I have always argued that Pasmanda Muslims, who make up nearly 80 per cent of India’s Muslim population, should not see themselves as the legacy bearers of past empires, least of all the Mughal Empire. It has never quite made sense to me—why should ordinary people, those far removed from the corridors of power, feel nostalgia, pride, or even pain over rulers who never represented them? What connection does a weaver in medieval India, or for that matter, his descendants today, have to the imperial ambitions of a dynasty that seldom acknowledged their existence?
And yet, history has a way of resurfacing, often not as memory but as conflict. In Nagpur, a full-blown riot has erupted over Aurangzeb’s tomb, which Hindutva groups are demanding be removed. The timing is hardly coincidental. The sentiments brewing over Chhaava, a film that depicts Aurangzeb’s atrocities against Sambhaji Maharaj, have reignited old hostilities, framing the era as a battle of Hindu defiance against Islamic rule. Once again, historical figures—long buried in textbooks and monuments—are being summoned to the present, not as subjects of scholarly debate but as catalysts for political tensions.
Some are blaming the film for stoking tensions, while others point fingers at the Hindutva protesters who burned an effigy of Aurangzeb, an act that spiralled into rumours that the flames consumed Quranic scripture along it. The response has been predictable—accusations flying in every direction, each side convinced of its own victimhood. Some see it as Muslim sympathy for a tyrant, others as Hindu groups manufacturing outrage for political mileage.
Meanwhile, social media is ablaze with a blame game that has long abandoned reason. Outrage, misinformation, and reactionary fervour drown out any space for thought. The battle over historical narratives has become more important than peace, social harmony, or even the lives of ordinary Indians. In this endless war of who was right and who suffered more, the present continues to bleed for a past that cannot be undone.
Also read: Digging up tomb doesn’t harm Aurangzeb. Shows our politics is primitive
Stop blaming movies
Blaming a movie, a piece of art, or literature for stirring sentiments has become an old and predictable game—one that plays out every time a narrative unsettles a particular group. Condemnation, censorship, and calls for bans have become reflexive responses, cutting across ideological and religious lines. Muslims have often led such matters, committing violence against films, books, and depictions they find offensive, but they are hardly alone in this cycle of outrage.
Let’s say Chhaava was riding the wave of Hindu nationalist sentiment, tapping into a growing trend of historical retellings that frame the past through religious conflict. Even so, how does that justify violence in the streets? The problem isn’t the movie—it’s a society that hasn’t learned to manage its reactions. A mature society debates, critiques, and disagrees—it does not riot, or turn historical grievances into present-day battlegrounds. Violence erupting at the slightest provocation says far more about the fragility of our collective psyche than about any single piece of art.
The ease with which riots erupt only proves that the real issue runs far deeper. This isn’t just about a film or a historical figure—it’s a cultural war, a symbolic expression of present-day tensions that gets channelled into debates over a past long gone. Every monument, every portrayal, every historical grievance becomes a proxy battlefield, a way to argue about today without saying it outright.
Symbolic steps have already been taken—renaming streets that were named after Aurangzeb, altering school syllabi, renaming the Mughal garden and reshaping historical narratives—but for many, that is still not enough. So where does it end and what would be enough? Or will the past continue to simply fuel another cycle of contention?
Also read: What you don’t know about Aurangzeb’s tomb. Shahuji’s visit, Sufi love for Ellora Temples
Who bears the brunt?
It feels like the nation’s energy is being wasted on the past, with so much left to build in modern India, others insist that cultural battles and rewriting historical narratives are just as important for shaping the country’s future. And yet, Aurangzeb remains anything but irrelevant. If anything, he looms larger than before, not as a figure of the past, but as a name that continues to stir outrage, debate, and political manoeuvring. If the goal was to erase his presence, it seems we are only ensuring that he never truly leaves the conversation.
Meanwhile, political actors who benefit from division and who forge their political power and capital from communal tension are more than happy to fuel this fire. The outrage over Aurangzeb isn’t just about history—it’s a smokescreen, a distraction from the very real Hindu-Muslim fault lines of today.
Abu Azmi will rush to defend and glorify Aurangzeb, while the other side will demand the removal of his tomb—both playing their predictable roles in a script that benefits only them. What could be more convenient for those who profit from polarisation? Their own children will never take to the streets, never face the consequences of the chaos they ignite. It is the ordinary Indian who will bear the brunt, caught in battles that serve everyone’s political ambitions except their own.
The reality is that a section of Muslims do see Aurangzeb in a favourable light and don’t see his tyrannical side. That is a battle of ideas within the community—a debate over what kind of figures should be upheld and what kind of identity Muslims should embrace. But in a climate of polarisation and reactionary politics, this internal discourse gets overshadowed by defensive posturing.
And Aurangzeb’s name is weaponised, turned into a symbolic stand-in for present-day Muslims, allowing his legacy to be used as a tool for reinforcing contemporary prejudices under the guise of historical justice.
At the same time, the other side also weaponises Aurangzeb’s name. It’s evidenced by slurs like “Aurangzeb ki aulad” (children of Aurangzeb), connecting Indian Muslims to a ruler and history they had no say in shaping.
If peace and coexistence are ever to be more than empty aspirations, the focus must shift from divisive historical figures to those who built bridges. Societies do not move forward by constantly reviving past battles—they progress by choosing what to remember, how to remember it, and what lessons to carry into the future. The question is, will we continue to let the ghosts of history dictate our present, or will we finally learn to move beyond them?
Amana Begam Ansari is a columnist, writer. She tweets @Amana_Ansari. Views are personal.
(Edited by Theres Sudeep)
Mam, Al Takia to next level.. u don’t know Aurangzeb books and Alamgiri is the integral part of Madarsaa curriculum and average Muslim feels that they ruled this country and need to do it again.. if you are really honest which I am sure you are not.. look at the photo of how many people attended Kalam funeral versus Menon..
Does that even need to be said.
Aurangzeb, Jinnah and Godse would be proud after the riots. Some hindutvadis and islamists dont see that irony.
The real target is those who consider Aurangzeb their guiding light. Those who think Aurangzeb is the ideal Muslim are the ones being targeted.
Articulated well but their is an inherent bias for the Muslim community in the writing.
Physical violence can never be equated to other forms of dissent and outrage which Muslim community indulged in the first place.
Under article 19(1) every one has a right for freedom of expression as long as it doesn’t vitiate the public tensions. In todays context and atmosphere the article is stretched a bit though.
So the cat in the room is missing and silently white washed in the guise of some moral high ground which is not easy when social polarisation is the quick incentive that gives a high for the vast majority at the lower levels of society for economic depravity is an ongoing pain that needs a occasional painkiller like this.
Who is responsible for this behaviour again the community leaders at lower level who can sway a large audience in a mins notice.
We know where does it happen and how does it happen. The Nagpur Riots was so meticulously planned that one communities vehicles, shops and houses were not damaged.
So Print even if it publishes opinion piece should stop giving one sided moral lessons without digging deep into the practical nuance of the problem, instead of focusing on the English literature of the case.
Very good article! The conclusion is really good, “If peace and coexistence are ever to be more than empty aspirations, the focus must shift from divisive historical figures to those who built bridges. Societies do not move forward by constantly reviving past battles—they progress by choosing what to remember, how to remember it, and what lessons to carry into the future.” I have a question for her. Building bridges among various groups happens automatically when people focus on overall social development, on positive politics. Which party comes to her mind? The answer is Aam Aadmi Party.