Ayodhya: Learning from the past
There are lessons of unity and hope that we must fall back on when the Ayodhya verdict is given
The wait for the Ayodhya verdict is almost over. When old disputes are on the verge of being resolved, there is always the apprehension of untoward incidents taking place. The Ayodhya issue has opened many wounds, and such apprehensions are understandable. Now, in this situation, has the Indian psyche become mature enough to peacefully accept the country’s Supreme Court’s decision with respect? Here are examples to explain why we should not give up hope in a time like this.
The first example is from 1984. The antisikh violence had ended, and people were recovering from an assault on their faith. The curfew in Allahabad (now, Prayagraj) had been lifted, but panic and trauma had not abated. One afternoon during those sad days made a lasting impression on my mind.
I was going to my office at Leader Road, when I saw three Army vehicles parked at the side of a road. Near these vehicles were about a dozen uniformed Sikh officers and jawans with automatic weapons. They were staring fixedly at the shops across the road that had been plundered and burnt. I paused to try and read their expressions. Their eyes seemed to be burning with rage. What if they opened fire, I wondered. The road was bustling with people, what would happen? Nothing did happen. The reason? The training in the Army of faith in coexistence is deeply ingrained in their consciousness. This prevented them from acting on their sentiments. They simply would not give in to their feelings. After a while, they returned to their camp, and nothing untoward happened.
The months that followed were surprising. Riot victims recovered and began redecorating their shops. They gained strength from this tragedy, and were at the crossroads of a new life. Some people, among them those who had attacked them, were now embarrassed when they read lines these lines in newspapers: “Those who came from Pakistan to their own country after being plundered there, were looted again by their own people.”
This tragedy occurred not just in Allahabad but also in many cities of north India. The National Capital Region of Delhi was hit worst. About 3,000 people were killed across the country. Of these, 2,800 were killed in Delhi alone. Alas, many victims are still knocking on the doors of justice.
Here, the Sikh community should be lauded for its will and courage. Despite all the blows, they have never shied away from fulfilling their duty towards the nation.
After this tragedy, we saw the Babri Masjid being demolished in 1992. Riots erupted after that too, in which about 2,000 people were killed and property worth thousands of crores of rupees was destroyed. Communal tensions engulfed the nation. I lived in Agra back then.
Once, in a gathering, I overheard a reputed businessman saying that the business community had decided not to have any dealings with “them” or give “them” jobs. I felt terrible thinking about how cities have changed with time, but the mentality of violence towards the “other” still festers. I was apprehensive about whether this sort of sentiment would take root in every household, and if it did, what divisions this would throw up.
Thankfully, this did not happen. We Indians are deft at the unique skill of stumbling, falling, getting up and walking again. And once again, we started walking together. The year 1985 healed the wounds of 1984; this time, this responsibility was fulfilled by the initial months of 1993, but one question remained — Why has Ayodhya been turned into a symbol of conflict instead of faith?
Nine years ago, fear prevailed everywhere when the Allahabad High Court was about to pronounce its judgment. People did not send their children to schools, owners did not open their shops and many took leave from work. By then I had settled in Delhi.
That day, we reached the Hindustan Times office in New Delhi from Noida a little earlier than usual, because there were fewer people and traffic on the roads. A few hours after the verdict came, it seemed that all the apprehensions were unfounded. Not even a stone was thrown anywhere in the country. Who says that we Indians don’t learn from our mistakes?
This is perhaps the reason that when the countdown for the final verdict of the Supreme Court has begun, optimists are hopeful even amid some fears. These people believe that adherence to this decision will be true rashtra dharma.
Why don’t we also respect this wish that amid this conflict between hope, uncertainty and fear, it’s hope which will finally prevail?