There is a deep irony in the politics of symbolic outrage practiced by a section of radical identity movements today. They spend enormous intellectual and emotional energy mocking Hindu gods, abusing deities, ridiculing rituals, and desecrating symbols that millions of ordinary people hold sacred, all in the name of “critical thinking,” “anti-caste consciousness,” or “liberation.” Yet the very same people often become intolerant, emotionally volatile, and morally absolutist the moment their own icons, leaders, or ideological figures are questioned. Suddenly the language changes from “freedom of critique” to “respect our sentiments,” from “smash oppressive symbols” to “how dare you insult our emancipatory icons.” This exposes a profound contradiction at the heart of selective radicalism: they do not actually oppose sacredness itself; they merely want to redistribute who gets to possess sacredness.

What emerges, then, is not a politics that transcends hierarchy, but one that simply reverses its direction. The culture of humiliation is not dismantled — it is reassigned. Symbolic aggression becomes morally acceptable so long as the target belongs to a socially dominant tradition. In this framework, insult is renamed resistance, mockery is renamed consciousness, and desecration is renamed progressive politics. But if humiliation is wrong in principle, then it cannot become ethical merely because the identity of the victim changes. Otherwise morality ceases to be universal and becomes purely tribal.

The deeper problem is that many such movements begin to unconsciously imitate the very dogmatism they claim to oppose. They develop their own sacred icons, untouchable narratives, moral policing, emotional censorship, and ritualized outrage. Criticism of their heroes is treated almost like blasphemy. The irony is striking: movements born in opposition to blind reverence often recreate new forms of reverence around political figures and symbolic identities. This is why much of contemporary symbolic politics increasingly resembles secular theology rather than rational critique.

Moreover, this obsession with symbolic antagonism often substitutes for substantive structural transformation. Endless online battles over gods, insults, statues, and emotional provocation create visibility and outrage, but they do not automatically produce better schools, economic mobility, institutional reform, healthcare access, or redistribution of power. Symbolic militancy becomes a performance economy — emotionally satisfying perhaps, but materially stagnant. And in the process, ordinary people who may have no role in historical oppression are collectively reduced into caricatures simply because they emotionally identify with a religious tradition.

A genuinely ethical politics would apply the same moral standards universally. If one demands dignity for one’s own memories, icons, and historical wounds, then one must also recognize the emotional and civilizational attachments of others. Otherwise the discourse of justice degenerates into selective resentment masquerading as moral philosophy.