The statements of ‘‘minority-progressive celebrities’ (MPCs) like Naseeruddin Shah, Javed Akhtar, and others on public matters were generally believed to be modern, progressive, and inclusive. However, confidence in them has wavered over time, and various reasons are attributed as to why. As questions of identity continue to polarize in present-day India–protests against the Waqf (Amendment) Act 2025 and the ‘I love Mohammad’ demonstrations auguring new flashpoints–these celebrities will weigh in, as is their right, and as they have done in the past. It is equally pertinent and fair then to examine whether their statements and actions are as neutral as was earlier assumed.

Their defenders will likely claim my skeptical gaze has to do with wearing Hindu-Right-wing lenses. I reject that labeling and will ask why these MPCs aren’t considered Islamists (let alone Right-wingers) when nothing animates them as much as do issues surrounding that identity. I myself would attribute the change in perception to having paid closer attention to the MPC’s statements and political actions.

Observing the MPC’s actions over the past three decades a clear pattern is seen: they claim to be ‘secular’ as they criticize both minority (often Muslim) and Hindu fundamentalists; they criticize all politicians for disrupting communal harmony; and they insist that defeating ‘Hindu fundamentalism’–largely by voting for ‘secular’ political parties and through activism–would restore communal harmony. They were all for criticizing ‘secular’ parties, of course, but on the condition that one voted for them. But then, these ‘secular’ parties secure their ‘vote banks’ by pandering to those very minority fundamentalists that the MPC also criticizes. The net effect of the MPC’s celebrity and progressivism, then, is to criticize minority fundamentalists and ‘secular’ political parties only to ultimately strengthen them.

Few middle-class Hindus, now labelled ‘Bhakts’ or worse, would object to becoming ‘majority-progressives’ if it were on such terms! But these terms are not available to them; and if there is one thing the MPC and the progressives detest, it is the ‘non-secular’ Hindu. The ‘secular Hindu,’ on the other hand, earns their title by loudly and consistently repudiating any political identity or representation for Hinduism and by embracing its opponents.

This system of double-standards is not new. The ‘tradition’ these classifications emerge from runs roots backwards into colonialism and through the dominant ideologies of post-Independence India.

We will discuss these matters presently but let me state here that the go-to-Pakistan trolling of artists like Shah and Akhtar by some is inexcusable. These artists’ (and many others’) contributions and achievements have served their fields in India, and to hurl such abuse at them is to undermine India’s ability to contain multiple vibrant identities and viewpoints within itself. Besides, it takes a high level of delusion to deny that harmonious coexistence is not only a moral requirement but what will secure India’s future. Having said that, it takes a higher level of delusion to believe that the MPC’s politics–more accurately, the politics they are a subset of–are not the biggest impediment to harmony. MPCs are of interest here primarily as they are part of this discourse, and as they illustrate the extent of bias inherent in the ‘reform agenda.’ The discussion of specific statements they have made will follow in subsequent essays, but first we must understand this discourse’s elements, which necessitates a longish digression.

The ‘Reform Agenda’?

Shah recently wrote wistfully of an India he misses; the article is predictably high on (pun intended) both vacuousness and disregard for Hindu sentiments. Most Hindus, however, feel no nostalgia for that era. The time and political climate Shah pines for was one where ‘reform’ in cinema and society meant equating the Hindu religion and traditions with regressiveness, projecting Western ideologies as the only paths to progress, and portraying the minorities as unfailingly noble.

Few Hindus would have a problem with the last element unless it came at the expense of their own community. We will see that it did, even if subtly. Much of Shah’s and other MPC’s current resentment is about challenges to this ‘reform agenda,’ which had long dominated post-Independence cultural and political life. While they deny, for form’s sake, that the agenda is anti-Hindu, the claim is disingenuous. The extent of its anti-Hindu tilt is evident simply by applying ‘positive’ or ‘negative’ values to its elements.

Hinduism (the religion, society, attitudes, traditions) (Negative); embracing ‘Western modernity’ and moving away from Hindu roots (Positive); the noble minority (a seemingly accidental contrast to the Hindu) (Positive). All three strikes against Hinduism–in fact, the ‘positives’ are positive in contrast to Hinduism. Once the value-judgements underlying the ‘reform agenda’ are exposed its seemingly benign surface is seen to be covered with cracks.

If any of this seems overstated, recall some ‘archetypes’–or recurring characters, themes, and plots–from Indian cinema. Recall entire movies, characters, or storylines that critiqued or even mocked Hinduism for being superstitious, oppressive of women, caste-ridden, exploitative, or bigoted against other religions. Just Raju Hirani’s PK and Lage Raho Munnabhai are enough to go on but think also of themes like the mistreated wife and daughter-in-law in a patriarchal joint-family, the neglected daughter, caste separating friends or lovers, the cunning Hindu priest, the fake-sadhu, the communally charged Hindu, and disdain about ‘worshiping stones.’ Then recall movie speeches about empowerment, development, commonsense, and science as ways of ‘moving forward’–all of them shown pitted against Hindu beliefs or practices. And of course, recall the lovable minority character: the friend, the martyr, the fakir, the helpful neighbor, the benevolent church priest, the wise maulvi. Now try to recall instances of minority religions being criticized like Hinduism was, asked to modernize, or even a loveable, noble Hindu character in a minority-milieu movie. Hardly any come to mind, and those that do (like the Rajput ally of Salim’s in Mughal-e-Azam) are exceptions that demonstrate the rule.

This is no inadvertence: it is prejudice operating through selective targeting and careful avoidance.

Hinduphobia

Prof Vamsee Juluri’s (Disclaimer: he’s a friend and intellectual whose advice I often seek out) brilliant framework for studying Hinduphobia allows us to powerfully confirm the ‘positive-negative value’ test’s findings. Those examples that readily occurred to me and where the indicator wasn’t abstract, I have hyperlinked to film clips on YouTube as evidence. (Disclaimer: I am unaware of the copyright status of any of these clips.)

Consider the following indicators of Hinduphobia from this framework: the “Hindu view” being depicted through a militant character (while the counterview is provided by an enlightened minority figure [around 2:36hrs approx]  or a ‘secular Hindu’); depictions of the ‘Hindu mob’ attacking helpless minorities; sinister depictions of Hindu gurus or sadhus; non-depiction of Hindus as victims or targets of violence; suppressing the mention of identities of those who have committed atrocities against Hindus; erasing, ignoring, or suppressing Indian history prior to Islamic or European colonialism; ‘mocking Hindu worship as “idolatry” and false belief’; depicting Hindus as ‘[lacking] self-control, irrational actions, superstition’; talk of ‘cows more valued than’ humans (Shah has used this exact trope in a press quote); and ‘presenting Hinduism as a religion constantly in need of “reform.”’

It is sobering to think that these tropes are merely the tip of the iceberg, and even more sobering to think that Juluri’s framework was designed to capture Hinduphobia in Western ‘news’ media coverage. That they apply so well to Indian cinema reflects the extent to which Western and Middle Eastern colonial contempt and hatred has been internalized by ‘progressive Indians’ and expressed through the ‘reform agenda.’ It also shows the mutually-reinforcing system of ideology, imagery, and rhetoric that circulates incestuously between the news and fiction media.

Hinduism is ‘Communal’ How Exactly?

Researcher Dr Sufiya Pathan lays bare colonial assumptions about ‘communalism’ in India in a remarkable paper. She surveys several authors and focuses on ‘W.C. Smith’s analysis of communalism that remained most influential almost up to the 1990’s.’

Several takeaways relevant to the subject on hand are paraphrased here; however, I strongly recommend reading the full paper to grasp its nuanced conclusions. Pathan meticulously teases out the assumptions underlying Smith’s conception of ‘communalism’: one, proselytization is an indicator of a religion aspiring to something ‘greater’ than ‘group solidarity’ (or communalism); two, that Hinduism doesn’t proselytize is a sign of its ‘restrictedness’ (or communalism); three, not proselytizing shows Hinduism doesn’t ‘recognise the possibility of the salvation of mankind’; four, a religion that doesn’t aspire to universal salvation only expresses its group’s ‘immediate interests’; five, “[t]hus, Hinduism” by its very nature was doomed to be communal.’ On the other hand, ‘the rise of “Muslim communalism” in India,’ Smith assumes, ‘was contingent on special social, economic or political conditions.’ That is, Muslim ‘communalism’ is used as we understand communalism today: ‘“politicisation of religion,”’ while Hinduism is presumed to be inherently ‘communal’ for the reasons above.

Pathan points out these assumptions are questionable given that the ‘interests’ of adherents–the basis on which these conclusions are drawn–is not even defined and, equally importantly, that it makes claims about Hindu theology without providing any substantiation at all.

In other words, Hinduism is deemed ‘communal’ as it is assumed to be ‘restricted’ and ‘worldly’ because it doesn’t proselytize! Considering Hindu aspirations like ‘Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam’ (the world as one family), ‘Sarve Bhavantu Sukhinah’ (may all beings be happy), and Advaita (the ideal of realization of all beings’ oneness with god) –to name just a few–the ‘worldly’ and ‘non-universal’ assumption falls apart. Regarding proselytization, even Judaism doesn’t actively proselytize so is it to be assumed ‘communal’? Is Zorashtrianism to be considered a cause of communalism in India? More importantly, Islam and Christianity claim to be exclusive paths to salvation: how does this exclusivity, supremacism, or restrictiveness translate to universalism? How is their inherent friction with other religions to be accounted for?

Returning to Pathan’s paper, she explains Smith’s assumption that in Hinduism ‘each caste group expresses an even narrower set of interests applicable only to its own set.’ Once again, ‘interests’ aren’t defined and the claim is unsubstantiated. Pathan then turns to Smith’s statement: ‘“[t]o the Hindu, every Indian who is a Muslim is an outcast out-caste, an Untouchable with whom dealings must not be so intimate as to transgress certain formal rules.”’ Pathan infers through logic that Smith’s assumption is that each caste and sub-caste ‘pursue the narrow interests of the sub-group’ and that ‘Hinduism does not recognise any interests of the “out-caste”.’ It would follow in Smith’s reasoning then that Hinduism does not recognize any ‘interests’ of other religions either.

Even as Smith’s conclusions pile up, the basis goes unaddressed:  what are these ‘interests’ that separate Hindu caste from caste? It is never defined. What interests then does a caste or sub-caste pursue and exclude others from? It is not defined. Yet the conclusion is drawn that Hinduism is ‘restricted’ and ‘communal’ using this as a criterion. No account is given for the fact that ‘many colonial authorities noted, often with surprise, how tolerant Indian society was,’ showing that Hindu beliefs were not an impediment to harmony. No explanation is even given for gods, beliefs, practices, and traditions that all castes and subcastes share, which might determine common ‘interests.’ Smith also provides no instances of converts to Hinduism and whether castes were assigned or denied to them. And this list of glaring gaps is in addition to the profoundly problematic nature of the European understanding of Hindu society and ‘caste’ in the first place. Pathan concludes her paper with a call for further explorations into ‘how the colonial conceptualisation of communalism still entraps our understanding of ourselves today.’ Yet, these colonial concepts, along with their underpinnings, were imported uncritically into post-Independence academic, political, and journalistic work until recent decades.

The Purge Agenda

The harm, however, runs far deeper. To understand the logical conclusion of these conceptual assumptions, we must ask what Smith’s solution to Indian communalism was. Pathan observes that colonial writers believed that ‘secularism was enough in the West’ but not in India. For India, Smith concluded that ‘the problem would not go away unless India underwent religious reform or, as some proposed, was “purged” of religion altogether.’

Pathan then asks: ‘which religion [according to Smith and colonial thinkers] must be purged from India in order to solve the problem of communalism’ as they assume that ‘“Muslim communalism” does not require a religious solution but an economic or political solution’? The answer: ‘in so far as communalism is an amalgamation of both Hindu and Muslim communalism, complete solutions will have to wait until India is purged of Hinduism, because Hindu communalism has to do with the “restricted” nature of Hinduism.’

Here the connective tissue between the conception of ‘communalism’ and the ‘reform agenda’ emerges. Smith’s conclusion, Pathan explains, was likely informed by the then dominant, but now discredited, belief that ‘Islam had been extremely successful in gaining followers in India because of the existence of the caste system.’ For those who held this belief, it wouldn’t have been hard to foresee an India rid of ‘communalism’ through proselytisation out of Hinduism, embracing ‘rationalist–atheist’ ideologies (renouncing Hinduism), and by reducing Hinduism to the private whimsy of a ‘secular citizen’ (other religions would, of course, have a political identity as ‘minorities’). It isn’t hard now to see the appeal of the ‘purge agenda’ to minority politics, atheistic ideologies (Marxists especially), and Nehruvian Secularists.

Conclusion

The ‘purge agenda’ in culture is the result of the convergence of these three forces in post-Independence India. Understanding this suggests answers to several otherwise baffling questions in Indian discourse. Why is it that both ‘fundamentalisms’ are bad but only Hindu fundamentalism is marked for destruction? Why is the ‘secular Hindu’ required to denounce Hinduism while ‘secularists’ from other religions are not required to denounce their faiths? Why do MPCs openly criticize Hinduism (directly or through their work) while Hindu celebrities fear criticizing other religions? Why do ‘progressivism’ and ideologies (which claim to be progressive) hurl abuse at Hinduism while pandering to others’ fundamentalism? Why is the issue of caste weaponized to dilute Hindu interests and unity? Why do the ‘progressive’ and the ‘noble minority’ inevitably gang up against the Hindu?

Most importantly, it answers the question: why is the ‘reform agenda’ subtly, resolutely, and insistently hostile to Hinduism? It explains why the agenda’s structures, themes, language, and imagery are loaded against one religion alone.That it passes for ‘secularism’ in India may appear merely ironic, but in truth it masks something far more pernicious: that it is, in truth, the ‘purge agenda.’ And this is the agenda that ‘progressives’ and MPCs promote and are incensed to see challenged.