I was part of a panel at the India International Center, Delhi, on 18 Feb, 2025, to discuss a book, Social Scientists in the Civic Space (Routledge, 2025), edited by Arundhati Virmani, Jean Boutier, and Manohar Kumar. To begin with, panelists were invited to offer their views on the book. This is the text of my statement. —Namit Arora
Thank you for inviting me for this discussion. I think the issue of social scientists engaging with civic spaces is a crucial one. The excellent book we’re discussing today examines this engagement through four key dimensions: context, modes of intervention, involvement, and ethical considerations. Its approach is largely historical, offering insights into how scholars have navigated these dimensions in different times and countries.
For instance, in discussing context, the book explores the civic spaces of specific societies at particular times—analyzing their political milieu, education systems, media landscapes, social science institutions, and more. When addressing intervention and involvement, it examines the diverse roles scholars have played—as teachers, policy advisors, public intellectuals, social activists—and how they influenced civic discourse and policy.
As I read, I kept thinking: How does this framework apply to contemporary India? What challenges do we face in terms of context and modes of intervention or involvement? One way to respond to this book—and to even extend its ideas—is to examine the present situation of social scientists in India and their opportunities for public engagement. That’s what I’ll do in the time I have, using history as the paradigmatic social science.
I’ll do this not as an academic historian, which I’m not. My formal training was in technology, but after college, over three decades ago, my interests shifted towards history and other social sciences. Most of my writing today falls under what might be called ‘public history’, a genre that helps bridge the gap between academic research and the wider public. So I have something of a view of both sides—academic history and civic spaces—in India.
§
The past half-century has produced many brilliant historians of India, pursuing a range of historiographies—not just based in India, but globally. They have also written accessible books for broad audiences, at least in English. But Indian historians now operate in a difficult context, which has at least the following three components.
The first is the political context. It’s hardly news that the current Hindu nationalist regime is hostile to academic history and critical thinking. Its ideologues claim that historians have ‘betrayed the Hindus’ and so they seek to rewrite history as a glorious story of ‘their people’. They need that story to justify their present-day politics—the project of the Hindu Rashtra. History is not an empirical discipline to them but a political weapon, and a tool for competition and scoring points.
So in their version, Indo-Aryans are indigenous to India, the Harappan Civilization is Vedic, Sanskrit is the mother of all languages, the Vedas contain advanced scientific insights, and Hindus were a prosperous, harmonious people until Muslim invaders destroyed their glorious, ‘sone ki chidiya’ civilization. In their nostalgic fantasy, pre-Muslim India boasted great cities, flourishing science, and thriving universities. Brahmins spread their love of learning and lived austere lives, caste was fluid and based on aptitude, and women were held in high regard.
This regime’s ideologues actively push such feel-good stories as actual history. School textbooks are being rewritten without any input from credible historians. And because academic historians reject these distortions, they are branded ‘cultural Marxists’ and are often seen as enemies of the people. So that’s the political context.
The second is the educational context. It relates to our very impoverished idea of education. The social sciences are poorly understood, especially among the educated middle classes. Many of our key institutions are now run by engineers, lawyers, and business majors, who often lack even a basic appreciation for disciplines like history and sociology. There is little emphasis on critical thinking even in our premier institutions of science and technology. I see this lack in my peers from the IIT system. Education is seen as acquiring narrowly lucrative skills to get ahead in a rat race, not as a way of cultivating intellectual curiosity or scientific temper.
This problem runs deep. When I was growing up, middle-class students were herded into two streams: engineering and medicine. If a student showed interest in history, civics, literature, or the arts, people would whisper: ‘He’s clearly not bright enough for engineering or medicine. Why else would he choose that?’ This mercenary attitude towards learning still dominates our middle classes. As a result, most ‘educated Indians’ lack the tools to critically assess historical claims—making them sitting ducks for Hindutva storytelling. So that’s the educational context.
The third is the media context. We all know about the explosion of ‘WhatsApp History’—a broad term for sensational and partisan storytelling whose roots are over a century old. This ecosystem is now powered by a large and decentralized army of content creators—many of whom are suave and articulate engineers, lawyers, and MBAs—who have mastered the new mediums through which people now learn: social media, podcasts, YouTube, talk shows, reels, and slickly made films. They have successfully harnessed digital platforms to propagate Hindutva storytelling and to shape public consciousness.
And their narratives are seductive: they tap into fear, resentment, and nationalistic pride, weaving conspiracy theories and a chauvinistic vision of a Hindu nation. Mainstream media, now almost entirely captive to Hindutva politics, amplifies these narratives. And the regime actively rewards these content creators—with funding, ads, awards, positions of influence, and access to power. So that is the media context.
In short, academic historians in India face enormous structural challenges: a government hostile to critical scholarship, an educational ethos that devalues the social sciences, and a powerful media ecosystem of chauvinistic storytelling using the most advanced tools and communication technologies we’ve ever had.
§
Given this context, what opportunities do academic historians have to engage with civic spaces?
Unfortunately, working with the government to shape history curricula, research priorities, or heritage investments is not currently a viable option. Nor are historians consulted on historical controversies that require expert insight. So this important avenue remains largely blocked.
But there are many other ways for historians to engage. For decades, they have written accessible books for the public, though mostly in English, with some in translation. But not many people read history books today. And the world has changed dramatically in the last two decades. Most people now acquire knowledge through videos, podcasts, social media, historical dramas, and short articles, often in regional languages. This is where Hindutva storytellers have excelled, while academic historians have largely been absent. They remain stuck in what might be called the ‘Internet stone age.’
Where, for instance, is an academic’s lucidly narrated video—rich in visuals and animation—that clearly explains the origins of caste? Or a history of actual science in ancient India? Or other contentious aspects of history? The rarity of historians in these spaces is glaring. They really need to rethink their approach to knowledge dissemination, including in regional languages.
Another crucial role for historians is to challenge bad history and conspiracy theories on social and mainstream media. With tact and erudition, they should respond to the work of influential content creators, offering well-reasoned counter-narratives. But it’s not happening. Meanwhile, books with Hindutva narratives from the likes of Sanjeev Sanyal, Vikram Sampath, J Sai Deepak, Rajiv Malhotra, Amish Tripathi and others outsell academic works by a factor of 10 to 100. And yet, academic historians rarely review them, rarely challenge their distortions, rarely engage with their ideas (a rare example). Do they review prime-time historical dramas? Why this silence? Those with subject-matter expertise should be publicly highlighting the serious flaws in these popular texts that are deeply influencing young minds.
Some scholars may argue that their collective silence is driven by fear, as in fear of online abuse, harassment, physical threats, institutional penalties, and even arrest or legal action. Sadly, this fear is real. Indian trolls are world-famous for their incivility, esp. towards women. In this domain, we truly are vishwagurus! But academics may be ceding far more ground to fear than is warranted today. It is still possible to push back with reasoned, non-combative arguments—to keep insisting that what is being peddled as history is, in fact, not history, and explaining why. Many non-academics who also care about credible history are already doing this in public forums. Yes, many non-academics are doing that. If more professional historians joined them, they would find an audience—and help nurture and amplify a public culture of reason, critical thinking, and good judgment.
Some academics may be tempted to explain away their silence as pragmatism or some other philosophical descriptor. But another term for it may be cowardice. The need of the hour is not careerist social scientists producing esoteric monographs that only a few fellow academics will ever read. What’s required is a balance between personal research and public engagement. Many more social scientists in India need to actively embrace the channels still open to them to disseminate knowledge in creative ways, fight public disinformation, and vocally defend their disciplines—before it is too late. Thank you.
_____________
Namit Arora is a writer and author of three books. His most recent work contributes to public history through a web series titled Indians: A Brief History of a Civilization.
Comments