Book Review: Gandhiji – My Hero: Neither a Politician, Nor A Saint by Buddhdev Pandya MBE

Finito World

There are books on Gandhi that place him within the vastness of history, as a Mahatma in the pantheon of human transcendence, the saintly figure whose non-violent resistance redefined moral courage. There are books that reduce him, flatten him into mere political strategy or ideological leverage, an emblem for one cause or another. And then there is Gandhiji – My Hero: Neither a Politician, Nor a Saint, a book that does neither. Buddhdev Pandya’s work—equal parts historical analysis, ideological intervention, and urgent political commentary—is both a celebration and an inquiry, forcing the reader to consider not just the past but the present in which Gandhi’s vision is actively contested.

This book is not, as one might first assume, a quiet hagiography. Pandya does not depict Gandhi as a man above history but as a man profoundly engaged in it. He reminds us that Gandhi was not simply a leader in the movement for Indian independence but an architect of moral resistance, a figure whose relevance extends into today’s deeply fractured world. Here, Gandhi is reframed: not as the unassailable sage but as a man in combat—not only with the British Raj but with the violent energies within Indian society itself.

A Battle of Ideologies: Then and Now

One of the most compelling aspects of Pandya’s work is its insistence that Gandhi’s battle is far from over. It places Gandhiji-My Hero in a lineage of books that wrestle with the present through the past—this is not just a book about what happened, but about what is happening. Pandya draws a chilling line between the racial purity doctrines of Nazi Germany and the current surge of right-wing supremacist movements within India, making explicit the ideological struggle that continues to define Indian politics.

The book meticulously details how the Hindutva movement—tracing back to the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) and the Hindu Mahasabha—borrowed from fascist playbooks to promote a vision of India that directly contradicts Gandhi’s inclusivity. Pandya makes no pretence of objectivity here—his prose carries the urgency of someone writing against a tide, warning that history is, once again, being shaped by forces that thrive on exclusion. The rise of Hindu Rashtra politics, he argues, is not merely a national crisis but a spiritual and moral regression—a direct affront to the Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam (the world is one family) ethos that Gandhi championed.

This is where Pandya’s work is most provocative. He is unafraid to name names, to call out the ideological descent into exclusivity, into religious and caste-based nationalism that Gandhi spent his life opposing. If Gandhi’s assassin, Nathuram Godse, saw him as an impediment to a Hindu nationalist state, Pandya suggests that modern India is still deciding whether it stands with Gandhi or Godse.

Gandhi Beyond Myth: The Man, The Tensions, The Sacrifice

Beyond its ideological discourse, the book’s greatest strength is in restoring Gandhi’s humanness—not as an unshakable idol, but as a man in constant negotiation with history and self. The book presents him as a figure deeply shaped by contradictions: a pacifist who led a revolution, a man of humility who commanded a mass movement, a religious ascetic who engaged with the material realities of colonial oppression.

Pandya recounts the internal tensions within the freedom movement, particularly between Gandhi and figures like Subhas Chandra Bose. The book is unsparing in its critique of Bose’s flirtations with Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan, underscoring the perilous ideological forks that Indian nationalism once faced—and faces again.

Likewise, the analysis of Gandhi’s conflicts with Ambedkar over caste is particularly nuanced. While Gandhi sought reform within Hinduism, Ambedkar demanded its dismantling. This book doesn’t pick sides but instead emphasizes that both figures, though adversaries in some ways, were indispensable to India’s social transformation.

The Urgency of Now

What makes Gandhiji – My Hero more than a historical reflection is its awareness that the questions Gandhi grappled with—nationalism versus pluralism, the ethics of resistance, the role of non-violence in a violent world—are still unresolved. The book serves as a warning: the forces of division and authoritarianism are always waiting, ready to exploit grievances and fears. Pandya argues that India today, with its ideological splits and its challenges to secularism, is engaged in the same existential battle that Gandhi faced in his final years.

The book calls upon younger generations—those unburdened by direct memory but shaped by inherited history—to engage with these struggles. In this sense, Pandya’s work does not just tell history; it activates it.

Final Thoughts

There are books that simply recount history, and then there are books that demand something of the reader. Gandhiji – My Hero is the latter. It is a battle cry against complacency, a demand that we recognize the ideological struggles at play in contemporary India, and a reminder that Gandhi’s assassination did not mark the end of his relevance—if anything, it marked the beginning of a new, ongoing conflict over his legacy.

Buddhdev Pandya does not allow us the luxury of nostalgia. He does not let us view Gandhi as an icon safely preserved in textbooks. Instead, he forces us to confront the real question: who, in today’s India, truly stands for Gandhi’s ideals? And, more urgently: what will we do about it?