The Fruits of Victimhood

In 1993 my responses were driven by the trauma of observing closely, at the street level and in the villages of Rajasthan, the spread of hatred and cold-blooded murder of Muslims being legitimized as a form of justice for Hindus. For me it was, at that juncture, a Hindu-Muslim issue as well as a contest between ‘secularism’ and varied notions of a ‘Hindu rashtra’.

Seshadri’s focus was on a deeper and more fundamental concern. He knew that once a politics of hatred, anchored in victimhood, takes root it will not limit itself to Hindu-Muslim lines. Once toxic means have been justified, they will poison even the most worthy end-goal. This path, these methods, lead unfailingly to a living hell.

Twenty-eight years later, Seshadri’s understanding and his assessment stand fully validated. Today across caste and religion lines an assortment of identity-based groupings have emerged which appear to be ready and willing to do battle to either avenge their feelings of victimhood or assert domination over ‘others’.  Following mass violence in Delhi in February 2020, it was social activists who were protesting against the controversial Citizenship Amendment Act who were arrested while those who had openly, on camera, given calls for violence roamed free. In particular, it is now widely perceived that the State machinery will mostly look the other way when Muslims are randomly attacked, often fatally. (https://indianexpress.com/article/opinion/columns/hindutva-mob-impunity-muslim-houses-attacked-7200038)  

Nevertheless, before proceeding further it is important to empathically explore the reasoning of those who supported the demolition in 1992. There were many who saw the entire Ramjanmabhoomi campaign and the demolition as a necessary cathartic event. Some of these people sincerely believed that this political mobilization would act as a balm to allay the historical burden of hurt Hindu pride. I have vivid memories of conversations with political activists who insisted that they could find cathartic release in the demolition and yet not be advocates of a politics of revenge and retribution.

Let us, for a moment, consider the claim that there is a constructive, non-hate based, version of the Hindutva project and it is being tarnished by bullies within the fold. After all, this is a problem that afflicts many large movements. Many worthy causes have famously deteriorated into systemic cruelty. For instance, the lofty dream of workers of the world uniting to break their chains degenerated into the violence of Stalin’s Gulags and Mao’s Cultural Revolution.

Similarly, today there is mounting evidence of verbally and physically vicious attacks against all those who question or oppose the Hindutva project which motivated the demolition. Those who identify with either the term ‘Hindutva’ or are driven by feelings of victimhood and therefore assertion – can no longer dismiss the escalating violence as the work of some lunatic fringe.

If the demolition in Ayodhya was indeed a cathartic experience, why are we now faced with ‘love jihad’ legislation in many states, along with street-level vigilantism, which targets mixed-faith couples? Why is there construction and/or land allocation for CAA-NPR (National Population Register) related detention camps? Why are sections of mass-media, vigilante citizen groups and government equating any dissent as being anti-Hindu and anti-national?

The crux of that painful exchange between Seshadri and Dharampal, back in 1993, was this: Seshadri saw the demolition as a moment for triggering conscience, Dharampal saw it as a necessary balm to the accumulated pain of victimhood.

There was a bitter and tragic irony in this. Dharampal’s life work enabled many of us to know our own society’s pre-colonial roots and strengths in nuanced detail. Yet on the ground and in the real life of the present, Dharampal seemed unable to see that what his position on Ayodhya did was to endanger ‘sabhya samaj’, a civil and open society.

This is why Dharampal’s stand on Ayodhya was morally and politically wrong. As a historical event, both the demolition and Dharampal’s position on it, could possibly be set aside. But the psychological pain of victimhood, which probably drove Dharampal, is a living breathing beast amongst us still.

How can those afflicted by this sense of victimhood over-come it? This is the urgent and crucial question of our times. Bitter feuding over Hindutva vs. secular, or Right vs. Left serves almost as a decoy or a distraction – preventing us from addressing this urgent task.
Let us first empathically acknowledge the material basis for the feelings of victimhood.