Politics of Fear

A Swiss friend once asked me: “How could a nation of hundreds of millions be colonised by the British for nearly 200 years?” It’s an excellent question, but the answer isn’t simple. We were never one nation but were a collection of kingdoms, languages, religions, castes, races, and cultures. Uniting them for a single cause was almost impossible. On top of that, centuries of feudal mindset had conditioned most people to accept hierarchy and authority without question. We were used to having masters — only the flag on top changed. Even today, not much has changed at a deeper level. We remain a largely feudal society trapped in mental slavery, except now the masters are not British officers but our own politicians, bureaucrats, and powerful elites. The average person still waits for a “leader” to tell them what to do — the herd mentality is very much alive. That’s why it’s still so easy for those in power (especially the government) to intimidate people, spread fear, and get whatever they want done. The chains are off our hands, but many are still around our minds. We were not a nation but scattered kingdoms during the British era and had to wait for a Gandhi to lead us. Back then we were fighting foreign invaders, but today our democracy is being destroyed by our own brown sahibs. This makes the struggle far more complex and complicated. In fact, elections are allegedly stolen through EVM tampering and large-scale disenfranchisement of voters. The ruling dispensation has created a perfect climate of fear in which every dissenting voice is silenced—either through jail, intimidation, or worse. Why has this become such an easy task for the current government? There are many reasons, including our own lack of courage and the mental slavery ingrained in us- the fear of power is deep rooted in us. However, to understand how a government can systematically turn an entire society into subservient subjects, one must study Nazi Germany. Hitler began practising this in the early 20th century when most Germans saw him as a strong leader who would restore national pride. Born into humble circumstances, he promised to make Germany great again and created a convenient enemy in the Jews, blaming them for all the nation’s problems. He systematically indoctrinated the German people through relentless propaganda. Under Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi Minister of Propaganda, every newspaper, radio station, film studio, publishing house, and theatre came under total state control. Opposing voices were silenced, jailed, or killed. Goebbels famously said: “If you tell a lie big enough and keep repeating it, people will eventually come to believe it.” Examples of these big lies include: • Jews were responsible for Germany’s defeat in 1918 (the “stab-in-the-back” myth). • Jews secretly controlled both capitalism and communism. • Germany needed “Lebensraum” and was surrounded by mortal enemies. These lies were repeated endlessly on radio, in films, posters, and school textbooks until they became normalised. Jews, homosexuals, Roma, and other minorities were blamed for every problem, giving ordinary Germans someone to hate and making support for Hitler feel like self-defence. A full-blown personality cult was built around Hitler. He was portrayed as infallible, chosen by Providence itself. His portrait hung in every classroom and office; people were forced to greet each other with “Heil Hitler!” Even private criticism of Hitler could send a person to a concentration camp or result in death. The Gestapo, Hitler’s secret police, created an atmosphere of terror where no one dared speak openly. This constant bombardment of lies, combined with a perfectly choreographed system of fear, made people accept falsehood as truth. Monopoly over information, indoctrination of children, daily repetition of lies, and the cult of personality worked together to transform Germany into a nation that either actively supported or passively accepted the worst crimes in history. India today is passing through a frighteningly similar phase. Repeated lies from the Sangh Parivar, the BJP’s IT cell, and their captive media—coupled with monopoly over most news channels, the hijacking of investigative agencies, and the steady erosion of judicial independence—have created a perfect climate of fear. Large sections of the population have been indoctrinated with blatant falsehoods about Nehru and the Gandhi family (whose legacy is now carried forward by Nehru’s great-grandchildren). Freedom fighters are selectively appropriated or erased to suit the Sangh’s ideology. The RSS—an unregistered organisation that played no significant role in India’s freedom struggle—has been elevated through constant propaganda into the “true protector of the nation.” Meanwhile, Narendra Modi has been turned into a cult figure who supposedly descended to earth to save Hindus from “anti-national, Muslim-appeasing Congress and the Gandhis.” An erudite, sensitive statesman like Jawaharlal Nehru,who spent nearly 13 years in British jails for the cause of independence and built the nation from the scratch when British left the nation in penury,is today demonised as a womaniser and an idiot.Ironically,today, their current favourite object of vilification is his great-grandson Rahul Gandhi, who led a lone battle against the undemocratic ways of the government.However, the irony is obvious: while Nehru gifted properties worth around ₹1,200 crore to the nation, and his daughter Indira Gandhi donated Anand Bhawan—the ancestral home of the Nehru family, to the country, two Gujaratis very close to the two Gujaratis currently in power have been plundering the nation from all sides. Unfortunately, the public remains largely unaware of how thoroughly we are being taken for a ride with promises of “achhe din,” how deep corruption has seeped into every corner, and how intensely we have been degraded—morally, spiritually, and economically at a time when the IMF has reportedly graded our economy a “C” and most of our foreign reserves stand reduced. The media has been transformed into a shameless propaganda tool of the ruling party, while the judiciary, fearing the government, has failed to act.This is both a terrifying and extremely dangerous situation that threatens the very foundations of our democracy and our moral values. The parallels between current Indian govt with Nazi Germany are too obvious to notice: an autocratic regime can function even within a so-called democratic system. In India, the identified enemies are minorities (especially Muslims) and the Gandhi family. The public has been aggressively indoctrinated to believe that only Modi can save them from these “enemies.” Given India’s lingering feudal mindset, it becomes easier for those in power to intimidate citizens with money and muscle. The media is largely compromised, investigative agencies have become subservient, and even large sections of the judiciary appear afraid to act independently. The most painful question remains: How can 1.4 billion people be silenced like this? How can a handful of individuals in positions of power intimidate an entire nation? Why are even judges afraid of the government? It seems, sadly, that Indians are relatively easy to intimidate. We hesitate to question our leaders; we fail to ask the right questions at the right time. Many of us believe that staying passive and silently accepting our fate is the safest policy. But how long can this go on?

Mountain Mania

Himachal Pradesh always enchants me, so I didn’t think twice when I got the opportunity to visit a village near Kareri in Himachal Pradesh.Himachal Pradesh is lovely with its majestic mountains and lush greenery. I feel it is my second home, which calls to me wherever I am. I felt a kind of connection the very first day I set foot there. That feeling—a mix of joy, excitement, and mystery—is stirred by the foggy mountains, the unpredictable weather, and the lovely people, creating a perfect potpourri that draws one irresistibly to Himachal. It is a long walk through the mountains from the last bus stop to reach the place—remote but green. It is enveloped by thick, forested mountains, as if to guard the tiny village. I was literally exhausted after a one-hour mountain walk, while my co-walkers—mainly mountain boys—seemed as fresh as ever! I am familiar with the mountains around Dharamshala, but this area was far more remote and isolated from modern amenities. There was a wedding going on, and all the villagers had gathered at the bride’s place. I was warmly welcomed into my friend’s home, and they did everything possible to make me feel comfortable. It was a delight to see the row of traditional Himachali houses made of mud and wood. I barely felt cold inside the house, though it was cold outside. It is a typical village where mornings begin with men preparing for their daily chores—rearing cows and ploughing fields—while women cook roti (chapati) and aloo (potato) in the traditional oven. They display a great deal of hospitality and are as curious as many Indians; you will be welcomed into every home with sweet chai (tea). They live with limited resources; even a TV is a luxury for them. I was deeply moved by the innocence and love of those simple inhabitants, especially the lovely but shy girls. I think I have fallen in love with Himachal Pradesh—its mountains, apple trees, snow, and lovely inhabitants.

There were countless moments when the quiet, fierce kindness of the Himachalis wrapped around me like a warm blanket in the biting cold. One such moment came in late December in Dharamshala, when the sky unleashed a relentless snowfall. I was utterly unprepared. Power had vanished for over a week under the weight of the snow, and my electric stove was useless.I was left with no food, no heat, no hot water. Then came my neighbor, whose home I’d occasionally visit for evening chats over chai. Without a word of complaint, they began bringing me roti- subji and Rajma- chawl, enough to fill both my stomach and my heart. Every morning, they’d trudge through the snow with a bucket of hot water, just so I could have a warm shower. Their quiet generosity wasn’t announced—it was simply given, like the mountains give snow. In those frozen, silent nights, their kindness became my lifeline, a gentle reminder that even in the harshest winter, human warmth can melt the coldest fear. As Gandhiji said, “India lives in her villages.” Indian villages change very slowly; modernity is too shy to embrace them, and tradition and social norms still dictate the lives of villagers. And this is perhaps the real face of India among her many other faces

In the midst of Concrete jungle

I was thinking of Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels while walking through the streets of Hong Kong. Among its giant skyscrapers, I felt like a tiny, insect-sized Lilliputian who had jumped into Gulliver’s pockets—or rather, like the minuscule being trapped among the giant humans of Brobdingnag, for whom Gulliver’s microscopic size was a source of curiosity. I had hardly ever seen such a huge flock of skyscrapers in my life; literally, those buildings seemed to aim for the sky to kiss her. Hong Kong is probably synonymous with a concrete jungle. One can see modernity in every nook and corner of the city; it well deserves the name “international city of Asia” in every respect. Infrastructure-wise, the city is on par with any developed nation; besides, it has a very effective public transport system. But like many Asian cities, Hong Kong too is trapped in today’s mall culture; sadly, mushrooming malls are seen as symbols of modernity, though they are merely webs of consumerism. So it has all the trappings of a modern city: mad sales in shops that drive people desperately to consume, fake or original brands, crowds flocking to shops in the mad rush of consumerism—indeed, it is a shopper’s paradise. Even Christmas is commercialized in a way that has painfully departed from its spiritual aspects. I was surprised to see a band of singers at the airport when I landed on 25 December. It seemed you could hardly escape the song “Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells” wherever you went. Everything seems organized and orderly; even people walk on the streets in a certain manner, as if instructed to do so. I don’t know whether wealth and hospitality have any connection, but I found the people less friendly. They looked pretty reserved and stressed, as if prosperity had stolen away their smiles. But it was always nice to stroll through the city that had woken from the slumber of its colonial hangover. I roamed around different parts of the city, as it is well connected by metro and sky train. If you are a vegetarian, you have to control your taste buds to adapt to the meagre choices of food. But to my relief, I could find a few vegetarian restaurants, including Indian ones. The food I really enjoyed was a pasta from an organic restaurant called “Life.” The restaurant welcomes you with Gandhiji’s quote: “Be the change you want to see in the world.” The quiet walk through the forest in the interior part of the city was refreshingly inspiring—it was a jungle away from the concrete jungle. While journeying through the solitary, foggy path surrounded by trees, I regretted not being able to write like William Wordsworth. But I just repeated his verse to my heart’s delight: “To me the meanest flower that blows can give Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears.” Though I wanted to see a village in Hong Kong, the one I saw hardly resembled a village but looked like a little city. The renowned Ten Thousand Buddhas Monastery was quite disappointing with its plastic Buddha statues. It looked like a Disneyland of Buddha, arranged for tourism; it lacked both aestheticism and spiritual depth. But the giant Buddha statue at Po Lin Monastery was magnificent with its huge presence. This 26.4 m high statue is the world’s largest seated outdoor bronze Buddha. The islands around Hong Kong were quite interesting with their tropical forests and tranquil settings. I particularly enjoyed Lamma Island with its clean beaches and lush green landscape. Though considered part of China, Hong Kong enjoys much freedom, but not without restrictions. An old Malayalam film song goes like this: “Hey Hong Kong streets, you have opened the doors of heaven for us.” But I just wonder: do the doors of heaven and the doors of prosperity look the same?