The political ascent of Hindutva in India cannot be fully understood as a mere electoral trend, cultural revivalism, or strategic mobilization of religious identity. It marks a deeper ontological shift in the very structure of Indian society—an alteration in how collective identity, political legitimacy, and social meaning are constituted. To grasp the full magnitude of this shift, one must move beyond the linear narratives of political history or the surface-level explanations of sociological causality. It requires a dialectical method that captures the contradictory motions underlying social systems—what Quantum Dialectics reveals as the dynamic interplay between cohesive and decohesive forces across layers of existence. From this perspective, the rise of Hindutva is not a historical anomaly or a sudden rupture; it is the emergent result of long-repressed contradictions embedded within the Indian social formation. On one side stands a deeply rooted yet fragile pluralism—linguistic, cultural, religious—that has historically functioned as a cohesive force, a field of superposed differences held in unstable equilibrium. On the other side, there exists a long arc of decohesion: caste hierarchies institutionalized as ontological inequality, colonial interventions that atomized communities through census and codification, and neoliberal policies that dismantled social solidarities in favor of market atomism. Hindutva does not originate in isolation; it crystallizes as a field-effect—an ontological condensation of these unresolved contradictions into a new political form. It absorbs the tensions of caste without resolving them, appropriates symbols of cultural unity while suppressing their diversity, and promises order in a world fragmented by global capitalism. Thus, Hindutva must be seen not as mere ideology, but as a dialectically emergent ontology—a distorted synthesis that temporarily resolves contradictions through exclusion, repression, and symbolic overcoding, rather than through transformative integration.
India’s civilizational history unfolds as a vast dialectical field—a space where multiple forces have intertwined, clashed, and evolved over millennia. At its foundational layer lies a powerful cohesive force, characterized by an ethos of unity-in-diversity. This was not a homogenizing unity, but a synthetic one, in which distinct languages, philosophies, religious traditions, and modes of life were woven into a richly pluralistic civilizational fabric. From the Vedic hymns to the Bhakti and Sufi movements, from the syncretic cultures of Mughal courts to the vernacular literatures of the regions, India historically embodied a superposed field of civilizational becoming—a coexistence of difference in dynamic tension. This integrative impulse acted as a stabilizing force, allowing for the emergence of a shared cultural consciousness despite immense internal diversity.
However, this cohesion was never absolute. Coexisting with it, and increasingly undermining it, was a decohesive force rooted in the ontological hierarchy of the varna-jati system. Unlike class, which reflects socio-economic positioning, caste became an ontological inscription—a metaphysical stratification of worth, labor, and purity embedded into the very body of social being. While religious diversity allowed for cultural synthesis, caste enforced structural separation, rendering impossible any full realization of egalitarian unity. Dharma, in this context, served both as a principle of cosmic order and as an ideological mask for asymmetry and oppression. Thus, Indian society was always split at its core—cohesive in its surface pluralism, but decoherent in its structural caste fragmentation.
British colonialism dramatically intensified this contradiction. Through the administrative machinery of census, law, education, and electoral representation, colonial rule froze the fluidity of Indian identity into rigid, bureaucratically codified forms. Castes became listed entities, religions became mutually exclusive categories, and communities that once interacted through overlapping solidarities were reorganized into communal blocks with essentialized identities. This was not a mere bureaucratic convenience—it was a mode of ontological intervention. In terms of Quantum Dialectics, it represented a forced decoherence of the Indian social field. The subcontinent’s quantum potentiality of overlapping and interpenetrating cultural waveforms collapsed into hard-edged particles—Hindu, Muslim, Sikh, Dalit, Forward Caste—prepared for manipulation, division, and eventual communal violence. The very field that had once accommodated multiplicity became saturated with rigid polarity.
The nationalist movement led by Gandhi, Nehru, and the Indian National Congress attempted to re-cohere this colonial decoherence. Their tools were the ideals of secularism, socialism, federalism, and composite nationalism. Gandhi mobilized a moral-spiritual unity, while Nehru invested in constitutional and institutional cohesion through a centralized developmental state. However, these efforts, while noble in intention, often bypassed the most fundamental contradiction of Indian society—the persistence of caste as ontological inequality. Gandhi’s emphasis on reform over annihilation, and Nehru’s abstraction of citizenship over embodied social realities, meant that caste was never confronted in its full structural violence. It was contained, displaced, or symbolically addressed, but not abolished. This failure created a deferred contradiction—one that would later re-emerge not as progressive revolution but as reactionary capture. The ground left unaddressed by secular nationalism became fertile soil for a new synthesis—not of liberation, but of domination through Hindutva. The ideological vacuum created by the partial success and structural limits of the nationalist project became the very space in which right-wing politics could grow—first in the margins, then at the center. The seeds of today’s majoritarianism were thus sown not only by its enemies, but also by the incomplete dialectic of its predecessors.
Hindutva, as envisioned by V.D. Savarkar, elaborated by M.S. Golwalkar, and institutionalized through the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) and its political wing, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), must be understood not merely as an ideological movement but as a reactionary ontological intervention into the Indian social field. While it presents itself as a project of national integration, cultural revival, and spiritual unity, its actual function—when viewed through the lens of Quantum Dialectics—is quite the opposite. Hindutva operates as a decohesive force masked in the rhetoric of cohesion. It does not accommodate India’s cultural multiplicity; it seeks to overwrite it by forcibly collapsing a superposition of identities, languages, traditions, and cosmologies into a singular majoritarian identity—the “Hindu Rashtra.” This is not a synthesis born of mutual recognition and dialectical unfolding. It is an imposed coherence, a field-collapse driven by exclusion and ontological violence.
In quantum dialectical terms, Hindutva represents a forced coherence—an artificial compression of social potentialities into a rigid identity structure. It negates the dialectical possibility of harmonious contradiction by eliminating contradictions altogether. Muslims are not engaged but vilified; Christians are not integrated but distrusted; Dalits are selectively co-opted into ritualized nationalism without dismantling caste; leftists and dissenters are framed as internal enemies. In this ontological regime, the field of “Bharat” is purified not by dialectical synthesis, but by ontological erasure. The field narrows as the waveform of pluralism collapses into a majoritarian particle—an identity-state sustained through myth, surveillance, spectacle, and fear. This is not cultural affirmation, but epistemic reduction—a truncation of India’s civilizational superposition into a dangerously compressed monoculture.
This compression, however, is not accidental—it arises as the symptomatic expression of a deeper systemic contradiction. In the post-liberalization era, India’s economic order has undergone rapid neoliberal transformation. Market deregulation, privatization, and globalization have structurally disempowered the working class, displaced rural communities, and rendered youth into precarious labor pools with shrinking futures. Traditional solidarities of labor, village, and class have been atomized. The decohesion of economic life under neoliberalism has created a vacuum of meaning, belonging, and identity. In this vacuum, Hindutva steps in—not with redistribution, but with mythological re-coherence. It offers symbolic unity where there is no material emancipation, ritualized empowerment where there is no socio-economic justice. It replaces class consciousness with civilizational narcissism, social justice with performative patriotism. It converts the mass anxiety of the precarious into a weapon of majoritarian aggression.
In this sense, Hindutva is not simply an Indian version of fascism. It is the neoliberal crisis reorganized through mytho-national coding. It takes the raw material of social fragmentation and reassembles it into a false whole—a “new India” that is ontologically unified only through exclusion, fear, and performance. It is not merely authoritarianism—it is reactionary ontology, a collapsing field held together not by dialectical movement but by forced stasis. And like all systems that resist contradiction, it is inherently unstable. What it postpones through repression, it will ultimately face through explosion. The dialectic cannot be cancelled—only delayed.
Quantum Dialectics reveals a fundamental law of social and material systems: decohesive potentials—once generated—do not simply dissipate. They persist as unresolved tensions, seeking expression through new channels of becoming. If progressive forces fail to sublate these contradictions into liberatory synthesis, they do not vanish; rather, they become susceptible to reactionary capture. This is precisely the mechanism through which Hindutva has risen—not as a spontaneous mass movement, but as a strategic redirection of social negations. It feeds on the energies of deprivation, marginalization, and alienation, but rearticulates them through the symbolic logic of majoritarian nationalism, thereby preventing their transformation into revolutionary force.
Take, for instance, the mobilization of Dalits, OBCs, and Adivasis—groups historically excluded from the core of Brahmanical Hinduism. Instead of confronting and dismantling caste structures, Hindutva offers these communities tokenistic inclusion into the symbolic body of the Hindu Rashtra. Through controlled representation in the party machinery, mythological reinterpretations, and selective celebration of anti-Muslim Dalit icons, these oppressed castes are absorbed without empowerment. Their energies, born from centuries of negation, are rerouted not toward caste annihilation, but toward the consolidation of upper-caste hegemony in a new national form. This is ontological camouflage: the pain of exclusion is not healed, but made useful to the regime.
The youth of India, particularly those facing joblessness, underemployment, and digital precarity, represent another massive decohesive force in the social field. Neoliberal reforms, automation, and educational privatization have stripped millions of young people of economic hope and social stability. In place of material futures, Hindutva provides ritualized belonging—through mass rallies, online propaganda, hyper-nationalist cinema, and the performance of vigilante masculinity. Youth alienation is not addressed, but absorbed into the spectacle of rage, where the “enemy” is not capital or caste, but the imagined traitor: the Muslim, the leftist, the feminist, the intellectual. Instead of organizing for justice, the youth are mobilized for identity—a substitution of ontology for revolution.
Even women, long oppressed at the intersection of patriarchy and capitalism, are not untouched by this strategy. Hindutva offers them moral elevation and symbolic power, particularly through narratives of honor, purity, and protection. Campaigns like Love Jihad, ritualized roles in religious events, and the language of motherhood in politics all reframe women’s oppression as a site of superiority over “Others.” By displacing gender emancipation into cultural nationalism, Hindutva secures patriarchal structures while offering women a reactive agency—an illusion of empowerment that leaves structural subjugation intact.
In all these cases, the dialectical truth remains: this is not genuine cohesion, nor is it transformative synthesis. What Hindutva offers is a reactionary synergy—a temporary stabilization of deep contradictions by redirecting their energy into symbolic forms. This stabilization is not sustainable. It does not resolve contradictions; it suspends them in illusion. It is a field-effect of imposed coherence—a bubble of order built on the deferred explosion of negation. And when this bubble bursts, the contradictions it concealed will return—not as questions, but as historical demands.
Secularism in India, as it evolved after independence, functioned not as the strict separation of religion and state—as in the Western liberal tradition—but rather as a dialectical superposition of plural identities. It was built on the recognition that India’s immense diversity—religious, linguistic, cultural, and regional—could not be homogenized without collapse. Instead, the Indian state sought to balance cohesion and difference through a constitutional ethos of sarva dharma sambhava (equal respect for all religions), federal decentralization, linguistic recognition, and policies of affirmative action aimed at social justice. This fragile architecture created a unique and unstable quantum field of coexistence, where identities were not erased but suspended in dynamic equilibrium, allowing a diverse nation to function without devolving into communal fragmentation. Yet, like any superposition, it required continuous dialectical motion to sustain its coherence—and herein lay its vulnerability.
The post-independence Congress system, which dominated Indian politics for decades, attempted to maintain this equilibrium. However, it relied heavily on symbolic cohesion—national integration through patriotic rituals, developmental slogans, and elite-driven pluralism—while avoiding direct confrontation with India’s foundational contradictions: caste exploitation, class inequality, and religious stratification. This evasion of structural antagonisms allowed the party to manage pluralism, but not transform it into substantive justice. The absence of dialectical struggle meant that contradictions accumulated beneath the surface. The Congress model did not sublate contradictions; it deferred them, leaving the wounds of caste hierarchy, feudal remnants, and capitalist dispossession untreated. Beneath its appearance of unity, the system hollowed itself from within.
Meanwhile, the Left parties, particularly the CPI and CPI(M), emphasized class struggle and the critique of capital, offering a more radical vision of transformation. However, their focus on economic determinism often led them to underplay the specificity of caste oppression and the emotional-symbolic dimensions of cultural identity. In many cases, their critique of communalism lacked a parallel critique of Brahmanism. As a result, the Left failed to gain long-term footholds among Dalits, Adivasis, and many backward castes, whose lived realities required a synthesis of both economic and social liberation. By treating caste as an epiphenomenon of class rather than an ontological structure in its own right, the Left inadvertently ceded ground to forces that offered symbolic representation without economic change—a gap which Hindutva later exploited with ruthless efficiency.
In the 1990s, identity politics emerged in the form of Dalit assertion, backward caste mobilization, and regional self-respect movements. These were partial decoherences within the secular field—moments of necessary rupture that gave voice to the historically excluded. Yet, these assertions often remained trapped within their own fragmentation, unable to forge a new totality that could synthesize identity, class, and community into a transformative unity. The political landscape became a constellation of grievances rather than a revolutionary front. The quantum superposition of Indian secularism began to collapse—not due to its enemies, but due to its own internal incoherence and the inability of its actors to recompose it dialectically.
It was into this ontological vacuum that Hindutva entered—not as an alien invader, but as a quantum attractor. In the absence of structural coherence, it offered symbolic coherence. In place of plural contradictions, it offered a singular mythos: the Hindu Rashtra. Its appeal did not lie in theological rigor or even coherent ideology, but in its ability to collapse uncertainty into certainty, ambiguity into identity, and historical complexity into mythic clarity. The rise of Hindutva, therefore, is not a mass delusion or spontaneous fanaticism—it is a symptom of ontological exhaustion. It expresses a society fatigued by unresolved contradictions, desperately seeking stability in the ruins of secular meaning. Hindutva’s success lies in its ability to simulate order, not create justice; to perform unity, not resolve contradiction. But as with any system that suppresses contradiction rather than dialectically resolving it, its apparent coherence is temporary—a brittle shell awaiting rupture.
What, then, is to be done in the face of Hindutva’s ontological capture of the Indian social field? The answer does not lie in the familiar liberal strategies of institutional critique, moral condemnation, or appeals to an abstract secularism that has already lost its historical vitality. These responses, though well-intentioned, fail to address the deeper dialectical processes at play. They attempt to negate Hindutva without understanding the field that gave rise to it. In the framework of Quantum Dialectics, the true counterforce to Hindutva must arise not from reactive opposition, but from the construction of a new ontological superposition—a transformative reconstitution of the Indian political field that resolves contradictions through higher synthesis, not suppression.
The first imperative is to dialectically fuse class struggle with caste annihilation—not as two parallel movements running on separate tracks, but as entangled contradictions co-producing the Indian social structure. Caste is not merely a cultural residue; it is a mode of production, reproduction, and domination intertwined with capital. Similarly, class exploitation in India is almost always mediated by caste positioning. Liberation politics must therefore reject both economistic reductionism and identitarian isolationism. It must formulate a new revolutionary praxis where the working-class Dalit, the landless Adivasi, the exploited OBC, and the precarious urban laborer are not fragmented, but integrated as dialectical agents of a unified struggle—each node reflecting the total contradiction, not merely its part.
Secondly, the reconstruction must unite scientific reason with cultural resonance. For too long, Enlightenment rationality has been wielded in India as a colonial weapon of cultural dismissal, alienating the masses from their own symbolic universes. In reaction, Hindutva offers nativist revivalism—a false cultural comfort built on mythologized history and authoritarian nostalgia. The dialectical task is to sublate both extremes: to reclaim science not as a tool of domination, but as a method of liberation; and to reclaim tradition not as frozen custom, but as living heritage open to transformation. A true people’s science must speak in the idiom of the people without surrendering to irrationalism, and a revolutionary culture must draw from memory without becoming myth. This synthesis can give rise to a dialectical pedagogy capable of awakening both critical thought and emotional rootedness.
Third, liberation requires a subaltern unity beyond electoral arithmetic—a unity not constructed through opportunistic coalitions, but through shared lived experience and revolutionary imagination. Identity-based mobilizations, while vital in asserting recognition, must evolve into coalitional ontologies—superposed movements that do not compete for recognition but converge toward collective transformation. The fragmented struggles of Dalits, Muslims, Adivasis, workers, farmers, and women must become resonant waveforms in a common field of becoming. This requires not only political coordination, but epistemic transformation—a unifying vision that allows each contradiction to express itself without erasing the others. Only such a unity can counter the false totality of Hindutva with a genuinely plural and emancipatory totality.
Quantum Dialectics teaches us that no system—however powerful, violent, or seemingly stable—is eternal. Every field of force contains within it the seeds of its own negation and sublation. The very strategy that Hindutva uses to stabilize the Indian field—exaggerating coherence, silencing dissent, flattening multiplicity—is also its weakness. By suppressing contradiction, it creates unsustainable tension. By simulating unity, it alienates real plurality. By appropriating identities without transforming structures, it builds a brittle order—a supercooled system on the verge of explosive change. The path of liberation lies in recognizing this overcharged condition not as defeat, but as opportunity. As dialecticians of history, we must not fear contradiction—we must intensify it toward synthesis. Let us then not merely resist Hindutva. Let us render it obsolete. Let us build a new ontological field—where justice, plurality, and reason resonate in quantum harmony, and where the future is not dictated by fear, but composed by freedom.
The rise of Hindutva represents not a triumphant civilizational resurgence, but a reactionary simulation of stability—a desperate metaphysical maneuver by a decaying caste-capitalist order to delay its inevitable unraveling. In the face of mounting structural crises—economic stagnation, mass unemployment, ecological collapse, caste injustice, and the failure of liberal-secular governance—Hindutva offers not resolution, but illusion. It manufactures coherence through mythic nationalism, constructs enemies to displace internal contradictions, and replaces dialectical politics with ritualized performances of identity. This is not a sustainable transformation, but a false equilibrium, a brittle ontology held together by repression, surveillance, and symbolic overcoding. Like all systems that rely on suppression rather than synthesis, it cannot endure. The contradictions it buries are not neutralized—they are merely compressed. And in time, they will return—not as silent murmurs, but as ruptures, refusals, and revolutions.
Viewed through the lens of Quantum Dialectics, the struggle unfolding in India today is not simply a clash between religious communities, as both liberal and communal narratives often suggest. It is far deeper—it is an ontological conflict, a battle over the very structure of reality as socially experienced and historically produced. On one side stands the ontology of static identity: rigid, exclusionary, hierarchical, and defined by mythic pasts and purity codes. This is the Hindutva regime’s mode of being—a forced coherence that seeks to halt time, erase contradiction, and freeze the flux of becoming. On the other side stands the ontology of dialectical emergence: a dynamic, plural, and conflictual mode of existence in which identities evolve, contradictions are confronted, and society transforms through struggle. This is the space of revolution—not merely political insurrection, but ontological reformation.
Thus, the true stakes of the current historical moment are not limited to electoral wins or institutional reforms—they concern the very ground of being upon which Indian society stands. Hindutva represents the last metaphysical defense of a Brahmanical-corporate hegemony that has exhausted its moral and material legitimacy. It is the final crystallization of caste and capital into myth, a ghost-ontology attempting to possess the future by embalming the past. But the future cannot be embalmed. The decohered energies of the subaltern—Dalits, Adivasis, Muslims, workers, women, youth—will eventually reassemble into a new superposition, a revolutionary field of becoming that sublates the false totality of Hindutva. The field is already vibrating. The contradictions are intensifying. The quantum rupture is coming.
Let us, then, see clearly: we are not fighting a religion, but a regime of being. And we are not merely resisting—it is reality itself that is reorganizing. In this unfolding dialectic, our task is not only to critique, but to co-create the new ontology—a living system of justice, multiplicity, and becoming. That is the real revolution.
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