My Learnings

One of the recurring problems in diverse societies is the relationship between identity and political power . When a community is a minority, it naturally becomes concerned about: equal rights; protection from discrimination; freedom of religion or culture; political representation; security; and the ability to preserve its way of life. But when that same community becomes the majority, something can change. It may begin asking: If we are the majority, why shouldn't our values shape the state? That transition is not unique to any particular religion, ethnicity or community. It is a broader problem of majoritarian power . When numerical strength becomes political ownership Give almost any identity enough political power and there is a temptation to convert numerical strength into political privilege. A religious majority may want the state to reflect its religion. A linguistic majority may want its language to dominate public life. An ethnic majority may define...

When India became independent in 1947, it inherited a problem that was much older than Partition. How could people belonging to different religions, languages, castes, regions and cultures live together in one political community without allowing the largest community to permanently dominate the smaller ones? The Muslim League had offered one answer. It argued that Muslims were not merely a religious minority but a separate political nation. If Muslims were to be secure, they needed political safeguards based on their identity—and eventually, in the League's view, their own state. But there was another answer. It was the idea that ultimately became the foundation of the Indian Republic: You should not need to belong to a political majority in order to be an equal citizen. That idea was extraordinarily ambitious. And if India can make it work in practice, it offers something much more powerful than separate political representation for every religious community. It offers a way out ...

As we watch films about Partition, I think we owe the people who lived through 1947 something more than a convenient version of history. We owe them remembrance. Perhaps the most humane way to remember Partition is to acknowledge that there was not one set of victims. There were Hindu families who were massacred in the areas that became Pakistan. There were Sikh families who suffered the same fate. There were also Muslims who were killed, driven from their homes and subjected to terrible violence in East Punjab and elsewhere. Millions survived—but lost their homes, their communities and often members of their families. Women were abducted and subjected to unimaginable violence. Children were separated from their parents. Entire villages and neighbourhoods disappeared. This was not an ordinary episode of communal tension. It was a human catastrophe. What Does the Historical Evidence Tell Us? With Main Wapas Aaunga bringing the trauma of Partition back into public discussion, perhaps it ...

I recently came across a video of a former Muslim arguing that Islam isn't really a religion but a political system of conquest — that Muslims preach tolerance as minorities and abandon it once they hold power. My first reaction was to reject this as a sweeping, unfair generalisation. I still do. Nearly two billion Muslims are not one political project, and I've seen no convincing evidence of some coordinated strategy to feign tolerance until the numbers turn. But dismissing the criticism outright isn't enough. There's an uncomfortable question buried inside it, and I think we owe ourselves an honest answer. The asymmetry As minorities in the West, Muslims rightly demand full religious freedom: to build mosques, preach, dress as they choose, raise their children in the faith, and invite others to it. That demand is legitimate and shouldn't be diluted. But in a number of Muslim-majority states, the reverse freedoms are constrained. Apostasy carries the death penalty ...

Many people today feel that democracy is failing. But perhaps democracy itself is not the problem. The real problem is that the environment in which democracy operates has changed dramatically, while its institutions have not. For most of modern history, influencing public opinion was difficult and expensive. A political leader had to persuade newspapers to publish their views, speak at public meetings, or appear on television. Information spread relatively slowly, giving journalists, experts, and opponents time to question claims, expose falsehoods, and offer alternative viewpoints. No single person or group could instantly influence millions of people. Today, that has changed. A message—true or false—can reach millions within minutes. AI can generate convincing fake videos and images. Social media algorithms reward outrage over accuracy because outrage keeps people engaged. Political campaigns can target different messages to different groups without public scrutiny. Wealth, data, an...

Human beings are remarkably complex, yet much of our behavior can be understood through a few fundamental needs. We seek the freedom to govern ourselves, the comfort of belonging, the security of well-being, the pursuit of truth, and the experience of happiness or fulfillment. In many ways, the story of civilization is the story of humanity's attempt to satisfy these five needs. Over thousands of years, we have built institutions to meet them. Yet a troubling pattern emerges: the very institutions created to serve human beings often drift away from their original purpose. The Need for Self-Rule: Democracy Human beings desire agency over their lives. We do not wish to be treated as mere subjects of kings, emperors, or dictators. To fulfill this need, societies developed democracy, constitutional government, and human rights. Democracy was meant to give ordinary people a voice in shaping their collective future. It represented a victory over arbitrary power. Yet many citizens today f...