Ethnographic Dilemmas of Fieldwork in Hindutva India: Navigating Alienation, Exclusion, and Ideological Tensions

[Request to keep the author’s name anonymous in the program book.]

When I arrived in Visakhapatnam, a coastal city in southern India where the New Age spiritual organization I research is headquartered, for pre-field research in the summer of 2022, I was struck by the eclectic nature of the organization’s practices. At a time when much of Indian society was leaning toward a rigid, homogenized understanding of religious identity, the organization appeared to resist this trend through its “New Age” orientation. I observed practitioners engaging in a broad spectrum of rituals that blended traditional Hindu practices with unconventional spiritual figures and cosmologies. Altars in Visakhapatnam, for instance, included not only traditional Hindu deities, but also figures like Lord Maitreya, Master Djwhal Khul, Jesus Christ, and Helena P. Blavatsky. In addition to Sanskrit and Telugu prayers, I also heard regular chants in English. Moreover, the organization’s spiritual framework clearly extended beyond Hindu cosmology to include references to Atlantis, Lemuria, and the “etheric realms” of World Masters. This pluralistic orientation appeared to signal a resistance to the majoritarian Hindu nationalist discourse that increasingly defines Indian religiosity in rigid and exclusionary terms.

This initial impression led me to believe that the organization was promoting a hybrid and expansive form of spirituality that could offer an alternative to the rigid, mainstream political construction of Hindu identity, which is often defined by a strict adherence to traditional texts, deities, rituals, and caste norms. The group's practices, including a combination of Vedic and Western astrology and their invocation of global sacred geographies like Mount Shasta and Iguazu Falls, seemed to expand the boundaries of Hindu selfhood and community. These transnational spiritual linkages suggested an openness to diversity and an implicit critique of the nationalist impulse to define Hinduism within the narrow constraints of political Hindutva. Encouraged by these observations, I proposed to do fieldwork with the W.T.T., and they responded with enthusiasm and support, and many of them became my genuine friends.

However, when I began my full-time fieldwork in 2023, I started noticing a more troubling undercurrent. Despite their outward eclecticism, many of the organization's practices and ideologies were, in fact, aligned with right-wing, Hindutva orientations. New Age and esoteric language, which initially seemed to offer an inclusive and expansive spiritual framework, often obscured deeper connections to right-wing political commitments. For example, the organization’s leadership frequently invoked concepts of “ancient wisdom” “sanatana dharma” and “spiritual purity” in ways that mirrored the exclusionary rhetoric of Hindu nationalism. The glorification of a Vedic past was often accompanied by subtle but significant Islamophobic undertones, such as the erasure of Muslim contributions to Indian/global spirituality and references to the “invasions” which destroyed the Vedic utopia. Caste, too, was a point of contention—while some members of the group claimed to transcend caste divisions through spiritual unity, I encountered repeated denials of caste-based discrimination. Similarly, while gender equality was ostensibly promoted, women were often relegated to secondary roles within spiritual hierarchies, and critiques of patriarchal norms were outright dismissed.

As I began to question or resist these right-wing political commitments with folks I genuinely believed to be my friends—whether by addressing Islamophobic comments, gently pointing out the implicit casteism in certain narratives, or raising polite concerns about gendered power dynamics—I found myself increasingly alienated. The initial warmth and openness with which I had been welcomed began to dissipate. Interlocutors who had once been eager to share their insights with me now seemed hesitant or evasive. Some subtly discouraged my questions, while others became visibly uncomfortable in my presence. Over time, I began to feel like a burden to the group, an outsider whose inquiries disrupted their spiritual and ideological cohesion. This experience of exclusion was not only painful, but profoundly shaped my approach to ethnographic research, forcing me to grapple with methodological and ethical dilemmas that have been widely discussed in the anthropology of right-wing and exclusionary movements.

As scholars like Sarah Riccardi-Swartz, Benjamin Teitelbaum, and Katherine Blee have noted, studying such groups presents unique ethical and methodological challenges. Traditional ethnographic fieldwork—built on trust, reciprocity, and long-term engagement—can be difficult or even impossible to conduct when working with ideologically distant or exclusionary populations. Riccardi-Swartz (2020) describes the "painfully difficult social situations" researchers face when working with groups whose views are at odds with their own, highlighting the exclusion that often occurs in these settings. Teitelbaum (2019) further argues that conventional anthropological virtues like collaboration and advocacy lose relevance when studying oppressive or privileged groups, while Blee (2007) emphasizes the tension between ethical fairness and the political imperative to expose and critique harmful movements.

In this paper, I engage with these perspectives while offering my own reflections on how these challenges manifest in the Indian context. Through a series of ethnographic anecdotes, I illustrate how my complex positionality and evolving understanding of the organization shaped my methodological approach. One key methodological shift involved rethinking rapport-building—not as a means to gain access, but as an approach that required me to balance engagement with critical distance. Additionally, I reconsidered the role of self-disclosure in the field, particularly when confronted with ideological hostility; for instance, by hiding the fact that my fiancé’s heritage is from a Muslim-majority country. Unlike traditional ethnographic encounters, where transparency and establishing mutual understanding is often the goal, my experience underscored the need for strategic opacity and selective engagement.

Ultimately, this paper contributes to the broader anthropological conversation on studying right-wing and exclusionary movements by bringing an Indian case study into dialogue with existing scholarship. By reflecting on my own fieldwork challenges, I offer insights into the ethical and methodological negotiations required to study groups whose ideological commitments may be at odds with the researcher’s own. My work also underscores the need for an anthropology that remains attuned to the political stakes of ethnographic research, particularly in contexts where spiritual discourse is increasingly mobilized in service of nationalist projects. Through this engagement, I hope to refine methodological approaches for studying the intersections of religion, politics, and exclusion in contemporary India.