Modi as a bad nationalist. I am totally onside with his assessment, by the way – that Modi is a bad nationalist – I’m just not sure there is such a thing as a ‘good nationalist’.
I think Modi's Hindu nationalism smells far too much like the sectarianism that intermittently tears Northern Ireland, where I was born, apart. My only advice on this type of nationalism is ‘don’t play with that shit’ – you will pay and pay and pay and every invoice will be payable in blood. Once that genie is out of the bottle it doesn’t go back in.
As the author says here, India is perhaps the most diverse nation on earth. I read recently that India is predicted to be the world’s largest Muslim nation by 2050. That is, by then it will have more Muslims than Indonesia. The assumption we often have in the West that India is basically Hindu couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, he explains that fewer than half of the population of India speak Hindi, that it is hardly spoken in the South of India at all – even by Hindus – and that India’s linguistic diversity is an excellent example of all of the rest of India’s diversity.
A lot of this went over my head – in the sense that I don’t really know enough about India or Indian politics to judge what I was being told and also knowing that a reasonable person writing things that sound reasonable can end up leading me down the garden path. That said, anti-Muslim racism is never going to be something I’m going to find all that appealing. Oh, and if you are going to say ‘Islam is not a race’ – well, yeah, there are, in fact, no ‘races’ – races are a culturally constructed myths designed to isolate, dehumanise and ultimately eradicate people who are in one way or another defined as being different from you. There are no varieties of it that do not smell of death.
He says a couple of times that India secularism needs to be understood as not being anti-religious, since he sees India as a deeply religious and spiritual nation – but that it needs to be secular since it embraces a rich tapestry of religions and religious traditions. I’m not sure this isn’t what secularism means everywhere – although, sometimes the religious seek to make it sounds as if it is a synonym for atheism. However, his point, reiterated throughout this, is that Hindu Nationalism is killing the soul of India. As someone who believes that embracing diversity is our only hope on this planet, India ought to be - and he says has been - able to stand as an example to us all for such a future.
At the start of this book he spends a long time discussing the varieties of nationalism – and the difference between nationalism and patriotism. As I said, with Diogenes, I would rather be a citizen of the world, than of a country. But I do see that we are tied to place and ought to engage with the political realties and problems associated with our fellow citizens. However, as he was talking about the times when he felt most moved by being Indian, moved by his national pride, every example he gave related to sport. The thing is that I see this all the other way around. I see sport as a kind of preparation for nationalism of the worst kind, rather than an example of ‘good national pride’. That is, we are randomly assigned to sporting teams (go the blues, up the reds, kill ‘em greens) and we then do the whole ‘my team over all other teams’ rubbish, just as we do for our countries in wars. Sport trains us in exactly this nonsense – my team, right or wrong. You might be able to see now why I never got into politics.
That said, this is a deeply interesting book and one that gives multiple insights into India that are otherwise difficult for people outside of India to ever really see.
This is the second book by this author I have read. As an Irishman, reading his book on why the English need a good, hard slap for what they did to India matched virtually all of my prejudices. However, this book didn’t quite match my prejudices as well. I need to start by saying something. This is a book about nationalism – mostly about the differences between good and bad nationalism. The author considers himself to be a good nationalist, and the current Prime Minister of India, Modi as a bad nationalist. I am totally onside with his assessment, by the way – that Modi is a bad nationalist – I’m just not sure there is such a thing as a ‘good nationalist’.
I think Modi's Hindu nationalism smells far too much like the sectarianism that intermittently tears Northern Ireland, where I was born, apart. My only advice on this type of nationalism is ‘don’t play with that shit’ – you will pay and pay and pay and every invoice will be payable in blood. Once that genie is out of the bottle it doesn’t go back in.
As the author says here, India is perhaps the most diverse nation on earth. I read recently that India is predicted to be the world’s largest Muslim nation by 2050. That is, by then it will have more Muslims than Indonesia. The assumption we often have in the West that India is basically Hindu couldn’t be further from the truth. In fact, he explains that fewer than half of the population of India speak Hindi, that it is hardly spoken in the South of India at all – even by Hindus – and that India’s linguistic diversity is an excellent example of all of the rest of India’s diversity.
A lot of this went over my head – in the sense that I don’t really know enough about India or Indian politics to judge what I was being told and also knowing that a reasonable person writing things that sound reasonable can end up leading me down the garden path. That said, anti-Muslim racism is never going to be something I’m going to find all that appealing. Oh, and if you are going to say ‘Islam is not a race’ – well, yeah, there are, in fact, no ‘races’ – races are a culturally constructed myths designed to isolate, dehumanise and ultimately eradicate people who are in one way or another defined as being different from you. There are no varieties of it that do not smell of death.
He says a couple of times that India secularism needs to be understood as not being anti-religious, since he sees India as a deeply religious and spiritual nation – but that it needs to be secular since it embraces a rich tapestry of religions and religious traditions. I’m not sure this isn’t what secularism means everywhere – although, sometimes the religious seek to make it sounds as if it is a synonym for atheism. However, his point, reiterated throughout this, is that Hindu Nationalism is killing the soul of India. As someone who believes that embracing diversity is our only hope on this planet, India ought to be - and he says has been - able to stand as an example to us all for such a future.
At the start of this book he spends a long time discussing the varieties of nationalism – and the difference between nationalism and patriotism. As I said, with Diogenes, I would rather be a citizen of the world, than of a country. But I do see that we are tied to place and ought to engage with the political realties and problems associated with our fellow citizens. However, as he was talking about the times when he felt most moved by being Indian, moved by his national pride, every example he gave related to sport. The thing is that I see this all the other way around. I see sport as a kind of preparation for nationalism of the worst kind, rather than an example of ‘good national pride’. That is, we are randomly assigned to sporting teams (go the blues, up the reds, kill ‘em greens) and we then do the whole ‘my team over all other teams’ rubbish, just as we do for our countries in wars. Sport trains us in exactly this nonsense – my team, right or wrong. You might be able to see now why I never got into politics.
That said, this is a deeply interesting book and one that gives multiple insights into India that are otherwise difficult for people outside of India to ever really see.
February 25, 2022
The book is a scathing criticism of the BJP government in India. I think this is a good book to read for Indian political science enthusiasts. However, it’s important to remember that the author comes from a political standpoint of his own that, by its very nature, is critical of the ruling government. Tharoor’s grandiose claims of the greatness of Congress made my eyes roll. Nonetheless, his arguments are sound, have logic and can be corroborated by other scholarly literature.
May 11, 2022
*Warning Spoilers*
Tharoor’s thesis topic is an interesting one: In the post-Raj era, there is a ‘struggle for India’s soul’ between the (ethnically & religiously heterogeneous) Indian Civic nationalism of Nehru/Gandhi, and the ethno-religious (Hindu) nationalism of Modi & his Hindutva forefathers. Unsurprisingly, for readers with an awareness of Tharoor, he opts for the former.
Ironically, the strongest parts of this book are those not concerned with India at all, such as the initial foray into the concept of Nationalism. Here, Tharoor provides a refreshing update to Benedict Anderson’s magisterial classic, Imagined Communities.
It is worth noting that in addition to being a prestigious academic, Tharoor is an incumbent Indian National Congress (INC) politician, who would regard himself as thoroughly moulded in the image of Jawaharlal Nehru (India’s first Prime Minister & INC President). These circumstances make Tharoor’s account of his subject matter highly partisan; although to his credit, he makes no pretence to hide this and wears his partisanship on his sleeve, which I find admirable for its integrity.
Tharoor’s critiques of Hindutva ideology and the BJP’s track record whilst in office seem well made, albeit partisan. These are condensed and updated from his previous work, Why I Am A Hindu. In this current volume, he comments favourably upon Modi’s facility for selling himself to the electorate, and the immense capability of the BJP machine when utilising social media for political campaigning, which takes them from strength to strength. (Tharoor has also written a book specifically on Modi - The Paradoxical Prime Minister: Narendra Modi And His India).
One of the strength’s of the BJP that Tharoor underemphasises, is the great affective connection many Hindus have with Hindutva (and by extension it’s representation through Modi and the BJP). He notes that his friend Pratap Bhanu Mehta advises him that his attempts to discredit Hindutva ideology with logical debate and studious critiques of the RSS/BJP’s interpretations of Vedic texts are unlikely to be effective. I would agree with this assessment as from my understanding, rightly or wrongly, the resonance with Hindutva is based on a deep irrationalism (used here in the philosophical as opposed to pejorative sense). Moreover, Hindutva fulfils an ‘epistemic need’ to create an internally consistent image of the world (or at least their perceived world in the form of Akhand Bharat or ‘undivided India’), it fulfils existential needs by imbuing it’s adherent’s lives with certainty (a kind of Vedic fatalism), security and environmental control, and fulfils social needs to hold one’s self & group (Hindus) in positive regard, whilst holding opposing groups (eg Muslims) in negative regard. A further term which Tharoor employs that is pertenant here is the ‘republic of fear’, suggesting that the BJP’s success at instilling fear in the populous (modelled on the British Colonial method) has mitigated for any potential backlash to objective policy failures (demonetisation and land lost to China). This interestingly aligns with Aasim Sajjad Akhtar’s concept of the ‘dialectic of fear & desire’ in his book The Struggle for Hegemony in Pakistan. Akhtar posits that fear of status loss and a desire for social mobility have been successfully instilled in Pakistan’s new middle class by Imran Khan, in order to win overwhelming support for his equally authoritarian party (Khan even recently showered praise on Modi’s authoritarianism - “No one can tell Indian what to do.”). In the BJP’s case, they have instilled fear into the populous through disseminating islamophobic conspiracy theories such as ‘love jihadism’, and instilled desire in the ‘other backward classes’ through guarantees to advanced them in society. The successful fulfilment of epistemic, existential and social needs by Hindutva, together with the BJP’s employment of the dialectic of fear and desire, may ultimately provide an effective defence to even the most eloquent of Tharoor’s famed orations.
Next we turn to Tharoor’s reflections on the performance of INC over the years, which are disappointingly, but not unexpectedly, uncritical; skirting over the party’s dynastic, authoritarian and majoritarian tendencies.
It would be instructive to compare these reflections with another’s appraisal of INC’s performance. Achin Vanaik notes in his essay for New Left Review - ‘India’s Two Hegemonies’ [INC & BJP] - that “the price paid by [the INC’s] dependence, first upon [Jawaharlal] Nehru, then his descendants, to provide a face for this machine would be a high one, as dynastic rot set in: Indira (authoritarian), Sanjay (vicious), Rajiv (corrupt), Sonia (secretive), Rahul (vacillating). The Nehru-Gandhi family’s right to rule would become a deadweight on the party.”
Indeed this unwavering support for dynasty was reasserted after Congress’s poor performance in the 2019 general election (INC attained 52 seats, up from 44; whilst BJP attained 303, up from 282). Congress president Rahul Gandhi tendered his resignation, after leading the party to a disappointing electoral performance, however the Congress Working Committee (CWC), the party’s highest decision-making body, unanimously rejected his resignation and instead bestowed him with powers to completely overhaul the party’s structure. (Ultimately, Rahul upheld his decision to resign and in August 2019 the CWC unanimously moved to reinstate him mother and former Congress President, Sonia Gandhi, as interim President - where she remains to this day). It would seem to me that such dynasticism has no place in a Civic Nationalist polity.
Vanaik also notes that, “Indira Gandhi - and even more so her son Rajiv, after her assassination in 1984 - turned from dirigisme to deregulation (for domestic and international capital) and repression (for labour).”
I think it would be reasonable to question the validity of the designation ‘Civic Nationalism’ to the INC’s rule in India, particularly during Indira Gandhi’s (implemented) ‘Emergency’, where numerous Sikh separatists were murdered in their temples under her orders. Tharoor does allude to the Emergency towards the end of the book, when comparing it to China’s authoritarianism. The latter he critiques directly, the former only by association.
Achin Vanaik also purports that Sardar Patel, post-colonial India’s first deputy prime minister, was sceptical of the place that Muslims had in Indian society and outright opposed to the presence of communists, despite the communists forming India’s official opposition, with a democratic mandate from the Indian people. It could be argued that these revelations give truth to the lie of Tharoor’s imagined Indian Civic Nationalism; however Tharoor addresses these critiques explicitly, suggesting that whilst Patel may have held these views, he always put the Civic Nationalism of Nehru above them and backed Nehru’s legislation despite personal reservations.
Anti-communist tendencies were not however purely the reserve of Patel, and were propagated violently by INC over the years. Notably, their first president of the 21st Century, Manmohan Singh, branded the Naxalites (a Maoist group constituted of marginalised, dispossessed ethnic minorities known as Adivasi) the ‘greatest internal security threat to our country’.
Unfortunately, Tharoor’s loyalty to his party under the leadership of Sonia Gandhi, prohibits him from fully engaging with these critiques. Throughout the book, his reflections on Congress seem preoccupied with the ideological first principles of the party, as opposed to (to mutalate a phrase from the Brezhnev era) ‘actually existing congressism’. This would be more consistent if he focussed on critiquing Hindutva from first principles too, however he dedicated many pages (not unwarrantedly) to critiquing the BJP’s time in office.
In the latter part of the book Tharoor comes close to critiquing Congress on their apparent acquiescence to (the sometimes lethal) ‘cow vigilantism’, where Hindutva mobs attack those involved with the beef industry, for slaughtering an animal they venerate. Tharoor even goes as far to say, “…one of the questions I find myself increasingly being asked is: ‘Isn’t the Congress now practising a form of ‘soft-Hindutva’? Haven’t you become ‘BJP Lite’?” In what appears to be a textbook example of Cognitive Dissonance, Tharoor concludes, “The short answer is, no.” Despite Tharoor’s presentation of the BJP’s values being antithetical to Congress, there have been a substantial number of defections from INC to BJP since 2014 (as well as defections in the other direction). From this limited and anecdotal evidence, one may surmise that Congress’s purported Civic Nationalism and BJP’s purported ethno-nationalism may not be so mutually exclusive. (Although it is worth stating here that Tharoor himself is clearly neither an ethno-nationalist, nor tempted to ‘lean into’ Hindutvu-lite posturing for political expediency).
I think one final point worth mentioning pertaining to INC, is it is unclear what they stand for today. The politically, culturally and geographically heterogeneous party was popularised and held together over a commitment to independence from the British Raj. It has now been over seven decades since partition. From an external perspective the party seems somewhat ideologically exhausted, and if their ideology is reducible to a liberal and secular civic nationalism, with reverence for the constitution, then they are no longer the only party that fills such a niche. Some might even argue that the Aam Aadmi Party fill this niche better.
Moving on from Tharoor’s appraisal of Congress, his handling of Partition is equally unnuanced, reducing Nehru to omnibenevolence incarnate and Jinnah to the antithesis. His arguments on partition are a replication of the ‘Pro-Nehru camp’ narrative, expanded upon further in his earlier work, Inglorious Empire. Unfortunately, reality is not that simple, with both Jinnah and Nehru having their flaws. Tharoor offers the critique that Jinnah’s Western tendencies for alcohol and pork makes him a hypocritical Muslim rather than a liberal Muslim. This seemed rather jarring after Tharoor castigated the BNP for their dogmatic expectations of Indian nationals.
There are a few interesting moments in the book when Tharoor himself seems to argue for policies against Civic Nationalism. Notably, when he voices support for the distribution of money to states, and the allocation of Lok Sabha (Lower House of Parliament) seats based on the 1971 census figures. This in effect rewards the Southern states for performing well in terms of female education, emancipation and family planning; with Kerala consequently experiencing only a 4.1% population rise between 2001-2011, compared to a 20% average across some northern states. Tharoor’s reasoning is well made that if money and parliamentary seats were allocated based on population, this would incentivise population growth over female emancipation and human development; however the problem still remains that, as he rightly acknowledges, his position undermines representative democracy.
Another interesting statement Tharoor makes is, “…as I have often pointed out with pride, in May 2004, India witnessed a general election victory by a woman leader of Roman Catholic background, and Italian heritage (Sonia Gandhi) making way for a Sikh (Manmohan Singh) to be sworn in as Prime Minister by a Muslim (President Abdul Kalam) - in a country 80% Hindu.” Whilst I appreciate (and support) Tharoor’s positive sentiments towards heterogenous governance and representation, I could understand how Hindu majoritarians may feel aggrieved by the seemingly disproportionate representation at the top.
Despite these critiques, Tharoor’s book is well-researched, imbued with his characteristic literariness, and pathbreaking; and I am sympathetic to his imagining of an India that treats all equally, regardless of caste, class, ethnicity, gender and religion.
Tharoor’s thesis topic is an interesting one: In the post-Raj era, there is a ‘struggle for India’s soul’ between the (ethnically & religiously heterogeneous) Indian Civic nationalism of Nehru/Gandhi, and the ethno-religious (Hindu) nationalism of Modi & his Hindutva forefathers. Unsurprisingly, for readers with an awareness of Tharoor, he opts for the former.
Ironically, the strongest parts of this book are those not concerned with India at all, such as the initial foray into the concept of Nationalism. Here, Tharoor provides a refreshing update to Benedict Anderson’s magisterial classic, Imagined Communities.
It is worth noting that in addition to being a prestigious academic, Tharoor is an incumbent Indian National Congress (INC) politician, who would regard himself as thoroughly moulded in the image of Jawaharlal Nehru (India’s first Prime Minister & INC President). These circumstances make Tharoor’s account of his subject matter highly partisan; although to his credit, he makes no pretence to hide this and wears his partisanship on his sleeve, which I find admirable for its integrity.
Tharoor’s critiques of Hindutva ideology and the BJP’s track record whilst in office seem well made, albeit partisan. These are condensed and updated from his previous work, Why I Am A Hindu. In this current volume, he comments favourably upon Modi’s facility for selling himself to the electorate, and the immense capability of the BJP machine when utilising social media for political campaigning, which takes them from strength to strength. (Tharoor has also written a book specifically on Modi - The Paradoxical Prime Minister: Narendra Modi And His India).
One of the strength’s of the BJP that Tharoor underemphasises, is the great affective connection many Hindus have with Hindutva (and by extension it’s representation through Modi and the BJP). He notes that his friend Pratap Bhanu Mehta advises him that his attempts to discredit Hindutva ideology with logical debate and studious critiques of the RSS/BJP’s interpretations of Vedic texts are unlikely to be effective. I would agree with this assessment as from my understanding, rightly or wrongly, the resonance with Hindutva is based on a deep irrationalism (used here in the philosophical as opposed to pejorative sense). Moreover, Hindutva fulfils an ‘epistemic need’ to create an internally consistent image of the world (or at least their perceived world in the form of Akhand Bharat or ‘undivided India’), it fulfils existential needs by imbuing it’s adherent’s lives with certainty (a kind of Vedic fatalism), security and environmental control, and fulfils social needs to hold one’s self & group (Hindus) in positive regard, whilst holding opposing groups (eg Muslims) in negative regard. A further term which Tharoor employs that is pertenant here is the ‘republic of fear’, suggesting that the BJP’s success at instilling fear in the populous (modelled on the British Colonial method) has mitigated for any potential backlash to objective policy failures (demonetisation and land lost to China). This interestingly aligns with Aasim Sajjad Akhtar’s concept of the ‘dialectic of fear & desire’ in his book The Struggle for Hegemony in Pakistan. Akhtar posits that fear of status loss and a desire for social mobility have been successfully instilled in Pakistan’s new middle class by Imran Khan, in order to win overwhelming support for his equally authoritarian party (Khan even recently showered praise on Modi’s authoritarianism - “No one can tell Indian what to do.”). In the BJP’s case, they have instilled fear into the populous through disseminating islamophobic conspiracy theories such as ‘love jihadism’, and instilled desire in the ‘other backward classes’ through guarantees to advanced them in society. The successful fulfilment of epistemic, existential and social needs by Hindutva, together with the BJP’s employment of the dialectic of fear and desire, may ultimately provide an effective defence to even the most eloquent of Tharoor’s famed orations.
Next we turn to Tharoor’s reflections on the performance of INC over the years, which are disappointingly, but not unexpectedly, uncritical; skirting over the party’s dynastic, authoritarian and majoritarian tendencies.
It would be instructive to compare these reflections with another’s appraisal of INC’s performance. Achin Vanaik notes in his essay for New Left Review - ‘India’s Two Hegemonies’ [INC & BJP] - that “the price paid by [the INC’s] dependence, first upon [Jawaharlal] Nehru, then his descendants, to provide a face for this machine would be a high one, as dynastic rot set in: Indira (authoritarian), Sanjay (vicious), Rajiv (corrupt), Sonia (secretive), Rahul (vacillating). The Nehru-Gandhi family’s right to rule would become a deadweight on the party.”
Indeed this unwavering support for dynasty was reasserted after Congress’s poor performance in the 2019 general election (INC attained 52 seats, up from 44; whilst BJP attained 303, up from 282). Congress president Rahul Gandhi tendered his resignation, after leading the party to a disappointing electoral performance, however the Congress Working Committee (CWC), the party’s highest decision-making body, unanimously rejected his resignation and instead bestowed him with powers to completely overhaul the party’s structure. (Ultimately, Rahul upheld his decision to resign and in August 2019 the CWC unanimously moved to reinstate him mother and former Congress President, Sonia Gandhi, as interim President - where she remains to this day). It would seem to me that such dynasticism has no place in a Civic Nationalist polity.
Vanaik also notes that, “Indira Gandhi - and even more so her son Rajiv, after her assassination in 1984 - turned from dirigisme to deregulation (for domestic and international capital) and repression (for labour).”
I think it would be reasonable to question the validity of the designation ‘Civic Nationalism’ to the INC’s rule in India, particularly during Indira Gandhi’s (implemented) ‘Emergency’, where numerous Sikh separatists were murdered in their temples under her orders. Tharoor does allude to the Emergency towards the end of the book, when comparing it to China’s authoritarianism. The latter he critiques directly, the former only by association.
Achin Vanaik also purports that Sardar Patel, post-colonial India’s first deputy prime minister, was sceptical of the place that Muslims had in Indian society and outright opposed to the presence of communists, despite the communists forming India’s official opposition, with a democratic mandate from the Indian people. It could be argued that these revelations give truth to the lie of Tharoor’s imagined Indian Civic Nationalism; however Tharoor addresses these critiques explicitly, suggesting that whilst Patel may have held these views, he always put the Civic Nationalism of Nehru above them and backed Nehru’s legislation despite personal reservations.
Anti-communist tendencies were not however purely the reserve of Patel, and were propagated violently by INC over the years. Notably, their first president of the 21st Century, Manmohan Singh, branded the Naxalites (a Maoist group constituted of marginalised, dispossessed ethnic minorities known as Adivasi) the ‘greatest internal security threat to our country’.
Unfortunately, Tharoor’s loyalty to his party under the leadership of Sonia Gandhi, prohibits him from fully engaging with these critiques. Throughout the book, his reflections on Congress seem preoccupied with the ideological first principles of the party, as opposed to (to mutalate a phrase from the Brezhnev era) ‘actually existing congressism’. This would be more consistent if he focussed on critiquing Hindutva from first principles too, however he dedicated many pages (not unwarrantedly) to critiquing the BJP’s time in office.
In the latter part of the book Tharoor comes close to critiquing Congress on their apparent acquiescence to (the sometimes lethal) ‘cow vigilantism’, where Hindutva mobs attack those involved with the beef industry, for slaughtering an animal they venerate. Tharoor even goes as far to say, “…one of the questions I find myself increasingly being asked is: ‘Isn’t the Congress now practising a form of ‘soft-Hindutva’? Haven’t you become ‘BJP Lite’?” In what appears to be a textbook example of Cognitive Dissonance, Tharoor concludes, “The short answer is, no.” Despite Tharoor’s presentation of the BJP’s values being antithetical to Congress, there have been a substantial number of defections from INC to BJP since 2014 (as well as defections in the other direction). From this limited and anecdotal evidence, one may surmise that Congress’s purported Civic Nationalism and BJP’s purported ethno-nationalism may not be so mutually exclusive. (Although it is worth stating here that Tharoor himself is clearly neither an ethno-nationalist, nor tempted to ‘lean into’ Hindutvu-lite posturing for political expediency).
I think one final point worth mentioning pertaining to INC, is it is unclear what they stand for today. The politically, culturally and geographically heterogeneous party was popularised and held together over a commitment to independence from the British Raj. It has now been over seven decades since partition. From an external perspective the party seems somewhat ideologically exhausted, and if their ideology is reducible to a liberal and secular civic nationalism, with reverence for the constitution, then they are no longer the only party that fills such a niche. Some might even argue that the Aam Aadmi Party fill this niche better.
Moving on from Tharoor’s appraisal of Congress, his handling of Partition is equally unnuanced, reducing Nehru to omnibenevolence incarnate and Jinnah to the antithesis. His arguments on partition are a replication of the ‘Pro-Nehru camp’ narrative, expanded upon further in his earlier work, Inglorious Empire. Unfortunately, reality is not that simple, with both Jinnah and Nehru having their flaws. Tharoor offers the critique that Jinnah’s Western tendencies for alcohol and pork makes him a hypocritical Muslim rather than a liberal Muslim. This seemed rather jarring after Tharoor castigated the BNP for their dogmatic expectations of Indian nationals.
There are a few interesting moments in the book when Tharoor himself seems to argue for policies against Civic Nationalism. Notably, when he voices support for the distribution of money to states, and the allocation of Lok Sabha (Lower House of Parliament) seats based on the 1971 census figures. This in effect rewards the Southern states for performing well in terms of female education, emancipation and family planning; with Kerala consequently experiencing only a 4.1% population rise between 2001-2011, compared to a 20% average across some northern states. Tharoor’s reasoning is well made that if money and parliamentary seats were allocated based on population, this would incentivise population growth over female emancipation and human development; however the problem still remains that, as he rightly acknowledges, his position undermines representative democracy.
Another interesting statement Tharoor makes is, “…as I have often pointed out with pride, in May 2004, India witnessed a general election victory by a woman leader of Roman Catholic background, and Italian heritage (Sonia Gandhi) making way for a Sikh (Manmohan Singh) to be sworn in as Prime Minister by a Muslim (President Abdul Kalam) - in a country 80% Hindu.” Whilst I appreciate (and support) Tharoor’s positive sentiments towards heterogenous governance and representation, I could understand how Hindu majoritarians may feel aggrieved by the seemingly disproportionate representation at the top.
Despite these critiques, Tharoor’s book is well-researched, imbued with his characteristic literariness, and pathbreaking; and I am sympathetic to his imagining of an India that treats all equally, regardless of caste, class, ethnicity, gender and religion.
October 4, 2025
While I’m not a big fan of nationalism, I also find it difficult to dislike Mr. Tharoor. He is extremely intelligent and knows how to articulate himself. One could even argue that he’s the left-wing counterpart of Douglas Murray—though Douglas is stronger at debating, while Shashi at writing.
As I read the book, I became curious to understand why an intellectual like the author would embrace nationalism, despite being fully aware of its flaws, narrow-mindedness, contradictions, and double standards.
Throughout the book, Shashi was trying to make bit one point: he embraces patriotism and civic nationalism, while rejecting ethno-nationalism. I truly enjoy his beautiful language, but at times I did feel this message was repeated too often, with some chapters feel redundant.
Many readers may be touched by Shashi’s strong attachment to his Indianness—so strong that he refused British citizenship and was willing to pay a high price to remain Indian. Yet I wonder if this speaks less to his passion and more to his privilege. While many ordinary Indians are eager (and understandably so) to move to more prosperous countries, Shashi decided to return to India. Not everyone has the privilege of choosing between such options. This reminds me of Aung San Suu Kyi: also British-educated, she too returned to her homeland to pursue politics. While Suu Kyi embraced ethno-nationalism and proved indifferent to much of Burmese Muslim's suffering, both she and Shashi shared a Western education and elite background. That gave them both the motivation—and perhaps the sense of duty—to “improve” their home countries. But I’m not sure how much ordinary people can relate to that.
Why do I say this? Born in a small town in China, I do feel attached to my neighbours and friends who live in the same area. But I don’t feel the same connection to Chinese living far from my province. The only reason we all identify as “Chinese” today is not by shared landscape or historical glory as what Shashi claims (these can be invented or manipulated by whoever rules the country), but because we happen to be governed by the same centralised political system. For an elite like Shashi, the perspective is different: with a much stronger motivation to govern India as a nation, civic nationalism becomes a useful justification.
What Shashi embraces—civic nationalism, socialism, minority rights, and climate action—will be very familiar to left wingers living in a Western democracy, not least Australia. But how much this resonates in India is questionable. One can easily agree that Modi’s narrow-minded nationalism is dangerous and can lead to disaster, but I’m not convinced Shashi’s strategies will work either. They sound too idealistic, too polished in theory, to translate into reality—especially in a country as rural, diverse, and in need of economic development and female empowerment as India.
As I read the book, I became curious to understand why an intellectual like the author would embrace nationalism, despite being fully aware of its flaws, narrow-mindedness, contradictions, and double standards.
Throughout the book, Shashi was trying to make bit one point: he embraces patriotism and civic nationalism, while rejecting ethno-nationalism. I truly enjoy his beautiful language, but at times I did feel this message was repeated too often, with some chapters feel redundant.
Many readers may be touched by Shashi’s strong attachment to his Indianness—so strong that he refused British citizenship and was willing to pay a high price to remain Indian. Yet I wonder if this speaks less to his passion and more to his privilege. While many ordinary Indians are eager (and understandably so) to move to more prosperous countries, Shashi decided to return to India. Not everyone has the privilege of choosing between such options. This reminds me of Aung San Suu Kyi: also British-educated, she too returned to her homeland to pursue politics. While Suu Kyi embraced ethno-nationalism and proved indifferent to much of Burmese Muslim's suffering, both she and Shashi shared a Western education and elite background. That gave them both the motivation—and perhaps the sense of duty—to “improve” their home countries. But I’m not sure how much ordinary people can relate to that.
Why do I say this? Born in a small town in China, I do feel attached to my neighbours and friends who live in the same area. But I don’t feel the same connection to Chinese living far from my province. The only reason we all identify as “Chinese” today is not by shared landscape or historical glory as what Shashi claims (these can be invented or manipulated by whoever rules the country), but because we happen to be governed by the same centralised political system. For an elite like Shashi, the perspective is different: with a much stronger motivation to govern India as a nation, civic nationalism becomes a useful justification.
What Shashi embraces—civic nationalism, socialism, minority rights, and climate action—will be very familiar to left wingers living in a Western democracy, not least Australia. But how much this resonates in India is questionable. One can easily agree that Modi’s narrow-minded nationalism is dangerous and can lead to disaster, but I’m not convinced Shashi’s strategies will work either. They sound too idealistic, too polished in theory, to translate into reality—especially in a country as rural, diverse, and in need of economic development and female empowerment as India.
December 22, 2024
A beautifully written book. It introduced the subject of patriotism and nationalism through a thorough review of other examples in the west. He then led me into the complicated world of India, a country with 23 official languages snd 35 languages spoken by more than one million people. Not to speak of the thousands of dialects. When you consider this diversity you think the EU should be a piece of cake to run.
The Indian “democratic experiment” has been truly remarkable and Mr. Tharoor explains well, albeit from an opposition standpoint, how this government is seeking to bring the country. The question we should ask ourselves not only about India, but in other western countries, why the narrative of hate and division are so accepted and rewarded in the polls. Moderation may be on the losing end for a while to come both in India and elsewhere.
The Indian “democratic experiment” has been truly remarkable and Mr. Tharoor explains well, albeit from an opposition standpoint, how this government is seeking to bring the country. The question we should ask ourselves not only about India, but in other western countries, why the narrative of hate and division are so accepted and rewarded in the polls. Moderation may be on the losing end for a while to come both in India and elsewhere.
July 21, 2024
I wanted to read a book on India that served two functions - first, that it explain the historical circumstances that led to the country’s Independence - and second, illustrates the current issues animating Indian politics today.
Tharoor’s book does this, and then some. He uses his erudite command of the written word to propagate what he terms “civic nationalism” as the premier political program for India, and presumably the rest of the world. The author’s own biography is as interesting as the subject matter of this book - he is a former diplomat of the United Nations and is currently a Member of Parliament from the Congress party.
Regardless of what one thinks of his politics, there is no denying his chops as a historian and a policy wonk. An excellent read.
Tharoor’s book does this, and then some. He uses his erudite command of the written word to propagate what he terms “civic nationalism” as the premier political program for India, and presumably the rest of the world. The author’s own biography is as interesting as the subject matter of this book - he is a former diplomat of the United Nations and is currently a Member of Parliament from the Congress party.
Regardless of what one thinks of his politics, there is no denying his chops as a historian and a policy wonk. An excellent read.
May 4, 2024
I read this as part of my project to understand more about India on a recent visit. I'd quite enjoyed Tharoor's Inglorious Empire (as who doesn't enjoy kicking the Mother Country) but enjoyed this much less - it reads more as a polemic, and knowing the context of Tharoor as a politician in opposition to Modi is essential. Still, I learned a lot and its refreshing to read some viewpoints that are not fawning over Modi and his populist nationalism.
August 30, 2025
Tharoor raises some very valid points, albeit in a very academic and long winded manner. I do take some issue with his reading of history in which Gandhi is a near-infallible secular saint and Jinnah is ‘at best a hypocrite’, in that I think this largely ignores the context around the partition of Burma, or even the taking of the name Mahatma.
Overall I think you cover the main thrust of the book within the first 20-30%, and the rest is additional colour.
Overall I think you cover the main thrust of the book within the first 20-30%, and the rest is additional colour.
December 10, 2025
A Well Written.... indeed Scholarly Work of Shashi Tharoor...
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