Delhi: J
Delhi: Jama Masjid
Title and authorship of the original article(s)
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Keeping the faith By Professor Mushirul Hasan, Dawn, March 11, 2007) |
This is a newspaper article selected for the excellence of its content. |
Professor Mushirul Hasan pays tribute to an achitectural extravaganza.
A coffee-table book about Delhi’s Jama Masjid.
About 500 metres west of the Red Fort stands an enduring monument to Shah Jahan’s passion — the Jama Masjid, an extraordinary specimen of architectural extravaganza built during the years 1650-1656. On its completion, it symbolised the high point in Mughal architecture. The following description is useful:
The Jumma Masjid stands upon a rocky eminence at the back of the Chandni Chouk .... “The little hill upon which it stands was originally a high conical point of rock; but no undertaking being too great for the architects of the days in which it was built, the upper part of the rock was cut away, and made serviceable in filling in below; and thus a large table surface was obtained, upon which the foundation of the present building was laid. This was executed in the year 1632 [sic], by order of Shah Jahan, then reigning, and the mosque itself, so deservedly admired by all, for its exquisite symmetry, is said to have been the emperor’s own design ... ” (Bacon, 1998)
Take one of the three pyramidal flights of steps on the east, north or south leading up to the main courtyard that has a large marble tank. Here the devout wash before offering their prayer. Once you mingle with them you realise why the great mosque has become a spiritual oasis.
The grandfather of Maulvi Zakaullah, the historian at the Delhi College, died in sijda performing the namaz. His family believed that Allah had blessed him and ensured his place in paradise. “Mir Mahdi,” wrote Mirza Ghalib in solemnity, “have you forgotten my accustomed ways? Have I ever once missed listening to the recitation of the Quran at the Jama Masjid during the blessed month of Ramzan? How could I stay in Rampur during Ramzan?”
More generally, Muhammad Iqbal describes the impact of azaan in the following lines:
Suddenly rose the prayer-call, And overflowed heaven’s lake; That summons at which even Cold hearts of mountains quake.
Again, the glory and splendour of the Masjid beckons — from sunrise to sunset — the faithful to unite in congregation and reinforces Iqbal’s assertion that the slave and master perform the namaz under the same roof.
Ek hi saf mein khare ho gaye Mahmud-o-Ayaz Na koi banda raha aur na koi banda nawaz
Today, the same Masjid … stands majestically on top of a large hill. It symbolises many things to many people, a site of religious piety and devotion, for example. To some, it is also a vibrant symbol of secular India, a country inhabited by nearly 140 million Muslims whose religious rights are safeguarded by a constitution that is both democratic and secular. When the muezzin calls the faithful to prayer five times a day, scores of people hurriedly walk through the crowded bazaars to take the flight of stairs leading to the spacious courtyard of the Jama Masjid. This is a testimony of living Islam in the Indian environment.
The great mosque has witnessed the changing fortunes of Shahjahanabad, ‘the Sovereign City in Mughal India’ from 1639-1739. It started with the steady decline of the Mughal Empire, followed by its final denouement. Thanks to Lord Lake, the British presence was felt in the early days of the 19th century. Soon, stories of their stranglehold over Aurangzeb’s inept successors began circulating in the bazaars. The anti-British pamphlet plastered on the Jama Masjid — Risala-i Fathai-Islam — offered a flicker of hope to just a handful who sought to oust the ferenghis from Shahjahanabad. But the 1857 uprising burst like a bubble.
Delhi was stormed on September 14, 1857. The minarets of Jama Masjid, a mute witness to the plight of a beleaguered Bahadur Shah, the last Mughal Emperor, saw it all. A few days later, the Masjid itself was taken over. Officers and soldiers clambered up the minaret and “saw the whole city and country like a map below our feet; all Delhi was ours”. They danced about, drank beer and brandy, and lit fire in the mosque. More celebration took place at the home of Colonel Baird Smith. Midnight came, corks popped, fireworks exploded.
From the top of the ridge an officer in the Engineering Corps gazed down at a picturesque city: the red walls and fine gateways of the palace, the splendid Jama Masjid, the red walls with the bastions, the Yamuna with its green banks; “altogether a beautiful and most interesting view”. By October, many of the structures between Lal Qila and the Masjid were razed to the ground to provide the fort a clear field of fire. “Where is Delhi?” Mirza Ghalib anguished. “By God, it is not a city now. It is a camp. It is a cantonment … I tell you without exaggeration,” he told his friend, “that from the Jama Masjid to the Rajghat Gate is a barren wilderness, and if the bricks piled here and there were taken away it would be absolutely bare.” The British seized the Jama Masjid, sold the Fatehpuri Masjid to a banker, and used the Zinat-ul Masjid as a bakery. Mirza Ghalib, living in Gali Qasimjaan, bemoaned:
The walls and doorways of my house are mourning Are as meadows overgrown with grass; Where is the spring, why ask how the autumn looks?
The Jama Masjid remained under British occupation until 1862. To one of his friends, Ghalib reported: “News of the King’s death appeared in Awadh Akhbar, but I’ve not seen it confirmed anywhere ... They say that the Jama Masjid is to be given back. I shouldn’t be surprised if it’s true.” Finally, on December 16, 1862, he informed the same friend, “You seek news of Delhi and Alwar accept my greetings. The Jama Masjid has been returned. On the steps of the Chitli Qabar side, the kabab-sellers have set up shops, and eggs and hens and pigeons are on sale.”
The Masjid would have been levelled to the ground if Lord Palmerton had his way. Some wanted a Christian cathedral to be built in its place. But better sense prevailed. Canning, the British viceroy, urged the prime minister not to ask for anything to be done against the religion of either race. Other officials scotched the proposal to remove the tank of the Jama Masjid for the convenience of the Punjab Infantry, and ordered that the infantry be shifted from the Masjid to the cattlesheds in Daryaganj.
Except for a flurry of activity during the Khilafat movement in the early 1920s, when Swami Shraddhanand spoke from Jama Masjid’s pulpit, an eloquent testimony to Hindu-Muslim amity then, life in and around the mosque remained generally quiet after the 1857 tumult. The British wielded the big stick to drive out the recalcitrant elements and reduced their detractors into submission or willing collaborators. From the 1860s onwards, the winds of the nationalist ferment did not blow across Shahjahanabad, though a few sporadic outbursts caused concern in bureaucratic circles. In general, the imperial progress became smooth and steady. This was exemplified by the state entry of King George V, crowned emperor of India on December 12, 1912. Astride a horse on a perfect winter’s day with a bright sun, blue sky and cool breeze, his procession passed through Red Fort between the stately fort and the gleaming domes of Jama Masjid ...
This elaborate and grand extravaganza turned out to be the last one. As the Indian flag fluttered on the ramparts of the Red Fort, once the site of the trial of Bahadur Shah Zafar, the last Mughal Emperor, the curtain was drawn on the British Empire ...
The Jama Masjid is a sacred Muslim site. It will remain so. ________________________________________ Excerpted with permission from Jama Masjid: Call of the Soul By N.L. Batra Niyogi Books. Available with Oxford University Press, Plot # 38, Sector 15, Korangi Industrial Area, Karachi Tel: 111-693-673
ISBN 81-901936-3-5 161pp. Rs2,460
Professor Mushirul Hasan is vice chancellor of the Jamia Millia Islamia in New Delhi, India.
N.L. Batra works with the Archaeological Survey of India.
