Let me summarize some of the concerns harboured (or where possible voiced) by Indians as the Indian state took a prominent part in the inauguration on January 22 of an incomplete temple for Ram (the north Indian spelling) or Rama (as south Indians write the name) on that precise site in the north Indian town of Ayodhya where a mosque had stood since the 16th century until its 1992 demolition by a violent mob.
Speaking for traditional Hinduism, the heads of two ancient and venerated monasteries have publicly declared that no Ram idol (or any other idol) can be infused with the life-force that makes an idol ready to be worshipped in an incomplete temple, which the Ayodhya temple clearly is, although the massive publicity that preceded and accompanied the inauguration strove to drown that fact. Others have asked whether a politician should perform the sort of religious ceremonial that a priest must conduct.
Speaking for India’s democracy, scholars have declared that more than one factor makes the inauguration unconstitutional. For one thing, in a secular state, a prime minister must not launch a place of worship for a particular religion, which is what Narendra Modi did on January 22. For another thing, a secular state must not spend the vast sums of money it did for the inauguration of a religious shrine. If there is no accountability for these unconstitutional acts, then, according to these scholars, it should be taken that secular, plural, and democratic India has become a Hindu state.
Speaking for aesthetic propriety, others have questioned the prominence of one individual in almost every frame of the inauguration’s state-sponsored presentation. Also, they ask those who favour the Hinduization of the Indian state if they are happy that one person seemed almost as central to the ceremony as the idol of the child Ram.
Speaking for life on the Indian street, some have focused on the likely reactions of India’s religious minorities, including Muslims, Christians, Sikhs, and Buddhists. To these observers, the assumption that every Indian should accept a Hindu god as a national god felt deeply offensive.
Speaking about history, some have pointed out that when, in 2019, India’s Supreme Court awarded to the Hindu side, for building a Ram temple, what until then was a disputed piece of land, that topmost court also declared that the 1992 demolition had been illegal. Also found illegal by the court was the surreptitious insertion of Ram idols in 1949, which was presented at the time, with knowing falsehood, as a supernatural event.
Speaking of the law of karma, others have suggested that deliberate untruths about events of history that have led to the grand temple that is coming up are bound to have consequences and can only sully the temple’s prestige.
Speaking of our understanding of Ram, it has been argued that insistence that the new temple is rising on the exact spot of Ram’s birth will invite inquiries about the year and century of Ram’s birth.
It will also underline a critical question: Is Ram a historical person who came and went? Or is Ram a name for the Eternal God who was, is, and always will be? A name by which crores of Indians try to invoke the Supreme Being, even as others cry out to Shiv, Krishna, Allah, Khuda, Jehovah, Waheguru, or God.