Former Madras High Court judges K. Chandru and Hari Paranthaman, who today are nothing less than DMK stooges have called for the impeachment of Justice GR Swaminathan giving flimsy reasons that he is an RSS ideologue, believes in the Vedas, participates in RSS events and what not.

“A High Court judge cannot behave like H Raja or Governor RN Ravi. Political ideology, if any, must never enter judicial pronouncement“, said Hari Paranthaman.

K. Chandru who is known for his casteist remarks against Brahmins and had even made sexist remarks against Nirmala Sitharaman had said “He behaves as if he is the propaganda secretary of the RSS and its other outfits. He freely attends their meetings and gives lectures denigrating the Constitution under which he had taken his oath of office. His speeches in various forums regarding having belief in the Vedas are to the least expected of a sitting judge.”

For weeks now, DMK leaders and Dravidianists have been running a coordinated whisper campaign that Justice GR Swaminathan is “right-leaning”, “Hindu-leaning”, or “connected to Hindu Munnani.”

There is no proven evidence that Justice Swaminathan currently belongs to, works for, or acts on behalf of Hindu Munnani.
None. Not a single official document, not a single judicial finding, not a single institutional report.

The Dravidiods cite a The News Minute interview from 2015 when GR Swaminathan was a judge.

However, they seem to have only twisted his words. He has only said that he follows the Hindu Munnani’s ideology and has not claimed to be a part of it. What’s Hindu Munnani’s ideology? To protect Hindu rights and Hindu temples, prevent religious conversion and make Hindus self-aware about being united.

Even if he once spoke at cultural events, that does not amount to organisational membership, and certainly not “ongoing affiliation.”

GR Swaminathan himself has told that he attends seminars organized by Pa. Ranjith’s Neelam organization but no on questioned him then.

Yet the same people who are baying for impeachment over imaginary affiliations suddenly pretend to lose their voice when far stronger, far historically documented political backgrounds of other judges are brought up.

If association, real or alleged, is their standard, then the Dravidianists must first explain their decades-long silence on the following names.

The Hypocrisy Index: Judges With Open, Documented Political Or Ideological Histories

#1 Justice K Chandru – Full-time Communist Party cadre

Before elevation, Justice Chandru was a full-time CPI(M) worker, a student leader of SFI, a public face of Left activism for decades.

No Dravidianist ever objected.
No impeachment petitions.
No editorials claiming “partisanship.”

Why? Because he leans in their preferred ideological direction.

And to the BJP’s credit, they never cried foul or moved impeachment motion against Chandru for being a Leftist-Dravidianist ideologue and sitting as a judge.

Justice GR Swaminathan delivered approxiamtely 30 judgements per day (and ongoing) during his 7 year tenure as the permanent judge of the Madurai Bench of Madras High Court.

The reason why Justice GR Swaminathan of the #MadrasHighCourt is the darling of the Madurai Bar is his impressive case disposal statistics. He has disposed of 73,505 main cases in the last eight years & does not hesitate to begin court at 9 am & continue till late evenings. pic.twitter.com/xdZK0yeGqJ

— Mohamed Imranullah S (@imranhindu) December 10, 2025

Even today, Justice Chandru is seen at DMK/DK/VCK related events, he was also the one-man committee that wrote a shoddy report on “eradicating caste” in Tamil Nadu following a spate of caste-based killings and attacks in the state – his solution? Removing tilak from everywhere and everybody – just what the DMK wanted.

#2 Justice S Ratnavel Pandian – Former DMK District Secretary

This is not a rumour. This is documented political history.

Justice Pandian served as DMK Tirunelveli District Secretary, then became a Madras High Court judge, and went on to become a Supreme Court judge.

He was district secretary/general secretary of the DMK in the undivided Tirunelveli district in the 1960s.​ He contested the 1962 Assembly election from Ambasamudram as a DMK candidate and lost.​ He contested again from Cheranmahadevi in 1971, lost narrowly, and then quit electoral politics. During the anti‑Hindi agitations, when M Karunanidhi was jailed in Palayamkottai prison, Pandian is recorded as visiting him regularly as a party functionary. Only after this DMK stint was he brought into key legal posts – Appointed State Public Prosecutor in Madras High Court in August 1971, held that post till elevation as judge in February 1974.​ He was elevated as judge of Madras High Court (1974), later acting Chief Justice (1988), then judge of the Supreme Court of India (1988–1994).

Judiciary was not biased then?

Why? Because he belonged to their political family.

#3 Justice D. Hariparanthaman — Anti-BJP ‘Activist’ Post-Retirement

Since retirement, he has participated in political rallies, signed joint statements with parties and movements, taken public positions on issues that are anti-Hindu. If he is so vocal and virulent about the Dravidianist ideology now, after retirement, one only wonders how much he would have been influenced by it when he was still in office.

Here is a look at his order that favoured the Dravidianist ideology. In April 2015, the then Madras High Court Justice D Hari Paranthaman overruled a police ban and allowed Dravidar Kazhagam to conduct its controversial “mangalsutra removal and beef banquet” event, citing protection of freedom of expression under Article 19 as the court’s priority. He quashed the Assistant Commissioner’s prohibitory order and directed police to provide protection for the April 14 programme.

All this is sidelined and instead, his political alignments are treated as a badge of honour.

#4 Justice N Senthil Kumar – Govt Advocate

Son of former DMK MLA KS Sankaravalli, this sitting judge first served as a Government Advocate (writ side) in 2007, before being elevated to Additional Government Pleader (writ side) between 2009 and 2011 – both times the DMK was in power.

In fact, his neutrality became a point of discussion during the Karur TVK stampede when the judge made scathing remarks against actor and TVK chief Vijay.

But the DMK invokes “neutrality” when they want to target someone who refuses to bend before them.

So Why the Selective Outrage Against Justice GR Swaminathan?

Because Justice Swaminathan has done the one thing Dravidianists cannot tolerate – He refuses to be intimidated.

He has authored judgments that uphold temple rights, question administrative overreach, protect religious freedoms, and refuse to accept Dravidianist dogma as constitutional gospel.

And to top it all, he is a “parpaan” in their view, a Brahmin, a community against whom their ideologue EV Ramasamy Naicker had genocidal hate.

In Dravidianist politics, this alone is enough to brand someone “Hindutva,” “right-wing,” “RSS,” or “Sanghi.”

The I.N.D.I bloc’s petition seeking his impeachment for “partisan orders” was nothing but a political stunt – a message to every neutral, fair, and just judge in India: “Rule as we want, or we will try to destroy your reputation.”

That is political intimidation disguised as moral outrage.

If political identity is the concern, then start with your own icons. If the Dravidianists truly believe a judge’s alleged ideological past disqualifies him, then why was a full-time Communist cadre (Justice Chandru) elevated? Why was a DMK District Secretary (Justice Ratnavel Pandian) welcomed into the High Court and Supreme Court?

You cannot run a judiciary on one set of rules for comrades and another set for those who respect Hindu traditions.

Enough. Time To Shut This Manufactured Narrative Down.

Dravidianists have zero moral standing to question Justice Swaminathan’s neutrality when judges with open, documented, decades-long political identities have served without objection, their own governments have celebrated such judges, and their ecosystem has never raised a whisper about ideological conflict, until a judge refuses to toe their line.

This is political vendetta, plain and simple.

Until Dravidianists are willing to question the political pedigrees within their own favourite judges, they have no authority – moral, intellectual, or constitutional, to target Justice Swaminathan.

Their mouths should remain shut until they answer for the political histories on their side of the aisle.

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The post Judges With Communist Or DMK Backgrounds Were Fine, Until One Judge Defended Hindu Rights: The Dravidianist War On Justice GR Swaminathan appeared first on The Commune.

If there was ever proof that the secular establishment sees Hindu rights as a threat, the impeachment campaign against Justice GR Swaminathan is it.

For decades, MPs who now parade as champions of “judicial integrity” have watched judges flirt with corruption, bend the law for political patrons, and sermonise against Hindu traditions. Not once did they reach for Article 124.

Yet the moment a judge insists that a Hindu ritual be allowed in accordance with tradition and court orders, 100+ INDIA bloc MPs erupt like an offended priesthood.

A Rare Judge Who Refused to Play by Their Script

Justice Swaminathan crossed the one red line India’s old ideological ecosystem will never tolerate – He refused to treat Hindu traditions as inferior or negotiable.

His Deepam order at Thirupparankundram did not create new rights. It simply restored what always existed. But to a political class used to vetoing Hindu practices through “law and order” excuses, that alone made him dangerous.

So dangerous that Parliament had to be weaponised.

So urgent that MPs who couldn’t be bothered to read half the judgments they criticise suddenly became constitutional purists.

A Judge Refuses to Bend to the DMK – and That Is His ‘Crime’?

Justice Swaminathan’s order did not disturb public order; it disturbed political order. He reminded the Tamil Nadu government that it cannot arbitrarily suppress Hindu customs, the rights of lay citizens living in the state, under the pretext of “law and order”.

In a state where the ruling party routinely inserts itself into temple administration, this was sacrilege.

The result? Over 100 MPs signed an impeachment notice. MPs who don’t know (probably) where Thirupparankundram is on the map, how it is pronounced, its significance, even.

They signed it not because the judge was corrupt.
Not because he violated procedure.
But because he refused to bow to a government, their ally’s government, that treats Hindu practices as threats.

The Caste Subtext: A Brahmin Judge Defying the Dravidian Establishment

To pretend caste has nothing to do with this would be intellectually dishonest.

The DMK ecosystem has, for years, mobilised its base by demonising Brahmins as symbols of imagined oppression. A Brahmin judge asserting judicial independence, especially in a case involving Hindu tradition, is a nightmare scenario for a party that relies on Brahmin-baiting as a political identity marker.

The attack on Justice Swaminathan fits cleanly into that long-standing ideological script. His caste makes him an easier target.
His rulings make him a necessary target.

And Tamil Nadu’s political class knows it.

And the abuses? Have you seen any other judge in Tamil Nadu being abused for their caste? When Justice Senthil Kumar was just mentioned and mildly criticised, the citizen was thrown in jail. And when abuses poured from the Dravidianist quarters against Justice GR Swaminathan, the ruling dispensation, encouraged it.

Where Was This Energy When Judges Actually Violated Public Trust?

Judges accused of bribery?
Silence.

Judges whose comments openly belittled Hindu beliefs?
Silence.

Judges whose orders gave comfort to extremist groups?
Silence.

But one judge who refuses to reduce Hindu citizens’ rights to a footnote – Impeach him immediately! Mobilise the entire alliance. Draft emotional press statements. Cry about “secularism under threat.”

It would be funny if it wasn’t so revealing.

The Real Target Is the Judiciary’s Space to Protect Hindu Rights

The impeachment attempt is meant to send a message to every judge in India:

Uphold minority claims → celebrated.

Uphold Hindu claims → impeached.

This is not about one ruling; it is about warning future benches. Judicial independence is tolerable only when it conforms to the ideological preferences of the political class.

A judge who upholds secularism is fine, he/she is the best, in fact.
A judge who upholds Hindu rights is dangerous. This is the perverse logic at play.

The I.N.D.I Bloc’s Reaction Reveals More About Them Than About Swaminathan

The great irony is that the only time these MPs invoked the Constitution’s most serious punitive mechanism was to punish a Hindu religious victory. Not for corruption. Not for misconduct. Not for ethical lapses.

For a lamp on a hill.

A Deepam that has exposed a deeper rot.

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The post A High Court Judge Gives Hindus Their Right, Defying The Dravidianist Establishment, And ‘Secular’ Parties Want Him Gone appeared first on The Commune.

In Indian public life, few assertions are repeated as insistently as the claim that “the Qur’an is eternal, timeless, and valid for all societies and all eras.” The statement is routinely invoked by Islamist groups, conservative clerics, and sympathetic politicians—usually when questions are raised about reform, gender justice, or constitutional supremacy.

It surfaces whenever debates arise about the Uniform Civil Code, Muslim women’s rights, or judicial scrutiny of personal laws. Dissent is dismissed as “interference in religion,” while reform is framed as an “attack on Islam.”

But stripped of theological ornamentation, the claim that the Qur’an is “timeless” functions less as a spiritual belief and more as a political strategy.

Why “Timelessness” Is Repeated So Ruthlessly

This is the moot question, and the one that I have tried to answer in this article. In contemporary India, calling a scripture “timeless” serves a clear purpose: it places religious authority beyond debate.

If a text is eternal:

• It cannot be amended
• It cannot be subjected to democratic reasoning
• It cannot be evaluated against constitutional values
• It cannot be questioned by courts, citizens, or believers themselves

This framing converts social rules into non-negotiable absolutes, instantly delegitimising discussion. That is why the statement appears most often not just in mosques or theological treatises, but in political speeches, television debates, court affidavits, and protest slogans.

In short – “timelessness” is power language.

The Quiet Admission That Undermines The Claim

Here is the irony. The moment one raises concerns about the pejorative references to other communities and non-believers or treatment of women and their rights, the very same voices insisting the Qur’an is timeless also insist that it must be “understood in context.”

Context of history. Context of revelation. Context of social conditions. Context of tribal Arabia.

This is not a modern concession; it is unavoidable.

Once context is admitted, the claim of literal timelessness collapses. A rule that requires historical explanation is not timeless by definition. A command that must be reinterpreted to remain moral cannot be universally fixed. Contextualisation is not decoration—it is transformation.

Scholars Say What Politicians Avoid Saying

Even a small glance at modern Muslim scholarship exposes the contradiction.

Fazlur Rahman, modernist scholar and Islamic philosopher, widely respected across South Asia, argued that Qur’anic directives addressed specific social problems of their time. What matters today are the ethical goals, not the ancient solutions. That means the rules are historical, not eternal. Through his works, most notably “Islam & Modernity (1982)”, he emphasized that the moral values of the Quran endure beyond history and require constant reinterpretation.

In his seminal work, “Critique of Religious Discourse (1992)”, Nasr Hamid Abu Zayd went further, calling the Qur’an a text that entered human language and history, and therefore cannot escape interpretation. For asserting this, he was branded an apostate by the Egyptian court —telling in itself.

There are countless other Islamic scholars who have echoed similar principles. These are not extremist voices. They are mainstream Muslim thinkers. Yet their conclusions are rarely quoted in Indian political debates—because they dismantle the utility of the “timeless” claim.

Why This Is Ultimately A Political Claim

People who embrace the fiction of eternal validity, in practice are ready to accept the following, all of which was once central to the Quran – slavery, tribal warfare and caliphate governance. If centuries-old norms can be set aside silently, then what remains “timeless” is not the text, but who controls its interpretation.

The insistence that the Qur’an is timeless serves three political goals:

1. Preserving clerical authority If the text is eternally clear, interpreters must never be challenged.
2. Blocking reform: Any change can be dismissed as sacrilege rather than debated on merit.
3. Mobilising identity: Critics are framed as enemies of faith rather than participants in a democracy.

This is why “timelessness” is shouted loudest in moments of social contestation—not spiritual reflection.

The Simple Logic That Ends The Debate

A timeless doctrine – (a) Applies unchanged; (b) Requires no historical mediation and (c) Functions identically across cultures

The Qur’an – (a) Requires context to interpret; (b) Reflects 7th-century Arabian society; (c) and Demands moral negotiation to remain relevant

Both statements cannot be true simultaneously.

What survives across time are human interpretations, not divine instructions frozen in amber.

Calling The Qur’an Timeless Is A Power Claim

To say the Qur’an is timeless is not a theological inevitability—it is a political decision.

It seeks to place religious authority above constitutional reasoning, public morality, and democratic scrutiny. Once contextualisation is acknowledged—and it must be—the idea of literal timelessness evaporates.

The Qur’an may retain spiritual or cultural significance for believers. But to present it as an eternally binding, context-free social doctrine in a modern constitutional democracy like India is neither honest nor sustainable.

That claim is not about God. It is about control.

DhiBhu is a political observer who writes on national security, foreign policy, and India’s geopolitical landscape.

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The post The “Timeless Qur’an” Claim Is Not Theology But A Political Strategy To Block Reforms And Silence Dissent appeared first on The Commune.

The saga at Thirupparankundram Hill in Madurai represents far more than a dispute over where a lamp should be lit during the Karthigai Deepam festival. It is a textbook case of how a self-proclaimed ‘secular’ government can systematically dismantle constitutional governance, weaponize state machinery against one community and orchestrate defiance of judicial orders in the name of “communal harmony” and “secularism”, all while parading itself as protector of pluralism.

The Court’s Clear Mandate

On 1 December 2025, Justice GR Swaminathan of the Madras High Court issued an unambiguous order: the Karthigai Deepam ritual must be performed at the ancient Deepathoon (stone pillar) atop Thirupparankundram Hill, not at the Uchipillaiyar temple mandapam where the DMK-aligned temple administration had attempted to confine it.

The judge’s reasoning was legally sound and grounded in documented history: a 1923 civil decree affirmed the temple’s title over the hill, upheld subsequently by the Privy Council. Justice Swaminathan observed that the Deepathoon stood on unoccupied temple property, outside the dargah precinct, and that not allowing the lighting would render hollow the ritual rights and heritage-linked property of the temple and its devotees.

Defiance As System

When the temple administration and state officials refused to comply by 3 December 2025, the actual date of Karthigai Deepam, Justice Swaminathan escalated appropriately. He issued a contempt order permitting the petitioner, Rama Ravikumar, to ascend the hill with ten others and light the lamp, directing the Central Industrial Security Force (CISF) attached to the Madurai Bench to provide protection.

This was a judicial acknowledgment that the state’s own police machinery had been compromised by political direction to obstruct a Hindu religious practice mandated by the courts.

The response? The DMK government moved heaven and earth, literally and legislatively, to thwart this order. Madurai District Collector issued a Section 144 prohibitory order under the Criminal Procedure Code (now Section 163 of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita), citing “law and order concerns.” The state filed a letter patent appeal before a Division Bench, alleging that allowing Hindus to perform their ritual would incite communal violence. The HR&CE Department, theoretically responsible for managing Hindu temples, worked openly to prevent compliance with the court order.

When the Division Bench dismissed this appeal on 4 December 2025, finding that the state had “wilfully decided” not to implement the judicial direction, it was scathing in its observation. The judges noted that the state’s appeal appeared to have been filed “as a pre-emptive step” to avoid contempt proceedings rather than to contest factual or legal issues.

Worse still, the court suggested that the prohibitory orders had either been passed beforehand or “manipulated after this Court called for the original file.” In other words: the government was manufacturing orders to justify its predetermined political outcome.indianexpress​

The DMK’s Playbook: Minority Appeasement Over Constitutional Duty

Throughout this entire episode, the DMK’s position has been consistent: that permitting Hindus to perform an ancient ritual at a heritage site would somehow endanger “communal harmony” and the “600-year-old mosque” on the hill. This framing is a masterclass in weaponized secularism.

Consider the logical structure of this claim:

The court has ruled the site belongs to the Hindu temple.
The court has ordered a Hindu ritual to be performed there.
The DMK government says allowing this would endanger minorities.

The implicit message is inescapable: Hindu rights must be sacrificed to protect Muslim sensibilities, even when courts have ruled against those Muslim claims. This is not pluralism. This is institutionalized Hindu subjugation masquerading as secular governance.

They claimed they were safeguarding a century-old practice of lighting the lamp at the Uchipillaiyar temple, a practice that, as Justice Swaminathan himself noted, has no historical or religious basis superior to the original Deepathoon location, which has far deeper antiquity and religious significance.

The Contempt Of Democracy

What happened next crystallizes the fundamental assault on democratic governance. Despite a Division Bench judgment, despite a fresh contempt order from Justice Swaminathan, despite CISF personnel being readied to provide protection, the Deepam was not lit at Deepathoon on 3 December 2025. Police continued to prevent devotees from ascending the hill even on 4 December 2025 despite another order by the judge that day. Till the time of publishing this article, nobody is even allowed to go the Kasi Viswanathar temple at the top to pray.

The state then moved the Supreme Court challenging even the Division Bench’s dismissal of its appeal.

This sequence of events demonstrates something unprecedented in independent India’s judicial history: a state government systematically violating not one, not two, but multiple High Court orders to prevent Hindus access to their own heritage and religious practice.

The DMK did not merely appeal; it obstructed implementation while appeals were pending. It did not accept adverse judicial orders; it went to delay and deny the right of Hindus by taking the matter to the Supreme Court. It did not respect judicial authority; it weaponized administrative machinery to circumvent it.

During the hearing, the HR&CE Department is said to have submitted multiple letters from priests to argue that the Deepam ritual cannot be performed on any date other than Karthigai Deepam.

Among the documents was one attributed to Sivasri Pitchai Gurukkal, which claimed that “Sivagamams” prescribe the lighting of the Deepam exclusively on the Karthigai Deepam day.

But once this so-called letter began appearing in the media, Pitchai Gurukkal released a note asserting that he had never made such a statement. He accused the department of misusing his name and position, saying that details he never provided were submitted as if they came from him.

The DMK’s actions have triggered a full-blown constitutional crisis, pitting the executive against the judiciary by deploying the District Collector to misuse Section 163 and sidestep a clear court order. In doing so, the DMK government has not just defied the law — it has blatantly disrespected the judiciary itself.

It has murdered democracy at the Deepathoon for its votebank politics.

And throughout, it framed this contempt as “protecting communal harmony” and blamed external “Hindu outfits” for attempting to “disrupt public unity” and “stoke communal tensions.”

The Anti-Hindu Administrative Machinery

This episode must be understood within the DMK’s broader institutional pattern. The HR&CE Department, which manages Hindu temples across Tamil Nadu, has systematically deprioritized Hindu concerns while granting accommodations to Muslim claims over temple properties.

For a second one wondered if they are HR&CE or MR&CE – as its actions reflect like they’re a fully owned subsidiary of the Waqf Board.

The police administration operates under implicit political direction to prioritize “minority sentiments” over constitutional rights. The bureaucracy coordinates to manufacture legal justifications for political outcomes decided in advance.

The Thirupparankundram episode is not an aberration; it is the system functioning exactly as designed.

When HR&CE Minister P.K. Sekarbabu declared that “people of Thirupparankundram have lived in total harmony,” he was not describing a conflict, he was describing a hierarchy. That hierarchy places Hindu ritual subordinate to Muslim sensibilities, Hindu property claims secondary to Muslim occupation, and Hindu constitutional rights tertiary to electoral calculations about “minority appeasement.”

The same DMK government that never saw a “law and order problem” when Islamist groups consumed non-veg food at the foothills of a sacred Hindu hill, and the very same regime that eagerly razed down temples claiming it was simply obeying court directions, is now suddenly allergic to following a court order that allows Hindus to light a traditional lamp at their own sacred site. The irony couldn’t be more stark: court orders are invoked to demolish temples, but conveniently ignored when they protect Hindu practices.

Judicial Resistance And Its Limits

To the judiciary’s credit, at least the Madras High Court has resisted. Justice Swaminathan’s orders have been consistent, unambiguous, and grounded in law. He has explicitly rejected the temple administration’s claim that allowing the Deepam at Deepathoon would endanger “communal harmony.” He has held that a court cannot allow religious rights to be rendered hollow by executive non-compliance.

He has directed CISF to file detailed reports on the state’s obstruction. As of 5 December 2025, the counsel for the contempt petitioner told the court that despite complying with its December 3 order, police blocked their ascent to the hill, surrounded them with nearly 200 personnel, and detained or arrested several devotees in violation of the court’s directions. Justice GR Swaminathan sought a report from the CISF commandant but deferred the matter to Tuesday, noting that the State’s writ appeals and its SLP before the Supreme Court were already listed for hearing.

But the judiciary’s reach has limits when the executive refuses to cooperate. The DMK government’s strategy is calculated: delay, appeal, obstruct, and rely on the fact that by the time courts exhaust all remedies, the Karthigai Deepam festival season will have passed for another year. The ritual cannot be performed six months later. The government need only hold out until December 25th or so, long enough for the moment to be lost, the political storm to pass, and the narrative to shift.

The DMK is holding democracy and the Constitution in hostage for its votebank politics

The Supreme Court’s Next Move

The Supreme Court now must decide whether Indian federalism permits state governments to systematically violate High Court orders regarding religious practices and minority rights. The political stakes could not be higher. The irony, of course, is bitter: if the “minority” in question were Muslim, Christian, or Sikh, no secular government would dream of using “communal harmony” as justification for preventing them from accessing their religious sites or performing their rituals. The exception carved out for Hindus reveals the hollow core of India’s secular-appeasement apparatus.

DMK: A Party That Is A Menace To People And Constitution

Thirupparankundram is no longer a ritual dispute or an archaeological quibble. It has become the clearest, most alarming demonstration of what happens when a ruling party decides that court orders matter less than its vote-bank arithmetic. It is a referendum on whether “secularism” in Tamil Nadu is still a promise of equal religious rights or a political weapon deployed selectively to keep Hindus in a state of permanent compliance.

The DMK government has delivered its verdict: law is optional, court orders are negotiable, and Hindu rights are expendable. Every action on the hill, from suppressing a lawful religious practice to manipulating prohibitory orders, reveals a regime willing to bulldoze constitutional equality the moment it clashes with its project of minority appeasement.

What the DMK government is doing is systematically hollowing out democracy, wrapped in the language of secularism and executed through a bureaucracy that has forgotten its allegiance to the Constitution.

In the coming days, India’s courts will not merely decide on a lamp at Deepathoon, they will decide whether a state government can openly defy judicial authority, sabotage religious freedoms, and still claim the legitimacy of constitutional rule. If courts do not draw a line now, they may never draw one again.

The Deepam at Thirupparankundram remains unlit. But what should alarm every citizen is this: the DMK has already snuffed out the flame of Hindu constitutional rights and it did so with full political intent and zero accountability.

Vallavaraayan is a political writer. 

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The post How The DMK Is Holding Constitutional Democracy Hostage At Thirupparankundram With Its Anti-Hindu Politics appeared first on The Commune.

The Karur crowd crush of September 2025 should have been a political funeral. 41 people died including a two‑year‑old, young couples, mothers with their daughters, crushed in three successive waves at a TVK rally where the FIR explicitly names party office‑bearers for reckless over‑mobilisation. In any textbook democracy, the leader at the centre of such a mass‑casualty disaster would face prolonged political exile, if not criminal liability. Instead, Vijay returned to the campaign trail within weeks, rebranded himself as the victim of a DMK conspiracy, and is now being reinforced by one of the most experienced organisation men in Dravidian politics. That trajectory, from culpability to consolidation, is the real story of late 2025.

The Psychology Of Absolution

What makes Karur historically unusual is not the tragedy itself; India has seen stampedes before. It is the public psychology that followed. Grieving families, on camera, said Vijay should not be blamed. Some even spoke of consoling him when he called them. His supporters instead chose to frame it as a disaster deliberately orchestrated by the DMK to curb his rise. The mental gymnastics needed to turn 40 preventable deaths at Vijay’s own rally into a storyboard of someone else’s villainy is astonishing — and, disturbingly, it seems to have worked.

This is not mere “fan loyalty.” It is a new strain of political psychology where emotional investment in a leader becomes so intense that objective culpability cannot penetrate it. The same voters who would demand resignations if a DMK or AIADMK rally killed dozens have decided, almost instinctively, that Vijay is exempt. That exemption is now a political fact, and every other actor in Tamil Nadu must reckon with it. And not every one will get this leeway or advantage.

Vijay’s Transformation: From Screen Image To Political Inevitability

Until TVK’s launch, Vijay’s “politics” was widely read as a combination of three things: his carefully crafted screen persona (the righteous outsider fighting systemic corruption), his late father S.A. Chandrasekhar’s unfulfilled ambitions, and the absence of any visible grassroots organisation or ideological framework. He is not a great orator like a Karunanidhi, Seeman or Annamalai. He doesn’t have the administrative depth, versatility or in-depth knowledge like Jayalalithaa. He has not built a grassroot cadre-based entrenched parties like how MGR or Jayalalithaa did. Vijay is seeing politics as an extension of his cinematic persona. That explains the cringeworthy, scripted and rehearsed speeches on stage and social media bytes. Everybody including this author still feel that Vijay is just all hype and no substance.

But the game changed in Karur. Vijay’s first major post‑tragedy speech was not apologetic but combative. It became an opportunity for him to make it into a DMK–TVK fight. The crowds that once saw him as a superstar now see him as a wronged leader fighting a hostile regime, an underdog – a classic victim‑to‑challenger arc that Karur, perversely, accelerated.

Yet this “inevitability” narrative has limits. TVK’s visible strength is concentrated in urban and peri‑urban belts, among first‑time voters and anti‑establishment middle‑class blocs. There is much less evidence of penetration into Dalit‑marginal constituencies that VCK, Left parties, and smaller outfits still organise at the ground level. Caste‑anchored local leadership, panchayat‑level patronage networks, and trade‑union linkages remain weak points. Treating Vijay as the “third pole that has already replaced AIADMK” is exactly the premature coronation TVK wants the ecosystem to perform.

Sengottaiyan: The Full‑Stack Organisation Man

Into this volatile moment walks K.A. Sengottaiyan, a man who spent roughly half a century inside AIADMK’s machine, from MGR’s early campaigns through Jayalalithaa’s iron rule and the post‑Jaya EPS period. His brand is not charisma but organisation: loyalty to leadership so total that he was called AIADMK’s “rubber stamp,” an iron grip over Kongu region networks, and an instinct for converting crowds, cadres, and caste equations into winnable arithmetic.

That such a man walks out after 50 years, resigns his MLA seat, gets expelled by EPS, and then crosses over to TVK, not DMK, signals several things at once:

• He believes AIADMK, as currently led, is a sinking or at least stagnating ship, incapable of offering him meaningful authority.
• He reads TVK as the only vehicle where his experience will translate into real command, not decorative posting.

TVK has validated that reading immediately. Sengottaiyan has been made chief coordinator of the party’s executive committee and organisational secretary for the western region (Erode, Coimbatore, Nilgiris, Tiruppur), posts structurally placed alongside, not below, the general secretary and campaign general secretary. For a party dismissed as a fan club with no clarity, this is fast‑track institutionalisation: a proper chain of command, region‑wise responsibilities, and a 77‑year‑old with an MGR–Jaya pedigree supervising young aspirants.

The Double‑Edged Sword

But Sengottaiyan is not a cost‑free asset. He embodies the old Dravidian style: opaque deal‑making, top‑down discipline, and comfort with caste‑weighted arithmetic. If Vijay truly wants to present TVK as a clean break from 50 years of DMK–AIADMK cynicism, he now has to explain why his first major induction is exactly the sort of back‑room strongman his Gen‑Z supporters said they were done with.

There is also a tactical risk. By placing Sengottaiyan at the executive committee’s apex, Vijay has narrowed his own future room for course‑correction. If TVK underperforms in the Kongu belt, or if there is backlash within AIADMK‑leaning Gounder blocs against this defection, rolling back Sengottaiyan’s influence later will be politically costly and publicly embarrassing.

AIADMK’s Historic Blunder

Losing Sengottaiyan to Vijay is not just an embarrassment for Edappadi Palaniswami; it may prove to be a historic miscalculation for the entire anti‑DMK space. Until now, DMK vs TVK looked like a far-fetched rhetoric. But with Sengottaiyan’s induction it has begun crystallizing. Whether this momentum will continue to bring in other disgruntled leaders like O Paneerselvam, TTV Dhinakaran and others will determine TVK’s weight as a formidable third front. But Edappadi Palaniswami’s attempt to keep an iron grip on the party is having its effect — people are slipping away like sand through a clenched fist

AIADMK has effectively pushed a veteran like Sengottaiyan into TVK’s arms, thereby strengthening the very challenger that could, in time, cannibalise its own base.

In western Tamil Nadu especially, where caste‑driven Kongu arithmetic has long underpinned AIADMK’s strength, Sengottaiyan’s relocation offers TVK ready‑made ground networks that no fan club can build overnight. Even if TVK does not immediately convert this into dozens of seats, it can deny AIADMK easy victories, distort margins, and accelerate the fragmentation of the non‑DMK vote.

BJP’s Silent Loss

A few weeks ago, Sengottaiyan met senior BJP leaders, including Amit Shah and Nirmala Sitharaman, amid discussions that may have included a possible shift to the BJP. However, since the BJP had already finalized its alliance with Palaniswami, any move by Sengottaiyan to join BJP would have been seen as politically inappropriate and akin to poaching. Had he joined BJP before the alliance was sealed, it could have strengthened BJP’s organizational presence significantly.

But now for the BJP, this is almost a strategic dead‑end. Reports indicate that Union ministers and RSS functionaries tried to use Sengottaiyan’s anger to reshape AIADMK into a more pliable partner; those efforts failed, and once his intentions became clear, Delhi quietly backed off. In effect, Sengottaiyan’s jump helps lock BJP into a spectator role in Tamil Nadu, unless it can engineer a fresh realignment closer to polling.

DMK’s Comfort And Blind Spot

DMK’s front, meanwhile, remains numerically solid: Congress, Left, VCK, MDMK, and even Kamal’s MNM are either within or orbiting the alliance space, giving Stalin a broad “secular” shield and a narrative of stability. There are ongoing feelers to PMK, DMDK, and other caste‑based outfits to at least prevent them from becoming spearheads of a rival bloc.

But DMK’s comfort inside this stitched‑together coalition can also be a blind spot. The party’s answer to TVK so far is to sneer at its supposed lack of ideology while downplaying how post‑Karur sympathy, anti‑corruption rhetoric, and a high‑decibel social‑justice plank are reshaping youth perceptions. Each time Vijay calls DMK a “looting syndicate” or “dynasty cartel” and backs it with selective data points, he is not just firing at Stalin; he is offering disillusioned DMK‑haters an option that is neither AIADMK nor BJP. With Sengottaiyan’s entry, that option now has a spine.

The Larger Precedent: Impunity With Fan Consent

The sharper way to read Karur is not just as Vijay’s “baptism in blood” but as the normalisation of impunity with fan consent. International and national coverage emphasises three crush waves, failure of mic and spotlight systems, overcrowding beyond permitted numbers, and even TVK cadres blocking ambulances. When that chain of preventable errors ends without any serious political cost to the central figure, it signals to all future organisers of every party that such risks are survivable so long as blame can be narratively outsourced to the administration.

India still lacks a binding, justiciable framework for maximum density, exit‑to‑entry ratios, or real‑time crowd‑flow monitoring at political events, despite repeated stampedes in temples and rallies across the country. Karur is not only TVK’s sin; it is a symptom of how all parties have normalised unsafe rallies for decades. But the fact that Vijay emerged politically stronger from it, rather than diminished, sets a precedent that will embolden future recklessness across the spectrum.

Where This Trajectory Points

It is still too early to project vote‑shares or seat counts. Karur’s ghosts will follow TVK into 2026; court findings and commission reports can still reshape public memory; and organising a party is not the same as organising a fan club. Yet some trajectories are already visible:

First, Vijay has survived a moment that would have ethically destroyed many leaders and has emerged with an even more hardened, emotionally committed base.

Second, TVK has recruited one of the last “full‑stack” organisation men of Dravidian politics, giving the party a ready‑made manual in booth work, cadre discipline, and alliance negotiation.

Third, the anti‑DMK space is now splitting into 2 with being the apex of a possible third front.

If there is a single line that captures this phase, it is this: Karur did not stop Vijay’s politics; it baptised it in blood, and Sengottaiyan’s jump has now given that baptism an organisational church. Whether Tamil Nadu rewards or punishes that combination will decide not just 2026, but the post‑Dravidian balance of power itself.

Hydra is a political writer. 

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The post Vijay May Be A ‘Tharkuri’ But He Must Be Taken Seriously, What Sengottaiyan Joining TVK Means For Tamil Nadu Political Parties appeared first on The Commune.

The Dhwajarohan ceremony on 25 November 2025 at the Ayodhya temple is a moment of profound fulfilment. It is a testament to centuries of faith and decades of dedication.

The physical temple is complete.

But this temple is more than its pillars and carvings. This temple is more than the home of the presiding deity.

It is a symbol of resurgence and resilience. It is the soul of a civilization. And that soul has a story; a story of immense sacrifice that remains, for now, whispers in the wind, fading memories in the minds of millions.

Yet, as the flag flutters, marking the official completion of the temple’s physical structure, it is time to turn our attention to a project that safeguards its modern soul – a memorial museum for the Ram Janmabhoomi movement. A gentle urgent reminder of a promise yet to be fully redeemed.

A temple, in its highest ideal, is not just a structure of stone but a repository of collective memory. Our ancestors etched their times, their stories and contemporaries in the ancient temples that exist today.

The story of Ayodhya is incomplete without honouring the countless individuals who, for generations, kept the flame of our civilizational memory alive. Their sacrifices are the invisible foundations upon which the visible temple now stands.

The proposed memorial-museum is not a project rooted in grievance, but in gratitude. It is an opportunity to answer a sacred civilizational duty: the duty to remember.

Imagine a space that does more than just chronicle a political or legal battle. Imagine a world-class institution that tells the epic, human story of the movement. It would house the personal effects of a kar sevak, a worn-out jhola, a handwritten letter, alongside the profound intellectual contributions of scholars who fortified the cause with historical and legal research. It would honour the leadership that steered the movement, but, more importantly, it would etch into permanent record the names and faces of the unknown, the unsung, the balidanis who offered their lives.

From the Kothari brothers in Ayodhya to Swami Lakshmanananda in Kandhamal, and the many others who fell defending their faith elsewhere, their stories are not isolated tragedies. They are threads in the larger tapestry of a civilization re-awakening to its identity. To forget them is not just an act of omission; it is a loss of our own moral and historical compass.

Every pilgrim who walks away from the sanctum sanctorum should have the opportunity to understand the immense human cost and unwavering devotion that made their pilgrimage possible. This context does not diminish the spiritual experience; it deepens it, connecting the divine to the earthly struggle that reclaimed its abode.

The call for this memorial is a call to sustain the “sense of history” that brought us here. The Hindu psyche, often rightly celebrated for its philosophical depth, must also cultivate the institutional strength to preserve its contemporary narratives.

Ayodhya, the very ground that witnessed this centuries-long civilizational journey, is the most hallowed ground for such a memorial. Let it be a project undertaken with the same vision and dedication as the temple itself. Let it be a place of quiet reflection, of learning, and of profound gratitude; a permanent, dignified tribute ensuring that the keepers of the memory are never themselves forgotten. The temple is complete, but the sacred duty of remembrance has just begun.

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The post Ram Mandir Built, Dharma Dhwaj Hoisted, Next Project Is To Build A Memorial Cum Museum For The Ram Janmabhoomi Movement appeared first on The Commune.

Consider the immediate aftermath of any terror attack in India. A bomb rips through a market in Jaipur. A train is blasted in Mumbai. Gunmen lay siege to a temple. Before the smoke has cleared, before the last victim has been identified, the machinery of our national consensus whirs into motion. The script is as predictable as it is comforting. Within an hour, television anchors, their faces grim, will speculate about the “masterminds across the border.”

Government spokesmen will release identical statements: “We condemn this cowardly act” and “We will give a fitting reply.” The conversation is now firmly, and exclusively, about Pakistan. The purpose of this ritual is not to find the truth. The purpose is to pre-empt the truth. The purpose is to ensure that the one set of questions that truly matters is never asked. Who is the man who lives in that Pune colony who surveyed the German Bakery? Who is the “student” in Jaipur who procured the bicycles? Who is the “local businessman” in Mumbai who provided the safe house? These are uncomfortable questions. They are inconvenient questions.

The official narrative, the one taught in our textbooks and repeated by our public intellectuals, is that the ideology which created Pakistan left India with the new border. That the Muslims who “chose” India were, by definition, secular, moderate, and committed to the new republic. But let us put these assumptions to the stress test. The demand for Partition was the political culmination of an ideological assertion: that a separate Muslim identity, law, and society (the “Ummah”) could not be submerged into a composite, non-sectarian, democratic state. This ideology did not evaporate on August 15, 1947. It simply changed its tactics. It burrowed. It waited. It presented itself not as a demand for a separate state, but as a demand for special status within the Indian state. Every time the state has been confronted with this obstinacy, it has buckled. This is the “secularism” we have practiced. When the Supreme Court granted a pittance to an elderly woman, Shah Bano, the entire clerical establishment rose as one. The “liberals” who now lecture us on television were silent. The state, led by a Prime Minister with a brute majority, overturned the court’s judgment. This is of a piece with the insistence on separate personal laws, the riots over cartoons in a distant country, the organized opposition to Vande Mataram, the refusal to allow reform. This is a relentless political project. It is the assertion of a parallel sovereignty. And this is the very history that the “Blame Pakistan” reflex is designed to make us forget.

The great truth of our age is this: the single-minded focus on Pakistan is an analytical error. One can even go as far as to say that it is a sophisticated, multi-layered, and wholly deliberate act of intellectual and political evasion. It is the shield which our entire establishment, new and old, from South Block to the newsrooms of Delhi, holds up to protect itself from a reality it dares not name. That reality is the history, and the continuing present, of Islamic obstinacy and radicalism within India.

Now, see how this evasion connects directly to terror. A module cannot function on air. A Pakistani agent, no matter how skilled, cannot simply walk into a sensitive area and plant a bomb. He needs a network. He needs a local guide, a translator, someone to rent a flat, to buy a SIM card, to procure the chemicals, to weld the containers. He needs, in short, a domestic support system. And what has our own investigative history shown? Time and again, after the media’s focus has moved on, the charge sheets are filed. And who are the names? They are not phantoms from Islamabad. They are the members of the Students Islamic Movement of India (SIMI). They are the founders of the “Indian” Mujahideen. They are local clerics, university students, and software engineers from Azamgarh, from Bhatkal, from Kerala. They are Indians. Their motive is not Pakistani nationalism. Their motive is the same ideology that our establishment has refused to confront for seventy years. They are fighting for that same parallel sovereignty. They see the Indian state, its constitution, and its “kafir” society as the enemy.

But the “Blame Pakistan” narrative performs a vital service. For the ‘secular’ establishment of old, it was a tool to appease a vote-bank. But for the new ‘pro-Hindutva’ establishment, this evasion is more profound. Why? Because blaming Pakistan is easy. It is the perfect performance of nationalism. It allows for a muscular, theatrical display which electrifies the base and consumes the news cycle. It requires no hard choices, no messy internal reforms. The alternative, confronting the domestic fifth column, is the hornet’s nest that they choose not to confront. To do so would be to admit that the problem is not a simple foreign policy dispute but a deep-fanged societal rot. It would mean undertaking the hard, grinding, unpopular work of statecraft: genuine police reform, the modernization of madrasas, the enforcement of a uniform civil code against all opposition, and the patient, thankless task of intelligence gathering in hostile domestic localities. Why bother with this difficult, protracted war at home when a spectacular, prime-time “fitting reply” to Pakistan gives you all the political capital at a fraction of the cost? The “nationalist” establishment has discovered that the rhetoric of strength is a perfect substitute for the creation of a hard state.

The result of this grand, collusive deception is that the problem is never solved. It only festers. By attributing every attack to an external enemy, we give a free pass, a complete immunity, to the internal, ideological fifth column that sustains it. We are, in effect, pruning the weed while carefully watering its roots. The 26/11 Mumbai attack was the perfect example. It was a Pakistani plot. But it could not have been executed without the maps and surveillance provided by domestic facilitators. Yet, even in that case, which part of the story was quietly buried? The hunt for the Indian helpers. We have chosen a comfortable lie over an inconvenient truth. The ‘secularists’ traded national security for the applause of a moribund intellectual class. The ‘nationalists’, more cynically, trade it for the roar of the crowd, for the tactical convenience of an external enemy. The result is the same. This shared delusion will not last. The nature of reality is that it does not care for our narratives. It has a way of asserting itself, often in the most brutal fashion. By refusing to name the enemy within our gates, by all sides shielding themselves with the “foreign hand” theory, we are not displaying secular tolerance or nationalist strength. We are committing national suicide.

Postscript

Let us be unambiguous. The case against Pakistan is settled. It is an irredeemable state dedicated to our destruction, and it must be treated as such. The question is not whether to confront Pakistan, but what else we are failing to do while we are so consumed. The obsessive focus on Pakistan is not a lie, but it is a half-truth so vast it functions as a lie. It is the ‘nationalist’ establishment’s great alibi. It is the single, deafening drumbeat they use to drown out the sounds of the enemy already inside the gates. An enemy they perhaps find politically inconvenient, and therefore terrifying, to name.

Yours truthfully,

Nishkala

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The post How Pakistan Becomes A Smokescreen To Mask A Far More Dangerous Internal Threat appeared first on The Commune.

On 9 November 2025, mythological fiction author Devdutt Pattanaik, known for his fantasy book series, posted about an article he wrote for The New Indian Express.

The article was titled “A fantasy called Chanakya”, with a byline. “The legend of Chanakya is simply this trans-civilisational script recast as Indian patriotism, with a dash of casteism”

This is not just wrong but mischievous ideological narrative building by Pattanaik.

The Impossible Standard Of Proof

Pattanaik’s central premise is that “there is absolutely no historical evidence that a man called Chanakya ever lived.” He demands contemporaneous, archaeological proof – a coin, an inscription, a royal edict bearing his name.

This standard is just unrealistic. If we were to apply it universally, we would have to dismiss the existence of most major figures from ancient history.

Alexander the Great: Our primary accounts of his life were written 300-400 years after his death by Greco-Roman historians like Arrian and Plutarch. There are no contemporary Indian records of his invasion.

The Buddha: There is zero contemporaneous evidence of his birth, life, or teachings. His existence is reconstructed from texts compiled centuries later by communities with a vested interest in promoting his legacy.

Jesus Christ: The earliest New Testament gospels were written decades after his crucifixion, by followers, not neutral observers. There is no Roman record of his existence from his lifetime.

Would a “selfie from Pataliputra” be enough for Pattanaik? Ancient history is not a court case where you get inscriptions on demand to prove something ‘beyond a reasonable doubt.’ It is a forensic science that pieces together probabilities from fragmented, often biased, and later sources. By Pattanaik’s logic, the fields of classical and ancient history would cease to exist.

The Plurality Of Sources: A Consensus Of Traditions

Pattanaik dismisses the sources on Chanakya as “later Buddhist and Jain chronicles and Sanskrit plays… imagined after 500 AD.” This oversimplifies the whole thing.

What makes Chanakya credible is that so many unrelated traditions mention him. He appears in:

• Buddhist texts like the Mahavamsa (5th century CE), which draw on older Sri Lankan commentaries.
• Jain texts like the Parishishtaparvan (12th century CE), which meticulously detail Chandragupta’s conversion to Jainism and his death by sallekhana (ritual fasting) in Shravanabelagola—a tradition supported by local inscriptions and enduring worship.
• Sanskrit literature, most notably Vishakhadatta’s political drama Mudrarakshasa (c. 4th-8th century CE), which takes the Chanakya-Chandragupta story as its central plot.

These are not a single, monolithic “Brahminical” narrative. They are competing accounts from traditions that were often doctrinally opposed to each other. Yet, they all converge on one central fact: a brilliant, shrewd Brahmin named Chanakya (or Kautilya) was the mastermind behind the Mauryan empire’s rise. For these diverse traditions to independently affirm his pivotal role is powerful evidence of his historicity, not a reason for dismissal.

The Arthashastra: A Text With Layers, Not A Forgery

Pattanaik points to references to Chinese silk and Roman gold coins in the Arthashastra to claim it was composed around 200 AD, “almost 400 years after Mauryan rule.”

This is a classic case of mistaking the leaves for the tree. Mainstream scholarship, including historians like R. C. Majumdar and D. D. Kosambi, agrees that the core of the Arthashastra is a product of the Mauryan period. The text we have today likely underwent centuries of transmission, with later scribes and scholars adding commentaries, examples, and updating terminology—a process known as interpolation.

The presence of a later interpolation does not invalidate the entire text’s origin. The sophisticated detailing of a complex bureaucracy, taxation, and espionage in the Arthashastra aligns perfectly with what we know of the vast Mauryan state from Ashokan edicts and Megasthenes’ account.

The “Mentor Trope” And Selective Cultural Skepticism

Pattanaik argues that the Chanakya story is merely a common “narrative trope” found globally, comparing it to Merlin and King Arthur, Hemachandra and Kumarapala, or Vidyaranya and the founders of Vijayanagara.

This argument backfires spectacularly. The universal presence of the “wise mentor” archetype doesn’t prove these figures are fictional; it points to a recurring historical and sociological reality. Powerful rulers have often relied on the counsel of learned advisors.

The Buddhist monk Nagasena debated and guided the Indo-Greek king Menander, as recorded in the Milinda Panha.

As Pattanaik himself notes, the Phagpa Lama was a preceptor to the Mongol emperor Kublai Khan.

Why are these relationships, or that of Aristotle and Alexander, not dismissed as pure fiction, while Chanakya’s is deemed a “fantasy”? The bias is hard to miss: only Indian civilizational heroes, particularly those valorized in a “Hindu” or “Brahminical” context, are subjected to this level of deconstructive scrutiny. The mentor-king trope is accepted as a plausible historical reality everywhere except in this specific Indian instance.

The Agenda Of Selective Historical Destruction

The most telling part of Pattanaik’s thesis is what he doesn’t attack. He will never write a column titled “A fantasy called St. Thomas,” despite the complete lack of contemporary evidence for the apostle’s legendary journey to Kerala in 52 CE; a story crucial to the identity of many Indian Christians.

He will never question the existence of the Buddha, whose life is documented only in texts written centuries after his parinirvana by his devoted followers. This selective application of “skepticism” exposes the game: the target is not historical inaccuracy, but specific elements of the Indian/Hindu historical consciousness that do not align with a particular ideological worldview.

It is possible that Devdutt and his ilk would also claim Nalanda university was destroyed by Brahmins based on some spurious later period texts; however, they will not believe Chanakya existed because it comes from later period texts. The standard of evidence is flexible, bending to serve a pre-determined narrative that often seeks to undermine traditional Indian institutions.

History Is Not A Weapon

Devdutt Pattanaik’s article is a masterclass in historical nihilism disguised as progressive scholarship. By imposing an impossible standard of proof, ignoring the consensus-building methodology of historians, and applying his skepticism with glaring selectivity, he does not enlighten but obscures.

The figure of Chanakya—the brilliant, ruthless strategist who orchestrated the fall of the Nanda empire and the rise of India’s first major imperial power—is supported by a robust cross-traditional consensus. His legacy, encoded in the Arthashastra, resonated across Asia for over a millennium, with his aphorisms being translated and treasured from Nepal to Tibet and Sri Lanka.

To dismiss this as a “convenient fiction” is not just bad history; it is an attempt to sever a people from a pillar of their historical memory. If there’s any fantasy here, it’s the idea that you can throw out every old source that doesn’t fit your politics.

In the end, what Pattanaik peddles is not history but a deracinated sermon meant to shame Indians out of their own civilisational confidence. Chanakya endures not because of blind patriotism, but because multiple traditions, texts, and centuries of scholarship recognise the magnitude of his political genius.

Reducing him to a “fantasy” says nothing about Chanakya and everything about the ideological compulsions of those desperate to unwrite India’s past. A civilisation that produced the Arthashastra does not need validation from armchair mythographers masquerading as scholars. The real fantasy is the belief that selective skepticism can erase a figure who has lived robustly in the subcontinent’s historical, literary, and political memory for over 2,000 years.

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The post No, Chanakya Is Not A Fantasy, But Devdutt’s Self-Proclaimed ‘Scholarship’ Certainly Is As He Writes Like A Deracinated Missionary Stooge appeared first on The Commune.

Bihar has delivered its verdict, and it comes with a warning siren that should echo all the way to Tamil Nadu. The NDA has stormed back to power, the Mahagathbandhan has collapsed, and one man who thought he could script a political revolution — Prashant Kishor — has been flattened by the voters he claimed were secretly marching behind him.

PK, the so-called master strategist who once dictated election blueprints to Chief Ministers, finally tested his own political luck. He floated Jan Suraaj, toured the length of Bihar, declared Nitish Kumar finished, and confidently predicted a “silent wave” only he could hear. The crowds cheered, cameras clicked, his volunteers amplified his every word — and PK began believing his own myth.

But voters exposed the mirage.

Jan Suraaj contested everywhere. It led nowhere. By the end of counting, the party sank without a trace, with a vote share so thin it wouldn’t even register on a political ECG. For a strategist who helped others win, his own debut was a spectacular self-goal.

And embedded in this humiliation lies a message Vijay can ignore only at his own peril.

Because Tamil Nadu’s newest political entrant must understand one brutal truth — mass applause, blockbuster dialogues, and lakhs of screaming fans do not translate into votes. Cinema charisma cannot replace booth strength. A blockbuster opening cannot substitute for street-level organisation. Politics is not a Friday release; it is a 365-day grind of booth committees, cadre discipline, voter lists, and tireless ground work.

Which brings us to the biggest red flag standing next to Vijay: his inner circle — especially Aadhav Arjuna.

Here is a man who has hopped from DMK to VCK to TVK, leaving behind confusion, factional fights, and suspicion. He dragged Prashant Kishor onto the TVK stage, created a media flutter about a possible understanding, hinted at coordination, and then — as if struck by lightning — publicly denied any alliance the very next day. It left the entire political class wondering whether TVK even knew what it was doing.

In Tamil Nadu political circles, Aadhav’s name floats with whispers — “DMK’s mole”, “opportunistic broker”, “unpredictable operator”. True or not, the perception exists. And in politics, perception can kill faster than reality.

Yet Vijay, in his naïveté, has placed hefty responsibility on a man many seasoned politicians wouldn’t trust for five minutes.

This is the danger. This is the Bihar lesson.

PK lost not because he wasn’t known — but because he trusted his own hype and surrounded himself with people who amplified that hype instead of grounding him in reality.

Vijay must not make the same mistake.

Fan mobs don’t win elections. Star power doesn’t win elections. Instagram reels don’t win elections. Booth captains win elections. Street workers win elections. Understanding the voter’s pulse wins elections.

And trusting the wrong people can destroy a movement before it even begins.

Tamil Nadu’s political battlefield is ruthless. It has chewed up film stars before. It has sent larger-than-life personalities packing. And it will do the same to Vijay if he keeps letting smooth-talking, loyalty-shifting operators navigate his path.

Vijay still has time to course-correct. But he must choose between two futures:

— one where he becomes a real leader who builds a disciplined ground force, listens to genuine workers, and cuts out freeloaders
OR
— one where he becomes yet another star who believed applause was equal to votes, trusted the wrong voices, and watched his political story end before it even began.

Bihar has shown what happens when leaders float in their own bubble.

Vijay’s test is simple:
Will he burst that bubble now — or let the voters do it later?

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The post Prashant Kishor’s Zero, Is A Lesson For Vijay The Hero appeared first on The Commune.

In a rare moment of cross-continental comedy, stand-up philosopher and full-time X revolutionary Kunal Kamra declared that New York politician Zohran Mamdani “makes India more proud than Adani and Ambani.”

A touching statement, except for one minor detail: Zohran Mamdani was born in Uganda, spent his early childhood in South Africa, and has lived in the U.S. for the last three decades. But who cares about geography when your GPS is permanently tuned to “performative nationalism”?

Of course, it turns out Mamdani’s father is Mahmood Mamdani, a Ugandan academic of Gujarati Muslim origin – one of the many Indians who migrated to East Africa during the British colonial period. Which means by Kamra’s nationalist logic, Zohran isn’t just Indian; he’s 200% Indian. Gujarat to Kampala to Queens; he’s double-strength Indian, with ancestral roots, overseas experience, and a progressive resume.

If ancestry is all it takes, Kamra might soon extend “Indian pride” to every Uber driver with a subcontinental playlist. Next week, expect him to post: “Greta Thunberg’s Uber driver with <insert any Indian-ish surname> now makes India prouder than ISRO.”

And truly, why stop there? With such elastic patriotism, we can claim everyone – from Elon Musk (born in Africa, like Mamdani!) to Kamala Harris (half Tamil, full America). India’s pride exports are doing better than IT services.

In the end, Kamra’s joke works perfectly because it’s about as Indian as Zohran Mamdani himself: globally misplaced, emotionally dramatic, and factually flexible.

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The post Islamo-Leftist NYC Mayor Was Born In Uganda And Raised In US, But Congress Lackey Kunal Kamra Says He Makes India Proud appeared first on The Commune.