The reverend Christian
theologian was sitting in the upper room and preaching to a small community
that was gathered around him. This theologian had built a career around
inter-faith dialogue and was talking of how Christian sites were often built
over the sacred sites of other faiths. “For example”, he said “the Basilica of
Bom Jesus is built over the tank of a temple and can today be seen under the
altar of the church.”
This was about
as much as the angry young man could take. He sprang up and challenged the old
man. “You’ve got your facts all wrong” he charged. The Basilica was built on
the maidan outside of the walls of
the Bijapuri city of Goa. There was no temple there. And that’s not all, the
church you are referring to is the church of St. Cajetan. And here too you are
wrong. The church sits within what was the very heart of the citadel of the
fortified Bijapuri city. The well we see today is the result of the architect’s
attempt to drain the soil so that he could sink the massive foundations he
needed to raise the huge dome of St. Cajetan’s. Further, we need to decide who
were the bad guys, the ‘Muslims’ or the ‘Portuguese’, they both cannot have
destroyed the same temple can they? That is, if there was any temple destroyed
in the first place!”
That great
temples were destroyed and the Goan churches of today were raised over them is
a shibboleth of much popular Goan history. But this nugget of information may
be more myth than actual history. The churches of Old Goa, as has already been
pointed out, were built within the Bijapuri city of Goa, and if anything, the
churches were built over mosques. The Cathedral is reported built over the Jama
Masjid of the city.
The scene
becomes ever more complex if one leaves the urban contexts of the city of Goa
and heads into the villages that surrounded this core of Portuguese domination
in the sixteenth century. To begin with, most people make the mistake of
assuming that the countryside around the city was a Hindu space. This is a
popular misconception. The land was teeming not just with Hindus (that is to
say brahmanised castes) but with a variety of subaltern and untouchable groups,
as well as Muslims and other social and cultural groups. If sacred sites were
taken over, then these sites could have also belonged to groups beyond the
brahmanised castes. Indeed, because of what we know of the history of the location of Goan churches, one could safely assume that if a sacred site was
repurposed then it was the shrines of the marginal groups that suffered this
fate.
In his marvelous book Whitewash, Red Stone
that discusses the Goan-ness of churches in Goa, Paulo Varela Gomes makes the
astute observation that most of the early churches in Goa were not built in
village centres, but rather on the peripheries of villages. This was the case
because there was no centre in the European sense of the term. Rather, villages
were organised according to castes, each caste having its own little ward, set
apart from those of the others. Within such a society, Varela rather
persuasively suggests, rather than risk identifying the church with a
particular group, these priests built their churches outside of the villages in
spectacular locations. Think of the church of Penha da França, or that of
Curtorim. Where settlements do exist around these churches, whether in the case
of Margão or Chinchinim, these were later developments with the village
shifting toward the church, following the lead of powerful families that sought
to replicate European urban forms.
What then do we
make of the fond myths that have been told and retold for generations? Take the
case of Margão for instance. We are told that the (Brahmin) villagers of Margão
offered any space in the village for the church, but requested that their
temples be spared. Unheeding the Bishop is said to have cast a sword into the
air and toward the temple of Damodar causing this temple to be displaced to
make way for today’s Church of the Holy Spirit.
The strength of
this story rests on the conflation of the Damodar of the story with the great
lord of Zambaulim. There are, however, a number of crucial details in the
popular retelling of the foundation of the church in Margão that could tell us
a different story. According to legend, the Damodar in question was a brahmin
male who was killed on the outskirts of the village as he returned with his
bride after his death. Hell hath no fury like a brahmin spurned, even worse a
brahmin who has been killed before he could realise his desires. Their
tormented souls turn into Pisacha and
wreak havoc on the realm of the living. It was to pacify this soul, therefore,
that a shrine would have been built. A minor shrine to a demonic being is
different from a central shrine of a brahmanical deity patronised by the
dominant caste of the village. We can conclude therefore, that it was no great
temple that was destroyed in Margão, but if at all, a minor little marker,
perhaps not so different from the shrines (of all religions) that continue to
spring where a person has met a violent death.
Contrary to
widespread beliefs today, temples did not come up at the whim and fancy of
people. There was an entire cosmology that allowed for temples to emerge. To
sustain its growth the brahmanical order would first set up the temple of a
brahmanical or brahmanised temple. Other deities would then be constructed as
minor and hierarchical relations constructed between this main deity and the
minor deities. In this process, those who worshipped the inferior deity were
also crafted as inferior. This is another story, however, and it connects with
the theme of this column only to the extent of making the point that we need to
realise that very often, the missionaries chose to avoid sites of the dominant
castes and constructed their churches outside of village centres. The myth of
the destruction of temples to facilitate the building of churches over them
therefore needs to be revisited and systematically examined for the facts in
each case.
(A version of this post was first published in the Herald dated 13 June 2014)
1 comment:
Well researched and timely. Thank you for adding to intellectual discussion on the subject.
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