The long shadow of Babri Masjid
Its demolition was like the original sin and it produced a brute majoritarianism that continues to spread poison
In a few days we will mark the 25th anniversary of Hindutva vandalism. The Babri Masjid, a noble medieval structure, was destroyed despite the solemn and hollow promises of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), which was campaigning to “shift” it. More than 2,000 Indians were killed in the violence following the demolition, as we punished Muslims for having the mosque pulled down. We continue to live with that violence. Much of the origins of modern terrorism in India, for example, the blasts in Mumbai that followed, we can attribute to the deliberate dividing of communities by the BJP and its colleagues of the Sangh Parivar.
L K Advani in his autobiography (a work riddled with errors as I learned while reviewing it) noted that no violence had taken place along the exact route of his rath yatra. This, he decided, was sufficient to exonerate himself from the charge of lighting the fuse. He did not diminish his culpability when he declared that December 6 was the saddest day of his life. Justice has not been delivered by India in the two and a half decades since the event. Successive actions by the Indian state, including some eccentric judgments by our courts, have ensured that we remain deadlocked both about punishing the criminals whose actions hurt India and about restoring the structure that was vandalised.
In my opinion one part of this has to do with the fear of consequences overpowering any considerations about the rule of law. I can cite an example, somewhat related. About 20 years ago, Bal Thackeray and I were convicted of contempt by the Nagpur bench of Bombay High Court in a case whose details are unimportant. I apologised and was pardoned: Thackeray refused and stood convicted and was given a sentence (I think it was a couple of days or so in jail).
He appealed and the Supreme Court, so far as I remember, did not adjudicate the appeal over all the years and he passed away before receiving justice. Thackeray’s defiance was of course accompanied by the threat of violence and it would have been useful for the state to show the citizen his place. But far too often our justice system kicks the can down the road.
Mr Advani and his cohorts are still – 25 years later – facing trial for a crime witnessed publicly by the world.
This reluctance of the state and its organs to act and do the right thing has opened up the space for the ambitious hustlers to insert themselves. One is Art of Living founder Ravi Shankar, sufficiently impressed by himself to claim the honorific “Sri Sri”. He has been quoted as saying: “I know some may not agree with this, but Muslims by and large are not opposing the temple.”
Is this a Hindu versus Muslim issue as he is making it out to be? I don’t think so. If it is, what is the place of those Hindus, like me, who don’t want any part of the spoils of vandalism? Do we have a say or are only the sadhus and godmen going to determine what the “Hindu” community wants in this instance?
Also, it is unfair to polarise and give Muslims the role of the antagonists and burden them with the responsibility of compromise. They are also fragmented in many ways, just as the “Hindus” are. The Uttar Pradesh Shia Central Waqf Board, which was caretaker to the Babri Masjid, a few weeks ago offered to give up its rights over the land in Ayodhya. What are we to make of this? It would be instructive to examine the backdrop.
The Twelver Shia are defined by their pragmatism. They are disengaged from politics and quiescent as they await the ending of the occultation of their Imam. (Ayatollah Khomeini brought revolution to this way of thinking in Iran where the Shia clergy took political charge). It would be strange to club them together with all the other sects as being representative of the “Muslim” opinion.
But the categories and divisions created by the Ram Janmabhoomi movement allow no granularity. It is noticeable that the media has also shifted towards the idea of a “compromise”. Compromise, of course, means that the crime be overlooked and the mosque be “shifted”. This is a different media than the one that reported the event with horror. India Today’s Gujarati edition had to be shut down because outraged subscribers fled after the magazine described the demolition with the cover headline “Shame”. Today, the media no longer has such clarity even though the longterm damage is most obvious.
For example: One loss suffered after the Babri vandalism and the one-sided violence that we allowed was that of the police khabri (informer). The underworld informer was necessarily someone on the periphery of crime, who would pass along material about the more serious offenders. This tradition, the Mumbai police accepts, has more or less been finished. The Muslim khabri sees the state and its police as out to get the Muslims and does not want to participate in its games. A state always weak in investigation has further ceded capacity in this way.
Whom and what should we blame for this? It is obvious but we don’t talk about it. The defence of the Ram Janmabhoomi movement, especially from the BJP, has been bordering on the illiterate and puerile. Its arguments are made mostly on the strength of emotion and, therefore, not easy to engage with.
But it is all quite clear. Those who will find the curiosity to read even the most basic available literature on this (for example the works of Krishna Jha and Dhirendra K Jha, and A G Noorani) will be aghast at what an injustice we have tolerated for all these years and continue to do so.
The demolition is like the original sin and we are unable to move on from its consequences. It has produced a brute majoritarianism that we have to live with, poisoning the atmosphere of India and sapping all of our energy.