After the Red Fort blast, why are innocent Muslims being pushed under suspicion?
– Faisal Durrani
Hyderabad
The car explosion near the Red Fort Metro Station in Delhi on 10 November 2025 has stirred panic, grief and nationwide debate. The vehicle, a white Hyundai i20, had been parked near the monument hours before it detonated. Media reports estimate between eight and 13 fatalities, with many more injured. The government has declared the incident a terror attack by “anti-national forces”. Security has since been intensified across the capital and in other major cities.
Yet even before the investigation could reach clarity, an unfortunate trend resurfaced: suspicion and blame being disproportionately directed at India’s nearly 200 million Muslims.
Instead of interrogating how an attack occurred at one of the most sensitive locations in the capital, coordinated IT-cell activity aggressively shifted the conversation toward communal blame.
The Unfair Weight of Collective Blame
The alleged involvement of a doctor has revived concerns around “white-collar radicalisation”. Such cases demand serious investigation. But this raises the central question: Why should the actions of a few individuals be used to malign an entire community?
It is important to remember that Muslims, too, lost their lives in the blast. They were not perpetrators but victims, standing alongside other citizens at a bustling public space.
Furthermore, even India’s foremost security expert, National Security Adviser Ajit Doval, stated in his lecture “The Challenge of Global Terrorism” (delivered 11 years ago at the American India Foundation, available on YouTube) that nearly 80% of ISI agents arrested within India at that time were Hindus.
If the majority of recruited operatives once came from the majority community, profiling Muslims today has no rational basis. Terrorism has never belonged to a single faith; its motives have always been political, violent and extremist, not religious.
Islam, too, unequivocally condemns violence: “Whoever kills an innocent person, it is as though he has killed all of humanity.” (The Qur’an 5:32)
Pointing Fingers Is Easy – Living Under Suspicion Is Painful
Many do not understand the emotional burden of being viewed with suspicion despite doing nothing wrong. The weight of that silent suffering is immense. Media stereotypes – terrorists shown in skullcaps, beards, and kurta-pyjamas – have pushed many Muslims to hide or alter their traditional attire in public.
Young Muslim students face mockery disguised as humour: jokes about bombs, memes portraying Muslims as suspects, and the repeated “Brigadier Pratap” dialogue from the film Shaurya directed at them sarcastically.
These jokes may appear harmless, but they work like slow poison, embedding in young minds the idea that Muslim identity itself is suspicious. Most students engaging in such mockery do so because their thinking has been shaped by repeated propaganda from radicalised social media accounts.
Housing discrimination further deepens this alienation. In cities such as Mumbai, Delhi, Bengaluru and Ahmedabad, Muslims are routinely denied accommodation solely due to their faith. These everyday rejections shape how communities perceive their place in the nation. No citizen should ever feel compelled to hide their identity to feel secure.
Where Does Accountability Lie?
Instead of asking difficult but necessary questions about systemic shortcomings, a significant part of the discourse has shifted blame onto a community that is itself mourning. Security agencies were reportedly tracking the wider network behind the Red Fort blast. Several individuals were intercepted, and a large attack involving massive explosive material was successfully prevented – a major achievement.
But the final attacker – who carried out the suicide explosion – slipped through. And because lives were lost, this gap cannot be treated as an acceptable oversight.
Urgent questions arise: How did an explosive-laden vehicle manage to reach so close to a protected landmark? How did the final attacker evade detection despite earlier arrests? Were actionable intelligence inputs missed? Are deeper structural weaknesses in agencies being addressed or ignored? For years, the tradition of holding the government accountable for security failures has gradually disappeared. Today, instead of questioning institutional lapses, suspicion is redirected toward innocent Muslims, a diversion that shields failures rather than fixes them.
What demands far greater attention is the machinery of radicalisation itself: How are terror organisations recruiting individuals? What vulnerabilities are they exploiting? How are educated professionals – doctors in this case – allegedly being drawn into unlawful activities? What online/ offline ecosystems enable such manipulation? What counter-radicalisation strategies does India urgently need?
Unless these issues are addressed honestly, the cycle will continue: an attack occurs → innocent Muslims are blamed → systemic gaps remain. Blaming a community is politically convenient but it weakens national security.
When Leadership Adds to the Anxiety
In this already fragile environment, the remarks of Assam Chief Minister Himanta Biswa Sarma, implying that those who cannot sing Vande Mataram lack loyalty and that “a person never changes his colours,” intensified unease.
Many Muslims historically refrain from singing Vande Mataram because certain verses personify the nation as a deity, something Islamic scholars interpret as inconsistent with monotheistic belief. This is a matter of religious conscience, not national loyalty. The Supreme Court of India has repeatedly clarified that no citizen can be compelled to sing Vande Mataram or any patriotic song, and refusal to do so cannot be treated as disrespect or lack of patriotism.
Such statements therefore blur the line between patriotism and cultural conformity. Patriotism is demonstrated through fidelity to the Constitution and contributions to society, not through compulsory symbolic performances. Leaders must ease tensions, not inflame them.
Hate on Campuses: The ISI Kolkata Incident
Two days after the blast, hateful graffiti surfaced across the Boys’ Hostel of the Indian Statistical Institute (ISI), Kolkata. Messages declared that students of a particular community were “not allowed” in certain areas. ISI authorities condemned the act, calling it a violation of the institution’s values of inclusivity and scientific integrity. Yet, its very occurrence in a premier institute indicates a larger trend: hatred quietly entering academic spaces through normalised humour, stereotypes, and online influence.
Inclusivity is National Security
Inclusion is more than a moral principle; it is a strategic necessity. Communities that feel valued and protected are less vulnerable to manipulation by extremist organisations, especially in border regions. A society where Muslims feel embraced with apnapan – genuine belonging – leaves no psychological cracks for radical groups to exploit.
Inclusivity is therefore not just ethical; it’s a defence mechanism.
Honouring Our Security Personnel
The accidental explosion at the Nowgam Police Station in Jammu & Kashmir, which killed police personnel and forensic experts handling seized explosives, is a solemn reminder of the constant risks faced by those safeguarding the nation. Their courage must remain central in any conversation on national security.
Unity Through Justice, Not Suspicion
India’s strength lies in its pluralistic foundation. Unity cannot be built through fear or profiling. It requires: justice, equality before the Constitution, integrity in institutions, and dignity for every citizen. A terrorist has no religion. A traitor has no community. Crime belongs only to the criminal.
The Nation Must Choose Its Path
After every tragedy, India faces a fork in the road: Will we stand united in resolve, or allow suspicion to fracture our social fabric? If hate-driven narratives are allowed to dominate, we strengthen the very forces that seek to divide and harm us.
