Another Ayodhya – Mandir, Masjid and the anatomy of a dispute

“Where the hell is this place?”  I muttered to myself with irritation. This was the second time I had stopped to ask for directions.The answer was “No” again. These people too had not heard of the place. One man asked me to describe it. I told him that I was looking for the old mandir on the banks of the river. He said that there was nothing like that anywhere. I kept driving ahead in those narrow lanes with some trepidation.  The road was barely wide enough for my car.   If I encountered another car coming from the other way or something worse like a dead-end, I would have to reverse all the way back. That’s not an easy thing to do with an Innova. The day had been good. The family was in a good mood and we had covered a lot of destinations in the day. This mandir was to be the final stop before we headed back home. My sense of directions and reconnaissance done on Google maps in the previous nights told me that we were close. It would be frustrating to leave without checking this out, especially after spending this effort on search. I continued with stubborn determination.

I stopped again to ask for directions. This time I was lucky.  “Yes. You need to continue on this road and you will find it almost at the end of this road.” As I started trudging along, my wife commented “ It doesn’t seem to be a popular place. Nobody seems to be going along this road except us”. I too had noticed it. But then, after a couple of minutes we were finally there. We reached a fenced enclosure approximately 100 feet wide with bit of undergrowth and one tree. I could also see the huge carved pillars and some other structures within. It looked like site of a demolition with big stones lying all around the place. There was a familiar blue board from ASI identifying it as a structure of historical importance. But, it was an anticlimax. There was simply nothing like a temple out there. I could not see any river too. The place was surrounded on all sides by houses. We had some curious stares from within those houses. It didn’t seem like a lot of people visited this place. A thick smell of dung filled the air. We had started the day with a visit to the magnificent sun temple at Modhera. This certainly was not what we were prepared to see.

There was simply no regular way to get in.  I went around and jumped in though an opening. Then I noticed four people inside. Couple of them looked like cops in their half-undressed Khaki uniforms. One of them carried a rifle. Others were probably ASI employees. They were resting on charpoys. There was a stove lying around and dirty tea cups all around. When they noticed our arrival, it was evident that we were not welcome. A man came up to me and said “You can’t come in. It’s not allowed.” “I just want to look around. We are tourists” I replied. He took a long look at me and then at my wife still sitting in the car. “Where are you from?” he questioned. “Bangalore, Karnataka” I said hopefully.

“Which department do you work for?”

That was an odd question. But, I didn’t give it a thought. I explained the nature of my work in four simple words “I work in IT.” That seemed to do the trick. He smiled.

“Okay, Sir. Come in and look. But, strictly no photography.”

I nodded and kept my camera on the charpoy. I gestured to my wife to follow me.  Looking up, I saw a magnificent Torana rising nearly 20 feet into the air around 60 feet ahead of me.  That alone seemed worth the effort we had put in reaching here. As I scanned around, I could see the suddenly see the remnants of a large mandir complex. There was even a Shiva Linga in a small mini shrine. There were huge stones, carvings and pieces of pillars lying all around the place.  My wife was now inside too.  It didn’t take more than ten minutes to scan the entire complex. As my wife loitered around, I came back to chat with the men. They were distinctly friendly now. I started talking with the ASI man.

“What’s the deal with so much security?”

“Oh! You don’t know the story here. This is a sensitive place. This whole place where we are sitting was the Jami Masjid where around 150 people would pray on every Friday. Then, one day, the masjid wall fell down due to a heavy downpour. It revealed all the mandir structures ,Shiv linga and  the nandi contained within its walls.  The management of the masjid simply wanted to brick it up again. As the news spread, the Hindus woke up suddenly and claimed the mandir. It was always known that an ancient mandir stood at this spot. But the entire locality surrounding this place is Muslim. ”

“The town burned for 15 days in riots. The matter went to courts. Prayers had to be stopped on both sides and entry became restricted to avoid further escalation. That’s why we are here with cops. To prevent any problems! “

I changed the topic to the ASI person’s family and career. My wife was bowing in front of the Shiva Linga. I noticed a few flowers, Kumkum and agarbattis lying around the shrine.

“I was part of the dig at Dholavira. I have worked under many big officers. The officer in charge of this mandir was a south Indian Brahmana .He was also from your state I think. It was because of his efforts that the rest of the mandir complex was unearthed. When the department started digging in the courtyard, we discovered the remains of the mandir there too.  If not for him, the government would have hushed up the whole thing.”

I queried “Didn’t the Muslims praying here and the elders managing the masjid never notice the idols and pillars with the walls. Were they aware of it at all?”

“Of course, they knew it. It must’ve been in their plain sight every time they came in here. But, so what ? How many masjids have been constructed over mandirs?  The government offered an alternative location for constructing the masjid. But they refused. The matter is still in the court. Till it gets resolved, we remain here. ASI wanted to acquire all the remaining houses around here for the excavation. There is literally an architectural treasure here waiting to be discovered. But the people are not willing to cooperate and government is afraid. If not for our old sahib, even all of this would still be under the earth.”

I gently broached the topic “Can I take a few quick snaps? Only if you don’t mind.”

He said “I am allowing it only because you are a government officer. But be discreet. People may be watching us.”

I wondered how I had suddenly become a government officer. Meanwhile, my wife came over and joined the conversation. Another man courteously offered a glass of water to her. I took my camera out and quickly took pictures of the Toranas and the other tall structure that looked like a Mantapa with massive pillars. My wife was telling the ASI man that we had visited Modhera earlier. He was now explaining that both of these temples were built by the same dynasty, the Solankis.

              

“Who destroyed this temple and built the masjid?” She asked.

“Some people say it was the Mahmud of Ghazni. Others say it was Ahmed Shah. Who knows?” he trailed off.

“Who is doing the pooja to the Shivji at that little shrine over there?” I asked.

“I do that. Nothing fancy about it. I light a lamp and offer some flowers. The government doesn’t care. But, the Bhagwanji has manifested his presence here again after centuries. It’s our dharma to do this much at least.”

As I took a last look at the Toranas and their intricately carved pillars, I could imagine the magnificent structure that must have stretched all the way to banks of river Saraswati flowing 300 feet away just beyond the houses. I thanked them and prepared to leave.

He suddenly turned back and asked “How long have you been working in Income tax?”

I almost laughed “No. I don’t work for income tax department. I work in an IT company. We work on computers.” He nodded and walked away. I took one look at the remaining part of whitewashed wall of the masjid. It seemed to have been broken apart by the remains of temple within in an explosive jailbreak attempt.

As I drove back to the highway, my mind was raging against the injustice of it all. The invader’s sword had shattered this temple and our ‘secular’ polity still wants to wish away the inconvenient truth. Yet, the spirit of Dharma reveals itself in flash like that fateful downpour that washed away the wall. Just before reaching the highway, I parked near a small store. I needed to buy some water. I told the shop keeper that I had just been to see Rudra Mahalaya. I asked him what he thought about it. He said “Every masjid here sits on top of a temple. It’s the same whether it Ayodhya, Kashi or Mathura. Even the Bhadra Masjid in Amdavad was a temple once.  But, what can be achieved by driving the people away from their homes in which they have lived for generations.  Where will they go? We all know that there is the mandir remains under their houses. The masjid is no longer there. That is enough. Let them live in peace.”

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Sidhpur is a city in Patan district of Gujarat. The Saraswati River (namesake of the mythical lost river) flows through the town. Siddhiraja Jayasimha, the Solanki ruler built this city. He also built a magnicificent temple for Shiva on the banks of River Saraswati – the Rudra Mahalaya. The Solankis also built the stunning Surya mandir complex at Modhera. The city is very close to Patan which used to be the capital of Solankis. Sidhpur is also known as Matru-Gaya. It is considered the holiest spot for Hindus to perform their mother’s shraddha.  It is also famous for it elegant Dawoodi Bohra havelis.

Rudra Mahalaya was a complex of 11 shrines dedicated to ekadasha Rudras. Originally it covered an area of 100 x 66 mtrs. The central building itself occupied an area of about 50 x 33 mtrs. The mighty pillars of this temple are the tallest so far known in Gujarat. The temple was attacked by Allauddin Khilji’s  armies just like the sun temple at Modhera.  But, it was Ahmed Shah (Ahmedabad is named by him) who destroyed it completely and built the Jami masjid in its place using its western sections. For a very comprehensive and authentic version of the Sidhpur dispute, please click here. 

http://www.voiceofdharma.org/books/htemples2/ch1.htm

Time to dig in for Israel

“We’re preparing for war, and it’s hard to know what to expect. What I’m positive of is that there will be a next round and others after that. But I would rather opt for living here in continual battle than for becoming part of the wandering Jewish people. Any compromise will simply hasten the end. As I don’t intend to tell my grandchildren about the Jewish State in the twentieth century as a mere brief and transient episode in thousands of years of wandering, I intend to hold on here with all my might.”

Yoni, a young Israeli army officer wrote these words in a letter to his brother Bibi in the wake of the Yom Kippur war. Yoni Netanyahu didn’t live to see his grandchildren. He died soon after in the celebrated Entebbe raid. But his brother has survived to have two grandchildren and much more. Benjamin “Bibi” Netanyahu is now the prime minister of Israel.

Like Bibi, Israel has endured, survived and thrived in the years after the Yom Kippur war. It concluded a peace treaty with Egypt, its most formidable neighbour that has held to this date. Syria hasn’t given up on Golan Heights but it has never dared to take on Israel directly again. Saddam Hussein lobbed a few useless Scuds during the Gulf war but eventually scripted his own fall from power. Israel has not been able to prevent constant attacks of terrorism and guerrilla warfare. But, it has faced no imminent threat to existence in the years after early 70s.

But, Yoni’s words are regaining ominous significance once again. The established order in the Middle-east and Arabized North Africa has literally fallen apart. The old dictators of Maghreb are all gone almost overnight. Turmoil has started all around Israel. Egypt succumbed to the Arab Spring. Syria is sure to follow next. Jordan has seen serious rumblings.  Most surprising change of all, we now have a new kid on the block- an Islamic oriented Turkey.

The new Pharaoh

When I discuss the possibility of Egypt getting involved in another war with friends from Egypt, many protest vehemently. As one person put it, Egypt has spent too much blood and treasure trying to fight other people’s wars. Islamic and Greater-Arab causes no longer excite the Egyptians. He further insisted that even if a future government were foolhardy enough to risk such conflict, the military would be reluctant to follow such orders. But, all this was before the Muslim brotherhood won power riding on the public sentiment that swept Mubarak and his loyalists out of power.

President Morsi has turned out to be a cunning player. He has adroitly managed to defang  his political opponents as well as put the military in its place. The Brotherhood was long suspected to have sympathizers within the military. It will be no surprise if the present leadership is eventually replaced with more ideologically oriented officers. It is to be noted that Egypt has been moving military elements into Sinai since last year. Egyptian President has taken the lead in negotiating the truce between Hamas and Israel this time. Israel can hardly protest if the demilitarization clause melts away in a creeping fashion with a few hundred troops and equipment each time. If the Egypt-Gaza border is relaxed, it can turn out to be a nightmare for Israel. Because of its small size, Israel will always remain vulnerable with respect to its immediate western neighbor  The new Pharaoh has already promulgated an overtly Islamic constitution. Increased tensions with Israel can also be a handy weapon to neutralize political opponents at home. The Egyptian populace might not have the stomach for confrontation right now. But, that is the product of past defeats and a shattered economy. As things change, the old hostility is probably going to return.

The Ottoman Return

Turkey has undergone the most astonishing transformation in the past few years. This was once a country that hoped to detach itself from Asia and become completely European. It is a member of NATO and was trying desperately in the previous years to get into EU. With its growing economic strength and the unraveling of EU, the direction is now being reversed. The country is now under a firmly Islamist and highly popular prime minister Erdogan. His foreign policy is increasingly reshaping Turkey as a Middle-Eastern power. Once regarded as a close ally of Israel, its recent interventions have been decidedly hostile.

The Syrian crisis on it southern border will inevitably make Turkey a participant in Arab affairs and logically the influence will extend to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as well. It needs to be remembered that most of Middle-East including the lands that comprises the present-day Palestine and Israel were part of the Ottoman Turk Empire not so long ago. It was only 100 years ago that the Ottoman Empire crumbled in the aftermath of the 1^st world war. Increasingly, Turkey will be a major player in the Middle-east with decidedly Islamist out look.

The Rise of the Brothers

The Arab Spring has really been a springboard to power for one organization. The Muslim Brotherhood has already captured power in Egypt. It is poised to do the same in Syria and probably in Jordan. It is probably the most organized political entity that is spread across the Arab world. The scariest situation for any Israeli analyst is to have the Brothers ruling simultaneously in Syria, Jordan and Egypt. That is almost its entire immediate neighborhood.

The Jordanian King and the ruling elite are playing a dangerous game. They have been suspected of deliberately allowing periodic protests in the country to portray the possibility of an imminent Islamist takeover. This was a kind of show-preview that has served to blackmail the west into giving them more money. But, there is always a chance that these attempts might backfire and result in uncontrolled reactions that end up toppling the regime. Almost half of Jordanian population is of Palestinian origin and it is thirsting for a share of power. None of this is good news for Israel.

The Old Empires & Competitive Anti-Israel-ism

The rise of oil-economy based Arab states has altered the traditional balance of power in the middle-east in the last 4 decades. Middle-east has always been a battleground for contesting empires based out of their respective heartlands on the three sides.  The Nile Basin in Egypt, Anatolia and Persia-Mesopotamia have been the centers of empires that spanned out and controlled the region for centuries. The ancient Egyptians, the Byzantines, the Sassanids, the Abbasids and the Ottomans were all instances of this historical reality.

The nuclear ambitions of Iran must be seen in this light. Even Turkey is bound to follow suit if it existing arrangement within NATO becomes irrelevant. These states are going to develop large militaries in order to project power throughout the region. Unfortunately, the Jewish identity of Israel will make it unable to exploit differences between these powers and act as a swing power.

The future of the middle-east may indeed look like an action replay of history. Egypt, Iran and Turkey are going to compete with each other to gain the upper hand and regional leadership. These are countries with historical memories of past empires and populations well beyond the critical size needed for such an enterprise.  However, in order to decisively secure their leadership, they need to capture the Arab imagination. Is there an easier way to achieve it than championing of Palestinian cause against the Jewish state? Iran has stolen a head-start over all others by actively patronizing both Hezbollah and Hamas. Despite its Sunni composition, most of the missiles that Hamas used in its latest round of attacks were of Iranian origin. There is no doubt that this is definitely creating an impact in Arab minds. Egypt will always be in reckoning since it’s an immediate neighbour of the Gaza strip. Turkey’s recent attempts have not met with much success, but that is only a temporary setback. There will competition among these states to assume increasingly hostile positions to Israel. That would be formidable opposition for Israel to face in diplomacy as well as on the ground.

Reluctant players with deep pockets

The Gulf Arab States, especially Saudi Arabia might not appreciate the interference in Arab affairs by non-Arabs such as Turks and Iranians. Saudis in particular are paranoid about Iran gaining region supremacy. Hence, they will be unwillingly sucked into this game. They will choose to throw in their lot with fellow Arab state like Egypt or provide their own direct aid to outfits like Hamas. However, none of them will be serious contenders for championing the Palestinian cause. All of these regimes are jittery themselves and are facing serious internal problems. None of them harbour any dreams of regional hegemony. The ruling Sheikhs just hope to prolong their enjoyment of the oil resources into the foreseeable future. But, if these regimes were to fall, hardcore Islamists may take control bringing vast financial resources into play. That would definitely embolden Egypt that may otherwise balk at the financial costs of a confrontation.

The coming betrayal of the west

Mainland Europe is increasingly buying into liberal-islamist propaganda. Many of them seem to think that they can buy peace with their restive Muslim citizens by sacrificing Israel. It’s just a matter of time before Europe abandons Israel totally. France, Spain, Norway, Denmark and Switzerland recently backed the UN resolution on recognition of Palestine.  The United States still remains a strong supporter of Israel. However, the re-election of President Obama is not a very encouraging sign. Given the present demographic trends within US, it is not likely to remain such a staunch ally in the coming decades. While it is not likely to be hostile to Israel, US will be increasingly indifferent. With the looming energy independence from the Middle-east, there is a likelihood of reduced engagement by US in this region. An unipolar world with US at its helm suited Israel very well. But the rise of China and its yet undefined course of action in this region of the world are not so inviting.

Illusion of Iron Dome

Israel has always believed in striking first and striking hard. Its military doctrine has always been to prevent its opponents from gaining access to military assets that would provide them with a decisive advantage. Its raid on the Iraqi nuclear facilities in 1981 is a classic example. However, it is nearly impossible to repeat that strategy against Iran. Even the US with its formidable resources would hesitate to take on such risks. Cheap missiles have made it easy for less sophisticated states to carry out asymmetrical warfare.  Israel has chosen to invest in missile defences. But, the Iron Dome system despite its impressive performance has exposed its weaknesses as well. If Hamas had the backing of any neighboring state and far larger arsenal of missiles, it would have caused considerable damage. No missile defence could have prevented that. There cannot be a credible defence for a nation of Israel’s size against a sustained barrage of missiles without launching any offensive action.

Israel has never had it easy. But even by its history, tough times are ahead for this tiny Jewish nation. The coming decade is going to test Israel once again perhaps as much as the days of its founding and that Yom Kippur four decades ago.

The non-refugees

I lived in Delhi a few years back. To tell you the truth, I actually lived in its glitzy neighboring suburb just across the border in Jatland. Contrary to what I initially expected, I loved Delhi. To me, every inch in that city is a reminder of our hoary past. You can find something everywhere to remind you of those golden ages, those predators sweeping down from Khyber and the trajectory of India’s destiny across the centuries.

But, I hated the people (at least many of them). In my very first visit to the city nearly a decade earlier, I had found a well dressed Punjabi gentleman talking loudly into a toy cell-phone!  He was showing off! That epitomized Delhi for me. The city seemed to be full of name-dropping, back-slapping, loudmouthed Punjus who were ready to elbow out anyone in their way with practiced ease. But with time, I got to know these people better. Almost all of their family histories started from a single defining event – The Partition of India. To them, Rawalpindi, Multan and Peshawar were not just points on a map. To their nostalgic elders, it represented their childhood homes and long-lost part of their lives.  I could then understand why a poorly scripted hyperbolic movie like Gadar became such a big hit in these parts.  In fact, the former ‘refugee’ colonies of Delhi together form a giant living monument to the tragedy of partition.

As a south-Indian, I cannot even imagine being cutoff and uprooted from the land of my birth by such a cruel turn of fate. Therefore, partition has always been a fascinating subject to me. I have eagerly listened to many stories from those uprooted families.  I have devoured everything I could find to read on this matter. Most stories spoke of loss – homes, property, businesses and friends. Others were more poignant stories of divided families, near and dear ones lost to violence.  I could then understand the Delhi Punjabi a little better. His seemingly single minded focus on material wealth is born out of a great struggle for generations to rise out of “refugee” status. This has been accomplished by sheer strength of willpower and hard work.

The obsession for oral histories on partition has stayed with me even after I moved out of Delhi. When we moved into Amdavad, the elderly couple in the flat upstairs turned out to be “refugees” as well. The elderly gentleman actually had spent his entire childhood in Quetta, Baluchistan. However, I had always wondered whether these people indeed took the right decision in abandoning everything they had for an indeterminate life in refugee camps. Some of them had indeed escaped the direct impact of violence. Could they have perhaps stayed back? Had they stayed back in sufficient strength, would they have been OK?

In the recent years, the winds of my professional career have taken me extensively into the middle-east. This has provided me an opportunity to interact with ordinary people and professionals from across the border in various circumstances of life.  Most of them are decent hardworking chaps who are trying to earn a living just like us. But, the overall history of Pakistan leaves no doubt about its anti-Hindu attitude in particular and hostility to non- Muslims in general. However, many apologists advance the argument that this is a post-Zia phenomenon. They speak of a liberal Pakistan in its early days. So, the question remained.  Would Hindus have fared well in Pakistan if they had stayed behind after partition? Unfortunately, history does not allow experiments. We can only rely on facts.

Recently,I met this senior gentleman at our office in relation to a business deal. He was introduced to me by a colleague.  When I walked into the meeting, I found myself face to face with a bespectacled man in his late sixties. His steady bearing and measured tone impressed me. I could make out that here was somebody who was very satisfied in life after achieving quite a lot. As a successful entrepreneur, he has run several global businesses. Needless to say, he has also made a lot of money. As usual, the conversation eventually shifted to the personal details.

“Where are you from?”  I asked.

He replied “I am from Bombay. But, my family is originally from Rawalpindi in Pakistan.”

“Oh! I see, I guess your family had to move after partition.” I offered knowingly.

“Actually, No.” he asserted. Looking at the question in my eyes, he continued “We continued to stay in Pakistan after the partition and it caused a lot of problems to us.”

This was certainly the first time I had heard something like this. It was certainly unusual. So, I pressed him to tell me more. A fascinating story came out over multiple cups of tea. I share this very personal tale of tragedy and triumph.

“My family used to run a chain of book stores all over North West India. We were originally  Sindhi Hindus but settled in Punjab. The bookstore was named after a famous city. British officers, government servants and the growing numbers of the elite educated Indian class were our primary clientele. It was a well known brand and the business was good. We rubbed shoulders with the elite of Punjab and Sindh. In fact, my father set up the personal library of a future ruler of Pakistan; the man who was later hanged.”

“After the partition, my uncles and my father continued to manage the bookshop in Rawalpindi. In those days, both India and Pakistan used to issue a special passport called Indo-Pak Passport to enable travel between countries. My father and our family were holding these documents. We were in Pakistan on visas that were renewed every year.”

“Did your father not try to get Pakistani nationality?” I interrupted.

“He definitely tried. But, things changed drastically in Pakistan in the very early days. Even his friends in high places could not help him. My uncles and cousins sensed the changing winds. All of them converted and became Muslims overnight. Amar became Ahmed. Dilip became Dilawar. My father stubbornly held out against this. Why the hell should we change our religion? That was his line of thinking. Did my uncles secretly work against the grant of nationality to him ? Who knows? Greed for property does strange things to one’s own blood and flesh.”

“How was it like growing up and living in those days in Rawalpindi?” I queried.

“Even as a kid, I could clearly sense what my father perhaps could not. There was growing intolerance all around. Those friends of my father whom he regularly entertained in our home turned out to be CID informers. Our house was not far away from the military academy. Once, a few of my father’s so-called friends were caught digging up our front-yard in search of hidden arms!  We were Hindus! Therefore we were enemies. I pointed this out to my father many times but he would not accept.”

“So, when and why did you move to India?”

“The breaking point came rather suddenly. I was studying in the Mission School in Rawalpindi. One of my class mates was the son of a senior army officer who later rose to a high political position too. He used to come to class sometimes with a revolver dangling around his waist and a belt loaded with bullets. One day, during the history class discussing Indo-Pak relations, he proclaimed to everybody that there was a Kafir in the class. The very next moment, he held the revolver to my head and pulled the trigger. There were no bullets probably. But, I didn’t know that. I was a twelve year old kid who was scared and shocked beyond words. I was wailing inconsolably and pissing in my pants. The ‘Father’ and other teachers came running to my class. They called my mother and advised her to take me out of the school. They could do nothing to the bully and could not protect me. My mother immediately put me on the way to Bombay. However, she stayed behind in Pindi with my father and my younger brother.”

“So, what happened to your family later? There was a war in sixty-five. Isn’t it? ”

“That’s another sad story. I finished college in Bombay in super quick time. My mother put some money in my hand during a visit to Bombay. She had managed to get me a ticket and visa to UK before she bid me farewell. I was soon struggling in England to make my mark in the world.  When, the war started, all communication with my family was cut off. I contacted both Indian and Pakistani embassies but it was to no avail. After six months, I received a letter from my family with huge relief.”

“They had arrived in Bombay on a Red-Cross ship. The authorities in Pakistan had arrested and interned my family along with other Indians. They were treated miserably and frequently threatened with execution. Finally, they were put on the ship to Bombay with just clothes on their back. Before  they left, they were forced to sign declarations accepting that they were spies. But thankfully, they survived to tell the tale.”

As the conversation continued, he told me of his subsequent struggle and his later career. I sat quietly digesting his incredible story and mulling over my thoughts. Did those millions who moved to India in those long caravans somehow know their coming fate instinctively? It was not the land they were attached to but to a civilization.  We cannot but agree that they made the right choice.

** I have deliberately avoided names and identities to protect the privacy of people concerned. However, the main narrative is faithfully recounted as I have heard it