Editorial February 2026

Posted on: February 9, 2026 by: Deshvidesh

Religious Intolerance — And the Courage to Accept Other Faiths as Our Own

It is often said—almost as social wisdom—“Never discuss politics or religion with friends and family.” These two subjects ignite emotions. They test loyalties. They can fracture relationships that took years to build.

But what about discussions on religion in public spaces? What happens when deeply held beliefs are not whispered at dinner tables but declared boldly in open forums?

Two weeks ago, I had an experience that forced me to confront this question directly.

At a public community event in South Florida, several organizations had set up booths. Among them was a local church operated by members of the Indian community. Out of curiosity—and perhaps habit—I walked up to the booth and began a conversation about religion.

What began as a polite exchange soon turned intense.

One of the non-Indian church members made a statement that was both familiar and startling in its directness. I have heard it before. I have read it in books and online debates. But never had I encountered it so plainly, face-to-face, in a one-on-one conversation.

He said, “Christ is the only way to salvation.” He went further: “All other religions are fake imitations of Christianity.”

For a moment, I paused.

As someone who has spent decades promoting Hindu values, culture, and philosophy—through publishing, community events, and personal dialogue—I could not let such a statement pass without response.

I reminded him that Christianity has existed for a little over 2,000 years. Human civilization stretches back far beyond that. Was he suggesting that every soul who lived before the birth of Christ—across continents and civilizations—was denied salvation?

Were the ancient Egyptians, Greeks, Native Americans, Chinese sages, Vedic rishis, and countless generations of seekers simply condemned by chronology? And what about the assertion that all other religions are “fake imitations”?

I pointed out that respected historians and scholars—many of them not Hindu—have documented that Hindu traditions date back more than 5,000 years. If age alone were the measure of authenticity, then one could argue, with equal audacity, that newer religions are imitations of older spiritual traditions.

But reflection demands honesty. Religious intolerance does not always shout. Sometimes it hides behind certainty. Sometimes it appears in the form of exclusivity—“Only my path is valid.” Yet intolerance does not belong to one religion alone. It is a human weakness.

A few days prior to that public exchange, someone shared another incident with me, leaving me equally unsettled.

A Hindu family shared with me the story of their young daughter attending a Catholic school. On the day of Diwali, she went to school wearing a small bindi on her forehead. For her, it was not a political statement. It was not an act of defiance. It was an expression of joy—of culture, of tradition, of celebrating the Festival of Lights.

As soon as the school principal saw the bindi, he reportedly rubbed it off her forehead and told her not to wear “something like that” in school.

Pause for a moment and absorb that image.

A child.
A sacred festival.
A tiny dot of identity.
Erased.

One may argue that schools have dress codes. One may argue about uniformity. But we must ask a deeper question: Would the same action have been taken if a student wore a cross necklace? Would a Christmas symbol have been removed? Would an Ash Wednesday cross on the forehead have been wiped away?

The issue here is not about attacking Catholic institutions. It is about examining double standards. It is about asking whether religious freedom truly applies equally—or selectively.

For that young girl, what message was sent?

That her faith is unwelcome? That her identity must be hidden? That assimilation requires erasure?

America prides itself on religious liberty. The First Amendment protects freedom of belief and expression. Yet real freedom is not measured by laws alone. It is measured by daily experiences—especially those of children.

For immigrant communities, these moments carry emotional weight. Parents choose schools hoping for academic excellence and moral grounding. They do not expect their children’s cultural expressions to be dismissed.

Religious intolerance is not always dramatic. It does not always come with shouting or violence. Sometimes it comes quietly—in small acts that communicate exclusion.

The booth conversation and the bindi incident may seem unrelated, but they are connected by a common thread: the belief that one religious identity holds superiority over others.

In the first case, the superiority was theological: “Only my religion leads to salvation.” In the second case, it was institutional: “Your symbol does not belong here.” Both reflect a discomfort with pluralism.

And yet, pluralism is the reality of modern America—especially in places like South Florida. Temples, churches, mosques, and synagogues stand within miles of each other. Our children sit in the same classrooms. Our businesses serve diverse communities. We weave our neighborhoods together.

In such an environment, religious intolerance is not just morally troubling—it is socially unsustainable.

Hindu philosophy offers a powerful counterpoint. The ancient declaration from the Rig Veda—

“Ekam sat vipra bahudha vadanti” Meaning Truth is one; the wise call it by many names.

This is not merely poetic. It is civilizational wisdom. It does not demand uniformity. It allows diversity. True pluralism does not require abandoning conviction. It requires holding conviction without contempt.

There is a profound difference between saying, “This is my path, and I believe in it wholeheartedly,” and saying, “Your path is false, inferior, or invalid.” The first statement invites dialogue. The second closes the door.

The bindi incident also challenges us internally. As Hindus and Indian Americans, are we equally respectful of others’ symbols? Do we defend the rights of all communities—or only when our own is affected? Acceptance is not agreement. Respect is not surrender.

When I reflect on my exchange at that booth, I recognize that intellectual arguments alone do not resolve intolerance. History, chronology, and scriptural citations may win debates—but they rarely win hearts. What transforms hearts is exposure, empathy, and experience.

Perhaps that church member has never studied Hindu philosophy deeply. Perhaps that school principal has never understood what a bindi represents auspiciousness, spiritual focus, and cultural pride.

Ignorance is not always malicious. Sometimes it is simply an unexamined habit. But unexamined habits, when institutionalized, become discrimination.

If religion is meant to elevate humanity, then its measure cannot be exclusivity. It must be compassion.

Jesus preached love. Krishna taught duty grounded in dharma. Buddha emphasized compassion. Prophet Muhammad spoke of mercy.

Yet followers across traditions sometimes use sacred teachings to draw boundaries rather than build bridges.

As community leaders, publishers, and parents, we must model a different path. Our children are watching how we respond to intolerance. If they see anger alone, they will inherit resentment. If they see dignity combined with courage, they will inherit strength.

The young girl whose bindi was wiped away may grow up remembering that moment. The question is, will she remember it as humiliation—or as motivation to stand proudly in her identity?

Religious confidence does not require suppressing others. True spirituality is not insecure. It does not fear comparison. It does not demand erasure. It does not depend on declaring others wrong to feel right.

The Earth is older than any single religion. Humanity’s spiritual search predates all organized institutions. Across centuries and continents, people have looked at the same sky and asked the same eternal questions.

Different languages.
Different rituals.
Different symbols.
One shared human longing.

Perhaps we should not avoid discussions about religion in public spaces. Instead, we should elevate them. Let them be conversations rooted in curiosity rather than conquest. Religious intolerance begins when humility disappears. Acceptance begins when humility returns.

And in a world increasingly divided by ideology, the courage to honor another’s faith—while remaining steadfast in our own—may be the highest expression of faith itself.

Let me close this editorial by reiterating the Universal Peace Prayer from Hindu Scripture.

Om Asato Maa Sad-Gamaya |

Tamaso Maa Jyotir-Gamaya |

Mrtyor-Maa Amrtam Gamaya |

Om Shaantih Shaantih Shaantih ||

Om, lead me from the world of unreality to the reality of the eternal self,
Lead me. From the Darkness of Ignorance towards the Light of Spiritual Knowledge,

Lead me from the world of mortality towards the world of immortality of self-realization,

Om, peace, peace, peace.