Monday, May 29, 2017

From Ramayana to the scriptures, it's clear India has a long history of eating meat

Food and culture

The Vedas refer to about 50 animals deemed fit for sacrifice and, by inference, for eating.


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Wellcome Library, London

Apr 10, 2017 · 12:30 pm

Mrinal Pande

Folks with infantile minds keep laying down laws for what is dharma and the true path and what is holy or unholy, says Matsyendranath (the guru of Gorakhnath who laid the foundations for the Nath sect in North India), in his seminal treatise Akulveer Tantra (78-87). One doesn’t know if his present-day follower, the newly incumbent chief minister of Uttar Pradesh, Adityanath, would agree, but according to Guru Matsyendranath, to gain true knowledge is to rise above various petty rules and definitions propagated in the name of dharma. Kaulopanishad, the shorter but even more intense treatise of the Kaul Siddhanta (yes, the Kashmiri surname derives from it), goes a step further and says the only thing that is forbidden is badmouthing others (lok ninda). Real self-knowledge, adhyatma, means observing no fasting, feasting or rules thereof, and no desire for founding a sect. All are created equal and one who realises this becomes truly free (mukt).

The present-day political dispensation, blinded as it is by its politicised and reductive vision of things, including vegetarianism, would do well to look towards the true Indian culture foreign to its lunatic fringes, and one that they are unable to absorb. My mother’s teacher, the great scholar Hazari Prasad Dwivedi, once used a wonderful term from the Shakta Tantra for a true understanding of history. He called it shav sadhana, a term used by a tantrik sadhaka to explain to him that to gain true knowledge (siddhi), one needs to find and straddle a dead body at a masan (cremation ground, a spot where all lives have been reduced to ash) and then meditate, shutting out everything around him. It is a long and tedious process during which evil forces try their best to distract the seeker with half-truths, but if he can remain detached and focused, at some point the head of the corpse will turn completely around and as it faces the constant sadhaka, address and explain the quintessential wisdom, setting all his queries at rest. Picture this: pure knowledge being passed on through an inert form with the head at an angle of 360 degrees, offering no attachment either to the old or the new, the traditional or the practised forms of life. This, Hazari Prasad Dwivedi writes, is knowledge that sets one free.

It is only against this rather long philosophical context (the Sanskrit for philosophy is darshan, meaning to see) that the highly incendiary subject of the long history of meat eating in India can be understood properly.

History of meat-eating

There is enough historical evidence by now that Indians since the days of the Indus Valley have indulged in dishes made with meat and poultry: zebu cattle (humped cattle), gaur (Indian bison), sheep, goat, turtle, ghariyal (a crocodile-like reptile), fish fowl and game. The Vedas refer to more than 250 animals of whom about 50 were deemed fit to be sacrificed and, by inference, for eating. The marketplace had various stalls for vendors of different kinds of meat: gogataka (cattle), arabika (sheep), shookarika (swine), nagarika (deer) and shakuntika (fowl). There were even separate vends for selling alligator and tortoise meat (giddabuddaka). The Rigveda describes horses, buffaloes, rams and goats as sacrificial animals. The 162nd hymn of the Rigveda describes the elaborate horse sacrifice performed by emperors. Different Vedic gods are said to have different preferences for animal meat. Thus Agni likes bulls and barren cows, Rudra likes red cows, Vishnu prefers a dwarf ox, while Indra likes a bull with droopy horns with a mark on its head, and Pushan a black cow. The Brahmanas that were compiled later specify that for special guests, a fattened ox or goat must be sacrificed. The Taittireeya Upanishad praises the sacrifice of a hundred bulls by the sage Agasthya. And the grammarian Panini even coined a new adjective, goghna (killing of a cow), for the guests to be thus honoured.

The meat, we learn, was mostly roasted on spits or boiled in vats. The Brihadaranyaka Upanishad has reference to meat cooked with rice. Also the Ramayana, where during their sojourn in the Dandakaranya forest, Rama, Lakshmana and Sita are said to have relished such rice (with meat and vegetables). It is called mamsambhutdana. In the palace at Ayodhya, during the sacrifices performed by king Dashratha, the recipes described are far more exotic with acid fruit juices being added to mutton, pork, chicken and peacock meat and cloves, caraway seeds and masur dal also being added to various dishes. The Mahabharata has references to rice cooked with minced meat (pistaudana) and picnics where various kinds of roasted game and game birds were served. Buffalo meat was fried in ghee with rock salt, fruit juices, powdered black pepper, asafetida (hingu) and caraway seeds, and served garnished with radishes, pomegranate seeds and lemons.

Then come the Buddhist Jatakas and Brahtsamhita (6th Century CE) that maintain the list of non-vegetarian food items, adding some more species. All in all, meat till then appears to have been deemed a nourishing food. It is even recommended by the famed physician Charaka for the lean, the very hard working and those convalescing from a long illness. The Jains, of course, remained totally averse to devouring any form of life. But the Buddha did not forbid the eating of meat if offered as alms to Buddhist bhikkus, provided the killing should not have happened in the presence of the monks. It was the responsibility of the giver of the alms to ensure this.

No inhibitions down south

Down south, the inhibitions against eating meat and fish are rare. In the earliest writings on food dating back to 300 CE, pepper (kari) is described as the main spice for flavouring meat. Fried meat had three names and meat boiled with tamarind and pepper was called pulingari. It was occasionally ground to make a sort of pasty relish. Kapilar, the famous Brahmin priest of the Sangam age, speaks with a certain relish of consuming meat and liquor. Old Tamil has four terms for beef: valluram, shushiyam, shuttiraichi and padithiram. There were 15 names for pork, a special favourite, we learn, among the wives of traders in the coastal region. There are also references to wild boar, rabbits and deer being hunted with hunting dogs. Captured boars were fattened with rice flour and kept away from the female to make their flesh tastier. Among more exotic meats were porcupines (a favourite of the Kuruvars) and fried snails (favoured by the Mallars). Down south, there was also no taboo on eating domestic fowl (kozhi). Fish and prawns were greatly relished all along the coastal region, so much so that the word for fish, meen, also entered the lexicon of Sanskrit as the north learnt to relish this fruit of the seas.

Contrary to prevalent notions, the Ayurvedacharyas did not deem meat as avoidable. The Sushrut Samhita compiled by the physician sage Sushruta lists eight kinds of meats. The Manasollas, a treatise ascribed to the 13th century king Someshwara, similarly gives pride of place to the chapter on food entitled Annabhoga. It refers to nuggets of liver roasted or fried and then served with yogurt or a decoction of black mustard, to pigs roasted whole with rock salt and pepper with a dash of lemon and served carved in strips resembling palm leaves.

There are no fewer than three great artistic works in Hindi that, like the panels of a tryptich, portray the hellish vision of things for this century: Yashpal’s Jhootha Sach, Rahi Masoom Raza’s Adha Gaon and Bhisham Sahni’s Tamas. The Yogi’s Raj had only to make its entrance to mime what fiction had already imagined.

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Source: scrollin

Tuesday, May 09, 2017

Past Continuous: Two Judgements That Held the Constitution Above Parliament

By Nilanjan Mukhopadhyay on 09/05/2017

A fortnightly column reflecting on chapters of India’s political past that are relevant today.

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Jawaharlal Nehru signing the Indian constitution. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

In recent years, the relationship between the executive and judiciary has not been at its cordial best and allegations of judicial overreach have flowed unremittingly. On several occasions, the highest members of the judiciary have also expressed disappointment over the executive’s failure to address issues hampering legal benches. Trust, confidence and deference, initially the foundation of this relationship between the vital pillars of the state, is regrettably conspicuous in its absence.

Several members of this government – and the previous one(s) – nurse a grouse that the judiciary habitually appropriates powers of executive. This allegation finds support among even non-partisan legal luminaries as several judgements bear witness to the judiciary’s tendency to overstep judicial activism.

By straying beyond the proverbial Lakshman rekha, the judiciary provided justification to the executive’s purpose of ‘subduing’ it. Blatant attempts to undermine the judiciary, in turn a threat to Indian democracy’s basic character, unfortunately has majority approval. Ironically, this government is pursuing the aim first articulated by an ideological adversary – the self-proclaimed leftist in Indira Gandhi’s government, Mohan Kumaramangalam.

In 1973, stung by judiciary stymieing his prime minister’s intention of amending the constitution at will, Kumaramangalam, the minister for steel, went beyond his ministerial brief and propounded the concept of “committed judiciary”. The sordid episode of supersession of eminent judges was a result of such thinking. Since then, several attempts were made to ensure compliance of the judiciary and get judges to accept harmonising between legislature and executive as their primary task. Few politicians, especially when part of establishment, openly advocate necessity for a “committed judiciary”, but there is no dearth of those who covet it.

However, post-independence, it was not always like this. Jawaharlal Nehru had reservations on the judiciary’s interpretation of the constitution – this even led to the first amendment on the freedom of expression – but he displayed ample respect.

The script began going awry exactly half a century ago, in 1967, when the Supreme Court delivered its verdict in the Golaknath case. The bitter confrontation between the judiciary and executive in its wake continued for more than six years till the judgement in the Kesavananda Bharati case in 1973. This judgement thereafter has provided protection to the basic character of the constitution.

Between February 1967 and April 1973, the government made a concerted bid to ensure the parliament had uncontrolled powers to amend or abridge any part of the constitution, including the fundamental rights. Recalling this chapter in governance and relationship between the judiciary and executive becomes imperative because of the return of one-party dominance and similarities in the personalities of Gandhi and Narendra Modi. However, this narrative has to be framed within the political timeline of the period.

The Golaknath verdict was delivered within days of the verdict of the fourth Lok Sabha elections that renewed Gandhi’s tenure as the prime minister. Yet, despite a majority in the parliament, the Congress lost power in several states. Besides forming coalition governments in several states, and the weakening political and moral authority of Congress, Gandhi was caught in a bitter power struggle within her party. But she was intent on forging her own destiny. To secure her objective, Gandhi sought unrivalled power and an amended constitution. She also sought a favourable judiciary.

The Golaknath case stemmed from the family (of the same name) challenging acquisition of their farmlands in Punjab under land ceiling laws. The case predated her tenure but became a constitutional landmark. It triggered political upheaval because the family challenged acquisition of their land on grounds it violated their fundamental right to hold and acquire property and practice any profession.

The Golaknaths also contended attachment of lands denied them equality and equal protection as constitutionally guaranteed. The case raised the vital question: can fundamental rights be amended or not? The 11-judge bench in this case examined its own five-judge verdict in a previous case (Sankari Prasad vs Union of India) when the court ruled parliament had the right to amend any part of the constitution.

Eventually, the apex court reversed its previous verdict and now declared that parliament did not have the right to amend fundamental rights, in part or in whole. The court also ruled that despite it being the parliament’s duty to enforce the directive principles of state policy, this could not be done by altering fundamental rights. Gandhi viewed the ruling as an obstacle in her attempt to secure absolute political control.

In July 1969, two years and five months after the Golaknath verdict, as part of her political offensive, Gandhi nationalised 14 banks. The decision was promptly challenged and in less than seven months the Supreme Court struck down the decision. A few months later, Gandhi abolished privy purses but this too was termed illegal by Supreme Court in December 1970.

Concluding that by now the people were on her side, Gandhi dissolved the parliament and hurried into India’s first snap poll in March 1971. Though she decimated the grand alliance and secured a huge victory, the three successive unfavourable judicial verdicts still stung her.

Bent on humbling the judiciary, Gandhi moved a series of constitutional amendments providing government with untrammelled right to limit, alter or even abolish fundamental rights. An American journalist reported that she was “moving to become the most powerful woman in the world” and “under cover of India war preparations” she was establishing a “socialist dictatorship on the pattern of Soviet Union.”

The Statesman‘s editorial was more ominous, “The implications are breath-taking. Parliament now has the power to deny the seven freedoms, abolish constitutional remedies available to citizens and to change the federal character of the Union.”

Of the three constitutional amendment bills – the 24th, 25th and 26th – the first enabled to override the Golaknath judgement, while the other two circumvented judicial verdicts on bank nationalisation and privy purses. As part of the Twenty-fourth Amendment, Articles 13 and 368 of the constitution were amended. While the former waived off applicability of the article to amendments made in the latter, Article 368, in its amended form, provided power to the parliament to amend any part of the constitution.

With the amendments, the government circumvented the hurdles posed by the three ‘troublesome’ verdicts. But Gandhi’s troubles with the judiciary did not end as chief of a mutt in Kerala challenged the state government’s order restricting his power to manage properties of the institution. The wheels of justice were turning slowly but as subsequent events demonstrated, the grind was exceedingly fine.

Kesavananda Bharati vs State of Kerala, as the case is called in the annals of Indian judicial history, got its name from the pontiff of the mutt (though he never met his counsel Nana Palkhivala) and also went to the apex court. Because this case too related to the scope of the power of amendment of the constitution under Article 368, it was heard by a 13-judge bench, undoubtedly to give it greater authority than the 11-judge bench in the Golaknath case. In April 1973, when the apex court pronounced its judgement, the bench was split vertically with seven judges in majority and six against, just as the previous case was decided by a six-five majority.

The Kesavananda Bharati judgement overruled the Golaknath verdict and gave back to the parliament the right to amend the constitution provided its “basic structure” was not altered. For the government this was half a victory – it won the basic case, but still did not have unrestrained powers to ‘tamper’ with the constitution. The verdict had takeaways for both sides but the most important victory was undoubtedly for the object of the legal clash – the Indian constitution and the right to alter its fundamental spirit.

Unambiguously, the court ruled that the “basic structure” was sacrosanct. This judgement has since given strength to the constitution and provides basis for the faith that return of one-party dominance will not undermine the Indian constitutional system.

Yet, half a century after the Golaknath case triggered a determined bid by the government of the day to change laws as it willed, the entire episode stands as a reminder of the future dangers. The importance of the Kesavananda Bharati judgement notwithstanding, it left ambiguity regarding the “basic structure”, which was not defined.

The abstraction of the concept notwithstanding, events over the six-year period ensured Supreme Court’s emergence as one of the most powerful judicial institutions in the world. These proceedings settled that the parliament is the creature of the constitution and not the other way around. But this conclusion cannot be taken for granted in contemporary India. When institutions are subverted, does it take much time for consensus on ideas to be cast away?

Nilanjan Mukhopadhyay is a Delhi-based writer and journalist, and the author of Narendra Modi: The Man, The Times and Sikhs: The Untold Agony of 1984. He tweets @NilanjanUdwin

Source: thewire

Friday, April 28, 2017

DNA Micro Edit: Honour killing, a sheer act of cowardice and chauvinism

dnaindia

Sat, 29 Apr 2017-07:40am , DNA

A decade ago, the Manoj-Babli murder case in non-descript town of Kaithal in Haryana made honour killing a household name.

The brutal killing of this newly-wed couple on the diktat of a khap panchayat, or better put kangaroo court, shook the conscience of the nation, bringing in spotlight patriarchy and how firmly it shackles the society.

Young lives are callously snuffed out by family members to protect their false sense of honour, an honour which is so shallow and weak that it is slighted if one falls in love with a person outside his caste/religion or in the same village.

As the clamour for death penalty for honour killing surfaces now and then, this savage act continues unabated, the perpetrators shaming us with their lack of psychic mobility. We do not hesitate in gloating about our scientific, technological and economic achievements, but it is rather unfortunate to know that we are still steeped deep in orthodoxy and living in Stone Age. Khaps are law unto themselves, pronouncing orders on life and death of innocent beings, drunk on false notions of machismo and arrogance.

It is not just avenging a hurt ego but more about punishing a woman, the one who is still seen as subservient to man, for daring to exercise her own free will and make her own choice.

What better way to feel omnipotent that to unleash unspeakable violence on her? The barbarians, however, fail to see that it does not make them any powerful, neither does it add to their honour. It is an act of sheer cowardice, committed by men who have refused to either change or grow with time, impotent men hanging onto the last shreds of their chauvinism. Remember, there is no honour in honour killing.

Source: dnaindia

Sunday, April 23, 2017

How a Bundelkhand Farmer’s Engineering Innovation Was Ignored

By Bharat Dogra on 08/03/2017

Mangal Singh continues to display the potential to install many of his turbines, which can lead to a useful reduction in greenhouse gas emissions as well as costs.

thewire
A photograph of Mangal Singh’s ‘water wheels’ turbine in action. Source: Author provided

Mangal Singh is a 70-year-old farmer scientist who had received the admiration of top development officials and technocrats for his work nearly three decades ago. However, he has been left struggling since.

Singh’s brainchild is called the Mangal turbine. When he first built it, his ancestral village Bhailoni Lodh in Lalitpur district (in the Bundelkhand region of Uttar Pradesh) had an unending stream of visitors, including several top officials. B.K. Saha, then chief secretary of Madhya Pradesh, said that the turbine was cost effective, ecologically benign and had promising capacity to save on electricity and diesel. Another senior official, T.P. Ojha, the former deputy director general (engineering) of the Indian Council of Agricultural Research, commended the turbine for its “great promise and possibility of lifting river water for irrigation, fisheries, forestry and drinking purposes.”

A study by IIT Delhi and Vigyan Shiksha Kendra on water resources of Bundelkhand had said in 1998, “the Mangal turbine would prove a boon for fulfilling the energy needs of irrigation, agro-processing etc. in the rural sector where low water exists in the rivers/nallahs.” It called the turbine “a fine example of people’s inventiveness”.

Sarla Gopalan, an advisor to the erstwhile Planning Commission, visited the demonstration site on March 3, 1993, and called the device “an excellent example of energy conservation” while strongly recommending its popularisation.

Several MPs have commended the work of Mangal Singh and have rooted for it. In 2013, the prestigious Hall of Fame Award of Civil Society magazine was presented to Singh by Aruna Roy for his work.

Certificate_-_Civil_Society

However, despite these plaudits, Singh has experienced only neglect, victimisation and harassment since, which in turn led to a spate of allegations and petitions. To settle the matter, B.K. Sinha, the secretary of rural development under the Government of India, asked B.P. Maithani, former director of the National Institute of Rural Development, to inquire into the various issues in 2010. Maithani, along with another expert, visited Singh’s village and work area and studied the relevant documents, and submitted his evaluation.

This Maithani report concluded, “It is clear from the above account that sh. Mangal Singh was harassed and harmed in the process of implementation of the project…” and that “there is no case against Sh. Mangal Singh, who needs to be compensated for the losses suffered…”. The report also detailed how compensatory and remedial action could be taken.

However, officials tried to implement these so shoddily that Singh has been left still struggling for justice.

When he comes to Delhi from Bundelkhand he can be seen moving from one office to another, his ageing body burdened by a bagful of files and a laptop. He has told this author several times that he has lost hope. Despite his age, he has gone to many areas where there was some hope of installing his turbine, but conditions have been adverse: he has often had to travel with poor health, often using his own dwindling resources to meet expenses.

But all is not lost – yet. Singh continues to display the potential to guide a well-formulated program of installing a large number of his turbines, which in turn can lead to a useful reduction in greenhouse gas emissions as well as costs for farmers. As both these objectives have been becoming more significant by the day for contemporary India, there is a strong case for undoing the treatment accorded him.

Singh describes his turbine thus (paraphrased for clarity): The water-wheel turbine consists of a water wheel firmly mounted on a steel shaft and supported by two bearing blocks fixed on foundation supports. The shaft is coupled with a suitable gearbox through couplings for stepping up the speed of rotation. The output shaft of the gearbox is coupled on one end with a centrifugal pump for lifting water and the other end is mounted with a suitable pulley for deriving power for operating any machine.”

Singh adds that the “design of this water-wheel turbine is simple. It is available in different sizes to meet varying requirements. Operating this water-wheel turbine pump-cum-PTO [power take-off] machine is very easy as anyone can operate it by opening the wooden or steel gate valve. The machine is stopped by stopping the flow of water through the gate.”

He says his invention can be “used for pumping water from rivulets and streams on which it is installed. This machine can be used in addition for cottage industries like operating flour mills, sugarcane crushing, threshing and winnowing, oil expelling, chaff cutting, etc. By linking it to a generator, it can also provide electricity.”

Estimates have shown that the use of the turbine could substantially reduce the use of diesel and electricity – while also providing for a cleaner alternative to farmers. For example, using the turbine for 11 hours a day could be equivalent to running a 25-horsepower pump with 44 litres of diesel. According to Jai Shankar Singh, a former general manager at the National Bank for Agriculture and Rural Development, and D.S. Rajput, a former principal scientist at the Indian Council of Agricultural Research, this could also potentially cut down carbon dioxide emissions by more than 300 tonnes over six months.

Singh is also in a unique position train people to use his turbines because he has persevered with this idea for nearly three decades, visiting various Gujarat, Madhya Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Jharkhand, Rajasthan, Maharashtra, Jammu and Kashmir and West Bengal, all in an effort to have his turbine adopted.

Bharat Dogra is a freelance journalist who has been involved with various social movements and initiatives.

Source: thewire

What to Do as the Anniversary of a Loved One’s Death Approaches

Katie Medlock | April 22, 2017
Follow Katie at @offbeatherbivor

care2

The reason the twelve months following a loved one’s death is called “the year of firsts” is obvious, but how to get through those months and feel equipped to manage the anniversary of the loss isn’t always so clear. Grief is such a complicated experience, partially because it never truly resolves itself. Rather, it changes over time to resemble different paths—some difficult and others not so difficult.

Anticipating (or being blindsided by) the anniversary of a meaningful loss can leave us unsure of how to proceed. Just like other “stages” of grief, this time will likely look immensely different for each person—and that is okay. No one gets to decide what is the right way or wrong way to approach the anniversary of a loved one’s death; only the person experiencing it in their unique way gets to do this.

As we navigate life, we will all be faced with losses of those we love and admire. Here are some reminders to keep handy as these challenging dates roll by:

Trust yourself.

Media portrayals of grief can be both validating and vexing. Say, for instance, you would prefer to spend time by yourself as an anniversary approaches, but everything and everyone around you suggests you should participate in a memorial ceremony on that day, instead. What works for some does not necessarily work for others and it is our job to trust our guts when deciding the appropriate way to manage our grief.

Some people may prefer to spend time alone, with close friends, with family, at a movie theatre, at the park, curled up in bed, at a comedy show or at the spa. As long as you’re not harming yourself or someone else, there is no wrong way to spend this day. Trust yourself to know what is right for you and ask that those around you respect your wishes.

Be flexible.

Maybe your initial plans to spend the day visiting your loved one’s grave site or a mutually meaningful local spot sounded like just the ticket a week ago, but as the day approaches you realize you would much rather have an intimate dinner at home with a few close confidantes. Be flexible with yourself and do not judge if and when your needs change.

Have supports on stand-by.

If you are suspecting the anniversary of your loved one’s passing might be difficult, let someone you trust know. Even if you don’t end up giving them a call or asking them to drop by and talk, knowing that you have the option, if you need it, can be very comforting.

Having a date set up with your partner or a good friend for the next day (or a few days after) can also give you the time and space you need to reflect on how the anniversary affected you, and can offer the opportunity to process it with someone. If you have a counselor in your support system, consider scheduling an appointment before and after this time.

Decide for yourself what is “meaningful.”

Your personal connection with the person who has passed is unique. The ways you remember them, the things you love about them, the specific memories that make you laugh and ache—they all are experienced through your eyes. This means that whatever meaningful activity you would like to participate in as this anniversary approaches is valuable. Maybe it’s spending time in a place of worship, or cooking their favorite meal to enjoy with family, or visiting a park or monument of significance, or drinking a glass of their favorite lager while reading their favorite poem and reminiscing about the good times (my personal favorite). You get to decide what is a personally “meaningful” way to experience this day.

Give yourself permission.

There is no way to be 100 percent sure how this day will hit you. It might pass without a thought, it might feel devastating, or anything in between. The important thing to remember is that however you feel is valid. Give yourself permission to feel sad, indifferent, angry, lethargic, motivated, sullen or relieved. Walk into the next day without judgment on how you handled the day before. You can do this.

Source: care2

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Advani, Joshi and others to be tried for criminal conspiracy. What does this mean

R Venkataraman | Updated on: 19 April 2017, 15:22 IST

catchnews
(File photo)

The Supreme Court of India on 19 April revived criminal charges against a score of BJP leaders, including former deputy prime minister LK Advani, former BJP president Murli Manohar Joshi, Union Water Resources Minister Uma Bharti and Rajasthan Governor Kalyan Singh, in the Babri Masjid demolition case.

The judges came to the decision after the Central Bureau of Investigation appeal against the Allahabad High Court’s decision to acquit the politicians. The agency wanted them put on trial in the case, accusing them of being part of a larger conspiracy. On 6 March, the court had asked the CBI to file a supplementary chargesheet against the accused, including the conspiracy charges.

The immediate political fallout of this decision may see Uma Bharti stepping down, but the SC observed that no case will be registered against Singh as he has immunity as a governor. Singh can be tried once he is no longer in office.

The Supreme Court also clarified that no fresh trial is needed and the proceedings would continue from where it was stopped vis-à-vis these leaders.

'Common intention'

The BJP leaders now face the serious charge of “criminal conspiracy” to demolish the mosque - that even prior to 1992, they has conspired to demolish the mosque. Criminal conspiracy requires two or more people towards a “common intention”.

The CBI claims to have evidence that these accused met in 1990 itself, two years before the demolition of the mosque, to conspire to raze it to the ground and hence it was premeditated and deliberate and hatched a conspiracy to implement the plan so that it would appear that an angry mob of “unknown” persons in a spur of the moment razed the mosque. Hence, they chose to keep a distance from the mosque, although the distance was 200 metres and made it appear that they were not near the mosque when it was destroyed.

However, the Allahabad High Court had refused to accept this CBI theory and upheld the trial court acquitting them of the criminal conspiracy charge. When the CBI made an appeal, the apex court revived the criminal charge and ordered that the trial court in Lucknow would complete the whole trial within two years.

The CBI has been ordered to ensure at least one witness is produced for examination and cross-examination each day.

The court revived the criminal conspiracy charges in the case against several other Hindutva leaders who had also been acquitted in the case. These include Vinay Katiyar, a BJP MP and the founder-president of the Vishwa Hindu Parishad’s youth wing Bajrang Dal, Sadhvi Ritambhara, former VHP senior Vice President Giriraj Kishore, Satish Pradhan, Champat Rai Bansal and Mahant Avaidyanath, mentor of present Chief Minister of Uttar Pradesh Yogi Adityanath. Kishore died in July 2014.

Source: catchnews