Dawkins and Bapat: When noise becomes political agenda!

Raju Korti
Richard Dawkins is hardly a name that needs an introduction. The celebrated evolutionary biologist and author of The God Delusion is among the world's most prominent atheists and one of the most forthright critics of religious belief.

Yet there is an interesting irony in repeatedly invoking Dawkins in the context of the Vidyanand Bapat controversy. Dawkins may reject God and religious belief, but he has not, for all his atheism, made a crusade out of telling people that festivals should not be celebrated.

Indeed, Dawkins's position is considerably more rational than the simplistic proposition that atheism necessarily means hostility to religion, culture or celebration. He can question faith while recognising the social and cultural dimensions of religious traditions. His atheism is an intellectual position. It does not automatically become a political programme against festivals.

That distinction is important when examining Bapat's campaign. As long as Bapat was protesting against excessive noise, particularly the deafening use of DJs during Ganeshotsav, he had a perfectly legitimate point. Noise pollution is a serious civic concern. Nobody's religious freedom includes an unrestricted licence to assault the neighbourhood's eardrums.

His campaign initially resonated precisely because it addressed a real and widely experienced problem. His invocation of constitutional principles, Sanskrit texts and social reform gave the campaign an intellectual character. There was little reason to object.

But somewhere along the way, the argument appears to have changed. The moment Bapat began talking about stopping festivals, questioning the need for religious celebrations and making broader pronouncements about what society should or should not celebrate, he moved well beyond the noise-pollution brief.

That is where the character of the campaign begins to look different. There is a world of difference between saying, "Keep the noise within permissible limits," and suggesting that the festival itself should not be allowed to take place. The former is a civic demand. The latter is a cultural and political proposition.

It is difficult to understand why the two should be bundled together unless there is an agenda larger than noise control. And this is precisely why Bapat is now attracting scrutiny. It is not because he is an atheist. It is not because he may hold left-wing views. It is not even because he may harbour political ambitions. None of these is a crime. In a democracy, atheism is legitimate, ideology is legitimate and political ambition is legitimate.

What is questionable is the apparent transformation of a civic campaign into a political platform. Bapat's increasingly grandstanding language only reinforces that impression. A campaign that began with decibel levels now appears to be making pronouncements on festivals, faith and society. At that point, the public is entitled to ask a rather simple question: is noise pollution still the destination, or was it merely the vehicle?

There is nothing wrong with entering politics openly. In fact, a declared political ambition is far more respectable than a political agenda concealed behind the halo of social activism. The irony is that Bapat's argument becomes weaker, not stronger, when he seeks intellectual legitimacy through Dawkins. The atheist scientist can reject God without demanding that society abandon its festivals. Bapat, who began by objecting to excessive sound, appears increasingly willing to question the festivals themselves.

That is not a distinction about atheism. It is a distinction about political intent. Nor should the public be expected to suspend its judgement simply because a campaign begins with an apparently noble cause. Social media has perfected the manufacture of instant heroes. A forceful statement, a viral video and a righteous cause can turn an activist into a celebrity overnight.

But celebrity is not credibility, and activism is not immunity from scrutiny. The test is remarkably simple. If the cause remains firmly about reasonable, uniform and enforceable noise standards across all festivals, religions and public events, it deserves support. If it progressively expands into questioning particular festivals or the right of people to celebrate them, then it has entered an altogether different territory.

Bapat may have every right to travel into that territory. But he cannot reasonably object when people notice that he has done so. The curious part of this episode is therefore not that an atheist like Dawkins questions religion. That is entirely predictable. The curious part is that someone who began by asking people to lower the volume now appears to be raising the volume of politics.

And once politics enters the conversation, the public is perfectly entitled to turn up the volume of its questions.