In recent years, a growing discourse has emerged around the nature of liberalism in India—particularly among the urban, educated, and often upper-caste Hindu elite. A provocative assertion circulating in certain circles claims that Indian liberals are not truly rooted in liberal thought as their Western counterparts are. Instead, they are described as Hindus with financial means who have adopted liberal rhetoric not out of ideological conviction, but out of social discomfort or shame in openly practicing their religion in public. This claim, while controversial, raises important questions about identity, ideology, and authenticity in contemporary Indian intellectual life.
The Myth of Intellectual Continuity
Western liberalism, as it evolved from Enlightenment ideals, is grounded in principles such as individual rights, secular governance, freedom of expression, and skepticism toward established hierarchies. It emerged from a historical context where religious authority was challenged by rationalist and humanist philosophies. In contrast, Indian liberalism, particularly as expressed by many urban, English-speaking, middle- to upper-class Hindus, often appears to be a hybrid—a fusion of Western terminology and values grafted onto an existing socio-religious framework.
Critics argue that this form of liberalism lacks deep philosophical roots. Rather than being an extension of critical inquiry into justice and equality, it becomes performative—a kind of moral posturing that serves more as a shield against criticism than a genuine commitment to progressive ideals. As one observer notes, “They make the mistake of thinking Indian liberals are intellectually rooted in liberal thought like their Western counterparts. Whereas Indian liberals are Hindus with money, who are just ashamed to practice their own religion ‘as is’ in public.”
This perspective suggests that Indian liberalism is not born from a rigorous engagement with liberal philosophy, but from a desire to align with global trends while maintaining internal cultural continuity. It is a liberalism of convenience—adopted not because of its intrinsic logic, but because it provides a socially acceptable way to distance oneself from traditional practices perceived as backward or regressive.
The Brahminical Undercurrent
The term “Brahminical” here refers not only to the priestly caste but also to a broader cultural ethos characterized by ritual purity, hierarchical social structures, and a reverence for tradition. Many Indian liberals come from this background, having been raised within systems that emphasize education, Sanskrit, Vedic rituals, and caste-based privilege. Yet, when these individuals adopt liberal stances—on issues like gender equality, secularism, or minority rights—they often do so selectively, sometimes even contradicting their own cultural foundations.
For instance, while publicly advocating for women’s empowerment, some may privately uphold patriarchal family structures. Or while condemning religious extremism, they might continue to participate in rituals that reinforce caste distinctions. This duality reveals a tension between public performance and private belief—one that critics see as hypocritical, and others as a necessary evolution.
But is this hypocrisy? Or is it simply the complex reality of navigating modernity without fully abandoning tradition?
Shame and Secrecy: The Public-Private Divide
The idea that Indian liberals are “ashamed” to practice their religion publicly reflects a deeper societal shift. In a country where religion remains deeply intertwined with identity, political power, and social belonging, being visibly Hindu—especially in ways that reflect traditional customs—can be politically risky. In the age of hyper-partisan discourse, overt religiosity can be equated with nationalism or conservatism, especially when aligned with movements like Hindutva.
Thus, some well-off Hindus may choose to express their beliefs through a secularized, “enlightened” lens—embracing liberal language as a way to signal progressiveness while avoiding scrutiny. Their critiques of caste, patriarchy, or communalism may feel authentic, yet they are often framed in ways that do not challenge the core structures of their own upbringing.
This creates a paradox: the very people most capable of challenging Brahminical dominance are themselves products of that system, using Western-derived ideologies to critique it—not necessarily to dismantle it, but to reframe it in a palatable manner.
No Ideological Grounding?
The claim that there is “no ideological grounding to their rants” strikes at the heart of this debate. Are Indian liberals truly committed to liberal principles, or are they merely mimicking them?
On one hand, there are genuine intellectuals and activists who engage critically with both Indian traditions and global liberal thought. They draw from diverse sources—Indian philosophy, feminist theory, Marxist analysis—to build nuanced arguments for social justice. These voices represent a legitimate, if still emerging, form of indigenous liberalism.
On the other hand, there is a significant segment whose liberalism seems reactive rather than reflective. They oppose majoritarianism not because of a principled defense of pluralism, but because they fear losing influence in a changing political landscape. Their support for secularism may stem less from belief in separation of church and state, and more from anxiety over the rise of religious nationalism.
In this light, the accusation that Indian liberalism lacks ideological grounding is not entirely unfounded. When liberalism becomes a lifestyle choice—a marker of cosmopolitanism rather than a worldview—it risks becoming shallow and self-serving.
Conclusion: Toward Authentic Engagement
The challenge for Indian society is not to dismiss liberal voices outright, but to demand greater consistency and depth. If we are to build a truly inclusive democracy, we must move beyond performative liberalism and engage in honest conversations about our past, present, and future.
Can a person who celebrates Diwali at home but condemns religious festivals in public be considered a true liberal? Can someone who benefits from caste privilege advocate for equality without acknowledging their positionality?
These are uncomfortable questions—but they are essential ones. True liberalism, whether Indian or Western, cannot thrive on contradiction or silence. It requires courage, self-reflection, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths—even when those truths lie within one’s own community.
Until then, the label “liberal” in India may remain more of a badge of status than a beacon of principle. And that, perhaps, is the greatest mistake of all.
