The Threat of Literalism: Abrahamic Prophecy and the Global War Against Reason 

Every century, a new empire arises claiming to be the custodian of truth. Yet behind the banners and anthems, behind the polished speeches and polished weapons, hides the same disease — the worship of literalism. Literalism is not faith; it is the petrification of faith. It is the belief that truth was spoken once and for all, never to be questioned again. It is the theology of paralysis. From it were born the three Abrahamic children — Judaism, Christianity, and Islam — each convinced that God spoke to them alone, each promising salvation only after the destruction of the world. Their prophets differed in language, not in logic. Their scriptures contradicted each other, but their conclusion was the same: the end of the world is holy.

The Jew waits for the Messiah, the Christian for the Second Coming, the Muslim for the Mahdi. Their followers pray not for peace but for apocalypse. In their imagination, the planet must burn so that paradise may be built upon its ashes. Every act of violence becomes prophecy fulfilled, every death a down payment on eternity. This obsession with the end has turned revelation into revenge. They cannot imagine a world that continues; they can only dream of one that collapses. And now, armed with science they did not invent and technology they did not understand, they have the means to make their nightmares real.

The fanatic with a holy book is dangerous; the fanatic with a nuclear arsenal is extinction made plausible. It is not a coincidence that the nations most addicted to theology are also the ones most obsessed with apocalypse. They build weapons with one hand and scriptures with the other. They call it defense; in truth it is devotion to death. Their priests preach submission, their generals practice it. They do not seek coexistence; they seek conclusion. To them, compromise is betrayal of God. Dialogue is blasphemy. Humanity itself is an obstacle to divine plan.

India cannot pretend that this madness does not concern her. It already surrounds her borders. Pakistan was created as a theocracy that could not tolerate plurality; Bangladesh repeats its slogans in subtler accents; the Middle East funds its fantasies through oil and ignorance. Across the oceans, the American evangelist prays for Armageddon, while his president prays for oil. Between the mosque and the megachurch, the earth suffocates. The only antidote to this theological suicide is the discipline of reason — and India, as the oldest civilization of reason, must lead the cure.

Dharma offers an answer where revelation offers a command. It does not say “believe”; it says “understand.” It does not promise paradise; it teaches balance. It does not threaten unbelievers with hell; it reminds everyone of consequence. Karma replaces punishment with causality. Dharma replaces obedience with order. They are the moral algorithms of the universe, accessible to every rational being. They make morality mathematical and justice universal. The cosmos does not need our belief; it demands our balance. The literalist fears freedom because freedom exposes falsity. The Dharmic mind welcomes it because freedom is the proof of truth.

But balance without power is poetry without protection. The United Dharmic Alliance must therefore act as the firewall of civilization. India, Russia, China, Japan, both Koreas, Nepal, Sri Lanka, Thailand, Vietnam, Cambodia, Myanmar, and Mongolia must unite as the majority of humanity’s reason. These nations share one virtue absent in the theocratic world: they do not seek to convert others. They build, they trade, they learn. They may quarrel, but they never crusade. Their empires have risen and fallen without exterminating cultures. They understand continuity; the West understands conquest. The Dharmic alliance must stand for coexistence as power, not as plea.

This coalition will not march under a single god or flag. It will march under a single idea — that civilization has a right to survive its religions. It will defend pluralism with precision, not propaganda. It will establish institutions of inquiry instead of agencies of indoctrination. It will invest in education instead of evangelism. It will build the weapons of peace: satellites, laboratories, universities, hospitals, and ideas. Its soldiers will be scientists, its generals philosophers, its flag reason itself.

To balance the fanaticism of faith, we must create the devotion of logic. Dialectical Materialism will be our ontology — the understanding that all existence evolves through struggle and synthesis. Conflict is not chaos; it is the grammar of growth. Logical Empiricism will be our epistemology — the discipline that keeps imagination loyal to evidence. Dharma will be our ethics — the compass that keeps both science and society humane. These three together will be the philosophical trident of survival.

Meanwhile, the West continues its adolescence. American foreign policy is like the love of a teenage girl — passionate today, gone tomorrow, always waiting for the next boyfriend with a better sports car. Yesterday she adored Pakistan to contain Communism; today she flirts with India to contain China; tomorrow she will run away with China to contain India. Her affections change with fashion; her morality with markets. To rely on such volatility is to confuse diplomacy with dating. A civilization that has endured ten thousand years cannot anchor its destiny to a partner so impulsive. America’s love affairs are geopolitical seasons; each ends when someone wealthier drives by. India must learn that a civilization cannot rent its dignity to such a fickle companion. America’s strength is invention, not intention; its loyalty is profit, not principle. We must cooperate where interests align but never confuse admiration with alliance.

Our destiny lies not westward but eastward — in the moral and intellectual federation of civilizations that have outgrown adolescence. Russia’s endurance, China’s discipline, Japan’s precision, Korea’s resilience, Southeast Asia’s serenity — these are not cultural differences; they are facets of a single civilizational diamond. The world does not need another crusade; it needs coordination. It does not need commandments; it needs comprehension.

The greatest danger today is not that the world will end by accident, but that it will end by intention — by people who believe that destruction is divine. We must deny them that satisfaction. We must build an order in which reason becomes holy, where inquiry becomes worship, where compassion becomes the only commandment. The Hindu must no longer whisper his wisdom; he must weaponize it with organization. The Buddhist must turn his serenity into strategy. The Confucian must turn his ethics into structure. The Russian must turn his endurance into partnership. The world cannot afford another century of theology.

If the Dharmic world rises, the apocalypse will lose its audience. Humanity will cease to be the hostage of heaven. And perhaps for the first time in history, civilization will no longer dream of endings but of endurance. The gods may watch, but reason will govern.