Modern India: Wiping the Tears Away

Yet beyond a tiny, wealthy elite, the story for millions of Indian citizens today is far less glamorous, tarnished by an inequality and poverty compounded by bitter divisions of religious creed, caste and class.

How do the realities of modern India impact its citizens across society, and what form might solutions take?

Shining India

Most of us have probably heard about the shining version of India that’s linked to big business and high-profile billionaires—home to high-rises, mega malls and multiplexes; to the hugely successful information technology sector; and to skilled scientific and technical personnel. That version might also include the glamour and spectacle of Bollywood or stars of the cricket pitch.

Undoubtedly India’s many achievements since securing independence have been impressive. According to the International Monetary Fund (IMF) World Economic Outlook, in 2024 India was the fifth-largest economy in the world. The engine of that economy clearly benefits from having one of the largest domestic markets on earth.

The achievements of modern India extend well beyond economic success, however. Raghuram G. Rajan, a former governor of the Reserve Bank of India and the IMF’s chief economist, and Rohit Lamba, an assistant professor at New York University–Abu Dhabi, note that India has also become the fourth country to reach the moon and the first to land a rover at the moon’s south pole.

Such high-profile successes are complemented by the energy and capability of grassroots organizations—for example, the Self Employed Women’s Association, which empowers 2.9 million women and fosters social mobility across 18 states.

Noble Ideals

In August 1947, after 89 years of the British Raj (the final period of their 300-plus years in India), the British finally left. The hope of those experiencing this new dawn was entirely inclusive: they longed not merely for a thriving India but an India in which every citizen could thrive.

On the eve of independence, Jawaharlal Nehru, leader of the Indian National Congress (INC) party and the new prime minister, gave his famous “Tryst With Destiny” speech, in which he said, “The ambition of the greatest man of our generation [referring to Mahatma Gandhi] has been to wipe every tear from every eye.”

While Gandhi indeed considered this a personal mission, the ideal of wiping away every tear has its origin in the Bible (Isaiah 25:8; Revelation 7:17; 21:4), which Gandhi—though not a Christian—endeavored to study; he said in one of his speeches, “I consider it as part of my scriptures.” In the Bible, the wiping away of tears indicates hope for an end to suffering for all. Practically applied today at the individual level, we might view it as everyone exhibiting care for their “neighbors,” whoever they might be.

India was a nation of many faiths, among them Hinduism, Islam, Christianity and Sikhism. Still, at that juncture in its history, any concerns about religious divisions impeding shared success were mitigated, because the INC was a secular party with high levels of support.

When the constitution became effective on January 26, 1950, India officially became a democratic republic. The prominent Islamic scholar and activist for interfaith harmony, Asghar Ali Engineer, notes that at this point “all citizens of India, irrespective of their caste, creed, color, and sex got equal rights and became equal before law.”

“It was a great social revolution for the people of India in a Caste-ridden hierarchical society where [a] large number of people were treated as untouchables.”

The stage was set to “wipe every tear from every eye” and for all to share in modern India’s anticipated success—in theory, at least.

Another India

Despite high ideals, problems persisted into the postindependence period. According to Ashoka Mody, a visiting professor in international economic policy at Princeton University, Nehru “lost his heavy-industry gamble. . . . Jobs grew anemically, high inflation rates eroded incomes, and dire poverty persisted.” Following World War II, Indian manufacturing languished compared to that of China, Japan, Hong Kong and South Korea. And while India has made rapid industrial progress in more recent times, insufficient enforcement of environmental laws means that Delhi earned the dubious distinction of being the most polluted capital city in the world in 2023.

As some view it, when the colonialists left, the problem of human greed remained behind. Little changed beyond the actors. The late Surendra Mohan, a socialist thinker and political leader, observed that “the colonial model was kept intact. The only difference, and it was a strategic difference, was that capital accumulation served our capitalists and not the foreigners.”

As such, the present state of India is anything but shining for all of its citizens. The reality for millions is that they remain trapped in a state of inequality and poverty. Many still need the tears to be wiped away. Mody argues that in the period since independence there has been a consistent failure to create basic “public goods” for all—“education, health, vibrant cities, a fair judicial system, and a clean environment”—which he posits are “essential for good jobs and human welfare.”

Amid rising inequality, Mody’s caution about the prospects for the future is founded on past failures. Chiming with Mohan, he argues that moments of economic liberalization in India, such as 1991, further “overlaid a ‘me-me-me’ culture on persisting corruption and criminals in politics.” Moreover, he writes, “individualism . . . meant a greedy rush for access to privilege while the marketplace struggled to work its magic.” In some cases the rich and powerful in India disengaged, moved abroad and ceased to call for public goods for the poor. Those who remained, he claims, “used their power and privilege to grab rather than create.”

Gandhi insightfully said, in essence, that there was enough for everyone’s need but not for everyone’s greed. Academic Rajesh Chakrabarti observes that “Gandhian principles, while receiving periodic lip-service, have largely been ignored in shaping the priorities of the country and that has been responsible for a development process that bypasses the masses first and then reaches them through an indirect ‘trickle-down’ rather than passing through them first.”

“I venture to suggest . . . that Nature produces enough for our wants from day-to-day, and if only everybody took enough for himself and nothing more, there would be no pauperism in this world.”

Whether individuals can realize improved wealth and opportunity depends in part on how and where they live. On the one hand, 36 percent of the population live in urban environments. Ralph Buultjens, a professor at New York University, defines this urban setting as “the India of modern industry, national politics and foreign policy, government planning, the national media, the major universities, business, the armed forces, science and technology.” By contrast, the remaining 64 percent live far away from the action in rural environments, where change is slow. When the cosmopolitan and rural spheres come together, India’s success levels increase. When they don’t, the size of the divide significantly impedes progress. Any trickle-down is thus disproportionately felt.

For example, a tragic epidemic of suicide among Indian small farmers has been directly attributed to increasing costs. In 2018, over half of agricultural households in India were in debt according to a survey conducted by the National Statistical Office (NSO). The National Crime Record Bureau in India, meanwhile, conservatively estimates that 11,290 persons engaged in the farming sector took their own lives in 2022, and at least 112,000 in the last decade.

To be sure, for a nation to become a democracy is no guarantee against self-interest and political corruption. Some perceive a reliance on black money (funds raised illegally and/or not reported for tax purposes) and political short-termism as having stymied the rollout of public goods nationwide. In addition, according to estimates, as much as 48 percent of India’s wealth has at times sat in Swiss bank accounts. Mody further notes that in 2019, over 25 percent of Indian parliament members reportedly faced charges including, among others, “murder, kidnapping, and extortion.”

Mody’s contention is that “rather than strive to provide public goods on a scale that opened opportunities for all, political leaders presented themselves as saviors who granted access to scarce public goods, often as easy-to-advertise freebies.” This, he argues, was to cynically ensure a constancy of demand. Others share that view. For example, Rajan has long observed the rise of what he calls “the venal politician” in India. Such a politician doesn’t seek to provide beneficial systemic reforms for the underprivileged. Rather, Rajan suggests, he is merely “the crutch that helps the poor and underprivileged navigate a system that gives them so little access.”

If we take employment as one example, weak job creation leading to unemployment and underemployment has been a key lack throughout the history of independent India. A 2019 Pew research report indicated that 76 percent of Indians surveyed said their biggest worry was the lack of employment opportunities, itself a worrying trend for a country where, according to Pew, close to half of citizens are under the age of 25.

The employment shortfall has given rise to timepass, a word that India’s English speakers began using around 1990 to describe what the unemployed do as they await job openings. To employ all working-age Indians, however, Mody says the economy would need “to create 200 million jobs over the next decade,” a task he deems “impossible.”

“Timepass . . . generally carries the connotation that the activity, even if harmless, is neither serious nor productive, because it is merely intended to kill time and ward off potential boredom.”

The Rise of Hindu Nationalism

India’s persistent divisions between caste, class and religion have fundamentally inhibited equality for all and thus the goal to “wipe every tear from every eye.”

For example, as part of their hasty retreat in 1947, the British carved up “British India,” creating Pakistan from two nonadjacent regions of the country. Suchitra Vijayan, a journalist, barrister and former employee of the United Nations war crimes tribunals in Yugoslavia and Rwanda, calls it a “botched amputation.”

Hindus and Sikhs living in the new West and East Pakistan (the latter renamed Bangladesh after gaining its own independence in 1971) had to emigrate to India from their ancestral homes. Muslims, meanwhile—who had been equal occupants of India for centuries—were suddenly cast as foreigners. The resulting displacement of millions led to a massive refugee crisis as well as violence. Notably, a young Hindu fanatic, incensed by Gandhi’s efforts to reconcile the religious factions, assassinated the pacifist leader as he made his way to prayer on January 30, 1948. By the time the great migration concluded later that year, say Harvard researchers, between 15 and 18 million people had relocated across the new borders, and as many as 3 million (or more, by some estimates) were dead.

Echoes of a divided society are still evident in India, exacerbated by increasing inequality. The sense of being trapped and the fact that wealth generated through globalization failed to trickle down to “lower” classes and castes helped create a support base for the Hindu nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP, or Indian People’s Party). The party has its roots in Hindutva, an ethnonationalist political ideology that defines India in terms of Hindu hegemony.

Inequality Is a Choice

Ideologies are about what we choose to believe. In Thomas Piketty’s Capital and Ideology, the author explores the past and current political-economic choices we’ve made.

Thomas Piketty, professor at the Paris School of Economics, notes that the BJP describes itself as “the largest political party in the world,” larger even than the Chinese Communist Party. The BJP took sole power in 2014, standing against a perceived Islamic threat. Piketty observes that when most don’t benefit from globalization, parties the world over can “turn up the identitarian rhetoric, be it anti-Muslim or anti-Latino.”

Mody notes that with the rise of the BJP, “the ‘angry Hindu’ became Hindutva’s foot soldier.” French political scientist and Indologist Christophe Jaffrelot agrees that the BJP is aligned with “angry young men,” even as anti-Muslim violence has erupted in the name of politics.

“‘Angry Hindus,’ ever ready for combat with Muslims and others perceived as opponents, became agents of xenophobic nationalism.”

Jaffrelot suggests that the party and the prime minister, Narendra Modi, rode to power through the blending of populism and Hindutva. He observes that at times Modi’s supporters introduced him as “the Hindu Hriday Samrat (the Emperor of Hindu Hearts)”; their 2014 campaign slogan translates as “Good days are on the way.” While Modi was chief minister in Gujarat in the early 2000s, that state’s gross domestic product grew by a meager 0.2 percent (from 1.1 percent above the national average to 1.3 percent), yet it was enough for his supporters to put Modi and the “Gujarat Model” forward as a solution for all India.

But after more than a decade under Modi as prime minister, there’s still a sizable gap between “shining India” and reality; while some at the poorer end of society may have helped the BJP to power, they aren’t feeling an economic benefit. Further, India’s Muslim population suffers active persecution.

Aakar Patel, chair of Amnesty International’s Indian board, notes that in terms of multiple global rankings, “the record leaves little room for debate or dispute. The scale and rapidity of decline in governance after 2014 is manifest.” The reason, he says, is that while a doctrine of hatred toward those deemed undesirable may be popular, “there is no text on Hindutva economics or on Hindutva strategic affairs” to serve as a framework for actual governance; in Patel’s view, that’s because India’s ruling right-wing “considers it unimportant.”

Broken Yet Hopeful

Despite what some perceive as a threat to the constitutional republic and democracy of India, several commentators remain hopeful for the future. What might such a future look like?

In the early phase of the COVID-19 pandemic, a poignant photograph surfaced on Indian social media. It showed Mohammad Saiyub, a 22-year-old Muslim, cradling the head of his friend, Amrit Kumar, a 24-year-old Dalit (a term for those previously known as untouchables, the lowest tier in the centuries-old Hindu caste system).

The two friends were originally from Uttar Pradesh. They had left the subsistence existence of tiny farms in search of employment in the Gujarat city of Surat, where they found work in textile factories. This basic outline is a common story in India. But on March 24, 2020, the government announced an immediate nationwide lockdown. Most businesses, including Surat’s textile industry, were shut down. When the two friends’ savings ran out, they and others like them began the long, scorching journey home to the villages.

Hitching a lift with other migrants in an overcrowded truck, Amrit developed a high fever. With fellow passengers fearing COVID-19, they insisted Amrit get out. Saiyub chose to go with him. The Indian magazine Outlook reported that they were dropped off “where a few good samaritans were serving food and water to migrant labourers in transit.” Waiting on the roadside for an ambulance, Saiyub cradled Amrit’s head and poured water on his lips. This was the moment when the iconic photo was taken. Amrit died later in a nearby hospital, not from COVID-19 but from severe dehydration caused by the 109-degree Fahrenheit (43 Celsius) heat.

Some have taken the photo as a poignant reflection of the true state of modern India. To Mody, “seventy-three years after independence, the photograph of Saiyub holding Amrit revealed how broken the Indian economy was.” He writes, “The photograph explained why, among those who did go to the cities, at least 100 million Indians were ‘temporary’ or ‘circular’ migrants, living on subsistence wages in cramped and unhygienic housing from which they often returned home.”

In a more positive way, the photo demonstrated hope for the healing of bitter religious divides in modern India that are impeding shared success for all. Mody quotes journalist and award-winning author Basharat Peer, who described the friendship of the two men across the religious divide of Muslim and Hindu as “like a gentle rain from heaven” on what he called India’s “hate-filled public-sphere.”

Fellow journalist Vijayan also remains hopeful for a better future, saying that “if not for us, we owe it to our children, to purge this hate that has separated families and histories over seventy years.” In terms of the actions of the BJP toward the “Other,” Piketty notes that “this is a debate about the very boundaries of the community, and in this case the frontier is internal.”

“Hindu nationalists are arguing that only some members of the community are legitimate, and the rest must either submit or leave.”

Wiping Away the Tears

The founding ideals of an independent India included the goal to “wipe every tear from every eye.” Despite achieving great success on many levels, that high ideal has yet to be achieved, whether in India or the rest of the world. Perhaps, as Piketty says, “the frontier is internal.”

Mody suggests that “India’s problems run deep, for which reason there are no policy or technological magic bullets.” This is because, as Piketty implies, greed and hatred are problems that can exist within the heart of every one of us. They prevent everyone being able to thrive together. To resolve them would take deep solutions requiring each of us to accept that neighbor is anyone with whom we travel the road of life, irrespective of self-interest or perceived divisions or differences.

While we are all individually free to practice that kind of personal duty of care today, of course, it’s hard to see how the miracle of “no more tears” could arrive as a universal reality. Yet the Dalai Lama wrote that “although attempting to bring about world peace through the internal transformation of individuals is difficult, it is the only way.” Collective change can’t happen without individual change.

Perhaps we can get a glimpse of what such a universal future will look like in the profound image of Mohammad Saiyub, the Muslim, cradling the head of his friend and neighbor Amrit Kumar, the Dalit. As Peer suggested, in that image of hope we can truly perceive something as refreshing as “a gentle rain from heaven.”