Editorial: Pandora's box

Just days after a ‘survey’ of the Shahi Jama Masjid in Sambhal triggered violent protests that resulted in the deaths of three Muslim demonstrators, a court in Rajasthan is entertaining litigation over the origins of the 13th century dargah of the revered Sufi mystic Khwaja Moinuddin Chishti in Ajmer. This begs the question: Why is the judiciary giving rein to the Hindu right to poke awake slumbering ghosts?

The law is clear. In the aftermath of the Babri Masjid demolition, the Places of Worship (Special Provisions) Act, 1991, was enacted, expressly to preserve the status quo of religious sites as they existed on August 15, 1947. The Act prohibits the conversion of any place of worship and seeks to prevent disputes over claims of origin. However, recent court orders granting surveys of disputed sites have allowed zealots to prise open this legislative lid on several Pandora’s boxes. Former Chief Justice DY Chandrachud's decision to allow such a survey of the Gyanvapi mosque in Varanasi has set a worrisome precedent, besides leaving a stain on his legacy as judge.

These surveys threaten to exacerbate existing divisions between communities. The Sambhal incident is a reminder that such actions can lead to violence in short order. The Supreme Court has since intervened, but the damage has been done. The atmosphere stands poisoned. These surveys could trigger endless litigation and disputes over places of worship across India.

The origins of many religious sites are often complex and intertwined with various faiths. For instance, numerous Hindu temples have been built upon earlier Jain or Buddhist structures. A notable example is the Amaralingeswara temple in Amaravati, Andhra Pradesh, where the lingam representing Shiva was taken from the famous Amaravati stupa dating back to around 200 BCE. Often there is no evidence that can nail with certainty whether such transfers transpired peacefully or at the point of a sword. Rarely is the evidence sufficient to establish ownership.

Delineating religious ownership based solely on historical narratives is fraught with difficulties. Today, the ramifications extend beyond legal disputes; they threaten India's long-standing communal amity. In a recent letter to Prime Minister Modi, several former senior bureaucrats expressed alarm over how these actions could destabilise social harmony and pointed out the irony of Modi donating a chadar during the annual Urs at Ajmer Sharif.

Court-ordered surveys of places of worship not only contravene the spirit of the Places of Worship Act, they also compromise the impartiality of the judiciary and show up the hollowness of India protesting the attacks on Hindu temples in Bangladesh today. It is imperative therefore for the courts to exercise caution and consider the broader implications of its rulings.

The BJP-led government at the Centre cannot hide behind the ruse that these litigations are merely the actions of individuals and fringe groups, detached from official policy. That is a lie: It is well-documented that under the current administration, governmental policy often reflects and follows the actions and rhetoric of extremist factions. Tacit endorsement of such divisive litigations by the ruling party not only legitimises these fringe elements, but also emboldens them. This has been evident in various instances where state mechanisms have facilitated or ignored violence against minorities, thereby signaling such actions are not only tolerated, but perhaps encouraged. The consequences of this approach are dire, as they threaten to erupt as a rash all over India's body politic.