(This essay is part of an extensively-researched series of stand-alone articles that use the statements and activism of ‘progressive’ celebrities who also belong to minority communities to structure and analyze how the ‘secularism narrative’ operates in India. The first two essays–Minority-Progressive Celebrities: Part 1 ‘The Reform Agenda’ and Minority-Progressive Celebrities: Part 2 ‘Changing Landscape’–are published and available on Pragyata. The remaining essays in the series will be published on multiple platforms including Firstpost, Pragyata, and the author’s Substack.)

The generous view would be that Naseeruddin Shah is addled; if not, he is a liar. Consider these claims from his incoherent rant of a response to Balbir Punj’s Aurangzeb is no Role Model and compare them with what was actually said.

Shah accuses Punj of ‘[m]aking light of the glorification of Nathuram Godse’ […] ‘and being magnanimously forgiving about the British despite their ruthless loot-maar.’ What Punj actually wrote: ‘[d]espite these contributions, they [the British] remain ruthless looters of Indian wealth and guilty of colonising Indian minds.’ About Godse Punj writes: ‘Can figures like Aurangzeb, Adolf Hitler, or Nathuram Godse (the assassin of Mahatma Gandhi) be role models for any civilised society?’ Shah then claims that for Punj ‘[t]he glorification of Sambhaji is […] totally justified.’ The entirety of what Punj really wrote about the personage: ‘[h]e [Aurangzeb] also had Sambhaji Maharaj put to death.’ Then Shah, with the glee of having caught out a major contradiction, questions how the Mughals ‘rule[d] for centuries when their administrative abilities were so poor.’ But Punj made no comment on the Mughals’ ‘administrative abilities,’ rather, he reported that Samajwadi Party (SP) MLA Abu Azmi had ‘termed Aurangzeb a “good administrator” and claimed India had thrived under his rule.’ Punj argued that this sort of qualification was usually a prelude to assertions that ‘Aurangzeb was not a cruel ruler, his conflicts were political rather than religious.’ Each of Shah’s claims is a misrepresentation or an outright falsehood. Shah must believe the public square is a movie set where a star can alter others’ lines just to get the punchline.

In terms of discourse, what Shah is doing–with embarrassing crudeness–is ‘strawmanning.’ That is, diluting Punj’s argument by distorting his statements and then arguing against these weakened or absurd positions. Elsewhere, I have even found Shah misrepresenting his views on the film A Wednesday.

Having established just how suspect Shah’s relationship with the truth really is, we can now address the content of his writings and statements. I won’t go into the merits of them all as they have been more than addressed in Punj’s rejoinder and R Jaganathan’s article on Shah. Instead, I will focus on their latent Hinduphobia.

The ‘Litmus-Test’

‘The litmus test of whether you are committed to secular history writing is whether you are prepared to stand up for Aurangzeb!’ Arun Shourie wrote of Leftist historians. (And no, he hasn’t repudiated his earlier work after turning anti-Modi.) Shah’s alacrity in taking offense at Punj’s article–even while criticizing Aurangzeb in parts–suggests that he takes this litmus-test to heart. In effect, Shah implies that an attack on Aurangzeb or on the Mughals in general is a dogwhistle attack on Muslims: ‘Mughals (read Muslims).’ A corollary then would be that protecting Muslims is defending the Mughals and thereby defending, at least in part, Aurangzeb! Shah’s prickliness is even more striking when one imagines the shoe on the other foot: where any criticism of Hindu kings, culture, society, and history equalled Hinduphobia. Such claims exist and are routinely termed ‘majoritarian chauvinism’ or even Fascism. Then by what yardstick are Shah’s concerns ‘liberal’ or ‘secular’?

Returning to the matter at hand: Shah should enlighten us as to why Abu Azmi felt compelled to defend Aurangzeb’s ‘administrative abilities’ and to bring up the absurd and unsubstantiated claim that the Kashi Vishwanath temple destruction was the result of a Hindu priest’s misbehavior? Azmi was, quite simply, following a long tradition of using Aurangzeb as a symbol for community consolidation–in fact, the ‘litmus-test’ project (read: vote-bank project) of rehabilitating Aurangzeb’s image in history textbooks is evidence of this.

So innocent is Shah, however, that he doubts ‘if there is a single Muslim in India’ who hero-worships Aurganzeb. Shah forgets Abu Azmi, for one: but, presumably having just emerged from under a rock, Shah would do well to read this 2023 article from The Scroll (a website highly sympathetic to Shah’s ideological bent) titled ‘Why young Muslims in Maharashtra are drawn to the idea of Aurangzeb.’

The article quotes an intellectual saying: ‘Aurangzeb is becoming an icon of resistance against Hindu hatred.’ But even this effort to contemporize this phenomenon and place the primary blame on Hindu provocation is familiar and disingenuous. The same article quotes a young man who held up Aurangzeb’s picture in a procession saying: ‘Just like Shivaji Maharaj is an emperor for some, Aurangzeb is an emperor for others.’ But then, consider this speech quoted in J Sai Deepak’s India, Bharat and Pakistan: ‘The apotheosis of Sivaji gives us a foretaste, as it were, of what the poor Mohammedans have to expect under Hindu hegemony. If, then, our feelings are irritated, is it to be wondered at?’ This speech (dated 1910) was delivered at the Muslim League’s annual session. Perhaps Shah would be more amenable to acknowledging the Englishman Theodore Beck, whose speech was summarized in the Aligarh College Magazine (1895): ‘A friendship between the British people and the Muslims was possible, but not between Muslims and followers of other religions; for example, the followers of Shivaji and those of Guru Govind Singh would never agree with the Muslims in accepting Aurangzeb as their hero.’ Surely then, the Aurangzeb adulation goes a little farther back than Narendra Modi’s rise? And while Aurangzeb-revering Muslim Leaguers might have found the ‘Shivaji apotheosis’–brought about by Congressmen like Lokmanya Tilak–objectionable, no one committed to giving up the celebration of Shivaji in Independent India! Then what explains the recurrence of pre-Independence patterns like this Aurangzeb-sensitivity?

The MPC Discourse in Action and Its Harm

All too often, supposedly moderate discourse in India has echoes of pre-Independence Muslim-League communalism, even if it is obscured by smokescreens of denial, dismissal, grievance, and misdirection. There is a background to this.

Broadly, in post-Independence India, with the Congress’s continuing rejection of the Two-Nation theory and in the aftermath of Gandhiji’s assassination, the Hindu Right was marginalized. The  ‘reform agenda’–a template that criticized Hindu society and traditions, embraced Western models of progress, and unconditionally espoused the minorities’ cause–became normalized supposedly for the sake of ‘progress’ and national unity. However, in a turn that was as grotesque as it was ironic, even as the bogey of a ‘Hindu Pakistan’ was used to make the Hindu voice taboo, subtle versions of Muslim-League narratives were normalized through ‘litmus-test’ history writing and other means primarily to secure minority vote-banks in elections. So much so that this communally-biased view now passes for  ‘secularism.’

Throughout this essay series, I have explored how this supposedly ‘secular discourse’–including the so-called moderate (or neutral) voice of  ‘minority-progressive-celebrities’ (MPCs)–is a confluence of soft minority fundamentalism and ideological Leftism (or ‘progressivism’) that pushes a Hinduphobic agenda. I have also identified eight elements of discourse that ‘minority-progressive-celebrities’ (MPCs) like Shah use that favor their own communities and disadvantage Hinduism. While eight categories better capture nuance, for ease of use here we may condense them into the following four.

One, the MPC minimizes the currency of fundamentalism in their own community and exaggerates majority-fundamentalism. Two, the MPC brands any adverse portrayal of minorities as ‘hate.’ Three, the MPC underplays historical excesses or prejudice by their own community, takes pride in minority contributions to Indian culture, and remains largely silent on the achievements of the majority’s culture. Four, the MPC is evasive on social issues within their own community while being vocal on the majority’s social-ills in the name of ‘secular social critique.’ Shah’s articles clearly display the first three elements, and in other comments and statements he frequently displays the fourth.

It must be stated here that the existence of fundamentalism amongst the minorities should neither be exaggerated nor generalized to the entire community–just as it should not be in the case of the majority–but it cannot be covered up either by lashing out at the majority. Yet, much of the MPC effort is just that.

Underplaying Fundamentalism, Alleging Islamophobia, Disregarding Indic Culture

Even as Shah underplays minority extremism saying that Aurangzeb has no support in the community, he declares that clubbing Mughals with ‘marauders’ is proof of ‘the Islamophobia prevalent the world over today’. Observe the ease with which Shah casts this aspersion at Hindus (and others)–without hesitation or substantiation–while the mere suggestion of extremism amongst Muslims gives him offense.

Shah then mentions that Islam first appeared peacefully in the Malabar centuries before the Mughals and no temples were destroyed then. This is a blatant evasion: if Shah’s example demonstrates anything it is the tolerance of the host culture that allowed Arab traders to peacefully settle and practice their faith. Triumphant Islamic armies, on the other hand, did loot, desecrate, and destroy temples. And the same Malabar coast when charged with the Muslim League’s fundamentalism saw the unspeakable horrors of the Moplah Outrage of 1921 visited upon Hindus. Shah, of course, pretends this context doesn’t exist.

Then there is the age-old issue of honoring Shivaji being seen as a provocation. Why should that be an issue at all if, as Shah insists, the hero-worship of figures like Aurangzeb doesn’t exist? And while Shah himself steers clear of mentioning Shivaji, he cannot resist lashing out at Shambhaji’s ‘glorification.’ But surely, if some feel moved to laud Aurangzeb’s administrative abilities or economic management despite his bigotry, then others are justified in being moved by Shambhaji–whatever the alternative views of his reign–valorously choosing torture and death over conversion under duress–the two options left to him by the ‘great administrator.’

Shah also tosses about the names of Sarvarkar and Godse (falsely, as shown above) as evidence of Hindu extremism. His finding Sarvarkar’s politics objectionable is understandable; but then Shah himself, with his defense of the Mughals, insists that the positive be mentioned along with the negative. In that case, Sarvarkar’s suffering and sacrifice as a freedom fighter must also be highlighted, whatever be his later views. And if that suggestion is offensive to Shah, then he should be willing to accept that his outburst at the mention of Aurangzeb (or Mughal atrocities in general)–which is in the tradition of the Muslim League, was utilized by British two-nation-theorists, and places him in the company of contemporary fundamentalists in India and Pakistan–is problematic as well.

A Soft-Focus Gaze on Partitionists

Shah’s expectation of universal contempt for Sarvarkar is, in fact, a prime example of the warped worldview created by ‘litmus-test’ history writing. For example, in his memoir And Then One Day, Shah calls out Aligarh Muslim University (AMU) for being a ‘hotbed of communal conservatism if not downright fundamentalism’ and for not ‘fulfilling its aims of helping create generation after generation of educated enlightened Muslims to contribute to the growth of the community and to integrate with the rest of the country.’ Shah’s sentiment is laudable, but his admiration for AMU’s founders’ ideals demonstrates how ‘secular’ history writing has demonized Hindu personalities and institutions while perpetuating fairytale beliefs about minority figures and institutions.

A solidly-documented counterview shows that the founding ideals of Sir Syed Ahmad Khan were the ‘Dehlawite vision’ of ‘reclaiming Muslim state power’–lost to the Marathas, Sikhs, and then the British–by creating ‘individuals who could navigate the colonial state and the “modern” world’–in other words, individuals who would be British loyalists until Muslim state power could be restored. It is only by presuming the Leftist-whitewashed depiction of AMU-founder Syed Ahmad Khan’s bigotry and his investment in the Two-Nation theory that Shah is able to write that the British ‘nurtured the saplings of division and hatred among Hindus and Muslims.’ Without a doubt the British divided the two communities, but only after the Two-Nation theory had been ‘nurtured’ from sapling to giant tree by Khan and his collaborators. Khan had articulated views of Islamic nationhood as early as 1876, while Sarvarkar was writing of both Hindus and Muslims being ‘children of the soil of Hindusthan’ as late as 1909.

So Sarvarkar–a revolutionary freedom fighter, Cellular Jail inmate, one who suffered torture and privation, and whose family paid a terrible price for his activism–is expected to invite automatic opprobrium for communal views. On the other hand, Khan and others whose communalism drove the country to the Partition are to be deemed ‘noble reformers’–innocents misled by evil ‘divide-and-rule’ Britishers? The magnitude of this distortion is staggering.

Shah still has a right to protest Sarvarkar’s glorification for some of his later views, but he does not have a right to claim one-way Hindu chauvinism and go unchallenged. By all means look at the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) and the Hindu Mahasabha or figures like Sarvarkar critically, but personalities like Khan, the Muslim League, AMU, Deoband institutions, Barelvi institutions, and the history of the Khilafat agitation must be examined with equally critical eyes. And then ask why independent, post-Partition, 21st-century India must entertain and debate the tropes and themes of the Muslim League? And before jumping to blame it on fears of ‘Hindu nationalism,’ keep in mind that such tropes were last weaponized against the Indian National Congress and its leaders like Tilak and, later, Gandhi.

Hard-Focus in Today’s Debates

Even as Shah rubbishes the possibility of any extremism amongst Indian Muslims, his  alarmist talk about Hindu extremism extends to writing of ‘cow vigilantes’ and the ‘soon-to-be total disappearance of pluralism, secularism and co-existence in our own country.’ Jagganathan calls it out, writing: ‘[w]hile no one is about to defend “cow vigilantes”, whose actions have since tapered off, the question is why Shah chooses to mention only these groups and ignores mobs shouting “sar tan se juda”?’ Why is Shah so silent on politics and institutions that facilitate the latter kind of extremism if not for this narrative of one-way Hindu chauvinism? But Shah continues to blame Hindus and casually disregard their sentiments with insouciance that borders on hubris.

For instance, in another article, Shah writes that as a child ‘[n]amaaz in the Adhai Din Ka Jhonpda surrounded by Hindu sculptures I thought was the coolest idea.’ Does the grown-up Shah believe that mentioning it speaks for his ‘secularism’? And how would it do that: by showing that he wasn’t offended by Hindu and Jain ‘sculptures’ in a mosque? If not, then what was his intention? The thought that Hindus and Jains would be offended by these reminders of violence and destruction upon their temples doesn’t even remotely occur to Shah. But then, another one of the functions of the MPC is to pretend that the remarkable Indic culture is an inconsequential, if occasionally ornamental, relic of the past.

In that very vein, Shah perfunctorily concedes that temples were destroyed by the Mughals before quickly adding that the Mughals also built and patronized temples. Perhaps concerned that Hindus might revel in this sliver of conceded victimhood, he goes on to say that mosques and cathedrals were destroyed or desecrated by Soviet Russia and China as well. Then why object when the odium attached to communist Russian or Chinese governments is attached to the medieval Mughals?

But object he does. Shah believes the Mughals deserve credit as they ‘stayed on and left behind treasures of architecture, literature, painting, music and poetry,’ instead of ‘looting and scooting.’ One wonders if the Hindus of medieval times wouldn’t have preferred their ‘looting and scooting.’ Regardless, this suggestion would not offend so long as due respect were also given to the Indic cultural heritage that predated these invasions. Wherever is that culture even mentioned in Shah’s ramblings? But as mentioned, the MPC tends to be culturally-conservative as far as minority influences go and silent on Indic cultural achievements–at best, they are ‘cool’ backgrounds like those Hindu and Jain sculptures in a mosque. There are honorable exceptions to this category of MPC, but very few.

A Clearer View

There is a case for not judging medieval kings or practices by modern standards. What is offensive, however, is the suggestion that the ‘negatives’ (like temple destruction or religious repression) be brushed under the carpet while the ‘positives’ (like Aurangzeb’s ‘administrative abilities’ or ‘architecture’–some of it built over desecrated Indic temples) be highlighted. Especially when the same generosity of spirit doesn’t extend to Hinduism. There is no reason then why gushings about Babur, Shah Jahan, and Aurangzeb should not be tempered with open discussion of temple destruction and other acts of bigotry; similarly, there is no reason that Akbar’s ‘greatness’ should not be reconsidered given that he did order the massacre of over 30,000 non-combatant Hindu civilians, enslavement of others, and desecration of temples in the aftermath of the Siege of Chittorgarh.

Invested as the likes of Shah may be in the Mughal legacy, debates about them are valid. For instance, an alternative view exists that Aurangzeb’s campaigns–a big part of his ‘administration’–against other Muslim rulers in the Deccan, the Marathas, and the Sikhs began the destruction of the Mughal empire. Reading between the lines of Shah’s tirades, however, one gathers that his vexation with the debate is on two counts: one, the questioning of the school-boyish notion that the Mughal period was a ‘golden age’ for India as a whole; and second, the questioning of the idea that the Mughal era provided a template for  contemporary ‘secularism’–perhaps in the form of the so-called ‘Ganga-Jumni tehzeeb.’

This is particularly evident in Shah’s stunning assertion that the Mughals other than Aurangzeb ‘are recorded as being pretty much secular.’ What kind of secularism would that be: Islamic dominance with occasional concessions to the Hindu majority? The very same power-dynamic holds true for the ‘Ganga-Jumni tehzeeb.’ How can either of these be an inspiration, let alone a template, for contemporary India? And ultimately, when the towering achievements of Hindu rulers gain them no reprieve from the criticism of being premodern in values, why should Islamic rulers or British colonialists receive any such concession?

Defending Fundamentalism in Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Afghanistan

Shah’s denial of Islamic fundamentalism even extends to hostile countries like Pakistan and Bangladesh. ‘[Not only do they [Pakistanis] allow us [Indian artists], they welcome us and honour us,’ he writes. One wonders who Shah really means by ‘us.’ For instance, Javed Akhtar has pointed out that Lata Mangeshkar was never invited to Pakistan. One also finds no record of Indian Hindustani music legends like Bhimsen Joshi, Pandit Jasraj, or Kumar Gandharva being hosted by Pakistan either. In times of political thaw, India has hosted qawwals, classical musicians, and ghazal singers–language or religious content not being an impediment. Can the same be said for Pakistan? Does a welcome extended to Shah–a Muslim and an Urdu and English language theatre artist–equal openness to all Indian artists?

Former Foreign Secretary Shyam Saran–whom none accuse of being a BJP-man–writes: ‘Pakistan also uses our shared language and culture to arouse sentimentality. This mawkishness camouflages its mostly unsentimental aims as a state with hostile intent. Indian civil society and political leaders fall prey to this tactic, having no clue about the ulterior intent. Our bonds of language and culture are very real and should be used to advance links but they must not influence the calculus of interstate relations.’ Yet, Shah decides that a time of conflict is ideal for him to criticize Indians and speak for Pakistanis.

Specifically, in the aftermath of the brutal Pahalgam terror attack, where 26 civilians were identified as Hindus and killed and India retaliated by launching Operation Sindoor, Shah stated that Indians are giving into some ‘feral urge’ to hate all Pakistanis ‘for what their government (read, army) does.’ As Saran’s statement implies, this supposed distinction between Pakistani civilians, government, and army has long been used by Pakistan to evade responsibility for malevolent intent. But for all his outrage at fellow-Indians, a single word doesn’t escape Shah about India dealing with a Pakistani citizenry that is raised on textbooks that demonize Hindus and India and on institutionalized ambitions of ‘Ghazwa-e-Hind’? And where is Shah’s condemnation of the Pakistani citizenry’s ‘feral urges’ that allow it delusions of victory even after Pak forces receive a sound trashing with Op Sindoor?

On the contrary, the mere mention of fundamentalism in neighboring countries raises Shah’s hackles. He bristles at Punj connecting  ‘the death of pluralism, secularism and co-existence in foreign lands like Bangladesh, Afghanistan and Pakistan (overlooking India, that is Bharat, of course) to the disappearance of Hindu-Buddhist-Sikh communities in those countries.’ First, given that these neighbors are often hostile towards India, why should this observation incense Shah–for instance, was he not following the developments in Bangladesh? Second, while it isn’t clear that Punj was making a theological statement, he makes a valid point about the nature of fundamentalism in these countries. A rudimentary check will reveal that in West Pakistan Hindus made up 14.6% of the population in 1941; and that dropped to 1.6% by 1951. That is, they dropped from being a percentage comparable to Muslims in India to about 2% today. In East Pakistan the percentage of Hindus was 28% in 1941, down to 22% in 1951, down to 13.5% in 1974, and further down to 7.95% in 2022. In Afghanistan, Hindu and Sikh populations have dwindled to near extinction. Since Shah is an ardent supporter of Amnesty International’s criticisms of India–even appearing in an advertisement for the organization–perhaps he should accept Amnesty’s claims that minorities are treated abominably in Pakistan, Afghanistan, and Bangladesh. Even if he doesn’t, these statistics themselves speak of forced exoduses, persecution, coercive conversions, and systemic attrition. And if Shah’s outrage comes from assuming that Punj made a theological statement, then why does he feel entitled–by himself or by piggybacking on ‘progressives’ backs–to criticize Hinduism?

Fishing in Hinduism’s Troubled Waters

Shah has certainly indulged in his share of the fourth MPC function of indirectly criticizing Hinduism and trying to hinder majority unity. As referenced in an earlier essay in this series, Shah declares that the Indian film Manthan and the Pakistani film Khuda Ke Liye were the most important films he had acted in. The reason: they dealt with caste and religion respectively. Of course, movies like Manthan make no attempt to distinguish between the social-ill and Hinduism itself; Khuda Ke Liye, on the other hand, shows all ills in Muslim society as societal corruptions and non-attributable to Islam itself. How convenient for Shah! Notably, Shah’s sudden awareness of caste coincided with the Indian Opposition’s focus on caste to counter Hindu assertion. It is Shah’s right to add his voice to that cause. However, one then wonders why Shah is not as outspoken on the issue of caste discrimination amongst South Asian Muslims, Christians, and other minorities? It is less surprising when one considers that the MPC routinely tries to meddle with majority harmony while papering over social-ills amongst the minorities.

Conclusion

The purpose of this exercise was not to suggest that fundamentalism is wide-spread amongst Indian minorities, especially Muslims. I believe that Indian minorities, like Indian Hindus, are largely moderate. The aim was to show how minority and progressive elites create space for minority fundamentalism by underplaying it, indirectly promoting it, and shrinking resistance by exaggerating majority fundamentalism. It was also intended to ask how it is that Shah can have rose-tinted views of the Mughals, the Partitionists, the histories and citizenry of the two hostile countries that emerged from Partition, show open contempt at Hindu freedom-fighters and icons, accuse Indian Hindus of being bigoted, blame all evils on ‘Hindu Nationalism’ and still be considered ‘secular’?