Politics on posters: The contested space of religion in India

After 2014, when Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party came to power, the political rhetoric of “Hindus in Danger” was injected into the heart and soul of Mother India. This narrative, consistently propagated, has been used as a potent tool to convince large sections of society of its supposed truth. The result has been a dangerous surge in communalism and polarization, leaving Muslims with a deep sense of insecurity about their place in the republic.

India’s first and longest-serving Prime Minister, Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, was unequivocal in his writings and speeches that communalism—whether of Hindu or Muslim—is detrimental to society. However, he stressed that Muslim communalism could never dominate Indian society or impose fascism; only Hindu communalism had the potential to do so. His message to Hindus was clear: India’s survival as a united nation depends on how they uphold the legacy of secularism, win the trust of Muslim minorities by embracing them as their own, safeguard their rights, and thereby protect the nation from internal fractures and external threats.

Yet in politics, the art of gaining power often depends on the strategy of saam, daam, dand, bhed (persuasion, bribery, punishment, division). Its impact on the state and its people is rarely a concern for political figures. One of the most common tools used in a democracy to maintain power is religious populism. This dangerous phenomenon not only weakens affirmative action policies but also risks undermining the very foundations of democracy and secularism embedded in the Constitution.

A recent example unfolded in Kanpur over an “I LOVE MUHAMMAD” poster displayed during the Barawafat (the twelfth of Rabi al-Awwal, also believed to mark the Prophet Mohammad’s death). The dispute over the poster triggered violence and victimization in several Indian cities, including those in Uttar Pradesh, Telangana, and Maharashtra. 

The history of Hindu–Muslim relations in India has long been fragile and sensitive, with this vulnerability well documented over time. From ancient to modern India, nearly every ruler has held their own set of beliefs, priorities, and political ideas. These ideological leanings, whether secular, religious, or somewhere in between, have directly shaped their approach to governance. As a result, politics and governance have often been linked with ideology, which has repeatedly sustained the communal divide between Hindus and Muslims. British rulers very effectively exploited this religious divide as a tool of political strategy. Rather than resolving these divisions, leadership throughout history has, in various ways, allowed them to re-emerge, making communal harmony an ongoing challenge that India continues to face.

During the Medieval period, Hindus—labelled as kafirs (disbelievers)—were often treated unfairly for rejecting belief in one God. In *Indo-Islamic Thoughts and the Issue of Religious Coexistence*, Professor Emeritus Irfan Habib (AMU) cites a debate between Akbar and Jahangir on Surah Al-Kafirun (a chapter of the Qur’an), which advocates religious coexistence but was misinterpreted by Islamic scholars of the time to justify the mistreatment of Hindus for their own convenience. Jahangir strongly criticised this, arguing that such an interpretation contradicted the actual words of the Qur’an. Habib further notes that, in Indian history, the same kafirs were later reclassified as zimmis (protected) once they agreed to pay taxes, after which they were allowed to worship their own deities. This practice dates back to the Arab conquest of Sindh (712–714 CE). It illustrates how religion was historically used as a tool: first to dominate Hindus under Mughal rule, and later reinterpreted when politically expedient. The concept of the “religion of convenience” is therefore not new in India’s discourse.

However, unlike the autocracy and lawlessness of the Medieval era, today’s India is governed by laws and democracy. The reason for recalling this historical example is to show how fundamentalists once used religion to gain support from majoritarian groups and their rulers. In the current context, if the same strategy is employed to attract majorities for political power and secure their votes, it risks weakening both democracy and the Constitution. The politics of fear and victimhood is as dangerous and disastrous for the majority community as it is for a religious minority. 

The tradition of Muslims peacefully practising their religion has increasingly come under scrutiny in today’s India, amidst rising intolerance across the country. The constitutional right to freely practise one’s religion is gradually being eroded, and its validity is repeatedly questioned. The problem here is not just the inevitable conflict between communities, but something far deeper—the way in which the state itself seems to act not as a neutral protector of rights but as a participant, aligning with the majoritarian sentiment and silencing the voices and practices of minority Muslims.

This raises a fundamental question of equality. If large banners of Shri Ram or Lord Jagannath can be freely displayed in the heart of any Indian city without objection, then why is a simple poster declaring “I Love Muhammad” seen as a provocation? The inconsistency highlights not only a double standard but also the shrinking space for Muslims to publicly express their faith without fear of reprisals.

The most troubling development following this controversy was the speech delivered by Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath at a political rally. Instead of easing tensions, he directly targeted Muslims, warning them of serious consequences. He even linked the incident, in a mocking and inflammatory manner, to Gazwa-e-Hind (a so-called “holy war on India” which lacks any legitimate religious basis), threatening Muslims with hellfire. Such rhetoric trivialises serious governance with childish provocation. It highlights the dangerous craft of political manipulation: magnifying a small issue into a major crisis, polarising society, and attacking India’s cherished principle of fraternity.

In today’s India, Muslims no longer place their primary hopes on securing a share of economic benefits or policy measures, the proverbial “piece of cake” from government schemes. Their aspirations have shifted drastically. The central concern of the community is now reduced to the basics—security, dignity, and survival. For a democracy that promises equality before the law and freedom of religion, this shift represents not only a political failure but a moral crisis for the nation. Since our political leadership refuses to confront this evil of religious intolerance, it's high time that civil society stands united and makes its voice heard, not only to save our democracy but also to preserve our culture and legacy as the most tolerant and inclusive society in the world.
As the renowned Hindi poet Gopaldas Neeraj stated, “ab to mazhab koi aisachalaya jai/ Jis men insan ko insanbanayajaae” (Let's invent a new religion now, which turns a man into a human).