Christmas celebrations across India witnessed deliberate attempts to disrupt events by various affiliates of the Sangh Parivar, with little to no visible intervention from the police or the administration. Ironically, Prime Minister Narendra Modi attended a Christmas mass at a historic cathedral in New Delhi, yet neither he nor his colleagues offered a single word of condemnation for the attacks and intimidation faced by Christians elsewhere in the country. As has become routine, once such issues gain wider attention, the response oscillates between raising the bogey of “mass conversion” or conveniently dissociating from the very organisations responsible for the disruptions.
The violent hatred being promoted in India against racial, linguistic, and religious minorities is a matter of grave concern. Indian news channels, along with many vocal social media users, speak loudly about incidents outside the country—often rightly so. However, it is deeply troubling that many who express outrage over the mob burning of Deepu Chandra Das in Bangladesh are the same people who justify killings or even celebrate mob lynchings within India.
A similar hypocrisy was evident in the reaction to the dismantling of a statue of Lord Vishnu by the Thai military during recent clashes between Thailand and Cambodia. Suddenly, India’s foreign ministry woke up to issue a statement expressing “hurt sentiments” over the alleged desecration. What was overlooked is that this incident occurred in the context of an armed conflict between two countries disputing territory. Both Thailand and Cambodia are Buddhist-majority nations, and Hinduism has deeply influenced the history and culture of Southeast Asia. While war between the two nations is undesirable, it is disingenuous to frame this incident as a deliberate attack on Hinduism.
Selective Outrage and the Collapse of Moral Authority
This raises a fundamental question: does India today hold the moral high ground to speak about communal harmony and the protection of minorities, when the world has witnessed what unfolded across the country on Christmas Day? Such incidents cannot be dismissed as isolated. Following mob lynching in Kerala, another such incident has emerged from Sambalpur in Odisha.
Another deeply disturbing case comes from Dehradun, Uttarakhand, where a young MBA student from Tripura, Angel Chakma, was murdered by four youths who allegedly harassed him with repeated abuses and racial slurs—mocking him as Nepali, Chinese, “chinky,” or “momos.” That this happened in Uttarakhand is particularly painful. As a Pahadi myself, I have faced similar prejudices elsewhere. There is a strong cultural similarity between Uttarakhand and the northeastern states—shared attitudes, practices, and values. In fact, all Himalayan states share common cultural traits. Yet racial prejudice and caste pride are increasingly visible in Uttarakhand.
Violence at Home, Silence from Power
The deeper problem is that over the last decade, instead of introspection and social reform, a large section of youth has been fed hatred, communal polarisation, false pride, and contempt for others. These sentiments are now being openly vented in public spaces.
The hypocrisy becomes even starker when one recalls protests against the killing of minorities in Bangladesh held in several Indian states, including Uttarakhand—often led by the same groups that intimidate minorities within their own regions. They demand minority protection in Bangladesh but deny minorities their rights at home. The youth cannot be blamed entirely; they are acting according to a well-oiled WhatsApp-driven narrative, competing for political patronage from the top leadership of the Hindutva ecosystem.
New revelations have also emerged in the Ankita Bhandari case in Uttarakhand. Her mother continues to fight for justice, yet many who claim to champion minority rights in Bangladesh have remained conspicuously silent on Ankita’s case. They seem to have no time for it. This silence exposes the selective outrage and moral bankruptcy at play.
India’s political and media class celebrates Diwali at the White House and 10 Downing Street, but resists the idea of decorating Rashtrapati Bhavan or governor houses for minority festivals. Across the world, festivals are celebrated as part of a shared cultural heritage. Here, however, Hindutva politics thrives on perpetual hostility towards minorities. This mindset inevitably affects India’s foreign policy and global standing. India was once a shining example of multiculturalism, where different faiths coexisted and together strengthened the idea of nationhood.
It is also deeply troubling to see ISKCON groups participating in protests outside churches and Christmas celebrations. ISKCON is a global organisation that enjoys religious freedom and wide support in liberal democracies such as Washington, London, New York, and Paris. For its followers to deliberately perform kirtans outside Christmas venues in India is shameful. ISKCON must clarify whether it endorses such conduct. This is not religious freedom; it is deliberate provocation and unbecoming of a religious body that benefits from pluralism in the West.
Majoritarian Politics and the Failure of Rajdharma
While ordinary people may carry prejudices, what matters most is the role of the political executive, judiciary, media, and political parties. Violence against minorities and the marginalised cannot be brushed aside as “internal issues.” If that logic were applied consistently, India would have no right to comment on human rights violations anywhere in the world.
It would have made a meaningful difference had the Prime Minister, chief ministers, and senior leaders spoken out clearly, condemned these incidents unconditionally, and ensured strict action against the perpetrators. Unfortunately, that is unlikely. The ruling party has yet to learn how to behave like a party in power. Instead of upholding Rajdharma, it continues to function as a perpetual opposition, creating divisions rather than seeking reconciliation.
It is time for the government to reflect seriously. The Prime Minister and chief ministers must send an unequivocal message to their cadres that criminal violence will not be tolerated. The larger question, however, remains: do they possess the moral courage to speak for peace and non-violence when their political journey has so often been built in opposition to those very ideals? Can the top leadership finally speak out against organised violence targeting minorities and instruct officials to act decisively against those responsible?
