Hindutva is no longer confined to political ideology, electoral campaigns, or organisational structures. Its influence is increasingly visible in the sounds, images, objects, festivals, and performances that shape everyday public life. From Hindutva pop and religious processions to the political symbolism attached to bulldozers and angry Hanuman stickers, the movement has developed what cultural theorist Brahma Prakash describes as a powerful aesthetic and sensory presence.
In his book Spectacle State: How Hindutva Shapes Feeling and CulturePrakash argues that contemporary Hindutva has moved beyond conventional political mobilisation to operate through culture, emotion, and participation. In this episode of Conversations with Nilanjan, The Federal spoke to Brahma Prakash, professor of theatre and performance studies at Jawaharlal Nehru University, about how Hindutva has evolved into what he calls a spectacular form of politics.
You have studied Hindutva through what you call its sensorial aspect — loudspeakers, bulldozers, religious processions, and other public spectacles. Why do you argue that Hindutva is fundamentally a performance, and what have journalists missed by focusing mainly on ideology, elections, and organisational structures?
I discuss in the book the formation of what I call a spectacular state. I teach cultural studies and popular performance culture, and I was observing what was happening on the ground, what was happening in my village, and how people were participating.
The way we observe festivals has changed significantly. Ram Navami existed earlier, but the way Ram Navami has evolved now, with Hindu pop and different kinds of DJs, is quite new to us. The same applies to different Hindu religious festivals.
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The bulldozer is not just a machine that excavates earth or performs some other function. It has become an artefact. The same thing is happening with the sword, which is now displayed during processions.
So, from festivals to our feelings, from food culture to dressing and clothing, we see that they are acquiring very different kinds of feeling and sensation.
For me, that has been a significant change. It is a marker of contemporary Hindutva. It is not the Hindutva of the 1980s, or of the 1990s, it is the Hindutva that has emerged after 2014.
Technology, particularly the mobile phone, has made it much easier to produce, circulate, and consume these spectacles. How important has technology been in this transformation?
The mobile phone has clearly changed the scale and speed at which these things can circulate. In the 1980s and even the 1990s, this was not the case. Now everything can be recorded, circulated, and reproduced almost instantly.
But technology is only one part of the transformation. The important point is that the cultural forms themselves have become much more widespread and accessible.
You describe Hindutva as a matter of hurt, heart, and art. Victimhood and the idea of a historical Hindu wound have been central to Hindutva politics. How does this idea of injury and revenge become part of spectacle?
The argument is that whenever it comes to questions of justice, there is an idea that we have this civilisational wound and therefore we need to take revenge.
Revenge becomes central. So, wound and victimhood almost become central categories for talking about Hindutva.
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We can also talk about sexual anxiety, which has been very much part of this thinking. There is an idea of the Muslim male dominating not only Hindu women but also the motherland. That has been part of the thinking around this wound.
You argue that religious events have evolved into highly coordinated, sometimes militarised public spectacles. How do sound, colour, and motion turn ordinary citizens into active performers of majoritarian power? How do they trigger emotions?
I draw a lot from the work of Christian Joppke and, particularly, Jeffrey Hansen’s work on Mumbai and the Shiv Sena, where there is an interesting argument about the creation of a perpetual crisis. The Shiv Sena would organise programmes every 15 or 30 days, creating events in which certain forms of violence or confrontation were enacted in the street.
You have Ram Navami, then another festival. You have constant programmes coming from above, and these programmes create an orchestrated emotional order in which people participate.
Sound is doing something very interesting. That is why I think Hindutva pop is not simply about Hindutva appropriating music or sound culture.
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If you look at the people participating in these songs and dances, you will find massive participation from subaltern communities. They are not necessarily inclined towards Hindutva ideology. They may simply be participating because it is part of their festival. It is a song they like. It is music they like. They want to dance.
You do not necessarily have to be ideologically convinced. You do not necessarily have to be part of the RSS or any Hindutva organisation. But you can still be part of the social culture of Hindutva.
You can become part of what I call the social fascism of Hindutva.