When Power Turns on Faith: How a Political War Can Kill a Religion
When Power Turns on Faith: How a
Political War Can Kill a Religion
Can a religion that has existed
for thousands of years be destroyed not by its enemies, but by those who claim
to protect it? It is an uncomfortable question, but one that increasingly
demands attention.
Recent events in India suggest
that something fundamental is shifting within Sanatan Dharma. The current
government, led by the Bharatiya Janata Party, which openly champions Hindutva,
now finds itself in an open confrontation with prominent religious leaders of
Sanatan. Political figures who only months ago treated these saints as sacred
symbols of Hindu identity are now publicly questioning their authority,
legitimacy, and status.
When a BJP leader asks who “made”
someone a Shankaracharya, fully aware of how such religious positions are
traditionally established, the issue moves beyond political rhetoric. It raises
a deeper question about Sanatan itself. Is it still a religion grounded in
spiritual inquiry and pluralism, or is it being reshaped into a political
instrument designed to serve power?
Sanatan Dharma has survived for
centuries because it never demanded uniformity. It absorbed ideas rather than
erasing them. It debated rather than dictated. This is why India, shaped by
Sanatan thought for millennia, became home to multiple religions that lived
side by side without genocide carried out in the name of faith. Sanatan was not
a religion of conquest. It was a civilization of coexistence.
That is precisely why the current
confrontation is so dangerous.
What we are witnessing is not a
theological disagreement. It is a struggle for control. The irony is glaring.
The same political and religious forces that once stood united against previous
governments are now attacking each other in public, using religion as both
shield and weapon. Unity built on convenience has collapsed the moment power
was secured.
If Sanatan Dharma wears the
symbol of a political party, that day it dies as a religion.
Sanatan has never taught blind
loyalty to rulers. It teaches discernment. It teaches that leadership is judged
by conduct, wisdom, and outcomes, not by religious identity. That is why people
vote for leaders based on their agenda, not their religion. This principle is
not modern secularism imposed on Sanatan. It flows naturally from Sanatan’s
worldview, where faith guides personal ethics, not state authority.
History offers clear warnings.
When Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale rose to prominence, he did not merely assert
Sikh identity. He redefined what it meant to be “pure.” Faith narrowed.
Politics radicalized. Violence followed. Political parties that once encouraged
him rushed to distance themselves, not to protect religion, but to protect
themselves. The damage, however, was already done.
Globally, similar patterns
repeat. Islam attempted to distance itself from Osama bin Laden, yet in many
Islamic nations the separation between religion and governance remained
incomplete. Where the state governs through religious doctrine, faith becomes vulnerable
to extremism and political abuse.
India consciously chose a
different path.
On January 26, 1950, India
committed itself to governance through the Constitution of India, not through
religion. Faith was protected. Practice was free. But power was constrained by
law, not belief. This decision allowed Sanatan, Islam, Christianity, Sikhism,
Buddhism, and other traditions to flourish without being turned into
instruments of the state.
The push to elevate Hindutva into
a governing doctrine directly conflicts with that constitutional foundation.
And the BJP’s current war with Sanatan’s religious leaders exposes a deeper
contradiction. If Hindutva truly represented Sanatan Dharma, there would be no
need to undermine saints or question religious authority. Sanatan is
philosophical, adaptive, and plural. Hindutva is political, rigid, and
power-driven.
Even issues now framed as
absolute religious mandates reveal this distortion. The cow, for example, was
historically treated with care and respect, but it was never a political test
of loyalty. Dietary practices varied across regions and eras. Beef consumption
existed. Cow protection was ethical and cultural, not a weapon of governance.
Its transformation into a political symbol came later, shaped by mythology,
popular narratives, and electoral strategy.
When politics rewrites religion,
belief becomes ideology.
By attacking religious leaders,
the state weakens both religion and itself. Saints are forced into political
roles they were never meant to occupy. Politicians begin acting as arbiters of
faith. Religion loses moral authority. Politics loses legitimacy.
This is how religions die. Not
through external attack, but through internal corrosion.
Sanatan Dharma cannot survive as
a badge of political power. It survives as a way of understanding life, truth,
and coexistence. The day it becomes a campaign slogan or a party emblem, it
ceases to be Sanatan.
India’s strength has always come
from keeping faith larger than power, and politics smaller than belief.
Forgetting that lesson does not protect religion.
It destroys it.
Comments
Post a Comment