“What Bengal thinks today, India will think tomorrow.” Once this observation was made by G.W. Gokhale, a respected nationalist leader, once echoed the intellectual, cultural, and spiritual supremacy of Bengal in India’s civilisational journey. From shaping the nationalist discourse to leading social reform movements, from producing visionaries like Swami Vivekananda, Sri Aurobindo to Nobel laureates like Rabindranath Tagore and eminent revolutionaries like Subhas Chabdra Bose, Khudiram Bose; Bengal once stood at the helm of thought leadership. But today, one is compelled to ask — what is Bengal thinking now? More importantly, is Bengal thinking at all?
Bengal is not merely a geographical entity. It is an emotion, a legacy, a lighthouse of Dharma, spirituality and intellect. This is the soil that gave birth to Swami Vivekananda, whose thunderous voice awakened a sleeping India with the call of spiritual nationalism. It is the home of Rabindranath Tagore, whose verses blended poetic beauty with deep philosophical insight. Kazi Nazrul Islam, the “Rebel Poet,” roared against tyranny and celebrated unity beyond religious barriers. This is a land where Durga is not just a deity but a cultural assertion, where Kali stands for strength against adharma, and where the soil itself seems to chant Vande Mataram. But what happens when this land starts slipping into silence in the face of legislative injustice?Once, Bharat was being trampled under the feet of foreign British powers.
Once a nation that had excelled in every sphere, the majority of Indians had seemingly accepted defeat at the hands of a handful of British rulers. In such a bleak situation, it was the epoch-maker Swami Vivekananda who gave India the mantra for resurgence. Swamiji proclaimed: ” Keep worshipping Shri Ramachandra and Mahavir across the country. Set aside the Brindavan lilas for now. Worship the Sri Krishna of the Gita—the one who roared the song of courage; worship Shakti. The worship of the flute-playing Krishna of Vrindavan will not bear fruit in today’s India. The country will not be uplifted through melody and music alone. What we now need are cannons, fire, bullets—games with shields and swords. Strike, fight, rise and engage! Most of our people are drowning in darkness, full of morbidity and abnormal weakness. Forget this old, fragile India—start worshipping Mahavir, start the worship of Shakti. Perform the worship of Shri Ramachandra in every home. Only then will you find personal salvation—and the nation’s too. There is no other way.” (Source: Translation from Udbodhan, Year 6, Issue 10, 1911, pp. 305–306)
The date was September 11, 1893. A thirty-year-old youth from Kolkata delivered a speech that resonated across the stage of the World’s Parliament of Religions in Chicago, USA. That young man, once known as Narendranath of Kolkata, was now hailed across the globe as Swami Vivekananda. Through his speech, the message of Hinduism—and India—once again reached the ears of the world. Following his iconic speech, posters with his image appeared across Chicago, bearing the caption: “Swami Vivekananda, The Hindu Monk of India.” After reinstating India’s spiritual dignity on a global platform, Swamiji returned to India in 1897. Later, at the Dyal Singh Haveli in Lahore, he delivered a speech titled “The Common Basis of Hinduism”. From that very stage, he declared in a powerful voice, “I am proud to call myself a Hindu.”
And yet, in Bengal—the very land of Swami Vivekananda, Sri Ramakrishna —Hindus today face deep trouble simply for remembering their forefathers. Just four kilometers from Shimla street Kolkata, where Swamiji was born, a deeply disturbing incident occurred in Moulali. In a state where thousands of places are named after Bhagwan Shri Ramchandra, a saffron flag bearing his name was forcefully removed from a public bus. And this incident is happening? during the period of Sri Ramnavami and Hanuman jayanti. It was in this very Bengal that Sri Ramakrishna’s household deity was Raghuvir, that is, Sri Rama. Remnants of the Ramayana can still be seen in the terracotta temples scattered across the region. The story of the Ramayana was deeply familiar to the common people of West Bengal. This is evident from the numerous brick temples built in the ‘Navaparyay’ style—a distinctive architectural tradition that emerged in the post-Chaitanya era.
Protests against the Waqf Act continue to erupt across several districts of West Bengal. On Friday as well, widespread demonstrations and unrest were reported in multiple areas, with the agitation turning particularly intense in Murshidabad, Malda, and South 24 Parganas. Protesters allege that the amended Waqf Act infringes upon the religious and social rights of the Muslim community and accuse the government of attempting to unethically seize control over their properties. From Friday morning, small gatherings began forming in various districts, which escalated into large processions by noon. In several places, these processions turned violent. In Berhampore (Murshidabad), English Bazar (Malda), and Baruipur and Diamond Harbour (South 24 Parganas), protesters blocked roads, vandalized multiple vehicles, and even set some on fire. Police initially attempted to pacify the situation through peaceful dialogue, but as the unrest spiraled out of control, tear gas and baton charges were employed. Section 144 has been imposed in certain areas.
According to various sources, incidents of vandalism have been reported in Ward No. 10 of Dhulian Municipality in Murshidabad. A Durga pandal and a Radha-Krishna temple were allegedly desecrated. Homes and shops belonging to Hindus in the area were ransacked and set on fire. In the adjoining Samserganj Assembly constituency, around 30 Hindu-owned shops were vandalized in places like Dakbangla More and Kanchantala. A similar pattern was witnessed in 2019, when 68 shops were vandalized and looted in Aurangabad, Umarpur, and Nimtita. Additionally, a temple located about 4 kilometers from Dhulian town has reportedly been demolished. In Suti, under the Shamsherganj area, Section 144 was violated as roads were blocked. Stones were pelted at the police, injuring the SDPO of Farakka. So far, more than 70 protesters have been detained, and nearly 15 police personnel have reportedly been injured. In Murshidabad, a blockade on National Highway 12 has disrupted connectivity between North and South Bengal. The movement has now taken an inhumane turn, with reports emerging that protesters even set an ambulance on fire.
In several Muslim-majority villages of Murshidabad, Hindus are now living in fear. An incident of temple vandalism has been reported in Dhulian, Murshidabad. Similarly, in Howrah, a car was seen being vandalized in front of the police. A video is circulating on the internet—not from Pakistan or Bangladesh, but from Howrah, West Bengal. In the video, the car’s front windshield is smashed with a kick, targeting the section where a sticker of Bhagwan Mahadev’s Trishul was placed.
According to Article 51A of the Indian Constitution, there are eleven Fundamental Duties outlined for every citizen. One of these duties is to “safeguard public property and avoid violence.” However, it is ironic that some political leaders—who often hold up the Constitution and loudly proclaim that “democracy is in danger” whenever something like the rebuilding and inauguration of the glorious Ram Mandir takes place—choose to remain silent when individuals from a particular community vandalize national property such as railways and roads. Why this selective silence from the so-called secular leaders? The irony is striking.
The very intellectuals, activists, and media outlets who never miss a chance to brand any criticism of minority appeasement as “communal” are now conspicuously silent. Where are the self-proclaimed defenders of democracy and secularism—those who once wore black bands to protest against the Citizenship Amendment Act and the NRC? Why this selective outrage? Why is there no candlelight march, no prime-time debate, no editorial outcry from the newspapers that never fail to express their “concern” whenever Ram Navami is celebrated?
The communists can be held primarily responsible for breaking the spirit of the people of West Bengal and for cultivating hatred among Hindus toward Hindutva. Even if indirectly, they bear responsibility for the situation of Bengal right now. I am reminded of a recent incident of this year—just before Ram Navami—when the CPM committee of Jangipara, in the Hooghly district of West Bengal, sent a letter to the administration. In it, they wrote, “There may be unrest in the area on the day of Ram Navami due to the activities of aggressive Hindutva organisations.” It’s astonishing to think that they always sense the possibility of violence only when there’s a Hindu event or celebration. But when actual acts of violence unfold before their eyes, they remain completely silent. This is a classic example of their pseudo-secularism.
Bengal was once known for its sharp intelligentsia — thinkers who spoke truth to power, who carried the torch of free speech and cultural pride. But today’s intellectual class in Bengal seems hijacked by political correctness and ideological confusion. The voices that once wrote essays defending freedom of expression of a particular religion are silent when temples are desecrated.
Let us be clear — this is not a Hindu vs Muslim issue. This is about rule of law vs religious overreach. This is about the citizen’s right to property and dignity. It is about ensuring that no community, regardless of majority or minority status, becomes a tool in the hands of political power brokers. Waqf Boards, in theory, exist to manage religious endowments. But in practice, they have become opaque and largely unaccountable bodies with a shocking lack of transparency. The recent amendment proposals that seek to give them more power, without judicial oversight or citizen recourse, deserve widespread public scrutiny — but Bengal is watching it all with tired eyes and sealed lips.
Imagine if Swami Vivekananda were alive today. Would he have remained silent? Never. He warned us against hypocrisy disguised as tolerance. His dream of India was one of spiritual nationalism, where Dharma was not merely ritualistic religion, but righteousness, justice, and inner strength. He would have raised his voice against any law that disrupts societal balance. He would have called for self-respect among Hindus without hatred for others. If Bengal wants to reclaim the moral authority that once made it the conscience of India, it must start thinking again — and thinking bravely. It must challenge political hypocrisy, stand for legal fairness, and speak up against selective secularism. Let Bengal rise again — not in hatred, but in harmony. Not in conflict, but in courage. And certainly not in silence.
Comments