In what should have been the season of goodwill, India’s Christian minority has found itself navigating intimidation that would have seemed unthinkable even a decade ago. In Chhattisgarh, dozens of activists stormed a mall to destroy a Christmas display. Elsewhere, a visually impaired Christian woman was assaulted at a church charity event while police reportedly stood by. Human rights organisations have documented multiple incidents in which Hindu vigilantes vandalised churches, ransacked Christmas decorations and threatened those celebrating the festival.
Documented incidents of anti-Christian violence in India have risen by more than 500 per cent over the past decade. With more than 700 cases already reported this year, the trajectory remains sharply upwards. This escalation has not occurred in a vacuum. It has been fuelled by sustained propaganda from hardline Hindu organisations that repeatedly portray Christians as agents of foreign influence rather than equal citizens of the republic. What is most corrosive is the atmosphere of impunity surrounding these episodes. Vigilante groups often act openly, emboldened by rhetoric and, at times, tacit support from local politicians affiliated with the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party. In a constitutional democracy that formally enshrines secularism, this erosion of equal protection should provoke serious concern.
India’s constitution promises equal citizenship, yet many Indian Christians marked Christmas behind locked gates, praying that the knock at their church door is a congregant and not a mob. Church leaders have issued desperate appeals to the authorities not for any privilege, but for the bare minimum: the right to worship without fear. That such pleas are necessary in the world’s largest democracy ought to trouble the national conscience.
Across the border, however, a strikingly different Christmas story has unfolded. In Punjab, the state has taken ownership of Christmas as a public, civic event. Under Chief Minister aMaryam Nawaz, the provincial government sponsored its first official Christmas festival, transforming Lahore’s streets with lights, public displays and Christmas trees–scenes the Christian minority could scarcely have imagined in earlier years. Furthermore, more than 30,000 police officers were deployed to secure churches across the province, enabling worshippers to attend services without anxiety. Grants were distributed to Christian families, minority privilege cards were extended to tens of thousands of beneficiaries, and December 26 was declared a designated holiday for the Christian community. Muslim, Sikh and Hindu leaders were invited to participate in Christmas events, signalling an official commitment to interfaith solidarity. The chief minister pointedly contrasted Pakistan’s approach with developments in India, vowing to make Punjab a place where no one will dare harm a minority community.
Pakistan’s record on minority rights is far from unblemished, and no honest appraisal would pretend otherwise. Nevertheless, statecraft is not judged by perfection. It is judged by direction. This Christmas, Punjab’s government chose inclusion as policy rather than rhetoric, making a conscious effort–if belated–to live up to the promise articulated at the country’s founding, when Quaid-e-Azam declared that religion would not determine a citizen’s relationship with the state. *