Patriotism as propaganda
One of the defining characteristics of a modern nation-state, as I have come to see it, is the constant attempt at relentless self-promotion to its citizens, particularly impressionable young minds. This is achieved through crafting a shared national identity tied to our sense of self and worldview. In countries like America and India, nationhood is accomplished through the school system, where patriotic rituals like the pledge and national anthem, selective historical narratives, and moral tales glorifying national heroes shape our perceptions.
While this propaganda can seem heavy-handed, it’s not inherently evil; in fact, a dose of patriotism may be necessary for a functioning society. As one experiences the world beyond borders, one comes to realize that patriotism serves a utilitarian purpose, allowing a nation to coexist and thrive
A nation with warts and holes
But personal growth also means seeing holes in these arguments; the nation has not always been fair to all its people, not quite in the moral light we were taught. With time, one develops a more thoughtful and nuanced view of your country that can trigger a sense of disappointment that stretches from recent years to the distant past. At times, disappointment gives way to disillusionment that turns into despair.
I’ve always been less of a romantic around nationhood. Still, the past decade has been especially brutal to reckon with, as India embraced and elevated a leadership with a troubling record around the treatment of religious minorities. Lynching, violence, and hate crimes have surged. A trail of despair and eroding faith in the very idea of India surfaced as lynchers were garlanded and rapists were elevated.
A crisis of faith
Like many Indians, I grappled with a crisis of faith. Earlier, I had thought that I was attached to a country that, despite its flaws and challenges, championed democracy, civil liberties, and minority rights, a Gandhian ideal that had inspired a nation. Despite its injustices, I had convinced myself that my country embraced tolerance and empathy, a nation that had once proudly proclaimed ‘unity in diversity.’
But this crisis forced me to reexamine my bond with India and question the very essence of the nation I once knew. To me, India was a great experiment. In a world where landmasses became countries based on monolithic identities of religion, race, or tribal affiliations, my India existed beyond religious faith, racial commonality, and tribal linkages. Our destinies were laced together in a land where our ancestors lived for thousands of years. This belief defined my connection to India, transcending mere constitutional patriotism; it now lay in tatters.
I saw the streets explode in jubilation, a cacophony of celebration, as Kashmir’s fate was brutally sealed, its autonomy stripped away like a privilege granted by a tyrannical King. Meanwhile, on the mainland, people were oblivious to their fellow citizens’ plight, trapped in a lockdown that dragged on for 75 interminable days. The Supreme Court averted its gaze, its silence a tacit endorsement of a siege that should have suffocated the very soul of a nation.
In parliament, the presence of a few served as a reminder of the majoritarian tide that had swept them into power; in the northeast, thinly veiled threats to cull Muslims from the National Register of Citizens hung like a miasma of exclusion and hate; yet the state elected the same leaders to govern them again.
More disorientation
So I reexamined the beliefs that once defined my relationship with my country, gazing backward through the lens of this ‘new India’ that had supplanted the old. The gnawing sense of disaffection felt like the anchors that once had moored me to my country had been unceremoniously severed. I could distance myself by no longer using terms like ‘we’ to define my relationship with my India in an attempt to disavow the collective complicity threatening to consume me.
But this instinctive ‘othering’ was a painful acknowledgment that the India I thought I knew was a fleeting illusion. Was that vision of India a mirage? Were democracy, civil liberties, and minority rights the legacy of a rarefied elite rather than an organic expression of Indian values? The erosion of these values, met with popular acclaim rather than outrage, was a stark reminder of what we as a people, were losing.
There have always been people who scoffed at this portrayal of India, calling it a romanticized privileged fantasy; they seemed blinded to the harsh realities beneath. Yet the truth is that the tolerant and empathetic India has always been the domain of the elite, a stretch for the marginalized – the poor, Dalits, minorities, and gender minorities. Kashmir could be a stark reminder of the hollow promises of a nation more fond of flexing its military might than upholding its constitutional vows.
Until June 3rd of this year, exit polls seemed to confirm these suspicions.
Then came June 4th.
The June 4th result
The arithmetic of politics shifted. Despite a favorable outcome for the National Democratic Alliance, the nuances of the mandate reveal a more complex story. As Yogendra Yadav noted, there’s a sense of slightly more oxygen in the air, a crack in the authoritarian facade allowing some light to penetrate. Deciphering the mandate requires an examination of the NDA’s performance versus past triumphs, of lofty claims versus the broader political landscape. The answer lies in the subtle differences between actual governance and the common man’s endorsement of political ideology; that distinction reveals a glimmer of hope.
The ruling party’s fortunes plummeted, plunging from the 400 paar campaign claim, with a loss of 63 seats that fell short of winning an outright majority by 32. Though the 0.8% dip in popular vote share may seem insignificant, that narrative needs a closer look. The BJP gained 9.3% votes as well as 20 seats in the south-eastern belt from Kerala to Odisha if you take the new gains out then the loss is 3.6% and in terms of seats is 83 seats in the rest of the country. Touting the NDA’s status as the largest party glosses over the complexities of this mandate. This is a muted verdict, far from a resounding endorsement. The truth is unforgiving.
What now?
The results presume a level playing field, but this was the most lopsided national election in independent India’s history. The ruling party wielded more advantage over the Opposition – in terms of money, media, and administrative machinery. The Election Commission was brazenly partisan. Yet, the people dealt the ruling establishment a severe blow, denying the NDA the popular mandate, moral authority, and legitimacy they expected.
The election outcome leaves things uncertain. While this result may not fundamentally change India, it rekindles hope. I’ve learned that the India I imagined, though imperfect, still exists. Our faith, built on shaky ground, must be recalibrated, and purged of myths. The path forward lies in fighting for a genuinely democratic, and just India, confronting the gap between ideals and harsh realities with courage, conviction, and truth
And till then we collect these tiny morsels of hope thrown our way, in the words of Faiz Ahmed Faiz, ‘nahīñ nigāh meñ manzil to justujū hī sahī, nahīñ visāl mayassar to aarzū hī sahī,’ (if not the destination, let at least there be desire of it, and even if we are not destined to meet, let at least there be wish for it to be.)
