In an age where questioning power can invite political labels, A.L. Sharada examines the curious leap from being a feminist, leftist or “urban Naxal” to an “Intellectual Naxalite” — and asks whether asking questions, challenging policies and demanding accountability are now being treated as acts of subversion.
I seem to have acquired a new identity.
For years, I was quite happy being disparagingly called a feminist, a leftist and, occasionally, an “urban Naxal”. Now, apparently, I have graduated. I am an Intellectual Naxalite.
I have to admit, the title has a certain gravitas.
But I am slightly confused about the qualification criteria.
I thought an intellectual was someone who asked questions, analysed issues, dissected arguments, examined systems and, preferably, changed their mind when confronted with a convincing counterargument. Someone who believed that inequality and injustice could be addressed through changes in laws, policies, institutions, attitudes and mindsets.
Ofcourse, I know of a few who have used their intellectual reasoning to influence and inspire on-ground dissent, revolutions and revolts.
A Naxalite, as I understand the term, explores some of the same questions but believes that the existing system is fundamentally oppressive and that armed revolution is the way to overthrow it.
So how exactly did I get from “Why is this happening?” — confused soul — to “Down with the establishment, with guns and grenades”? Intellectual Naxalite?
I am still struggling to understand this leap.
I am particularly amused by the idea that questioning the system is evidence that one wants to destroy it. If I complain about potholes, does that make me an anti-road activist? If I criticise the government, am I planning a coup? If I question patriarchy, am I preparing to eliminate men?
Perhaps I should be more careful.
“Excuse me, why is this policy failing?”
Oops. Intellectual Naxalite.
“What evidence do you have for that claim?”
Urban Naxal.
“Women should have equal opportunities.”
Feminist.
“Capitalism needs questioning.”
Leftist.
“The system needs to change.”
Intellectual.
“Can we please discuss this rationally?”
Most dangerous person. Keep under surveillance.
The funny thing is that I have spent much of my life doing something remarkably harmless: wondering.
I wonder why some people have so much and others so little. I wonder why perfectly sensible laws fail. I wonder why institutions behave irrationally. I wonder why attitudes that everyone agrees are wrong continue to survive. I wonder whether things could be done differently.
And then, occasionally, I give my two bits on the subject.
That, apparently, is enough to make me suspicious.
Perhaps the world would indeed be a much quieter place if people like me stopped asking questions. No inconvenient debates. No uncomfortable conversations. No one pointing out contradictions. No one saying, “But why?”
It would be wonderfully peaceful.
Democracy would be completely silenced.
Perhaps it is time to relieve all these Intellectual Naxalites from government positions and policy-making bodies. Let the government get on with its job and pursue its agenda, unquestioned, for a better India. After all, what could possibly go wrong when nobody asks questions?
However, I choose to continue asking questions and risk remaining an Intellectual Naxalite, at least for now
I promise to keep my weapons — questions, arguments, books and the occasional newspaper column — sharpened.
They may be surprisingly dangerous too, at times.
(The writer is a sociologist and media advocacy specialist & Director, Population First)
