Raj Shekhar Sen 
In 2024, the world witnessed a remarkable surge in global elections, with over fifty countries, including India and other major democracies, heading to the polls this year. As India’s election dust settles, a familiar debate has surfaced: the 18th Lok Sabha has the least number of Muslim representation.
Even more so there seems to be no space for Muslims in the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). Of the 430 BJP candidates, only one was Muslim, and had he won, he’d have been the sole Muslim MP from the saffron party in the lower house. A direct reminder that in the BJP’s vision of India, their conservative impulse is indelibly tied to their Hindu nationalist identity, which is somewhat a contrast to the conservative parties in other major democracies on ballot this year, where some diversity and inclusivity are begrudgingly acknowledged as essential to the political landscape.
The UK’s Conservative Party was led by a Hindu, while Donald Trump’s re-election bid banks on the unlikely surge in his popularity among African Americans and Latinos, his primary Republican rivals included two people of Indian origin and one African American. In the global democratic order of conservative politics, the BJP stands out as an unapologetic bastion of religious nationalism, its doors firmly barricading the Muslim ‘other’.
As we examine Modi 3.0, it’s essential to understand how the BJP has cultivated a unified Hindu vote bank, allowing them to thrive, especially in contests without a third party rival. This approach has effectively made the 100 million Muslims in the North and West Indian belt (Madhya Pradesh, Gujarat, Chhattisgarh, Rajasthan, and Delhi) electorally irrelevant. It is important to understand the forces that have contributed to the erasure of Muslim voting power in a significant portion of India.
The disappearing value of the Muslim vote
One of the recurring themes in the recent election campaign by the BJP was the accusation that the Congress and the INDIA alliance is there to help only the Muslims. Pakistan was used as a pejorative to vilify Indian Muslims even by the prime minister. The BJP has always accused Muslims of having a unified vote bank, against them that blindly backs the Opposition, which is, while not incorrect, fascinating. For, if we were to turn the lens inward, and examine the BJP’s own electoral fortunes, an interesting tale emerges. Using Bhopal and Vadodara as samples, two strongholds of the saffron brigade, the numbers tell a tale of a Hindu vote that is eerily unified, a phalanx of ballots that coalesces with eerie precision behind the BJP.
In Bhopal, where Hindus constitute 69% of the population, a whopping 65.5% voted for the BJP, a figure that potentially suggests a near-total capture of the Hindu vote. Similarly, in Vadodara, where 85% of the population is Hindu, a staggering 72.04% voted for the BJP.
The quantitative assumption here is based on what the BJP itself says about the Muslim vote bank being with the Opposition. Bhopal was picked because it has the fame of sending Pargya Thakur to parliament in 2019 and Vadodara because the Gujarat disturbed areas act has led to five cases in the Gujarat high court from Vadodara shrinking housing options beyond ghettos for Muslims in the city. So, it would seem, then, that the BJP’s accusations of a unified Muslim vote bank are little more than a projection of their own remarkable success in corralling the Hindu vote, a triumph that speaks to the party’s ability to tap into the deepest anxieties and fears of a divided society.
So, how was this Hindu vote bank made? The answer in one line is by the process of Muslim dehumanisation and otherisation which was then sold to them as appeasement.
Partition and Muslim otherisation
When discussing Muslim marginalisation, a common refrain emerges usually from the whatsapp uncles: “Why do “they” sequester themselves in isolated enclaves, mini-Pakistans?” This question, often posed by armchair philosophers, implies that Muslims are to blame for their own exclusion. However, the truth lies in the systemic inequalities engineered against them.
In Contested Homelands, Nazima Parveen explores how Jawaharlal Nehru and Vallabhbhai Patel disagreed over Delhi’s post-Partition landscape, with Nehru supporting temporary segregation of Muslims in designated areas for their safety and protection. The government transferred Muslims to these “Muslim zones”, with some forcibly evacuated, and implemented measures like intensified patrolling to restore confidence.
This “risk management” strategy divided areas into Hindu-dominated, Muslim-dominated, and mixed categories. For the first time, areas were involuntarily arranged along these lines, with the numerical strength of the community in crisis becoming a key administrative principle in official discourse.
But in the Manichean worldview of Hindu nationalists, these spaces were perceived as usurpations, excrescences on the sacred body of Hindu India, on the other side secular India’s expectations of Muslims were no less draconian — to shed their very identity, like a skin that no longer fit, and merge with the mainstream. And so, the Indian-ness of Muslim identity remained inextricably entwined with Pakistan, a concept that served as both a tool for Hindu nationalists to pursue their dream of Akhand Hindu Rashtra and a political imperative for Indian secularism to protect its Muslim minorities, a perpetual minority, forever trapped in the liminal space between belonging and exclusion.
Post partition riots and further ghettoisation
India has long been scarred by the fissures of communal violence, a legacy that predates the birth of the nation itself. From the charred remains of Bhagalpur to the blood-soaked streets of Nellie, from the ravaged localities of Mumbai to the smoldering embers of Gujarat, and more recently, the mayhem in the neighbourhoods of Delhi, the specter of rioting has always haunted India, also acting as a grim reminder of the state’s complicity. In many instances, the guardians of the state have stood by, as one side wreaked havoc on the other, their bias fairly visible.
In cities where riots are frequent and devastating, rich and poor Muslims live together for safety, forming ghettos that combine features of enclaves and slums. Poor Muslims, easy targets, migrate first, followed by the rich once they’re affected. Juhapura, a ghetto of four-five lakh people, grew after riots in 1969, 1985, 1992, and 2002, when elite Muslims, including former MP Ehsan Jafri, were killed. Jafri’s death was well-known among Muslims nationwide. So, in response to the state being largely absent, many Muslims have chosen to live in ghettos, as a mechanism against extreme violence. India has these festering pockets of isolation, be it Ahmedabad’s Juhapura, Mumbai’s Mumbra and Mira Road, Delhi’s Shaheen Bagh — these enclaves serve as a reminder of how a community has been forced into seclusion.
This forced isolation allows for an infestation of dehumanisation and also makes it easy to target specific areas during times of conflict. As they did in the recent Delhi riots, these isolated enclaves become easy prey, left to burn while the broader city remains eerily unaffected, the violence hidden from the majority’s gaze, violence that largely unfolds in the shadows of these ghettos.
Who benefits from violence?
Research by Sriya Iyer, Anand Shrivastava, and others has analysed the impact of Hindu-Muslim riots on Indian elections, revealing several key findings. Riots that occur in the year preceding an election lead to a 5-7% increase in the BJP’s vote share. Additionally, in a paper titled “Do parties matter for ethnic violence? Evidence from India,” three political scientists from Yale University — Gareth Nellis, Michael Weaver and Steven Rosenzweigel — conclude that electing an MP from the Congress party reduces the chances of ethnic strife by 32%, while electing the BJP increases them by 10%.
Furthermore, work by Sonia Bhalotra reflects that a higher share of Muslim politicians in state assemblies results in a significant decline in Hindu-Muslim riots. If the Congress had lost all the elections between 1960 and 2000, India would have experienced 11% more riots and 46% more casualties. The research also shows that riots preceding assembly elections lead to a 1.3% decline in the Congress vote share and a 0.8% increase in the BJP’s vote share. Overall, the study suggests that the majority identity party (BJP) has a clear incentive to incite ethnic tensions.
As per Iyer and Shrivasta, “The most important implication of our work is that it provides a basis for the argument that the majority identity party has a clear incentive to incite ethnic tensions.” And as we saw in Delhi and Gujarat before and have seen all through human history, deliberate ghettoisation and marginalisation makes violence easier and cleaner.
The most deliberate attempt at marginalisation, the Gujarat government’s Disturbed Areas Act
A prominent example of this is the Gujarat government’s Disturbed Areas Act, introduced in 1985. Despite initial intentions to protect vulnerable individuals during communal violence, the law has been renewed every three years, even in the absence of violence. It empowers the collector to prohibit property sales that might disrupt demographic equilibrium or lead to polarisation, effectively denying Muslims property ownership in “disturbed” areas.
The law has been expanded to more areas, and its violations of Muslims’ constitutional rights have been challenged. Despite claims of bringing peace, the BJP government’s actions perpetuate communal segregation and polarisation, confining Muslims to segregated areas in cities like Ahmedabad, Vadodara and Surat.
Also read: 9.23 Things to Think About as We Look at the 2024 Election Results
The law has been amended twice, in 2009 and 2019, granting the collector discretionary powers to halt sales and impose severe penalties, including a six-year jail term, which was initially set at six months when the law was first introduced. This has resulted in a striking paradox — foreigners are permitted to acquire property in these areas, while Gujarati Muslims are barred from doing so.
Although activists have contested the law’s constitutionality, pointing to state reports that highlight communal harmony, the government has nonetheless broadened the law’s scope to encompass additional areas. Authorities now deny permission for property purchases in “communally sensitive” zones, even in the absence of violence. Now, under the law it does not matter even if the sale was with free consent, and the fair value was paid to the owner.
The nature of prejudice
The ghettos of Indian society are not just physical, but also social, educational, and cultural — the spatial ghettos, with their crumbling brick and mortar, confine “the other” to islands of neglect, where opportunities are distant. The social ghettos, be they workplace or universities with their invisible yet impenetrable barriers, segregate them from the mainstream, denying them access to the shared spaces and institutions that shape our collective narrative.
The educational ghettos, with their separate and unequal schools, funnel them into a future that is already foreclosed, depriving them of the chance to grow, to thrive, to soar. And the cultural ghettos, by the way they are portrayed in cinema and art with their erasures and silences, rob them of their identities, their histories, their very voices.
In his work, The Nature of Prejudice, Gordon Allport underscores the crucial role of intergroup contact in mitigating prejudice. Allport argues that when majority and minority groups interact on an equal footing, facilitated by institutional support and a shared pursuit of common goals, social barriers can be effectively bridged. This contact enables the development of a shared sense of humanity, fostering a deeper understanding and empathy that can help counteract prejudice.
However, the creation of ethnic ghettos stands in stark opposition to this idea, perpetuating physical and social segregation that reinforces harmful stereotypes and divisions. By confining minority groups to spatially isolated and economically disadvantaged areas, ghettos limit opportunities for meaningful intergroup contact, entrenching prejudice and undermining the very foundations of a harmonious and inclusive society. In this way, the existence of ethnic ghettos poses a significant obstacle to the prejudice reducing potential of intergroup contact, highlighting the need for policies and initiatives that actively promote integration and social cohesion.
Why do conservatives hate shared spaces
The reason conservatives oppose any sort of intermingling is because they know intermingling and shared spaces can lead to a humanising effect. That is also why they have problems with institutions like the Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) and Jadavpur University where all of the marginalised “others” are somewhat more visible, that is why they oppose diversity measures like reservations, or cinema that portrays marginalised groups in a humane light, precisely because they create spaces for intermingling and understanding.
This opposition stems from a desire to maintain isolation and perpetuate dehumanising narratives about out-groups. Even initiatives like the Right to Education Act, which reserves 25% of private school seats for marginalised students, face strong middle-class resistance, revealing a deep-seated discomfort with the idea of intergroup contact and social mixing.
It is clear that an average Indian Hindu especially if they have social and caste capital can essentially live a whole life without ever intersecting with a soul who does not mirror their own identity. This vacuum of human connection, this void of empathy, allows for the insidious conditioning of minds to dehumanise the experiences of the ‘other’. Add to that Pakistan will always serve as a convenient bogeyman, perpetuating not just apathy but a virulent hatred towards the Muslim community.
Path forward
We who yearn for a more inclusive India must resist this dehumanisation, must confront it in the intimate spaces of our homes, our schools, and our offices. We must strive to create zones of encounter, where diverse voices can converge — in the realm of art, in the struggle for fair housing laws, in the pursuit of desegregated public spaces.
For we are raising generations of citizens who inhabit solitary islands, their interactions with the ‘other’ reduced to moments of unequal power dynamics. The battle for progressive ideals is a battle for diversity in our educational institutions, for interfaith and inter-caste alliances, for a world where the humanity of the ‘other’ is not a distant abstraction but a visceral reality. In this world, conservatives cannot peddle their poison of division, for the humanity of the ‘other’ stares back at us, a mirror to our own souls. Our value as progressives lies not in converting others but in our unwavering commitment to the struggle for a world where every life is precious, every voice is heard, and every physical and social space, a testament to our shared humanity.
Raj Shekhar Sen is based out of San Francisco and works in the area of data privacy regulations. He also occasionally contributes as a freelancer writing on politics and runs a podcast on politics called the Bharatiya Junta Podcast.