India in Transition: A Journey Through Its New Modernity
Notes from a journey through a country balancing ancient traditions and an emerging modern society — reflections on development, generational change, and India’s transformation
Greetings to my readers. I recently returned from a trip to India — hence the newsletter hiatus —that lasted a couple of weeks. After visiting family in the medieval turned tech hub city of Hyderabad, Telangana, I joined my family on a yatra (pilgrimage) of three historically and religiously significant ancient cities in India’s Gangetic heartland in the state of Uttar Pradesh: Ayodhya, Prayagraj, and Varanasi, including the nearby Buddhist site of Sarnath.
While it has just been a few years since I last visited India, I got the chance to both see how rapidly India has changed and developed since I last went and the elements that have remained the same as before, some positive, some negative. There will be several forthcoming articles on my trip, both thematic and descriptive. I’ll write about different schools of Hindu philosophy, the future of liberalism in Indian society, how life for a middle class Indian has changed in the past three decades, and more. I’ll write about the evolution of the city of Hyderabad and about the journey through Uttar Pradesh and the experience of visiting the holiest sites of Hinduism. Before all that, though, here are some general reflections on my trip.
Development and Urban Transformation
My first impression is that India, in 2026, is now clearly a middle-income country like Brazil, Mexico, Malaysia, and Vietnam. This is clear both in Hyderabad, one of India’s fastest developing cities, as well as in Uttar Pradesh, a largely rural state with 240 million people and a reputation, until recently, for being misgoverned. (It is absolutely booming now.) India no longer has any open signs of desperate poverty. When I visited India when I younger, there were slums literally on the airport runways, and cities filled with limbless beggars. (There were few beggars to be seen. People have become more enterprising. They hustle now, doing jobs and asking for more and more money as the work goes along.) All that is gone, or at least on its way out, and confined to ever smaller pockets of the country. India, as a whole, is cleaner, has less littering, and is more organized than before. Its traffic is still bad, but is becoming more rationalized and predictable: one is less likely to experience haphazard traffic conditions in which vehicles are moving chaotically in all directions; crossing a street in India often meant risking death. Traffic patterns are more predictable, and signals are better followed. Cities have better sidewalks (footpaths), which shown fewer signs of encroachment by vehicles or shops. Power cuts are infrequent, at least in big cities, and even when they occur, generators step in immediately. (Yes, power cuts still occur, but not the way that they used to, for hours at a time, in major cities.) People, on the whole, are happier, more optimistic, better-fed, and more confident.
Contemporary India has excelled at creating high quality transportive infrastructure, from well-maintained, wide highways to better intracity roads, to airports — even in smaller towns — that put most Western ones to shame. Metros (city trains) are popping up in large cities, and high-speed railway is being laid. What India needs to be better at, though, is civic infrastructure, especially projects that make life easier for ordinary people. There need to be more garbage cans (waste bins) and bathrooms (washrooms). Several highly frequented public places that we visited had no facilities, such as bathrooms, that made traveling easier. The bathrooms that were there, however, were a step above how they were before.
Society
My next impression — and this is most important, in my opinion — is that India has clearly become a modern place. By this, I mean, modernity, and all its attitudes and characteristics, has become part of society. Its values and its imperatives are increasingly becoming internalized by younger Indians. I have written about the evolution of modernity in Asia many times, so this is an interesting development to witness.
Modernity’s appearance in India is evident in many ways: by the way people carry themselves — with more confidence — to the way that they interact with each other — hanging out at cafes and malls — to their greater knowledge of the world, often due to smartphone access (absolutely everyone had a smartphone and reels are extraordinarily popular ) outside of the narrow, family-defined spaces that characterized the lives of most Boomers, to the decreased salience of caste. Clothing has also become more Western: I observed that most young women in cities, and even in rural areas, wear jeans or pants, often paired with a polo or kurta — as do men — not saris or shalwar kameez.
Now, I don’t think clothing or hanging out in cafes with foreign food in mixed gender groups necessarily indicates a person’s values or social conditions, but as a whole, it demonstrates a general social shift away from the traditional, ritual-informed society of the past toward a more individualistic, market-driven society in which personal choice is a larger factor in the lives of people. In the language of the German sociologist Ferdinand Tönnies, India is rapidly transitioning from a Gemeinschaft to a Gesellschaft, that is a society based on impersonal and contractual relationships rather than one based on traditional, kinship-driven bonds.
Those who write about India write about its many cleavages and divisions: between castes, between the genders, between Hindus and Muslims, between the liberal-Anglophone elite and the devout masses. But, based on my observations, I think the largest social division — and the reason for forthcoming change — in India is generational. The Boomer generation, the ones dominating India’s institutions, is perhaps the last generation of Indians that has not internalized or lived in modernity. Think, for example, about the lifestyle of American and European Boomers, those who went to college in the 1960s and 1970s, and were involved in protests and the counter-culture. Every generation has a different perspective from those that come before and after, but both the Western Boomer and the contemporary college-age student in the West has the same mental frame of reference to life: individualism, the quest for finding the self, existential thoughts, assumption of a free choice of career and partner, a life path not necessarily set in stone.
For those born and raised in conditions before modernity set in, life was very different. It was very different for Indians who were born and grew up before the 1990s, before India opened up to the world’s economy and began to dismantle its socialist-inspired system, because it was inundated with market choices and the internet. It was a different time, it was a different place. No doubt, it was idyllic in some ways. One knew not loneliness then, nor doubt about one’s path. One didn’t need to go to cafes or join meetup groups to have people to spend time with. It was easy to hang out with one’s fifty or so cousins, drinking tea, playing chess or carrom. In fact, just after a few days of being back in the U.S., I find the quietude and almost sterile life here almost unbearable at times, despite being in the vicinity of all my friends and family members.
But there was also stagnancy. The Nobel-laureate V. S. Naipaul wrote the following after visiting India in the 1970s, though his later writing speaks of an India that is awakening and throwing off its old thought patterns. Naipaul was critical of the India of that time, but was no critic of India: he wanted India to rediscover its ancient Hindu dynamism and all that it entailed, rather than remaining confined to its narrow present.
From the outside so stable and unyielding, yet liable to crumble at the first assault from within: the self-assertion of a son to whom has come a knowledge of the larger world, another, non-Hindu idea of human possibility, and who is no longer content to be part of the flow, part of the Hindu continuity. Some of the gestures of rebellion might seem trivial – driving in motor cars, meat-eating, drinking – but … they are all momentous. Where ritual regulates the will and so much of behaviour is ceremonial, all gestures are important. One gesture of rebellion…brings others in its train, and very quickly they add up to a rejection of the piety and reverences that held the society together, a rejection of karma. Such a fragile world, where rebellion is so easy, a mere abandoning of ritual! It is as though the Hindu equilibrium required a world as small and as restricting … [as one] where men could never grow, talked much and did little, and were fundamentally obedient, content to be ruled in all things by others. As soon as that world expands, it shatters.…
The individual is never on his own; he is always fundamentally a member of his group, with a complex apparatus of rules, rituals, taboos. Every detail of behaviour is regulated – the bowels to be cleared before breakfast and never after, for instance, the left hand and not the right to be used for intimate sexual contact, and so on. Relationships are codified. And religion and religious practices – ‘magic and animistic ways of thinking’ – lock everything into place. The need, then, for individual observation and judgement. is reduced; something close to a purely instinctive life becomes possible….
When caste and family simplify relationships, and the sanctity of the laws cannot be doubted, when magic buttresses the laws, and the epics and legends satisfy the imagination, and astrologers know the future anyway, men cannot easily begin to observe and analyse. And how, it might be asked, can Indians face reality without some filter of faith or magic? How often in India – at every level – rational conversation about the country’s problems trails away into talk of magic, of the successful prophecies of astrologers, of the wisdom of auspicious hours, of telepathic communications, and actions taken in response to some inner voice! It is always there, this knowledge of the other, regulated world, undermining, or balancing, intellect and the beginnings of painful perception. When men cannot observe, they don’t have ideas; they have obsessions. When people live instinctive lives, something like a collective amnesia steadily blurs the past. - India, A Wounded Civilization
I do not want this to appear as a knock against spirituality and religion. In fact, I had many wonderful, powerful religious experiences during the yatra, as well as some that left something to be desired. It is not spirituality itself, or ancient Indian civilization itself, which is the subject of the critique here, but rather the stagnancy, narrowness, and rigidity that characterized the Indian mind of the past few centuries, a mind that has retreated into itself rather than embrace openness and flexibility. Actually, India is on the cusp of a rediscovery — a renaissance — of ancient Indian and Hindu thought and civilization, as more people have the means and interest in delving into that history. It will be a glorious time of rediscovery and embrace of Indian culture as a living tradition with lessons to impart to modern man, rather than getting lost in arcanum. I saw a large number of young people visiting the temples that I visited, many in groups with their friends. So it seems like there is still interest in spirituality among the young. Perhaps this will lead to future vigor in a different direction as religion meets modernity.
As my readers know, I sympathize with traditionalism, whilst also acknowledging the need and benefits of modernity; more than that, it is a process that is not going to be reserved, and even conservative-minded individuals have gotten used to many of its premises.
I think Prime Minister Narendra Modi of India is one such individual. Despite his emphasis on culture and Indian civilization, he has always been a free-thinker and individual spirit, more like a Western hippie than an obedient son, running away from home at a young age, refusing the marriage his parents arranged for him, and wandering around India on a spiritual quest. His conservatism is not that of ritual traditionalism, but of individuals coming to appreciate and admire Indian culture through their own volition and self-study. Modi has done more than any Indian leader to bring modernity to India, empowering the poor, villages, and women. Modi represents a new type of Indian conservative — culturally rooted but shaped by modern individualism.
Expectations and desires have changed for young Indians. That is why I feel as though India is on the cusp of its own 1960s moment. Younger Indians are more introspective and more tuned to their own desires, and are less likely to blindly obey their elders and let their life-paths be chosen for them by parents or village leaders. But these expectations still linger in the old generation, so there is a mismatch between the values of an older generation and those of a generation that grows up watching American TV and Korean dramas (all young people seem to be consuming Korean and Japanese media). The change is demonstrable. And this can lead to explosive tension at times. For example, on the Indian matrimonial portal Jeevansathi, the majority of profiles are now self-managed, rather than being managed by the family. In tandem with that, strict caste filters have fallen by half over the past ten years (91 percent to 54 percent). What does that indicate? That individuals, of a younger generation, when left to their own devices, are less likely to be concerned about traditional expectations and more about personal ones. Put another way, caste cannot survive the free market in the long run. People want to choose their own partners and engage in dating. I was surprised to see the large number of young couples engaging in the public display of affection (PDA) in India, something that would have been unthinkable even ten years ago. Before, people used to ask: “are you married?” Now they ask, “do you have a girlfriend?” Norms have changed rapidly. However, the panic of elders losing control goes hand-in-hand with these trends. The state of Gujarat, for example, is proposing legislation that will mandate the submission of identity documents of parents and informing parents before a marriage — a law that would be unconstitutional under India’s constitution and case law. This is why I mean that India is on the cusp of a 1960s-type generational moment.
Modernity causes people to be more introspective and ruminative, thinking more in their heads about things. It is a result of moving up Maslow’s hierarchy. When you are starving like a beast, you can hardly think about self-growth. But when you introspect, you can think about other things: about cleaning up cities and throwing trash away properly, about how your actions impact others (empathy), about preserving the history of your town. You can begin to develop hobbies: your life is not just sitting at home with your family and hearing family gossip. You can join a book club. You can participate in a bike race. You can pick up a sport. (These are all things that my cousins or the children of my cousins do, but did the previous generation get these opportunities?) One thinks about their own wants, however right or wrong they may be. A lot of this is influenced by exposure to Western cultural norms, mediated by smartphones, as Professor Alice Evans’ research describes. The older, Indian education system was also very technical, and focused on rote-memorization, not imparting a methodology of knowledge.
Generational change results in convergence of attitudes and worldview, regardless of language and class. I felt this particularly when talking to my young guide in Ayodhya in Hindi, the only language she could speak well. Nonetheless, her vibe, mannerisms, how she carried herself, smartphone use, and independent attitude and perspective on life were similar to those of other young women from around the world, rather than how her grandmother may have acted or thought.
Most of this section focused on generational issues and modernity. But there are a few other societal themes that I wish to discuss.
First, Indians are moving around a lot more in India. The long term effect of this will be the dilution of regionalism and the forging of a united Indian sense of nationhood. I met Indians from all over India in every part of India that I went to. Tamils in Uttar Pradesh. People from Northeast India (“the Seven Sisters”) in Hyderabad. The default communication for any conversation of length between various individuals was for the most part, in conversational Hindi, and secondarily in a sort of schooled, imparted English that didn’t naturally lend itself to a flowing conversation (although there are many young people who do speak English very well). People from all over India tended to be friendly and chatty about their origins and how they got to be where they were. It was interesting to chat with someone from Nagaland at Kalakriti Art Gallery in Hyderabad about working there. Even those that aren’t moving around are aware of India and feel like a part of the modern fabric, the modern nation, and not just denizens of their states or localities.
Another thing that is evident throughout India is its so-called VIP culture. Indian public culture is set up to facilitate the ease of VIPs — politicians, celebrities, religious figures, et cetera — at the expense of the masses. Security guards are rough and often rude, and the masses often have to wait in long lines for VIPs to finish their business at public places, such as at the main temple in Ayodhya. The ordinary masses have to follow a strict set of rules and security checkpoints that VIPs are exempt from. No photography at the temple for the masses, but the VIPs can take pictures. Although I am not an Indian citizen, nobody would really know the difference, and several of my relatives are — but we were not treated, in many places, like the fellow citizens of a free and equal republic. Indian culture is still very hierarchical, and many people are frankly, servile, by nature. Often, I am the beneficiary of this, but it does get a bit embarrassing at times: I do not need so many things to be done for me! It is a bit hard to freely go around and look at places and shop and do one’s own research, if everywhere, there is someone who is asking you if you need help or a guide or something to be pulled from a shelf for you.
Again, I wonder if this is a generational thing that will change in twenty years as Boomers — used to obedience of elders and the British — die off. I discussed this with a cousin, and he certainly believes this to be so, saying that it will take a few generations to outgrow the habits of servitude. Upon returning to the U.S., I immediately felt like a citizen again (which, I am, of course), because the staff at the airport and security guards treated me as a fellow citizen, and not, as in India, as a potential threat. In India, one often is treated by the police and bureaucracy as a potential terrorist or thief. But this should be related to the conditions that previous generations grew up in, where scarcity was the norm, where everyone was always trying to get ahead or cut the line and needed to be shooed away. A society where people were not along far enough on the hierarchy of needs to be kind and polite by default, which requires growing up in non-survival conditions. One begins to care more about aesthetics and service.
I am planning to write an entire post on this topic, but I believe that while increasing modernity shows that Indian society may be becoming less traditional over time, liberalism (the political theory emphasizing individual rights and freedom, not the modern ideology associated with the left) has its limits, because a society that is shot throughout with identarian cleavages and hypersensitivity toward insults and speaking freely, can only go so far. Modernization will take the form of less restrictions over dating or the sort of culture people consume, but may not necessarily the change underlying attitudes of the social fabric. Time will tell.
One further point: I am not convinced that Two-Nation Theory is incorrect or that liberalism will erase it. Two-Nation Theory was a theory that gained steam in the 1940s, when the leaders of India’s Muslim community proposed that the Hindus and Muslims of British India were, in fact, two distinct and separate nations, who needed two countries (India and Pakistan). The modern Indian state has tried to disprove this theory in many ways, especially as it was envisioned by the left-leaning Congress Party that ruled India for most of the first fifty years of its independence. But I’m not convinced that even liberals of a Hindu or Muslim background see the world the same, even if they want the same sort of modernity for themselves as individuals. They emphasize or glorify different aspects and elements of India’s history as the ideal: either ancient India, with its many, competing Hindu and Buddhist schools versus the Mughal Era and the Ganga-Jamuni Tehzeeb, the syncretic, composite Persian-Hindu culture of North India. One references the Mahabharata, the other, the Urdu poets of the late Mughal Empire. One laments the 13th century Turkic conquest of India, one celebrates it. One sympathizes with Israel, the other, with Iran. One’s liberalism envisions a nation of equal citizens under one law, the other’s liberalism a nation of communities with balanced, collective rights. The whole point of liberalism is to allow people with opposing and different worldviews to live in peace, together, in civil society. It will be an interesting test for liberalism, though, when the underlying premises and visions of different groups differs to a great extent.
This section described many things that could be taken as critical or not positive — because unfortunately, criticisms more often leap to mind than pleasantries — but on the whole, Indian society, is actually much more positive, fun, livable, and welcoming than it was thirty years ago. It is important to compare India to where it used to be, in a relative sense, rather than comparing India to a developed, Western country. It is therefore, unfortunate, that so many Indians dream of getting a visa to the United States, though I can understand why from the economic and governance perspectives. In fact, I enjoyed my time in India so much that I could have easily stayed there another few weeks without any issues. It is approaching a golden spot where life is getting to be really good after centuries of poverty and disillusion, without the social problems of advanced, developed economies.
Economics
India is booming. You can see it with your own eyes when you go there. There is so much construction: roads, buildings, being built everywhere, from urban centers to rural Uttar Pradesh. This again is a point in favor of the theory of abundance, in favor of market economics, and in disfavor of socialism. Compare the results in India before and after the License Raj — permits for everything — began to be dismantled. Those who disparage market liberalism have no better alternative and no sense of the second-order benefits of market economies on society. Markets, more than any social policy, will eradicate caste and ease religious, regional, and linguistic tensions. Markets also benefit traditional culture: more money is spent on weddings, on festivals, on temples and pilgrimages, thus there is more wealth to go around.
Goods — many produced locally, in high quality — were everywhere, to be bought and sold. In light of the positive benefits of injecting capital into the economy, the policy of many local governments in India of transferring cash directly to people to send as they will, will have benefits down the road. The government of India is further liberalizing the economy and encouraging free trade. This is not to say that there shouldn’t be guardrails on public investment and goods. The example of China shows that there is a great benefit if the state invests in infrastructure, which also stimulates local economies. Any tendencies that encourage development and wealth should only be encouraged. Many Indians who dream of moving to the U.S. and partaking in its dynamic economy should also note that those conditions can be replicated, to a certain extent, at home.
I don’t want to minimize the problems of India. Environmental issues abound — the air, the water, those need to be cleaner. India does not look as clean or organized as many poorer countries. And India still has way too much bureaucracy — not only at the level of governance, but in all walks of life. Almost every action or process takes multiple steps more than they ought to it. There are many reasons for this: the persistence of the license-raj mentality being the main one, layered on top of a culture that loves ritual and is bureaucracy/ritual-driven and risk-averse. To be fair, many Europeans are like this too. This is very different than the American attitude of just getting up and doing something.
The solution to these problems is, I believe, downstream of greater economic growth, generational change, and the increased awareness that comes from generational change and modernity. Many Indians can now afford to travel to other countries; those that cannot still see what life is like elsewhere on the internet. That understanding, that internalization, that awareness, will have an impact on making India cleaner and more organized. It isn’t corruption — as many Indians allege — but social attitudes, inefficiency, ignorance, and indifference that are responsible for India looking the way it does. These can change.
India’s best use of the next two decades would be to focus on economic development, and the subsequent development of its soft power, the power of its movies and media industry. Military and geopolitical power will be downstream of economic power. If it prematurely embarks on geopolitical expansion before its economy is stronger, it may lose focus. Following the example of China, it should grow and become richer before showing its claws, although in the interim, it must of course endeavor to hold its own in South Asia and its immediate region. India is in a place where, if it focuses on economics for the next few years, can really transform itself. It can be like a giant Japan, with a developed economy and strong soft power, before getting more deeply involved in great power competition.
Foreign Policy and India’s Place in the World
One thing that I heard, universally, from virtually everyone I spoke to in India is that they would like India to be like Japan. Not China, not the United States, not Britain, not Israel (those being other countries that are frequently mentioned in India). That comment is revealing. India can never be another Japan because their conditions and makeup and history are different, but the aspiration to be like Japan is certainly something that will have real-life effects.
Like the Japanese, Indians are a bit insular. The entire world can be India for many in India. The average Indian doesn’t seem to have the hunger of many Chinese that I’ve met who want to learn all about the world, especially the West, its culture, its arts, its philosophy. But like the Japanese, Indians want to be modern, developed, and advanced, and Indians perceive that Japan did so on its own terms, balancing modernity and Japanese traditions. That’s at the core of the Indian desire to be like Japan, to have a culture where Shinto shrines and skyscrapers co-exist side-by-side. It’s a bit of a myth — no change is ever so smooth — but that’s the aspiration. I hope that there is an element of truth in it. That India can export — in addition to Yoga — movies and food and fashions and be a place that people around the world admire and find cool and trendy. It is better to be known as a Japan or France of the world than a China or Iran of the world or as a United States of the world, because everyone admires Japan, but the United States has many who wish it not the best.
I was in India when the current 2026 Iran War or the Third Gulf War or whatever you want to call it began, necessitating a roundabout flight home. Israel is another country that one frequently hears Indians admire and wishing to emulate, though there is more of a split depending on one’s religious background or political leanings. There were a lot of different, conflicting views of the United States, Israel, and Iran in relation to the conflict there.
The current Indian government — and probably the plurality of people on the street — support Israel, as evidenced by informal surveys and questions. Reasons given include the fact that Israel is perceived to have always supported India, and sympathy — and empathy — for Israel’s fight against terrorism. Many (Hindu) Indians see Israel as a role model, as another ancient-civilization that has reemerged after a period of eclipse to take its rightful place in the world, whilst also fighting against forces that would hold it down. Like Japan, Israel is an example of a state where both tradition and modernity coexist, hand-in-hand.
I got the impression that many in India — especially in the security establishment — would like for India to do to Pakistan what Israel did to Iran: to totally bomb it into submission, take out its missile and air force infrastructure, kill its leadership, and eliminate all perceived terrorists. The question is: can India do it? Talk is cheap. I think many Indians are aware of and prepared for the consequences. But there are many who would buckle at the consequences. If India does such an attack, does it have the guts and grit that the populations of Israel and Iran have developed for a long drawn-out conflict that will undoubtedly include a large number of civilian and military casualties? The recent Hindi movie Dhurandhar, India’s highest-grossing Bollywood film, addresses some of these questions, starting with the assumption that many of India’s enemies perceive Hindus to be cowards, and developing a plotline that shows that, with the right leadership and an emphasis on results, rather than moralizing, India can indeed take the fight to terrorists and its enemies, and be victorious over them. This is the hope of much of its current establishment. Time will tell.
That being said, there was also a lot of sympathy for Iran in India. One section of this support comes from its Muslim population, which is naturally unsympathetic to Israel, but many Indian intellectuals, diplomats, the far-right, and leftists also evidenced support of Iran. Many are invested in a different vision of power and the world order than that which is prevailing at the present. It is a notion of moral leadership, of the United Nations, of international law. For some, there is also the spirit of third-world solidary (“Third Worldism”) and anti-imperialism, and that idea that the Global South should act as a bloc, or its countries should at least stand with one another. Some, disappointingly, engaged in the stupidest and vilest of conspiracy theories around whose hand was actually behind the whole conflict.
Some saw the sinking of an Iranian ship near India — but outside of its territorial waters — as an assault on India’s sphere of influence, but what was India to do? Help the Iranian ship and take Iran’s side or stand aside and at least appear neutral, if not tacitly on the U.S.’s side? And frankly, there is just some straight-up jealousy and anti-Americanism in some sections of Indian society. Like the jealous family members in Indian television dramas who are always trying to pull successful or happy people down, some Indians simply want the United States to fail and lose face and lose soldiers out of envy of its power.
What is at the root of this moralism, this self-righteousness, that is so contrary to any sense of international affairs realism? Naipaul would suggest that it is the outgrowth of Gandhianism, which moralizes politics and makes a virtue even out of weakness; the Gandhian “allow[es] himself to be beaten, finding in the violence offered him a confirmation of his own virtue, saw himself as a satyagrahi, ‘fighting for the truth.…’” This thinking can be found throughout the Indian political spectrum. Ultimately, the debate over Iran in India was less about Iran and more about the various arguments and debates going on in India. From a purely Indian foreign policy point of view, it can remain agnostic to the question of who ends up ruling Iran because what matters most is being able to trade with Iran — including oil — in the aftermath of the war. India’s closer ties with Israel and the Gulf Arab states predispose it to sympathy to those parties — considering the fact that Modi visited Israel right before the conflict started, it seems probable that he had some foreknowledge of what was going to happen — but it is ultimately not India’s fight. It really has nothing to do with India, and India gains nothing by saying anything or hitching itself to a sinking ship. If anything, a more friendly, pro-Western regime in Iran could be good for India because it can finally do business there without dealing with Western sanctions.
Gandhianism may be part of the Indian tradition, but so are many other viewpoints. The Mahabharata, putting forward that idea that the law of the jungle prevails, goes on to suggest that the duty of a ruler is to fight, to gain revenge, and to aggrandize the kingdom: “use the strength of your arms to kill those who hate you in battle and enjoy the riches,” advises one character.
Going back to what V.S. Naipaul wrote, it takes a figure who has the ability to observe the world without passion, through a realist lens, to guide India based on reason, not emotion. And that requires sidestepping these emotionally laden debates to get on with the arduous task of governing India in a way that’s best for India. Though not perfect or flawless, Indians should be grateful for Modi for his realism in foreign policy, in economics and market reforms, in understanding the need to bring in modernity and development into India. Who in India wants to buy the alternative, the anti-development, anti-industrial visions of activists like Arundhati Roy? Those people romanticize poverty and want India to be poor. (And no, I do not believe that development means destroying everything. There is a place in a developed society for the preservation of the environment, local customs, and indigenous rights.) I’ve promoted parliamentary democracy in the past, as flexible form of government, because of its ability to build coalitions, and because it can unite the executive and legislative functions. However, several people in India put it forth to me that they wished that India were a presidential system, that it ought to have the leadership of a strong executive unencumbered by parliamentary compromise or the electoral fortunes of his party. In India, Modi is more popular than his party, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). There is something to be said in having a popularly elected president, with charismatic authority and the electoral mandate to implement necessary policies without needing to engage in constant dealmaking and compromise and coalition building. Time will tell.
Thoughts on Travel
Finally, to conclude, I learned some valuable things during this trip. I return from India with renewed appreciation and love of India, its history, and its culture. I wrote several months ago that India is the greatest story of the 21st century, and I still think that’s so. Its vibrant population will have an enormous impact on the world. I also come from India with renewed appreciation for the United States, because its strengths are all the more evident when visiting other countries.
Because I visited so many temples during this trip, I also gained a greater appreciation of the temple complex as an institution in traditional Indian society. Many temples are miniature townships. In a premodern era, they served as marketplaces, community centers, places for the arts and education. One can still observe this across many of the old, community temples in India.
The food in India, especially in Hyderabad, was of course excellent. I have a renewed appreciation of Hyderabadi cuisine, with its synthesis of Persian, North Indian, and Telugu flavors.
Most importantly, I’ve come to realize something on this trip: often the best places to visit — and those that I enjoy most — are just off the main circuit, so to say. Places that sit between obscure and overrun, known enough to be well-maintained and to attract people who genuinely care, but not famous enough to be crowded or to have a managed touristy experience. It was nice to visit the most famous historical and religious sites in India, but the experience of being able to slowly enjoy these second-most important types of places was actually much better. From a contemporary art museum in Hyderabad with an unexpected collection of old maps to a barely anticipated visit to one of the fifty-one subcontinental Shakti Peeths — shrines to the Goddess — in Prayagraj that turned out to be an amazing example of a community, neighborhood temple with powerful rituals and a market, it was these secret finds that really brought me something precious on the trip.
Future posts will follow on specific topics and locations that I visited, especially the development and evolution of Hyderabad, and my experience traveling through Uttar Pradesh on my yatra.
Lovely article! I am curious though, what makes you feel like most Indians want India to be like Japan? I have always thought this, but most people I know never really thought of it that way, mostly because most didn't know Japan that well.
Well written. A riveting read.