civilizational politics – Brown Pundits

The Honey Trap of the Ummah:

🕌 Reflections on Kabir, Afridi, and the Compact of Coexistence

The recent incident involving Kabir / Bombay Badshah / Honey Singh, and the orchestrated drama around his entrapment has, quite unexpectedly, become a catalyst for deeper discussion on Brown Pundits. While none have chosen to focus on analytics (“2,000 daily visitors”—thank you very much:-), the real story lies in how this drama has exposed, yet again, the deep ideological fissures within South Asian identity; especially in the India-Pakistan-Muslim triad.

Let’s begin by being honest: Brown Pundits, for all its digressions into Sri Lanka, Nepal, or Bangladesh, is still primarily a blog about India and Pakistan, and more crucially, about Indian and Pakistani Muslims. This is a feature, not a bug. The origins of the blog lie in the Sepia Mutiny, a scattered band of intellectually independent thinkers questioning dogma from every direction (which started in 2004 and if we are a “daughter blog” that we means have 20+yrs of intellectual antecedents on the Brownet), and it has now matured into one of the few platforms willing to wrestle with the ideological ambiguities at the heart of the subcontinent.

🧕 Kabir’s Point: Brotherhood, Boundaries, and the Big Choice

Kabir made an astute, if difficult, observation: that he views Indian Muslims as “brothers”, but does not feel the same about Pakistani non-Muslims.

This sounds contradictory until one understands the emotional exhaustion of watching Muslims oscillate between claiming ummah-hood when convenient, and weaponizing liberal values when needed. It’s a cognitive dissonance that creates what I can only call the moral coexistence trap: the idea that Muslims, especially in India, demand maximum accommodation, of their food (their nauseating right to murder Gau Mata on Bharat’s sacred soil itself), Faith, festivals, and foreign affiliations, while rarely extending the same pluralistic courtesy in return.

And then there’s that infamous Shahid Afridi clip, the one where he smashed his television after watching an Aarti, being performed. To many of us, that wasn’t just a cringe-inducing moment of bigotry; it begged a real question: Why do Indian cricketers continue to shake hands with Hinduphobes Hindu-hating men like Afridi and his ilk (the Pakistan cricket team)? At what point does tolerance become indulgence?

🚩 The Compact of Indian Minorities: Understand It or Leave It

Continue reading The Honey Trap of the Ummah:

Trump Has Birthed Eurasia

I’ve been busy, but I can’t shake the feeling that we’re living through the beginning of a new world.

It was acute with the SCO summit; not just through the headlines, but the atmospherics. The handshakes, the body language, the ease. It’s the kind of thing that barely registered in Western media, but Modi’s presence, standing shoulder to shoulder with Xi, Putin, and Pezeshkian, felt like the curtain rising on a new geopolitical epoch.

And at the center of it all? Donald J. Trump. Not by design, of course. But by consequence.

🔥 The Modi Factor Continue reading Trump Has Birthed Eurasia

Dead Poets of Pakistan

After Kabir exited the WhatsApp group, the conversation between the Manavs and Furqan (who I have made Editor to encourage more DPPs) drifted, inevitably, to poetry and Punjabi. Furqan has already made two excellent contributions, A flying peacock and Lord Ganesh in a confectionary mill. Kabir did a great job in diversifying the Authorial voices on BP.

As we shape the future of Brown Pundits, I keep returning to one submerged voice in the Persianate world, particularly in Pakistan. A voice that is Westernised, undercapitalised, and culturally adrift. These are not the clerics, generals, or capitalists. These are the middle-gentry, the in-betweeners; fluent in English, wired to the internet, but uncoupled from patronage and power.

Like much of the Muslim world, Pakistan remains profoundly hierarchical. And I suspect its creative pulse, its latent genius, lies in that Westernised fringe of the lower elite: the zone between the bourgeoisie and the establishment. The boundary class. Half-in, half-out.

In a strange way, Pakistan’s obscurity may be its shield. Unlike India, an excavated society with every civilizational layer being rapidly monetised (Saiyaara is breaking records), Pakistan is a half-formed splinter. It doesn’t face the same pressures of internal reckoning. That may be a blessing.

Across the Persianate world, from Anatolia to Delhi, we are witnessing a civilizational scatter. The old cosmopolis of the Gunpowder Empires (Ottoman, Safavid, Mughal) has collapsed, leaving behind cultural debris. The Persianate polity, once a unified Empire of the Mind, is now a broken archipelago.

India, by contrast, benefits from its post-colonial majority. Like Israel, it is 80% one faith; with all the confidence and coherence that brings. It has the numbers, the market, and a dominant civilizational script. The Sanskrit world, if not unified, is at least centrally anchored.

In this context, Kabir represents one pole of the Pakistani elite: articulate, English-speaking, confidently liberal but also capable of drowning out the marginal voices he’s adjacent to. And yet sadly, I don’t think Pakistan is headed for any Hindufication. The trajectory is different.

Pakistan is not returning to India. It is, perhaps, becoming the lowlands of the Iranian plateau; a bridge nation once again, neither fully Arab nor Indic. Suspended between worlds, it may rediscover itself in that liminality.

Because sometimes, the dead poets are not gone. They’re just waiting for the right silence.

Why Pakistan Is a Colonial Project & India a Civilizational One

Over the past few months, I’ve noticed a marked improvement in the quality of conversation on BP. A large part of this, I suspect, is due to eliminating trigger-response dynamics; as seen when I barred Q on a technicality. It created space: suddenly, the commentariat was thinking, not reacting. In that quiet, something became obvious.

Whenever Kabir invokes “neutral experts,” they always seem to be Western, usually venerably white, often from institutions directly involved in the colonial rape of India. And yet these same voices are elevated as if they were impartial or above it all. They aren’t. They are the architects, not the observers. This is the paradox at the heart of Pakistan. Continue reading Why Pakistan Is a Colonial Project & India a Civilizational One

Borders, Blind Spots, and the Mirror Game of South Asia

A recurring tension in South Asian discourse is the question of consistency: how states interpret borders, secession, and sovereignty; not in principle, but in practice.

Liberalstan’s case is that India acted selectively in 1947: Junagadh saw a plebiscite, Hyderabad faced military action, and Kashmir was referred to the UN. From this perspective, India chose whichever method suited its interests in each case. To Liberalstan, this isn’t pragmatism, it’s hypocrisy. The charge: if self-determination wasn’t good for Kashmir, why should it be for Balochistan? And what of Sikkim, Goa, Pondicherry, Khalistan, Nagaland, or the Naxalites?

Hindustan’s reply is rooted in realpolitik: decisions were shaped by demography, geography, and threats; not abstract norms. Q.E.A. Jinnah’s attempt to absorb Junagadh and court Jodhpur are seen as deliberate provocations, since Junagadh was Hindu-majority, non-contiguous, and largely symbolic (home to Somnath). After that, New Delhi abandoned any illusions of standard rules. From Hindustan’s view, Liberalstan’s moral framing is not only naïve but deeply asymmetrical; ignoring 1947, 1965, Kargil, Mumbai, and the long shadow of Pakistan’s own interventions.

When it comes to Balochistan, Hindustan notes its accession was closer to annexation, comparable to Nepal or Bhutan vanishing into India. Three major insurgencies since the 1960s complicate the narrative of “finality.” But here, Liberalstanflips the script: what is labeled a disputed territory in Kashmir is declared settled in Balochistan. This inversion doesn’t go unnoticed.

In truth, both sides are mirrors. Each demands flexibility for itself and finality for the other. Each invokes “consent”selectively; whether that of a prince, a people, or a state. The tragedy, perhaps, isn’t inconsistency but the absence of a shared regional framework for self-determination. One not held hostage by grievance, revenge, or exception.

Until then, accusations of hypocrisy will persist, each side fluent in the other’s blind spots.

If You Have a Side, You Don’t Care for the Other Side

In a world increasingly defined by sides, partisanship often masquerades as empathy. Whether it’s Pakistanis performing concern for Indian liberalism, or Indians invoking the plight of Muslim minorities to score points against their ideological rivals, the truth is simple: if you already have a side, you’re not truly invested in the fate of the other.

This isn’t cynicism; it’s structure. Sides, by their nature, demand loyalty. And loyalty comes at the expense of dispassion. You can mourn injustice selectively, but don’t pretend it’s universalism. More often than not, tribalism puts on the mask of principle.

As a Bahá’í, I’ve been shaped by a millenarian vision that urges global unity; yet I’m also deeply influenced by Hindu pluralism and pagan elasticity. Nicholas Nassim Taleb once said the more pagan a mind, the more brilliant it might be (excellent article) because it can hold many contradictions without demanding resolution. That capaciousness allows one to see that not every question needs a single answer. Hinduism, with its deep pluralism, contrasts radically with Islam’s (and Judaism’s) uncompromising monotheism. And yet, these two traditions are bound together—enmeshed across centuries of history, thought, and blood. Their tension is real, but so is their shared life.

That’s the point: opposites don’t just coexist, they form a whole. But when we prescribe change for the “other side,” we ignore our own capacity for reform. It’s always easier to critique outward than to renovate inward. Especially in a world run by oligarchic elites and managed emotions, where empathy is choreographed and outrage monetized.

So no, the Dalit Muslims of Dharavi aren’t the problem. Nor are the marginalized Hindus of East UP and Biharis. The problem is that a single family can build a private skyscraper in Mumbai while the city gasps beneath it. It’s the system that rewards power accumulation, not its occasional victims, that should concern us.

I don’t offer neat solutions. Maybe it’s taxation. Maybe it’s redistribution. Maybe it’s noblesse oblige. But the first step is this: stop pretending your critique of the other side is altruism. It’s not. It’s strategy. And perhaps the more honest work begins at home—with your own side, your own people, your own self.

Let Hindus Decide for India

There’s a quiet but persistent coalition, inside and outside India, that seems intent on denying Hindus the right to define their own future. It includes unreformed Islamists who refuse to reckon with modernity, English-speaking liberal elites still shadowboxing for Nehru, minorities with veto power but no stake in cohesion, and a chorus of Western (and increasingly Chinese) voices, eager to manage India’s trajectory from afar. What unites them? A shared discomfort with Hindu political consolidation.

Let’s be clear: Hindu identity is not a new construct. Whether you place its roots 3,000 or 5,000 years ago, it’s one of the world’s oldest living civilizational continuities. That identity has always been plural, regional, and evolving. But it has also always been there; visible in memory, ritual, geography, and language. Today, that identity is waking up to its political form. And it will not be put back to sleep.

Hindutva is not going anywhere. Nor is the Indian Union. Those who hoped Kashmir would stay outside this arc have already seen the direction of travel. Pakistan’s decision to opt out of Hindustan, and then build an identity against it, has led not to strength but to strategic stasis. Bangladesh, too, for all its cultural richness, now stands as a separate civilizational lane. And so we arrive at the core truth: Hinduism and India are coterminous.

This isn’t a call for exclusion. But it is a reminder that those who opted out do not get to dictate terms to those who stayed in. That includes foreign commentators and diasporic gatekeepers alike. There is a difference between pluralism and paralysis. There is a difference between nationalism and denial. And if majoritarianism is the anxiety; perhaps the deeper fear is that Hindus are no longer apologizing for being the majority. Let India decide. Let Hindus decide. Let the world, finally, learn to listen.

Resistance, Realignment, and the Roads Not Taken

First, a brief acknowledgment: Kabir remains one of the pillars of this blog. His consistency, depth, and willingness to engage with the hardest questions are invaluable. I don’t always agree with him—but the conversation would be much poorer without his voice. The post is a series of reflections—stitched together from the comment threads.

I. Gaza: Beyond the Pale of Language

The death of a 19-year-old TikToker, Medo Halimy, in South Gaza this week caught my eye—not because it was the most horrific (foetuses are sliced in two in Gaza as Dr. Feroze Sidwa* attests). But because having seen his video, it just made the death so immediate (yes that is a cognitive bias).

At this point, to debate whether what is happening is a genocide feels grotesque. It clearly is. The scale, the intent, the targeting of civilians and children—it’s all there. The legal frame collapses under the moral weight. We are witnessing something darker than war: ethnocultural suffocation & demographic extinction, broadcast live and met with diplomatic shrugs. But the world is watching inspired by the very brave Bob Vylan duo (UK punk-rap duo opposing imperialism, recently denied US visas):

Something stirs and pricks beneath the rubble.

II. The Huma Moment: A Civilizational Reversal? Continue reading Resistance, Realignment, and the Roads Not Taken

Zohran Mamdani and the Question of Civilizational Belonging

Kabir:

I would question how one defines “Indian” culture vs “Hindu” culture (this is a real question, I’m not being snarky). Zohran speaks Urdu/Hindi, wears shalwar kameez and uses Bollywood references in his campaign. So clearly, he has no issues with Indian culture. He’s not a Hindu so he doesn’t go to temples etc. I’m not sure exactly what you expect him to do?

While Zohran Mamdani expresses outward familiarity with “Indian” culture — speaking Hindi/Urdu, referencing Bollywood, wearing traditional attire — these are surface markers. They do not, on their own, constitute rootedness in Indian civilizational identity. Indian culture, especially post-Partition, is not simply a composite of languages and aesthetics. It is anchored in Dharma — a diffuse but pervasive civilisational ethos shaped over millennia by Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh and Jain worldviews.

Despite being born to a Hindu mother, Zohran’s public identity is strongly framed within a Muslim, Middle Eastern, and postcolonial activist context. His political and cultural instincts appear more aligned with pan-Islamic and Western progressive causes than with any articulation of Indian philosophical or spiritual heritage. His Syrian Muslim spouse, activist framing, and lack of visible engagement with Indic traditions contribute to this perception.

This is not a religious critique but a civilizational one. Just as Israel defines its national identity through a broadly Jewish character — irrespective of belief — India’s cultural self-understanding is inseparable from its Hindu roots. To be Indian, in this view, is not to perform cultural familiarity but to resonate with the metaphysical and historical rhythms of the civilization.

By that measure, Zohran — despite South Asian ancestry — does not code as civilizationally Indian, but rather as an American progressive of South Asian Muslim extraction. The distinction is subtle but important.

🪙 What’s in a Name? Mukesh, Not Mukash.

While reading Brad DeLong’s fascinating newsletter on centi-billionaires and political power (I’m going to ignore Elon’s self-imploding stunt), I noticed something that jarred me more than it should have: Mukesh Ambani’s name was misspelled as “Mukash.” A minor slip, perhaps. But it was the only error in a list that included Bernard Arnault, Warren Buffett, and Michael Bloomberg—men whose names command a certain global familiarity.

What does it say that even after spending nearly half a billion dollars on a wedding for his son, India’s wealthiest man doesn’t merit a spellcheck? It says a lot.

🧠 The Chimera of Respect via Capital Continue reading 🪙 What’s in a Name? Mukesh, Not Mukash.