At the sidelines of the 79th United Nations General Assembly (UNGA), an Indian NGO, RSKS, unveiled a glossy new book titled The Soul of Bharat — a carefully curated narrative of India as a timeless beacon of peace, unity, and pluralism. On the surface, this launch might seem like another cultural diplomacy event. But beneath the veneer of heritage and harmony lies a calculated exercise in soft power propaganda — an attempt by New Delhi to whitewash its dismal record of human rights abuses, minority persecution, and regional destabilization.
This is not the first time India has used global platforms to project a sanitized self-image. But this latest spectacle represents a deeper hypocrisy: while New Delhi speaks the language of secularism and constitutionalism abroad, it erodes both at home through divisive Hindutva policies and authoritarian governance. The Soul of Bharat narrative is not about truth — it is about manufacturing legitimacy in the eyes of the world.
Central to the book’s messaging is the glorification of India’s “secular” and “constitutional” fabric. Yet this claim collapses under even cursory scrutiny. Over the past decade, the Modi government has systematically hollowed out secularism from India’s political and social order. The rise of Hindutva ideology has not only marginalized religious minorities but institutionalized discrimination through policies and state machinery.
Mob lynchings, demolition of Muslim homes without due process, targeted laws like the Citizenship Amendment Act, and hate speeches by ruling party members have turned India into a hostile space for its own citizens. Christians face increasing attacks on churches and missionaries. Dalits continue to endure caste-based violence. This is the real “soul” of Bharat today — a nation where constitutional ideals are weaponized selectively and secularism has become a rhetorical tool rather than a lived reality.
The book also references the April 2025 Pahalgam attack, using it to project India as a perpetual victim of terrorism. But this narrative is less about security and more about political utility. New Delhi routinely exploits such incidents to internationalize its victimhood, demonize Pakistan, and justify heavy-handed militarization in Indian Illegally Occupied Jammu and Kashmir (IIOJK).
This selective invocation of terrorism conveniently omits India’s own long history of state-sponsored violence — from cross-border subversion to targeted assassinations abroad, as documented in recent cases in Canada and the United States. Moreover, by framing every act of violence solely through the lens of external interference, India refuses to confront the domestic political and social failures that fuel unrest, particularly in Kashmir and the northeast.
The “bulldozer politics” seen across Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh — where homes of Muslims accused of protests are razed without trial — epitomizes the collapse of the rule of law. Journalists are jailed on dubious charges. Civil society groups are strangled through financial restrictions. Political dissent is equated with sedition. In such a reality, India’s self-portrait as a champion of rights is less a reflection and more a distortion — a carefully edited image designed to deceive international audiences.
Themes of women’s empowerment and heritage preservation feature prominently in the book’s narrative — but these too serve as shields to deflect scrutiny. Crimes against women in India remain among the highest globally, and conviction rates remain abysmally low. Meanwhile, “heritage preservation” increasingly means the politicized rewriting of history, where Mughal-era mosques and Muslim cultural symbols are targeted for demolition or appropriation, as seen in the Gyanvapi Mosque and Babri Masjid disputes.
Culture is no longer merely a source of pride; it is now a weapon in the ideological project of Hindutva, deployed to erase Muslim identity from India’s historical memory. Dressing this up as “heritage diplomacy” on a global stage is a cynical attempt to reframe cultural exclusion as national revival.
Far from being a celebration of cultural values or constitutional ideals, The Soul of Bharat launch at the UNGA is a strategic communications operation — a soft power weapon crafted to rebrand an increasingly illiberal state. It is an attempt to replace uncomfortable truths with comforting stories, to distract the international community from the erosion of democracy, the rise of Hindu majoritarianism, and the systematic persecution of minorities.
The world must not fall for this performance. Cultural showcases and polished narratives cannot erase the brutal realities on the ground. The true test of a nation’s soul is not how it markets itself abroad, but how it treats its people at home. Until India confronts and reforms its record of repression, no amount of book launches can conceal the chasm between its rhetoric and its reality.