What I Learned on India’s Ram Temple Democracy

The state is us and we are the state

The doctor looked ill-at-ease while making a jestful comment on Prime Minister Modi. I went to see him, suspecting a viral fever.

“If young fellows like you fall ill, what will happen to the nation? Look at our PM; at 73, he is surviving on coconut water and is sleeping on the floor, and you catch fever from drinking cold water after a game of squash.”

I’m not Modi, and I don’t idolize a politician for his religious quotient, I replied.

He was caught off-guard. The doctor was done listening to adulatory talks on Modi. And passed off back-handed compliments to elicit a response from visiting patients. That’s his way of talking about what he called “cultural corruption,” which is spoiling three generations.

What is this hysteria about the Ram Temple? He remarked avidly. He understood that I’m not a Modi-devotee.

State and religion shall never go together. The state has no role whatsoever in temple consecration. It’s a momentous occasion for all Hindus worldwide—a 500-year-old dream is coming true—but what is the role of an elected head of state to do with it?

People counter that he is also a practicing Hindu, so what’s wrong with professing one’s faith?

There’s nothing wrong, technically. The spirit of consecration in an unfinished temple is inconsistent with the prescription of Hindu scriptures. To not wait till the auspicious day of Ramnavami, the day when Ram was born, has electoral underpinnings. The elections are written boldly over the event.

The model code of conduct before general elections will come into play, and in April (on the occasion of Ramnavami), it can’t be done with so much political agenda on display.

The Making of a Legend

India, as a cultural consciousness, doesn’t differentiate between religion and politics. All our religious figureheads were scions, princes, or kings. Krishna, the incarnation of Lord Vishnu, was a king.

The Buddha and Mahavira, the founders of Buddhism and Jainism, were wealthy princes before they renounced wealth and possession and became monks.

Ram, the avatar of Lord Vishnu, was a prince who later became king.

This phenomenon has decidedly Hindu leanings. Christ was born to a poor shepherd mother; the Prophet was a commoner. We want to see our king as all-in-all, the one with divine bestowings—a blessed redeemer with no human failings.

This persona has been carefully crafted over the years. In 2014, larger-than-life imagery was shown to people: he brought a baby crocodile to his home, and he teaches math and physics to engineering aspirants. Each story has one and only object: to project him as a people’s man, a Rambo, and a great messiah.

People ask, What’s wrong with that? When you start seeing a political leader as a divine being, you can’t ask critical questions. That’s the problem.

You then lose the capacity to judge based on delivery; you change goalposts to suit the hero ending. And that’s happening in India.

When demonetization failed to achieve it’s defined objectives, all sorts of digital India stories were successfully sold by the media; when COVID mismanagement brought the nation to its knees, people were blamed for not observing the protocols; when the state bungled up in the border conflict with China, we blamed Nehru and his concessions to China.

Anything good that happens becomes a feather in Modi’s crown—the bad is conveniently assigned to either the past mistakes of previous governments or some sort of local issue.

Say, for instance, that when petrol prices go down, he gets the credit, but when they shoot up, global factors and price deregulation become the cause. Some party intellectuals go overtime in convincing people that their contibution, by way of taxes, is shaping the nation’s destiny.

Malidives in Local Park

Three middle-aged people had come for a morning walk. They took a break, and a fellow was telling the other two what went wrong with our relationship with the Maldives.

He said Modi went to Maldip, and there he was abused by some ministers. He came back, and now India has decided to punish Maldip. And because they insulted our PM, the travel booking has crashed. The other guy said, If it has crashed, then buy it.

Then the reciter clarified that it’s not a stock. It’s an island country.

They didn’t understand the series of events, the international standoff, the China angle, or Maldives internal politics. What they understood was that someone challenged Modi ji, and we gave those bastards back their due.

People can’t analyse politics; they don’t have the bandwidth to study details. The clean takeaway usually is with our PM at the centerstage.

What’s wrong with this?

The doctor asked, Why are educated people falling into these marketing traps? I told him that there is a difference between educated and intellectual.

Being educated has little to nothing to do with seeing objective reality. An educated person has individual resistance; when you try to convince him of something, his knowledge will come in the way. He is, however, easily hypnotized with the mass — when he sees thousands of other believers, he gives in.

Therefore, the job of the state is cut short: do continuous propaganda, create hero imagery, and gradually people will start believing. And once a critical mass of believers has been attained, others will follow too.

His followers claim that if he is an astute politician and can sway the masses, then what’s wrong with that? And above all, he’s doing good work.

I ask one simple question: Tell me one thing that he did wrong in 10 years. And people fumble with answers.

The problem lies in our seeing—we see a person or a situation with a label—all good or all bad. We can’t see critically.

When politics get into religion or vice versa, people get fooled. That’s what happened in medieval Europe: church and state were inseparable, and all sorts of scientific inquiry were deeply throttled. You were allowed to say only what suits the narrative of the state.

In today’s India, the Central Bureau of Investigation, the Enforcement Directorate, and the Election Commission all play to the tune of the state. A politician can be harassed until he joins the BJP; once he comes to their fold, he gets a clean chit.

Several religious and other political leaders declined the invitation to the ceremony. One of the cult leaders said that if a married man is sitting in a consecration ritual, he should be accompanied by his wife. He was badly trolled and called anti-Modi, anti-Hindu, and a congressman.

He replied, If you have to counter me, cite scripture as I’m referring to. Throwing expletives at me is an admission of guilt.

A grand occasion for Hinduism has become a party’s agenda programme. The fallout of it is that another national-level political party announced a grand-scale recitation of Sundarkand (a chapter in Ramyana) in Delhi. The level of political rhetoric is falling continuously.

The biggest issue during elections can become: who is the greatest devotee?