Some debates are unsettling not because they are unimportant but because they demand the courage to confront uncomfortable truths. In India, we speak often about terrorism, occasionally about radicalism, but rarely do we examine where both begin. The origin is not the training camp – it is, in some cases, the classroom. Some madrassas, far from their intended role of imparting religious wisdom and moral grounding, have become silent nurseries of ideological conditioning, planting seeds of hatred and resentment in young minds long before they develop the capacity for rational thought.
Let me be very clear: this is not a blanket indictment of madrassas or of the Muslim community. Many madrassas across India are centres of spiritual discipline and genuine religious scholarship, producing scholars, leaders, and community-minded individuals who advocate peace. However, to ignore that some madrassas have deviated from this path, functioning instead as ideological factories, would be an act of intellectual dishonesty and national irresponsibility.
A child is born without hate. Hatred is not natural; it is nurtured. It is taught, repeated, reinforced. In radicalised madrassas, students are made to memorise texts without understanding, conditioned to believe that the world is divided between the faithful and the infidel, and systematically trained to perceive difference as danger. They are not educated to ask questions but to defend answers.
The tragedy here is not that a child is taught religion – religion in its purest essence teaches compassion, humility, and justice. The tragedy is when religion is manipulated to suppress questioning, glorify aggression, and justify hostility. Radicalism is not born from faith; it is manufactured through interpretation.
The process is subtle. A child is not told to pick up arms. Instead, he is told repeatedly that others are enemies, that oppression is his inheritance, and that defending faith is his divine mandate. Once empathy is destroyed, extremism becomes a possibility. You do not need to teach a person to kill; you only need to teach him that the death of another is an acceptable outcome. That is how indoctrination works. Violence is not the beginning – it is the conclusion.
Every terrorist we condemn today was once a student somewhere. Every extremist narrative began as a lesson plan in a classroom where dialogue was replaced with dogma. The terrorist does not emerge from the shadows; he emerges from a syllabus. When society debates border security, it must also secure borders of the mind. A nation is not strengthened by weapons alone but by fortified values. The absence of empathy in education is a greater threat than any explosive.
Many argue that regulating madrassas is interference in religious freedom. I say religious freedom is a constitutional right, but freedom to promote hate is not. India is secular by governance, inclusive by culture, and tolerant by civilisation, but it cannot afford to be naive. True religious institutions should welcome transparency and accountability. Those resisting regulation must ask themselves a question: what do they fear being exposed?
The responsibility does not rest only with the government – it starts with parents. They send their children to madrassas hoping for moral grooming but must also ask: does this institution prepare my child to live better with others, or does it prepare him to oppose them? Education must be measured not by the number of verses memorised but by the depth of humanity instilled.
The difference between religious education and radical indoctrination is simple – one teaches how to live, the other teaches who to fight. Real religious teaching promotes prayer, humility, and community. Radicalism promotes prejudice, aggression, and conflict. Religion elevates; indoctrination poisons.
Policies must reflect this distinction. We must institute academic reforms that introduce critical thinking, combine religious teachings with modern education, and train teachers not just in theology but in psychology and pedagogy. Regular audits, curriculum checks, child protection norms, and psychological impact evaluations must be mandatory. Moderate religious scholars must be empowered to challenge extremist voices from within the community. Silence of the reasonable is the victory of the radical.
Rehabilitation of children exposed to toxic ideology must be integrated within educational planning – early intervention is key. When a generation is educated in resentment, a society is educated in fear. Those misusing madrassas are not only harming national security; they are betraying their own community. Radicalism damages Islam more deeply than it affects anyone else. Extremists do not protect faith; they distort it. They do not strengthen identity; they weaken humanity.
Wars were once fought over land. Today, they are fought over ideas. The greatest battlefield of the 21st century is not the border – it is the brain. Nations that invest in cognitive defence are the ones that will survive. I have always believed that the strength of a nation lies not in its military but in the principles it transfers to its children. Today, as I write this, I am compelled to refine that thought – a nation does not fall when borders are breached; it falls when classrooms are surrendered to extremism.
This is not about targeting a religion; it is about protecting the next generation. It is not about suppressing faith; it is about freeing faith from the hijack of fanaticism. We need classrooms that teach religion, not radicalism. Values, not vengeance. Faith, not fanaticism. Because the moment education begins to decide who must be fought instead of how life must be lived, the war is already lost.
The question is simple: what do we want our children to become – warriors against others or ambassadors of coexistence? The answer to that will shape the future of this nation.
In the end, every madrassa, every school, every educational institution must reflect this singular principle – the highest form of education is not to build the strongest voice of faith, but the strongest heart of humanity. Only then can we say we are truly educating. Only then can we truly claim to be building the India of tomorrow.
