Who Are You Against? — Identity in the Age of False Choices: Narratives, Allegiances, and the Death of Nuance
Some weeks ago, I came across an essay exploring identity formation in the context of political conflict. One phrase struck me deeply: “To be on the right, you must oppose everything on the left. And the definition of left is a telescopic view.” A terrifyingly simple formula — and yet disturbingly accurate in today’s climate. Ideological identity is no longer formed through introspection, ethics, or a sense of shared community, but by opposition. You are not for something, you are simply against something else — and that becomes your identity.
This phenomenon is not new. It dates back to how we remember history, how narratives are carved to serve factions. Take the 1857 revolt in India. Was it a mutiny, as the British claimed — a chaotic insurrection by undisciplined sepoys? Was it, as Marx and later Indian Marxists said, a class-based uprising against imperial capitalism? Or was it, as Savarkar called it, the “First War of Independence”? Or even more controversially, was it an early attempt by Islamic forces to re-establish a Mughal theocracy under Bahadur Shah Zafar, thus making it a jihad, as some right-wing scholars assert?
The answer depends not on evidence but on ideology. Each narrative belongs to a tribe — colonialists, secularists, nationalists, religious revivalists. Historical memory becomes a tool in the culture war, not a means of understanding.
The Identity Machine: How Labels Stick - In our time and the country India I live in, the ideological spectrum has become a prison. Speak up for Hindu victims of communal violence, and you’re branded a saffron nationalist. Criticize Islamic radicalism, and you’re suddenly part of the “Islamophobic far-right.” It has now become a common assumption that being a nationalist automatically means being critical of Muslims — and conversely, defending Muslims aligns you with the Left. The ideological landscape has fractured into rigid camps, where schools of thought are locked in constant opposition. In some circles, even terrorism is reframed as a cry for justice and peace, rather than an act of violence.
In such a polarized environment, identity is no longer rooted in beliefs or values, but in opposition. Who you are is defined not by what you stand for, but by what (or whom) you stand against. Neutrality is no longer an option — you’re either Left or Right, pro-Israel or pro-Palestine, pro-trans or pro-women, pro-life or pro-gun, pro-mutiny or pro-jihad, pro-Hindu or pro-Muslim. And once you take a side on one issue, your position on others is expected to fall in line. For example, supporting abortion rights is presumed to mean supporting trans rights, which then aligns with support for Palestine — even though many who advocate for Palestine may not support women’s rights, LGBTQ+ rights, or abortion.
In this rigid ideological grid, criticizing Palestine or Islam — regardless of your reasoning — is enough to label you as anti-Left or even far-Right. The space for critical thinking, nuance, or independent positions is disappearing fast. The moral incoherence is staggering. You can’t be a “true leftist” and question the misogyny in Palestine or the draconian Sharia laws in Islamic states. You can’t raise the oppression of Hindu minorities in Pakistan or Bangladesh without being accused of whataboutery. Even the valid, fact-based defense of Kashmiri Pandits, or Hindu temple desecration in India, is met with silence from the global Left — as if Hindus are incapable of victimhood.
This ideological rigidity makes it impossible to occupy a moral middle ground. You must choose. Either you’re with Palestine and trans rights and abortion and critical race theory — or you’re with Modi and Hindu nationalism and Zionism and the “fascist right.”
The tragedy? These alliances are entirely synthetic.
I'm from India, so I align the context in a tone to highlight what I read daily. The plight of Hindus in Bangladesh and Pakistan underscores the urgent need for international attention and intervention. Addressing these issues requires a commitment to human rights, religious freedom, and the protection of minority communities. Without concerted efforts, the rich cultural tapestry of these nations risks being irreparably damaged.
While every micro-aggression against a hijab-wearer in a Paris suburb warrants a full-blown panel discussion with dramatic violin background music, the systematic cleansing, rape, forced conversion, and temple desecration of Hindus in Pakistan and Bangladesh barely make it past the trash folder. Why? Well, because Hindu suffering is just not sexy enough for primetime. Meanwhile, CNN has live reporters counting dust particles in Gaza, and Al Jazeera releases documentaries faster than Netflix on the “Palestinian resistance.” But when it comes to Hindus being hacked to death in Bangladesh, silence. Not even a whisper. It’s as if the human rights radar has a “filter by religion” button — and guess who’s been quietly shadowbanned? According to UN Population Index, the Hindu population in Pakistan dropped from 14% in 1941 to around 2% now. In Bangladesh, from 28% to under 8%. But who cares, right? That kind of ethnic and religious cleansing doesn’t trend on Twitter — sorry, X — unless it involves Western troops, oil pipelines, or a viral protest dance.
And Gulf media? If a cow sneezes in India, they’ll call it “Hindutva extremism.” But when Hindu girls are abducted, converted, and married off in Pakistan, it’s just another day at the “peaceful neighborhood.”
Let’s be honest: if Hindus had their own OPEC, maybe they’d get a little sympathy headline. Or if they declared a jihad, built a few rockets, or threw stones at a border, perhaps then BBC would swoop in to “contextualize the struggle.” Until then? Hindus are the wrong kind of minority: unarmed, unorganized, and unfortunately too polite.
Human rights? Only if they rhyme with oil rights. Freedom of religion? Only if the religion is not pluralistic, ancient, or… well, Hindu.
We live in a world where nuance has died. Identity is now a total package deal. You don’t just pick a side — you inherit an entire ideological wardrobe. Pro-trans? Then pro-Islam. Anti-Israel? Then pro-abortion. Support Ram Mandir? You must be anti-Muslim. It’s a politically engineered domino effect — designed not to reflect reality, but to signal allegiance.
This dogmatism creates an echo chamber where dissent is punished. If you dare criticise Hamas — you’re a Zionist. If you question gender ideology — you’re a fascist. If you defend Hindus from bigotry — you’re a “Sanghi.” The fence is on fire; neutrality is treason.
The Right to Dissent, The Right to Complexity — What we need today is not more ideological warfare but the courage to be complex. To say: “I support Muslim rights but will criticize Islamic radicalism.” Or: “I support women’s rights but question abortion after viability.” Or: “I support Hindus who’ve suffered communal violence but oppose religious supremacy.” This should not be brave — it should be normal.
But in a world where identities are pre-packaged and dissent is punished, perhaps the greatest rebellion left is to think freely.
In an age where allegiance is mistaken for morality and dissent is branded as betrayal, the courage to think freely — to hold conflicting truths, to criticize without hate, to empathize without surrender — has become a revolutionary act. Real justice begins where narratives end, and truth is rarely found in the noise of tribal loyalties. The world doesn’t need more partisans; it needs more honest minds willing to speak not for a side, but from a place of clarity. Because in the end, to stand for nuance is not to sit on the fence — it is to refuse the fences altogether.