Unrest at Hazratbal: A Shrine Where Faith, Politics and History Collide

Srinagar’s Hazratbal Shrine, home to the sacred Moi-e-Muqaddas relic, has become the epicenter of a fiery controversy. A newly installed plaque bearing India’s Ashoka emblem sparked outrage among worshippers and local leaders, who argued it violated Islamic principles against idolatry.

After Friday prayers, a mob vandalised the plaque, shattering the uneasy calm. Over 50 individuals were detained as authorities scrambled to investigate, igniting a fierce debate over religious sanctity, national symbols, and political agendas.

Hazratbal, a spiritual beacon, stands as a potent symbol of devotion and simmering tensions, a testament to Kashmir’s troubled history. We revisit the shrine and its past with a special series. Part 1 details the origins of Hazratbal, and its tryst with thefts, protests, and terror.

This series sets the stage for a deeper exploration of its storied past and volatile present.

The Prophet's Farewell

In the scorching summer of 632 AD, around a lakh people followed a man riding a camel to the holy city of Mecca. The leader of the sahabah, male followers, was a man whose presence commanded both reverence and solace: Prophet Muhammad.

The air pulsed with whispered prayers and eager anticipation as pilgrims moved in unison around the Kaaba, tracing the Prophet’s steps.

At the foot of Mount Arafat, beneath an unforgiving sun, the Prophet delivered a sermon that would echo through centuries.

Within months his health, weakened by prior trials, would fail him, turning his first pilgrimage also into a profound farewell.

Every gesture and ritual performed by Muhammad during this pilgrimage became part of his Sunnah (teachings and practices), setting a precedent for Muslims to follow.

Islamic commentaries and reports indicate the Prophet distributed his hair after the ritual shaving during the pilgrimage.

From Mecca to Kashmir

One of the strands was initially with Syed Abdullah Madani, a descendant of the Prophet, who brought it from Medina to Bijapur in the 16th century.

A rich local merchant, Khwaja Nuruddin Ishbari (Eshai), purchased the holy relic for one hundred thousand rupees from Madani. According to some accounts, when Aurangzeb learned of the relic’s presence and its transfer, he had it seized and sent to the shrine of the Sufi mystic Mu'in al-Din Chishti in Ajmer. Aurangzeb also imprisoned Eshai to prevent any claims over the relic.

However, after nine days, Aurangzeb reportedly had a dream in which Prophet Muhammad instructed him to send the strand, revered as Moi-e-Muqaddas, back to Kashmir.

By the time of its return, Eshai had died in prison, and the relic was transported to Kashmir in 1700 along with Eshai’s body.

In Kashmir, Eshai’s daughter, Inayat Begum, was given the special relic to protect. Her family, the Bandays, have looked after it ever since.

The Mughal governor, Fazil Khan, respected the relic and ordered it to be kept in a shrine by Dal Lake, in a place called Bagh-i-Sadiqabad. This place became Hazratbal, known as the home of Prophet Muhammad.

From Faith to Legend

Soon a village grew around the shrine, and it became a holy spot for Kashmiri Muslims who couldn’t travel to Mecca. For many Kashmiri Muslims, faith and tradition intertwined, making the relic a powerful emblem of their spiritual and cultural heritage. With the growing number of pilgrims, a thriving market prospered, creating its own economy.

Folklore and legends grew. Stories say the relic was stolen twice before India’s independence but always returned, as if by a miracle. Some locals believe the relic came from Arabia to Hazratbal on its own and refuses to stay away from its resting place for long.

But debates over authenticity also surfaced. Local traditions detail Mughal emperor Aurangzeb’s seizure and eventual return of the relic following a reputed dream, lending the narrative an air of divine intervention. These accounts affirm the relic’s significance as a spiritual symbol deeply woven into Kashmiri identity.

However, some Islamic scholars emphasise that the centuries separating the present day from the Prophet’s time, and the absence of written records of unbroken chain of custody, make the relic’s authenticity historically unverifiable.

Sceptics also point to instances of theft and recovery as circumstantial evidence of the relic’s contested legitimacy.

This mix of faith and Kashmiri identity turned Hazratbal into more than a shrine. It became synonymous with Kashmiri pride and politics, triggering a chain of events that changed the politics of Kashmir and fractured its relations with New Delhi.

From Religion to Politics

On December 20, 1963, Abdul Rahim Banday, the devoted mutawalli, reverently returned the relic to its place after a public deedar. But he was unaware of the tremors to come.

In the dead of a frigid Kashmir night, between December 26 and 27, a thief’s shadow fell upon the shrine. Under cover of darkness, the Moi-e-Muqaddas vanished. Thieves had pried open the small shelf housing its wooden box, desecrating the shrine’s sanctity.

As dawn broke, news of the theft spread like wildfire across the snow-choked Kashmir Valley. Despite the biting cold, furious and heartbroken crowds swarmed the shrine by morning.

By afternoon, thousands marched through Srinagar’s streets, their cries of outrage demanding the relic’s return. The city ground to a halt with a spontaneous hartal, shops shuttered, as the people mourned the violation of their holiest treasure.

Shops shuttered, offices darkened, taxis and horse-drawn carriages vanished from the icy streets. From every corner of the city and beyond, furious processions surged toward Lal Chowk, merging into massive jaloos, black flags snapping in the wind, slogans piercing the frigid air.

Blaming the family of Bakshi Ghulam Mohammad, the former Prime Minister of Kashmir, the crowds hurled Kangris at his nephew, and torched his car. The mob torched two cinemas, Amreesh and Regal, owned by Bakshi’s brother.

The crowd then stormed toward All India Radio, suspecting it of spreading lies about the theft. Police barely saved the station from destruction.

Meanwhile, waves of protestors flooded toward Hazratbal, supported by volunteers offering tea, snacks, and meals. Pandits and Sikhs joined, lending solidarity to the Muslim marchers.

As night fell, the crowds dispersed, only to get ready for relentless waves of protests and strikes over the next few days.

Former CBI director BN Mullick, who investigated the theft, observed: “All the main roads were blocked by thousands of people. The smallest procession was at least a mile long, covering the entire width of the road including the footpaths. The Ministers were virtual prisoners confined to their houses with police guards protecting them. All public institutions and offices were guarded by armed police. A vehicle, to be able to come out on the public roads, had to carry a black flag. Every wall of the city was full of posters, and every house had a black flag.” (Kashmir: My Years with Nehru. BN Mullick, 1971)

Their fury sent tremors through Delhi’s halls of power. The theft was the starting point of Kashmir’s tryst with decades of separatism, strikes and terror. A panicked government launched a massive hunt for the relic to deal with the tremors that shook all of India.

Next, we delve into the gripping hunt for the holy relic following its disappearance, a turning point that reshaped Kashmir’s political landscape and echoed far beyond its borders.

- Ends