The year 2026 has not begun on an optimistic note, despite the customary celebrations that accompany the end of one year and the arrival of another. Across the world, people are grappling with the consequences of incompetent political leadership increasingly captured by large corporate interests. Democracy today often resembles a corporatocracy, where major decisions—what we consume, how we dress, what we value—are shaped by corporate power. Those who challenge this dominance are quickly branded anti-democratic or dismissed using whatever labels suit the moment.
Globally, geopolitical instability reflects this imbalance. Former US President Donald Trump has struck at the foundations of the transatlantic alliance embodied by NATO, yet European powers have failed to respond with strategic clarity. Instead of asserting independence, they continue to rely on anti-Russian rhetoric while simultaneously signing major trade agreements, such as the recent EU–India deal—moves that are bound to unsettle Washington. Europe’s long political legacy is now undermined by leadership choices shaped by Russophobia and over-dependence on the United States. With Trump at the helm earlier, European nations found themselves isolated after having antagonised Russia and surrendered strategic autonomy, leaving them more vulnerable than before.
The United States itself appears more isolated and unpopular than at any point in recent history. Trump may have been celebrated by some for his dramatic, “strongman” posture—including the controversial arrest of Venezuela’s President Nicolás Maduro in a surprise midnight operation—but such actions have largely backfired. Threats against Iran, a nation surrounded by US military bases in the Persian Gulf, have proven ineffective and dangerous. While Venezuela lies within America’s traditional sphere of influence, any escalation in West Asia or South Asia would have far-reaching and catastrophic consequences.
Against this backdrop of global uncertainty, India’s signing of a Free Trade Agreement with the European Union has been declared a major victory. However, unless one carefully examines the details, it is difficult to understand what the agreement truly offers Indian farmers and small-scale businesses. Corporate interests remain central, while concerns around livelihoods, labour rights, and sustainability remain vague. There was a time when global discourse focused on human rights, dignity, and the concerns of marginalised communities. Today, as powerful nations prioritise markets for their corporations, these issues have been pushed aside. Rights and wrongs are increasingly defined by corporate interests rather than ethical or humanitarian considerations.
Disturbingly, across societies it is often the most powerful and privileged groups that behave as though they are the most aggrieved. “Rights” are frequently invoked to mean the rights of the white population in the West, Europeans, or savarna communities in India. Whenever questions of social justice or equality are raised, these groups claim victimhood and discrimination.
In India, this pattern is visible in the protests by sections of the brahmanical elite over the UGC Draft Regulations 2026. Claims of “betrayal” ring hollow when one considers that the drafting committee itself was dominated by savarna members and chaired by Digvijaya Singh, a Rajput. The committee also included SC, ST, and OBC members. Students have been raising concerns about caste discrimination in higher education since the institutional deaths of Rohith Vemula and Payal Tadvi. Numerous Dalit and Adivasi students have faced severe harassment in institutions that have increasingly become hostile—and even deadly—spaces for those from the margins.
Ironically, opposition to the regulations now ranges from Shankaracharyas to self-styled godmen. This opposition is not rooted in ignorance of the BJP’s caste composition; the BJP is widely understood as a Bania-Brahmin-led party with representation from various communities. The Hindutva project has expanded its outreach among marginalised groups—this reflects not only the success of the Sangh Parivar but also the failure of many so-called progressive and anti-caste forces, some of which have remained deeply casteist in practice.
In Uttar Pradesh, sections of the brahmanical elite oppose the regulations largely to settle political scores with Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath, while remaining silent on Prime Minister Narendra Modi and Home Minister Amit Shah. Similar contradictions are visible in Uttarakhand, where criticism of Chief Minister Pushkar Singh Dhami coexists with unwavering allegiance to Hindutva politics. Such selective outrage exposes deep hypocrisy. When religious leaders condemn a chief minister but avoid addressing broader political realities, it reveals an unwillingness to challenge the system itself.
This moment reflects a deeper breakdown of trust among communities. Laws are necessary for governance, but they are not sufficient. Without meaningful changes in education—particularly the inclusion of anti-caste thinkers and movements in curricula—discrimination will persist. Children must learn early about the dangers of caste hierarchy and exclusion. Genuine social mixing and critical thinking cannot be legislated; they must be cultivated. The proliferation of laws today often reflects the state’s failure to build an inclusive society, even as political leaders actively promote divisions based on caste, religion, region, and language.
The resignation of an IAS officer citing discrimination against Brahmins further illustrates this imbalance. This comes despite the well-documented dominance of Brahmin-Bania communities in temple administration, civil services, universities, politics, media, and finance. One must ask: could a Dalit IAS officer resign making a similar claim without devastating consequences? Structural inequality remains undeniable, yet those most privileged often frame themselves as victims. It would have been transformative to see upper-caste officers resign in protest against discrimination faced by Dalits and Adivasis. But is such solidarity possible in today’s India?
The opening of 2026 thus feels deeply troubling. Conflicts are being stoked worldwide, diverting attention from social justice and reinforcing the dominance of caste and racial elites. For a stronger and united India, dialogue among communities is essential. If every group retreats into manufactured pride and perpetual victimhood, liberation will remain elusive.
Laws matter, but dialogue matters just as much. Equally vital is the creation of employment opportunities and equitable access to education. Democracy is not only about elections; it is about the democratisation of society itself. Are we prepared for that challenge? It requires confronting uncomfortable truths about our past without demonising individuals solely because of their identity. Structural violence against Dalits is real and must be dismantled. Educational institutions must cease being killing fields for young aspirants who fail to conform to dominant caste or religious norms.
We have debated our differences long enough. It is time to bring people together—with honesty, courage, and a commitment to justice.
---
*Human rights defender
Comments
Post a Comment
NOTE: Hateful, abusive comments won't be published. -- Editor