The self-declared defender of ancient values (by which he mostly means Brahminical culture) is himself somewhat unsure of himself. If he were not, he would dress and talk like his forebears. But even he knows nobody is going to buy that shit, not even his crowd of culture warrior followers. So he dresses in suits and speaks English and uses testimonials from Western scholars to validate his point.
Even he knows that that is the only way he can be seen as respectable and acceptable. He knows that if he shaved his head and acquired the bare-bodied likeness of the ancient ‘intellectuals’ he so admires, he’ll get laughed out of civilised company. Thus, even when he wants to talk about his precious ‘ancient culture’, he has to tragically acquiesce to the needs of the times he lives in.
Upon digging deep enough, it becomes abundantly clear that what he is really looking to do is not bring back whatever the fuck he says he wants to bring back. His true motivations are somewhat more self-centered. They have to do with taking on the appearance of a scholar and looking like someone who deserves to be listened to. And since nobody wants to listen to someone who looks like his plump and pompous heroes anymore, this opportunistic defender of ancient values has wisely decided to look as much like his former oppressors as possible.
To be honest, his task is an uphill one. He lives in a world where, if someone asked him to point at one thing his ancestors created, he will have to look hard. Such things exist, but they do not form the bedrock of modern everyday life.
Our hero knows that it is no longer sufficient to say “follow the old ways because my forefathers said so”. He knows nobody (especially those who suffered as a result of the policies created by his forefathers) cares about his forefathers anymore. So he goes about it in a roundabout way and tries to get Western approval for his ideas.
And even when his reprehensible notions fall squarely outside the acceptability range of the Western scholarship he fawns over, he uses his proximity to them as a launch pad for his advocacy of ancient bigotry. He implies that just because he went to a foreign University, just because he is capable of stringing together sentences in English, just because he can parrot some of the jargon he heard there, nothing that comes out of his mouth can be treated like the manure that it is. Instead, it must be treated with the kind of respect people once reserved for his ancestors.
Because his ancestors lost the respect of the people in his homeland, the young culture warrior of today is busy looking for it beyond the seven seas that his ancestors told him never to cross. He was hoping we wouldn’t notice. But we did. Because manure stays manure, no matter the century in which someone tries to serve it as a gourmet meal. No matter the garnish.