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The Atheist Who Invented Hindutva: The Mirror Turned Inward

Series Prologue: Part 3

Series: India’s Strategic Choices and Civilisational Responsibilities

The ideology that today presents itself as the authentic voice of Hindu civilisation was constructed by an atheist using conceptual tools borrowed from European ethnic nationalism — the very tradition most alien to India’s own pluralist philosophical inheritance.

In the previous two posts in this prologue, I traced the material foundations and ideological engine of five centuries of Western domination. I argued that India’s civilisational traditions offer a fundamentally different foundation for the emerging world order: pluralist, ethically grounded, and rooted in the universal kinship expressed in Kanian Poongundranar’s “Yaadhum Oorey, Yaavarum Kelir” and the Thirukkural’s vision of Aram, Porul, and Inbam. But intellectual honesty requires that the mirror be turned inward. Because the logic of exceptionalism — the claim to a uniquely chosen identity that exempts a community from the ethical constraints applying to others — is not exclusively a Western pathology. It is a temptation that every civilisation faces when political power finds it useful. And India is not immune.

The ideology known as Hindutva, which exercises dominant political influence in India today, must be examined with the same analytical rigour we have applied to Western and Zionist exceptionalism. Not because the comparison is comfortable — it is not — but because intellectual integrity demands it, and because India’s civilisational integrity depends on it. The examination is best conducted in three stages, because the ideology was not built in one.

Stage One: The Founder Who Separated the Nation from the Faith

The first and most important fact is one the movement rarely acknowledges: “Hindutva is not Hinduism.” Hindutva was founded by an atheist, and it was not, in its original formulation, a religious idea at all. Vinayak Damodar Savarkar, who coined the term in his 1923 pamphlet ‘Essentials of Hindutva’, was a self-declared atheist, rationalist, and materialist. He rejected scripture, ridiculed cow worship and ritual superstition, and championed European scientific temper over what he saw as the dead weight of religious tradition. He was explicit that Hindutva was not Hinduism. He defined a ‘Hindu’ not by religious belief but by three criteria: Pitribhumi, a common fatherland; Jati, a common race or descent; and Sanskriti, a common culture. A Hindu, in Savarkar’s definition, need not believe in any god at all. What mattered was that India was both his fatherland and his Holyland — a territorial and ethnic test, not a spiritual one.

Savarkar defined a ‘Hindu’ not by religious belief but by three criteria: Pitribhumi, a common fatherland; Jati, a common race or descent; and Sanskriti, a common culture.

Johan Caspar Bluntschli

Where did this conception come from? Not from the Vedas, the Upanishads, or any Hindu philosophical source. It came from Europe. Savarkar’s framework of organic ethnic nationalism drew on the nineteenth-century European tradition of the nation as a racial-cultural organism — the tradition of the Swiss-born jurist Johann Kaspar Bluntschli, who worked within German Staatslehre and distinguished between a nation’s racially rooted ‘principal’ people and those he regarded as alien to it. It drew, too, on the ethnic nationalisms then ascendant across Europe, the same intellectual currents that were hardening elsewhere into far darker forms. This is the first irony, and it is foundational: the ideology that today presents itself as the authentic voice of Hindu civilisation was constructed by an atheist using conceptual tools borrowed from European ethnic nationalism — the very tradition most alien to India’s own pluralist philosophical inheritance.

Stage Two: The Fusion of Ethnic Nationalism with Religious Sentiment

If Savarkar’s Hindutva was a rationalist, secular-ethnic nationalism, how did it become the religiously charged mass movement we see today — mobilising temple, festival, deity, and devotional feeling for political ends? The answer is that this was a second and distinct stage, carried out by different men, for a different purpose: mass mobilisation.

M S Golwalkar

M.S. Golwalkar, who led the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh from 1940 to 1973, shifted the register decisively. Where Savarkar grounded the nation in race and territory and had little use for religion as such, Golwalkar infused the project with Hindu spiritual and metaphysical content — the sacredness of Bharat, the dharmic mission of the Hindu people, a civilisational destiny cast in religious language. Deendayal Upadhyaya’s doctrine of ‘Integral Humanism,’ adopted in 1965 and later made the official ideology of the Jana Sangh and then the Bharatiya Janata Party, further anchored the political project in a claimed Hindu spiritual essence. The reason for the shift is not difficult to understand. An abstract theory of ethnic nationalism, however rigorously constructed, cannot move a population. Religious sentiment — festival, symbol, deity, the deep and genuine devotional attachment of hundreds of millions of people — is among the most powerful mobilising forces in human affairs. The movement discovered what its rationalist founder had not prioritised: that to win a nation, you must reach its heart, and in India the heart is substantially religious.

One need not impute cynical motive to any individual to observe the structural result. A political ideology founded on secular-ethnic lines was, over subsequent decades, fused with the religious devotion of the Hindu masses — and in that fusion, the crucial distinction Savarkar himself had insisted upon, between Hindutva the political-national identity and Hinduism the faith, was quietly erased. The movement that claims to defend Hindu dharma was built on a foundation laid by a man who had little personal use for dharma as religion at all.

And Savarkar himself never crossed over. He remained an atheist and rationalist to the end of his life — campaigning against ritualism and caste orthodoxy through his Ratnagiri years, opening the Patit Pavan Mandir to all castes, arguing for care of the cow as a useful animal rather than worship of it as a sacred one. His relations with the RSS were notably cool; he scorned its abstention from politics, and Golwalkar’s mysticism belonged to a register the materialist Savarkar never adopted. His death in 1966 was a final statement: he ended his life by voluntarily renouncing food and medicine, justified in a rationalist essay, and his will forbade religious rites — no priests, no rituals, a motorised hearse in place of the traditional bier. The founder kept Hindutva and Hindu religiosity separate for eighty-three years, to the point of a ritual-free funeral. The fusion of the two was not his evolution. It was a second construction, built around him and after him — which is precisely why it can be unbuilt.

The Zionism Parallel: A Precise Structural Homology

This two-stage pattern is not unique to Hindutva. It follows, with striking precision, the trajectory of political Zionism — and the comparison is instructive rather than incidental. Theodor Herzl, the founder of political Zionism, was a secular, largely non-religious Viennese journalist. His 1896 work Der Judenstaat is a political and national argument, not a religious one; early political Zionism was in large part a secular nationalist movement, and many Orthodox religious authorities initially opposed it precisely because it presumed to force a national project onto what they regarded as a matter of faith and divine timing. Only later did the movement fuse itself with religious claim — the theological reading of the land, the mobilisation of scripture, and the memory of the Holocaust deployed as a unifying and legitimating force. The structure is identical to the Hindutva trajectory: a secular founder formulates an ethnic-national ideology; later leaders infuse it with religious sentiment and collective memory to achieve mass appeal and to place the project beyond ordinary political criticism.

The Warning: Where this Trajectory Leads

Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor brought out this report after the first year of war in Gaza by Israel. It has now been on for more than three years and has engulfed the entire West Asia.

And here the parallel carries a warning that thoughtful Indian people cannot afford to ignore. For if Hindutva’s path resembles Zionism’s in how the ideology is built, we must look honestly at where that path has led. The fusion of a secular-ethnic nationalism with religious claim did not strengthen the moral standing of the project it produced. It corrupted it. The state that emerged now stands, in the aftermath of Gaza, in a condition of profound moral and political isolation — its conduct condemned across much of the world, its claim to act in the name of an ancient faith increasingly repudiated by the faithful themselves. Many Jews who practise Judaism as a religion and a moral tradition have publicly dissociated themselves from the actions of the Israeli state, insisting on the very distinction this essay draws: that a faith is not the same as a political-national project conducted in its name, and that the project does not speak for the faith. Judaism, one of humanity’s great ethical traditions, has been ill-served by what has been done in its name.

Many Jews who practise Judaism as a religion and a moral tradition have publicly dissociated themselves from the actions of the Israeli state, insisting on the very distinction this essay draws: that a faith is not the same as a political-national project conducted in its name, and that the project does not speak for the faith. Judaism, one of humanity’s great ethical traditions, has been ill-served by what has been done in its name.

The warning for India is exact. Hindutva today shows every sign of being on a similar trajectory — the same fusion of ethnic nationalism with mobilised religious sentiment, the same erasure of the distinction between a faith and a political project, the same tendency to place that project beyond criticism by wrapping it in the sacred. If it continues down that path, it risks doing to Hinduism what political Zionism’s corruption has done to Judaism: isolating it, discrediting it, and betraying its deepest moral content — all in the name of defending it.

Why This Matters: And What is at Stake

This is why the distinction between Hinduism and Hindutva is not academic hair-splitting. It is the difference between a civilisation and an ideology that has captured its name. Hinduism is one of the oldest and most philosophically sophisticated traditions on earth. It has no single founding prophet, no single canonical scripture, no orthodoxy, and no mechanism for excommunicating heretics — because diversity of belief and inquiry is not a problem to be solved but the natural condition of a tradition too vast for any single formulation to contain. Its foundational statement, from the Rigveda, is Ekam Sat Vipra Bahudha Vadanti: truth is one, the wise call it by many names. It gave the world the Upanishads, the Jain Anekantavada — the many-sidedness of truth — the Buddha and Mahavira, the Bhakti and Sufi streams, the Tamil saint Vallalar’s image of the many religions as rivers merging into a single shoreless ocean. It is, arguably, the most spiritually plural and philosophically generous civilisational inheritance humanity possesses.

Hinduism is one of the oldest and most philosophically sophisticated traditions on earth. It has no single founding prophet, no single canonical scripture, no orthodoxy, and no mechanism for excommunicating heretics — because diversity of belief and inquiry is not a problem to be solved but the natural condition of a tradition too vast for any single formulation to contain.

Hinduism’s foundational statement, from the Rigveda, is Ekam Sat Vipra Bahudha Vadanti: truth is one, the wise call it by many names. It gave the world the Upanishads, the Jain Anekantavada — the many-sidedness of truth — the Buddha and Mahavira, the Bhakti and Sufi streams, the Tamil saint Vallalar’s image of the many religions as rivers merging into a single shoreless ocean. It is, arguably, the most spiritually plural and philosophically generous civilisational inheritance humanity possesses.

A country with over 200 million Muslim citizens — the second-largest Muslim population in the world — cannot credibly champion the Global South, the voice of universal human dignity, or the reform of the world order, if its dominant political ideology frames those citizens as the internal Other. And an ideology founded by an atheist on borrowed European ethnic-nationalist theory, later dressed in religious sentiment for political mobilisation, cannot be the authentic voice of the tradition of Ekam Sat and Anekantavada. It is, in the most precise sense, that tradition’s negation.

The strongest argument against Hindutva, therefore, is not secular liberalism, and not the critique of any political party. It is Hindu philosophy itself — the Upanishads, the Thirukkural, the Anekantavada, Vallalar’s Ocean, the Sangam world’s ‘Yaadhum Oorey, Yaavarum Kelir’. These traditions do not need political exceptionalism to survive; they are diminished by it.

“Ekam Sat Vipra Bahudha Vadanti: truth is one; the wise call it by many names” – Rigveda

Safeguarding India’s civilisational soul from the exceptionalism now deforming it from within is not an act of opposition to Hindu culture. It is its most authentic defence — and it is a task for every Indian who understands the depth of what is being risked.

— This is the third and final part of the series prologue. The series proper begins with the next post.

A companion essay, ‘The Constitution or the Manusmriti: India’s Civilisational Choice,’ extends this argument and is available at thepeninsula.org.in.

Air Marshal M Matheswaran (Retd) is the Founder-President of The Peninsula Foundation (@TPF_Chennai), grounded in the conviction that India’s greatest strength is its civilisational pluralism — and that any ideology, domestic or foreign, that threatens that pluralism threatens India itself.

Further Reading:

On Savarkar, his atheism, and the formulation of Hindutva:

Vinayak Damodar Savarkar, Essentials of Hindutva (1923); republished as Hindutva: Who Is a Hindu? (1928).

Janaki Bakhle, Savarkar and the Making of Hindutva (Princeton University Press, 2024).

The definitive intellectual biography; on Savarkar’s atheism, rationalism, and the territorial-ethnic (not religious) definition of the Hindu.

Vikram Visana, ‘Savarkar before Hindutva: Sovereignty, Republicanism, and Populism in India, c. 1900–1920,’ Modern Intellectual History (Cambridge University Press, 2021).

On Savarkar’s debt to European ethnic-nationalist thought, including Bluntschli.

Johann Kaspar Bluntschli, The Theory of the State (1875; English trans. Clarendon Press, 1885).

Bluntschli was Swiss-born (Zurich, 1808), working within the German tradition of Staatslehre.

On the shift to religious mass mobilisation — Golwalkar and Upadhyaya:

M.S. Golwalkar, We, or Our Nationhood Defined (1939) and Bunch of Thoughts (1966).

Deendayal Upadhyaya, Integral Humanism (1965).

Christophe Jaffrelot, The Hindu Nationalist Movement and Indian Politics, 1925 to the 1990s (Hurst, 1996).

On the RSS’s development and the religious infusion of Savarkar’s originally secular-ethnic framework.

Chetan Bhatt, Hindu Nationalism: Origins, Ideologies and Modern Myths (Berg, 2001).

On political Zionism, its secular origins, and Jewish dissent:

Theodor Herzl, Der Judenstaat (The Jewish State) (1896).

Shlomo Sand, The Invention of the Jewish People (Verso, 2009).

Yakov M. Rabkin, A Threat from Within: A Century of Jewish Opposition to Zionism (Fernwood/Zed Books, 2006).

On the theological and secular Jewish opposition to political Zionism, from its origins to the present.

On Hindu philosophical pluralism:

Rigveda, 1.164.46: Ekam Sat Vipra Bahudha Vadanti.

Ramalinga Adigalar (Vallalar), Thiru Arutpa, Sixth Thirumurai, Verse 3907.

Thiruvalluvar, Thirukkural. Trans. P.S. Sundaram (Penguin, 1990).

Amartya Sen, The Argumentative Indian (Penguin, 2005).

Wendy Doniger, The Hindus: An Alternative History (Penguin, 2009).

Feature Image Credit: Savarkar and Hindutva – image made with AI assistance.

July 21, 2026
Indian Philosophy and religion: Abolishing the caste system as an attempt in Intercultural Philosophy

We start the year 2023 with an examination of philosophy and society and through it the social evil of caste. The origin of the caste system in Hindu society lies buried in many myths and misconceptions. Caste is often linked by many to the core of Hindu philosophy. This is a deeply flawed understanding. The caste system has been and continues to be a tool of power and economic exploitation by oppressing large segments of the population. It is largely an invention by the clergy to establish their power and domination through rituals and codes and by ascribing to them a forced religious sanctity. As it also becomes convenient to the rulers, caste and class are prevalent in all societies. Philosophy and true religion, as Andreas points out in this working paper, have had nothing to do with caste or class. – TPF Editorial Team

Introduction

Intercultural philosophy is absolutely necessary in order to cope with the current and new phase of hybrid globalization, which is dissolving all kinds of traditional identities. Whereas the current reaction to this process is the development of ideologies centred on the idea of “we against the rest”, whoever the “Rest” might be, we need to construct positive concepts of identity, which does not exclude but include the other. These can be based on the mutual recognition of the civilizations of the world and their philosophies. According to Karl Jaspers the godfather of intercultural philosophy, between the sixth and third century BC the development of great cities, and the development in agriculture and sciences led to a growth of the populace that forced humankind to develop new concepts of thinking. He labelled this epoch as the axial age of world history in which everything turned around. He even argued that in this time the particular human being or human thinking was born with which we still live today – my thesis is that all human religions, civilizations and philosophies share the same problems and questions but did find different solutions.

A vivid example might be the relationship between happiness and suffering. In the philosophy of the Greek philosopher Aristotle, to achieve eudemonia or happiness in your earthly life was the greatest aim whereas in a popular understanding of Karma, life is characterized by suffering and the aim is to overcome suffering by transcending to Nirvana. You see, the problem is the same, but there are different solutions in various philosophies. Although Jaspers didn’t share the reduction of philosophy and civilization to the European or even German experience and included mainly the Chinese and Indian civilization, he nevertheless excluded the African continent and both Americas, Muslim civilization as well as the much older Egyptian civilization. So, although he enlarged our knowledge and understanding of civilizations his point of reference was still “Western modernity” and within it, the concept of functional differentiation played the major role.

Another solution is embodied in the belief of the three monotheistic religions, that an omnipotent god is the unifying principle despite all human differentiations and even the differences between the living and the dead, love and hate, between war and peace, men and women, old and young, linear and non-linear understanding of time, beginning and ending, happiness and suffering. In this belief system, we are inevitably confronted with unsurpassable contrasts, conflicts and contradictions – but an all-powerful and absolute good god is the one who is uniting all these contrasts.

In principle in Chinese philosophy, we have the same problem – but instead of an all-powerful God, we as humans have the task to live in harmony with the cosmic harmony. So, I really think that we humans share the same philosophical problems – how to explain and overcome death, evil, suffering, and the separation from transcendence. Although Karl Jaspers could be seen as the founding father of intercultural philosophy, I think he put too much emphasis solely on the functional differentiation that an ever-growing populace could live together without violence. In my view, the questions of life and death are running deeper. I would not exclude functional differentiation as one of the driving forces of human development but at least we also need an understanding of human existence that is related to transgressing the contrasts of life.

In this draft, I would like to give some impressions concerning this same problem based on my limited knowledge of Indian philosophy and religion and try to show that both are opposing the caste system as well as any kind of dogmatism. An Indian student asked me in the run-up to this draft how one could understand Indian philosophy if one had not internalized the idea of rebirth since you are a baby. From her point of view, the whole thinking on the Indian subcontinent is thus determined by the idea of rebirth – this problem will still occupy us in the question of whether the terrible caste system in India is compatible with the original intentions of the Indian religions, whether it can be derived from them or contradicts them. I will try to give a reason for the assumption that Indian philosophy is quite universal and at the same time open to different strands of philosophical thought, retaining its core.

In its essence, it is about Karma, rebirth, and Moksha. An understanding of Atman and Brahman is essential. Atman is the soul, indestructible, and is part of Brahman (omnipresent God). When Atman continues to reform and refine itself through rebirths aspiring to become one with Brahman, that is Moksha. To attain Moksha is the purpose of each life. Moksha is being one with God…a state where there is no more rebirths. Of course, differences are there in interpreting Atman and Brahman, depending on the Advaita and Dwaita schools of philosophy. Ultimately both narrow down to the same point – Moksha. Karma is the real part. True Karma is about doing your work in life as duty and dispassionately. Understanding that every life form has a purpose, one should go about it dispassionately. Easier said than done. Understanding this is the crux. In an ideal life where one has a full understanding of Karma and performs accordingly, he/she will have no rebirth. Indian philosophy is careful to separate the religious and social practices of the common folks and the high religion. Hence Caste and hierarchy are not part of the philosophical discourse, although many make the mistake of linking them. Caste, like in any other religion, is a clergy-driven issue for power and economic exploitation.

Indian Philosophy (or, in Sanskrit, Darshanas), refers to any of several traditions of philosophical thought that originated in the Indian subcontinent, including Hindu philosophy, Buddhist philosophy, and Jain philosophy. It is considered by Indian thinkers to be a practical discipline, and its goal should always be to improve human life. In contrast to the major monotheistic religions, Hinduism does not draw a sharp distinction between God and creation (while there are pantheistic and panentheistic views in Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, these are minority positions). Many Hindus believe in a personal God and identify this God as immanent in creation. This view has ramifications for the science and religion debate, in that there is no sharp ontological distinction between creator and creature. Philosophical theology in Hinduism (and other Indic religions) is usually referred to as dharma, and religious traditions originating on the Indian subcontinent, including Hinduism, Jainism, Buddhism, and Sikhism, are referred to as dharmic religions. Philosophical schools within dharma are referred to as darśana.

Religion and science

One factor that unites dharmic religions is the importance of foundational texts, which were formulated during the Vedic period, between ca. 1600 and 700 BCE. These include the Véda (Vedas), which contain hymns and prescriptions for performing rituals, Brāhmaṇa, accompanying liturgical texts, and Upaniṣad, metaphysical treatises. The Véda appeals to a wide range of gods who personify and embody natural phenomena such as fire (Agni) and wind (Vāyu). More gods were added in the following centuries (e.g., Gaṇeśa and Sati-Parvati in the fourth century CE). Ancient Vedic rituals encouraged knowledge of diverse sciences, including astronomy, linguistics, and mathematics. Astronomical knowledge was required to determine the timing of rituals and the construction of sacrificial altars. Linguistics developed out of a need to formalize grammatical rules for classical Sanskrit, which was used in rituals. Large public offerings also required the construction of elaborate altars, which posed geometrical problems and thus led to advances in geometry.

Classic Vedic texts also frequently used very large numbers, for instance, to denote the age of humanity and the Earth, which required a system to represent numbers parsimoniously, giving rise to a 10-base positional system and a symbolic representation for zero as a placeholder, which would later be imported in other mathematical traditions. In this way, ancient Indian dharma encouraged the emergence of the sciences.

The relationship between science and religion on the Indian subcontinent is complex, in part because the dharmic religions and philosophical schools are so diverse.

Around the sixth–fifth century BCE, the northern part of the Indian subcontinent experienced extensive urbanization. In this context, medicine became standardized (āyurveda). This period also gave rise to a wide range of philosophical schools, including Buddhism, Jainism, and Cārvāka. The latter defended a form of metaphysical naturalism, denying the existence of gods or karma. The relationship between science and religion on the Indian subcontinent is complex, in part because the dharmic religions and philosophical schools are so diverse. For example, Cārvāka proponents had a strong suspicion of inferential beliefs, and rejected Vedic revelation and supernaturalism in general, instead favouring direct observation as a source of knowledge. Such views were close to philosophical naturalism in modern science, but this school disappeared in the twelfth century. Nevertheless, already in classical Indian religions, there was a close relationship between religion and the sciences.

Opposing dogmatism: the role of colonial rule

The word “Hinduism” emerged in the nineteenth century, and some scholars have argued that the religion did so, too. They say that British colonials, taken aback by what they experienced as the pagan profusion of cults and gods, sought to compact a religious diversity into a single, subsuming entity. Being literate Christians, they looked for sacred texts that might underlay this imputed tradition, enlisting the assistance of the Sanskrit-reading Brahmins. A canon and an attendant ideology were extracted, and with it, Hinduism. Other scholars question this history, insisting that a self-conscious sense of Hindu identity preceded this era, defined in no small part by contrast to Islam. A similar story could be told about other world religions. We shouldn’t expect to resolve this dispute, which involves the weightings we give to points of similarity and points of difference. And scholars on both sides of this divide acknowledge the vast pluralism that characterized, and still characterizes, the beliefs, rituals, and forms of worship among the South Asians who have come to identify as Hindu.

Here I would like to mention some of the scriptures in Hinduism: The longest of these is the religious epic, the Mahabharata, which clocks in at some 180000 thousand words, which is ten times the size of the Iliad and the Odyssey of Homer combined. Then there’s the Ramayana, which recounts the heroic attempts of Prince Rama to rescue his wife from a demon king. It has as many verses as the Hebrew bible. The Vedas which are the oldest Sanskrit scriptures include hymns and other magical and liturgical; and the Rig-Veda, the oldest, consists of nearly 11 000 lines of hymns of praise to the gods.

But the Rig Veda does not only contain hymns of praise of God but a philosophical exposition which can be compared with Hegel’s conceptualization of the beginning in his “Logic”, which is not just about logic in the narrow sense but about being and non-being:

In the Rig Veda we find the following hymn:

Nasadiya Sukta (10. 129)

There was neither non-existence nor existence then;
Neither the realm of space nor the sky which is beyond;
What stirred? Where? In whose protection?

There was neither death nor immortality then;
No distinguishing sign of night nor of day;
That One breathed, windless, by its own impulse;
Other than that there was nothing beyond.

Darkness there was at first, by darkness hidden;
Without distinctive marks, this all was water;
That which, becoming, by the void was covered;
That One by force of heat came into being.

Who really knows? Who will here proclaim it?
Whence was it produced? Whence is this creation?
Gods came afterwards, with the creation of this universe.
Who then knows whence it has arisen?

Whether God’s will created it, or whether He was mute;
Perhaps it formed itself, or perhaps it did not;
Only He who is its overseer in highest heaven knows,

Only He knows, or perhaps He does not know.

—Rigveda 10.129 (Abridged, Tr: Kramer / Christian)

Nasadiya Sukta begins rather interestingly, with the statement – “Then, there was neither existence nor non-existence.” It ponders over the when, why and by whom of creation in a very sincere contemplative tone and provides no definite answers. Rather, it concludes that the gods too may not know, as they came after creation. And maybe the supervisor of creation in the highest heaven knows, or maybe even he does not know.

The philosophical character of this hymn becomes obvious when stating that there was something or someone who created even the gods. This question might be similar to the one that created the big bang thirteen billion years ago. In my view, the Rigveda is the most elaborate Veda opposing any kind of dogmatism, any ideology. Instead, it gives reason for the assumption which is of paramount importance in an ever-changing world, that there is no absolute knowledge, there is an increasing sense of unsureness, and we can’t rely on fixed rules – but that we are responsible for our actions.

Müller made the term central to his criticism of Western theological and religious exceptionalism (relative to Eastern religions) focusing on a cultural dogma which held “monotheism” to be both fundamentally well-defined and inherently superior to differing conceptions of God.

The second problem is related to the question of whether this hymn should be interpreted as monotheistic, dualistic or polytheistic. Some scholars like Frederik Schelling have invented the term Henotheism (from, greek ἑνός θεοῦ (henos theou), meaning ‘of one god’) is the worship of a single god while not denying the existence or possible existence of other deities. Schelling coined the word, and Frederik Welcker (1784–1868) used it to depict primitive monotheism in ancient Greeks. Max Müller (1823–1900), a German philologist and orientalist, brought the term into wider usage in his scholarship on the Indian religions, particularly Hinduism whose scriptures mention and praise numerous deities as if they are one ultimate unitary divine essence. Müller made the term central to his criticism of Western theological and religious exceptionalism (relative to Eastern religions) focusing on a cultural dogma which held “monotheism” to be both fundamentally well-defined and inherently superior to differing conceptions of God.

Mueller in the end emphasizes that henotheism is not a primitive form of monotheism but a different conceptualization. We find a similar passage in the gospel of John in which it is stated:

1In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him, nothing was made that has been made. 4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

It is clearly written that in the beginning there was the word – not God. In the original Greek version of this gospel, the term logos is used, and Hegel made this passage the foundation of his whole philosophy. Closely related to the Rig Veda is the concept of Atman. Ātman (Atma, आत्मा, आत्मन्) is a Sanskrit word which means “essence, breath, soul” and which is for the first time discussed in the Rig-Veda. Nevertheless, this concept is most cherished in the Upanishads, which are written precisely between the 8^th to 5^th centuries B.C., the period in which according to Jaspers the axial age began. Again, this concept is an attempt to reconcile the various differentiations which were necessary for the function of a society with an ever-increasing population.

I want to highlight that Hinduism – in its Vedic and classic variants – did not support the caste system; but that it rigorously opposed it in practice and principle. Even after the emergence of the caste system, Hindu society still saw considerable occupational and social mobility. Moreover, Hinduism created legends to impress on the popular mind the invalidity of the caste system – a fact further reinforced by the constant efflorescence of reform movements throughout history. The caste system survived despite this because of factors that ranged from the socio-economic to the ecological sphere, which helped sustain and preserve the balance among communities in a non-modern world.

It would be absolutely necessary to demolish the myth that the caste system is an intrinsic part of Hinduism as a religion as well as a philosophy. Although, there is a historically explainable link between both but not one which I would label a necessary or logical connection. Of course, the proponents of the caste system tried to legitimize the caste system by using references from the ancient scriptures – but as we maintain we must not understand Hinduism just in relation to Dharma if we would understand it just as jati or birth-based social division.

The myth of the caste system being an intrinsic part of Hinduism is a discourse in the meaning in which Foucault has used this concept as just exercising power.

I’m not sure whether this interpretation represents the major understanding in India, but I think it might be essential in a globalized world to debunk this only seemingly close relation, which has just a historical dimension and would therefore be a vivid example just of a discursive practice. The myth of the caste system being an intrinsic part of Hinduism is a discourse in the meaning in which Foucault has used this concept as just exercising power.

This discourse is believed by orthodox elements in Hinduism as well as propagated by elements outside of Hinduism who are trying to proselyte Hindus. I would like to treat this problem a little bit more extensively because it might be used for other religions and civilizations, too, in which suppression and dominance are seemingly legitimized by holy scriptures but by taking a closer look this relation is just a discourse of power.

Nevertheless, there is a very old text of Hinduism in which the caste system is legitimized. It is called Manusmṛiti (Sanskrit: मनुस्मृति), also spelt as Manusmruti, is an ancient legal text. It was one of the first Sanskrit texts to have been translated into English in 1794, by Sir William Jones, and was used to formulate the Hindu law by the British colonial government.

Over fifty manuscripts of the Manusmriti are now known, but the earliest discovered, most translated and presumed authentic version since the 18th century has been the “Calcutta manuscript with Kulluka Bhatta commentary”.

How did caste come about?

Manusmriti, widely regarded to be the most important and authoritative book on Hindu law and dating back to at least 1,000 years before Christ was born, seems to “acknowledge and justify the caste system as the basis of order and regularity of society”. The caste system divides Hindus into four main categories – Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas and the Shudras. Many believe that the groups originated from Brahma, the Hindu God of creation.

At the top of the hierarchy were the Brahmins who were mainly teachers and intellectuals and are believed to have come from Brahma’s head. Then came the Kshatriyas, or the warriors and rulers, supposedly from his arms. The third slot went to the Vaishyas, or the traders, who were created from his thighs. At the bottom of the heap were the Shudras, who came from Brahma’s feet and did all the menial jobs. The main castes were further divided into about 3,000 castes and 25,000 sub-castes, each based on their specific occupation. Outside of this Hindu caste system were the achhoots – the Dalits or the untouchables.

How does caste work?

For centuries, caste has dictated almost every aspect of Hindu religious and social life, with each group occupying a specific place in this complex hierarchy. Rural communities have long been arranged on the basis of castes – the upper and lower castes almost always lived in segregated colonies, the water wells were not shared, Brahmins would not accept food or drink from the Shudras, and one could marry only within one’s caste. The system bestowed many privileges on the upper castes while sanctioning repression of the lower castes by privileged groups.

New research shows that hard boundaries between the social groups were only set by British colonial rulers who made caste India’s defining social feature when they used censuses to simplify the system, primarily to create a single society with a common law that could be easily governed.

Often criticized for being unjust and regressive, it remained virtually unchanged for centuries, trapping people into fixed social orders from which it was impossible to escape. Despite the obstacles, however, some Dalits and other low-caste Indians, such as BR Ambedkar who authored the Indian constitution, and KR Narayanan who became the nation’s first Dalit president, have risen to hold prestigious positions in the country. Historians, though, say that until the 18th Century, the formal distinctions of caste were of limited importance to Indians, social identities were much more flexible, and people could move easily from one caste to another. New research shows that hard boundaries between the social groups were only set by British colonial rulers who made caste India’s defining social feature when they used censuses to simplify the system, primarily to create a single society with a common law that could be easily governed.

So, the caste system in its strict interpretation is an invention of British rules – of course, it existed already in some form around three thousand years ago. However, it is disputed whether in ancient times it was more of a kind of functional differentiation in the meaning of Karl Jaspers, whereas since colonial times it became a separation boundary between the various groups. I assume that the colonial rulers transformed an existing variety of functional differentiations of identities into strictly separated castes for reasons of securing their rule. As in other colonial rules like in Africa, the colonizers were puzzled by the plurality of social groups, their ability to change from one group to the other and transformed social groups based on functional differentiation into castes and classes to facilitate their own rule. Overcoming the caste system thus involves overcoming colonialism.

January 2, 2023
Mankind as a wholeness – we must comprehend ourselves as a unity in order to survive

One might think that mankind has not changed for millennia – we are still antiquated, as Günther Anders had pointed out after his visit to Hiroshima shortly after the atomic bombing. Basically, Anders argued that technical-industrial possibilities have rushed far ahead of comprehension and our moral responsibility – as evidenced in the use of nuclear power, the possibility of self-destruction of humanity during the nuclear arms race (especially in 1983), which was partly prevented only by chance, genetic engineering, and medical possibilities at the beginning and end of life. Add to this climate change and obscene inequality throughout the world.

Looking at the current explosions of violence on the macro level (Ukraine, Syria, new arms race between the great powers) as well as on the micro level (for example in Central America the Maras) one might think that mankind has not changed for millennia – we are still antiquated, as Günther Anders had pointed out after his visit to Hiroshima shortly after the atomic bombing. Basically, Anders argued that technical-industrial possibilities have rushed far ahead of comprehension and our moral responsibility – as evidenced in the use of nuclear power, the possibility of self-destruction of humanity during the nuclear arms race (especially in 1983), which was partly prevented only by chance, genetic engineering, and medical possibilities at the beginning and end of life. Add to this climate change and obscene inequality throughout the world, we must ask ourselves who we are as humans? How can we explain to our children and grandchildren what we have done for them – or more importantly, not done? Statistically, however, we are living in the most peaceful age in human history to date. The present dominance of the violence topic, of fears and despair as world-politically effective emotions can therefore be a question of the increased and partly medially staged perception – or nevertheless a real setback. But also, here it could be true that mainly our terms and conceptions are put to the test. For such setbacks primarily question the idea of the linearity of progress, not necessarily progress itself. If we assume the models of a linear ascending progress as in the Enlightenment or in Kant or an equally linear pure history of decay, we cannot integrate contrary developments into our world view – and every contrary development calls the whole model into question. In contrast, models of history based on a cycle (Greek Stoa, Hinduism) are able to capture the constant in change but can only imperfectly explain progress at the societal level. The historical model of a Machiavelli, on the other hand, includes change, but change is always repeated and can best be compared to a sine curve.

The argument about models of history is by no means abstract, as it appears at first sight. The Marxists as well as Leninists and finally the Stalinists have pursued radical politics with the linear model of progress, just as the idea of the thousand-year Reich had influence on the politics of the National Socialists. Are there alternative models beyond pure decay, equally linear progress, or the assumption that humans do not change after all, or lag behind their technological capabilities in moral and spiritual terms?

Models for Understanding History – G W F Hegel

These positions are not unfounded – however, their absolutization is wrong. As in various psychological (Piaget and Kohlberg) and sociological (Auguste Comte) approaches, the German philosopher Georg W.F. Hegel starts from a stage model in which he develops a progress of world history in the consciousness of freedom. Despite his own Eurocentrism, stage models are in principle capable of countering a pure binary opposition of affirmation or negation of progress in human history. They also do not imply an absolutely inevitable development, as can be seen from the fact that Kohlberg, for example, does not assume that all people reach the highest level, but emphasizes, like all stage theorists, that one cannot skip any of the stages. But Hegel was just not in the tradition of the Enlightenment and Kant, who assumed a linear model of progress, but developed a dialectical sequence of stages, which in my interpretation could best be compared to a sine curve (as in Machiavelli) but erected on an ascending x-axis. In such a model, we can think of the Enlightenment’s idea of progress (in the ascending x-axis) as well as cyclical developments (Machiavelli) of rise and fall, progress, and regress in world history together.

In this model developed by the author, there is progress, but it is not linear, but itself cyclical. We know such cycles from the business cycle theories in the wake of Kondratieff’s research or also from hegemonic cycles. In contrast to these theoretical approaches, the model of history advocated here is related to a (more or less) slightly ascending x-axis and is derived from Hegel’s conception of becoming at the beginning of his monumental work on the “Science of Logic”, since coming into being and passing away are not completely cancelled out, but a “surplus” arises which goes beyond the infinite coming into being and passing away. Such a model is on the one hand closed (with respect to the high and low points on the Y-axis), at the same time open on the X-axis and develops “between” its high and low points.

Hegel’s stage model has itself been a great historical advance; at the same time, we need to go beyond Hegel to overcome his tendency of constructing a systematic closure (which was then taken as an absolute by Marx in a perfect society of communism) in favour of an approach that is at once closed and open. Despite his Eurocentric reductions, Hegel develops a systematic development of the idea of freedom. In his sequence of stages, human history begins with the development of states in which at first only one was free – the ruler, mostly in the figure of the priest-king, who symbolizes the laws of the gods and rule. Still with Plato we find the construction of the philosopher, who must be at the same time king and vice versa. This all-surpassing freedom of the priest-kings is clearly found for Hegel in the pyramids of Egypt. Hegel calls this phase the infancy of history. Greek antiquity, and here especially the city of Athens, is for him the adolescence of world history – the first individualities are formed. The aesthetics of the Greek statues symbolize for him this phase, in which man understands himself as free, when he professes his free polis. In a certain sense, this phase can be understood as that of the aristocracy, because Athens symbolizes the beginning of democracy, but of the approximately 200,000 inhabitants, only about 30,000 were free – slaves, women and metics (“strangers”) were excluded from freedom.

The focus is no longer on the individual, but on the supra-individual law. Even today, the study of law begins with Roman law (e.g., in dubio pro reo or nulla poene sine lege). Of course, not only Hegel’s choice of words is problematic (e.g., that of “oriental despotism” as the beginning of world history), but also the identification of the fourth stage with the “Germanic period” as the “goal of world history.”

For Hegel, the manhood of world history is that of the Roman Empire. Here, not the individual but the state has become the supreme purpose and Roman law is developed. The focus is no longer on the individual, but on the supra-individual law. Even today, the study of law begins with Roman law (e.g., in dubio pro reo or nulla poene sine lege). Of course, not only Hegel’s choice of words is problematic (e.g., that of “oriental despotism” as the beginning of world history), but also the identification of the fourth stage with the “Germanic period” as the “goal of world history.” Nevertheless, his characterization is noteworthy. In this stage the state is ordered according to reasonable principles, the individual is completely free because he lives in a reasonable society whose laws he recognizes and to which he can refer. Community and individual are reconciled, the ups and downs of world history (as illustrated in the sine curve) seem to have come to their end and now the real history of mankind begins, a happy time.

Of course, we know that this was not so, as Hegel assumed – the violent conquest of the world in colonial times, two world wars, Auschwitz, and Hiroshima, the almost self-destruction of mankind in the cold war, all this was still to come. But is Hegel thereby refuting? Or can and perhaps must we continue Hegel?

Differences to Hegel

In contrast to Hegel’s conception of world history as a progress in the consciousness of freedom, I argue that this development is a progress in the consciousness and practices of humanity to be a wholenessness. Hereby, I no longer foreground Kant’s four questions concerning the individual human being or even an “I”, but rather transform them into who is humanity, what should we do as humanity, what can we know and hope as humanity? The concept of humanity contains the single individual, but this goes beyond the generalization of the individual as in Kant’s categorical imperative. Also, here the old sentence of Aristotle is valid that the whole is more than the sum of the parts – and so I would like to add, mankind as a wholeness is more than the accumulation of at present over 7.8 billion people. At the same time, humanity is realized in individual human beings; there is no humanity without individual human beings.

According to the “Out of Africa thesis,” the genus Homo originated in Africa and spread from there to all continents. One of these groups, immodestly calling itself homo sapiens, has not only outlasted all other human species, but has populated even the most distant tip of this earth, moreover, is making its way to other planets of our solar system. Arnold Gehlen’s determination of man (as also already Aristotle) as imperfect, forces mankind to develop more and more. During this time of spreading over the whole planet, however, the individual groups lost contact with each other, because this lasted for millennia and the distances became too great for the time to bridge in shorter periods of time – they became estranged from each other and lived in isolated cultural islands (for example in China, India, in Africa south of the Sahara, the two Americas or also in the more European part of Eurasia as well as in West Asia). With the increasing spread of these initially isolated cultural islands, they came back into contact with each other – which turned out to be peaceful or sometimes warlike. Huntington’s thesis that these contacts were mainly violent underestimates the mutual cultural influences and learning processes. Globalization since European colonization brought humanity into ever closer contact with each other and made it possible for the first time to think of humanity as a wholeness.

Of course, the setbacks and low blows must not be forgotten – the wars between the great empires, the almost perpetual state of war at the edges of these empires, colonialism, Islamic and Atlantic slavery, racism, two world wars and Auschwitz as a sign of history – but in the end they confirmed the dictum of Goethe and, derived from this, systematized by Hegel as the cunning of history. This is a part of that force which always wills evil and yet creates good. This does not mean to relativize the suffering of countless people. But perhaps we must differentiate and not already take the ideals of the Enlightenment at face value. For this was not only compatible with racism, colonialism, and slavery, two world wars and the Cold War – according to Zygmunt Bauman, these were even direct consequences of a one-sided Enlightenment.

There is currently a worldwide biologisation of the social in the form of ethnicities, gender antagonisms, nationalism and tribalism (Make America great again by Donald Trump, the Chinese Dream by President Xi Jinping, New Russia by Vladimir Putin, Salafism, right-wing nationalist movements in Europe).

If, on the other hand, we assume that the impulse of the realization of human rights could actually only fully develop after World War II and the Holocaust, and included all people, not just one’s own ethnic, cultural, or religious group, we are only at the beginning of the realization of human rights. Again, while it is true that there are setbacks at present – in the form of a discourse of “We against the Rest,” the current replacement of global governance by a renationalisation of world politics, the return of tribal thinking to cope with the demands of globalization, this is not the whole picture. It is also true that globalized liquid modernity (Bauman) is leading to the dissolution of all traditional identities including patriarchy as well as consumerism and many states and nations are updating ancient identities because they trust them to outdo even this accelerated transformation, There is currently a worldwide biologisation of the social in the form of ethnicities, gender antagonisms, nationalism and tribalism (Make America great again by Donald Trump, the Chinese Dream by President Xi Jinping, New Russia by Vladimir Putin, Salafism, right-wing nationalist movements in Europe). Nevertheless, while we are simultaneously witnessing the (often violent) dissolution of the old world, we are also experiencing the birth pangs of a new world. After the West defeated the rest of the world in the 19th century, colonised or submerged peoples and civilizations in the 20th century had to learn to live with the victorious West. In the 21st century, the world’s civilizations must finally learn to live with each other.

In the 1990s, Samuel P. Huntington put forward the much-publicised thesis that the cold war between the ideologically opposed superpowers would be replaced by a similar contest between the world’s civilizations and their respective core states (Russia, India, China, the United States). On the surface, Huntington received more criticism than approval. A closer reading of his approach reveals that he had not drawn up an instruction manual for the “clash of civilizations,” but had formulated a warning to avoid it. The liberal critics, however, emphasized in particular that not only should there not be a clash of civilizations, but also that there could not be, because there was only one civilization in the world, the Western one. The other civilizations mentioned by Huntington are determined by different religions and cultures, but they would not be civilizations. In contrast, the “clash of civilizations” involves a conflict, but the implicit recognition that civilizations other than the Western one exists at all.

In the 21st century, the world’s civilizations must finally learn to live with each other.

This recognition of a limited plurality of civilizations makes possible for the first time the thinking, experiencing, and acting of humanity as a wholenessness. In such a wholenessness, opposites, conflicts and even wars are conceivable – from a sociological perspective, conflicts are not opposed to a socialization of humanity (sociology of conflict in the wake of Tönnies and Simmel), even if these bring much suffering with them. All high religions that emerged between the 7th century B.C. (Judaism, Confucianism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity) and the 7th century A.D. (Islam) formulate an overcoming and renunciation of infinite suffering. This ethicization of transcendence (Jaspers) or also of immanence (Confucianism) contains in its core a perspective of the abolition of suffering, which can be overcome either in transcendence or, with appropriate conduct of life, already in immanence. Suffering, war, and violence are thus no longer accepted as “natural”, but an attempt is made to leave them behind. Although in Hinduism the cycle (symbolized in the wheel) is emphasized – but the goal of life in the different rebirths consists in overcoming this cycle. Therefore, a core message of Hinduism is the statement that the end is good – but if it is not good, it is not the end. While in the “nature religions” like also the Egyptian mythology, before the emergence of these high religions the transcendence was only a mirror of the earthly life, this is explained now to be absolute good – connected with the perspective to orientate the own life at this construction.

in Hinduism the cycle (symbolized in the wheel) is emphasized – but the goal of life in the different rebirths consists in overcoming this cycle. Therefore, a core message of Hinduism is the statement that the end is good – but if it is not good, it is not the end.

Here it should not be concealed that this ethicization of the transcendent as well as of immanence can be and has been used to legitimize violence – in direct inversion to Goethe and Hegel we have to acknowledge that the absolutization of the good has also contributed to the legitimization of war and violence in the form: “this is a part of that force which always wants the good and yet creates evil” (Herberg-Rothe). In contrast to positions that attribute the positive sides of religions only to these themselves, the negative ones exclusively to the respective social, political, cultural, and historical circumstances, I assume that the absolutization of the respective ideas contains a tendency to violence. After the western modernity had written the generalization of the presupposed individual on the flags, a new balance of the individual and the communality is to be constructed for a dialogue of the civilizations, which contains at the same time their further development.

Mankind understood in this way does not include a pure juxtaposition in the sense of a diversity of the civilizations of the world, as this is laid out – despite all remarkable insights – in the conception of a multiplex world or a Global International Relations Theory (Global IRT), both by Amitav Acharya, which is connected only by communication. The conceptions of diversity also do not go beyond mere multiplicity. All these conceptions in the wake of the French post-structuralisms have their strength in the critique as well as overcoming of totalitarian and authoritarian social relations or system constraints and discourses of power. However, since their own approach excludes borders per se, they cannot include any border of their respective approach. Diversity is wonderful and colourful – also the questioning and de-construction of the “normal” following Foucault has been an essential progress, just as tolerance is a moral value to be demanded always. The question, however, is where the limits of tolerance are – we should be far less tolerant of human rights violations, even if the understanding of human rights remains contested in different “cultures.”

Conclusion

From Thomas Hobbes we have learned that unlimited freedom leads to war of all against all, civil war. Freedom must therefore be limited in order to enable people to live together peacefully. But how can freedom be meaningfully limited without oppressing people? Kant’s solution, that my freedom ends where the freedom of the other begins, is a nice metaphor, but far from adequate when two or more parties lay claim to the same good in the broadest sense. The idea that it is not an oppression of freedom if it is limited only by the freedom of the other is a pure illusion. Even if in the wars and civil wars of the present, the refugee movements and in the worldwide slums, a human life seems to count for little, it must be maintained that all human beings have the same human rights, they are equally endowed with dignity and conscience. Freedom thus finds its limits not primarily in the freedom of others, but, since it is not an abstract freedom, rather one of human beings – thus in their fundamental equality as human beings and thus human rights. Following Hannah Arendt, one can say that freedom does not consist in arbitrariness, but in the right to be different from others. The path of humanity is shown here as self-preservation based in our equality and self-transgression in the freedom to differ from other humans. Such an understanding of the equality of us all as humans seem to contradict all current developments and appears as a kind of wishful thinking. But it is perhaps not just an idea of a better future, but the question how mankind could see itself as a wholeness in order to survive.

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Feature Image Credit: NDTV

June 5, 2022