Desicritics Author: Sam Siddiqui

Remembering Babri Masjid

Sam Siddiqui — Thu, 6 Dec 2007 12:50:49 EST

Who had even heard of it? A nondescript little used mosque somewhere in the city of Ayodhya in central India. On 6 Dec 1992, Babri Masjid became the mosque that no one in India would ever forget, a national wound that 15 years later, still throbs, still pierces the hearts of those who lost forever the security of being at home.

Yet, this should have been the last mosque to stand as a symbol of our inner khalish. According to the District Gazetteer Faizabad 1905: “up to this time (1855), both the Hindus and the Muslims used to worship in the same building. But since the Mutiny (1857), an outer enclosure has been put up in front of the Masjid and the Hindus forbidden access to the inner yard, make the offerings on a platform, which they have raised in the outer one."

Claims of a Ram temple under the mosque had persisted through history, many people believing that Babur had built the mosque after demolishing the temple. No specific mention was made of this in the Babur Nama though, and some historians believe Babur merely repaired the edifice, not built it. Regardless, on that fateful day, 75,000 - 200,000 saffron-clad militants, mostly from the Vishwa Hindu Parishad, climbed over the edifice to bring it down, to rescue the Janmabhoomi of the Gods.

My memories of the day are scattered. At the time, it seemed like some far away, alien happening on another planet. Did things like this happen in India? We heard about it and saw it on television, but it was still all very unbelievable. Who were all these people and what did they want? An old mosque? We had seen the rath yatra passing before our house some days back, an exercise in sensationalism that had all looked very filmi to me.

It was a stark piece of reality to many others. In Ayodhya, Muslims were afraid and changed their nameplates to avoid recognition. The air resonated with the sentiments one would associate with pages of ancient history.

"Every civil building connected with Mahommedan tradition should be levelled to the ground without regard to antiquarian veneration or artistic predilection.” British Prime Minister Palmerston’s Letter No. 9 dated 9 October 1857, to Lord Canning, Viceroy of India, Canning Papers.

People locked themselves in their home and uneasily peered outside. The kar sevaks were going through the streets of Ayodhya, mocking the fabric of Indian communal harmony, tearing it as they went. There was pain and disbelief on the faces I saw, shock at the demolition and the feeling of being abandoned and being betrayed by their countrymen. Houses were razed, people killed and maimed each other. Bombay was under curfew (!!Bombay!!). There were bomb blasts in the city, something that was not a common everyday occurrence at the time. I heard of a bearded man who had been burned alive, only later did they find out that he was Parsi, not Muslim.

Very very surreal to me. All this over a building?

My good friend at the time called and apologized to me for it. Why? Because she was Hindu. I was flabbergasted. What did I have to do with a decrepit mosque I had never seen? Why did she need to apologize for unknown strangers doing things un-Indian? I remember she gave me three hand-embroidered handkerchiefs and a card about national Unity.

I was bemused and realised in her own way, she was showing her solidarity to our friendship and was upset over my perceived alienation by the incident. Cemented with chai breaks and crying over each others shoulders through five years of college, did we really need a card to tell us we're okay? I hugged her and said, "It was just an old building I had never seen." It had nothing to do with me. Truly, it was how I felt.

The Babri Masjid demolition was a pivotal moment in our history. It established firmly that fundamentalism had come home to stay, that religion, from that moment on, would be a defining factor in Indian politics and society, that rather than Indian, we were Hindus and Muslims. It ushered in the era of Hindutva and Islamic fundamentalism in India. The BJP and Shiv Sena became household names in all Bombay as well as the rest of the country. In Bombay, we lost our complacency that communalism was not for us. We became Mumbai and blended in, lost our spark, a recognition that whatever had happened to us those two months changed us forever. No longer could we boast of our cosmopolitan and secular nature. It wasn't just us either, there was arson, looting, rape and destruction of temples in nearby Bangladesh.

Today, the site of the demolition is under the protection of the Supreme Court. Our interminably slow justice system ponders and ponders over what should be done. The Liberhan Commission set up in 1992 to investigate the circumstances of the demolition has become the longest running Commission in the history of the country. Bureaucracy and Politics plod on.

I hear many opinions on what should be done. The government should rebuild the mosque, say guilt-stricken Hindus, with a temple nearby. A monument to Unity is needed here, say others. Muslims are curiously reluctant to offer their opinions, the ones who care also feel they have lost the right to have a say, they have been evicted from their home. The ones who don't care can't see what the fuss is about. Build a school and educate the people, they say, offhandedly.

Speaking to many people on this issue this week, I was struck by something unusual. The lack of blame. Did Muslims blame the Hindus for the demolition. No, said the ones I spoke to, it was a momentary fanaticism. Even Hindus who recalled their support of the issue at the time admitted to a feeling of dismay, shame and disbelief that they could have ever been involved in this. "Just goes to show how easily people are misled," they say, shaking their heads, as if to shake off the memories of their naivete.

To me, its all still surreal. Half a lifetime ago, on a different planet. Not my India.

Amar Akbar Anthony: Fact and Fiction

Sam Siddiqui — Sun, 2 Dec 2007 00:33:56 EST

I was just going through my Hindi movie collection to pass a dull wintry afternoon. With my hot cup of chai and some nice mirchi bhajias to tempt the palate, I sorted through the 'oldies', all part of my nostalgia melee when the winter blues descended on me.

Ignoring the snow and sleet outside, I picked up my copy of Amar Akbar Anthony, and a wave of nostalgia washed over me.

I remember the first time we saw it, we rushed into Gaiety Galaxy as the credits were running, late as usual, mom and kids, great fans of the pikchars we watched as often as we could. If we rushed right after school, we could get the 12:30 pm show (saade baara baje wala show).

I remember now all the things I did not think then.

I did not think, for example, that there was anything weird about three brothers who professed three different religions. I did not think it odd that the Muslim and Christian brothers had absolutely no resemblance to any Muslim or Christian I knew, but were outright caricatures.

It was perfectly normal in Hindi movies then (as it is to some extent even now) to show Muslims and Christians in a very unnatural light. Muslims were always very polite, ate paan and wore soorma. The women preferred heavy, exotic jewelry like large chandan haar necklaces, bindiyas and jhumkas. They wore long salwar kameez garments with lots of rhinestones and spangles. Their homes had glass chandeliers and bead curtains with pictures of Mecca on the wall (or an image with a calligraphy of Allah) and were always very devout, praying emotionally with tears running down their cheeks. They spoke Urdu affectedly, using unfamiliar phrases and quoted Urdu shairi, while bowing repeatedly in salaams.

They were alien beings to me - I prayed in pajamas, if at all, and spent most of the time shifting my feet despondently as I tried hard not to think of the I Love Lucy show I was missing. I wished I was devout and worthy. Even while reading the Quran, I was more enthralled with the paandaan and the Hyderabadi accent of my aapa (literally big sister, but a term of respect we used for the lady who taught us to read) than with the unpronounceable squiggles I was reading.

We had no curtains or pictures of Mecca on the wall, my father read legal thrillers and wore cotton shorts and vests at home, mom read the newspaper and Jasoosi Duniya, wore cotton saris. We read Archies Comics and lived in simple dresses. All of us spoke Bambaiya.

In the movie, the Muslim brother chewed paan and wore a neck kerchief and a 'miyabhai' cap, Allah was frequently peppered in his conversations. And the burkha was a must for his jaaneman, who was a Muslima. Did anyone think it odd that he should be with a Muslima? The Christian brother wore top hats and carried a cane and danced some Western like dances. He was betrothed to a Christian girl who wore a dress. The Hindu brother was the 'normal' Indian, the only one I could identify with, something which did not even occur to me at the time.

At the interval, we rushed out and had samosas, sometimes I think we went to Gaiety Galaxy especially because of their piping hot samosas (Rs 1 for two at the time and larger and tastier than what we get now). Back in the dark, we stumbled into our seats, pushing past patrons who would never dream of getting up to make it easier. I was enthralled with the drama and dishoom dishoom and watched closely to see if my mother started crying when the brothers were united (my mother always cried in Hindi movies, a practice I faithfully adhere to, in her memory). My brother watched me to see when I would cry. The songs were wonderful and we sang them as we went home. My name is Anthony Gonsalves...Eeyaaahooo! Main duniya mein akela hoon!

Today, looking back, I cannot remember at what point I came to the realization that I was represented by the Muslim brother. Was this how other Indians saw Muslims? It was not how I saw myself at all.

As I watch the movie today, I reflect on what India and being Indian means to me. I look at my chai and bhajias, at Amitabh, at my memories of the pikchar shows, at school days spent playing langdi and phugdi and kho kho, with my friends Hema and Mary.

Did it ever really matter who prayed to what God? When did it ever become a matter of such importance? Would an Amar Akbar Anthony be possible today?

Snakes and Ladders

Sam Siddiqui — Sat, 1 Dec 2007 00:45:45 EST

Vaikuntapaali or Parampada Sopanam, better known as Snakes and Ladders made its appearance in India somewhere around 2 B.C.

Like Life, the game is full of ups and downs; like Hinduism, being swallowed by the snake (evil) brought death which lead to the cycle of rebirths, going through the entire process, again, subject to the same roll of dice or cowries. Good deeds (aka ladders) took you higher and away from the cycle of karma.

Interestingly, the positioning of the ladders and snakes had deeper moral implications.

    The squares of virtue on the original game were Faith (12), Reliability (51), Generosity (57), Knowledge (76), Asceticism (78).

    The squares of evil are Disobedience (41), Vanity (44), Vulgarity (49), Theft (52), Lying (58), Drunkenness (62), Debt (69), Rage (84), Greed (92), Pride (95), Murder (73) and Lust (99).

    One opines that the final square is release or Nirvana.

The game was "discovered" by the British in the 1850s; their Victorian values probably identified with the values in the game, though they sanitized it for the religious implications and exported it as a game for children.

There are indications that the game may have been derived from the dasapada another game that was played on a 10x10 grid, while still others cite Sant Gyandev, a 13th century poet as the author, this game being originally called Mokshapat, or the path to salvation.

Andrew Topsfield (Artebus Asiae, 1985), while lamenting the ephemeral nature of the original cloth and paper boards, believes the game to be a secular version of the gyan chaupar (loosely translated as 'the chess of knowledge'), no dated version of which survives from before the 18th century.

In this version of the game, there are 72 squares and the aim of the game is to reach Vaikuntha (the abode of Vishnu), or square 68, through the ladders of virtue, with the snakes of sin hampering progress.

Then you have the Jain version of the game, which can be played online here.

Even the British were pretty imaginative in their interpretations, with a variety of boards designed around the basic game.

Interesting how games evolve with time, culture and players.

I wonder about the rules and level of complexity of the original Indian games, which were designed for adults, rather than children.

The Indo-US Nuclear Deal: To Be or Not To Be?

Sam Siddiqui — Sun, 25 Nov 2007 13:00:15 EST

The current stand by the Left leaders to put an indefinite hold on the Indo-US nuclear deal while awaiting its ratification by the Indian Parliament, is a good opportunity to go over the grievances and assertions of both sides regarding this two year long attempt by the US to share its technology and nuclear fuel with India for civil purposes.

Both sides of the Indian government and the nation's scientists have reservations regarding the conditions attached to this proposal, chiefly the ability to carry out nuclear testing and limiting India's right to process depleted uranium fuel, a key step in plutonium processing; which they perceive as an undermining of India's national security concerns as well as its sovereignty.

India, US and the NPT:

Since 1974, when India conducted its first nuclear weapons test, it has been effectively isolated in the international nuclear community, with consequent barring of any civilian use of nuclear technology and materials. This followed India's refusal to be a signatory to the nuclear nonproliferation treaty (enacted in 1970 and extended indefinitely in 1995) and comprehensive test ban treaty, on the basis of their unequal and discriminatory nature.

The United States itself rejected ratification of the test ban treaty and renounced the obligations made to non-nuclear parties at the 1995 and 2000 conferences. Moreover, the US Senate has voted to keep alive the bunker buster program in the face of demands that it be dropped.

Broken Promises:

After a promise of long term nuclear support to India in 1963 and following the provision of India's first two nuclear power reactors, the United States unilaterally changed its policy in the 1970s and stopped supplying fuel. Huge pools of spent nuclear waste accumulated in India, with Washington neither taking it back nor giving India the requisite permission to process it.

Conditional Treaty:

Apart from restrictions on processing depleted uranium or conducting nuclear tests, the Indo-US nuclear deal is further contingent on certain conditions expected to be met by India.

1. Cutting down emission of greenhouse gases, which imposes restrictions on industry and technology, as well as development of infrastructure.

2. US opposition to the $7 billion Iran-Pakistan-India gas pipeline project; a necessity in a multi-pronged approach to energy considering India's growing requirements. India would also have to cut off all energy and military agreements with Iran, a long standing and historical ally.

3. Joint operations with US military for non-proliferation and security, which essentially put India in the disturbing position of playing watch dog for the US at a time when the US sponsored War on Terror has destabilized world peace and security.

So, why should India consider the Indo-US civilian nuclear deal?

Political Gains:

Firstly, it would not only improve India's standing as a regional superpower, but also in the next decade, provide it with a permanent seat on the UN Security Council (albeit without a veto), with the opportunity to have its voice heard in world forums like the UN and WTO as well as the IMF.

Technological Growth:

The treaty would provide an instant spur to India's technological growth, through import of nuclear technology; high tech manufacturing investments would increasingly find their way to India, with its low labor costs and strong base of science and engineering graduates.

Economic gains:

The US and Europe presently send the bulk of their capital to China for consumer goods. The import of technology (avoided by the US and Europe for China), would make India a competitive contender in the fields of high technology capital goods, such as auto parts, pharmaceuticals, computer hardware, commercial aircraft manufacture, ship building, steel plants, mining and drilling hardware and petrochemical facilities.

As is apparent from the weighing of pros and cons above, India stands to gain a lot from this nuclear deal, although it would be wise not to give up too much of our sovereignty and to keep a firm eye on what is in our best strategic and domestic interests.

As Defence Minister AK Antony said, in reference to the Indo-US nuclear deal, “The challenge is to keep pace with these technological changes is more pronounced than ever before. The choice before us is clear – either let events shape us, or enhance our ability to shape events.”