Srikar Raghavan 

183602009 
Term Paper, Collective Social  
Total Word Count - 5033 
 
 
On Secularism, Nationalism, and Politics In India 
  
The transposition of religion into nationalism is but a recent phenomenon, traceable to the 
writings of the German philosopher Johann Gottlieb Fichte, in the early nineteenth century. 
Despite Atal Bihari Vajpayee’s vehement claims on the contrary, saying on one instance that “Our 
nationalism is as old as the Vedic declaration: ‘The Earth is my mother and and I am her son.’ For 
Western scholars, nationalism may be a modern concept, but for us, it is as old as our life in this 
land,” (Jaffrelot, 2007) the brand of nationalism that the Bharatiya Janata Party subscribes to, 
which Vajpayee championed and espoused, is, quite indisputably, a modern phenomenon. If one 
looks at the duality of the political scenario in India today, the two forces that seem to be 
contending with each other are, broadly speaking - secularism, fronted by the Congress, and 
Hindu nationalism, courtesy the BJP. Both the political ideologies are, to put it in simple terms, 
flawed, and have invited criticism from academics and the public alike. Whether they are equally 
flawed, or whether one can be said to have a moralistic edge over the other is a tough question to 
grapple with. In this paper, I will seek to flesh out and explicate the arguments and debates on 
both sides of the question, and attempt to put forth my own understanding of it all, after 
incorporating the opinions of various scholars on the subject. I will also attempt, to the best of my 
ability, to try and pinpoint where the bridge between this bipolarity exists, if it exists at all, and try 
to suggest a reasonable scheme of things of how that might work out in actuality. 
  
Ashis Nandy splits religion into faith and ideology; by religion, he means a way of life, and by 
ideology he means ‘a sub-national, national or cross-national identifier of populations contesting 
for or protecting non-religious, usually political or socio-economic interests.’ (Nandy, 1990) It is 
interesting to note, at least in the case of the modern Indian state, how Nandy’s criticism of 
secularism can be extended to its counterpart as well. He posits that the ‘modern state always 
prefers to deal with religious ideologies rather than with faiths.’ (ibid) This can be said to be true of 
the BJP ideology as well, in the sense that it effectively clubs the vast number of cults, sub-cults 
and practices of the people that call themselves Hindus under the rubric of one national identity, 
thereby ignoring the nuances and specificities of their distinct ways of living. ‘Religion-as-ideology, 
working with the concept of well-bounded, mutually exclusive religious identities, on the other 
hand, is more compatible with and analogous to the definition of the self as an individuated entity 
clearly separable from the non-self.’ (ibid.) The notions of self and non-self, which by virtue of his 
grounding as a psychologist Nandy understands very well, when viewed through the modern 
Hindutva lens, manifest themselves as the Hindu and the Muslim respectively. The point that 
Nandy is trying to make in his essay is that secularism is incompatible with the ‘fluid definitions of 
the self’ with which Indian cultures live. It is the self in conjunction with its anti-selves that define 
the self, and thus this demarcation of the self and the non-self is more compatible with 
religion-as-faith, which secularism shies away from, thereby making it untenable as a political 
schematic. 
  
This particular observation, wherein both the BJP and the Congress seem to share a common 
ground for criticism, is perhaps because Hindu nationalism seems to speak in several tongues at 
the same time, evident from Vajpayee’s dubious views on the subject. He writes, despite the 
obvious critique staring him in the face, that ‘The Jana Sangh champions the cause of an impartial 
state and does not believe in adopting any one mode of worship as the religion of the 
state.’(Jaffrelot, 2007) He also claims to embrace modernity, saying ‘ We have to make India a 
modern nation. We have to see that the latest research in the field of science and technology 
serves to make the life of the common man happy and prosperous.’ (ibid) There is definitely some 
merit to the latter statement. Like Nandy says, ‘The saving grace in all this is that while the 
scientific, rational meaning of secularism has dominated India’s middle-class public 
consciousness, the Indian people, and till recently most practising Indian politicians, have 
depended on the accommodative meaning.’ 1(Nandy, 1990) However, this conflicted mode of 
thinking about secularism problematises things. In an ideal society, politicians and policymakers 
would all be intelligent, careful, and precise when it comes to their understanding of secularism. 
But our current crop of political heads aren’t exactly what one might call intellectual mavericks. 
Recently, Satyapal Singh, the minister of state for Human Resource Development, and effectively 
responsible for Higher Education, stated that Darwinian evolution was a myth because none of the 
epics and puranas speak of ‘man turning into apes.’ After drawing flak, he continued to maintain 
his position, saying that he was a science student and had completed a PHD in Chemistry, and that 
the government would continue to try and bring in a new education system where ‘our ancestors 
are not apes.’2 Modi has, on several occasions, pointed out that plastic surgery existed in ancient 
India, evident from examples such as Karna and Ganesha, and that Rama flew the first aeroplane 
in history.3 These might seem trivial to the discerning eye, but my point is this - that a conflation of 
modernity and an entity such as Hindu nationalism which inevitably has to put forth throwbacks 
to medieval ages is impossible to achieve, and ridiculous to witness.The paradox begins when 
ideologues such as Modi become Janus-faced and claim to be supporting all fronts. The current 
state of science education in the country perhaps attests to this. Like Marx once said, where 
religion ends, philosophy begins; where alchemy ends, chemistry begins; where astrology ends, 
astronomy begins. However, Marxist thinking inevitably leads one back to the theory of economics 
and labour, and as T.N Madan says (with whom I find myself agreeing) “I am not wholly convinced 
when our Marxist colleagues argue that communalism is a result of the distortions in the economic 
base of our societies produced by the colonial mode of production and that the ‘communal 
question was a petty bourgeois question par excellence.’”(Madan, 1987) But I think that the 
Marxian notion of science and rationality, when not viewed from a purely economic lens, is worth 
inculcating, and will play a significant role in shaping society today, whether we like it or now, by 
sheer means of it having already pervaded society and taken a hold over public consciousness. I 
will return to this statement and elaborate on it later in this essay. 
  

1
​Nandy points out that the western notion of secularism is one which chalks out an area in public life where
religion is not admitted into, while the non-western, accomodative notion is that of ‘equal respect for all
religions’ in the public sphere.
2
https://scroll.in/latest/884798/i-am-not-a-child-of-monkeys-minister-satyapal-singh-again-questions-darwins-theory-of-ev
olution

3
​https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/oct/28/indian-prime-minister-genetic-science-existed-ancient-times
  
Coming back to Nandy’s critique of secularism, the main point he is trying to make, though, is I 
think this: ‘Much of the fanaticism and violence associated with religion comes today from the 
sense of defeat of the believers, from their feelings of impotence, and from their free-floating 
anger and self-hatred while facing a world that is increasingly secular and desacralized.’ (Nandy, 
1990) Secularism, by its very nature, provokes a sort of Newtonian opposite reaction from the 
other side by deligitimizing their beliefs; this is a point that merits attention. The secular state, 
Nandy argues, forces the religious individual to hide his belief in his public life, and his way of life is 
disrupted by this dissonance, which then manifests itself in the form of violence. T.N Madan also 
employs a similar criticism of secularism. He writes that, ‘Secularism is a social myth which draws 
a cover over the failure of the minority to separate politics from religion in the society in which its 
members live.’ (Madan, 1987) He also wants to point out that there existed no entity like 
fundamentalism in traditional society, and that this is only a product of the newfound ideas of 
secularism. However, he does not completely denounce the idea of secularism, but rather says, ‘ 
Secularism must be put in its place: which does not mean rejecting it but of finding the proper 
means for its expression. In multi-religious societies like those of South Asia, it should be realised 
that secularism may not be restricted to rationalism, that it is compatible with faith, and that 
rationalism (as understood in the West) is not the sole motive force of a modern state. What the 
institutional positions of such a position are is an important question and needs to be worked 
out…’ (ibid.) If one considers secularism as a rational, scientific mode of thinking, I would 
instinctively argue that it can be reconciled with religion, (though not with the distorted variant 
that is Hindu nationalism today), because it already has been by so many already, the most 
notable of them in the political sphere perhaps being Shashi Tharoor. Indeed, many leading 
scientists in the world are also religious too. Again, I will return to this point later in the essay. If 
one were to consider secularism as a more impersonal and political entity, where might this 
alternate vision of secularism lie? An interesting line of of thinking is put forth by Akeel Bilgrami, 
which I will explicate below. 
  
Bilgrami’s intervention in Nandy’s point of view is that he does not see secularism as a modern 
imposition upon a traditional society. Rather, ‘it is an imposition in the sense that it assumed that 
secularism stood outside the substantive arena of political commitments… It was not in there 
with Hinduism and Islam as one among substantive contested political commitments to be 
negotiated, as any other contested commitments must be negotiated, one with the other.’ 
IBilgrami, 1994) Bilgrami’s point is acutely creative and perceptive as well. He argues that 
Nehruvian secularism simply used the word as a cover, that actually hid the implicit assumption 
that there had occurred a productive internal dialogue between the communities, while in fact no 
such dialogue had taken place at all. He calls it ‘mere fraudulent labeling of a non-existing bridging 
argumentative link’ between compositeness and what he calls ‘substantive secularism’. If I had a 
draw a more relatable metaphor, one may think of it as a class teacher declaring that two young 
kids are friends, despite their internal differences, and making them sit next to each other in class, 
presenting the outward perception that all is well. However, all is not well, and the kids are 
conniving and conspiring against each other, and nothing has been done to allay their inner 
turmoils. Bilgrami’s point is that the reconciliation must come from within, by virtue of a dialogue 
between the two kids themselves; otherwise the whole exercise is a botched endeavour. He writes, 
‘It must emerge from the bottom up with the moderate political leadership of different religious 
communities negotiating both procedure and substance, negotiating details of the modern polity 
from the codification of law primarily to the distribution of such things as political and cultural 
autonomy, and even bureaucratic and industrial employment, etc…’ (ibid.) His argument is valid, 
and fair; however it hovers over the subject, without actually proceeding to deal with the 
nittie-gritties of it all. As an abstract point, it is deserving of merit, but Bilgrami doesn’t point out 
what he means by ‘the details of the modern polity’ or how political and cultural autonomy might 
be achieved within the domain of modern state institutions. For this, one must look elsewhere. 
  
Partha Chatterjee, in his essay titled ​Secularism and Tolerance, d ​ elves into this particular aspect a 
little deeper. He writes, ‘One of the dramatic results of this culmination of reformist desire within 
the nationalist middle class was the sudden spate of new legislation on religious and social 
matters immediately after Independence.’ (Chatterjee, 1994) Legislations on the matter of the 
entry of Dalits into Hindu temples, the delegitimisation of animal sacrifice, the law banning the 
tradition of Devadasis in temples, the Hindu Code Laws, are some of the examples he invokes to 
show how the modern state began interfering in the public religious sphere. The question 
becomes fraught with complexities here as it becomes difficult to draw a line between the secular 
and religious. Where does the modern secular state say that it will refrain from passing a 
judgement on a religious practice? Indeed, like Ambedkar once said, in a country like India, 
religion governs nearly every matter from life to death, and if the state has to make any legislation 
at all, it would be impossible to not tread upon religious ground. Chatterjee puts forth an 
argument towards the question concerning minority rights and how this might work out in 
actuality. Like Bilgrami, he too tackles the question from a bottom-up perspective, and by not 
subscribing to the view that the state is the ultimate arbiter of political decision making. This 
seems to me the more democratic way of looking at things. He starts by constructing an argument 
for an individual who wishes to defend the cultural rights of a minority group in the country. 
Firstly, the individual will say that ‘the minority group is not the invention of some perverse 
sectarian imagination: it is an actually existing category of Indian citizenship - constitutionally 
defined, legally administered and politically invoked at every opportunity.’ (ibid.)This is a fair 
enough way to begin the discourse. Next, ‘addressing the general body of citizens from her 
position within the minority group, our advocate will demand toleration for the beliefs of the 
group.’ But since this could potentially be an imposition on the minority group by herself, she 
would also ‘demand that the group publicly seek and obtain from its members consent for its 
practices, in so far as those practices have regulatory power over the members.’ (ibid.) Again, in 
theory, this is a fair way of going about things. If the practices have an internal assent within the 
community, and if, after more open and democratic debate within the forums of the community 
itself, the practice receives acceptance, the advocate can insist on public toleration of the practice. 
‘The appropriate representative bodies, she will know, could only achieve their actual form 
through a political process carried out primarily within each minority group. But by resisting, on 
the one hand, the normalizing attempt of the national state to define, classify and fix the identity 
of minorities on their behalf and demanding, on the other, that regulative powers within the 
community be established on a more democratic and internally representative basis, our 
protagonist will try to engage in a strategic politics that is neither integrationist nor separatist.’ 
(ibid.) On the whole, this theoretical thought experiment seems sensible and holds water. I have 
two things that I wish to point out here. Firstly, I wish to bring to consideration the rhetoric of 
toleration itself. The word toleration itself has very unpleasant connotations, and implicit in it is 
the notion that there is an undeniable disrespect and contempt for the other group, and that one 
just has to get over it and somehow adjust with it. To bring a modicum of civility to the whole 
affair, it might perhaps be productive to forego the notion of toleration in favor of a more ‘secular’ 
term. Of course, one might argue that the toleration between groups itself is an objective that 
constitutes a major achievement, but there is definitely something to be said of the way an 
internal dialogue is to be carried out, I feel. Secondly, the question of dialogue between two 
distinct ​communities is left out of the equation. Granted that the minority group has put forth its 
demand for toleration; how and where does the response to this emerge from? It cannot emerge 
from the state, since the state’s power to classify and sanction the legitimacy of the group’s 
practices has been countermanded. If it does emerge from the state, it must do so at the lowest 
possible level of governance. Therefore, there must be other groups - the majority group and the 
other minority groups in the geographical vicinity of the first group - that must take up this 
question as an internal debate of serious consideration in their own communities, and then 
proceed to come to a compromise with the first group; a local political dialogue must take place 
between the representatives of the community groups, and a sensible solution in the context of all 
the specificities of the particular situation. This would ideally assume that there are reasonable, 
practical-minded political representatives who are afforded the freedom to think for themselves, 
without any pressure from the state above. Again, the question somehow seems to fall down onto 
the education sector. This is where the ideal secular state plays its part - by ensuring good 
education and health to the population, and equipping it with the tools to deal with its local 
skirmishes and conflicts. Any trickling down of state ideology into local governance will upset the 
theoretical balance that this situation demands. All this is perhaps only idealist rhetoric, and might 
not be possible to realise in actuality, but as Chatterjee says, ‘faced with a potentially disastrous 
political impasse, some at least will prefer to err on the side of democracy.’ Now, theoretically 
arguing about governance and toleration and so on at a local level is worth it for its own sake. 
However, it ignores the inter-community dialogue that is happening across the nation at a much 
larger scale. Here, of course, I am referring to the power of social media in recent times, which is 
churning out an insane amount of propaganda material that is being deftly followed and shared 
across such platforms as Facebook, Whatsapp and so on. Insane would be one way to describe it, 
but they are also extremely inane, and grounded in very little fact. The instantaneous appeal of 
such click-bait material is unprecedented in history, and I feel any sociological discussion 
regarding religious and political discourse is incomplete in today’s world without touching on this 
aspect. There have been several reports of how the Modi government has employed Facebook 
posts as an effective medium of campaigning.4 In the sense Bilgrami is talking about, whereby a 
dialogue is built from the bottom-up, there is no way surer than social media of directly reaching 
to that bottom-most entity who is the impressionable individual, which is why I intend to delve 
into this subject a little, now. 
  
I propose to put forward a small analysis of social media posts, something traditions scholars have 
not embarked on, perhaps because of their non-tech-savviness, and something which I think falls 
on the current generation to take up, as they are simply more familiar with the workings of this 
new age apparatus. These posts reveal the dark passions of the keyboard warriors that are 
diligently at work in propaganda-making. It tells us precisely what level of conversation is 
happening, shaping the middle-class public viewpoint. There is one particular page on Facebook 

https://economictimes.indiatimes.com/news/international/world-news/inside-facebooks-political-unit-that-enables-the-d
ark-art-of-digital-propaganda/articleshow/62222158.cms
called ​Shankh Naad,​ that seems to wield a lot of political clout. It is a right-wing propaganda page 
and has around a million and a half followers. The page is subtexted ‘Activism. Nationalism. 
Dharma.’, and has a telling motto- ‘​There's no avoiding war. It can only be postponed to the 
advantage of your enemy.’​ A cursory look a the page is enough to supply one with the general 
flavour of the page’s ideology. In Nandy’s terms, the ​other, ​ie- Muslims, are the grave enemy, and 
nothing less than a violent struggle to fight them will solve anything. As I read the comments on 
the posts, a majority of which are in vehement approval of it, I cannot help but agree with Nandy 
that these are just psychological reactions against a perceived opposition, almost like a primeval 
human instinct. Everything is perceived in a tit-for-tat mentality. A ban on crackers during Diwali 
translates into a demand for ban on goat and cow slaughter. Another characteristic is a blatant 
criticism of Nehru, equating him with the Congress, which is yet another manifestation of the 
other. A​ ccording to Shankh Naad, Nehru is responsible for everything from the partition to the 
current hegemony of the Nehru-Gandhi family. According to one post, he is also unworthy of merit 
simply because he did not allow Sardar Patel to become Prime Minister. All in all, every possible 
cheap shot on the the ‘secular’ ideology is taken, and gleefully accepted by its followers and 
sharers. Liberals are dubbed ‘fiberals’, without having any clear idea of what a liberal means. I 
don’t think that this is a trivial matter; this is only one page of its kind, and these pages reach out 
to millions and millions of citizens who are effectively the voter base of the BJP. Even educated 
middle-class families, and I speak of this by referring to my own family members, subscribe to this, 
and share them around. It constitutes a very sizeable chunk of the population. A critique by say, a 
Nandy or a Bilgrami, is far too subtle for comprehension for this group; a more direct, aggressive 
form of criticism is at play here. And interestingly, there are very few pages that directly oppose 
this. The liberal, left-leaning sphere might comprise of most of the intellectuals and academics in 
the country, but on the social media front, right-wingers arguably take the cake as far as 
popularity goes. The discourse is unfavourably biased, and in all likelihood, is going to be 
increasingly so in the days to come. This, I think, is the gap that needs to be bridged, and in the 
remainder of this essay, I will try and see how best one may go about this, and attempt to redefine 
‘secularism’ in this context. 
  
Going back to the point I made earlier about science and rationality playing a significant role in 
defining secularism, I would argue that this would serve as an effective, and possibly the only 
medium of conversation that could bridge the secular and the religious. Keeping in the mind the 
positively stupid nature of right-wing propaganda, only a calm and reasoned discussion, pointing 
out the historical flaws in their arguments, as well as pointing out that the goals and motives of the 
Hindutva brigade are actually at parallels with Hindu traditions that these followers are trying so 
hard to uphold. Like Romila Thapar writes, ‘When fundamentalist groups speak about returning to 
pristine values, they ignore the fact that reconstructions of the past are determined by the needs 
of the present.’​(Thapar, 2018) ​Realisations such as these are only possible in the rhetoric of a 
rational discourse. A scientific education, by its very definition, would have to strive to develop 
and inculcate basic notions of logical and reasonable thinking. This would also mean that instead 
of trying to put in false Hindu notions of history into textbooks, students be allowed to explore 
what the truth is. Because, just to take one particular example, the truth is that there is an 
extraordinary system of logic and rationality that is built into Indian philosophical systems. Texts 
such as Advaita Siddhi by Madhusudhana Saraswati or Tattva Chintamani by Gangesa are just a 
couple of examples of the rational mode of thinking that existed in India much before it’s 
westernisation. Indeed, some of the rigorous philosophical doctrines in these texts predate 
western philosophy by centuries, which some papers by academics such as Nirmalya Guha have 
shown to be. There is much to be said about mathematics and scientific thought in ancient India 
as well. There may not have been plastic surgery in ancient times, but if one were to look in the 
right places, there are several real examples that can be celebrated by the Indian public at large. 
Promoting genuine academic and scientific research in this regard is bound to produce a healthier 
and more productive outlook on things. The conversation does not have to devolve into blatant 
name-calling and denunciation of personalities for political purposes. This can only come about 
through the exhortations of an informed public, and this is again something I feel academia must 
strive to do, because who else can? There must be more engagement on public forums on their 
behalf, and a dissemination of ideas to counteract meaningless drivel that is propagated by social 
media.   
  
  
Someone like a Christopher Hitchens or a Richard Dawkins would argue outright that religion and 
science are completely incompatible. But this viewpoint cannot practically be employed in a 
country like India. Like T.N Madan says, there has to be a blend of ideas, which I think there already 
has been. Now I speak purely from personal experience, but most of my family members are 
ardent believers in science, which is why I was encouraged to take it up in school as well. They are 
also quite orthodox and religious, and somehow they are capable of having two distinct areas of 
their brain, and keep both separate. My father is a nuclear scientist at BARC, but it makes his 
religious faith no less stronger. And this is true of several families that I’ve seen as well. Religion 
has a very strong attachment value, it is hard to let go of. And, the sciences too are intrinsically 
valued by the Indian populace, which is why it has spawned such a big public debate, and forced 
the BJP to include it in their discourse in the first place. Despite their best efforts to disregard 
Nehruvian ideals, his major contribution - that of inculcating a scientific temper - has, I think, 
taken substantial root in the country. The IITs might be not producing extraordinary scientific 
research, but the esteem with which they are perceived is enough evidence to indicate this. Also, 
modern figures such as an Abdul Kalam or a CNR Rao or a Nambi Narayanan have a widespread 
appeal across religions, which I think also speaks for the universality that it commands. Just as an 
interesting aside, one post on Shankh Naad calls for a renaming of Children’s Day in honour of 
Kalam, rather than Nehru. Science, as a sphere, in a sense somehow transcends these boundaries 
of religion and faith; it is revered as an entity in its own regard, away from all the political 
tomfoolery that is happening. If reason can be seen in science, then it can be extended to other 
dialogues as well, simply as a sensible and thought-out way of perceiving things. Politically 
speaking, this would mean that every decision taken at the centre would have to governed by 
rational principles; for instance a move such as demonetisation would have to have incorporated 
opinions of eminent economists, a reason as silly as saying that the matter had be kept a secret is 
not a valid justification for such a major decision. In matters such as the genital mutilation of 
Muslim girls, or the slaughter of cows, starting a scientific debate incorporating the opinions of 
biologists and zoologists would be a far more productive way of going about things. It would mean 
not taking any sides as far as religious views are concerned, and provide for an impartial and 
effective forum of debate. I like to think that since modern society is so undeniably dependant on 
science and technology, in every aspect of life, and since so many of its citizens subscribe to 
scientific values, if rational conversations and debates are set into motion, they would find a 
reasonable audience that would take part in it actively. I’m not saying that this would lead to easy 
or simple solutions, it would perhaps remain just as problematic as it is today. But it would be a 
more civilised, transparent, and democratic process if the public was encouraged to think this 
way, and contribute to the conversation. 
  
U.R Ananthamurthy writes, in his last book, Hindutva or Hind Swaraj, ‘People like Modi live in a 
Gumbaz, a dome that echoes what they say to themselves over and over again. This in itself is not 
new for India: the Congress leaders did that too.’ (p-23) He talks about the ideas of economic 
development that the current political model subscribes to, and how they are diluting ethical and 
moral values in favor of a ruthless, money-minded mentality. Since capitalism also effectively rules 
over the demands of the education system, I think this is making the current populace 
narrow-minded, ignorant, and ill-informed. The ideology at the centre becomes an impenetrable 
wall, the voices of the nation never reach the top. In summation, this is what I think a new version 
of secularism should aspire to be. It must replace the rhetoric of tolerance with one of 
understanding, acceptance, and mutual reconciliation. It must seek to be as transparent as 
possible, and encourage eminent intellectuals, scientists, and scholars to voice their reasoned 
opinions in their respective fields. Students and youth of the populace must be encouraged to take 
part in public forums, a healthy system of debate must be fostered. Addressing the question of 
religion and state, it seems to me that the notion of secularism as perceived by its proponents, has 
until now, never managed to separate the two. By incorporating the very idea of toleration of all 
regions as an ideology, it has brought religion into the political fold, where it proceeds to spawn 
further reactions from all other sides. A true separation of religion and state would occur only 
when every time a religious conundrum happens, the discourse is taken to a level above it, where 
humanism, empathy, and ethical considerations rule supreme. Such a situation could only be 
achieved within the contours of a rational and liberal framework, I would maintain. 
  
 
References 
 
1. Jaffrelot, C. (2007). ​Hindu Nationalism - A Reader​. Chapter -18,19 
2. Nandy, A. (1990) ​A Critique of Modernist Secularism, f​ rom Veena Das (ed.), ​Mirrors of 
Violence, ​OUP, Delhi, 1990, pg 329-341 
3. Madan, T. (1987). Secularism in Its Place. ​The Journal of Asian Studies,​ ​46​(4), 747-759. 
doi:10.2307/2057100 
4. Bilgrami, A. (1994). Two Concepts of Secularism: Reason, Modernity and Archimedean 
Ideal. ​Economic and Political Weekly,29​(28), 1749-1761. Retrieved from 
http://www.jstor.org/stable/4401458 
5. Chatterjee, P. (1994). Secularism and Toleration. ​Economic and Political Weekly,​ ​29​(28), 
1768-1777. Retrieved from ​http://www.jstor.org/stable/4401459 
6. Ananthamurthy, U. (2016). ​Hindutva or Hind Swaraj. Harper Collins 
7. Thapar, R. (2018). Redefining the Secular Mode for India. [online] Himal Southasian. Available 
at: https://himalmag.com/india-secularism-romila-thapar/ [Accessed 24 Nov. 2018].