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THE GARLAND AND THE GROVEL

THE GARLAND AND THE GROVEL

On the Invitation of Laura Loomer to the India Today Conclave,

and What It Reveals About the Ideology That Made It Possible

 

by Mohan Dutta

•  •  •

There is a particular kind of humiliation that announces itself as hospitality. It arrives with garlands. It comes with five-star hotel suites, red-carpet arrivals, and the warm, practiced smiles of media executives trained since childhood in the arts of deference. It speaks in the language of robust debate and diversity of thought, those phrases that function, in contemporary Indian public life, as the velvet glove over the fist of self-abasement. In March 2026, the India Today Conclave—that annual convocation of the Indian establishment, where Bollywood stars commune with defense analysts and billionaires applaud one another’s banalities—offered a case study in the form so pristine it could have been designed in a laboratory.

The guest: Laura Loomer, the Florida-based far-right provocateur whose public corpus, until recently scrubbed for the occasion, constituted a sustained, detailed, and remarkably inventive assault on the dignity of approximately 1.4 billion people. The venue: the Taj Palace Hotel, New Delhi, that monument to post-colonial aspiration where one can eat a seven-thousand-rupee breakfast while gazing out at a city where the average daily wage would not cover the toast. The theme of the year’s proceedings: “Year of Breakthroughs and Breakdowns.” One is almost grateful for the accidental honesty.

•  •  •

Before we consider the invitation’s implications, it is worth pausing over what exactly is being invited. Not the abstraction of “controversial opinion”—that comfortable euphemism—but the specific, documented, screenshot-preserved record of Loomer’s commentary on India. The archive is instructive, not because it is unusual in the ecosystem of American white identitarianism, but because it is so perfectly representative of it.

In December 2024, Loomer addressed her audience with the directness for which she is known: “Our country was built by white Europeans, actually. Not third world invaders from India.” She elaborated that the American Dream was a white-European creation never intended for “pro open border techies.” And then, because the argument apparently required a scatological flourish to achieve its full rhetorical force, she posed a question about Indians bathing in the water they defecate in. When challenged, she refined her position: India does possess running water. It simply, in her formulation, “runs out of people’s asses.”

There was more. There is always more. “High skilled immigrant,” she wrote, deploying skeptical quotation marks like a coroner’s sheet over the corpse of a compliment. “Doesn’t have running water or toilet paper.” This post received 8.3 million views—a figure that might give one pause, or might not, depending on one’s remaining faith in the attention economy. She produced a map of global IQ scores, shading India in the color reserved for the disappointing, and tagged the former President of the United States to ensure the data reached the appropriate desk. The average IQ in India, she announced, was 76. The “best and brightest,” she noted, with the devastating irony of someone who has never once wondered whether the platforms on which she broadcasts her contempt were engineered by graduates of IIT.

This, then, is the speaker. This is the person the India Today Group, that bastion of Indian media respectability, chose to fly to New Delhi, garland at the airport, install in a luxury suite, and invite to hold forth on terrorism. One wonders what form of terror she intended to address—perhaps the terror of competent coders who use indoor plumbing.

•  •  •

But the invitation alone does not capture the full texture of the occasion. For that, one must consider the ceremony—the garland, the stage, the songs—and specifically the figure presiding over them: Kalli Purie, Vice Chairperson and Executive Editor-in-Chief of the India Today Group, daughter of the founder, product of Modern School, Delhi, and St. Hugh’s College, Oxford, where she read Politics, Philosophy, and Economics—that degree which, in the British system, functions less as an education than as a class credential, a three-year seminar in the manners of rule.

All that pedigree. All that cultivation. The London polish, the Oxbridge vowels, the inherited media empire. And what did it produce? Not the confidence to question whether platforming a woman who describes Indians as subhuman might, on balance, be unwise. Not the dignity to simply decline. Instead, it produced a garland so vast it could have served as a flotation device for the entire Indian Navy, draped with ceremony around the neck of a woman who believes Indians drink the water they defecate in. It produced a full-throated, televised rendition of the regime’s greatest slogans—Atma Nirbhar Bharat! Sab ka saath, sab ka vikas! Vishwaguru!—delivered with the sincerity of a performer who has internalized not only the lyrics but the logic, the logic that says: we can sing about self-reliance while garlanding our own contempt, and no one will notice the dissonance, because the cameras are rolling and the hashtags are trending.

Vishwaguru—India, world teacher. Now seated, humbly, at the feet of a woman whose concept of global pedagogy is a tweet about rectal hydrology. The irony was so dense it could have been served as a second course at the banquet.

•  •  •

It would be tempting—and insufficient—to treat this as an isolated lapse in editorial judgment, the sort of mishap that might befall any media organization with more ambition than sense. But the Loomer invitation is not an anomaly. It is a symptom, and the disease it reveals has a name, though the patient refuses the diagnosis.

Modernist Hindutva—the version that has governed India for over a decade, that stages G20 summits and launches moon missions and builds temples at speed—was supposed to cure India of its postcolonial cringe. It was meant to be the antidote to the inferiority complex, the assertive reclamation of civilizational confidence. And in certain limited respects—the spectacle of infrastructure, the theater of national pride—it has delivered the appearance of that cure. But appearance, as any diagnostician knows, is not health. And beneath the swagger, beneath the chest-thumping rhetoric about ancient glory, the patient’s vital signs tell a different story.

The story is one of dependence—not material, but psychological. Hindutva, for all its civilizational bluster, craves validation from a very specific quarter: the white Western right. Not the liberals, who at least pretend to admire Indian culture while appropriating its yoga. Not the progressives, who would bore a saffron rally to tears with their intersectionality. No, Hindutva seeks the nod of the identitarians, the alt-right, the MAGA ecosystem—the very people who, when they think of India at all, think of it as Loomer does: as a punchline, a source of cheap labor, a civilization whose greatest contribution to modernity is an app for crowdfunding racists.

This is the paradox at the heart of the project. The ideology that claims to reject Western hegemony has internalized its most toxic variant. It does not resist the white gaze; it courts it. It does not answer contempt with indifference; it answers it with garlands.

•  •  •

And the Loomer invitation is not the only data point. Consider the reports—persistent, credible, and unrefuted—that the same regime fed the precise locations of Iranian warships, which had joined India for a peaceful naval exercise, straight to the United States. Iranian vessels. Friendly vessels. Guests of the Indian Navy, operating in good faith under the terms of a bilateral engagement. And someone, somewhere in the architecture of Hindutva’s foreign policy, decided the appropriate course of action was to hand their coordinates to Washington like a schoolboy passing a note in class.

If the Loomer invitation is the cultural expression of the grovel, the Iranian-ship leak is its geopolitical equivalent. Both follow the same logic: sovereign solidarity with a partner nation is an abstract nicety, but the approval of the American hegemon is a concrete necessity. Better to betray a friendly navy than risk the displeasure of the empire whose far-right fringe you are busy garlanding. The pattern is not a series of mistakes. It is a doctrine.

And the doctrine has a name, though it goes by many euphemisms in polite company. In the corridors of South Block, it is called “strategic pragmatism.” In the greenrooms of the India Today Conclave, it is called “engagement.” In the language of unsparing description, it is called what it is: the systematic subordination of Indian sovereignty, Indian dignity, and Indian self-respect to the project of securing a pat on the head from people who regard India as a civilization-sized joke.

•  •  •

The irony compounds when one examines what Loomer is actually opposed to. Her target is not illegal immigration, though she occasionally borrows its vocabulary. Her target is the H-1B visa program—the legal, regulated, corporate-sponsored mechanism through which Indian engineers have become indispensable to the American technology sector. She rails not against undocumented border crossers but against, specifically, highly credentialed professionals from India who arrive through lawful channels to write the code that runs American life. Her contempt is not for the desperate but for the accomplished. She resents not poverty but competence.

And yet. The Conclave, organized by a media group that routinely celebrates India’s software prowess as evidence of civilizational resurgence, invited this woman to speak on terrorism. The cognitive dissonance is not a bug. It is a feature. It is the sound of an ideology so desperate for external validation that it will platform someone who mocks the very achievement—technical excellence—that the ideology claims as its own vindication. It is the sound of a movement that has consumed itself, that has become so dependent on the approval of those who despise it that it can no longer distinguish between recognition and ridicule.

•  •  •

The defenders, of course, will arrive on schedule. They always do, equipped with a familiar toolkit of deflections.

She is only against illegal immigration. Except the tweets specify “third world invaders from India,” a formulation that does not distinguish between visa categories.

She criticizes all cultures equally. Except the record shows a fixation on India that borders on the monographic—posts about Indian hygiene, Indian intelligence, Indian water quality, with a specificity that suggests not casual bigotry but committed research.

It’s just free speech. True. And free speech includes the right of a billion people to observe that inviting one’s most energetic detractor, garlanding her on national television, and then leaking allied naval positions to her government is the geopolitical equivalent of writing “kick me” on one’s own forehead.

Diversity of thought! As if giving a platform to someone who tweets about water that “runs out of people’s asses” constitutes intellectual pluralism rather than a particularly inventive form of national masochism.

•  •  •

The deeper tragedy—and here one must set aside the satirist’s instruments for a moment, because what follows requires a different register—is what this does to the idea of India itself. Not the India of partisan slogans, but the India that gave the world zero, that produced Tagore and Ramanujan and Ambedkar, that conceived of nonviolence as a political technology before the West had a word for it. That India—the India of genuine civilizational confidence, which never needed a Florida influencer’s approval to know its own worth—is not served by this spectacle. It is diminished by it.

A nation that once boycotted the British salt trade now garlands the people who mock its water supply. A movement that claims to represent the soul of the oldest continuous civilization on earth now measures its success by the number of white supremacists willing to accept its hospitality. A regime that launched a spacecraft to the moon’s south pole now trades allied naval coordinates for the hope of a favorable mention on an American podcast.

This is not the behavior of a civilization confident in its own greatness. It is the behavior of a civilization that suspects it is not great at all, and that no number of moon landings, G20 photo-ops, or patriotic karaoke sessions around the neck of a racist will quiet that suspicion. The garland, in the end, is not for Loomer. It is for the doubt.

•  •  •

In the tradition of Swift, one is tempted to propose a solution. Let all future Conclaves begin with a mandatory screening of the guest of honor’s greatest hits. Let the audience—the saffron-stole ministers, the corporate titans, the defense analysts and Bollywood luminaries—sit in their ballroom chairs and read, aloud, every word their invitee has published about them. Let them recite the IQ scores. Let them repeat the running-water jokes. Let them absorb the full, unedited contempt of the person they have chosen to garland, platform, and celebrate.

And then—only then—let the event proceed. It would lend the proceedings a bracing honesty. It would match the deed to the word. And in an era when Hindutva claims to speak for the civilizational soul of India, a moment of honesty about its actual insecurities might be the only genuine breakthrough left.

Until that day, we are left with the image—perfect in its absurdity, devastating in its implications—of the world’s largest democracy rolling out the red carpet for the woman who thinks its greatest contribution to humanity is a punchline about defecation. The garland around her neck. The songs in the air. The allied coordinates already transmitted. The crowd applauding. The hashtags trending. And somewhere, beneath it all, the faint, unmistakable sound of a civilization negotiating, with agonizing politeness, the terms of its own irrelevance.

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