Sunanda K. Datta-Ray | Will temple fervour lead to a re-discovery' of India?

Somewhere in the dusty corners of an akhra in mofussil Bangladesh is a piece of carving that might have stoked the fires of civil war if it had been in India. The black stone depicting Hara-Parvati was found when a tank was being excavated on our family’s land. Being chipped, it was deemed unlucky, and my eldest uncle shunted it off to the akhra in respectful oblivion. I am probably the only living member of the family to be aware of its existence. I saw it last when visiting East Pakistan in 1965.

That lost link with the land of my fathers came to mind after watching two fascinating podcasts on the defining issue of our times, the inauguration of the Ram Mandir in Ayodhya. In one, Meenakshi Jain, author of Flight of Deities and Rebirth of Temples: Episodes from Indian History, seemed to warn obliquely that turmoil such as Ayodhya experienced might be repeated hundreds of times in a country bristling with ancient religious ruins. In the other, Nripendra Misra, a veteran IAS officer and key figure in Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s administration, agreed that his post-retirement appointment as chairman of the Shri Ram Janmabhoomi Teerth Kshetra Trust indicated that he was “an instrument of something that God has willed”.

I must confess to hearing both claims with a profound sense of disquiet. Not that there is any question of disputing Dr Jain’s assessment that the evidence of temples conclusively establishes the civilisational continuity that makes India a country rather than a continent like Europe or Africa. I was also deeply impressed by Mr Misra’s descriptions and recollections of the Prime Minister which revealed that Mr Modi is a man of few words who may consult others but needs no advice and whose orders must be promptly and fully obeyed.

But what of the substance of those orders? According to the Constitution, India is a “sovereign, socialist, secular, democratic republic” with a parliamentary system of government. That definition has always been interpreted to mean that Indians are free to practise any and every religion under the sun, or none at all, but that the Indian State is not committed to any particular creed.

In contrast, Britain is an avowedly Anglican Christian nation. The monarch being the supreme governor of the Church of England, cannot be or marry a Roman Catholic. Although when he was Prince of Wales, King Charles III had said several times that the monarch’s title of “Defender of the Faith” should be revised to “Defender of Faiths”, but he has shown no such inclination since ascending the throne. In practice, however, Britain is not bound to any one faith. Rishi Sunak, the ethnic Indian Prime Minister, professes to be a Hindu and took his oath of office on the Bhagwad Gita; Scotland’s ethnic Pakistani Glasgow-born First Minister, Humza Yousaf, being a Muslim, took his oath on the Holy Quran. British society is broad-minded enough to make room for all faiths and sufficiently civilised not to restrict the privileges of full citizenship to members of any one religion.

Aiming at a similarly inclusive India, the first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, felt that the government should have absolutely nothing to do with reconstructing the Somnath Temple in Gujarat, which Mahmud of Ghazni had plundered and destroyed several centuries earlier. Hence his reproach to Rajendra Prasad, the first President of India: “I confess that I do not like the idea of your associating yourself with the spectacular opening of the Somnath Temple. This is not merely visiting a temple, which can certainly be done by you or anyone else, but rather participating in a significant function which unfortunately has some implications.” President Rajendra Prasad retorted with an astutely worded political reply that played to the populist gallery. “I would do the same with a mosque or a church if I were invited,” he wrote. “This is the core of Indian secularism. Our State is neither irreligious nor anti-religious.”

With national elections ahead, today’s Congress Party does not mince words about the political aims of the ruling Bharatiya Janata Party and the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh. “Religion is a personal matter but the RSS and the BJP have made the Ayodhya temple a political project”, declared a Congress statement. The party must be acutely and uncomfortably aware that the grand if disputed inauguration of the Ayodhya temple on January 22 may lead to an upsurge of nationalistic fervour in a country whose unlettered and hungry millions love nothing more than the magical bread of a circus. For some educated Indians too, it may be another discovery of India itself.

That’s what the authorities want. Why else would the trust that Mr Misra heads have invited a galaxy of 4,000 “saints” -- seemingly a manufactured and marketable commodity -- and 2,400 celebrities, including sportsmen and film stars?

Readers will remember the television coverage of the earlier bhoomi puja when Mr Modi, wearing a gilt coronet, prostrated himself at full length on the floor. The televised scene recalled for me the penitent Holy Roman Emperor Henry IV waiting barefoot in the snow for three days outside the fortress of Canossa for Pope Gregory VII to open the gates to expunge Henry’s sins and repeal his excommunication.

What was a spectacle of humility and apology for the medieval European monarch will be a moment of glory for the modern Indian politician. “It is my good fortune that I was invited to witness this historical moment... From Kanyakumari to Kshirbhavani, from Koteshwar to Kamakhya, from Jagannath to Kedarnath, from Somnath to Kashi Vishwanath… today the entire country is immersed in Lord Ram”, Mr Modi announced with triumphant humility. Ayodhya being the symbol of the India that he claims to have discovered and is recreating, Mr Modi can adapt Napoleon’s boast: “I found the crown in the gutter. I picked it up and the people put it on my head.”

Thousands of such lost crowns can be picked up from forgotten sites across the length and breadth of India and beyond. Dr Jain mentioned Ayodhya, Kashi and Mathura. One recalls the historical negationist, Purushottam Nagesh Oak, claiming that Christianity and Islam were both derivatives of Hinduism; that Vatican City, the Ka’aba, Westminster Abbey and the Taj Mahal were erstwhile Shiva temples; and that the Roman Catholic papacy was originally a Vedic priesthood.

Amidst this multitude of lofty assertions, my humble Hara-Parvati might also pretend to represent some vanished Hindu tradition. Only an adventurous politician can trumpet that claim.