Several core claims require significant scholarly qualification. My primary concerns are as follows:
1. The paper’s central thesis relies on a direct, largely un-nuanced application of the term ‘fascism’ to the contemporary Indian political phenomenon of Hindutva. While the author rightly identifies alarming authoritarian tendencies, majoritarian nationalism, and violent communalism, the historical specificity of ‘fascism’ as a European, early 20th-century ideology with distinct characteristics (e.g., a revolutionary anti-capitalist wing, a totalitarian state model, extreme militarism) is glossed over. Conflating these contexts risks analytical imprecision. A more rigorous framework, such as ‘ethnic democracy,’ ‘illiberal democracy,’ or ‘authoritarian populism,’ might offer a more precise and less historically fraught lens for the Indian case, which operates within a vibrant, though beleaguered, democratic structure.
2. The argument posits a direct causal pathway from audiovisual texts (memes, films, WhatsApp forwards) to real-world violence (lynchings, discrimination). While correlation is convincingly demonstrated, the methodological approach of intertextual analysis is not designed to establish causation. The paper would be strengthened by engaging with quantitative social science research on media effects, which acknowledges media as a significant reinforcing and enabling factor, but rarely as a sole or direct cause. The complex interplay of economic anxiety, political opportunism, local caste dynamics, and institutional failure as co-factors in violence is underplayed in favor of a media-centric explanation.
3. The analysis presents ‘caste Hindus’ and the ‘Hindu fascist ecosystem’ as a largely monolithic bloc. This overlooks the profound heterogeneity, internal criticisms, and political diversity within Hindu society and even among BJP voters. Many Hindus oppose the BJP’s majoritarian agenda on religious, ethical, or political grounds. Furthermore, the BJP’s electoral coalition includes support from segments of Dalit and Adivasi communities, attracted by welfare schemes and promises of social mobility, a complexity that the paper’s framework of uniform ‘fascist’ adherence cannot adequately capture. This lack of nuance risks mirroring the very homogenization the author critiques.
4. The paper operates from a clear and explicit normative position, which is a valid scholarly choice. However, it does not adequately acknowledge this positionality or rigorously engage with the counter-narratives and justifications offered by the actors it studies. For instance, government policies like the abrogation of Article 370 or the CAA are presented solely through the lens of majoritarian oppression, without addressing the stated security, administrative, or humanitarian rationales (however contested they may be). A more robust analysis would subject these state narratives to the same intertextual and critical scrutiny, rather than dismissing them out of hand. This would strengthen the argument by preemptively neutralizing counterclaims.