of alien rule over a native Hindu land, to (re)build a temple on the site was to
reclaim history itself for Hinduism.
This campaign was calibrated in its rhetoric. It built up a series of appeals,
through public meetings, repeated use of messages, the playing of tapes in public
places, and the association of sacred symbols and places with the Hindutva
conception of the nation. All this was meant to create and sustain an identity
through psychoses. It cannot be said that the strategy was thought out in
abstract terms. Rather, a direct and unquestioning connection was made
between targeting Muslims and creating support amongst Hindus who were
potentially or already hostile to Muslims. But the actual process was, in its way,
sophisticated. By heightening a sense of the alienness of an identifiable (minor-
ity) group, the campaign would bring together those who shared that sense.
From the negative identification of otherness would emerge a positive common
identity, multiplied through the psychology of crowd agglomeration. This would,
if sustained, convert into a longer-lasting support for the leaders of the mobi-
lization. Such support could translate into electoral strength. But that sense of
the alienness of Muslims, to be sustained for such ends, would inevitably require
a mass emotionalism, which would seek immediate and cathartic expression: in
violence. In short, violence appeared to be intrinsic to this method of mobiliza-
tion. Even aside from the trauma of Partition, there has been communal clashes
between Muslims and Hindus in India in the past, some extremely serious; but
this time its occurrence was a result of a political strategy, not due to a random
collection of pressures.
The mobilization proved successful on its own terms because it represented
a concrete outcome as the first step of an abstract political process. It linked
the vast ideological goal of a Hindu polity with a tangible act meant as historical
redress. Every expression of resentment over the Muslim role in India’s past and
present could be articulated in the campaign to tear down a mosque and build
a temple in its place. The formal sentiment of Hindu pride was given substance
through a more diffuse exaltation of Hindu sacrality – the ahistoric importance
of Ayodhya had impressed itself on the minds of many Hindus. Some Hindus
considered holy, either leaders or followers of various religious orders, under-
took to support the movement.
The demolition on December 6, 1992, was driven by a mixed body of mili-
tants (especially those of the Bajrang Dal, the militant [but autonomous] youth
wing of the VHP), most of them completely out of the control of the politicians
and other leaders who had led the movement and sought to gain political advan-
tage from it. The ruling Congress dithered in its response, both to the movement
and to the actual demolition, vacillating between acting strongly against Hindu
nationalist leaders (but alienating a potentially huge Hindu vote) and being
conciliatory (and alienating both Muslims and the evident majority of Hindus
opposed to the entire strategy). Some leaders were charged, some of the local
police were implicated in the destruction, there was an angry response from
Muslims, the violence escalated, and in Bombay, where the Shiv Sena was ready
to exploit its communalist muscle, there were serious riots. Apart from the actual
contemporary political hinduism 541