Christmas celebrations in India this year witnessed deliberate attempts to disrupt events by various affiliates of the Sangh Parivar, with little visible intervention by the police or civil administration. The Prime Minister, Narendra Modi, attended a Christmas Mass at the historic cathedral in New Delhi, yet neither he nor his colleagues offered a single word of condemnation of the violence and intimidation reported from several parts of the country. When such incidents draw wider attention, the response is often predictable: raise the issue of “mass conversion” or publicly distance the government from the organisations involved.
The violent hatred being promoted in India against racial, linguistic, and religious minorities is a matter of grave concern. Television debates and social media feeds are full of outrage over developments outside India—which is understandable—but it is striking that many who express anguish over the mob burning of Deepu Chandra Das in Bangladesh are often the same people who justify killings or even celebrate mob lynchings within India.
A similar contradiction was visible in the response to the dismantling of a statue of Lord Vishnu by the Thai military during recent clashes between Thailand and Cambodia. Suddenly, India’s Ministry of External Affairs issued a statement expressing “hurt sentiments” over the “desecration” of the statue. The reality is that this incident occurred in the context of a territorial conflict between two countries. Both Thailand and Cambodia are Buddhist-majority nations, and Hinduism has deeply influenced the history and culture of Southeast Asia. While war between nations is undesirable, it is intellectually dishonest to portray this episode as a deliberate attack on Hinduism.
This raises a larger question: does India today enjoy the moral high ground to speak about communal harmony and the protection of minorities when the world is watching what unfolded across the country on Christmas Day? These incidents cannot be dismissed as isolated. After a mob lynching in Kerala, another was reported from Sambalpur in Odisha.
Another deeply disturbing case emerged from Dehradun, Uttarakhand, where a young MBA student from Tripura, Angel Chakma, was murdered by four youths after being subjected to vicious abuse and racial slurs—mocked as “Nepali,” “Chinese,” “chinky,” and “momos.” That this occurred in Uttarakhand is particularly painful. As a Pahadi myself, I have faced similar prejudice elsewhere. Uttarakhand shares deep cultural similarities with the northeastern states, and indeed, all Himalayan states have common cultural traits. Yet racial prejudice and caste pride are increasingly visible even here. Over the past decade, instead of encouraging introspection, young minds have been fed hatred, communal polarisation, false pride, and contempt for others. These sentiments are now erupting in public violence.
The hypocrisy is stark. Protests against the killing of minorities in Bangladesh were organised in various parts of India, including Uttarakhand, often by the very groups that intimidate minorities in their own states. One cannot demand minority protection abroad while denying minorities their rights at home. Youth cannot be absolved of responsibility, but neither can the political ecosystem that trains them through WhatsApp toolkits, rewarding intimidation with political patronage from the upper echelons of the Hindutva camp.
New revelations have also emerged in the Ankita Bhandari case in Uttarakhand. Her mother continues a lonely fight for justice. Yet many who speak loudly about minority rights in Bangladesh have remained conspicuously silent on Ankita Bhandari. This selective outrage exposes a troubling moral vacuum.
Our political class and media celebrate Diwali at the White House and 10 Downing Street, yet resist decorating Rashtrapati Bhavan or Raj Bhavans for minority festivals. Across the world, festivals are embraced as shared heritage. In India, however, Hindutva politics appears trapped in perpetual hostility toward minorities. This erosion of inclusiveness inevitably affects India’s foreign policy standing. India once stood as a global exemplar of multiculturalism, where faiths coexisted and strengthened nationhood together.
It is also disturbing to see sections of ISKCON participating in protests outside churches and Christmas celebrations. ISKCON is a global organisation enjoying religious freedom and goodwill in liberal democracies such as Washington, London, New York, and Paris. Its followers deliberately performing kirtan outside Christmas venues in India is shameful. ISKCON must clarify whether it endorses such conduct. This is not religious freedom; it is harassment, and it reflects poorly on a body with an international presence.
While individual prejudices may persist, 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 an “internal issue.” If that logic were applied consistently, India would have no standing to comment on human rights anywhere in the world. It was incumbent upon the Prime Minister and chief ministers to speak clearly, condemn these incidents unconditionally, and ensure swift action against the perpetrators. Unfortunately, this has not happened. The ruling party still behaves less like a party of governance and more like a perpetual agitator, unwilling to practise Rajdharma or seek reconciliation.
It is time for serious introspection. 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 of peace and non-violence after years of nurturing politics rooted in division? Can the top leadership finally act against organised violence targeting minorities, or will silence continue to be their loudest statement?
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*Human rights defender
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