Revisiting Feelings and Bodily Discomfort: “Affect” of Hindu Nationalism

The World Happiness Report 2025, released on March 20, 2025, places India at a dismal 118th out of 147 countries, forcing the nation to confront it’s own decomposition. Compiled by the Wellbeing Research Centre at the University of Oxford in collaboration with Gallup and the UN Sustainable Development Solutions Network, the report lays bare the emotional landscape of a nation grappling with economic and social challenges.

Throughout history, economic and social structures have shaped not just material conditions but also dominant emotional states. The 19th century, marked by industrial capitalism, was defined by misery. Workers endured grueling conditions in factories, long hours, and little social mobility, making suffering the emotional backdrop of the era. With the rise of Fordism in the 20th century—characterized by mass production, stable employment, and standardized routines—boredom became the primary affect. The rigid structures of factory work and bureaucratic life dulled spontaneity and creativity, leaving individuals searching for meaning beyond their repetitive labor.

However, neoliberalism—marked by deregulation, precarious work, and the growing fascism—has given rise to anxiety as the defining emotional state. Unlike earlier periods, where the source of suffering was more tangible (poor working conditions or monotonous labor), neoliberal anxiety stems from instability. Jobs are no longer secure, social safety nets are eroding, and personal success is increasingly tied to relentless self-optimization. Individuals live under constant pressure to compete, hustle, and prove their worth, feeding a cycle of stress and insecurity. In India, it’s not a public secret anymore that we depend on sickly but refusing to die traditions in the name of “Indian culture” trapped between the Laws of Manu – Hindu Dharmashashtras and trifling neoliberal order which have capitalized on Hindutva, as if the subjects don’t suffer from systematic violence, dispossession, or trauma under the guise of ‘social rights.’

The banal affirmation of the current Hindutva politics is encountered by our bodies differently. If we hear the national anthem on road or movie halls now, or the celebration of figures like Nathuram Godse—whose birth anniversary was recently marked by the Hindu Sena group—on May 19, 2024 in Ahmedabad, it forces us to self-surveillance and constant re-testing, which catapults our bodies into national subjects. There can be feelings of lighthearted grief, quiet vengeance or even spectacular ‘jouissance’ which gets attached to our bodies as we experience a nation. Currently, the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) has heavily invested in Hindutva, advocating for Hindu cultural and political dominance not just in political institutions but in media, education, civil society, NGOs, and the arts restoring a mythical past of Bharat, identifying itself against an outsider/other. Despite popular attachment to this narrative, the underlying anxiety—fueled by economic precarity and social instability—remains unaddressed. Our means of survival to flourish is deeply tied to capital, which in turn desensitizes us to real human contact.

The question, however, is not why people are unhappy or alienated, but how these emotions are embodied in a compressed space and time. These emotions reshape the way we experience national symbols, practices, and events and in turn, re-shape certain feelings (patriotism, fear, anger, dissent, grief, or resentment). In the March 2025 budget presentation, Delhi’s new CM Rekha Gupta promised a tourism hub and infrastructure improvements, framing these initiatives as a way to restore public happiness through better governance.

Delhi’s residents have long expressed frustration over issues such as potholes, traffic congestion, and inconsistent water supply in areas like Rohini, Mangolpuri, and Janakpuri. The recent tragedy at New Delhi Railway Station during the Maha Kumbh Mela stampede has further underscored the urgent need for safety measures in public spaces. Additionally, concerns over rising communal tensions, growing instances of xenophobia, and looming communal violence have left many questioning the broader direction of governance and social cohesion in the capital. The symbols that construct a nation’s identity—such as the Tiranga (national flag), statues of historical figures like Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj and Lachit Borphukan, the Ram Temple, the symbol of Hanuman on car windows, and caste surnames displayed on buildings—serve as powerful investments in a collective national self-image. These symbols not only reinforce dominant narratives but also marginalize or erase alternative histories. They shape our sensory experiences, imbuing them with emotional and ideological overload, yet often without providing an outlet for social expression or critique limiting the possibility of alternative forms of collective engagement or dissent.

 Frustrations stem from a sense of ‘cruel optimism’ (a term borrowed from Lauren Berlant), where the fantasy of purging India’s landscapes of the Muslim “other” and preserving caste-based biological phenotypes becomes an object of desire. It is no surprise that the public remains disillusioned, as the myth of a “golden era” is deeply tied to the pleasures of nostalgic attachment. This illusion sustains a sense of national unity—until unavoidable realities disrupt it. These disruptions include rising unemployment, restricted sexual freedoms, toxic air, chronic hypertension, and an overwhelming spread of cemented, concrete structures that stifle both space and spirit. Together, they signal a synchronized, collective downfall for a public that, in its fervor, mirrors the cult-like behavior of BJP loyalists. This is a future built on pretense—one that gained favor through empty promises and media manipulation, maintaining a false image much like a political “catfish,” presenting itself as something it never truly was.

Nations shape themselves through bodies, and nationalism exerts its influence over them in deeply personal ways. Political ideologies, particularly those aligned with Hindutva, have increasingly dictated how individuals navigate their identities, often through the policing of personal choices. One striking example is the 2023 incident at Hansraj College in Delhi, where the ban on non-vegetarian food in the hostel mess was framed as a return to cultural purity, reinforcing the growing desire to impose cultural homogeneity. Similarly, political rhetoric continues to stoke historical wounds. When Home Minister Amit Shah claimed that certain individuals in Punjab were trying to emulate Bhindranwale and had been detained in Assam while reading the Sri Guru Granth Sahib, it sparked outrage. The Shiromani Gurdwara Parbandhak Committee (SGPC) condemned his remark as not only politically charged but also deeply disrespectful. They specifically took issue with the perceived sarcasm directed at the recitation of Gurbani, a sacred Sikh practice.

These moments illustrate how encounters with national symbols, practices, and rhetoric trigger visceral emotional responses—happiness and pride for some, alienation and anger for others. A nation that fosters such placelessness within its own ecosystem does not repair itself. Sociologist Elisabeth Katschnig-Fasch’s research indicates that many precarious workers are dissatisfied with their conditions, but are hesitant to acknowledge their unhappiness due to societal taboos. Instead, explosions of authoritarian control, internal violence, fragmented identities, and distorted perceptions manifest within and beyond individuals. The intolerance within in-groups reflects a way of coping with anxiety brought about by the breakdown of boundaries in the age of globalization. This creates a vicious cycle, where increased securitization only exacerbates the real sources of insecurity, such as surveillance and performance looming fascism.

Anamitra Bora is a Guest Lecturer at the Centre for Women’s Studies in Cotton University, Guwahati, Assam doing PhD from the Centre for Women’s Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi