Manindra Nath Thakur is a political theorist and Associate Professor, Centre for the Study of Political Science at Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU). In this interview with Paresh Malakar, Thakur reflects on the continuing relevance of Mahatma Gandhi in contemporary India and the world. Ranging from dialogue, ethics, and non-violence to economy, religion, caste, and ecology, he situates Gandhi alongside Marx and Ambedkar to argue for a transformative politics rooted in ethical agency, social justice, and civilisational traditions of dialogue.
Paresh Malakar: What is the legacy of Gandhi for us today, both in India and globally?
Manindra Nath Thakur: My serious engagement with Gandhi began only after I was deeply exposed to Marxism. As a student at Delhi University, Professor Randhir Singh once remarked that Gandhi was neither a liberal nor a Marxist—and that is precisely why he remains relevant. Gandhi transcends rigid ideological boundaries.
At a time of extreme polarisation—of ideas, identities, and communities—this transcendence becomes crucial. Gandhi believed fundamentally in dialogue. His commitment to dialogue is civilisational, rooted in Indian philosophical traditions such as Jain anek?ntav?da and the Ny?ya school.
Gandhi’s message is that no crisis is beyond dialogue. Human beings can reach conclusions only through conversation, not violence. This requires commitment to one’s own truth (satya), while remaining open to better truths. The other is not an enemy, but a vantage point from which we examine ourselves.
In a world capable of annihilating itself several times over, Gandhi’s insistence on ethics in politics and conflict resolution through dialogue is a message that will remain relevant for centuries.
Today everyone speaks of dialogue, yet trust seems to have collapsed. How do you see this contradiction?
This is the biggest crisis of our time—a massive trust deficit. We no longer trust our enemies, our friends, our families, or even ourselves. While dialogue is often invoked, the conditions necessary for dialogue are rarely created.
I do not believe the state or ruling elites will create such conditions, because division serves their interests. A divided society is easier to govern. The responsibility therefore lies with people themselves.
Historically, Asian societies created multiple spaces for dialogue. In Assam, the Namghar is not merely a religious space but a forum for ethical and social discussion. In Bhopal, the Patiya tradition allowed people to gather and debate. In Bihar and Assam, elevated machans functioned as informal public spheres where conflicts were resolved through conversation.
Gandhi understood this deeply. Dialogue, for him, was not utopian—it was a lived social practice.
Can you give examples from Gandhi’s life where he engaged hostile opponents through dialogue?
One striking example comes from 1946–47, when a crowd at a prayer meeting demanded the arrest of Muhammad Ali Jinnah. Gandhi calmed the crowd and said, “Yes, Jinnah should be arrested. But I don’t have the police—Nehru does. So I will arrest Jinnah in my heart.” The crowd fell silent.
Another powerful example is Noakhali. Amid intense communal violence, Gandhi walked barefoot through hostile villages, facing direct threats to his life. Broken glass was strewn on his path, yet he called this journey his yajna.
From Manu Gandhi’s diaries, we learn that Gandhi believed humanity could be saved only if human beings learned to think and feel like mothers. He refused state protection, lived among victims, and spoke directly to Hindu and Muslim families alike. He was not theorising from a distance; he was practising ethics in the midst of violence.
How do you see Gandhi’s relationship with nature, especially in comparison with Buddha?
Buddha, Gandhi, Mahavira, and Jesus were not anthropocentric thinkers. They did not believe humans had the right to exploit nature. Capitalism has turned the human–nature relationship antagonistic.
These thinkers argued for democratising the relationship between humans and nature. Gandhi’s statement—“Nature has enough for need, but not for greed”—directly challenges capitalism, which treats greed as a virtue.
Ideas of sustainability, minimalism, and ecological balance that dominate contemporary discourse were integral to Gandhian thought long before ecological crises made them unavoidable.
Some argue that Gandhi had little to contribute to economic thought. How do you respond?
I completely disagree. Gandhi was a system-builder, like Kautilya or Marx. He thought in totality—about economics, education, health, women, food, and labour.
The ideas of decentralised production, village industries, and small-scale economies are not romantic notions; they constitute a serious alternative economic vision grounded in sustainability.
If sustainability is the criterion, Gandhian economics remains one of the most viable models. Those who deny Gandhi’s economic thought simply do not read him in totality.
Gandhi is often criticised for mixing religion with politics. Some even blame him for communalism or Partition. How do you respond?
This is a deeply flawed argument. Gandhi was killed because of his commitment to communal harmony. He did not treat religion as an identity weapon but as a knowledge system and an ethical resource.
The Indian national movement sought to reclaim religion from ritualism and power, transforming it into a liberating and dialogical force. Gandhi criticised caste oppression and religious orthodoxy from within.
Modern states instrumentalise religion for power. Gandhi wanted to free religion from power and restore its ethical core.
How do you assess Gandhi’s position on caste, especially in relation to Ambedkar?
Gandhi’s understanding of caste evolved over time. He did not have the lived experience of caste oppression that Ambedkar had, and he acknowledged this.
Ambedkar believed the modern state and law could abolish caste. Gandhi believed social transformation required changing consciousness, not just laws. Interestingly, Ambedkar’s later turn to Buddhism reflects a convergence with Gandhi’s emphasis on ethical transformation.
They disagreed sharply, but they respected each other deeply. These were clashes of vision, not personality.
You began your intellectual journey with Marx and later turned to Gandhi. How do you reconcile Marx, Gandhi, and Ambedkar?
Any transformative politics today must read three traditions together: Marx for understanding capitalism, Gandhi for ethical agency and dialogue, and Ambedkar for understanding caste, dignity, and humiliation.
None of them is sufficient alone. The real challenge for contemporary thinkers is to create a dialogue between these three traditions of liberation and develop a new political imagination for our time.