A recent riot in Nagpur, ostensibly sparked by a film and the excavation of historical grievances, underscores a grim reality: minor triggers now routinely escalate into religious discord. According to a report, communal violence in India surged by 84% in 2024 compared to the previous year. Tragically, Maharashtra—a state that once prided itself on the progressive legacies of Shahu, Phule, and Ambedkar—has now emerged as a hotspot for religious polarization, overturning Uttar Pradesh’s notorious record. This trend reflects how social media has become pivotal in amplifying tensions, turning local incidents into global spectacles. Globalization, once synonymous with economic integration, now mirrors the “globalization” of identity politics and polarization. Just as technological progress accelerated global interconnectedness, it has also turbocharged ancient casteist and communal hatreds, spreading them faster and wider.
The Changing Face of Riots
Historically, riots were localized. Whether post-Gandhi assassination anti-Brahmin violence, post-Babri Masjid riots, or the Godhra aftermath, unrest began in one area and slowly spread, often confined to major cities. Post-2010, however, riots have become decentralized. A film releases nationwide, Aurangzeb’s tomb stirs conflict in Marathwada, and riots erupt in Nagpur. Technology accelerates this dispersion. In 2023, a video of a Hindu man being assaulted in Haryana’s Nuh district went viral, sparking riots—only for investigators to later discover the clip was from Syria. Similarly, the 2013 Muzaffarnagar riots were fueled by a misleading video falsely attributed to local Muslims. The 2020 Delhi riots, which claimed 53 lives, exemplified meticulously planned violence via WhatsApp groups. In Nagpur’s recent riots, investigators identified 97 fake social media posts. Swords and slogans have been replaced by viral videos and algorithms.
Technology and Riots
Urbanization and migration, facilitated by technology, have eroded traditional social cohesion. Historically, mixed-population cities thrived on shared cultural practices, minimizing riots. Migration disrupted this fabric. Newcomers, unmoored from local heritage, became fertile ground for polarization. Political groups weaponized competition over resources, framing it through religious identity. Today, platforms like Facebook and WhatsApp, alongside cryptocurrencies, enable covert funding of communal discord. Deepfakes and AI now mass-produce disinformation, exploiting public confusion. Fear of missing out (FOMO) drives individuals to herd mentality, abandoning reason for mob allegiance. Meanwhile, state apathy and political glorification of perpetrators—like the Bilkis Bano case accused or Pune lynching suspects—normalize lawlessness. Social media amplifies this, celebrating vigilantes as “patriots” and communal hatred as “nationalism.”
The Web of Misinformation
What role do tech giants play? When riot-triggering fake videos are flagged after viral spread, why aren’t they preemptively blocked? The Guardian revealed that Facebook halted plans to remove fake accounts linked to Delhi’s 2020 election riots upon discovering ties to the ruling party. With over 300 million users—more than the U.S. population—and billions in revenue, Facebook treads carefully to avoid antagonizing power. The Wall Street Journal noted that most hate content during the Delhi riots was in Hindi and Bengali, languages Facebook’s systems then struggled to moderate. Worse, a 2019 New York Times experiment in Kerala showed how Facebook’s recommendation algorithms flooded a test account with hate speech and violent content within weeks. Once trapped in this digital web, even well-intentioned users spiral into radicalization.
Conclusion: Digital Dystopia
Technology has weaponized human emotion. Social media platforms now function as ecosystems that nurture violence, from seeding extremist ideas to choreographing mob action. As screen time rises, people increasingly mistake virtual realities for truth. Algorithms prioritize sensationalism, rewarding toxicity over nuance. WhatsApp and Telegram groups morph into digital mobs, translating online rage into real-world violence. Muzammil Bagwan, a 23-year-old Muslim caught in Pune’s riots, encapsulates this crisis: “In India, you’re innocent until proven guilty. But if you’re Muslim, you’re guilty until proven innocent.”
Nagpur’s riots have subsided, but the fraying of India’s pluralist fabric continues. With every riot—planned or spontaneous—the constitutional dream of a diverse, secular India withers. Technology’s march risks turning communal violence into a click away. In Marathi Riots are called Dangal. Unless those in power act decisively, the state’s anthem will soon echo: “Dangal Dangal baat chali hai, pata chala hai, …. phool khila hai”