In Somnath, a New Tryst with the Civilisational Past, The Symbolism and Politics of Re-Embedding the Indian State
On India’s western coast in Gujarat, the Somnath temple stands not merely as a place of worship but as a monumental palimpsest of Indian history. Its stones bear the indelible inscriptions of creation, destruction, and resurrection—a cyclical narrative of civilisational trauma and resilience. When Prime Minister Narendra Modi chose to spend two nights in Somnath, far from the hurried rhythms of a typical political tour, the act transcended routine statecraft. It became, as writer Advaita Kala articulates, a profound gesture of “intention” and a deliberate “re-embedding of the Indian state in a geography marked by rupture and continuity.” This visit is a pivotal moment in India’s ongoing, and often contentious, project of redefining itself not merely as a post-colonial nation-state but as a “civilisational state,” consciously reconnecting with a past that had been, for decades, treated with selective amnesia or ideological embarrassment.
The Semiotics of Stay: From Political Courtesy to Civilisational Contemplation
In the choreography of political power, duration speaks volumes. A fly-in-and-out visit is transactional—a ceremonial obligation fulfilled, a constituency acknowledged. But a prolonged stay, especially in a site as symbolically charged as Somnath, signifies absorption, contemplation, and a deeper claim of belonging. As Kala notes, “In Indic tradition, staying is sacred. Kings did not merely visit temples; they resided, listened and absorbed, because even a king was meant to learn and imbibe.” Modi’s two-night sojourn, therefore, consciously invokes this older, dharmic model of kingship, where temporal power humbles itself before spiritual and historical continuity. It signals that the Prime Minister’s role is not just to govern but to listen to the whispers of history carried by the sea breeze at Prabhas Patan.
This act of “staying” stands in stark contrast to the post-independence approach to Somnath, which Kala describes as one of “embarrassment.” The temple’s reconstruction in the 1950s, spearheaded by Deputy Prime Minister Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel and President Rajendra Prasad, was met with conspicuous disapproval by Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. Nehru feared that state association with the rebuilding of a temple destroyed by Mahmud of Ghazni in 1026 CE would violate the secular compact and fuel majoritarian sentiment. This inaugurated what Kala terms “the Indian state’s selective amnesia.” In the Nehruvian vision, the secular republic had to be forward-looking, unshackled from the perceived burdens of religious history. Trauma was only acknowledged if it could be universalized; wounds specific to the Hindu community’s historical memory were often dismissed as relics of a “backward” thought, best forgotten in the march toward a modern, scientific temperament.
From Amnesia to Acknowledgment: The Politics of Emphasis
Modi’s politics operates on a fundamentally different axis—the politics of acknowledgment versus the politics of erasure. His approach, as seen in Somnath, is not to ignore historical wounds but to bring them into the national narrative, to “prevent them from festering” in the shadows of unspoken grievance. By explicitly linking Somnath and Ghazni in his public comments, he performs a crucial rhetorical move. He does not call for vengeance or revanchist anger. Instead, he frames the narrative around resilience and continuity. The message is: “India does not need to avenge its past. It needs to understand it without apology.”
This is a profound shift in India’s political culture. It seeks to normalize the discussion of pre-colonial and medieval historical trauma—subjects long considered taboo in “polite” secular discourse for fear of igniting communal passions. By acknowledging the destruction and repeated resurrection of Somnath, Modi validates a popular Hindu civilisational memory that feels it was sidelined by the post-colonial state’s secular orthodoxy. The visit becomes a state-sanctioned act of memory repair, asserting that the experiences encoded in this geography are legitimate, foundational, and worthy of national contemplation, not embarrassment.
The Civilisational State: India’s New/Old Identity
Modi’s Somnath visit is a key exhibit in his government’s broader project of reconceptualizing India as a civilisational state. This concept posits that India’s legitimacy and global identity stem not just from its 75-year-old constitutional democracy but from a continuous civilisational lineage stretching back millennia. As Kala observes, other major powers anchor their legitimacy in similar deep narratives: the Islamic world in sacred geography (Mecca, Medina), the West in the mythology of the Enlightenment and Greco-Roman antiquity, and China in its unbroken Han civilisational identity.
Post-independence India, in contrast, made a unique and, as Kala suggests, somewhat “ironical” attempt to “compress itself into constitutionalism.” The goal was to build a modern civic nationality atop a society of immense diversity, partly by downplaying the majority community’s historical-cultural narratives in public life. The Somnath visit challenges that compression. It asserts that the civilisational inheritance—explicitly acknowledged in the Constitution’s preamble’s mention of “the historic… resolve to constitute India into a SOVEREIGN SOCIALIST SECULAR DEMOCRATIC REPUBLIC” inspired by “the noble ideas which inspired our national struggle”—cannot and should not be sidelined.
The argument advanced by proponents of this view is that a “nation that knows its civilisational spine has no use for facile, performative secularism.” The critique here is of a model of secularism that, in practice, often manifested as avoidance of Hindu symbols and an over-correction that hollowed out the public expression of the country’s majority cultural ethos. A civilisational confidence, they argue, allows for a more organic and secure expression of Hindu identity in public life without it automatically translating into majoritarian supremacy or exclusion.
Navigating Critique: Majoritarian Signalling or Inclusive Reckoning?
Inevitably, this symbolic politics attracts fierce criticism. Detractors see in the Somnath pilgrimage not contemplative statecraft but calculated “majoritarian signalling.” They argue that such acts, set against a backdrop of rising Hindu nationalism, social polarisation, and incidents of majoritarian assertion, are not about inclusive civilisational memory but about consolidating a political vote bank by explicitly tying state symbolism to Hindu piety and historical grievance. The fear is that this “re-embedding” privileges one strand of India’s history—the Hindu experience of medieval trauma—potentially at the expense of the syncretic, composite culture that also defines India’s past and is essential for its pluralistic present.
Furthermore, the question arises: Does this acknowledgment of Hindu civilisational wounds create space for a reciprocal acknowledgment of other historical traumas? For instance, the scars of Partition, or the experiences of minority communities during other periods of upheaval? Or does it risk creating a hierarchy of grief, sanctified by state power?
The government’s counter, as implied in Kala’s analysis, is that this is not about division but about a confident, non-apologetic “presence.” It is a statement that says, “We are no longer in denial of what we have lived through.” The aim is to move Indian historical memory “away from grievance” and towards a posture of resilient strength. By owning the narrative of Somnath’s repeated rebirth, the state seeks to project an image of an ancient civilisation that has absorbed shocks and emerged intact, a metaphor for a rising India on the global stage.
Conclusion: The Stones of Somnath and the Future of India’s Story
The two nights in Somnath are ultimately a powerful act of political storytelling. They are an attempt to weave the thread of the present government—and by extension, the modern Indian state—directly into the epic tapestry of a Hindu civilisational continuity. It represents a decisive break from the Nehruvian secular compact that sought to keep religion, particularly majority religion, at a careful distance from state symbolism.
Whether this re-embedding fosters a healthy, confident pluralism or fuels further majoritarian consolidation remains the central question. The success of this civilisational project will not be judged by symbolic visits alone, but by the state’s concurrent actions: Does it protect the rights and dignity of all communities with equal vigor as it celebrates the majority’s heritage? Does the acknowledgment of past wounds heal or reopen them?
The stones of Somnath have witnessed centuries of flux. Today, they witness a new chapter where the Indian state, through the person of its Prime Minister, seeks not just to govern a territory but to consciously embody a civilisation’s long memory. The tryst with the past in Somnath is, fundamentally, a statement about the future India intends to build—one rooted in a reclaimed sense of self, for better or for worse.
Q&A on the Somnath Visit and India’s Civilisational Politics
Q1: Why is the duration of PM Modi’s stay in Somnath considered more significant than the visit itself?
A1: In political symbolism, duration conveys depth of commitment. A brief stop is often seen as a ceremonial obligation or a photo opportunity. A two-night stay, especially in a contemplative setting like a temple town, breaks from the frenetic pace of political campaigning. It evokes an older, indigenous tradition of kings and rulers undertaking vāsa (residence) at sacred sites to absorb wisdom, signal humility, and connect with the spiritual and historical essence of a place. By choosing to stay, Modi elevates the visit from a political event to a personal and state-level act of contemplation, signaling a deep, intentional engagement with Somnath’s civilisational meaning rather than a superficial political courtesy.
Q2: What was the “Nehruvian embarrassment” regarding Somnath, and how does Modi’s approach differ?
A2: After independence, the reconstruction of the Somnath temple, destroyed by Mahmud of Ghazni, was led by figures like Sardar Patel. Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, however, was strongly opposed to the new Indian state being formally associated with the rebuilding of a religious temple. He saw it as a violation of the secular principles he wished to establish, fearing it would promote Hindu majoritarianism and alienate minorities. This represented a state policy of “selective amnesia”—deliberately downplaying or expressing embarrassment about historical events tied to Hindu identity to maintain a strict secular public sphere. Modi’s approach reverses this. He actively acknowledges such historical trauma and celebrates the temple’s resilience. He brings it into the national narrative, arguing that recognizing and understanding this past without apology is essential for civilisational confidence, moving from a politics of erasure to a politics of acknowledgment.
Q3: What is meant by India redefining itself as a “civilisational state”?
A3: A “civilisational state” defines its political identity and legitimacy not solely by modern constructs like the nation-state or ideology (e.g., communism, liberal democracy), but by claiming continuity with an ancient, continuous civilisation. For China, it’s the unbroken Han civilisation; for the West, it’s the legacy of Greece, Rome, and the Enlightenment. Proponents argue that India, with a continuous history, philosophy, and cultural corpus dating back millennia, is fundamentally a civilisational entity that was artificially compressed into the Western model of a secular nation-state after 1947. Redefining India as a civilisational state involves consciously weaving elements of this ancient heritage—its symbols, philosophies, historical narratives, and aesthetic—into the fabric of contemporary statecraft, governance, and national identity, presenting India’s global rise as the rejuvenation of an ancient civilisation.
Q4: Critics call the visit “majoritarian signalling.” What is the basis of this critique, and how do supporters respond?
A4: The critique is based on the context: Somnath is a potent symbol of medieval Hindu victimhood and resurgence under Muslim rulers. In a socio-political climate where Hindu nationalist sentiment is strong and religious polarization is a concern, critics argue that a Prime Minister’s extended, highly publicized stay at such a site is a clear signal to the majority Hindu electorate. It is seen as prioritizing one community’s historical narrative in a way that might alienate minorities and undermine the pluralistic, equidistant secularism envisioned in the constitution. Supporters, like Advaita Kala, respond that this is a misreading. They argue it is not about supremacy but about “presence and acknowledgement”—ending the denial of a shared civilisational past. They contend that a nation secure in its civilisational roots has no need for the “facile, performative secularism” of the past and can openly celebrate its heritage without insecurity or exclusionary intent, framing it as an act of national confidence, not division.
Q5: How does linking Somnath and Ghazni in the narrative move memory “away from grievance”?
A5: Traditionally, the story of Somnath invoked feelings of loss, anger, and a desire for retribution against the figure of Mahmud of Ghazni. By consciously pairing “Somnath and Ghazni in the same narrative breath,” as Modi did, the focus shifts. Ghazni becomes not just an aggressor but a part of a historical test. The emphasis falls not on the destruction he wrought, but on Somnath’s—and by extension, India’s—phenomenal capacity for regeneration and rebirth. The narrative transforms from “we were wronged” to “we endured and rebuilt, stronger each time.” This reframes civilisational memory from one of victimhood and grievance to one of resilience, continuity, and ultimate triumph. It attempts to forge a forward-looking, empowered identity rooted in the ability to overcome historical trauma, rather than being paralyzed by it.
