(The Indian Express, March 24, 2010)
by Imtiaz Ahmad
Bareilly’s history of communal harmony means the recent riots have been an anomaly. It shows, however, that while Muslims project themselves as a unity and are similarly perceived by others, this unity has never been real. In Bareilly, the fundamental cleavage has been between Barelwis and Deobandis.
This cleavage dates back to the 19th century, traceable to the theological line propagated by Ahmad Raza Khan who lived in Bareilly. He distinguished his theological line from Deoband, the theological seminary located further west, in Saharanpur — some whose followers he described as “Wahhabis”, after the reactionary religious movement which sought to rid Islam in India of local accretions. The Barelwis refer to themselves as “Sunnis”, implying thereby that the Deobandis and other groups are not. The Deobandis and other antagonists make similar claims about them.
The differences between the two groups are not merely theological. They relate as much to Islamic practice. The Barelwis are somewhat eclectic, insisting that many of the ritual practices found among Muslims as a result of local influences are perfectly tenable. For example, they allow the veneration of saints, as well as using saints as intercessors between God and man. They also endorse the ritual offering of obeisance to the dead. The Deobandis are strongly opposed to the persistence of such practices, regarding them as remnants of a Hindu past. They want to stamp out such ritual practices and purify Islam. The Tablighi Jamat, whose founder himself was a Deoband product, has been active in trying to dissuade Muslims from adhering to such accretions and emphasise the practice of Islam’s fundamentals.
These differences over theology and ritual practices have led to rioting and conflict not only in Bareilly, but also in other parts of the country where people of Barelwi persuasion are found in substantial numbers. Unlike Hindu-Muslim conflict, Bareilly has witnessed Barelwi-Deobandi riots on several occasions in the past. Over the years, the level of conflict has worsened. Each regards the other as non-believers or kaffirs. Mosques in Bareilly, and now in many other towns and cities, carry a signboard announcing that it is a Barelwi mosque and non-Barelwis cannot pray there. If missionaries of the Tablighi Jamat ever use the mosque to propagate their ideology, the mosque is washed and cleansed.
One incident eloquently brings out the mutual antagonism took place at a funeral prayer, at which people of both persuasions joined. The prayer leader was a Deobandi; Barelwi clerics subsequently pronounced that the nikah, or marriage contracts, of all the Barelwis who had joined the prayer were thereby annulled and they must go through the nikah ceremony with their spouses afresh. Such antagonism is more distinctly visible among society’s lower classes; upper classes, whether of Deobandis and Barelwis, recognise these differences but quite often ignore them for marriage and similar purposes.
What sustains such theological and ritual differences are each group’s madrasas, which claim to teach Islam to Muslims, but in practice they teach them Islam as propagated by their distinct theological line. The students in these madrasas come from poor families in backward areas. Soon enough, the relationship between these students and founders of madrasas build up into a strong patron-client relationship because of the material help they receive in the form of food and free education. Subsequently, these students go on to their own madrasas and end up becoming more loyal than the king, as it were, to the theological line in which they have been trained. Thus, the antagonism of faith is strengthened and spread far and wide.
The Barelwi cleric, Tauquir Raza Khan, tried some time ago to bring the two groups together. He started declaring that Muslims should take to martyrdom — meaning that irrespective of theological differences they should act as one. His position was soon contested by other Barelwis, who went on to exhort their theological brethren not to be misguided by Tauquir Raza Khan, not to join hands and interact with the Deobandis. Even a cataclysmic event like the riot could not succeed in bringing the two lines of persuasion together.
In the face of this glaring chasm, an explanation for the communal riot must be found in the changing dynamics of residential patterns in the city. Historically, Hindus and Muslims have lived interspersed in the city. With the emergence of large colonies on the outskirts, Hindus have been moving out to new colonies. Muslims are not averse to this development as it would reduce population pressure. The popularity of Varun Gandhi-style politics in the Bundelkhand region has added to the tussle. These appear to be more potent factors than any kind of Muslim communal solidarity.
The writer is a former professor of political sociology, JNU
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