Frontline ·
The rise of vegetarian fundamentalism
Vegetarianism becomes dangerous when a private or religious practice acquires the authority to decide what an entire society should eat, and Bengal’s resistance to this pressure is ultimately a defence of cultural pluralism.
Decades ago, when I was earning my spurs at a newspaper, late journalist Mohan Ram recounted an anecdote of former Prime Minister Narasimha Rao admonishing bureaucrats for writing Nonaligned as Non-aligned. “When a term is prefixed with non-, it acquires a negative connotation,” Rao lectured them.
Ram’s account was my moment of epiphany: I realised vegetarians have been harnessing semantics to display their disdain for food not prepared solely from plants or milk products. Indian society has internalised their sentiments, clubbing mutton, chicken, and fish under the category of non-vegetarian.
West Bengal is among the exceptions. Its people, as do those in some areas in the East, use the term aamish to refer to dishes made of mutton, chicken, and fish. Its opposite is niraamish, or non-meat, non-fish preparations. This is understandable: why would Bengalis look negatively upon the food for which they have an extreme fondness?
