The contemporary world stands at a precarious juncture, with the model of the free economy under severe strain. Within this global context, India too finds itself in an increasingly vulnerable state, one that demands deliberate, strategic choices regarding the drivers of GDP growth over the coming decade. Sectors such as clean energy, large language models, semiconductors, and rare earth mineral exploration are poised to be the primary engines of future global growth. Yet, India remains significantly behind in these domains. Unlike China which, if isolated from the global economy, could still sustain itself through domestically developed technological infrastructures, India continues to be heavily dependent on global partnerships for critical technologies and capabilities.

To survive, let alone thrive, India must revive the bold, long-horizon planning that once defined the Green Revolution and the post-liberalisation era. There is a pressing need to reawaken the spirit of maverick and bold planning that defined earlier epochs of national development. We must urgently establish a concrete, future-proof roadmap that aligns national infrastructure, educational reform, and capital allocation with the contours of a new global order. This roadmap must support every phase of engagement with the new global paradigm, from research and innovation to deployment and export.

But no plan, however ambitious, can succeed atop a fractured foundation. That foundation is secularism, what I call the “myth of secularism.” And to be clear, by “myth” I do not mean fiction, but rather the civilisational narrative that enables cohesion in even the most diverse societies. Imperfect in practice yet indispensable in principle, this myth has been India’s greatest unspoken strategic asset.

Often reduced to a political talking point or derided as an outdated ideal, secularism is in truth India’s most vital strategic asset. It is the condition that allows diversity to thrive, dissent to be heard, and innovation to take root. It is what holds together a plural, complex nation and without it, our aspirations for global relevance are little more than fantasy. It is precisely this pluralistic spirit that allowed India’s over a billion people to collaborate on grand projects, from the Green Revolution that averted famine to the IT boom that transformed Bangalore into a global tech hub.

Secularism fosters the psychological safety innovators need: the assurance that dissenting ideas and unconventional partnerships will not be silenced by sectarian pressure. When I describe it as a “myth,” I intend to highlight its role as a shared narrative that transcends individual failings. Every successful democracy relies on such myths, stories that bind citizens to a higher purpose, even as they acknowledge human imperfection. To abandon secularism is to invite fragmentation, fear, and an erosion of institutional maturity.

It is deeply troubling, then, that informed citizens today celebrate projects such as the Ayodhya temple and the Kumbh Mela considering them equivalent to serious investments in national progress. Another temple, made grander by the politics of religious identities, represents an immense opportunity loss for the establishment of research institutions, innovation hubs, or upskilling the workforce. Meanwhile, linguistic and cultural debates, such as the discourse over Hindi vs Dravidian languages dominate headlines and even precipitate acts of road rage, diverting critical national attention away from questions that should command our collective focus: How can the working class be reskilled in AI and emerging technologies to remain globally competitive?

Rather than focusing on balanced, sustainable state-wise development and integrated economic planning, India continues to witness disproportionate migration toward a handful of urban cities. This unchecked migration is both ecologically unsustainable and culturally disintegrative. At the same time, a distressing number of skilled professionals and entrepreneurs are renouncing their Indian citizenship, seeking better economic opportunities and lower tax burdens abroad. Yet, in national debate, energy is wasted on inflammatory topics such as the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), weaponized not merely to address illegal migration but as a tool for stoking ethnic and religious divisions.

Viewed against this backdrop, the Pahalgam terrorist attack is not merely a tragic act of violence, it is symptomatic of a far deeper systemic failure. It highlights the cracks in India’s national security architecture, yes, but more importantly, it exposes the cumulative collapse of long-term planning and institutional strength. It is an indictment of governance when, in broad daylight, civilians can be executed within a public space with apparent impunity. I refuse to mention the religion of the majority of the victims, simply because a life lost is not defined by race, religion, or caste; it is defined by the extinguishing of a family, an individual potential, and above all, human dignity itself. Anything else is a distraction.

Even more unsettling was the nature of the state’s response, one that predictably escalated into a dramatic display of military retaliation. It is telling that such responses, far from being isolated, are now an alarming pattern. From the surgical strikes post-Uri to the airstrikes following Pulwama, and now, a operation christened to add to the theatrics, which resulted in even more civilian casualties, India’s reaction to terrorism has steadily shifted toward displays of retributive force. While these actions may offer a temporary sense of closure or strength, they also mark a significant departure from India’s historically restrained posture one that once prioritized diplomacy, dialogue, and long-term stabilization over short-term spectacle.

This militarized reflex stands in stark contrast to the approach taken in the aftermath of the 26/11 Mumbai attacks. Then-Prime Minister Dr. Manmohan Singh, faced with a trauma of unimaginable scale, chose not to stoke the flames of retaliation but to reinforce institutional intelligence, initiate multilateral pressure, and uphold India’s credibility on the global stage. His response, deeply rooted in a pragmatic and humanitarian ethos, resisted the temptation of vengeance and emphasized the long-term imperative of national cohesion and international engagement.

That legacy now feels like a relic. We are not just watching institutions crumble; we are watching the erosion of the very secular ethos that once made those institutions possible. And this erosion is not cosmetic, it is existential.

There is a profound fatigue in engaging with the mechanical cycle of blame, whataboutery, and political point-scoring. The far more urgent task is to refocus national attention on the root causes of our fragility and to chart a sustainable, future-oriented course of action. Innovation demands psychological safety, cultural openness, and diversity, elements that rigid identity politics systematically destroy.

Furthermore, it must be recognized that India’s real existential threat today is not external terrorism, but internal decay, through misplaced priorities, the erosion of institutions, the loss of human capital, and the failure to transition to a future-ready economy.

To remain relevant in a fractured world, India must recover what made it whole in the first place. Secularism is not just a constitutional promise, it is our last, best defense against the slow unraveling of our national fabric. Without it, there can be no shared future, only silos of anger, hallucinated memory, and convenient shallow myths. It is time to choose: between symbolism and substance, between fleeting applause and lasting dignity. If India is to rise, it must do so not as a divided house adorned with more temples, but as a unified nation fortified by reason, compassion, and the courage to imagine beyond itself.

The data is clear: countries that maintain social cohesion, institutional trust, and inclusive governance outperform those consumed by internal division, as we can see with many of our own immediate neighbouring nations. India cannot afford to ignore this. Polarization erodes investor confidence, hampers collaboration across sectors, and drains human capital. Secularism is not just a moral stance; it’s a developmental imperative. It ensures that talent, investment, and opportunity are not confined by identity but guided by merit and vision. If India is to meet the demands of the next global era, it must treat secularism not as ideology, but as infrastructure, as critical to national progress as roads, energy, or data networks.

India’s greatest asset is its human capital, engineers, artists, entrepreneurs, and scholars among many other who can solve the world’s hardest problems. But this capital can only be harnessed in an environment of trust, dignity, and opportunity. That environment depends on the secular “myth” we too often dismiss. To abandon it is to forsake the binding agent that holds our plural democracy together.

We can honour our traditions and celebrate our diversity, but we must not allow identity to substitute for policy. In a world where change is the only constant, India cannot afford to move backward or stand still. Let us seize this moment and claim a true second independence: not from foreign rule, but from the stagnation of our own making.