Aurangzeb was not merely a ruler; he was the architect of tyranny, religious persecution, and civilisational rupture. His reign sought to suffocate Bharat’s pluralistic spirit, replacing coexistence with oppression and fanaticism. Today, as Bharat reclaims its civilisational identity, his legacy stands not as a symbol of power, but as a stark reminder of a past that the nation has outgrown and rejected.
At the Akhil Bharatiya Pratinidhi Sabha (ABPS) 2025 in Bengaluru, the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) made a decisive assertion: Aurangzeb is irrelevant in today’s Bharat. Sunil Ambekar, the chief spokesperson of the RSS, articulated this position, emphasising that Bharat’s future cannot be shaped by those who sought to break its civilisational unity. His remarks were not just a reflection on history but a call to ensure that Bharat’s national identity is rooted in its Sanatan ethos rather than in the oppressive legacy of a ruler who left behind a fragmented, weakened empire.
Aurangzeb’s reign (1658–1707) is remembered not for cultural growth or administrative brilliance, but for religious persecution, cultural destruction, and political blunders that ultimately led to the decline of the Mughal Empire. Aurangzeb saw diversity as a threat to his authoritarian rule. His policies were rooted in an extreme interpretation of Islam, making him the most divisive figure in Mughal history.
His hatred for Hindus was not just an incidental part of his rule-it was central to his governance. He reimposed the jizya tax, a discriminatory levy on non-Muslims treated Hindus as 2nd class citizens. Temples were systematically destroyed, including some of Bharat’s most sacred sites, such as Kashi Vishwanath in Varanasi and Krishna Janmabhoomi in Mathura. His administration actively suppressed Hindu practices, banning celebrations like Holi and forbidding officials from participating in any Hindu rituals.
But his brutality was not limited to Hindus. He executed Guru Tegh Bahadur, the ninth Sikh Guru, for standing up against forced religious conversions in Kashmir. He imprisoned his own father, Shah Jahan, and executed his elder brother, Dara Shikoh, who had embraced a syncretic vision of Hindu-Muslim unity. His policies were not just those of a ruler enforcing political order; they were those of a man who feared the cultural richness of Bharat and sought to replace it with a singular, rigid ideology.
Aurangzeb’s divisive policies did not die with him-they were revived in the creation of Pakistan in 1947. Pakistan was not formed out of love for Muslims but out of hatred for Hindus. The two-nation theory, which drove the partition of Bharat, was an ideological successor to Aurangzeb’s vision-a vision that rejected coexistence and sought to define identity solely through religious exclusion.
From its inception, Pakistan institutionalised Aurangzeb’s legacy, embedding religious extremism into its governance. The country’s policies-blasphemy laws, destruction of Hindu and Sikh heritage, forced conversions, and systematic discrimination against minorities-are echoes of Aurangzeb’s rule. The demolition of Hindu temples, which was state policy under Aurangzeb, continues in Pakistan, where thousands of temples have been destroyed since Partition. Hindus, who once made up a significant portion of the region’s population, have dwindled to a persecuted minority.
In contrast, modern Bharat has decisively rejected this ideology. Bharat’s identity is rooted in pluralism, inclusivity, and cultural resurgence. While Pakistan has struggled with sectarian violence and radicalisation, Bharat has embraced constitutional democracy, social harmony, and cultural revival. The ideological battle between Aurangzeb’s worldview and Bharat’s civilisational ethos continues to this day, but the difference is stark-B harat is rising, while the ideology of religious bigotry is failing.
The RSS’s statement that Aurangzeb is irrelevant is not just a dismissal of history; it is a rejection of his ideology in contemporary Bharat. His reign teaches a crucial lesson: rulers who seek to impose uniformity through oppression eventually destroy the very empire they seek to control. Aurangzeb’s tyranny weakened the Mughals, leading to their collapse. Today, Pakistan, which has carried forward its divisive policies, is facing internal decay, religious extremism, and political instability.
For Bharat, the way forward is clear. It must continue to reject Aurangzeb’s legacy of religious intolerance and embrace its own identity of dharmic pluralism. Modern Bharat stands on the ideals of Guru Tegh Bahadur’s sacrifice, Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj’s valour, and Swami Vivekananda’s vision leaders who stood for cultural resilience, not destruction.
The time has come to move beyond Aurangzeb-not just in textbooks, but in the national consciousness. Bharat cannot be shackled by the ghosts of those who tried to break it. It must define its identity through its civilisational wisdom, its cultural resurgence, and its unwavering commitment to dharma.
Aurangzeb’s place in history is that of a ruler who failed to erase Bharat’s soul, broke its spirit, and failed to create a lasting empire. The real victors of history are those who resisted his tyranny and ensured that Bharat remains a land of faith, culture, and unity. The modern nation has no place for him except as a cautionary tale of what must never be allowed again.
