The recent ban by the Uttar Pradesh government on the Jeth fair in Bahraich, held in memory of Salar Masood Ghazi, has ignited a volatile debate, particularly within the Hindu community. The response, marked by deeply offensive and vitriolic comments, underscores a historical wound that refuses to heal. Central to this discord is the figure of Salar Masood Ghazi, a historical figure whose legacy is viewed through starkly contrasting lenses. While some venerate him as a martyr and saint, others remember him as a ruthless invader responsible for widespread atrocities.
To understand the current tension, examining the historical records surrounding Salar Masood Ghazi is crucial. According to chronicles like the Mirat-i-Masudi and Tarikh-i-Mahmudi, he was the nephew of Mahmud Ghaznavi, born during his uncle’s campaign against Kannauj in 1015 AD. He received a rigorous religious education, memorizing the Quran by the age of ten. Early in his military career, he demonstrated a pattern that would define his campaigns: conquest followed by enslavement and forced conversion. His victory against King Satgun resulted in the enslavement and sale of the king, his wife, and their children.
Salar Masood’s involvement in the sack of the Somnath temple is particularly contentious. Historical accounts suggest that he influenced Mahmud Ghaznavi’s decision to break his promise to return the temple’s idol in exchange for gold. He reportedly desecrated the idol, grinding it into powder and forcing Brahmins to consume it. This act, described as cunning by some and sacrilegious by others, underscores the deep religious animosity that characterized his campaigns.
Following Mahmud Ghaznavi’s campaigns, Salar Masood and his father, Salar Sahu, took on the responsibility of expanding Islamic influence in India. Their campaigns were marked by violence and brutality. The conquest of Multan involved the massacre of thousands, the enslavement of women and children, and the forced conversion of the populace. The accounts detail the systematic killing of boys above the age of eight, a chilling example of the brutality employed to subdue the region. The city of Lahore was similarly subjugated, its population forced to adopt Islam under the threat of violence.
His campaigns against Ajodhan (Ayodhya) and Bahraich further illustrate his military tactics and religious zeal. In Ayodhya, he faced fierce resistance from King Mahipal, whose son, Gopal, inflicted significant injuries upon him. Despite this setback, Salar Masood emerged victorious, continuing his pattern of temple destruction and forced conversion. The destruction of the Satrakh temple and the subsequent attacks on Karra and Manikpur were marked by sudden assaults and widespread killings, designed to terrorize the local population.
The events leading up to his death in Bahraich are particularly significant. He established a base near Surajkund, a sacred Hindu site, and ordered the destruction of the Balarukh idol of Lord Surya, a revered symbol of Hindu worship. This act of desecration, coupled with the cutting down of all trees except a Mahua tree under which he planned his attacks, highlights his deliberate targeting of Hindu religious sites.
In 1034 AD, Salar Masood’s campaign against Bahraich culminated in a decisive battle against the Hindu kings Sahardeva and Hardev. The Hindu forces inflicted a crushing defeat on his army, killing his chieftains and filling Surajkund with the bodies of his soldiers. Salar Masood himself was fatally wounded, dying under the Mahua tree.
The historical accounts paint a picture of a military leader driven by religious fervor, whose campaigns were characterised by violence, destruction, and forced conversion. The narrative of Salar Masood as a saint and martyr, therefore, clashes starkly with the experiences of those who suffered under his rule.
The construction of a mausoleum over his grave by Firoz Shah Tughlaq further complicates his legacy. Tughlaq, seeking to solidify his Islamic credentials, promoted the veneration of Salar Masood, contributing to the development of his cult-like following.
Cunningham’s reports from 1862-63, which identify Satrakh as Ayodhya and Surajkund as Ashokpur, add geographical context to these historical events, linking them to specific locations that remain significant to the Hindu community.
The current controversy surrounding the Jeth fair is not merely a dispute over a religious festival. It is a manifestation of deep-seated historical grievances. The offensive comments made by some members of the Muslim community, referencing the sexual violence and enslavement inflicted upon Hindu ancestors, serve to reopen these wounds. The historical record, with its accounts of rape, enslavement, and forced conversion, provides context for the anger and resentment felt by many Hindus.
In conclusion, Salar Masood Ghazi’s legacy is deeply contested. Historical accounts portray him as a military leader whose campaigns were marked by violence and religious zeal. The contrasting narratives surrounding his life and death highlight the enduring impact of historical trauma and the ongoing struggle to reconcile conflicting interpretations of the past. The current controversy underscores the importance of historical understanding in navigating complex inter-community relations.
