Corporate–Hindutva Nexus in India Under Modi: Implications and Trajectories
- SR Darapuri, National President, All India Peoples Front
The idea of a “corporate–Hindutva nexus” refers to a perceived convergence between large corporate interests and Hindu nationalist politics in contemporary India, especially since the ascent of Narendra Modi and the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). In this framing, market-friendly reforms, concentrated economic power, and majoritarian cultural politics are seen as mutually reinforcing. Proponents of this view argue that the alignment has reshaped the country’s political economy and public sphere; critics of the concept caution against overgeneralization and note the complexity of India’s democracy, economy, and federal structure. This essay synthesizes the main claims about the nexus and assesses its implications for governance, the economy, minority rights, media and digital spaces, and India’s long-term democratic trajectory.
At the heart of the thesis is a dual transformation. On one side, India has deepened liberalization through privatization, deregulation, and an emphasis on infrastructure-led growth, logistics, and digital public goods. On the other, politics has moved toward a more assertive majoritarian nationalism, framed around cultural identity, national security, and centralized leadership. The argument is that each pillar fortifies the other: a strong state creates policy certainty and discipline prized by big business, while private capital and elite media ecosystems amplify a nation-building narrative that prioritizes stability, scale, and spectacle.
This convergence carries clear governance implications. Decision-making has become more centralized in the Prime Minister’s Office, with politics and policy tightly choreographed. Streamlined executive action can accelerate project clearances, industrial corridors, and digital platforms, but it may also compress deliberation and reduce the scope for parliamentary committees, federal bargaining, or formal stakeholder consultations. Critics view this centralization as blurring the line between party and state, while supporters argue that it overcomes bureaucratic inertia and aligns the system behind national priorities.
Economically, the government’s focus on ease of doing business, large-scale infrastructure, production-linked incentives, and financial formalization has encouraged consolidation in several sectors. This can yield efficiencies, capital deepening, and export competitiveness. Yet rising concentration—whether in ports, airports, retail, telecom, or energy—raises concerns about market power, barriers to entry, and the fate of small and medium enterprises. The tax and regulatory regime, headline reforms, and public procurement can inadvertently advantage well-capitalized players, fuelling perceptions of proximity between the state and select conglomerates. The stakes are high: India’s growth ambitions depend on both scale and diffusion—large firms that can compete globally, alongside vibrant ecosystems for MSMEs, agrarian stakeholders, startups, and informal workers.
The social and civic dimensions are equally salient. Observers point to tightened space for civil society organizations, protest movements, and universities through legal, financial, or administrative pressures. Media concentration and the rise of partisan television and social platforms have shifted incentives toward polarized, emotive coverage. The result can be a narrower Overton window for dissent and investigative journalism. At the same time, the rapid expansion of state-led digital architectures—identity, payments, data exchanges—has broadened service delivery and inclusion, even as it raises questions about surveillance, algorithmic governance, and due process. The term “digital authoritarianism” is sometimes used by critics to describe the combination of pervasive digital rails with stringent information controls and sedition- or security-linked prosecutions; defenders describe it as necessary state capacity to combat misinformation, extremism, and foreign interference.
Perhaps the most contested implications concern minorities and the secular compact. Episodes of communal tension, vigilantism, and polarizing rhetoric have prompted fears of normalized discrimination and legal marginalization. Policies on citizenship, personal law, education, and places of worship are read by some as reordering the secular settlement toward civilizational majoritarianism. Government supporters reject the charge, arguing that the state targets illegality and extremism rather than communities, and that welfare schemes—housing, sanitation, cooking gas, banking access—are universal in design and reach. The divergence here turns on lived experiences of safety and equal treatment, local administrative behaviour, and the tone set by political communication.
Federalism is another axis of tension. The pursuit of uniform national programs, tax centralization through the GST, and the political dominance of a single party at the Union level have altered centre–state dynamics. Supporters argue that scale and standardization enable national markets and rapid execution; critics contend that fiscal and administrative centralization weakens state autonomy, especially for opposition-led governments, and can politicize resource flows and investigative agencies. Over time, sustained friction risks hardening regional fault lines, while cooperative federalism could, conversely, channel competition into developmental races rather than political vendettas.
Internationally, a more muscular national identity dovetail with geoeconomic ambitions. India’s narrative of civilizational resurgence, strategic autonomy, and supply-chain realignment has appealed to partners seeking a counterweight in Asia. Corporate–state synergy can accelerate industrial policy, logistics, and green transitions that underpin this strategy. Yet reputational risks arise when human-rights concerns, religious freedom reports, or high-profile controversies make global headlines. Global capital is pragmatic but sensitive to rule-of-law signals; predictability in regulation, independent institutions, and contract enforcement remain decisive for long-horizon investment.
The long-term democratic implications hinge on institutional balance. Concentrated political and economic power can deliver speed but also requires counterweights: an independent judiciary and regulators, competitive media markets, robust right-to-information regimes, and empowered local governments. The health of these guardrails determines whether centralization becomes mission-oriented state capacity or lapses into hegemonic control. Similarly, the digital state’s promise of inclusion must be matched with strong data-protection norms, transparent algorithms, and accessible grievance redress.
Three policy pathways can mitigate the risks while preserving gains. First, strengthen competition policy and procurement transparency to curb undue concentration and ensure a level playing field for MSMEs and startups. Second, bolster institutional independence—courts, regulators, election management, and information commissions—to anchor investor confidence and civil liberties alike. Third, widen civic and media pluralism through fair licensing, diversified funding, and protections for academic freedom, matched with clear, narrowly tailored rules on online harms that respect due process.
In sum, the corporate–Hindutva thesis captures a real and important convergence in India’s current political economy: centralized governance, market-scaled ambitions, and majoritarian cultural narratives move in tandem. This alignment has delivered visible infrastructural and administrative momentum, but it also concentrates power and strains the pluralist architecture that sustains a large, diverse democracy. The balance India strikes—between speed and scrutiny, scale and diffusion, identity, and equality—will shape not only near-term growth but the character of its republic for decades to come.
Courtesy: ChatGPT
No comments:
Post a Comment