OPINION

Solidarity Cannot Be a One‑Way Street: Muslim Participation and the Politics of Indian Protests

As a fresh protest gathers at Delhi’s Jantar Mantar, the recurring question “Where are the Muslims?” resurfaces, exposing a deeper demand for reciprocal solidarity. The piece examines past CAA‑NRC mobilisations, the lived costs for Muslim activists, and why genuine unity must extend beyond moments of convenience.

By Hameedullah Shaik · 2026-08-04

TL;DR

True solidarity demands that Indian society stand with Muslims during their toughest moments, not just when protests are convenient.

Key points

The “Where are the Muslims?” question resurfaces at each major protest, reflecting expectations of constant Muslim participation.
Muslim communities faced disproportionate police action, arrests, and stigma during the CAA‑NRC protests.
Muslims have contributed to other movements—farmers’ protests, relief work, legal aid—often behind the scenes.
Risk of participation is perceived as higher for Muslims due to legal, social, and economic repercussions.
Reciprocal solidarity, not transactional support, is essential for a healthy democratic movement.

The latest gathering at Delhi’s historic Jantar Mantar has reignited a familiar refrain on social media and in political circles: “Where are the Muslims?” The question, asked whenever a public movement erupts, carries an implicit expectation that the Muslim community must constantly demonstrate its allegiance to democratic causes, even as its own struggles are frequently sidelined.For many Indian Muslims, this line of criticism is neither novel nor unexpected. During the nationwide protests against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) and the proposed National Register of Citizens (NRC), activists repeatedly warned that the issues transcended any single community and threatened the nation’s constitutional fabric. Yet, according to Muslim students, activists, and families who faced police action, arrests, and public hostility at the time, the broader call for participation seemed to overlook the disproportionate price they paid.The memory of those earlier crackdowns shapes the response to fresh appeals for solidarity. It is not merely a question of political preference; it is rooted in lived experience. Communities that feel they have borne a heavier burden for dissent naturally ask whether others will stand beside them when the stakes become severe.The debate also surfaces the problem of selective activism. Public figures who once endorsed government policies but later turned vocal critics are often celebrated as symbols of resistance. While many of these transformations may be sincere, for those who endured earlier repression, such recognition can appear to erase the voices that warned of danger long before the backlash.Critics of the “Where are the Muslims?” narrative argue that it overlooks the ongoing contributions Muslims make to civil‑society movements. They point to Muslim involvement in the farmers’ protests, disaster‑relief initiatives, legal‑aid clinics, and on‑the‑ground support at demonstrations—providing food, logistics, and volunteers. Their contention is that solidarity cannot be measured solely by visible attendance at protest sites.Equally important is the unequal risk associated with public participation. Muslim activists contend that arrests, prolonged legal battles, social stigma, and economic fallout weigh more heavily on their community. Whether one agrees with every nuance of this argument, the perception of uneven consequences inevitably influences decisions about joining protests.The larger issue extends beyond any single demonstration. A democratic movement thrives when solidarity is reciprocal rather than transactional. Communities are more inclined to unite when they trust that their concerns will receive equal empathy, regardless of who is affected or when the injustice occurs.If every new protest begins by asking why Muslims are absent, perhaps the more difficult question is whether Indian society has consistently stood with Muslims during moments of their greatest vulnerability. Until that question is addressed with honesty, calls for unity may continue to ring hollow for many.Solidarity, after all, derives its strength not from demands made in moments of convenience, but from support extended in moments of shared risk.