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Hinduism
7 min read

Rishi Sunak’s wealth and why he doesn’t apologise for it

Commentary on wealth prompts Rahil Patel to explore Hindu, and Christian, attitudes to prosperity.

Rahil is a former Hindu monk, and author of Found By Love. He is a Tutor and Speaker at the Oxford Centre for Christian Apologetics.

A red carpet lies on a grand entrance to a newly constructed Hindu temple.
A £86m Hindu temple newly constructed in the UAE.

When Rishi Sunak was on the verge of becoming the UK’s first Asian Hindu Prime Minister much of the British media was hounding him about his extraordinary wealth . At the time, the BBC’s North America editor Jon Sopel had just returned to London from Washington DC and commented on Twitter/X that the media commentary on Mr. Sunak’s wealth were ‘very British’ in nature. After considerable time covering the America’s financially seismic politics we might sympathise with Mr. Sopel’s diagnosis. 

However, the question of money and wealth in politics or elsewhere for that matter is not just a cultural divide between Britain and America. It is a significant religious divide between those of the Christian faith and those from a Hindu background.  

A startling truth that many Christians is that in Christianity you can’t serve God and Money. In Hinduism, you can. In fact, you must! Dharma (moral duty), Artha (wealth), Kama (pleasure) and Moksha (liberation of the Self from birth and rebirth) are the four ‘spiritual paths’ all Hindus of all traditions must pursue (unless one decides to take a more monastic route of course)! 

PM Sunak could have shot back at the press by simply saying, ‘could you please not offend my Hindu faith!’ Frankly, he would have been one hundred percent right. And as a minority faith believer in today’s United Kingdom  that volley response to a hawkish media would have halted them in their tracks. For better or worse, Christian political leaders can’t get away with that sort of thing… 

Wealth is a sign that ‘God is on your side.’ The only catch I must hasten to add is that when money is asked from a Hindu, one must not hesitate to give it away. 

It is true, along with all the intricately meditative, contemplative and devotional teachings across various Hindu traditions, nearly every single Hindu Guru will encourage and guide their followers to pursue money. After all, that’s how one builds beautiful temples and grows the Hindu faith. The Swaminarayan Hindu Movement for example have spent close to $700m building temples in North America over the last twenty years alone. Temples and shrines line the streets and sideways of India supplying its one billion Hindus plenty of space for belonging, prayer and worship. 

The Hindu concept of a temple to house the images of god is a Greek import into Hinduism during the fourth century AD. It is now a central spiritual pillar across all Hindu religions and money plays a key spiritual role lying  primarily on the shoulders of the Hindu believer. 

Temples tend to attract more wealth. The famous Tirupati Balaji Temple in South India’s Andhra Pradesh State has a net worth more than the market capitalisation of companies like Nestle, Wipro or Indian Oil Corporation.

Yes, it can be very transactional for Hindus at times but then there is a beautiful reminder in the minds of many Hindus that says, “it’s not mine anyway.” 

Tithing is a huge part of a devout Hindu’s life and so making money to give away is equally important. Wealth is a sign that ‘God is on your side.’ The only catch is that when money is asked from a Hindu, she must not hesitate to give it away. That’s the spiritual trick that reveals the attachment or detachment to money in a devout Hindu’s life. This spiritual test almost gives the guru the upper hand. His or her work will always flourish.  

In my life as a Hindu monk I have witnessed time and again how Hindus have been struck by the selfless giving of Christians and more so to causes that would never cross the mind of a Hindu.  

Giving to the downtrodden and marginalised in India is a very Christian action as it contradicts how a Hindu must play out their karma if they are destined to be poor or destitute. Hindus prefer to give to temples and earn god's direct blessing. Yes, it can be very transactional for Hindus at times but then there is a beautiful reminder in the minds of many Hindus that says, “it’s not mine anyway.” 

Every Hindu seeks Moksha (a liberation of the Self from birth and rebirth), not Salvation. One of the four key practices for that ultimate liberation from birth and rebirth is Vairagya which is to remain detached from earthly pleasures. Hindu doctrine does not say one can’t enjoy wealth but does say that if it is not in your possession one day for any reason one mustn’t lose Stita Pragnata (a still and balanced mind). Staying unaffected is the aim. If you are unaffected at the loss, your Atma (the Self) is very much on the path to Moksha.  

Famous stories of detachment to wealth are often woven into Hindu teachings as a healthy reminder. The ancient Hindu king Janaka sat rooted to the spot listening with rapt attention to his guru whilst his palace in the famous city of Mithila south of the Himalayas was burning. Ironically, it was the monks that stood up and ran to fetch their burning robes and food bowls revealing how detachment is an internal affair. 

Whilst money might deal with the ideas of detachment and attachment in a Hindu world it doesn’t really deal with the deep longing in the human heart which is to be able to trust in someone who is a good Father for all one’s needs. The deep but unknown longing that God has your back and will provide even when you falter or fail is never fulfilled. This is where and when Karma puts the final nail in hope’s coffin for a Hindu and this is why there is always a sense of restlessness and striving simmering underneath the face of spiritual detachment at all times. “All my worth in God’s eyes and man lies in this accumulation of wealth” is quite a common but subtle heart posture. This is not articulated in the mind of course but it is the engine driving the relentless hard work. 

Yes, Indians are a very successful community at every level of western society. The culture of family and frugality plays a good role in that success but if we were carefully and respectfully to place a microscope over the heart and mind of a Hindu the intricate mechanism behind the ‘success’ is running on the pistons of striving and performance. It is a tiring and gruelling inner world.  

Detachment from the world or money does not bring the rest, joy and hope that the heart  truly cries and craves. 

Jesus often talks about money because it’s probably the best tool for revealing the heart. It highlights the obvious pitfalls of the prosperity gospel whilst equally but more subtly exposes the false spiritual facade of the poverty gospel. “It’s very spiritual to be poor” can sneak into our hearts under the guise of humility quite often. Apologising for the Father’s blessing in life is one of many signs of the poverty gospel. To revert back to Jon Sopel's transatlantic perspective, the prosperity gospel is quite obvious in parts of the American church but the poverty gospel not so much. And, in my view it is quietly hidden in parts of the British church.  

You can give money because you are genuinely generous while others may part with money because they are guilty for having it! And yes, there are those of us who give away money because we are simply bad stewards of money. It all looks very much the same but Jesus is interested in the heart and what this profound tool amplifies in that deep and protected place.  

One very awkward question Hindus tend to ask a Christian when they feel a level of trust has been developed is ”why aren’t you financially blessed by your God?” It’s a fair question now that we know a Hindu’s general worldview on the matter. A Christian can answer by offering the security and sense of significance that Christ offers not just intellectually through eastern-style self-talk but by His Spirit who dwells in the heart of a believer. If wealth is added to that, so be it but one doesn’t chase after or apologise for it.  

Detachment from the world or money does not bring the rest, joy and hope that the heart  truly cries and craves. An “unaffected mind” brought forth with striving and performance is not the same as the deep Peace th that Jesus wants to offer.  

When Mahatma Gandhi was fasting during his ‘Quit India Movement’ he wasn’t fasting in the Hindu context of immolation of the body’s desires. Instead he fasted for those in the British administration, who he believed from his knowledge of the Christian faith, were slaves to money and power. He made this very clear in a letter to Lord Irwin who was the Viceroy of India during the Independence struggle.  

He knew that Christians should have one master uncoupled from mammon and if he used Christian principles against a civilisation based upon the message of the Messiah he would stand a far better chance.  A Hindu was fasting, for a Christian result. In short, he was fasting in the most un-Hindu way… 

Prime Minister Rishi Sunak recently in January 2024 revealed his weekly fasting routine in the aim of a ‘balanced lifestyle’ so that he can indulge in ‘sugary treats later in the week.’ Not quite the same as Gandhi’s desired result but still a devout Hindu at that and quite unapologetic about his wealth.

Article
Comment
War & peace
7 min read

How to disagree agreeably

How do we converse passionately about controversial topics without falling out or falling into war? Jörg Friedrichs shares his insights after a difficult conversation with a colleague.
Two 1950's men un suits sit at a table dominated by a large hanging microphone. One points a raise hand and finger into the air. The other listens.
A 1951 BBC debate between Iorwerth Thomas MP and Gwynfor Evans Teitl.
Llyfrgell Genedlaethol Cymru / The National Library of Wales, vis Unsplash.

Last year in spring, I bumped into an academic colleague whom I had not seen for a long time. I mean, we had talked over screens but not seen each other in person. He is a valued colleague, yet we ended up having a difficult conversation about the Ukraine war where we could have easily fallen out. It was close but, fortunately, did not happen, so let me share how we had a productive discussion instead. Of course, we did not end up agreeing on everything, but we did let one another finish. Avoiding an escalation was not easy then and is never easy in situations of this kind, but it is worth trying because relationships are more important than asserting personal viewpoints. 

Differences of opinion escalate easily in so many situations, especially in war-like ones. We see this with the war in Ukraine, but also in the context of the so-called culture wars. How do we disagree agreeably when people hold strong and principled views about controversial issues? Gender and lifestyle? Religion and race? How do we express a nuanced view that might question strongly held opinions, without either being labelled as something nefarious - “racist”, “woke”. Or thus labelling somebody else? What I am going to share is applicable to many situations, from the culture wars to marital disputes, from conversations over football to a post-mortem between parents when their kids have had a meltdown in the playground.  

Difficult conversations

There is no question that conflict generates false moral certainties, and it is often good to question them. Just because Russia attacked Ukraine, is anything to punish Russia justified? Conversely, just because Ukraine has suffered an attack, is it a victim nation deserving unlimited and unconditional support regardless of its own actions? Is the West, because it supports Ukraine, unquestionably in the right? Is any support of Russia, or even an attitude of neutrality, totally objectionable?  

In a war situation, people tend to look at things in a black-and-white fashion, and even-handed views are unpopular. Expressing them requires courage because partisan observers will attack us when we fail to roundly condemn one side while exonerating the other.  

How are we going to react when they do so? We will certainly feel put on the spot, but this does not disqualify their arguments. We therefore must consider their accusations with humility.  

In my conversation with the colleague, he accused me of spreading “Kremlin propaganda” when I suggested that the West should be more sensitive to the concerns expressed by Russia as a humiliated great power. Spreading Kremlin propaganda is not a minor accusation these days, and I did not feel I deserved it. I therefore found that, in a situation like this, keeping one’s patience is challenging. I was tempted to counterattack, perhaps accusing the colleague of being prejudiced. Instead, I had to take a deep breath and explain to him, as calmly as I could, that my aim was not to side with Russia but to suggest something that might have enabled, and might still enable, diplomatic negotiations and peaceful change rather than replicating a conflict that is so hugely damaging.  

From my point of view, the colleague had accused me unjustly, and so I found it difficult to render justice to what he was saying. Yet, while spreading Kremlin propaganda was not my aim, I had to recognise that part of what I had said overlapped with what a Kremlin propagandist might say. It was uncomfortable to accept that, perhaps, my colleague had put his finger on a vulnerable spot and I should take greater care to distance myself. To make things worse for myself, my colleague also pointed me to a factual inaccuracy regarding a historical detail.  In all honesty, I found it challenging to accept any form of criticism from someone who had just accused me of spreading Kremlin propaganda. Yet, the intellectual virtue of docility demanded me to concede the inaccuracy of this particular historical claim and stand corrected. I had to remember that, ultimately, what unites us is a search for truth, and that the truth can only reveal itself in a discursive spirit of give-and-take. 

Disagreeing agreeably 

We then had a productive discussion where I was able to point out that, during the crisis preceding the attack, Russia had made it very clear that the casus belli (cause of the war) had been a dispute over whether Ukraine was entitled to join a military alliance perceived as hostile by Russia. The USA and its allies insisted that this was not negotiable. Was that, and is that, worth a conflict that is killing countless people and has dire consequences for global energy and food systems? Has everything been done to avoid the war, and is everything being done to end it? While it is easy to see that Putin’s Russia is wrong, are we sure that “we” are right?  

Since the end of the Cold War, “we” (that is, Washington and its allies) have been involved in a significant number of military interventions, from Kosovo to Afghanistan and from Iraq to Libya. By comparison, Moscow has hardly been involved in any out-of-area interventions. Where Russia has invaded an adjacent country or region, as in Crimea and South Ossetia, the trigger was always the fear of a neighbouring country turning hostile. While attacking a neighbouring country is unacceptable, it seems fair to ask if the USA would stand by idly if a hostile power were extending its reach into its own regional neighbourhood (Cuba, Nicaragua, Granada). While a US attack on a country in its regional neighbourhood seems unlikely under present circumstances, there is a need to understand Russia beyond condemning the invasion of Ukraine. 

Unfortunately, propaganda from both sides has become so intense that it is becoming difficult to gain an even-handed understanding. There has even been open debate about using nuclear weapons. 35 years ago, the Cold War ended with a consensus that a nuclear war cannot be won and must never be fought. Indeed, fear of a nuclear holocaust was one of the reasons why the Cold War remained, largely, “cold.” There was communication with Moscow even under Brezhnev. Today, some would see a dialogue with Putin as treason. How can fundamental lessons of diplomacy and deterrence be unlearned so quickly?

We must value and recognize not only those whom we find it easy to empathize with, such as the Ukrainian and Russian people, but also those whom we dread and whom we fear. 

While my colleague stood his ground and reminded me, repeatedly, that “we” must punish or even humiliate Putin’s Russia for its attack on a sovereign country, we were able to have a calm debate where he listened to my arguments as much as I listened to his.  

This was only possible because I had stuck, as best I could, to a series of intellectual virtues, highlighted above in bold: courage; humility; patience; justice; docility; and search for truth. The list goes back to Nigel Biggar, a moral theologian who has adapted Christian virtues for intellectual needs. Professing such virtues is easy in principle, but hard in the heat of a real encounter. In the exchange with my colleague, I passed the test by the skin of my teeth. At other times, I fall short.  

Now, for those familiar with the lore of Christian virtues, you will know that 'six' is a weird number. Everything should come in 'sevens'. So Nigel Bigger gives us a final, seventh intellectual virtue. Charity. Quite possibly the most important.

If only we could become like brothers and sisters who are able to carry out our disagreements in love, giving each other the benefit of the doubt in having sincere intentions and reasoning to the best of our abilities.  

Of course, virtue sounds like a very grand word. Perhaps there are saintly figures who “possess” virtues as personal qualities. For the rest of us, virtues are aims to which we should strive, however much we struggle to reach them. Centuries ago, even a child would have been able to enumerate the seven virtues of Christian morality. Today, some of us may still remember the three theological virtues (love, faith and hope), but what were again the four natural or cardinal virtues? Well, never mind.  

In a twist that encapsulates the best of the Christian tradition, the virtues are not about being virtuous in a self-righteous way. Contrary to the pagan tradition where virtue is something heroic, Christian virtues are about valuing and recognizing others while humbling and decentring ourselves. We must value and recognize not only those whom we find it easy to empathize with, such as the Ukrainian and Russian people, but also those whom we dread and whom we fear. Christian virtues equip us for the arduous task of entering a dialogue with Putin’s Russia, with the view to seeking peace. Having negotiated with everyone from Stalin to the Vietcong, from Gaddafi to the Taliban, we hear today that the idea of negotiating with Putin’s Russia is naïve at best and misguided at worst. Yes, it is going to be fiendishly difficult. Yet, it is necessary. Equipped with intellectual virtues, nothing should stop us from trying. Neither should we stop trying to have conversations across the trenches, even those of the culture wars.   

Note: this post uses material from an earlier post by the same author.