True universalism is found not in the mutual respect of cultural traditions, but in the shared struggle against the antagonisms that divide every society from within.
The Trap of Cultural Tolerance
When Western liberals look at India, they often find themselves paralyzed by a specific brand of post-colonial guilt. If one questions the persistence of the caste system, the immediate retort from certain cultural theorists is to label the critic a neo-colonialist or a Western centrist. They argue that the caste system is simply a 'way of life'—a traditional structure that outsiders have no right to judge. This defense suggests that there is something inherently valuable in preserving a community’s traditional identity, even when that identity is built upon the systemic degradation of millions.
This is the fundamental failure of the standard multiculturalist formula. We are told that we should be one big family, tolerant of each other’s unique customs. But this plea for tolerance is a trap. It assumes that a 'way of life' is a neutral, harmonious thing that everyone within that culture enjoys equally. In reality, there is no such thing as a neutral way of life. What is presented as a sacred cultural identity almost always has an extremely strong class dimension. The 'way of life' being defended is usually the way of life of the oppressors.
The Proletarian Rejection of Identity
The reality on the ground in India reveals a much more fractured picture than the one painted by cultural preservationists. There is a massive, often ignored resistance—exemplified by the Naxalite rebellions—that proves the 'Indian way of life' is a site of active conflict rather than consensus. When I spoke with members of the lowest castes, those tasked with the most demeaning labor, I asked them about their program for the future. Their answer was the perfect definition of a true proletarian stance: their goal was not to 'be themselves' or to celebrate their unique cultural heritage. They totally rejected the romanticized notion that there is something wonderful or spiritual in their poverty.
These individuals do not want to be recognized for their 'difference'; they want to be liberated from the structures that define that difference. This exposes the lie of the multiculturalist ideal. The most marginalized people do not want their 'way of life' respected by the West; they want the antagonisms that define their existence to be resolved. They recognize that their identity is not a treasure to be guarded, but a prison to be escaped.
The Paradox of the English Language
This rejection of local hierarchy leads to fascinating paradoxes that many anti-Eurocentrists find uncomfortable. For instance, there is a strong movement among the lowest social rungs in India in favor of the English language. To a Western academic, English might represent the language of the colonizer. But to an 'untouchable,' local languages are often so deeply penetrated by social hierarchies—dictating different expressions and modes of address based on caste—that they function as tools of constant humiliation.
English, by contrast, offers a certain 'simplistic universality.' Because it is an imported language, it lacks the ancient, baked-in linguistic markers of the caste system. For the oppressed, English becomes the language of equality and openness. It is a tool that allows them to bypass the local structures of domination. This is a vital lesson: sometimes the 'universal' tool of the outsider is more liberating than the 'authentic' tradition of the local.
Imperialism as a Guardian of Tradition
We must also dismantle the myth that colonialism always sought to destroy local traditions. In a cynical sense, British imperialism was the ultimate practitioner of multiculturalism. By the 17th century, the caste system in India was actually beginning to disintegrate. It was the British occupation that gave it a massive boost. The colonial administrators realized that if they tried to impose a modern Western way of life, they would create a revolutionary proletariat and social chaos—the natural byproducts of capitalism.
Instead, the British rediscovered and promoted ancient texts like the Laws of Manu, which provide a granular, almost obsessive description of caste hierarchies and daily material practices. By reinforcing these rigid, patriarchal structures, the British found they could rule more easily. They understood that a population trapped in the 'worst hierarchic patriarchy' is a population that is easier to manage. Authentic imperialism does not always seek to change the other; often, it seeks to keep the other exactly as they are.
A Universalism of Struggle
The conclusion we must draw is that there are no 'authentic' ways of life that are not traversed by radical antagonisms. Whether it is the Indian caste system or the Chinese government’s attempt to impose a 'Confucian' harmony, these cultural labels are almost always cover-ups for a permanent internal civil war. When I visit a foreign country, I never ask what their way of life is. That is a boring, static question. Instead, I ask: 'What are your fights?'
True universalism is not a brotherhood of ways of life where we all politely respect our differences. That is a recipe for stagnation and the preservation of injustice. Real universalism is the recognition that we are all fighting similar battles—for emancipation, for workers' rights, for feminism—within our own specific contexts. We should not aim to bring together different cultures; we should aim to bring together different struggles. Only by identifying the antagonisms we share can we find a solidarity that transcends the superficial boundaries of tradition.