Aurangzeb row: What’s behind the history wars?

The intersection of history and politics has been an inescapable feature of modern times, and its consequences have been both positive and unintended. Despite attempts by apparently well-meaning ideologues to erase the past and impose an arbitrary ‘Year Zero’ on nations and continents, the past has invariably crept back into the present.The belief among the upholders of cosmopolitan modernity that silly controversies over the past, including the most recent bust-up over the Mughal emperor Aurangzeb and his remarkably austere tomb in a district of Maharashtra that once bore his name, are symptomatic of the simple-mindedness and excitability of the Indian street, is itself facile. Battles over history are not unique to India. Israel, for instance, has been moulded entirely by the historical experience of Jews. The European Union, to cite an example, expended a considerable amount of its energies in projecting a rules-based order that would transcend nationality. However, as the recent ‘populist’ upsurge all over the continent indicates, national cultures and national histories are not easily detached from the minds of people. The denial of national sentiment, especially over non-European immigration, by the Brussels Eurocrats has produced a virulent backlash that could jettison all fanciful ideas of an ‘imperial’ EU and reshape the political map of Europe. It is now clear that the project to create a new Europe, which included drawing a veil over the past, as in post-1945 Germany, is unlikely to make headway elsewhere. The examples of countries such as Hungary, Italy, Austria, Russia and even France suggest that history is still going to be viewed through a national prism. Even in Britain, the bout of post-colonial, self-flagellation may be nearing the end of its natural life. In an ideal world, the recovery of sovereignty after centuries of servitude and subordination should have prompted an explosion of nationalist feeling, aimed at avenging history. Whether it is admitted or not, the creation of a Pakistan that saw itself as the rightful inheritor of India’s Islamic past should have made the process less cluttered. Indeed, the first flush of Independence saw the rebuilding of the much-vandalised Somnath temple and the takeover of the disputed shrine in Ayodhya. In Kolkata, the Holwell Monument commemorating the victims of the Black Hole tragedy, was relocated from the road outside Writer’s Buildings to the grounds of a church nearby. A similar exercise was undertaken in Kanpur with the Bibighar Memorial honouring those British women and children killed by the rebels in 1857. Today, the original site of the well is unmarked and flanked by a bust of Tantia Tope. The last occasion the so-called mutiny memorials, located in Kanpur, Lucknow and Delhi, attracted controversy was in 2007, on the 150th anniversary of the uprising. Some enterprising British tour companies had organised conducted tours for Britons whose families had either died or had participated in the campaigns against the rebels. Unfortunately for the tourists, the locals in UP viewed the visits as an affront and a glorification of imperial rule. They organised hostile demonstrations, and the tours were called off. It is interesting that the more public of the Raj memorabilia was by and large left untouched till the 1970s. The street names persisted till much later and the celebration of Sir Edwin Lutyens’ legacy even became a handle to beat PM Modi with during the upgradation of the Central Vista. There were two possible reasons why India was relatively untouched by the history wars until the 1990s. First, the steady decline of Britain as a great power meant that there was no immediacy to persist with the anti-imperial crusade. There were battles to minimise the importance of the English language, but by the 1970s, English had become more identified with Americans. Secondly, it was the conscious attempt of the Congress ecosystem to disentangle nationhood from history and culture as much as possible. The deification of secularism and syncretism implied that a firm lid was put on Hindu anxieties over nearly seven centuries of domination by Muslim rulers. Historians led the charge in suggesting that India hadn’t experienced any loss of self, except under colonial rule. However, this political project ran aground partly because the histories were often contrived, over-theorised and written in turgid prose. The result was a sharp mismatch between the official narrative and the remembered past. It would be an act of mindless vandalism if Aurangzeb’s grave was desecrated by those out to exact retribution for his vengeful destruction of Hindu temples. At the same time, the cause of enlightened modernity would hardly be served by painting him as an accomplished practitioner of realpolitik who furthered the process of his own kingdom’s eventual collapse. The self-image of Aurangzeb was that of a devout ruler, which also meant that he didn’t give a toss for the feeling of infidels. If this view corresponds to how Bollywood has projected him, it doesn’t mean it is untrue.