Biswa

Rajdeep Sardesai’s latest sermon on India’s need for an ‘Abdul El-Sayed moment’ is a perfect example of the intellectual dishonesty that passes for political commentary in this country. First, he posts that India needs a politician whose faith doesn’t matter and whose politics is about building bridges between communities. When challenged, he comes back with an explanation even more problematic, hollow and bereft of evidence. He now argues that India needs Muslim politicians elected from Hindu-majority constituencies, claims the reverse is equally rare, complains about the absence of Muslim MPs in the BJP and a Muslim Union Cabinet minister, and insists that India needs an American-style cross-community electoral coalition. A few inconvenient realities for him. In the 2024 Lok Sabha elections, 24 Muslim MPs were elected. Around 10 of them won from constituencies where Muslims were not the majority. Afzal Ansari won from Ghazipur, where Muslims constitute roughly 10% of the population. Navaskani, from the so-called Indian Union Muslim League, won from Ramanathapuram, where Muslims account for just 11.84% of the population. Think about this for a moment. A party that chooses to carry the Muslim League name, despite the League’s violent role in the Partition of India, can contest an election in this country and even win from a constituency where nearly 88% of the population is non-Muslim. This reflects a degree of electoral accommodation that only Hindus can demonstrate. Now look at the other side. The 2024 Lok Sabha had 14 constituencies with a Muslim population of at least 50%. Muslim candidates won all 14. Not a single Hindu MP was elected from a Muslim-majority constituency. So, yes, Hindu-majority electorates have repeatedly elected Muslim representatives. BUT MUSLIMS HAVE NOT. This is precisely the question Rajdeep would rather brush aside with a vague assertion that the reverse is also true. Second, why is the absence of Muslim BJP MPs being presented as proof of India’s failure? Rajdeep points out that the BJP has no Muslim MP and the Union Cabinet has no Muslim minister. But how many Muslim politicians are willing to contest on a BJP ticket without risking being branded a kafir by their own community? And how many would be willing to openly associate themselves with the party without facing that kind of religious denunciation? These are questions he conveniently leaves out. And even if a Muslim candidate were to win on a BJP ticket from a Hindu-majority constituency, would people like Rajdeep accept that as genuine cross-community electoral accommodation? Or would they question whether that candidate was elected or selected? Third, comparing India to America while discussing religious representation is perhaps the most fundamental flaw in his argument. India is not America. Our histories are entirely different. India was partitioned following a violent Islamist separatist movement rooted in the Two-Nation Theory. The demand was not simply that Hindus and Muslims were separate nations. It was that Indian Muslims needed a separate political homeland because they could not accept being governed by a Hindu-majority electorate. That history cannot be erased from any serious discussion of religion and politics in the subcontinent. So we must discuss the electoral behaviour and political realities of subcontinental Muslims across India, Pakistan and Bangladesh. Nobody is suggesting that India should emulate either country. But our shared history and religious politics make these comparisons very relevant. In Pakistan, the discrimination goes even beyond electoral behaviour. Its Constitution explicitly bars non-Muslims from becoming President or Prime Minister. Speaks volumes about the mindset of subcontinental Muslims. Why is Hindu willingness to elect Muslims routinely celebrated as evidence of secularism, while the reluctance of Muslim-majority electorates to elect Hindus is hardly discussed?