Abstract

To put it differently, the world-views of the emerging native elite who inherited power from the erstwhile colonial masters had been largely shaped by the post-French and post-Industrial revolution histories of the Western world. Even when they disagreed among themselves, they tended to borrow their conceptual repertoire from the prevailing intellectual trends in post-Enlightenment Europe and the larger Western world in the 19th and the early 20th century. Even the so-called “traditionalist thinkers” tended to borrow much of their vocabulary from the West and often also addressed the Western audience while articulating the greatness of their past cultures. The political ideas and ideologies emanating from the Western modernity had come to be hegemonic during that period, and in many ways, they continue to be so even today.
An obvious evidence and implication of this is the fact that after their Independence, most of the “new” nation-states of the Global South modelled their political systems along the formats of modern nation-states of Western Europe or the United States of America. Even those who had been openly opposed to the Western style democracies, founded on capitalist economic systems, tended to generally work out a system that formally claimed to be ‘democratic’ and/or ‘republican’, often hyphenating it with terms like ‘Islamic’ or ‘socialist’. They presented themselves to the rest of the world as having become ‘constitutional democracies’. In other words, even those who did not choose western style democracy in their practices of statecraft, pretended to do so in some form or the other, in the format they chose for their political formations.
There were also other reasons for this to happen. By the middle of the 20th century expanding capitalist markets had fundamentally altered the global conditions. Being a nation-state in the post Second World War period implied and required becoming a member of the global community of nation-states. Every new country had to seek recognition from others, the existing nation-states. They also needed to be accepted by the newly established global institution, the United Nations, and become its member. Joining the United Nations implies formally agreeing to its charters, a set of norms and practices that every country was required to adhere to. This too essentially required committing to some form of democracy and governance practices in accordance with the emerging global norms of organizing political and juridical systems.
Thus, the nation-states had to all be modern political formations, even if not de facto, certainly de jure. They also had to, in some form or the other, accept a kind of double accountability. By becoming members of the United Nations, they conceded to the idea of accountability to the global community of nation-states; and by claiming to be some form of constitutional democracies, they also had to be accountable to their citizens. This system of ‘double-accountability’, thus implied that the regions that gained independence from colonial rule during the post-Second World War period had to visualize themselves very differently from what they were before their colonization.
While adhering to modern normatives of organizing political life as nation-states, many also chose to be “secular” countries. Even though the text-book definition of secularism presents it simply as a political system where affairs of religion are kept at a distance from the state political processes, the idea has been variously understood and practiced across different countries, even within the Western world. Formally speaking, constitutional democracies are founded on the idea of citizenship, which is legally granted to every person belonging to the land as an individual right. However, in practice, very few have been able to do so. Ascription based community identities have remained important and assertive, demanding recognition of their cultural distinctiveness by the political system, including demanding “communal” representation, or even institutionalising a multicultural citizenship.
The modern-day nation-states, therefore, are not simply political systems or organizations. They are also sociological realities and evolving processes. Their actual practices of statecraft are shaped by their specific histories and a sociology of community identities, including those of religious affiliations. These realities do not simply reflect their distinctive nature or character as political formations but also become sources of everyday contests and conflicts around questions of rights, representations and citizenship. Even though they tend to invoke the idea of “tradition” and to hark back to some notion of pre-colonial pasts, they use modern methods of mobilization and, in many cases, were born during the colonial period, precisely as a response to the demands of colonial modernity.
Thus, a sociological engagement with questions such as the dynamics of ‘religion and politics’ ought to begin with framing the questions empirically by locating the specifics in their larger historical context. Such an approach would enable us to avoid over-generalizations and normative judgements. It would also help us explore sociologically imaginative answers, which are context sensitive and politically open.
Perhaps a good starting point for a sociology of religion and politics in South Asia could be the classical sociological writing on religion, which all approached and explored religion as a normal social process. Even though they personally distanced themselves from the position of a believer, they did not dismiss religious sentiment simply as a manifestation of ignorance or immaturity, counterposing it to the idea of reason. A sociological approach to the subject would thus demand extensive, imaginative and critical engagements with a diversity of social, political and historical contexts.
The specific nature of social formations in the region is informed by the diversity of religions and ethnicities together with significant continuities of culture or ways of lives. Both the spiritual and the temporal find accommodation in the political praxis with varied forms, intentions and outcomes. South Asia is also in the throes of massive social transformations. Processes such as economic and cultural globalization or the aggressive pursuance of neo-liberal economic adjustments have unleashed a range of new anxieties and aspirations. The post-1990s middle class significantly departs from the values cherished and propagated by the earlier leadership. There is a resounding approval for aggressive nationalism and triumphalist doctrines that rest on ‘otherising’ sections of the citizenry and restructuring institutions and inter-group relationships. Buddhist-Sinhala nationalism in Sri Lanka, Hindutva in India or political Islam in Pakistan and Bangladesh, relatively dormant in the past, have come to capture the imaginations of large sections of their populations. While a sociological understanding of the rise, successes and sources of their legitimacy is indeed a pertinent challenge for the profession, we also need to explore microprocesses, the everyday politics of religious identities and the lived realities of religions as faith communities.
The following paper by Aseem Prakash provides an account of religion and politics in a micro context of a small town of northern India, Kanauj, with focus on the economies of ittar (organic perfume). Prakash prefers to describe his account of the ittar business as ‘social history’ and looks at the interconnections across the realms of society, economy and politics. As he argues, ittar production and trade not only provides sustenance and income to significant numbers of Kannauj’s population, but has also come to be source of ‘the social identity of the town as individuals and families residing in the town connect through various activities associated with the ittar trade, and most conversation in everyday social interaction is around ittar’. He finds that the economic activities of the town related to the business in ittar are deeply embedded in the local social structures and processes’. The economic activities associated with ittar and associated products connect families from diverse socio-economic locations through social networks. The overall dominance of ittar business in the local economy and its all-pervasive embeddedness in society significantly impacts local politics of the town, which in turn also has a bearing on the local economy and relational processes. The links of local politics with the economy and vice-a-versa are thus mediated through social networks in the Kannauj town.
The third paper by O.B. Roopesh explores the politics of Hindu nationalism in the South Indian state of Kerala with a focus on the activities of organizations affiliated to the Sangh Parivar, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) and allied organizations. Kerala is popularly known for secular and left politics. It is one of the regions of India where the right-wing Bharatiya Janata Party has hardly ever been electorally significant. Roopesh’s paper qualifies such a popular notion of the Sangh and highlights how they are working towards spreading the culture of Hindu rituals and temple management. Though their activities are focussed on spreading a Brahmanical Hindu culture, they are also willing to adapt to the local Hindu religious traditions and take into their fold the temple culture of caste groups that have traditionally been allowed access to such spaces by the temple establishment. His study particularly highlights how those from non-Brahmin castes are being trained to be priests. The Sangh Parivar has also been introducing new cultures of collective singing and congregational rituals.
While Hindutva politics has steadily gained ascendancy in “secular” India and is slowly spreading its activities even in the regions of Kerala where their electoral presence has been minimal, the Islamic state of Pakistan has interestingly had a very different trajectory. Despite an extensive use of Islam by the Pakistani state for its political legitimacy, the political parties that manifestly identify themselves as protectors of Islam have never had any electoral success. Even their combined vote share remains within a single digit. With his focus on the religious idiom in the regional politics of Punjab province, Hassan Javid provides two reasons for the “paradoxical” nature of Pakistani politics. First, the politics in the country remains woven around a patronage based electoral system, which is dominated by traditional propertied-elite organized through kinship-based networks. The second reason he identifies for this is ‘the co-optation of the religious idiom of politics by mainstream parties and the state’. However, this may be changing. With his focus on the Punjab province and a recent entrant in the electoral domain, the Tehreek-i-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP), Javid shows how TLP seemed to be gaining ground through its increasing activities in non-electoral spheres of politics.
Beyond the domain of formal politics and its interplay, how do we comprehend the politics of a social formation that is avowedly apolitical? M.H Ilias, in his essay, tries to make sense of the ideas surrounding politics among the neo-Salafi Islamic reformers who theoretically retreat themselves to the social and the religious spheres. Among the points of contention for the neo-Salafis with Kerala’s old Salafi reformism was the latter’s intrusions into the domain of politics. Through a historical analysis Ilias traces the ever-changing terrain of politics among the Salafis of Kerala. Irrespective of its representations as a rigid, theology-centred religious current, Salafism in Kerala (and elsewhere) was amenable to locally contingent adjustments and innovations in thought. Relying on ijtihad or context bound interpretations, the Salafis, under the influence of national movement, were able to harmonise pan-Islamism with Indian nationalism. Post-independence, the movement sought adjustments with secularism allowing its adherents to become members of secular, including communist, political formations. Neo-Salafism, product of Kerala’s growing connections with the Arab world, advocated eschewing politics and negation of secularism in contrast. This has resulted in circulation of suspicions surrounding its ideological orientations. The essay, based on interviews with neo-Salafist activists, deconstructs the binaries of secular-reformists versus literal-revivalists or political versus apolitical to understand multiple ways in which neo-Salafis engage with secular politics.
The question of citizenship, apparently simple when reduced to its juridico-legal definitions, is intensely intricate owing to the bearings of caste, religion and nationality. The latter unravels in the process of claiming citizenship status and making a quest for the promised entitlements--what Mohita Bhatia refers to as ‘performative citizenship’. Through a protracted fieldwork in Rajasthan’s Barmer district, the essay documents the politics and agency of the Hindu refugees from Pakistan in the process of shedding their Pakistani identity and citizenship and acquiring an Indian one. Unlike scholarships on refugees that project them as vulnerable victims, the essay demonstrates how the refugees act as social and political agents who enter into negotiation with officials, build contacts, engage with the host communities and enter into civil society activism to air their grievances and facilitate the process for others. Bhatia reminds that this agency of the refugees is ‘dualistic’ as it has both empowering as much as chauvinistic sides. Apart from making political claims, they also actively feed into the Hindu nationalist discourse presenting India as a natural homeland of the Hindus while portraying Pakistan as a land of their persecution. But despite expectations of a grand Hindu homogeneity, this mirage is shattered when confronted with the realities of a society segmented on grounds of caste and class.
Tanweer Fazal digs into history to examine the contention and coalescence that marks the relationship between Sikh political consciousness and the rising tide of the Hindu Right in India. The essay traces the trajectory of community formation through the imaginaries of panth (religious community), qaum (nation) and Punjabiyat (region)—in the Sikh political narrative. The object of enquiry is the Shiromani Akali Dal, which since its inception in the 1920’s, is the chief protagonist of a Sikh exclusive theo-politics. Each of these formulations of community formation—panth, qaum and punjabiyat—draw their meanings and implications from the social and political context in which they emerged. At the same time, it would be erroneous to assume that they tread a linear trajectory. There is rather a simultaneity where each of these ideas co-exist, but subject to contextual application. At the same time, they are both internally and externally contested. Beyond the binary of ‘self’ versus ‘other’, Fazal argues for a triadic framework in which the ‘nation-state’ figures as a key entity in the formation of competing communal identities. Thus, Sikh vacillation between being a minority/community and being a nation is contingent upon how the ‘nation-state’ styles itself, as accommodative or hegemonic. The evident uneasiness of Sikh political consciousness with that of Hindutva too is a pointer towards aggressive nationalism and centralization that the latter is given to pursue, the essay deducts.
Together, the papers presented in the volume provide us an understanding of the diverse trajectories of relationship that religion has had with politics in the South Asian region. Their diversity is not merely nation-state specific but also varies depending upon the focus and perspective. A micro-view may provide a different perspective on the subject compared to a macro mapping of electoral politics or inter-religious conflicts. The nature of religion-politics relationship has also been changing over time across nation-states in the region. Most importantly perhaps, even these limited number of case studies caution us against any straitjacketed, premeditated or linear approach to the study of the association between religion and politics.
