Revocation of Article 370 is Legally Untenable

On August 5, 2019, the Government of India introduced a slew of measures, unilaterally and undemocratically, which, in effect, revoked the special status granted to the State of Jammu and Kashmir (J&K), by virtue of Article 370 of the Constitution. Before we understand the import of what changes have been streamrolled, it is important to understand the historical background of Article 370.

At the time of independence in 1947, the Indian Independence Act came into force, which gave an option to the 565 Indian Princely States, including the Princely State of Jammu & Kashmir ruled by Maharaja Hari Singh, to either remain independent, or join the Dominion of India or the Dominion of Pakistan. Though most Princely States signed an instrument of accession with India, the State of Jammu & Kashmir did not, since Maharaja Hari Singh wanted to remain independent.

However, just few months later, on 20^th October, 1947, Jammu & Kashmir was attacked by armed tribesmen from Pakistan, creating panic in Maharaja Hari Singh who did not have sufficient local army to quell the attack, and to protect the territory. Accordingly, he sought India’s help, and signed the instrument of accession with India on 27^th October, 1947.

Culture, Law, National, Politics, Society

By Amritananda Chakravorty

August 6, 2019

The Language of Resistance

Apart from the splendour of its landscape, the beauty of its freshwater lakes and Mughal gardens, its people’s hospitality and its Sufi culture of tolerance and transcendental spirituality, Kashmir is also known for its humour, satire and creativity. Through the years of oppression and suffering, Kashmiris have learned to laugh and poke fun at themselves and their perceived oppressors. In the new culture of resistance, hidden forms of expression are as relevant as the visible forms, displayed through slogans, graffiti, cartoons, music, protests, sit-ins, hunger strikes, candlelight vigils, and even stone pelting. How effective are the different forms of resistance? And what exactly constitutes creative forms of resistance?

As touched upon before, there is a widespread perception among the people that the narratives of India and Pakistan on Kashmir are written from hegemonic positions with monolithic projections that gloss over the realities and complexities of the conflict. These contentious perceptions have induced creative responses and endeavours, which go beyond prose, to investigate and study in order to challenge representations seen as ‘propagandist’ and ‘rhetorical’. That is why Kashmir has witnessed the emergence of new indigenous voices that not only offer fresh perspectives but also give us a sense of how Kashmiris have lived and experienced their conflict.

Cartoonists like Suhail H. Naqshbandi and Mir Suhail Qadri, rap artists like Mohammad Muneem and MC Kash, and musicians like Ali Saffudin are some of those who are employing creative forms to tell Kashmir’s story. Kashmir’s new literature of resistance cannot be brushed aside as merely a literature of propaganda or of protest. Rather, this new culture of writing and documentation offers an outlet to suppressed aspirations and an articulation of collective memories of pain and resilience. Kashmir’s award-winning artist and sculptor, Masood Hussain, came up with an artistic portrayal of the civilian uprising after Burhan Wani’s killing. He told Barkha Dutt on NDTV 24×7, in a programme aired on 18 August 2016, that he remained a silent spectator for a month, but once he saw pellet-hit children lying on hospital beds in distress and pain, something stirred within him. He saw the future of the young steeped in darkness and their dreams crushed.

Book Extract, Books, Culture, Non-Fiction, People, Society

By Gowhar Geelani

July 30, 2019

The Untouchable Brahmin who fought Kalpathy’s Orthodoxy

At a recent global conclave for Tamil Brahmins in Kochi, mainly comprising of the residents of Kalpathy agraharam in Palakkad, Justice V Chitambaresh of the Kerala High Court, standing from his twice-lofty position, both as a judge and a Brahmin, held forth about the twice-born Brahmin: “Now, who is a Brahmin?” he asked, “A Brahmin is dwijhanmana—because of poorva janma sukridham (good deeds of the past life), he is twice born. According to the judge, a Kalpathy Brahmin, the Brahmin has certain distinct characteristics: clean habits, lofty thinking, sterling character, vegetarian and a lover of Carnatic music.

Though his statements raked up a huge controversy, no one remembered Krishna Swami, the Brahmin outcast from the same Kalpathy agraharam as Justice Chitambaresh, who had once earned the wrath of his own community for working among the untouchables. Krishna Swami was an untouchable Brahmin.

An untouchable Brahmin is an oxymoron but nothing else can describe the late freedom fighter, T R Krishna Swami, better. He was the founder of Sabari Ashram at Akathethara in Palakkad district, which was once widely known as Kerala’s Sabarmati. Presently an orphanage with humble settings, this institution was visited thrice by Mahatma Gandhi during his journeys to the South.

Culture, Features, Religion, Society

By K A Shaji

July 22, 2019

The Saint Factory: Kerala gets a fourth Saint; 27 waiting in line

Kerala has been churning out more saints for the Roman Catholic Church in the last decade than ever in its history. Even as Sr Mariam Thresia is being elevated as a saint this October, 27 other saints are waiting in line, all on the threshold of sainthood. It also helps that Pope Francis is on a canonization spree.

Just four years after the canonization of Fr Kuriakose Elias Chavara and Sr Euphrasia, it’s indeed a celebratory moment for the Catholics in the state as another Kerala-born nun is bestowed with Sainthood this October. The Vatican has announced that Sr Mariam Thresia, a Thrissur-native and founder of the Congregation of the Sisters of the Holy Family, will be canonized along with four others from around the world in October. Of the six saints from India (including Sr Mariam Thresia), four are from Kerala, with the other two being Mother Teresa and Fr Joseph Vaz, a Goa-born priest who was a missionary in Sri-Lanka.

Sr Mariam Thresia follows Sr Alphonsa, Fr Kuriakose Elias Chavara and Sr Euphrasia to join the lofty realm of sainthood from the Catholic community in Kerala. The canonization is significant as Mariam Thresia is the fourth from Kerala since 2008 to get elevated to sainthood. It may also be noted that the Catholics that are spread across three denominations in Kerala—Syro Malabar, Latin and Syro Malankara—constitute only a small portion of the 1.3 billion-strong global Catholic population.

Culture, Featured, Religion

By Babu K Peter

July 22, 2019

The Churches of India: History, Architecture and Legends

Contrary to popular belief, Christianity did not arrive in India with colonisation but is among the most ancient religions of the sub-continent. Interestingly, it is also said that Christians came to India sailing across the Arabian Sea and along the flourishing spice trade route not to trade but to escape persecution.

Sydney-based architectural historian, author, and photographer Joanne Taylor in her latest book The Churches of India, published by Niyogi Books, talks about her various fascinating discoveries about Indian churches—their history, architecture and legends.

Through her book, Joanne gives the reader a deep insight into the range of churches, from the grand to the humble, its architecture and history. In an interview with The Kochi Post, she speaks about her love for the country, the early arrival of Christianity, why she started on her book in Kerala and more.

Architecture, Books, Culture, Interview, Kerala, Religion

By Geetha Jayaraman

July 19, 2019

A Dalit critique of Article 15

I watched Article 15 with three fellow-Dalits—two stalwart Dalit activists and a female Ambedkarite poet. Does it reflect the marketing of this film as a credible anti-caste cultural text that we gravitated to the cinema halls? Many questions plague my mind.

Article 15 is a movie written and directed by an upper caste film maker unlike the movies of Ambedkarite film makers like Nagraj Munjule (Marathi), Pa Ranjtih (Tamil) or Mari Selvaraj (Tamil) whose films have successfully transcended glass ceilings.

The rape, murder and subsequent cover-up of evidence at the provocation of demand for a mere Rs3 increase in wages are reminiscent of Kilvenmani massacre—where a demand for a slightly higher wage by Dalit landless laborers resulted in a violent retribution from the dominant land owning castes—brilliantly documented in the novel by Indian English writer Meena Kandasamy inThe Gypsy Goddess. On the night of December 25, 1968, 44 Dalits (including 16 women and 23 children) were burnt alive by the upper caste landlords in Kizhavemani village in Tamil Nadu and that heinous act changed the political landscape of the state.

Culture, Movies

By Chandramohan S

July 5, 2019

Did Zaira Wasim succumb to religious Fundamentalists and Trolls?

Many years ago, I vaguely remember watching on Doordarshan a TV programme in which the sleuth, alerted by some noises inside a house, rings the doorbell pretending to be a postman. When the lady of the house appears, he slips a hand-written note to her in which he asks her if everything is fine. She takes a look at the paper and replies that all is okay, in writing. That’s enough for a discerning detective to smell a case there. As the investigator finds out later, the woman and her daughter were actually hostages in their own house whom he rescues.

Actor Zaira Wasim’s Instagram post announcing her retirement is much like the lady’s hand-written “okay” in the detective serial. It serves a purpose different than intended and raises more questions than answers. In her choosing to run a long and winding explanation to justify her decision lies the clue that needs deeper investigation.

Why did she take the trouble of penning the long post, when she always had the option to quit quietly by not taking up any new projects? Why the long-drawn-out explanations? Who is that note meant for— herself, her fans, or her trolls?

Culture, Gender, Movies, Opinion, Religion, Society

By Anuradha Sharma

June 29, 2019

Why MES is justified in enforcing the Niqab ban

When the Muslim Educational Society (MES) sent a circular on April 17, 2019, to its faculty and students across 152 institutions regarding the ban of niqab (face veil) on its campuses, it was hailed as a step in the right direction by the progressives. Predictably, it received severe backlash from the conservatives, stating that the move was against the right to the freedom of practicing one’s religion. But Dr. P A Fazal Gafoor remained unfazed in the face of severe criticism and threats. Gafoor argued that it was the institution’s decision to adhere to the dress code, bearing in mind what was acceptable to the civil society.

The Muslim Educational Society was established in Kozhikode, North Kerala, in 1964 under the leadership of Dr. P K Abdul Gafoor with the patronage of professionals and the business community in the area, with the primary aim of educating economically and socially backward Muslims. It now runs 152 institutions across Kerala and Tamil Nadu, including medical and engineering colleges, management institutes and schools for children with special needs. It has 85,000 students and 15000 staff members. MES has played an important role in transforming the educational landscape of North Malabar, which was also reeling under economic strife during the time of its inception. It encouraged more Muslim women from economically backward families to join the academic mainstream, thus empowering them to be financially independent.

This was also the time that the Mujahideen movement was making a lot of inroads into the reformation of Muslims in Kerala, to enlighten the masses on scientific lines and modern education. The Kerala Nadvathul Mujahideen (KNM) created a sort of cultural and educational renaissance in the Muslim community, distinguishing them from other Muslims across India by achieving high rates of literacy.

Culture, Gender, Kerala, Opinion, Politics, Religion, Society

By Husna Mohammad

June 24, 2019

The Mappilas of Malabar

There is in Kerala a fascinating legend featuring the Hindu sage Vararuchi and a pariah girl who bore him twelve children. The story is rich in metaphor, and to this day there are families along the coast that claim descent from one or another of their fabled offspring. The eldest, for instance, was raised a brahmin, while the youngest, who oddly had no mouth, is venerated as a temple deity. One son was a celebrated master carpenter, folklore connecting him to shrines across Kerala, while another was a madman whose chief delight lay in rolling a boulder uphill, only to watch it tumble down, over and over. Yet another brought to his esteemed Brahmin brother’s feast beef to eat, while one more of Vararuchi’s tribe settled as a trader. And in a tale that weaves together brahmins and Nairs, a deity as well as a dalit, it is this sibling, Uppukoottan, who introduces a final interesting identity. For Uppukoottan, son of Vararuchi, is believed to have been raised a Mappila, adhering not so much to his father’s Hindu traditions as to the word of the Prophet Muhammad.

While to some the presence of a Muslim in a popular Hindu legend might seem outlandish, to Malayalis the story is by no means unusual. After all, across the length and breadth of Kerala, history and legend are united in featuring Muslims (and Christians) prominently in a shared cultural universe. Arabs had mastered the seas even before the Prophet was born, and soon after its dawn, Islam was delivered to Kerala through long-standing channels of commerce. The oldest mosque in the region, for instance, is said to have been established in the lifetime of the Prophet himself, in 629 CE, though archaeologists quibble about the exact age of the structure. By 849 CE, at any rate, Muslim traders were consequential enough to witness a royal grant (made, incidentally, to Christians), their signatures inscribed in archaic Arabic. When Ibn Battuta, the Moroccan diarist, came here in the course of his travels, he saw men from Persia in settlements along the coast, and one of the most beautiful mosques in Calicut, the turquoise blue Mishkal Palli, was founded soon afterwards by a commercially prolific merchant who began his life and career in faraway Yemen.

The influence of the Mappilas, born from the union of Arabs with local women as well as from subsequent conversions, quickly found reflection in Kerala’s already diverse culture. Some of the principal officials of the Zamorin of Calicut were Muslims, and in the great Mamankam festival at Tirunavaya—the most important religious gathering in Kerala till the eighteenth century—Muslims participated in the colourful revelries just as they did in formal royal ceremonies. At Sabarimala, where hundreds of thousands converge to worship the Hindu god Ayyappa, homage is also paid to Vavar, the deity’s Muslim friend whose name sounds (painfully to some) like Babur. The language of the Mappilas, meanwhile, developed into a unique blend of Malayalam sound and Arabic script, influenced over time by Persian as well as by Tamil and Kannada. Their architecture, too, absorbed Kerala’s indigenous style—the oldest mosques feature no domes or minarets, bearing instead the gables and tiled roof that crown temples and even Christian churches from this era. The nerchchas of the Mappila community, celebrating saints and divines, resemble Hindu festivals—the tall brass lamp, the elephants, bright parasols and fireworks, all integral to the temple pooram as much as to these Muslim commemorations. There is even, in fact, a Mappila Ramayana, featuring Ravana as a sultan; Surpanakha’s proposition to Rama in this version seeks sanction from the Sharia.

Book Extract, Books, Culture, History

By Manu Pillai

June 12, 2019

Reign of Akbar: Open Doors of Inquiry

Akbar probed into open-mindedness from the very beginning of his career. However, his secular views surfaced clearly sometime around 1580. Thereafter, his acceptance of and respect for other faiths was so unconditional that the voice of orthodoxy, Abdul Qadir Badaoni, and the Christian Jesuits declared that perhaps he was not a Muslim. Shaikh Ahmad Sarhindi went a step further and claimed that Akbar had not only deviated from Islam, but he hated it.

A simple explanation for Akbar’s liberalism is often located in the claim that his mother was a Shia and therefore he was exposed to the idea of balancing differences of creed from early childhood. However, Iqtidar Alam Khan opines that Hamida was not a Shia, since her brother Mu’azzam Beg was involved in the assassination of Humayun’s Shia Wazir Khwaja Sultan Rushdi (1546), and the killing was understood to be the design of orthodox Sunni bigots.
This shifts the focus towards other early influences on the Baadshah’s mind— and in this context the role of his tutors seems noteworthy. Two of them were Irani Shias—Bairam Khan and Mir Abdul Latif Qazvini—and the third was a Sunni Turani, Munim Khan. Luckily, all of them were above sectarian prejudices. In fact, if one digs deeper, beyond the general liberality of Akbar’s immediate ancestors one finds the roots of toleration in the Mongol traditions.

The cultural ethos of the Timurids promoted broad-mindedness. Timur respected all religions and Shias were never persecuted in the Timurid principalities. The Yasa-i Chingezi was literally a guidebook of the Timurids and according to Alauddin ‘Ata Juwaini, it required the ruler ‘to consider all sects as one and not to distinguish them from one another.’ According to Juwaini, Chengiz Khan refrained from bigotry, communal preferences and discriminatory policies. In fact, Iqtidar Alam Khan attributes Akbar’s persecution of the Shias and Mahdavis (1560) to the erosion of the influence of Yasa-i-Chingezi. In the 1560s, the Chishti Khanqahs (hospices) had introduced Akbar to a liberal way of thinking. In addition to his regard for Khwaja Muinuddin Chishti of Ajmer, he was particularly indebted to Shaikh Salim Chishti of Sikri. After the death of many of his newly born children, Akbar left one of his pregnant queens at the Shaikh’s khanqah at Sikri and requested him to pray for the birth and survival of an heir.