The Parallel Shadows: White Supremacy in the West and Caste Supremacy in India

 

The Parallel Shadows: White Supremacy in the West and Caste Supremacy in India

In an increasingly globalized world, discussions about discrimination often focus on race or caste as isolated phenomena. Yet, beneath the surface, striking parallels emerge between white supremacist ideologies in the West — particularly in the United States — and caste supremacist attitudes in India. Both systems, rooted in notions of inherent superiority and inferiority, have historically justified oppression and continue to fuel resistance against efforts to level the playing field. This article explores how both groups decry affirmative action (or reservations in India) as “reverse discrimination” and selectively highlight underperformance among marginalized groups to perpetuate myths of lesser capability, intelligence, or work ethic — echoing the justifications once used to defend slavery.

Historical Foundations: Myths of Inferiority

White supremacy in the West didn’t emerge in a vacuum. During the era of transatlantic slavery, enslavers propagated the idea that Black people were inherently inferior, biologically suited for subjugation. This “myth of Black inferiority” portrayed Africans as less intelligent, more primitive, and naturally subservient, making slavery not just economically expedient but morally defensible.

Enslaved individuals were seen as wearing a “racial uniform” that marked them for exploitation, with pseudoscientific arguments claiming their supposed traits made them ideal for labor-intensive roles. After emancipation, these ideas intensified, evolving into Jim Crow laws and segregation to maintain white dominance.

Similarly, India’s caste system has long entrenched hierarchies based on birth, with upper castes (particularly Brahmins) viewing themselves as superior. Dalits (formerly “untouchables”) and other lower castes, including Scheduled Castes (SC) and Scheduled Tribes (ST), were historically deemed impure and fit only for menial tasks. This system, predating modern racism, shares ontological roots with white supremacy, where discrimination is cyclical and self-reinforcing.

As Isabel Wilkerson argues in her book Caste, both caste supremacy and racism function as hidden structures of domination, with white supremacy in the U.S. mirroring the “Caucasian caste” that enforces solidarity to secure privilege.

In India, caste manifests in servitude and disproportionate incarceration of Dalits, much like racism’s impact on Black Americans.

These parallels aren’t coincidental. Both ideologies rely on descent-based discrimination, where one’s birth determines worth. Efforts to equate caste with race have been debated globally, with Dalits pushing for recognition at forums like the UN, arguing that caste supremacy is a form of racism.

While differences exist — caste is more fluid in some contexts than race — the core mechanism of exclusion through perceived inferiority binds them.

Affirmative Action as “Reverse Discrimination”: A Shared Refrain

One of the most telling similarities is the backlash against policies aimed at rectifying historical injustices. In the U.S., affirmative action — designed to address systemic racism — has been lambasted by white supremacists as “reverse racism.” They claim it unfairly disadvantages whites, promoting a colorblind narrative that ignores ongoing white privilege. Phrases like “it’s OK to be white” have been co-opted to frame affirmative action as anti-white discrimination, echoing broader supremacist rhetoric. Critics argue it violates meritocracy, but this often masks resistance to challenging white supremacy’s hold on power. Even post-civil rights, “respectable” white supremacist ideas adopt reverse discrimination frames to delegitimize such programs.In India, caste-based reservations for SC/ST communities — quotas in education, jobs, and politics — face analogous attacks. Upper-caste opponents, often embodying caste supremacist views, decry them as “reverse casteism,” arguing they compromise efficiency and merit by favoring the “undeserving.” They claim reservations perpetuate division rather than dismantle caste, with some asserting that SC/ST beneficiaries are inherently less capable, thus lowering standards.

This mirrors the U.S. narrative: both frame equity measures as unfair advantages, ignoring centuries of exclusion that created the need for them in the first place.

Data, however, debunks efficiency losses, showing reservations often enhance representation without sacrificing quality — yet the myth persists to preserve upper-caste privilege.

On platforms like X (formerly Twitter), anti-reservation discourse amplifies these caste supremacist arguments, often under hashtags like #EndReservation and #FightForMerit.

Users frequently share examples of candidates with negative or low scores securing positions via reservations while high-scorers are denied, claiming this proves reservations reward “birth over worth” and push beneficiaries toward “lifelong shame.”

Common refrains include calls to “stop rewarding birth” and assertions that reservations undermine meritocracy, leading to inefficiency and a lack of dignity for all involved.

Influential accounts highlight stories of general category successes without quotas to argue that the system punishes talent, framing reservations as a “permanent seat” rather than a temporary ladder.

Others label anti-Brahminism or criticism of upper castes as “reverse discrimination,” drawing parallels to broader caste politics and votebank strategies.

These online echo chambers reinforce the narrative that reservations are a form of “new-age reverse casteism,” often ignoring socioeconomic contexts and portraying them as tools for division rather than justice.

Politicians in both contexts exploit these divisions. In the U.S., resistance to affirmative action aligns with broader anti-Black policies; in India, caste politics fuels anti-reservation sentiments, uniting upper castes against perceived threats.

As one analysis notes, these arguments serve as a “smokescreen” for maintaining hierarchy.

Weaponizing Performance to Reinforce Inferiority

Both ideologies selectively use data on “poor performance” to imply innate deficiencies. White supremacists historically cited enslaved Blacks’ supposed laziness or low intelligence to justify slavery, postulating that freedom would expose their “inferiority.”

Today, this evolves into claims that affirmative action admits “unqualified” minorities, whose underperformance “proves” racial hierarchies. Such narratives ignore structural barriers like unequal education and bias, instead blaming victims.In India, caste supremacists point to lower academic or professional outcomes among SC/ST groups as evidence of lesser capability, arguing reservations “prove” their point by promoting the unprepared. This overlooks systemic discrimination: unequal access to resources, prejudice in evaluations, and intergenerational trauma from caste oppression. Studies show that disparities stem from “unequal treatment” rather than inherent traits, yet the rhetoric endures to undermine reservations. Just as slavery’s defenders used pseudoscience, modern caste supremacists wield anecdotal “evidence” to argue that SC/ST communities are less hardworking or intelligent, echoing the racial justifications for bondage.These tactics aren’t just rhetorical — they perpetuate cycles of marginalization. In both societies, extractive capitalism thrives on such divisions, with racism and caste supremacy fueling exploitation.

Why These Parallels Matter

Recognizing the similarities between white supremacy and caste supremacy isn’t about equating experiences but understanding shared mechanisms of power. Both systems rely on myths of inferiority to resist change, framing equity as oppression. In the U.S., caste-like racism persists in incarceration and wealth gaps; in India, caste discrimination mirrors Jim Crow in exclusion and violence. Global migration has even exported caste to places like the U.S., where South Asians report ongoing bias.Dismantling these requires confronting the myths head-on. Affirmative action and reservations aren’t perfect, but they’re essential counters to entrenched privilege. As debates rage — from U.S. Supreme Court rulings to India’s reservation expansions — acknowledging these parallels can foster solidarity across borders, challenging the hierarchies that divide us.

Note: Views expressed are based on historical and sociological analyses; this article aims to inform, not endorse division.

The Unwitting Allies: How Western Liberals Fuel India’s Right-Wing Ascendancy

 

The Unwitting Allies: How Western Liberals Fuel India’s Right-Wing Ascendancy

In the glittering diaspora hubs of Silicon Valley, New York, and London, upper-caste Indian immigrants — often Savarnas — project an image of cultural vibrancy and progressive assimilation. They light up Diwali lamps on public streets, advocate for diversity in boardrooms, and decry Western racism with fervent op-eds. Yet, back home in India, many of these same individuals and their families champion policies that entrench caste hierarchies, vilify inter-caste unions, and stoke xenophobia against Bangladeshi migrants. This chasm isn’t mere personal inconsistency; it’s a systemic hypocrisy that Western liberals, in their earnest embrace of multiculturalism, unwittingly amplify. By shielding these voices from scrutiny, they provide ideological cover and material support to India’s right-wing ecosystem, allowing it to flourish unchecked.

The Mask of the Model Minority

At the heart of this dynamic lies the Indian diaspora’s selective identity politics. Upper-caste Indians, who dominate the skilled migration pipelines to the US and Europe, arrive as “model minorities” — highly educated, economically successful, and culturally “exotic” enough to fit neatly into progressive narratives. They leverage affirmative action critiques in the West while opposing India’s reservation system that uplifts Dalits and Adivasis, revealing a profound double standard rooted in caste privilege. 

In Silicon Valley, these “tech bros” rail against American xenophobia, yet fund campaigns in India that demonize Muslim “infiltrators” from Bangladesh, echoing the BJP’s anti-migrant rhetoric.This isn’t abstract ideology; it’s lived duplicity. 

Consider the everyday: In India, a Savarna household might maintain separate utensils for their lower-caste domestic help, enforcing untouchability under the guise of tradition. Abroad, that same family sues employers for discrimination, invoking the very civil rights frameworks they undermine at home.

As one observer notes, Indian Americans often lean left domestically — supporting Democrats and social justice causes — but pivot rightward on India, backing Narendra Modi’s Hindu nationalist agenda without a hint of irony.

This paradox isn’t accidental; it’s a survival strategy in a globalized world where caste networks provide economic lifelines, from H-1B visas to venture capital.

Cultural Celebrations as Cultural Imperialism

The hypocrisy sharpens during cultural displays. In the US, Diwali has evolved into a spectacle of fireworks, street block parties, and corporate sponsorships — often with little regard for noise complaints or environmental impact. If a neighbor objects, cries of “cultural erasure” ring out, bolstered by allies in city councils and media. Yet, in India, the same diaspora remits funds to families and organizations that protest public namaz (Muslim prayers) as “public nuisance,” filing petitions to ban them from streets and parks. God forbid a Hindu festival faces similar curbs; it’s decried as “appeasement politics.”This selective outrage isn’t isolated. South Asian feminists in the West, many upper-caste, amplify Palestinian solidarity or Black Lives Matter while ignoring caste atrocities or anti-Muslim pogroms in India.

Priyanka Chopra, a Bollywood icon and diaspora darling, embodies this: She headlines global women’s rights panels yet remains silent on the Gujarat riots that killed over 1,000 Muslims in 2002, under Modi’s watch as chief minister — a silence that shields right-wing narratives abroad

Western Liberals: Enablers in Progressive Clothing

Enter Western liberals, whose well-intentioned multiculturalism becomes a Trojan horse. Eager to atone for colonial sins, they celebrate Indian “diversity” without interrogating its caste-infused underbelly. Invitations to TED Talks, university panels, and Democratic fundraisers flow to these diaspora figures, who frame themselves as authentic voices of the subcontinent. In doing so, liberals launder right-wing ideas: Modi’s “digital India” gets applause as innovation, not surveillance; yoga retreats ignore the erasure of Muslim heritage sites.This support isn’t benign. Diaspora remittances — $100 billion annually to India — often channel into BJP coffers, funding campaigns that suppress Dalit activism and queer rights.

Tech CEOs of Indian origin lobby against H-1B reforms in the US, citing their own immigrant struggles, while their Indian counterparts push “citizenship amendments” that sideline Muslim refugees. Western liberals, by amplifying these stories without context, normalize the narrative that India’s right-wing is merely “cultural conservatism,” not ethnonationalist authoritarianism.

The irony peaks in minority protections. These immigrants demand safeguards against Islamophobia in the West — rightfully so — yet fund groups that lobby against caste discrimination bills in California, arguing it “stereotypes Hindus.”

Abroad, they play the “garib” (poor immigrant) card for sympathy; in India, they embody the elite, ensuring lower castes remain outsiders. As one X user laments, this is the diaspora “bending backwards to find redeeming values in Hindu fascists,” all while Western enablers applaud the performance.

The Ripple Effect: Thriving at Home, Empowered Abroad

The consequences for India are dire. Emboldened by uncritical Western acclaim, the right-wing doubles down: Reservations are branded “reverse discrimination,” inter-caste marriages face “love jihad” laws, and migrants are scapegoated amid economic woes. The diaspora, safe in their suburban enclaves, exports this toxicity via WhatsApp forwards and Zoom fundraisers, eroding secular fabrics without personal risk.Yet, cracks appear. Younger, intersectional South Asians — Dalit activists and queer Muslims in the diaspora — are challenging this hegemony, demanding accountability.

Western liberals must listen to them, not the high priests of hypocrisy

In the end, true allyship demands discomfort: Scrutinize the Savarna abroad as rigorously as the migrant at the border. Only then can progressivism dismantle the very hierarchies it claims to oppose — before India’s right-wing, fattened on Western goodwill, consumes the pluralism both sides purport to cherish.

From Bamiyan to Delhi: The BJP’s Hypocritical Embrace of the Taliban

 

From Bamiyan to Delhi: The BJP’s Hypocritical Embrace of the Taliban

How India’s Ruling Party Shifted from Condemning Buddha’s Destruction to Hosting Taliban Leaders — and Why Questioning It Makes You an Enemy

In March 2001, the world watched in horror as the Taliban regime in Afghanistan dynamited the ancient Bamiyan Buddhas — two towering statues carved into cliffsides in the 6th century, symbols of Afghanistan’s rich Buddhist heritage. The act was not just cultural vandalism; it was a deliberate erasure of history by religious extremists. India, under the BJP-led government of Atal Bihari Vajpayee, was among the loudest voices in condemnation. The Ministry of External Affairs issued statements urging the Taliban to protect the relics, and India co-sponsored a UN General Assembly resolution decrying the destruction.

Protests erupted across the country, with Sangh Parivar affiliates — often vocal defenders of Hindu heritage — taking to the streets to decry the Taliban’s barbarism. Fast forward to October 2025, and the same BJP government, now led by Narendra Modi, is hosting a high-level Taliban delegation in Delhi. Foreign Minister S. Jaishankar shakes hands with Taliban FM Amir Khan Muttaqi, and India announces the reopening of its embassy in Kabul.

What happened to the outrage? Apparently, it’s all “diplomacy” now.

This isn’t just a policy shift; it’s a glaring example of political hypocrisy, where principles bend to the winds of power. The same “sanghis” who once burned effigies of the Taliban are now defending the regime’s visit as strategic necessity. Question it, and you’re dismissed as ignorant of geopolitics — or worse, anti-national. But let’s unpack this turnaround, because it reveals a deeper rot: the demand for unconditional loyalty to the government, no matter how contradictory its actions.

The 2001 Outrage: When the Taliban Were the Ultimate Villains

Back in 2001, the Taliban’s edict to destroy “idols” like the Bamiyan Buddhas was met with global revulsion. Mullah Omar’s regime justified it as Islamic purity, but it was widely seen as an assault on shared human heritage.

In India, the BJP government didn’t mince words. On February 27, 2001, it condemned the decree and called for the protection of the statues.

Reports from the time describe widespread protests, including in Buddhist communities and among right-wing groups who framed it as an attack on ancient Indic civilization.

The Sangh Parivar, with its emphasis on cultural preservation, was particularly vocal. RSS affiliates organized demonstrations, drawing parallels to historical invasions that targeted temples. It was a moment of unity: the Taliban were the bad guys, pure and simple.Even years later, BJP leaders referenced the Bamiyan destruction as evidence of the Taliban’s fanaticism. In a 2021 speech, Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath equated support for the Taliban with anti-humanity and anti-India acts, warning against sympathizers and even jailing people accused of celebrating the group’s takeover of Kabul.

The message was clear: The Taliban represented everything the BJP claimed to oppose — religious extremism, destruction of heritage, and threats to India’s security.

2025: From Protests to Protocol

Cut to October 2025. Taliban Foreign Minister Amir Khan Muttaqi arrives in India for a groundbreaking week-long visit — the first by a senior Taliban official since the 2021 takeover.

He’s greeted warmly, meets with Jaishankar and NSA Ajit Doval, and discusses trade, humanitarian aid, and regional stability.

India upgrades its Kabul mission to a full embassy, signaling deeper ties.

Muttaqi even visits Deoband in Uttar Pradesh, home to a prominent Islamic seminary, under heavy security provided by the state government.

The irony? This is the same Yogi Adityanath who, in 2021, accused Deoband clerics of backing the Taliban and arrested Muslims on flimsy charges of Taliban sympathy.

Now, his administration is rolling out the red carpet, complete with Z-plus security and transportation for the delegation.

Critics like PDP leader Mehbooba Mufti have called out the hypocrisy, noting how the BJP embraces the Taliban abroad while targeting Indian Muslims at home.

When questioned, the response is predictable: “It’s diplomacy.” “Geopolitics demands it.” India needs to counter China’s influence in Afghanistan, secure trade routes via Chabahar, and isolate Pakistan amid its tensions with the Taliban over the Durand Line.

Fair points, perhaps. But why the selective amnesia? The Taliban hasn’t changed — women’s rights are still curtailed, minorities persecuted, and terror groups like TTP find safe havens. Engaging them might be pragmatic, but pretending the 2001 outrage never happened? That’s gaslighting.

Yogi’s U-Turn: From Jailing Supporters to Guarding Leaders

Yogi Adityanath embodies this flip-flop. In September 2021, he declared, “Supporting Taliban means backing anti-India, anti-humanity acts.”

His government cracked down, arresting young Muslims for alleged pro-Taliban posts or celebrations.

Fast forward to 2025, and Yogi’s UP police are providing security to Muttaqi’s delegation during their Deoband visit.

Old videos of Yogi’s rants have gone viral, sparking debates on social media.

This isn’t isolated. It’s part of a pattern where past condemnations evaporate when convenient. The Taliban, once equated with terror, are now partners in “regional stability.” And if you point out the inconsistency? You’re told to trust the government’s wisdom.

The Bigger Picture: Trump, China, and the Cult of Unquestioning Loyalty

This Taliban tango isn’t unique. Look at Donald Trump. In 2020, BJP supporters built a temple for him in Telangana and organized havans across India praying for his election win.

Modi called him “my friend,” and crowds chanted “Namaste Trump” at rallies. But by 2025, with Trump back in power and slapping 50% tariffs on Indian imports, he’s the villain.

Relations have soured over trade, Kashmir mediation offers, and energy disputes. Overnight, the narrative flips — no questions asked.

Same with China. For years, Xi Jinping was the enemy — border clashes, economic boycotts, apps banned. Yet in August 2025, Modi meets Xi in Tianjin, shakes hands, and calls for partnership.

“India and China are partners, not rivals,” they declare.

Tomorrow, it could be Pakistan: “Oh, they’re friends now.” And the faithful are expected to nod along.

This is the essence of “andhbhakti” — blind devotion. You’re not supposed to think independently. If the government says Taliban bad, echo it. If it says good, pivot. Spread the WhatsApp forwards, defend the Godi media’s mental gymnastics, and shut down dissent. Questioning isn’t critique; it’s betrayal. The real message: Loyalty to the party trumps principles, history, or logic.

In a democracy, diplomacy should be debated, not deified. The Taliban visit might serve India’s interests, but erasing the Bamiyan memory to justify it insults our intelligence. If “geopolitics” excuses everything, what’s left of accountability? Perhaps it’s time to stop being sheep and start asking why the shepherds keep changing direction.

The CJI Gavai Shoe-Throwing Incident: Unpacking the Controversy, Selective Outrage and Misplaced Anger in India

In a brazen act of courtroom disruption on October 6, 2025, 71-year-old lawyer Rakesh Kishore attempted to throw a shoe at Chief Justice of India (CJI) Bhushan Ram Gavai during a Supreme Court hearing.

Shouting slogans about the “insult to Sanatan Dharma,” Kishore was swiftly detained by security, but the incident has since spiraled into a national conversation on judicial respect, communal tolerance, and the double standards in India’s socio-political landscape.

This event, rooted in Kishore’s fury over a prior judgment by CJI Gavai, not only exposes the volatility of religious sentiments but also reveals how certain groups weaponize them while others exercise restraint.

Amid this chaos, the Supreme Court has issued numerous judgments in recent years that have been perceived as challenging Muslim practices, yet no Muslim has ever resorted to such violence against the judiciary. This stark difference underscores the Muslim community’s tolerance in the face of adversity. Meanwhile, the lack of stringent action against Kishore — despite his act — highlights how Hindutva fanatics often evade accountability, potentially emboldening further extremism.

The Prior Judgment: A Misconstrued Remark on Lord Vishnu and the Role of ASI

The shoe-throwing incident was not spontaneous but stemmed from simmering resentment over a Supreme Court judgment delivered by CJI Gavai in mid-September 2025, in what has come to be known as the Khajuraho case.

The plea, filed by a devotee, sought directions to reconstruct and reinstall a seven-foot idol of Lord Vishnu, which had been beheaded during the Mughal era and was discovered as an archaeological artifact in Khajuraho, Madhya Pradesh.

Dismissing the petition, CJI Gavai emphasized that the matter fell squarely under the jurisdiction of the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI), an expert body responsible for preserving historical artifacts.

He noted, “It’s an archaeological find, whether the ASI would permit such a thing to be done or not… there are various issues.”

In a light-hearted aside to the petitioner, who professed deep devotion to Lord Vishnu, the CJI suggested, “If you are saying that you are a strong devotee of Lord Vishnu, then you pray and do some meditation.”

This remark was misconstrued by elements within the Hindutva ecosystem as an insult to Sanatan Dharma, with critics accusing the CJI of mocking Hindu beliefs and deities.

However, the comment was far from insulting — it was a pragmatic redirection to the appropriate authority, underscoring the judiciary’s role in deferring to specialized bodies like the ASI for matters involving historical preservation.

CJI Gavai later clarified his stance, affirming, “I respect all religions” and emphasizing his belief in true secularism, while noting that his words had been taken out of context.

The judgment itself was neutral, avoiding judicial overreach into archaeological decisions.The ASI, established in 1861, operates under the Ministry of Culture, which is part of the central government led by Prime Minister Narendra Modi.

As such, any policy on restoring or altering artifacts like the Vishnu idol ultimately falls under the executive branch’s purview. If the Hindutva ecosystem is dissatisfied with the ASI’s potential reluctance — due to guidelines protecting the integrity of historical finds — they should direct their ire toward the Modi government, which has the authority to influence or amend such policies through legislative or administrative means.

Yet, the outrage has been disproportionately aimed at CJI Gavai, perhaps because deferring to the ASI disrupts narratives seeking judicial validation for religious restorations. This misplaced anger ignores the government’s role, raising questions about whether the criticism is truly about devotion or a strategic attack on judicial independence.

Supreme Court Judgments and the Muslim Community’s Restraint

In contrast to this aggressive response, the Supreme Court has handed down several rulings in recent years that have directly impacted Muslim communities, often reshaping their religious and cultural practices. The 2017 ban on instant triple talaq, the 2022 upholding of hijab restrictions in certain educational institutions, and ongoing discussions on a Uniform Civil Code have all been met with criticism from Muslim groups for encroaching on personal laws.

Despite these setbacks, Muslims have channeled their dissent through peaceful protests, legal appeals, and democratic engagement — never through physical assaults on judges.

No Muslim has thrown a shoe at a CJI, even amid judgments perceived as biased or intrusive. This pattern of tolerance, rooted in a commitment to non-violence and institutional respect, stands as a testament to the community’s resilience. As social media users have pointed out, “Muslims face rulings on talaq, polygamy, and more, yet respond with petitions, not projectiles.”

The shoe incident, conversely, exemplifies how some Hindutva proponents resort to extremism when faced with even mild judicial pushback.

Hindutva Fanatics Roam Free: No FIR, Muted Response

Following the incident, Kishore was questioned and released without an FIR being filed, as CJI Gavai personally directed officials not to press charges, opting instead for composure and continuity in proceedings.

The Bar Council of India suspended his license, but Kishore expressed no regret, claiming a “divine force” compelled him.

This leniency is telling: Had the perpetrator been Muslim, the fallout would be immense — multiple FIRs under contempt and assault charges, nationwide condemnations from BJP leaders, and a barrage of dehumanizing campaigns by the party’s IT cell.

In reality, while PM Modi called the act “utterly condemnable,” there have been no statements from the President or governors. BJP figures have issued measured rebukes, but online, Hindutva supporters defend Kishore as a “hero” defending faith. Critics like Nupur J. Sharma have shifted blame to the CJI’s “loose tongue.”

This asymmetry grants a free hand to Hindutva extremists, normalizing violence under religious pretexts.

A Broader Implication: Erosion of Secular Fabric

The episode, intertwined with caste dynamics given CJI Gavai’s Dalit heritage, signals deeper biases.

By targeting the judiciary while sparing the government, the Hindutva narrative risks undermining institutions. India’s Muslims have shown exemplary tolerance; it’s imperative that all communities follow suit to preserve the nation’s democratic ethos. Unchecked, such incidents could pave the way for more “Hindutva terrorism,” where fanaticism trumps law and reason.

The Carrot of Caste Census and the Stick of Anti-Reservation Propaganda

 

The Carrot of Caste Census and the Stick of Anti-Reservation Propaganda

Disclaimer: The views expressed are those of the user alone and are shared here for discussion purposes only. No legal liability is assumed, and readers are encouraged to form their own judgments based on independent research.

In the intricate chessboard of Indian politics, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) appears to be employing a classic carrot-and-stick strategy when it comes to caste dynamics and affirmative action. On one hand, the party has dangled the promise of India’s first comprehensive public caste census since independence, slated to begin in 2027, as a sweetener to woo lower-caste voters. 

On the other, a surge in anti-reservation rhetoric — often amplified by the BJP’s IT cell and affiliated social media handles — seems designed to stoke resentment among upper castes and dilute demands for expanded affirmative action once the census results emerge. This duality raises questions about the party’s long-term intentions: Is this a genuine step toward social justice, or a tactical maneuver to maintain power without upsetting its traditional upper-caste base?

The Carrot: Promising a Long-Awaited Caste Census

The BJP-led central government announced in June 2025 that the 16th national census, delayed multiple times due to the COVID-19 pandemic, would commence on March 1, 2027, and for the first time in nearly a century, include a detailed enumeration of castes. This move, described by sources as focusing on “caste, not class,” requires individuals to declare their caste and religion, marking a significant shift from previous censuses that only tracked Scheduled Castes (SC) and Scheduled Tribes (ST). The process is set to unfold in two phases, with data collection wrapping up by 2030 — conveniently after the 2029 Lok Sabha elections.

For lower-caste communities, including Other Backward Classes (OBCs), SCs, and STs, this census represents a potential game-changer. It could provide empirical data to address longstanding disparities, potentially justifying demands for increased reservations in education, jobs, and even the private sector. BJP leaders have positioned this as a fulfillment of social justice commitments, with party campaigns in states like Uttar Pradesh emphasizing it as a tool for equitable representation. Critics from opposition parties, such as the Rashtriya Janata Dal (RJD), have claimed credit for pressuring the government into this decision, but the BJP has framed it as a proactive step under Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s leadership.Heading into the 2029 elections, this announcement could serve as a powerful electoral carrot. The party might rally lower-caste voters by highlighting its role in conducting the census, portraying it as a pathway to “equitable representation.” Gullible or hopeful sections of these communities might buy into the narrative, believing that post-census reforms will follow. However, with results not expected until 2030, any substantive changes — like raising the 50% reservation cap or introducing private-sector quotas — would come after the polls, allowing the BJP to secure votes without immediate commitments.

The Stick: Fanning Anti-Reservation Flames on Social Media

Contrasting sharply with this promise is the relentless anti-reservation propaganda flooding social media platforms, particularly X (formerly Twitter), which has intensified since late 2024 and early 2025 — coinciding suspiciously with the census announcement. BJP-affiliated accounts and IT cell operatives have been accused of amplifying content that blames reservations for everything from infrastructure failures to societal ills, reaching what many describe as “delusional levels.”

Examples abound: In one viral incident, an Indian-American professor sparked outrage by attributing a deadly Air India crash to India’s reservation policies, claiming “freeloaders are more important.” Social media posts link reservations to brain drain, with users lamenting that talented individuals flee abroad due to “unfair” quotas. Even mundane issues like potholes or bridge collapses are absurdly pinned on affirmative action, as if meritocracy alone could pave roads or build sturdy infrastructure. X searches reveal a pattern: Queries for “anti reservation” or “blame reservation” yield posts tying quotas to unrelated crises, often with high engagement and from accounts echoing BJP narratives.

This rhetoric isn’t organic; it’s amplified by organized efforts. Reports from 2024–2025 highlight a spike in hate speech and divisive content on social media, peaking during elections and policy announcements. BJP IT cell members have been caught sharing edited videos or misleading claims to portray opposition leaders as anti-reservation, while subtly undermining the system itself. The pace has quickened post-census reveal, suggesting a deliberate strategy to desensitize the public to quota demands. By 2030, when census data might reveal stark inequalities, the ground could be prepared for upper-caste outrage to suppress calls for reform, ensuring the status quo persists.

The Underlying Realities: Persistent Backwardness Among SC/ST/OBC

This speculated strategy hinges on ignoring — or downplaying — the harsh realities faced by SCs, STs, and OBCs, who remain economically backward and under-represented despite decades of reservations. Data from recent surveys paints a grim picture.

Economically, these groups lag significantly. In Bihar’s 2023 caste survey (a precursor to the national one), OBCs and Extremely Backward Classes comprised 63% of the population but faced disproportionate poverty. Nationally, indicators from the Mandal Commission and recent reports show higher poverty rates among SC/ST/OBC, with limited access to quality education and jobs. For instance, systemic exclusion manifests in “deep-rooted deprivation,” as argued in a Madhya Pradesh Supreme Court affidavit defending OBC quotas. Estimates suggest that if the census confirms 75–80% of Indians belong to backward classes, demands for breaching the 50% quota cap could intensify — but only if propaganda doesn’t preempt them.Under-representation is equally stark. In central government jobs, OBCs hold about 22% of positions as of 2022–23, below the 27% mandate, while SCs and STs often fill lower-rung roles but remain below 11% and 5% in teaching posts, respectively. Thousands of reserved vacancies go unfilled annually, signaling inequality rather than abundance. In private higher education institutions, representation of marginalized students is “abysmal,” with calls for mandatory quotas unmet. Population-wise, OBCs, SCs, and STs make up over 70% of India, yet their share in elite jobs and education doesn’t reflect this.

BJP’s Balancing Act: Appeasing Bases Without Real Change

Historically backed by upper castes, the BJP has expanded its reach among OBCs and lower castes through figures like Modi (an OBC himself). Yet, this carrot-and-stick approach suggests a desire to placate lower castes with symbolic gestures like the census while using propaganda to ensure upper-caste “savarna” outrage mutes any push for meaningful reforms. In an ideal scenario for the party, the census proceeds, but demands for private-sector reservations or quota hikes are drowned out by anti-reservation noise.

This speculation isn’t without precedent. Past BJP moves, like lateral entry in civil services or privatization drives, have been criticized as anti-reservation. If the pattern holds, the 2027 census could be a masterstroke: Win 2029 votes with promises, then leverage built-up resentment to stall action by 2030.

Ultimately, this strategy risks alienating both sides if exposed. Lower castes might see through the delay tactics, while upper castes grow wary of endless appeasement. As India hurtles toward 2029, the true test will be whether this duality fosters unity or deepens divisions. For now, the carrot dangles enticingly, but the stick looms large.

The Trust Trap: How the People Closest to Us Fool Us the Most

 

The Trust Trap: How the People Closest to Us Fool Us the Most

In a world overflowing with information, misinformation, and outright deception, we’d like to believe that our inner circle — friends, family, and those who share our worldview — serves as a reliable shield against falsehoods. After all, these are the people we trust implicitly. Yet, paradoxically, it’s often these very individuals who fool us the most. Not necessarily through malicious intent, but because our defenses drop when information comes from familiar sources. We accept their words at face value, bypassing the critical thinking we reserve for outsiders. This blind spot isn’t just a personal quirk; it’s a cognitive vulnerability that permeates our relationships, politics, and society at large.

The Psychology of Unquestioned Trust

At the heart of this phenomenon lies a simple truth: we don’t question what aligns with our existing beliefs. When a friend shares a story that reinforces our views — whether it’s about a cultural tradition, a political scandal, or even a health tip — we let it slide through our mental filters unchallenged. Why? Because it feels right. It echoes our biases, providing that comforting sense of validation. Seeking a second opinion feels unnecessary, even disloyal. After all, if they’re like us, how could they be wrong?

Contrast this with how we respond to information from “the other side.” If someone with an opposing ideology or political leaning makes a claim, our skepticism kicks into overdrive. Driven by the innate human desire to be right (and to prove them wrong), we dig deep — scouring articles, fact-checking sources, and dissecting arguments until we find even a shred of evidence to dismiss it. This selective scrutiny creates an imbalance: we’re hyper-vigilant against external threats but blind to internal ones.

This dynamic plays out vividly in personal relationships. Friends and family, sharing similar values and backgrounds, become unwitting carriers of misinformation. A relative might pass along a family myth or a biased anecdote without verification, and we absorb it as gospel. Over time, these unchallenged narratives shape our worldview, entrenching biases we might otherwise question.

The Political Echo Chamber: Fooled by Our Own Side

Nowhere is this trust trap more evident than in politics. Supporters of a particular party or ideology are most susceptible to deception from within their own ranks. Right-wing individuals, for instance, often get fooled by right-wing sources precisely because those narratives bolster their preconceptions. False claims about immigration, economic policies, or cultural threats circulate freely in these circles, unchecked by criticism. Why bother fact-checking when it feels so affirming?

Meanwhile, the same people will scrutinize left-wing information relentlessly. Every statement from the opposing side is dissected, often until a minor inconsistency allows for outright dismissal. This isn’t unique to one side; it’s a universal bias. Left-leaning individuals fall prey to their own echo chambers just as easily. The result? Polarization deepens, and truth becomes secondary to tribal loyalty.

In India, this issue is amplified by the country’s diverse social fabric. Many live in self-imposed bubbles — offline and online — surrounded by people who mirror their religious, caste, or gender identities. Hindus in predominantly Hindu circles rarely engage with Muslim perspectives, leading to unchecked stereotypes and Islamophobia. Conversely, those immersed in Muslim communities might develop Hinduphobic views without exposure to counter-narratives. Upper-caste groups, insulated from lower-caste experiences, perpetuate casteist attitudes, while male-dominated friend circles foster resistance to feminism.

Social media exacerbates this. Algorithms feed us content that aligns with our likes, creating digital silos where diverse voices are algorithmically excluded. The more time we spend in these bubbles, the harder it becomes to escape. Obnoxious, narrow-minded views thrive in isolation, unchallenged and self-reinforcing.

Breaking Free: The Power of Diversification

The antidote to this deception isn’t cynicism toward those we trust — it’s a deliberate pursuit of diversity. Just as diversification in investing spreads risk and yields better returns, applying it to our social and informational diets builds resilience against bias. This means actively seeking opinions that differ from our own, even when it’s uncomfortable.

Cognitive dissonance — the mental discomfort of holding conflicting ideas — will arise, but it’s a necessary growing pain. Start small: If your network is mostly Hindu, befriend Muslims and listen to their stories. Upper-caste individuals should connect with those from lower castes to understand systemic inequalities. Men in male-heavy circles ought to engage with women to grasp feminist perspectives. And vice versa — the principle applies universally.

In politics, follow sources from across the spectrum. Read critiques of your favorite party; they might reveal blind spots you didn’t know existed. Offline, step out of homogeneous groups: attend interfaith events, join mixed-caste discussions, or participate in gender-diverse forums. Online, curate your feed to include opposing viewpoints rather than muting them.

This isn’t about abandoning your beliefs but enriching them. By exposing ourselves to “the other,” we sharpen our critical thinking, reduce susceptibility to deception, and foster empathy. In a divided world, especially in multicultural societies like India, this diversification isn’t just wise — it’s essential for personal growth and societal harmony.

Stepping Out of the Bubble

Ultimately, the people we trust fool us not because they’re inherently untrustworthy, but because we let them. Our biases create the perfect environment for unchallenged ideas to flourish. Recognizing this is the first step toward liberation. The next is action: break the cycle of narrow-mindedness by embracing discomfort and seeking diverse perspectives.

In doing so, we don’t just avoid being fooled — we become wiser, more compassionate versions of ourselves. After all, true wisdom isn’t found in echo chambers; it’s forged in the friction of differing worlds. So, reach out, listen, and question — even those you hold dear. Your mind, and your relationships, will thank you.

Conservatism or Reactionary Politics: What Defines India Today?

 

---

Conservatism or Reactionary Politics: What Defines India Today?

Politics in India has always been a delicate balance between the pull of tradition and the push of reform. In this tension, two closely related yet distinct currents often appear: conservatism and reactionary politics. While they are sometimes confused, they carry different implications for democracy, society, and governance.

Conservatism in India

Conservatism refers to the preference for continuity, gradual change, and respect for tradition. It is not necessarily anti-reform, but it resists sudden or radical transformation. In India, conservatism manifests in several ways:

• Social sphere: Reluctance to rapidly accept changes in gender roles, LGBTQ rights, or interfaith marriages.
• Economic sphere: Skepticism toward aggressive privatization, with greater comfort in a mixed economy and welfare-oriented state.
• Political sphere: Commitment to constitutional democracy and parliamentary traditions, even amidst turbulence.
• Cultural sphere: Deep respect for festivals, customs, and family structures, with selective adaptation to modern lifestyles.

Conservatism is thus woven into India’s societal fabric, guiding how reforms are absorbed over time.

---

Reactionary Politics in India

Reactionary politics, unlike conservatism, is not about preserving the present but about reversing reforms and restoring a perceived “golden past.” In India, it has taken several forms:

• Colonial era: Resistance to reforms like widow remarriage or the abolition of Sati.
• Post-Independence: Opposition to progressive initiatives like the Hindu Code Bill or caste-based reservations.
• Recent decades: Mobilizations around religious nationalism, backlash against globalization, and moral policing against Western cultural practices.

Unlike conservatism, which accepts change slowly, reactionary politics thrives on confrontation and nostalgia.

---

Which is More Prevalent Today?

Indian society largely functions on conservative instincts — slow adaptation, negotiation between tradition and reform, and preference for incremental change. However, in the political sphere, reactionary currents have become more visible in recent decades.

• Religious majoritarian movements, rewriting of cultural narratives, and caste-based backlash politics reflect reactionary impulses.
• Yet, everyday life — from acceptance of technology to gradual shifts in gender relations — shows that conservatism, not reaction, is the dominant social force

---

Conclusion

India is defined by a coexistence of conservatism and reactionary politics. Conservatism shapes the rhythm of social change, ensuring continuity amidst reform. Reactionary politics, on the other hand, erupts when groups feel threatened, often amplifying polarization and nostalgia-driven politics. The challenge for Indian democracy is to ensure that conservatism evolves into constructive reform, while preventing reactionary tendencies from undermining pluralism and constitutional values.