Sanitizing
Temple Destruction by Islam
Meenakshi Jain
Sulekha Columns
Politics may or may not be the art of the possible,
but historical writing on the Muslim community in India is certainly fast
approaching that exalted state. It is truly extraordinary that as echoes of jihad
reverberate through the sub-continent, western and Marxist scholarship should
be desperately segregating present battles from past contests and in the
process, willfully exonerating Muslims of acts of commission traditionally laid
at their door. The sanitization of Islam's public profile is all the more
intriguing given the west's own growing preoccupation with problems of
fundamentalism and terrorism.
Be that as it may, there is a continuing thread
between India's historic experience and contemporary predicament, which we can
ignore only at our peril. At the heart of the matter is the long drawn-out
unresolved and stalemated civilizational struggle, which refuses to blow away,
and in fact demands final resolution. This is not simply a clichéd clash
between Islamic monotheism and Hindu polytheism as is made out in standard
accounts on the subject. The issue is far more visceral, which explains both
its extended duration and bearing on mankind.
Scholars of religion would see merit in the
proposition that India is the last refuge of a once universal spiritual
tradition that has everywhere been replaced by Semitism of varying varieties.
Given that Islam is the extreme form of Semitism and India the greatest
expression of 'paganism', the formula of accommodation can logically have no
appeal for the former. This remains the painful reality, however well historians
may camouflage it.
The intolerance of idolatry was first exhibited in
Arabia and by the Prophet Mohammad, who had never set eyes on India. That was
the inexorable logic of the religious movement he had set in motion. (Muslims,
like many others, confused the Hindu practice of image worship with idolatry.
Hindus were never idolators. The image was always perceived as a means of
focusing on the Almighty, it was never equated with the Almighty. Elaborate
rules governed the consecration of a statue into an image of worship, and its
disposal in case of damage).
Since the issue of temple destruction has acquired a
fresh leash of life in the wake of the Babri Masjid – Ram Janmabhoomi
controversy, it is understandable that academics should have directed their considerable
talents to clearing up this particularly messy bit of the past. It is not
possible here to take note of the rich literature generated on this vexatious
issue. A reference to Richard Eaton's essay on 'Temple Desecration and
Indo-Muslim States', published in his book, Essays on Islam and Indian
History, (OUP 2000), would suffice to highlight the main theses of this
genre of historical writing.
The preliminary argument expounded holds faulty use
of Persian chronicles and treatises responsible for the unflattering depiction
of Muslims down the ages. British administrator-scholars, so the story goes,
consciously produced inaccurate translations of Persian texts in a bid to
contrast their beneficent rule with that of their bigoted and intolerant predecessors.
The historical truth, present-day apologists of Muslims argue, is that Persian
chroniclers of medieval times widely exaggerated and sometimes even invented,
the temple-demolition sprees of their patrons.
But surely this raises more questions than it solves.
One does not need to be communally-minded to infer that desecration of Hindu
holy sites was held to be meritorious activity in the entire Muslim world,
which is why the writers in question felt the need to glorify such acts,
whether they actually took place or not. Certainly, even the most pro-Muslim
historian would be hard put to name a single medieval writer of whatever
stature, who disapproved of such vandalism or regarded it as un-Islamic.
Further, the fact of a level of destruction is not contested by any scholar,
though there is debate on its possible motives.
Pertinent in this context is the Muslim community's
perception of the manner of its spread in the sub-continent, and the pivotal
role played by temple destruction in the 'remembered past' of the Muslim state
and people. Local legends invariably eulogize a small band of the faithful who
arrive as torch-bearers of the faith in the hostile terrain and face the
resistance of the infidel populace. The ensuing bitter struggle climaxes in the
take-over of the area temple by the army of Mohammad, its transformation into a
mosque, and the conversion of the principal pagan leaders to Islam. The mosque
thereafter serves as the disseminator of Islam in that region, in course of
time contributing to the establishment of a sizeable Muslim population in the
environs. However modern historians may interpret such narratives, they are
indicative of the Muslim community's preferred account of its expansion.
The ingenuity of modern scholarship is most severely
put to test in the case of Mahmud Ghazni. Even in the Muslim world, it is
difficult to rival his record in temple destruction, he belonging to a breed
apart. Yet we are asked to believe that these were 'secular exploits,' waged
with a view to financing political ambitions in Khurasan. His plunder of
Iranian cities is cited in defence of this argument. But, skeptics may well
ask, did he also attack Muslim sacred architecture in erstwhile Persia?
Further, what fraction of the wealth of India was actually concentrated in
temples, and what proportion did it constitute of Mahmud's total haul from this
country? Did the indemnity and spoils of war from Indian princes not far exceed
the loot from temples? If wealth to pursue an expansionist programme were all
that was needed, would not the booty obtained from Hindu rajas have sufficed?
Since temple destruction did not cease with Mahmud
Ghazni, this is obviously not a wholly viable interpretation of events. Indeed,
every single Muslim ruler after him till Aurangzeb indulged in this past time,
with similar or lesser frequency. So, modern scholarship defines temple
destruction in this era as a purely political activity intended to
'de-legitimize and extirpate' defeated Hindu ruling houses. Scholars like Eaton
argue that it was only in instances where Hindu rulers had linked their
political authority to royally patronized temples that destruction was resorted
to. This activism, he says, was not prompted by the 'theology of iconoclasm',
but by the desire to sweep away all 'prior political authority' in the newly
conquered territory. Further, Eaton says, attacks on images patronized by enemy
kings was well integrated into Indian political behaviour from the sixth
century AD itself, long before the Islamic advent in the sub-continent. The
Muslims, he contends, only followed and continued established sub-continental
norms.
This is a skilful dressing-up of events, but alas,
grievously faulty on many counts. As is abundantly obvious, its fundamental
thrust is to reduce, if not altogether eliminate the religious dimension in the
world-view of Muslim conquerors. But the supposed secular orientation of the
Sultans is not easy to reconcile with their consistent endeavours to remain on
the right side of Islam's religious divines. Logically, the goodwill of the
latter entailed compromise with the former stance. The two were diametrically
opposed perspectives.
Indeed, Eaton himself draws attention to the intimate
links forged between Muslim religious divines (he mainly focuses on the Chishti
Sufi order) and the Islamic state. In every instance of the establishment
of a Muslim state in the sub-continent, Muslim divines, he says, injected a
legitimizing 'substance' into the newly created body politic at the moment of
its birth.
It would be natural to infer from the steady
association of Sufis with Islamic state formation that Muslim empires had a
pronounced religious dimension. In the Hindu world, by contrast, religion and
state never acquired such a symbiotic relationship, there being few instances,
if any, of Hindu pundits actively participating in state formation. Separation
of religion and state was a fact in the Hindu world from the very outset.
Certainly, its spiritual leaders did not pontificate on matters of state or on
the policies to be pursued vis-à-vis state subjects belonging to other
denominations. Buddhist bhikshus, for instance, never advised Emperor
Ashoka on his dealings with his Hindu subjects, just as Brahmins refrained from
directing the initiatives of Gupta kings towards the sanghas.
Further, though Hindu rulers patronized temples, they
did not uproot existing modes of worship or impose their own favourite gods on
their people. In a significant number of cases, in fact, they elevated already
existing local deities, a phenomena which accounts for the great spurt in
temple building from the 6th century onwards, that Eaton refers to.
Lord Jagannath, widely acknowledged as the state deity of Orissa, was, for
instance, originally worshipped among some tribal communities, and was later
adopted as the regional deity by successive ruling dynasties.
Even if it is conceded that temples had become sites
for 'contestation of kingly authority' before the coming of Muslims, the fact
remains that Hindu kings were thereby attempting to appropriate the identity
symbols of their rivals, and not to crush or destroy them, as in the case
of Muslim conquerors. The difference in the two intentions is important.
It is also not inappropriate to question why Muslim
rulers fighting rival Muslim contenders never vandalized Muslim sacred
architecture, sponsored or patronized by the enemy party. If temples were destroyed merely to 'sweep away'
prior political authority, mosques, mazhars, dargas and madrasas
associated with renegade, rebellious or usurper Muslims should have been meted
the same fate. That this was not so was because they were part of a shared
religious culture that was common to Muslims on both sides of the political
divide. Hindu temples, not partaking of this spiritual tradition, and in fact
constituting the despised 'other' in Muslim theological discourse, inevitably
met a different end.
Lastly, Prof. Eaton makes the point, that once the
territory of a Hindu raja was incorporated into the Muslim realm, the
temples within it were treated as state property and left unmolested. However,
he hastens to add, that any suspicious activity on the part of the Hindu
ex-ruler rendered the temples immediately vulnerable to attack.
Surely this admission exposes the chinks in Prof.
Eaton's argument. If, as he had earlier claimed, Muslim Sultans attacked
temples because they were a source of legitimacy, then surely the link between
the Hindu ruler and the temple had snapped on annexation of the kingdom and its
absorption into the Muslim dominion. Why then was this form of punishment now
resorted to? Such behaviour on the part of Muslim sovereigns is eloquent
testimony to the hollowness of the so-called synthesis that allegedly evolved
under their dispensation. It is farcical to talk of a Hindu-Muslim political,
material and spiritual culture when the first and set response of every Muslim
ruler on however slender a pretext, was to attack the holy sites of their
infidel subjects.
What emerges starkly from the tour de force of modern
scholars on temple destruction in medieval India is that though the motives of
the Muslim Sultans may have 'evolved' and 'advanced' over the centuries, there
was no variation in the end result. On the admission of modern scholars, be it
financing expansionist programmes, consolidating political authority, punishing
formerly loyal Hindu princes, Muslim rulers without exception responded with
one standard solution -- temple destruction. It is astounding that modern
scholarship should gloss over this fact.
Further, the issue of temple destruction cannot be
relegated to the backburner, given its hold on the Muslim psyche. In the last
half century, temple destruction has been liberally indulged in, in Pakistan,
Bangladesh and the Kashmir Valley, to name just three prominent arenas. Since
Muslims constitute the dominant majority and political community in all the
three areas and face no threat from the Hindus, temple desecration here cannot
rightly be attributed to the alleged political compulsion to contain infidels.
Leftist Indians who talk of the futility of righting
medieval wrongs exhibit complete insensitivity to the fact that temple
destruction is not just a past hobby in the Muslim world, but a continuing
modern trend, and that, its underlying motivation is religious not political.
What makes the Babri episode so galling for Muslims is that it constitutes a
rare instance of them being at the receiving end, though even here Hindu actors
in the drama had taken care to select a non-functional masjid as the ground on
which to join this issue.
The Islamic problem in India cannot however, be
reduced to a single point issue of temple destruction. That was only
symptomatic of the deep chasm between the two antithetical belief systems.
Genuine synthesis was never a feasible proposition given the Muslim religious
fraternity's profound horror and disdain of native traditions. No school of
Islamic theology in the sub-continent ever advocated dialogue, much less
rapprochement with the native faiths, which is the pre-requisite of a synthetic
culture. Hinduism and Islam were never placed on an equal footing throughout
the period of Muslim political domination.
Scholars who treat Muslim rule as just one of the
routine dynastic shuffles in India show inadequate appreciation of the
cataclysmic nature of the change that occurred in 1196 AD with the
establishment of the first Islamic state in the sub-continent. Hindu and
Buddhist rule never acquired the brutal edge that remained the trademark of
Muslim domination; they never entailed forcible conversions, the imposition of
a foreign political elite or the ascendancy of an alien language and culture.
India had known foreign rulers in her ancient past as well, but they had
completely immersed themselves in the spirit of the land and become propagators
of her civilizational greatness. No one can honestly claim that Muslim rulers
sought to emulate such predecessors.
By now sufficient documentary evidence exits of the
Muslim religious classes' resolve and determination to ensure that Islam
retained its pristine purity in this land. Scholars who harp on the Hindu
practices of Muslim converts refer to an interim period during which such
behavioural patterns were gradually replaced by Islamic ones. Though one can
list endless number of Muslim revivalist movements, one is hard put to name any
that advocated that the faith strike local roots.
On the basis of available evidence, it is difficult
to support the contention of Marxist scholars that a composite culture
eventually evolved in the land. It would, however, be equally erroneous to
conclude that either faith triumphed over the other. The implicit struggle
resumed during colonial rule with the overwhelming majority of Muslims refusing
to countenance the possibility of Hindu political ascendancy. Partition flowed
from the logic of events, but in the nature of things it, too, was an
expression of the continuing civilizational deadlock. The Hindu political
community in independent India fudged the larger dimension of the struggle and embarked
on a policy of identity-dilution and Muslim appeasement. In other words, it
ensured the continuation of the civilizational stalemate, rather than its
termination. This monumental lapse of the Indian political elite has
facilitated Islam's burning quest to re-join battle with its millennial foe.
Kashmir is an expression of that renewed struggle, as is the silence of most
Indian Muslims on this new theatre of the war.
Viewed in the context of implacable Islamic hostility
towards paganism and the expansionist nature of the faith, Pakistan 's policies
towards India assume a frightening coherence. Its espousal of the cause of
Kashmiri Muslims and silence on Muslims in the rest of India is indicative both
of its strategy and objective. It stands to reason that if Muslim rights are
ensured in the rest of India, they cannot be endangered in Kashmir, where in
any case, the Muslims are treated by the Indian state as more equal than their
co-religionists in the rest of the country. Clearly this dimension of the
problem needs to be explicated.
Today, there is a two-way battle being fought in the
Indian sub-continent. There is, most prominently, the old millennial struggle
between Islam and the kafirs. Less noticed, but not less crucial, is the
contest between predominantly Sunni pan-Islamism with its international
dimension and disdain of local cultures and a non-Sunni Islam that is
wary of being swamped by the former and in search of allies and indigenous
links. This latter Islam is yet very much a fledgling struggling for survival.
Not surprisingly, its pre-eminent exponent hails from the strife-torn state of
Jammu & Kashmir, where both the battles are acutely joined. He is the
state's present Chief Minister, Dr. Farooq Abdullah.
(The author is a historian
and professor at Delhi university.)
© Sulekha