Enclosed in their small world of opinions and arguments, many people believe — and sometimes try to argue — that Trump and Modi are of the same breed. They are same as chalk and cheese. No doubt, both have faced stiff resistance in the run-up to the elections. Once they had come to hold the top chair, this bitterness grew to a crescendo. Remember the time when women like Nayantara Sehgal had led an intellectual crusade against Modi. Many litterateurs also returned awards against the communal posturing of Modi. In a similar manner, Trump is also rising against a wave of protests since his entrance into the White House. There are men and women who have resigned and are threatening to come out of his team, if he continues with his rants and swagger. While in India intellectuals had run the gauntlet, human rights groups and judiciary have taken it upon themselves in the US to produce a wall before the sweeping policy changes of Trump. There remain other similarities between them as well, including religious overtones. And, yes, of course, if given a hint about their similarities, Modi might try to replicate the Mexico wall, and build one of his own against Pakistan. However, his core support base might remind him that the land across the wall is also India’s. Having said that, the similarities have extended beyond reasonable limits. The first point of difference to be noted between Modi and Trump is that of their method. Modi rode into the power corridors over horses, which were made of blood. Can anyone in his right mind claim that Modi could have become the prime minister of India had Gujarat riots not occurred? In fact, can anyone even claim that the parent organisation of Modi, BJP, could have come to power without demolishing the Babri Masjid? Only someone hopelessly insane would believe so. Blood and BJP are intertwined. From Savarkar to S M Mookherjee, violence remains a key tool in the discourse. It was only after violent agitations and subsequent polarisation that the right wing in India had come close to sniffing distance of powerful chairs. Time and again, it has been proved that communal polarisation comes to the aid of the right-wing in India. However, that is not the case with Trump. He does not have a history of blood on his hands. He might have had his share of Trump towers and flopped Trump University but there is no Naroda Patiya in his personal history. His name does not evoke images of loot and plunder; blood and gore; men and women folding hands, pleading for mercy. At worst, we conjure images of financial frauds and groping of women, but violence and threats of violence are far from his electioneering. Secondly, while religion alone has played a significant part in the polarisation of Modi, Trump was thrown on the political horizon of the US by doses of both race as well as religion. The “white privilege” has itself acquired a kind of a religious status in the US. To be white, regardless of ancestry, is to be more American than say a red Indian who is autochthonous, and has more right to the land than Trump himself (and his Slovakian-origin wife). These two men belong to right-wing politics. But their politics is not the same even if they might appear to be similar. The essential motivating force behind Modi’s right-wing politics is rooted in religion. He uses Hinduism to unite one religious community against the rest. That is not true of Trump. If he was only speaking against Islam then he would not have asked Mexican Christians to stay away from the US. He would not have threatened to impose higher tariffs on Mexican products, and then use that in building a wall. He prioritises Christians, however, beneath this prioritisation is the fear of the different-looking ‘other’. That ‘other’ is generally anyone who does not have a white colour. This includes all races, which are not white. Beneath the claims of the new president is the fear of being overwhelmed by the non-white population. Racial nationalism seems to be at work here, a racial aggregation, which threatens to take out the rest; commonly known through terms like white supremacism, white power, and even white civilisation. Was it not Toni Morrison, the African-American novelist, who clarified that it is the black, which united the US, and kept them from killing each other? One major difference between the two leaders remains in the terms of protectionism and expansionism. Trump is withdrawing his country from international agreements and treaties, seeking to consolidate the internal position of the country. He is erecting a psychological wall around the collective imagination of the countrymen. He has been brusque in stating that the mess in the Middle East is due to the Iraq War, which the US should not have waged. Thus, he is calling for an end to such misadventures. However, in the sub-continent, Doval Doctrine still remains in place, which has and continues to spur active intervention in foreign countries. The map in the deepest recesses of Modi is not the one with Jammu and Kashmir on the top but one in which the crown lies in Afghanistan. Akhand Bharat is a state of mind, and expansionism is, thus, a congenital need rather than a temporary strategic maneuver. One critical difference is that while Modi’s opposition has become like Team B of his plans, Trump’s opposition stands firm on its ideological footing, with no effort to copy his polarising tactics in order to win back the road to power. The writer is a columnist, author, and lecturer at the University of Kashmir, Srinagar. He can be reached at javjnu@gmail.com