The Rise of Corporate Communal Nationalism: What Ambedkar Warned the World About

by Kumar Gaurav

The political landscape of India today reveals a pattern that should concern democratic societies everywhere, not just those watching from within the country. A fusion of corporate power and majoritarian nationalism has taken root under the BJP government, creating a model of governance that blends economic concentration with cultural dominance. It is a model that resonates far beyond India’s borders. Similar patterns appear in countries where identity based politics rises simultaneously with the expanding reach of a small corporate elite.

More than seventy years ago, B. R. Ambedkar, one of India’s foremost political thinkers and the chief architect of its Constitution, warned about exactly this combination. He feared what he called “dual domination”: a political order where economic power concentrates in private hands while cultural or religious power concentrates in the majority community. In his view, this merger was not just dangerous. It was the fastest route to dismantling democratic equality.

The world is witnessing this dynamic take shape in India through two parallel developments: the growth of Hindu nationalist politics and the expanding influence of a handful of major conglomerates. When seen together, they create a model of corporate communal nationalism that Ambedkar would have identified instantly.

In recent years, the Indian economy has become heavily top loaded, with a small number of corporations receiving significant state support through policy direction, regulatory changes, and preferential access. This concentration of wealth does not occur in isolation. It moves in step with a political narrative that places Hindu identity at the center of national belonging. The state promotes cultural majoritarianism while simultaneously creating conditions favorable to specific corporate actors. It is precisely the merger Ambedkar cautioned against: the power of capital aligning with the power of majority sentiment.

From the perspective of Western readers, this trend might look familiar. It echoes how populist identity politics in the United States, parts of Europe, and South America has aligned with powerful economic interests. When identity becomes a political motivator and corporate influence shapes policy, democratic institutions weaken. What separates the Indian case is the scale. India is the world’s largest democracy, and the synthesis of corporate influence with religious nationalism offers a new model for how majoritarian politics can be maintained and expanded.

Ambedkar’s relevance to this moment becomes clear once one understands his intellectual project. He wanted to build a democratic society that protected individuals from every form of domination: political, social, and economic. He believed that democracy collapses not only when the state becomes authoritarian but also when private power becomes large enough to influence public life without accountability. He also believed that cultural majorities have a responsibility to restrain themselves, not to impose their identity through political force.

The present reality in India breaks from this logic. The political message of Hindu nationalism has created a climate where dissenting voices face pressure or prosecution, where minority communities live with uncertainty, and where national belonging is increasingly defined by cultural conformity rather than constitutional citizenship. At the same time, economic policy has prioritized deregulation and concentrated growth among the country’s largest business houses. When cultural nationalism aligns with a select group of corporate interests, it produces a system in which both wealth and identity become tools of political consolidation.

Ambedkar would call this a structural problem, not a temporary political trend. He wrote extensively about how hierarchical societies reproduce themselves when power rests in too few hands. In a country where religious identity has immense emotional force, he feared that unregulated capitalism could attach itself to majoritarian passions. This would create an order where the state serves the interests of the dominant group and its allied corporate actors, leaving minorities and workers without real protection.

For Western audiences observing this shift, the Indian case offers a window into a larger global question: what happens when economic oligarchy merges with cultural or religious nationalism? The answer matters because this combination can be more powerful than either element alone. Corporate power brings resources, media influence, and the ability to shape public perception. Cultural nationalism brings votes, emotional loyalty, and political legitimacy. Together, they can erode institutional checks, weaken civil liberties, and reshape the public sphere with remarkable speed.

Ambedkar’s writings remind us that democracy depends on both political equality and economic fairness. He believed that concentrated wealth could be as dangerous as concentrated political authority. A society where private capital grows unchecked, and where government policy amplifies the identity of the majority, edges toward a system that excludes those who fall outside its preferred categories. This is not just an Indian dilemma. It is a global warning.

Western democracies have their own versions of this problem. In the United States, political polarization often aligns with the economic interests of powerful industries. In Hungary and Poland, cultural nationalism merges with corporate aligned governance. In Brazil under Bolsonaro, identity driven politics paired with deregulation and privatization. India’s trajectory fits into this global pattern, but its scale and the centrality of religion make the stakes dramatically higher.

Ambedkar would argue that democracy cannot survive if economic and cultural power reinforce each other instead of balancing one another. He believed that the state must act as a counterweight, not an enabler. Today, however, the Indian state often acts as the bridge that connects the two: promoting Hindu majoritarianism on one side and encouraging corporate consolidation on the other.

The result is a form of governance that uses identity to mobilize the electorate and economic concentration to maintain influence. It is efficient, powerful, and difficult to challenge through ordinary democratic means. And it is precisely the model Ambedkar hoped India would never adopt.

The world should pay attention not because India is unique but because India is a preview. The merging of economic oligarchy with cultural nationalism is increasingly visible across democracies. Ambedkar’s warnings, though rooted in another century, speak urgently to this moment. He believed that democracy must be defended not only from authoritarian states but from alliances that make domination appear natural.

The rise of corporate communal nationalism in India is one of the clearest examples of that alliance today. It deserves global scrutiny, not only for what it reveals about India’s future but for what it signals about the challenges facing democracies everywhere.