The Selective Lens of Hindu Nationalism: Ignoring Dalit Oppression in Historical Narratives

 

The Selective Lens of Hindu Nationalism: Ignoring Dalit Oppression in Historical Narratives

Hindu nationalism in India often constructs its identity around a selective reading of history, emphasizing perceived injustices inflicted by Muslim rulers while sidelining the deep-rooted and millennia-long oppression of Dalits within Hindu society. This selective historical narrative serves a political purpose but distorts the broader reality of India’s social history, particularly the systemic discrimination faced by Dalits under caste hierarchies that predate and outlast any external rule. By focusing almost exclusively on Hindu-Muslim conflicts, Hindu nationalists conveniently evade accountability for the internal structural violence perpetuated by upper-caste Hindus against Dalits, a practice that has persisted for over two millennia.

The Hindu Nationalist Historical Narrative

Hindu nationalism, as propagated by organizations like the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) and its affiliates, often portrays Indian history as a saga of Hindu victimhood under Muslim rule, particularly during the Mughal era. This narrative highlights events like temple destructions or forced conversions, framing Muslims as perpetual aggressors against a monolithic Hindu identity. While historical instances of conflict between Hindu and Muslim rulers are undeniable, this framing deliberately oversimplifies India’s complex past, ignoring the diversity of Hindu society and its internal hierarchies.

What is conspicuously absent from this narrative is any acknowledgment of the caste system’s role in oppressing millions of Dalits, who were relegated to the margins of society long before the arrival of Muslim rulers. By fixating on external “invaders,” Hindu nationalists deflect attention from the internal systemic injustices that have defined Hindu social order for centuries.

The Millennia-Long Oppression of Dalits

The caste system, deeply embedded in Hindu social and religious practices, has systematically marginalized Dalits (formerly referred to as “untouchables”) for over two thousand years. Ancient texts like the Manusmriti codified discriminatory practices, prescribing harsh punishments for lower castes who dared to transgress their assigned roles. Dalits were deemed impure, their touch or even shadow considered polluting by upper-caste Hindus. These beliefs were not isolated but institutionalized, shaping social interactions, economic opportunities, and religious access.

Historical accounts, such as those by the Chinese traveler Faxian (Fa-Hsien) during the Gupta period (4th–6th century CE), describe the plight of the Chandalas, a lower-caste group forced to live outside villages and announce their presence to avoid “polluting” others. This is not a relic of the distant past; discriminatory practices persisted into the modern era. Dalits were barred from temples, forbidden from drawing water from village wells, and subjected to humiliating customs like the “breast tax” in parts of South India, where lower-caste women were forced to pay to cover their bodies. These practices were not imposed by Muslim rulers but were enforced by upper-caste Hindus, who held social and religious authority.

Even today, the legacy of caste oppression endures. Manual scavenging, a dehumanizing practice where individuals (overwhelmingly Dalits) clean human waste from dry latrines, remains a stark reminder of caste-based exploitation. Despite legal bans, reports estimate that over 1.3 million Dalits are still engaged in this work, facing social stigma and health risks. Hindu nationalist discourse rarely addresses these modern injustices, focusing instead on historical grievances against Muslims or contemporary issues like “love jihad.”

Why Hindu Nationalists Avoid the Dalit Question

The reluctance of Hindu nationalists to confront caste oppression stems from both ideological and strategic considerations. Ideologically, their vision of a unified Hindu identity requires downplaying internal divisions like caste, which fracture the notion of a cohesive “Hindu nation.” Acknowledging the historical and ongoing oppression of Dalits would force a reckoning with the role of upper-caste Hindus in perpetuating this system, undermining the narrative of Hindu victimhood.

Strategically, Hindu nationalism relies on mobilizing a broad Hindu voter base, including Dalits, to counter perceived threats from minorities. Admitting the historical guilt of upper-caste oppression risks alienating Dalit communities, who have increasingly asserted their rights through movements inspired by leaders like Dr. B.R. Ambedkar. Instead, Hindu nationalist rhetoric often co-opts Dalit identity, portraying them as part of the Hindu fold while ignoring their specific grievances. This tokenism is evident in the selective celebration of Ambedkar as a Hindu icon, while his critiques of caste and Hinduism are conveniently ignored.

The Consequences of Selective History

This selective reading of history has profound implications. By focusing on Muslim oppression while ignoring caste-based atrocities, Hindu nationalists perpetuate a distorted understanding of India’s past that fuels communal tensions. This narrative not only marginalizes Dalits but also erases the contributions of lower-caste reformers who fought against caste oppression, from Jyotirao Phule to Periyar.

Moreover, it distracts from addressing contemporary issues like manual scavenging, caste-based violence, and discrimination in education and employment. According to a 2020 report by the National Campaign on Dalit Human Rights, over 40% of Dalit households in rural India still face untouchability practices, such as being denied access to public spaces or services. These are not relics of a distant past but ongoing realities that Hindu nationalist discourse sidesteps.

Toward a More Honest Historical Reckoning

A balanced understanding of Indian history requires acknowledging both external conflicts and internal injustices. The oppression of Dalits is not a peripheral issue but a central feature of India’s social history, one that predates and outlasts Muslim rule. Hindu nationalists must confront the uncomfortable truth that upper-caste Hindus were complicit in a system that dehumanized millions for millennia. Only by addressing this can India move toward a more inclusive national identity that honors all its citizens.

This is not to diminish the complexities of Hindu-Muslim relations or the historical realities of invasions and conquests. But a singular focus on one form of oppression while ignoring another is not just selective — it’s dishonest. True nationalism should uplift the marginalized, not erase their suffering. Until Hindu nationalists engage with the full spectrum of India’s history, including the painful legacy of caste, their vision of a unified nation will remain incomplete.

Famines in India Before British Rule: Causes, Impact, and Resilience

When discussing famines in India, colonial-era policies often dominate the narrative — and for good reason. The British Raj oversaw some of the most devastating famines in Indian history. However, India’s struggle with famine predates colonial rule, with numerous severe food shortages recorded throughout ancient and medieval times. Understanding these early famines is key to grasping the broader context of India’s agrarian economy, environmental challenges, and the resilience of its communities.

A Land Vulnerable to Climate

India’s dependence on monsoons has historically made it vulnerable to drought. A delay or failure of the rains could mean disaster for crops, especially in areas with limited irrigation. Before modern infrastructure, failed monsoons often led to localized famines. The arid and semi-arid regions — such as parts of Rajasthan, Gujarat, and the Deccan — were particularly susceptible.

Additionally, India has always been home to a vast and growing population dependent on agriculture. In the absence of modern transportation or food storage systems, even temporary disruptions in food production could trigger serious shortages.

Ancient References to Famine

Ancient Indian literature contains many references to famine and drought. The Rigveda (circa 1500 BCE) speaks of scarcity and prayers for rain. Kautilya’s Arthashastra (circa 300 BCE), an ancient treatise on statecraft and economics, includes detailed prescriptions for famine relief — a sign that such events were both known and frequent.

Famines were considered natural calamities, and rulers were expected to intervene. Relief measures often included remissions of taxes, free distribution of grain from state granaries, construction projects (such as digging canals or temples) to provide employment, and trade regulation to prevent hoarding.

Notable Pre-Colonial Famines

Some major famines before British rule include:

1. Skanda Gupta Famine (c. 460–467 CE)

During the reign of Gupta emperor Skandagupta, severe crop failures due to drought led to widespread hardship. While specific death tolls are not documented, the famine contributed to the weakening of the Gupta Empire.

2. Famine during the Delhi Sultanate (1335–1342)

Ibn Battuta, the famous Moroccan traveler, documented a devastating famine during the reign of Muhammad bin Tughlaq. The failure of crops over successive years led to starvation and migration on a large scale.

3. Deccan Famine under the Vijayanagara Empire (mid-15th century)

Medieval inscriptions and records mention prolonged droughts and famines in the Deccan plateau. The empire’s response involved food relief and irrigation projects, but not all regions were reached in time. Specific death tolls are not available for this period.

4. Gujarat and Deccan Famine (1630–1632)

One of the most devastating famines in pre-colonial India occurred during the Mughal era. The famine resulted from three consecutive crop failures, leading to intense hunger, disease, and displacement. Contemporary Dutch records estimate that approximately 3 million people died in Gujarat in the ten months ending in October 1631, while another million died around Ahmednagar. The overall death toll for the region was estimated at 7.4 million by late 1631.

Local Relief and Resilience

Despite the frequent occurrence of famines, many Indian kingdoms had mechanisms to mitigate their impact. These included:

• Temple-based granaries: Temples in South India, such as those in Tamil Nadu and Karnataka, maintained grain reserves that could be distributed during food shortages.
• Village-level storage systems: Panchayats (village councils) often maintained grain reserves.
• Charity and religious duty: Philanthropy was seen as a moral and religious obligation. Wealthy landowners and merchants were expected to feed the poor during distress.

The decentralized nature of governance often meant that famine relief was uneven, but the sense of local responsibility helped communities survive recurring crises.

Key Differences from Colonial-Era Famines

While pre-British famines were severe, they were often localized and met with active (if not always sufficient) royal or local intervention. In contrast, the colonial response was frequently marked by inaction or policies that worsened the crisis — such as continuing grain exports during shortages or enforcing market liberalization over food security.

Most importantly, pre-colonial famines were rarely accompanied by the scale of mortality seen under British rule, where estimates suggest tens of millions died between 1765 and 1947 due to repeated famines.

Conclusion

Famines in pre-British India were tragic yet recurrent features of agrarian life. They stemmed from ecological, climatic, and infrastructural vulnerabilities — but were often met with culturally rooted systems of relief and resilience. While these systems were not foolproof, they demonstrate a historical awareness of food insecurity and an enduring ethic of communal responsibility.

Understanding these early famines gives us not just a historical perspective, but also insights into how traditional Indian societies managed risk and survival — long before the arrival of colonial economic systems that disrupted these practices.

The Origins of Indian Cuisine: A Feast of History and Harmony

 

The Origins of Indian Cuisine: A Feast of History and Harmony

Indian cuisine is a sensory explosion — spices that sing, textures that dance, flavors that linger. From buttery naans to fiery vindaloos, it’s a global icon, feeding 1.4 billion at home and millions abroad. But where did it come from? Not one source, but many — ancient agriculture, invasions, trade, religion, and regional quirks — wove this culinary quilt. Let’s explore the origins of Indian cuisine and uncover the ingredients that made it what it is.

1. The Ancient Roots: Indus Valley and Vedic Times

The Seed: It starts 5,000 years ago with the Indus Valley Civilization (3300–1300 BCE). Archaeological digs at Harappa reveal wheat, barley, and lentils — early rotis and dals. By 1500 BCE, Vedic texts like the Rig Veda mention soma (a ritual drink), milk, ghee, and rice. Cows were sacred — dairy became king.

The Flavor: This era birthed staples — 70% of rural diets still lean on grains and pulses (NSSO, 2022). Spices? Black pepper from Kerala’s hills spiced things up, traded as “black gold” by 1000 BCE (Pliny the Elder’s records). Simple, earthy, sacred — India’s food foundation was laid here.

2. Regional Diversity: Geography’s Spice Rack

The Seed: India’s landscapes — Himalayan peaks, coastal plains, arid deserts — shaped its plates. Punjab’s fertile fields gave creamy makhanas and sarson ka saag; Kerala’s backwaters birthed coconut curries and fish moilee. The Deccan’s dry heat perfected spicy Chettinad chicken; Bengal’s rivers delivered hilsa fish and mustard oil.

The Flavor: Today, 80% of Indian households cook regionally (NFHS-5, 2021) — Gujarat’s sweet dhoklas clash with Tamil Nadu’s tangy sambar. Spices like turmeric (Andhra Pradesh), cardamom (Kerala), and cumin (Rajasthan) rooted in terroir, making “Indian food” a myth — it’s a mosaic of micro-cuisines.

3. Invasions and Empires: Mughal Magic and More

The Seed: Outsiders didn’t just conquer — they cooked. The Mughals (16th–19th centuries) brought Persian flair — saffron, nuts, and meat-heavy biryanis. Babur’s chefs fused kebabs with local spices; Shah Jahan’s kitchens birthed korma. Earlier, Alexander’s Greeks (326 BCE) left grapes and wine traces; Central Asian Kushans added samosa-like pastries.

The Flavor: Mughal dishes — 20% of urban restaurant menus (FICCI, 2023) — like naan and tandoori chicken became “Indian.” Their legacy? Richness — India’s meat consumption rose from 5% (1950s) to 30% (NSSO, 2022), though veggie roots hold strong. Invasions spiced the pot, literally.

4. Trade Routes: The Global Spice Exchange

The Seed: India’s coasts were spice hubs — Romans paid gold for pepper (1st century CE, Periplus Maris Erythraei). Arabs brought coffee to Malabar; Chinese traders swapped soy for chilies via the Silk Road. The Portuguese (1498) dropped tomatoes, potatoes, and chilies — Vasco da Gama’s gift reshaped curries.

The Flavor: Chilies, now in 90% of dishes (Spice Board, 2023), weren’t Indian — they’re New World imports, tamed by local masalas. Turmeric exports hit 2 lakh tons in 2024 (DGFT) — trade made India a spice superpower, blending foreign bites into dosas and gravies.

5. Religion and Ritual: Sacred Plates

The Seed: Faith flavored food. Hinduism’s ahimsa pushed vegetarianism — 60% of Indians avoid meat (NFHS-5). Jainism banned roots (no onions, garlic); Buddhism spread rice-and-lentil khichdi. Islam’s halal rules shaped biryani; Sikh langars gave us communal dal-roti. Festivals like Diwali (sweets) and Ramadan (iftar) set menus.

The Flavor: Religion’s deep — 50% of households cook sattvic (pure) meals weekly (Pew, 2021). Gujarat’s Jain thalis skip garlic; Punjab’s gurudwara prasad is universal. Food’s not just fuel — it’s divine, tying India’s 1,000+ festivals to its kitchens.

6. Colonial Legacy: The British Blend

The Seed: The British (18th–20th centuries) didn’t just take — they tasted. They mashed Indian spices into “curry powder” (a simplification) and took tea global — Darjeeling’s 70,000 tons yearly (Tea Board, 2023). Anglo-Indians birthed mulligatawny soup; railways spread chaat and pakoras.

The Flavor: Today, 30% of urban Indians sip chai daily (NSSO, 2022), a colonial tweak to Assam’s brew. “Curry” abroad — $5 billion industry (Statista, 2024) — is Britain’s doing, not India’s. The Raj left a bittersweet aftertaste — fusion with a side of theft.

How It All Comes Together

These sources aren’t silos — they swirl. Vedic rice meets Mughal saffron in pulao; Portuguese chilies fire up Punjabi tikkas; trade’s cardamom scents Kerala’s payasam. India’s 29 states cook 100+ cuisines (FSSAI, 2023), each a remix of history. Spices — $4 billion export (Spice Board) — tie it all, but dairy (50% of protein intake, ICMR 2022) and grains anchor it.

Why It Matters

Indian cuisine’s no monolith — it’s a conversation. Harappa’s lentils talk to Lisbon’s tomatoes; Mughal nuts nod to Jain austerity. It’s 5,000 years of chaos and genius, feeding a billion daily — 90% home-cooked (NSSO). Globalized yet rooted, it’s India on a plate — messy, spicy, unforgettable. Next bite, taste the story.