Part 2: The Left’s Bias Against Hindutva

Left-leaning academics, particularly in Western and Indian secular institutions, frequently criticize Hindutva as a monolithic, aggressive ideology that marginalizes non-Hindus, especially Muslims and Christians. This critique, often rooted in postcolonial, Marxist, or secular universalist frameworks, reveals a native bias within academia—a predisposition to view Hinduism skeptically while excusing similar tendencies in other traditions. Several factors drive this bias, unfairly targeting Hindutva while ignoring its parallels with other nationalisms.

First, the academic left champions secularism and universal human rights, viewing culture-based nationalisms like Hindutva as regressive. This secular lens, a Western construct, often misunderstands Hinduism’s pluralistic nature, which Vivekananda celebrated as embracing all faiths. Hindutva, while culturally assertive, shares this pluralism by including Jains, Buddhists, and Sikhs, yet critics rarely acknowledge this inclusivity, focusing instead on its Hindu-centricity. For example, scholars like Romila Thapar or Christophe Jaffrelot often frame Hindutva as communal, sidelining its cultural rather than theological foundation.

Second, critics misrepresent Hindutva’s historical context. India faced centuries of cultural erosion under Islamic invasions and British colonialism, which promoted conversions and marginalized Hindu traditions. Hindutva’s cultural revivalism responds to these pressures, much like German nationalism resisted Napoleonic domination. 

Yet, the believer/non-believer dichotomy in Islam (Dar al-Islam vs. Dar al-Harb) and Christianity (historically, “heathens” vs. believers), which justified conquest and conversion, is rarely scrutinized with equal intensity. For instance, missionary activities during British rule aimed to “civilize” Hindus, yet this exclusivity is downplayed compared to Hindutva’s defensive cultural assertion. This double standard reveals a bias that condemns Hindu nationalism while excusing Abrahamic universalism.

Third, selective outrage plagues the critique. Western ethnic nationalisms, like Germany’s, excluded minorities (e.g., Jews) but are studied as historical phenomena, not demonized. Civic nationalism’s assimilationist pressures, such as France’s hijab bans, marginalize religious minorities but are framed as progressive. Hindutva’s cultural prioritization, while sometimes rhetorically sharp, mirrors these dynamics yet faces harsher scrutiny. 

For example, policies like the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) are labeled anti-Muslim, though they aim to protect persecuted Indic minorities, a nuance often ignored.

This bias is ideological, not just academic. The left’s alignment with globalist or cosmopolitan ideals views nationalism, especially religious nationalism, as a barrier to progress. Hindutva’s unapologetic Hindu identity challenges this worldview, making it a convenient target. In contrast, Vivekananda’s nationalism escapes similar criticism due to its apolitical, universalist tone, though it shares Hindutva’s goal of cultural revival. Hazony’s defense of nationalism as a moral framework for self-determination aligns with Hindutva’s resistance to globalist homogenization, yet he faces less academic hostility, perhaps because his framework lacks the religious specificity that triggers secular bias against Hinduism.