Assam CM Himanta Biswa Sharma said recently that he will not let ‘Miya’ Muslims take over his state. Meanwhile, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan are taking strong steps to prevent the rise of radical Islam — no hijab, no long beards, say authorities who distinguish religion from culture. Hungary and Poland are making strict policies preventing immigration of, and for even deporting, Muslims from third world countries. This has brought the issue of immigration and multiculturalism to the spotlight once again.
We confuse inclusion with equality. Nature is diverse. But neither inclusive nor egalitarian. Every plant species fights for survival, rejecting invaders, rivals and parasites. As humans, we can include everyone, if we are mature enough. But maturity is a struggle. Most of us want to be part of a herd, a pack, a hive, including those who make us feel safe, and excluding all threats.
Today ‘inclusion’ has become a great ideology. If you oppose it, you are branded ‘fascist’. This totalitarian idea emerges from the usual suspects: the West, European and American academies. Everyone was expected to think one way — their way. In the early 20th century, if you were not Capitalist, you were Communist. Before that, if you were not a church-goer, you were a pagan witch! The Western world is based on the idea of one truth, one book, one ideology, which they propagate as ‘universals’. This irritates the rest of the world.
China, for example, has always favoured isolationism. This great civilisation was literally built behind great walls meant to keep foreigners out. Now, they have the Fire Wall.
India followed a very different model. No walls, no books. But there were borders, hierarchies, gods, based on ideas, always fluid, fiercely negotiated. For example, there were many, many schools of Nikaya and Mahayana and Tantrik Buddhism in India. It was only 19th century European philologists who introduced the idea of one true historical Buddha. Notice how the Jain faith has over 30 sects, none of which fight and kill each other the way Christian (Catholic-Protestant) and Muslim (Shia-Sunni) sects have behaved over the centuries. Inclusion, in India, is about collaborating with difference, not homogenising.
Different Hinduisms emerged in different parts of India. Assamese Hinduism is therefore very different from Gujarati Hinduism. Thought leaders were not all Brahmins; they were landowners, scribes, accountants, warriors, weavers, cobblers, butchers, moneylenders. These many Hinduisms were interconnected through busy trade routes, annual fairs and gatherings. Here pilgrims, traders, kings and monks met and exchanged ideas. This united the diverse geographies, created overlaps, established common, dominant themes.
Later Brahmins, who served emperors and kings, theorised all these local gods were part of a common cosmic divine, either Hara (Shiva) or Hari (Vishnu), or even the formless param-atma, as per demands of the court. They theorised the ‘varna-ashrama’ framework, creating categories that controlled ritual, land, markets, and services.
Not all communities (jati) had the same status – some had more wealth, some more power, and some were even seen as dirty, unworthy of touch. Thus, inequality existed. Not consciously instituted, but accepted, as the norm. It was inclusive, diverse and collaborative but not egalitarian. Wisdom (atma-gyan), it was hoped, would ensure transfer of wealth and power and dignity from ‘higher’ to ‘lower’ groups. When Islam arrived, it was one more tribe in this collaborative ecosystem. The Muslim weaver was very different from the Muslim ruler though — united by faith, they were divided by caste (jati).
Mughal success is linked to their collaboration with Rajputs. Rajput princesses became part of Mughal households. But Rajput kings remained firmly Hindu. The same success was seen in the interactions between Jain bankers and Muslim Sultans. There was professional collaboration but household separation. No inter-marriage. No shared kitchens. This roti-beti (breaddaughter) model, which forms the basis of jati, ironically enabled separation of state and church, long before it was proposed by the West.
When Parsis sought refuge in India, the local Hindu king feared contamination and trouble. He placed a full pot of milk before them saying he had no place. The Parsis put sugar in the milk — promising to add value, not threaten the milk. They did not put lemon juice that would curdle the milk.
This give-and-take is missing in the modern migratory world. The ‘woke’ who wants immigrants to be welcomed with open arms is clueless on how to deal with the Muslim immigrant who, after becoming a citizen, insists that rejecting homosexuality is religious freedom. The ‘fascist’ violently opposes immigration to protect the purity of his school, but then wonders who does that janitor’s job in his palace.
We confuse diversity and inclusion with equality. Diverse communities are rivals. They compete unless they complement each other. Immigrants are invited to do jobs locals will not do — the menial low-paying tasks that need to be outsourced. Problem starts when the child of the immigrant becomes an equal in court and demands changes in the way the village is run. The new spice will change the old masala, as Hindus have always known. Policy cannot change prejudice. Only wisdom will.
