ABSTRACT
Though the history of forced human displacement goes back to the beginning of humanity itself, it is now one of the major global crises which the first two decades of the 21st century actualized on a never-before experienced scale and instrumentalization. New methods of remote warfare like cyberattacks and unmanned drones have heavily altered the perception of a conflict, and—as a result—the very perception of human suffering itself. Humankind is dissociated from individual dignity, only to be measured as a statistical number in a casualty report, with utter disregard to culture, family, freedom and life. Under the propagandistic guise of the most peaceful time in the history of humankind, war has actually never appeared to be this close before, intrinsically attaching itself to our very identity and existence. There hasn’t been a recent comprehensive philosophical examination to understand the effects of modern notions of warfare on an individual’s self, while manifestations such as displacement appear to the so-called pragmatic ruling class just as a little more than an “Us vs Them” problem.
At a time of humanitarian crises around India, with the influx of refugees from Myanmar and Sri Lanka during the last decade, rehabilitation and integration will be incomplete without an introspection of Indian identity over the course of post-independence. Mahatma Gandhi’s empathy towards his enemies arises precisely from his realization of how identity is fragile and dynamic, but also cohesive and non-underminable at the same time. At this juncture, it is imperative to listen to Slavoj Žižek, the Slovenian philosopher, who has been warning us for more than a decade that we are moving towards a global catastrophe. At a time of increasing polarization among the people, Žižek speaks from a place that calls for questioning the very fundamental understanding of the state of normalcy, rather than ascribe to rigid meanings in language. For instance, he provocatively suggests that Gandhi was more violent than Hitler, and in doing so, he, contrary to the first impression of him trying to dilute Hitler’s violence, actually intends to question our understanding of what violence itself constitutes, including systemic social change.
India’s political culture has become polarized, with ultra-conservatives, conservative pragmatists, liberal democrats and the ultra-left being unable to share a common national reality. In fact, such labels borrowed from the contemporary West are very inaccurate in describing the various ideological positions taken up in India. Žižek invites us not to undermine the complexity of cultural affiliations and criticizes the liberal left of being guilty of engaging in precisely that. Therefore, with the idea of India now being introspected at the backdrop of forced displacement and Hindu-nationalism, Žižek’s call for the right kind of questions to be asked, collectively, becomes all the more relevant. Given that asking the right kind of questions is the way forward to build a progressive consensus, Žižek’s perspective of power and politics offers a very useful tool to formulate localized narratives to confront the crisis unfolding before us.
