Division sums in Rajasthan

In the Mehrat and Rawat communities of the state, peace proved elusive

Some might feel the Rajasthan government8217;s recent move to pass a law banning religious conversions was long overdue, while others might call it an infringement of the fundamental right to religious freedom. But, undoubtedly, life after conversion in a backward hamlet can be traumatic.

I remember travelling to the south Rajasthan districts of Ajmer and Pali in 1992 for a cover story I was doing for a weekly magazine on a ten-year, meticulously executed programme of conversions. Traditionally, the colourful Mehrat and Rawat communities, living in the districts of Ajmer, Pali, Udaipur and Bhilwara, were a tolerant, homogenous community. Though predominantly Muslim 8212; following Muslim rituals like burial, the nikaah ceremony, the eating of halal meat and the abjuring of idol worship 8212; they celebrated festivals like Eid, Holi, Diwali and Shab-e-Baraat with equal fervour. But their peaceful lives were disrupted after the launch of an RSS-VHP programme to bring them back to the Hindu fold, with religion acquiring a new meaning.

After months of persuasion, the building of a temple, and a slew of development projects like hospitals, balwadis nurseries, where children aged six upwards were taught the fundamentals of Hindutva, and schools to initiate teenagers into Hinduism, the villagers succumbed. A three-hour-long film on legendary Rajput King Prithviraj Chauhan screened in a mobile van, reminded villagers of their Hindu lineage.

The campaign worked. Over a decade, close to 50,000 people were baptised as Hindus in a ritualistic ceremony called 8220;homecoming8221;. RSS worker Uma Shankar Sharma gloated over his achievement, putting it rather crudely, 8220;People wondered how we could bathe a donkey and transform it into a horse!8221;

Enticed by the propaganda, the new converts became misfits, unable to follow old social customs. As new convert Badami Devi, daughter of a devout Muslim family confessed,8221;Now my husband says it is a crime to celebrate Eid. We have stopped visiting each other even at festival time.8221; Hakim Singh, 28, earlier plain 8216;Hakim8217;, said simply, 8220;We Mehrats do not have any religion.8221; But unlike the earlier camaraderie and social equality, he had stopped even drinking water in a Muslim home after his conversion.

For the three converted Muslim families in Pali8217;s remote Niyabari village, life became a daily war of attrition. Initially, fellow villagers barred them from crossing their fields or drinking water from their wells. This was followed by a violent clash on Holi in which many converts suffered injuries, some fatal. Frightened out of their wits, the converts had to flee their homes for one and a half years. Later a posse of VHP workers camped in the village, dug a new well and intimidated the Muslims with a show of strength. The consequence? Boasted a VHP worker, 8220;They have now realised the VHP can retaliate powerfully.8221; Peace, finally, but at a price.

There has been no cessation of conversions since then, with the whole process escalating into a contest between different communities. In a region famed for communal amity and home to the inter-faith shrine of Ajmersharif, this could be regarded as sacrilege.