Council for Social Justice and Peace – Goa

If normalcy is the mere absence of violence, then even the most volatile parts of the country can be said to have retained their normal demeanour in the days following the Allahabad High Court judgement on the Ramjanmabhoomi-Babri Masjid title suits.If, however, normalcy implies a socio-cultural atmosphere of mutual respect, trust and goodwill among people, underscored by the absence of subterranean tensions, then parts of India have not been normal at all.The Ayodhya judgement, it is said, is less about justice and more about a loaded compromise. Clearly, it found favour with Hindutva groups, their supporters, and even other segments of India’s majority population. The jubilation and self-congratulation were writ large on the face of many a Hindutva leader as news of the judgement trickled in; almost in concert, they reiterated the project a “bhavya Ram mandir”, and desired that Muslim community representatives come forth for a “settlement”. In the celebration and prevailing “normalcy”, it may be possible—but not prudent—to ignore the disquiet among Muslims.

Among them, there’s an unmistakable sense of hurt and angst. Sometimes it comes across as acceptance, helpless or otherwise, of the judgement and ensuing situation; often it translates into seething anger at the one democratic institution they believed would give them justice; mixed in between is trepidation that the judgement may have paved the way for “settling” ownership issues about other disputed shrines in the country. The Ayodhya judgement, much like the demolition of December 6, 1992, marks a moment in the Muslim psyche; many in the community see the demolition as a blow and the judgement as a betrayal.

“There was no justice done at all to the Muslim community. It’s very visibly a one-sided verdict; the distribution of land is all wrong, and there is no acknowledgement of the demolition at all,” thunders Rehana Salamat Sheikh, principal, Anjuman-i-Islam Allana English High School in Mumbai. Adds Hasina Khan, activist and prime force behind Awaaz-e-Niswaan, an organisation to raise awareness among Muslim women: “Our community has no option but to accept the decision but it tells us that the system itself is so biased. It’s as if the judgement says, ‘You (the Muslims) have also been given something, so don’t make a noise!’ There’s insecurity among Muslim youth.”

Among them, there’s an unmistakable sense of hurt and angst. Sometimes it comes across as acceptance, helpless or otherwise, of the judgement and ensuing situation; often it translates into seething anger at the one democratic institution they believed would give them justice; mixed in between is trepidation that the judgement may have paved the way for “settling” ownership issues about other disputed shrines in the country. The Ayodhya judgement, much like the demolition of December 6, 1992, marks a moment in the Muslim psyche; many in the community see the demolition as a blow and the judgement as a betrayal.

“There was no justice done at all to the Muslim community. It’s very visibly a one-sided verdict; the distribution of land is all wrong, and there is no acknowledgement of the demolition at all,” thunders Rehana Salamat Sheikh, principal, Anjuman-i-Islam Allana English High School in Mumbai. Adds Hasina Khan, activist and prime force behind Awaaz-e-Niswaan, an organisation to raise awareness among Muslim women: “Our community has no option but to accept the decision but it tells us that the system itself is so biased. It’s as if the judgement says, ‘You (the Muslims) have also been given something, so don’t make a noise!’ There’s insecurity among Muslim youth.”

The notion of equal citizenship seems to have taken a blow. The twin themes of marginalisation and second-class citizenship are difficult to miss even among those who have apparently “accepted” the judgement. Indeed, acceptance seems to be the most honourable way out for many in the community; even those who are angry say their angst may be addressed if and when the Sunni Waqf Board appeals in the Supreme Court, but right now they will have to simply accept the situation. Dildar Ahmed, a nylon net seller in old Delhi, typifies it: “The case has moved forward, it has somewhat blunted the urge among Muslims to fight for a mosque, but this will go to the SC.” Not far away, Mohammad Arif, date seller, says, “Go to the SC, but what can we expect—half of the disputed land?”

Adds J.S. Bandookwala, retired physics professor, Baroda University, and founder, Zidni Ilma Charitable Trust, which focuses on the education of Muslims, specially girls, “Given our problems, we can’t go on a confrontation with the RSS. At times we may be right but can’t go too far with our confrontation.”

In Kozhikode, Abdul Razak, 43, has taken the judgement in his stride, saying “it has averted communal clashes. Just imagine what would have happened were the verdict different.” The Muslim on the street in Lucknow accepts the verdict, because, as daily wage-earner Meraj says, it “saved us from riots”. The intelligentsia find other reasons. Dr Mansoor Hasan, former head of cardiology department, King George’s Medical College, says: “Our acceptance should not be misconstrued as vindication of the condemnable demolition, but we need to move ahead.” Adds former high court judge and erstwhile Uttarakhand Lokayukta, S.H.A Raza, “The judges did cross certain limits, but the majority verdict could not have been better.”

If there’s a practical edge to the acceptance, there’s also a vulnerable helplessness. As Farzana Contractor (nee Khan), Mumbai-based editor of food magazine Upper Crust, reflects: “Our dignity which was lost post the razing of the Babri Masjid has not been restored, but nobody wants a repeat of that horrendous time. So the consensus is: swallow your pride and accept what is dished out.” Such resignation is true of Muslims in other cities too. In Bhopal, Shafique Khan, who works in Life Insurance Corporation, is satisfied with the judgement because it did not trigger off violence and mayhem.

Bangalore’s N.A.M. Ismail, a journalist in his 30s, too is resigned. “The only thing is that the RSS should not claim victory and act patronisingly. There is one lingering question in my mind: could the title suit have been dismissed in that fashion?” Prof A.R. Kamruddin, a former advisor to UNESCO and director of the Darul Umoor Tipu Sultan Research Centre, and now in his 70s, says, “Since the judgement satisfies the egos of some people, we can now keep that as the basis. This is not a problem between Hindus and Muslims; it’s a conflict between people with narrow political interests.”

In Meerut, truck driver Yakoob Ali, scarred by the 1987 communal violence here and now feeling betrayed by the judgement, says, “It is cliched to say that we are all brothers but I want it to be our reality now. Let us accept.” Quick calculations tell him that each party will get at least 136 bighas of land. “That’s enough to build a beautiful mosque and also set up a small school. Let’s all build what we have to.” Mumbai’s Sohail Khandwani, board member of Mahim Dargah and Haji Ali Dargah, is satisfied that “nothing untoward happened, though there’s something in the hearts and minds of Muslims”.Those Muslims who do not live in community mohallas or lead the typical Muslim life, however, harbour more genteel feelings at the outcome. Given their education, professional work, cosmopolitan lifestyles, they are perhaps more accommodating of the judgement. As Irfan Khan, former media professional and member of Muslims for Secular Democracy in Mumbai, avers, “It’s a political judgement but I believe a great burden has been lifted off our shoulders. This should be over now. Now, in fact, if the Hindutva brigade doesn’t build a temple or demands Kashi and Mathura, they will get exposed as troublemakers.” This section of Muslim opinion is not too keen that the Sunni Waqf Board approach the Supreme Court.