When Old DemonsCome Marching In

Fernandes embarks on her journey into the heart of Indian fundamentalism with a peculiarly shallow version of liberal sympathies. Show that you are even-handed by exposing fundamentalists of all religions: assorted Muslims ranging from Deobandis to the Imam of Jama Masjid; Christians in Goa clinging on to a Goan identity, to Baptists in Nagaland trying to create new ones, assorted survivors amongst Kashmiri Pandits and victims of anti-Sikh riots. Add a few second-hand remarks on the violence in Gujarat and a rather hysterical account of Indo-Pak relations, and the heart of Indian fundamentalism stands exposed. The narrative that emerges from these ragtag interviews is profoundly confused. In one instant, Deoband becomes the harbinger of Taliban, in another it is just a bunch of defenceless youth, confused and discriminated against by Indian society. In one moment India is paranoid about terrorism yet it seems far more restrained in its response than the level of paranoia would suggest. Sometimes Indian society seems to overflow with religious zealotry, at other times we can retreat into the comfortable illusion that religion is an epiphenomenon; it is really all about employment and jobs. This claim is comforting to both fundamentalists and liberals: it is a way some fundamentalists can deny they really are so; and liberals can assert that they really understand what is going on. If the jobs-and-employment argument doesn’t work, add in a few sentences about how profoundly confusing modernity is, how fundamentalism provides a stable anchoring in an uncertain world. When all fails, toss in the oppression of the modern Indian state and the discrimination of majoritarian politics. All these are plausible background conditions under which fundamentalism flourishes, but they raise more questions than they answer. Why is there such variation in response to these challenges? And why is the quest for jobs and dignity expressed via religion? The very phenomenon the book sets out to study is not explained, but dissolved. Of course, reality is contradictory and confusing, but what could be more cliched than this claim?

This book suffers from an acute lack of historical depth and psychological sophistication. The potted history of Deoband borders on the simple-minded, the discussion of Hindutva is long on cliche, short on political judgement and the analysis of particular episodes misses the woods for the trees. And there is the methodological fallacy of thinking we can understand fundamentalists by studying fundamentalists alone. This leaves the relationship between fundamentalism and the wider context unclear; and it is premised on binaries like secular and religious, fanatical and moderate that do not adequately map reality. Most of the interviews are unrevealing. But the narrative does have occasional moments. The Imam of Jama Masjid rather disingenuously portrays himself and Muslims around the world as being framed; there is a curious externalisation of the challenges Muslims face, not a moment of self-reflection. There is a rather poignant interview with Mario Miranda, lamenting the loss of Goan identity under the influx of outsiders; there is K.P.S. Gill wrestling with the dilemmas he faced in Punjab.

Still, the book might be worth a quick read. If nothing else, it can help dissipate the fog of complacency that marks our current attitudes towards minorities. The insurgency in Punjab may be dead, but the scars of the violence there and the riots in Delhi still run deep. Muslims are sandwiched between the hostility of their enemies, indifference and the patronising attitude of their friends. As Fernandes says, "it is India’s duty to recognise that tolerating Muslim disengagement is like witlessly listening to a ticking bomb and not expecting to hear a big bang". A sombre warning.