Poonam Sharma
India is witnessing a moment of deep churn—political, cultural, and civilizational. The debate around Hindutva is no longer confined to academic seminars or ideological corners; it has moved decisively into the public square, into governance, elections, and everyday conversations. What we are seeing today is not merely a political campaign but a broader awakening of identity, confidence, and assertion among a large section of Indian society.
In recent years, a curious contradiction has become visible. On social media platforms, many individuals loudly proclaim that they are “not Hindu,” distancing themselves from any civilizational identity. Yet, in official spaces—government documents, job applications, census records, or legal affidavits—the same individuals continue to identify as Hindu. This duality raises an uncomfortable question: is identity a matter of convenience? If one benefits from constitutional recognition, social classification, or institutional structures as a Hindu, but disowns the same identity in public discourse, it reflects not dissent but hypocrisy.
History, as always, offers perspective. India is home to over 125 crore Hindus. Against this demographic reality, even if a few lakh people choose to reject the Hindu identity, it does not alter the foundational civilizational character of the nation. The idea that a small, vocal minority—often amplified through digital ecosystems—can dismantle or delegitimize Hindu civilization within India’s borders is misplaced. Demography alone does not define culture, but it certainly provides context to the confidence with which a society responds to internal challenges.
What unsettles many is not disagreement, but the fear of fragmentation. The memory of Partition still lingers—when ideological and religious divisions, supported by political movements like the Muslim League, led to the creation of Pakistan. Any contemporary rhetoric that echoes division or seeks to weaken India from within inevitably invites scrutiny. National unity, after all, is not sustained by suppressing debate but by confronting contradictions honestly.
Against this backdrop, Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sharma’s recent speech has sparked intense discussion. Whether one agrees with his words or not, it is undeniable that he spoke with clarity, conviction, and political courage. Calling himself a “Sanatani Hindu” openly, especially months before assembly elections, is not a casual statement. It reflects a calculated confidence—confidence in public sentiment, confidence in ideological clarity, and confidence in what he perceives as the rising strength of Sanatani consciousness in Assam.
Himanta Biswa Sharma is perhaps the first Chief Minister of Assam to articulate his civilizational identity so explicitly. In doing so, he has signaled a new phase in Assam’s political narrative—one that seeks to protect Assamese culture, religion, and civilization while acknowledging the diversity of tribal traditions. His message was not against indigenous practices; rather, it emphasized that all tribes are free to follow their traditional modes of worship. The concern he articulated was different: unchecked religious aggression and forced cultural dilution.
This is where the debate becomes uncomfortable but necessary. The tension between indigenous civilizational continuity and aggressive proselytization by Abrahamic religions has been a long-standing issue in parts of India. Addressing it openly requires political resolve. Sharma’s speech, controversial as it may be, sends a clear message that the state will no longer shy away from this conversation.
The mention of organizations like the Bajrang Dal also reflects a broader reality: Hindutva today is not merely an abstract idea; it has organizational strength, street presence, and mass support. Whether critics like it or not, this power cannot be ignored or wished away. Attempts to delegitimize it through labels or legal rhetoric have only strengthened its narrative of resistance.
Assam, under Himanta Biswa Sharma, appears to be positioning itself as a bulwark of Sanatani resurgence in the Northeast—much like West Bengal has become a battleground of ideological polarization under Mamata Banerjee. The difference lies in leadership tone. Where ambiguity once prevailed, assertion has taken its place.
Ultimately, the awakening of Hindutva is not about excluding others; it is about ending a long phase of cultural hesitation. A civilization that forgets how to speak about itself confidently risks being spoken for by others. Whether one supports or opposes this awakening, it is clear that a new India—politically self-assured and civilizationally vocal—is taking shape. And leaders like Himanta Biswa Sharma are not speaking in isolation; they are echoing a sentiment that has been quietly consolidating for years.
