Here is a question for Mohan Bhagwat and government: if Opposition leaders, student activists and street protesters are part of a overseas-funded plot, why not prove it?
RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat weighs his words carefully. As sarsanghchalak of the Sangh Parivar, a political and ideological force that occupies a dominant position in Indian public life, every utterance carries weight. Which is why his latest warning deserves scrutiny. Delivering his annual Dussehra address in Nagpur, Bhagwat spoke darkly of a ‘western storm’ and a sinister ‘global conspiracy’ to destabilise regimes, suggesting that India, like France, Albania, Bangladesh and Nepal, was a target. But where is the evidence? No names, no documents, no credible trail of foreign funding. Just a sweeping allegation that conveniently offers a political alibi for domestic unrest.
Bhagwat has got this horribly wrong. India is not France, Nepal, Bangladesh or any other country on your list. Every society has its own political dynamics, social tensions and immediate triggers for protest. Images of street demonstrations in one country cannot simply be copy-pasted onto another, least of all a country as vast and diverse as India. To suggest that protests in different countries are evidence of a common foreign conspiracy is to confuse coincidence with causation.
The ‘foreign hand’ trope is hardly new. It is the familiar refuge of governments that find it easier to blame outside forces than confront uncomfortable truths at home. When political dissent becomes difficult to explain, conspiracy becomes a convenient substitute for introspection.
Recall Indira Gandhi’s years in power in the 1970s, when popular agitations and political opposition were often viewed through the prism of foreign interference. The language of a CIA conspiracy became a way of explaining away challenges to her authority. The irony was that the RSS itself was among the forces that her establishment viewed with suspicion. Instead of asking why people were turning against her government, the temptation was to look for enemies abroad.
Switch back to 2026. Only a few months ago, government representatives were engaging with the Cockroach Janta Party over the examination-paper leak issue. Today, the same Gen Z-led protest movement is being viewed through the lens of a supposed foreign conspiracy. What changed? Has evidence of foreign funding emerged, or has the political convenience of the ‘foreign hand’ theory simply become irresistible?
The same suspicion routinely follows Rahul Gandhi. A personal visit abroad can trigger insinuations that he is conspiring against the Indian state somewhere in the shadows. The insinuation does the work of an accusation without having to meet the burden of proof. Opposition politics becomes suspect by default, and anyone challenging the establishment can be portrayed as an agent of forces beyond India’s borders.
Here is a straightforward question for Bhagwat and the government: if Opposition leaders, student activists and street protesters are part of a foreign-funded conspiracy, why not prove it? India has powerful investigative and intelligence agencies. If there is credible evidence of illegal foreign financing or a coordinated attempt to destabilise the country, the agencies should investigate, establish the facts and act in accordance with the law. Where is the publicly verifiable evidence?
A government that commands enormous institutional power cannot expect the public to accept grave allegations on the strength of insinuation and social media campaigns alone. The burden of proof lies with those making the charge, not with students or political opponents who are asked to prove their innocence.
None of this is to suggest that foreign interference does not exist. Countries, including India, face genuine external pressures, and unlawful foreign financing of political activity must be investigated.
But there is a world of difference between identifying a demonstrable foreign operation and invoking an amorphous global conspiracy whenever citizens take to the streets. One is evidence-based investigation; the other is political rhetoric.
The deeper problem with Bhagwat’s argument is that it ignores the domestic triggers of dissent. The CJP did not emerge in a political vacuum. Its rise followed public anger over examination-paper leaks and was amplified by a controversial remark in court about ‘unemployed’ cockroaches. Rahul Gandhi’s ‘vote chori’ campaign, whatever one thinks of its political merits, drew ammunition from questions raised about the Election Commission’s processes, including a detailed investigative report in The Indian Express. These are identifiable domestic developments that deserve scrutiny and debate. Dismissing the resulting protests as part of a foreign plot evades the questions that gave rise to them in the first place.
People do not need foreign sponsors to be angry about unemployment, examination irregularities, corruption or the perceived erosion of institutional independence. Young people do not need instructions from abroad to worry about their future. Nor does political discontent become illegitimate merely because it finds expression on the streets.
The more serious danger is that the foreign-hand narrative can be used to delegitimise peaceful dissent and justify a crackdown. A democracy must distinguish between unlawful activity and legitimate protest. If there is evidence of a crime, prosecute it. If there is evidence of foreign funding in violation of the law, expose it. But do not treat dissent itself as evidence of conspiracy.
And while we are discussing foreign funding, perhaps Bhagwat would also welcome greater transparency about the RSS’ own sources of funding, the resources that sustain its vast organisational network and the Sangh Parivar’s international reach. The question is not whether the RSS is entitled to have a global presence or raise legitimate funds. It is whether the same standards of transparency and scrutiny that are demanded of others should apply to everyone.
One final historical reminder. In 1973–74, Narendra Modi, then a young activist, had his first major encounter with street politics during Gujarat’s Nav Nirman movement, which challenged corruption and eventually contributed to the fall of the Congress government. Would the young Modi have dismissed those protesters as foreign-funded agents? Would their grievances have become less legitimate if some external actor had supported their cause?
The point is simple. Governments change, political loyalties shift, but the right to protest cannot depend on whether the protesters happen to support those in power. So India’s democracy is not threatened simply because its young take to the streets. The greater danger is when those in authority stop listening to them. Before searching for a foreign hand, perhaps it is time to look closer to home.
(Rajdeep Sardesai is a senior journalist and author.)
