In a post-9/11 world, where the secular space shrinks
every day (ask Brit-Asian males in London), the very definition of
secularism needs to be constantly refreshed and contemporised. As
Amartya Sen writes in The Argumentative Indian, "Indeed, there
are two principal approaches to secularism, focusing respectively on (1)
neutrality between different religions, and (2) prohibition
of religious associations in state activities. Indian secularism has
tended to emphasise neutrality in particular, rather than prohibition in
general". Therefore "the secular demand that the state be ‘equidistant’
from different religions…" Mr Sen goes on to indicate the advantages of
the neutrality aspect of secularism rather than the prohibition of all
religious associations. I could not agree more. The former
interpretation has an inclusive, humanist exposition of the issue rather
than the absolutist, ‘take-no-prisoners’ position of the latter. The
point of examination in this piece is not whether India’s implementation
of its secular ideals has reflected this neutrality. The answer to that
question is painful in its unambiguity.
Successive governments have failed spectacularly.
Whether it is Shah Bano, Babri Masjid or the state-sponsored pogrom in
Gujarat, at crucial, defining moments of the secular character of this
nation, we have made choices more suited to an intolerant, biased,
opportunistic state. And while these outrages must propel, must compel
us to fight the hypocrisy of our political masters, equally I find my
attention of late being drawn to a gentler though deeply insidious form
of bigotry in our polity. I refer to the daily, almost unconscious use
of Hindu religious symbolism and practices in forums where religion
should have no entry.
Consider the arti done on foreign dignitaries
when they visit the country. The lamp-lighting ceremony at
government-sponsored cultural festivals. Advertising films selling
motorcycles to the chant of Hindu scriptures. The breaking of a coconut
when a new film is started. Admirable symbols of tradition, piety,
sanctity, but clearly, religious symbols. More specifically, religious
symbols of one religion, the religion of the majority. I recollect
visiting a Bombay college owned and run by Hindus where I was greeted
with an arti ceremony. At the conclusion of the lecture I had
been invited to deliver, I asked the college principal what connection a
Hindu ceremony had with an address on gender equality. Bemused, she
replied that it was the Indian way of showing respect to a guest. Is it
the Indian way? Will I expect a similar welcome if I go to a college run
by Christian missionaries? More probably, will it be a Christian version
of the arti? What then, when I visit Aligarh Muslim University?
My growing concern is not with the use of ceremony to
mark an occasion. It is the use of religious symbolism. Occasionally
when I have raised the point I have had Hindus say I am making too much
of the issue. That these symbols have now taken on a pan-Indian
significance. That they capture the ceremony of a moment most
appropriately. That they are accepted and practised not as Hindu
traditions but as Indian traditions. A soothing, tempting position, but
not entirely correct. If I do not ever see a Muslim family conduct a
grihapravesh ceremony as they enter their new home (probably in a
Muslim neighbourhood they have been ghettoised into, in places like
Narendra Modi’s Gujarat), why then does a paint commercial use this
ceremony in their latest television advertisement? This is where it all
gets worrying. Looked at any which way, consciously or otherwise, a
Hindu-dominated advertising agency is selling the idea to a
Hindu-dominated paint company that is selling a product to a
Hindu-dominated country. As one-fifth of your market with their belief
in other religious persuasions, notwithstanding atheists and agnostics,
watches – helpless, unmoved or even resentful.
If indeed this country professes to practice a
secularism that is founded on the theory of neutrality or equal distance
from all religions, then surely it should follow that either we remove
the use of Hindu traditions to mark non-religious gatherings or ensure
all religions find equal expression in all forums. The latter option
will result in a political correctness that promises chaos, not all of
it without humour. Bewildered dignitaries will find themselves accorded
the traditional Zoroastrian greeting at one five-star hotel and a
Buddhist welcome at another. Government functions will automatically
expand by a couple of hours as they start with a reading from religious
scriptures of all different faiths. The latest advertising commercial
will feature a Sikh couple racing to bless their new car through an
Ardas at their neighbourhood gurdwara.
Clearly the case for removing religion from the
non-religious sphere is a strong one. Any step to erase feelings of
alienation that Indians who are not Hindus might feel both within and
without this country is a step towards peace, not to mention prosperity.
Why cannot children tell us about their dreams for India at the
inauguration of a cultural festival? Why cannot dignitaries be invited
to have tea with their designated hospitality staff as a welcome
gesture? Why cannot we see a TV spot about a couple marking their 25th
anniversary, not by a recreation of their Hindu wedding, but by donating
to their favourite charity? Underlying all of this will be the quiet
belief that religion has no place in the public sphere. It will require
the correct interpretation and implementation of our Constitution to
firmly steer the nation away from this sense of divisiveness so
deep-seated that questions that should be asked lie unspoken. But make
no mistake about this. One hundred and fifty million Indians watch in
resignation every day as a car maker uses Karva Chauth to sell its
latest luxury model. Whether this incredibly regressive ritual should be
used at all is matter for another article altogether.
(Rahul Bose is a well known actor. Write to him at
[email protected].)
