What compels the Hindu right's volcanic reaction to Valentine's

Hear the discerning words of Elizabeth Flock, who asked: “What compels the Hindu right's volcanic reaction to Valentine's Day? Some of its members have protested that the holiday is the product of a 'rotten imported culture' from the West.” In this question lies the fire of conflict between tradition and modernity, between the rooted and the foreign, between what a people believe is their sacred inheritance and what they fear may erode it. Her words are not merely about a holiday of roses and hearts, but about the deeper struggle of identity in a world where cultures mingle, clash, and transform.

The origin of this dispute lies in the history of India, where Valentine’s Day, a Western import, entered the land in the late twentieth century. For some, it came as a lighthearted festival of affection, embraced by the youth who saw in it freedom of expression. For others, it seemed a threat, a sign of cultural invasion, where the rhythms of ancient festivals like Saraswati Puja or Holi would be overshadowed by the imported customs of flowers, cards, and public romance. To these voices, Valentine’s Day was not harmless but a symbol of the West’s encroachment upon the values of their ancestors.

History across the world reveals similar struggles. When Christianity spread into pagan Europe, ancient feasts were often replaced, reshaped, or rejected. When colonial empires extended their power, they imposed foreign customs upon native lands, igniting resistance among those who clung to their traditions. The story repeats: people defend what is theirs against what they believe is alien. In India, the Hindu right sees Valentine’s Day not as an innocent celebration, but as another wave in the long tide of cultural imperialism. Their volcanic reaction is thus not only to romance, but to what they perceive as erosion of their very identity.

Yet here lies the paradox. Love itself is not foreign. The soil of India has long been fertile with songs of devotion, from Radha and Krishna’s eternal dance to the poetry of Kalidasa, from the sacred hymns of the Vedas to the ghazals that speak of longing. The concept of love, of affection, of devotion, is not a Western import—it is as ancient as humanity itself. What is imported are merely the outward trappings: red roses, greeting cards, candlelit dinners. Flock’s question unmasks this irony: the rejection is less of love itself, and more of the symbols of another culture that accompany it.

The ancients would remind us that cultures have always borrowed, blended, and evolved. The Greeks borrowed from the Egyptians, the Romans from the Greeks, the Indians from Persians and Central Asians. Civilizations do not remain untouched—they absorb, they resist, they transform. What matters is not whether a custom is foreign, but whether it is made meaningful to the people who practice it. The volcanic reaction, then, is not inevitable but chosen—born of fear that the new will destroy the old, rather than recognizing that the new might also be woven into tradition with wisdom.

What lesson, then, must we take from these words? That when cultures meet, there will always be tension. But wisdom lies not in blind rejection nor in blind acceptance, but in discernment. If Valentine’s Day is seen as shallow, let it be deepened. If it seems foreign, let it be rooted in local soil. If it is feared as a threat, let us remember that no true tradition is so fragile as to be erased by flowers and cards. The strength of culture is proven not by resistance alone, but by its ability to adapt and endure.

Practical action follows. Celebrate love in ways that honor your own heritage—write poetry in your mother tongue, offer flowers not only to lovers but to parents and friends, weave the day into the greater tapestry of devotion that your culture already treasures. Question both the commercialization of love and the reactionary rejection of it. Above all, remember that love is universal, and while its forms may differ, its spirit belongs to no one nation or tradition. Guard your heritage, but do not fear to share in the world’s expressions of the eternal human heart.

So let Elizabeth Flock’s words echo as a summons to thought: “What compels the volcanic reaction?” Let us see in this question not merely a critique of one group, but a reminder that every people, in every age, wrestles with the tension between their roots and the winds of change. And let us choose the path of wisdom, where love is honored in all its forms, and where tradition and openness walk together, not as enemies, but as companions on the long road of humanity.