
It’s just a few days to the 17th anniversary of the Babri demolition. It is time to forget the Liberhan commission and seek closure on the events of that tumultuous day. We need to understand the real meaning of December 6, 1992. Since then, in our blind efforts to demonise the Sangh parivar, we have ignored the real gains made by our polity. It speaks much for the shallowness of our intelligentsia, that they are unable to see what lay in front of their eyes.
Every society learns by making mistakes. It is one of the big ironies of life that we learn only after societies and individuals sometimes pay a horrendous price for it, but there’s no getting away from it. Emperor Ashoka learnt the value of moderation and non-violence only after the murderous Kalinga war. We learnt the value of a solid defence only after being ignominiously thrashed by the Chinese in 1962. The world recognised the jehadi nature of the Pakistani regime only after 9/11, the London bombings and 26/11, among other things.
Hindus have realised the follies of narrow Hindutva only after 1992 and 2002; they know that it diminishes Hinduism and is something the country cannot afford. Through a painful process, Muslims have made their own discoveries: that sham secularism and placing trust in rabble-rousers can land them in the ditch.
One of the unexpected conclusions of Liberhan is that the Ayodhya movement had widespread support among a segment of Hindus. This is the only conclusion one can draw when he condemns almost every single leader of the BJP-RSS-VHP-Bajrang Dal combine, and goes on to blame the common man for the destruction of the structure.
While it is obvious that the Sangh parivar did not represent all Hindus, there is no doubt that in much of north India, Hindus had developed huge awareness about the Ram Janmabhoomi issue. While few expected the worst to happen on December 6, when the masjid was brought down, there was a sense of momentary catharsis – as one columnist noted astutely – mixed with a strong sense of unease. One should not, therefore, dismiss LK Advani’s comment - that it was the "saddest" day of his life - out of hand. His statement was at least half-true.
For many Hindus, the fall of Babri ended their sense of rage at their own real or imagined powerlessness. The Ayodhya movement, by mobilising people across caste and gender barriers, enabled lakhs of men and women to discover their own agency and sense of public participation.
Put another way, the bringing down of the masjid enabled Hindus to break out of the old mould of imagined passivity even while realising that this was not what they wanted. It is difficult for non-Hindus to understand these mixed emotions.
The closest comparison could be what Muslims felt on 9/11, when the twin towers were demolished. There was a sense of both horror and hidden fulfilment. Political correctness stops Muslims today from glorifying 9/11, but one could sense a sneaking sense of admiration, even pride, in the body language of Muslims one met immediately after 9/11. The subtext of what they said was this: "It was horrible that so many people died, but you must admire the audacity and courage with which the hijackers executed their plans."
Babri also served as a wakeup call for Muslims, who were till then willing to let obscurantist leaders and phony secularists lead them to a dead end. After December 6, despite a short flirtation with communal politics, ordinary Muslims started to take matters into their own hands by sending their children to schools and organising themselves politically to demand the things they really needed: jobs and public recognition of their citizenship. In the decade after 1991, that is, in the post-Babri decade, Muslims have made great strides in education through their own efforts. Even though they lag behind Hindus on the literacy ratio (65.1% for Hindus vs 59.1% for Muslims in 2001), the gap is narrowing.
In as many as 10 states, mostly in the western and southern regions, they are either better off or at least equal to Hindus in terms of the literacy rate. Four states which account for half the Muslim population in India are almost entirely responsible for the community’s backwardness — Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, West Bengal and Assam. Apart from being poorly administered, three of the four are backward because of high migration from Bangladesh. In short, if we concentrate all our efforts on improving the lot of the poor and illiterate in these four states and reduce immigration from Bangladesh, Muslims would automatically catch up with Hindus — at least on the literacy front.
December 6 was no more justified than 9/11, and we can’t run away from the consequences. But, hopefully, both Hindus and Muslims have learnt from it to say “never again”. However, one can never discount the ability of politicians to rake it all up again.
