For a large part of my life, my perception of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) was filtered through the prism of prejudice. I say this candidly because I, like many in the Christian community in India, grew up with a narrative that painted the RSS as an organization that was anti-minority, anti-Christian, and diabolical in its ideology. It was the whispered fear passed on in our churches, in community discussions, and in mainstream political narratives that sought to demonize the Sangh.
But as I reflect on the centenary of the RSS – 100 years of existence of an organization that has shaped India’s socio-political landscape in profound ways – I feel it is important to write about my own journey from suspicion to understanding. This is not an attempt to glorify, nor is it a submissive capitulation. It is simply the truth as I have experienced it, and truth is what must prevail above all narratives.
Growing up, Christianity wasn’t just a religion, it was also a cultural identity. The Church was central to our sense of belonging. And within that structure, anything that seemed Hindu nationalist was perceived as a threat. The RSS, therefore, became a bogeyman in our collective imagination, I learned when I moved from Dubai to Mumbai and then Goa.
I often heard whispers that the RSS wanted to destroy minorities, that they wanted to create a “Hindu Rashtra” where Christians and Muslims would be second-class citizens. Some even said they were responsible for violence against Christians across India. The narrative was so pervasive that I never questioned it. It became the accepted truth of our community.
For years, I carried that baggage. As a journalist, as a commentator, as a political observer, my instinctive stance towards the RSS was negative. I saw them as the force behind the politics of polarization, behind the saffron flags that seemed to threaten the cross.
But journalism is about seeking truth, and truth has a way of breaking walls of prejudice. My interactions with individuals from the Sangh – whether pracharaks, swayamsevaks, or leaders who were shaped by the RSS ideology—began to challenge the monolithic image I had of the organization.
What struck me most in my early conversations was that they did not match the caricature we had built in our minds. These were not men and women consumed by hatred. They spoke about discipline, about selfless service, about nation-building, about character.
Yes, they were unapologetically Hindu in their cultural identity, but Hindu for them was not a tool for exclusion – it was a framework of civilization. They saw Hinduism as inclusive, as a way of life that embraced diversity. Their articulation of “Hindutva” was not the diabolical monster we had been taught to fear, but a cultural assertion against centuries of oppression and division.
It was only when I began spending time with the RSS at closer quarters – attending their events, engaging in conversations, and asking uncomfortable questions—that my own prejudice started to dismantle.
One of the first things that struck me was their sense of humility. For an organization that is often portrayed as a secretive, menacing force, the Sangh was remarkably transparent in its ethos. Their daily shakhas were not military camps of indoctrination, as often portrayed, but simple gatherings of discipline, physical training, and discussions on values.
They spoke of service to the motherland – seva – as a foundational principle. During natural disasters, in rural development, in social upliftment, RSS volunteers were often the first to arrive and the last to leave. But this dimension of their work is almost always ignored by the mainstream narrative that prefers to highlight conflict.
The biggest revelation for me was this: they were not anti-Christian. They were not anti-Muslim. Yes, they opposed conversions. Yes, they were critical of what they saw as appeasement politics. But to equate these positions with hatred was disingenuous. What they opposed was not faith—it was exploitation of faith for political or colonial motives.
As the RSS marks 100 years since its founding in 1925 by Dr. Keshav Baliram Hedgewar, I cannot help but admire the resilience of this organization. It began as a cultural movement to revive the spirit of a Hindu society weakened by colonialism and internal divisions. Over the decades, it became a grassroots force that today has millions of members and influence across every sphere of Indian life—from politics to education, from service to culture.
Few organizations in the world have survived a century with such adaptability. The RSS has faced bans, vilification, and constant attacks, yet it has endured. And its endurance is not just organizational – it is ideological. Its core belief that India’s strength lies in her civilizational identity has only grown stronger with time.
Why then does the Christian community, to which I belong, continue to see the RSS with fear?
I believe it is partly historical. The colonial legacy of Christianity in India, especially in places like Goa, has left scars and suspicions. The Church often positions itself in opposition to Hindu nationalism because it fears marginalization. And political forces have capitalized on this fear, amplifying it for their own ends.
But my experience tells me that much of this fear is misplaced. The RSS does not seek to annihilate Christianity. It seeks to ensure that Christianity in India is rooted in loyalty to the nation, not to external powers. It does not want to destroy the Church – it wants to challenge its political entanglements.
This may be uncomfortable, but it is not diabolical.
Today, when I look at the RSS, I no longer see the monster I was taught to fear. I see an organization of flawed human beings, yes – but also of deeply committed patriots. They may disagree with me, and I with them, but disagreement is not enmity.
My faith as a Christian has not weakened because of my interactions with the RSS. If anything, it has strengthened, because I now realize that my Christian identity can coexist with their Hindutva, so long as both are rooted in respect and truth.
The RSS is not perfect. It has its excesses. It has individuals who sometimes cross the line of inclusivity. But show me an organization of this scale that does not. The question is not whether the RSS is flawless, but whether it is fundamentally destructive. My answer, after years of engagement, is no.
On its centenary, the RSS deserves to be judged not by propaganda, but by its reality. Its work in nation-building, in character-building, and in service is undeniable. Its vision of a strong India rooted in civilizational pride is not a threat – it is a necessity in a world where nations without identity crumble.
For me, the journey with the RSS has been a journey of unlearning fear. It has been about discovering that the “other” is not always the enemy. It has been about realizing that India is vast enough to hold both my cross and their saffron flag without either needing to destroy the other.
As a Christian, I can say this with conviction: the RSS is not the devil we were warned about. It is a force of nationalism, of cultural pride, and of service. We may not agree on everything, but in our love for India, we find common ground. And that common ground is sacred.
The RSS at 100 is not just a milestone for the organization – it is a mirror for India. It challenges us to see beyond prejudice, to engage with those we disagree with, and to find strength in diversity.
My journey from suspicion to understanding is just one story. But it is proof that dialogue dismantles walls more effectively than propaganda ever can.
In the end, India does not need fear. It needs truth. And the truth is that the RSS is not diabolical. It is deeply human, deeply Indian, and, after a hundred years, still deeply relevant.
