Politics

There is a kind of social engineering so elegant that it requires almost no maintenance once set in motion. No ongoing conspiracy, no shadowy coordination, no continuous effort from whoever designed it. It just runs. The genius of it is that the very people it is used against become its most reliable operators. Understanding how this works requires setting aside the usual framework of oppressor-and-oppressed narratives, and instead looking at the mechanism underneath them — the actual lever being pulled and why it never stops moving.

There’s a predictable pattern in how social and cultural movements evolve. They begin with conversation—small groups gathering to discuss ideas, share grievances, and articulate visions. This phase is necessary. It’s where consciousness forms, where people realize they’re not alone in their concerns. But here’s the problem: most movements get stuck here. They mistake the beginning for the destination. The discourse phase feels productive. There’s energy in the room when four or five people sit together and talk through complex issues.

There’s a persistent narrative in certain political circles that goes something like this: identity politics is a distraction, a tool of division that keeps the masses from recognizing their shared class interests. If only people would stop fighting over race, gender, religion, and other identity markers, they’d see that the real enemy is economic inequality, and unite as the 99% against the 1%. This narrative is seductive in its simplicity.

There’s a persistent puzzle in modern politics that bothers many observers: why do some identity groups seem to have such remarkable cohesion and political effectiveness, while others remain perpetually fragmented? Why do Muslims demonstrate such strong organizational unity across the world? Why have Dalit movements achieved such political potency in India? Why do women’s movements maintain consistent solidarity across different contexts? And conversely, why do Hindus struggle to organize collectively?

When India’s Army Chief recently handed over twenty SUVs to the Sri Lankan military—a gesture saving them millions in rental costs—it prompted a question that echoes across decades of Indian foreign policy: why do we keep doing this? Why does India continue extending goodwill to neighbors with dubious track records of loyalty, repeating patterns that yield little strategic return? The answer, it turns out, isn’t about generosity or naivety.

TLDR - Summary: Society could improve by encouraging honest self-interest rather than unrealistic ideals of universal morality. Many genuinely follow altruistic values, often at their own expense, while others openly prioritize their interests—leading to frustration and betrayal. When everyone is upfront about their goals, interactions could become more transparent and mutually beneficial. Cohesive minority groups already thrive by openly advocating for their own interests, while the fragmented majority often falls short due to misplaced guilt-driven values.