by Dr Peter Custers

It is time to take issue with the Eurocentric discourse on religious tolerance. For too long European discussions on religion and religious diversity have presumed that the discourse of religious tolerance is an achievement which European philosophers should primarily, if not exclusively, be credited with. Below I am going to strongly take issue with this presumption, prejudice. On the basis of an analysis of the message and the ethos of the Sufi mystics who spread Islam in Bengal in the pre-colonial era, it can be argued that Bangladesh possesses a striking history of Muslim religious tolerance. In order to make my point, I will focus largely on the role of the Sufi mystic brotherhood of the Chishtis, which is the current of Sufism that to all accounts was most influential in pre-colonial Bengal. The Chishtis were pluralistic in spirit and without hesitance combined their mysticism with a syncretic approach towards local, non-Islamic religions. In view of this combination of factors, they have left a lasting imprint of religious tolerance on the (rural) culture of Bangladesh.
   Preliminarily, I wish to briefly comment on the concept of religious tolerance. This concept demands that a non-antagonistic attitude, a spirit of acceptance, be upheld in relation to people who do not share one’s own world view. In its broadest sense, the principle of religious tolerance can be applied towards both believers and non-believers. From both people who are religious and from people who are not so, it can be demanded that they observe respect towards those who do not share the worldview that is one’s own. In a narrower sense, of course, the term religious tolerance refers in particular to mutual respect between people professing different faiths. In the case of Islam, an important criterion is whether the religious tolerance professed, is extended towards people belonging to ‘non-revealed religions’, i.e. towards people professing religions other than the three world religions that have their roots in the Middle East (the Jewish, Christian, and Muslim faiths). Extension of tolerance towards the so designated non-revealed religions is, evidently, of special importance in the case of the South Asian subcontinent, where Brahminical ‘Hinduism’ along with various other indigenous religious traditions was present, when Islamic mysticism started gaining ground, in the 13th and 14th century.
   A second preliminary point is my delineation of time-period. Which exact time period are we speaking of, when referring to Islamic mysticism, religious tolerance and the history of Bangladesh? In my argumentation, when trying to state my case in favour of Bangladesh’s unique experience, I will roughly take the period from the middle of 14th till the middle of the 18th century as period of reference. This period of four centuries is, of course, not a single period, if looked at from the perspective of the identity of the rulers. There was, first, the Ilyas Shahi dynasty, which continued from the middle of the 14th till the end of the 15th century (1342-1486). Then, for a relatively short period of time, the Husain Shahi dynasty prevailed, — a ruling house, sultanate, with a great reputation for tolerance. Then, after a period of turbulence, Moghul emperors in Delhi succeeded in imposing their rule on the unruly region of Bengal, in the early part of the 17th century. Viewed from the long haul, however, the Moghul period, although lasting roughly a century, was an interregnum, for from the beginning of the 18th century Bengal was once again ruled independently, by the nawabs who had (re-)asserted independence from Delhi’s rulers. It is this combination of factors, i.e. that Bengal through major chunks of time during four centuries before the colonial conquest was ruled independently, plus the fact that all the Muslim rulers listed for this epoch by and large subscribed to the principle of religious tolerance, which counts (1).
   
   The Chishtis’ rapid growth of influence in the subcontinent
   The next point to focus on is the question of Islam’s ‘penetration’ into Bengal. It is generally accepted in the literature, that the process whereby a sizeable section of Bengal’s population got converted to Islam, was not one of imposition. It is not primarily the Muslim rulers who reigned Bengal from the beginning of the 13th century onwards, who imposed Islamic religion by force, or initiated a process of conversion. Instead, Sufi mystical brotherhoods which entered Bengal from the same 13th century onwards (Sheikh Jalal al-Din Tabrizi – who died in 1244/45 at Lakhnauti), during the pre-colonial era succeeded in convincing a very sizeable section of Bengal’s population that the Sufis’ world view accorded with their needs. This section in any case was larger than was the case for most South Asian regions. To my knowledge, the given issue by now has been settled by historians. What has perhaps not been highlighted with sufficient force is the nature and ethos of the particular Sufi brotherhood(s) which took centre stage in the process of religious change in Bengal. There is enough evidence indicating that it was precisely a Sufi current professing religious tolerance, i.e. the brotherhood of the Chishtis, which undertook the most effective and long lasting ‘missionary’ activities in pre-colonial Bengal (2).
   Here the narrative needs to briefly focus on the history of the Chishti’s ‘penetration’ into the subcontinent, and into Bengal. For the story regarding the spread of influence by the Chishti brotherhood itself is a significant one. This silsila derives its name from the place where the saint who established the brotherhood’s presence in the subcontinent, Sheikh Moinuddin Chishti, hails from, being the village Chist near Herat in Afghanistan. It was Moinuddin Chishti’s disciple, Nizamuddin Auliya, who effectively succeeded in spreading Islam’s mystic faith to different parts of the subcontinent, via the hospice, khanqah, he established in Delhi. His tomb in Delhi continues to attract throngs of pilgrims even today. One indicator of the success which the Chishtis reaped in pre-colonial India, is provided by a 17th century miniature painting present at the Hermitage museum in St. Petersburg, which depicts an imaginary gathering of 6 leading Sufi saints in India, two of whom happen to be Chishtis, i.e. Moinuddin Chishti and Nizamuddin Auliya (3). Again there is an indication of the political influence which the Chishti brotherhood rapidly developed in Bengal. The founder of the Ilyas Shahi dynasty reportedly dedicated his earliest monument to the Chishti saint Ala Al-Haq, during the very century (14th century) when the Chishtis initiated their work in Bengal. There were moments when the growing social influence of the Chishti’s leading saints evoked negative reactions, such as when Ala Al-Haque was temporarily banished by sultan Iskandar from the capital to the remote urban centre of Sonargaon (4). Yet according to noted historian Richard Eaton this moment passed soon, and was superseded by a prolonged period during which Bengal’s rulers considered themselves disciples of Chishti saints. Husain Shahi made annual pilgrimages to the shrine of Ala Al-Haque.
   
   The world view and activism of the Chishtis
   I would now like to address the question of the Chishti’s world view and social activism. First is their world view, which can be assessed by looking at three interrelated questions — namely their enthusiastic support for Ibn Arabi’s theory of Wahdad Al Wujud (Unity of Being), their defence of the gatherings where Sufi poetry was recited to the accompaniment of music, i.e. the samas, and their eagerness to use Vaishnav ‘Hinduist’ symbolism, in which human love feelings obtain a transcendental meaning. The theory of Ibn’ Arabi (11645-1240), called Wahdad Al Wujud, was formulated at a time when Sufism had reached a high peak of influence in the Muslim world of the Middle East. Although I understand that there belatedly exists a controversy over the precise interpretation of terminology Ibn Arabi used (5), a controversy which is perhaps of limited importance to the historian, — there is no doubt regarding the positive significance his thinking has had for the cause of religious tolerance in the subcontinent. If God or God’s spirit is present in all living beings and non-living entities, as the theory of the ‘Unity of Being’ states, people of all religions need to be respected. Ibn’ Arabi’s theory was opposed by some of the Sufi brotherhoods in South Asia, notably by leading saints of the Naqshbandis who rose to prominence much later. But the theory is reported to have been strongly supported by the Chishtis (6).
   Here, I would like to note in passing that Ibn ‘Arabi held further views that are fascinating from a sub-continental perspective. I am referring here to the ideas stated in the booklet ‘The Interpreter of Longing’. It reportedly was written in Mecca, after its author encountered Nizam, a young Persian woman he took to be God, the incarnation of ‘Divine Wisdom’. According to Karen Armstrong’s interpretation, Ibn ‘Arabi not only employed the imagery of human love feelings to refer to his transcendental yearning, for God’s Love. At the same time, he tried to indicate that ‘love was essentially a yearning for something that remains absent’ (7). Strikingly, almost at the very same time when Ibn ‘Arabi wrote his essay on yearning in absence, the Bengali poet Jayadeva wrote a long poem called the Gitagovinda, in which he described the painful yearning in absence of the cowherd girl Radha, waiting for the God Krishna (8). Both authors, Ibn ‘Arabi and Jayadeva, used their imagery on yearning in order to express their mystic urge, one as Sufi, the other as mystic belonging to India’s Vaishnav tradition. In the symbolic presentations there were differences between the two, — the one projecting man as the seeker, the other projecting woman as the seeker of Love. Yet it is worthwhile to note that many Sufi saints in the subcontinent, in particular Chishti saints, have enthusiastically employed imagery derived from Vaishnav mysticism (9).
   A second important indicator of the fact that the Chishtis represent(ed) a liberal current within Sufi mysticism, is their championship of the sama, the gatherings in which Sufi poetry and music was/is used as means towards reaching mystical ecstasy. All the three most famous Chishti saints, Moinuddin Chishti, Nizamuddin Auliya and Amir Khusrau, are known to have been proponents of the sama, of the use of mystical poetry and songs towards spiritual ends. Moinuddin Chishti himself was a writer of Persian love poetry, Ghazzals. Amir Khusrao amongst others wrote a collection of Persian and Hindawi (old Hindi) love quatrains addressed to the artisan boys of Delhi. Now, it is recorded in the literature on history that at one time there existed serious controversies over the practice of holding sama sessions. This controversy reportedly reached a climax in Nizamuddin Auliya’s time. Pressed by opposition of orthodox scholars, the Chishti saint had to give his justification for the employment of poetry and music, considered un-Islamic by the theologians, the ulema (10). The orthodox ulema petitioned the king, who however refused to take sides. The Chishtis have continued to support the staging of samas ever since. And it appears that this practice contributed to the growing popularity of their Sufi silsila. Moreover, it also appears that their success evoked a ‘rival’ response. In Bengal the sama during the 16th century found its parallel in the samkirtan, the collective chanting and dancing towards reaching ecstasy by members of the current of ‘Hinduist’ mysticism, Vaishnavism, formed by Bengal’s very most famous Vaishnav saint Chaitanya. In any case, like their embracement of Ibn ‘Arabi’s theory of the Unity of Being, their support for the holding of sama gatherings characterises the Chishtis as a current that is more liberal and tolerant than is orthodox Islam.
   Thirdly, I need to devote some words to the Chishti’s openness vis-à-vis the experiences of mystical currents they encountered in the subcontinent. It is known that Islamic scholars had already started gathering knowledge regarding India’s religious traditions well before proselytising activities of Sufi brotherhoods in India were initiated. Mention should be made here of the ‘Tahliq ma li’l Hind’, the work written by Al Biruni, which is amongst others noteworthy for the attention its author devoted to the Vaishnav tradition of Indian mysticism (11). The Chishtis’ openness is reflected in several striking practices. Among the different Sufi brotherhoods that spread their influence in India from the 13th and 14th century onwards, the Chishtis appear to have stood out as especially eager to communicate with Indian yogis. At Chishti khanqahs ‘in each and every city’ where these were established, yogis were welcome guests (12). Again, historians recount that the Chishtis encouraged the reciting of Vaishnav poetry at sama gatherings held at the hospices, — surely yet one more proof, if needed, of their spirit of liberalism (13). Bengal, in the literature, has been described as the country of ‘syncretistic Islam’ (14). While the evidence indicating an enormously large degree of intermingling between Islam and pre-existing religious currents, notably Vaishnavism and Yogatantra, is indeed strong, — there also appears to be significant evidence indicating that the Chishtis, as the leading missionary brotherhood, were instrumental in encouraging this trend.
   There are at least two additional points that need to be mentioned, in order to clarify why the Chishtis became an effective force in favour of religious tolerance in pre-colonial Bengal. One point concerns the emphasis which the brotherhood laid on compassion for the poor and on human service. Here there is a contrast — both with many of India’s own yogi ascetics, and with another section of the Sufis which like the Chishtis gained popularity in Bengal. The Qalandars, for instance, drew part of their inspiration from the ardent yoga practitioners called Natha Panthis. Unlike the Chishtis, the Qalandars were wandering ascetics who distinguished themselves by shaving off their body hair. They reportedly were liberal, refusing to draw any distinction between temples and mosques. Yet they fully immersed themselves in their individual search, the search to be perfect and reach a state of union with the Absolute (15). The Chishtis, instead, were both ardent mystics and social activists. They established hospices, khanqahs, where they accepted as disciples people belonging to all social classes and castes. A notable feature of the Chishti hospices was that they organised free distribution of food to the poor. These communal kitchens were known as ‘langarkhanas’. In late 20th century Bangladesh, the term langarkhana was still in use to refer to gruel kitchens, instituted to help the destitute cope in periods of famine.
   The second additional explanatory point concerns the Chishtis’ attitude to land grants. Here again, the Chishtis, originally at least, differentiated themselves from other Sufi silsilas. Whereas others readily accepted land grants from rulers, the Chishtis originally rejected them outright, arguing that it was necessary for the brotherhoods to keep their distance from the (Muslim) rulers in the subcontinent. Only ‘free grants’, futuh, provided by members of the public were acceptable. This standpoint certainly was to change, and many Chishti khanqahs subsequently were to amass substantially large land properties, often in consequence of grants provided by local chieftains and central rulers. A case in mind, is the large Chishti khanqah at Salon in Awadh, which has been well researched by noted Indian historian Saiyeed Zaheer Husain Jafri (16). Yet the maintenance of a certain distance from worldly rulers has for long remained a part of the Chishtis´ official ethos. Moreover, it is necessary to keep in mind that many of the khanqahs, even if their wealth raised suspicions, performed important functions towards civil society. Via education in the pre-colonial madrasahs, they contributed to raising people’s knowledge standards, and promoted religious tolerance.
   
   Two parallel currents of mysticism, Sufism and Vaishnavism
   I now wish to return to my main narrative, regarding the impact of Islamic mysticism on the culture of religious tolerance in Bengal. From my reading of history, the 16th century was a period when truly intense efforts were underway towards promoting mutual tolerance between adherents of Islam and other religions. During the century’s first part, up to 1538, Bengal was ruled by the dynasty of the Husain Shahis, which integrated many ‘Hindus’ into the state’s governing elite, and which showed a keen interest in promotion of non-Islamic literature, such as through translations of portions of the Mahabharata (17). During the same epoch, many Sufi saints and intermediaries, to the dismay of (other) members of the Muslim aristocracy, the Ashraf, took to writing in Bengali, as distinct from Persian, the language of the court. Moreover, the message of the Sufi cultural intermediaries was overwhelmingly syncretic in kind, integrating elements from Islam with elements derived from Vaishnavism and Yoga tantra. These syncretic efforts may well be compared with the syncretic drive of the Brahmin priests when they sought to establish their social hegemony over non Vedic, tribal cultures in post-Asoka India. Yet it is perhaps wrong to equate the two. For although the Sufi saints and intermediaries too were concerned with establishing their discourse as hegemonic, — the ethos of tolerance, at least in the case of the Chishtis and the Shattaris (18), appears to have been genuine, on the whole.
   Further, it is impossible to fully assess and appreciate the spirit which prevailed in society in 16th century Bengal, without referring to the efforts of the Vaishnav mystics, which ran parallel to those of Sufi saints. Not coincidentally, it was during the reign of the Husain Shahi sultans, that the cultural movement led by Chaitanya arose, a Vaishnav mystic who left a legacy far beyond the borders of Bengal. Chaitanya’s grouping included both Muslims and people of low caste background. Historians appear to agree that Chaitanya’s boldness did lie in the fact that he brought the samkirtan, the secret gatherings where people tried to reach ecstasy via singing and dancing, into the public domain (19). Chaitanya’s grouping even staged a public action to question the prohibition which the Qazi of Nawadweep had imposed on their performances! The samkirtan became a vehicle to question caste rigidities. Chaitanya’s mysticism was built around the narrative of the love relationship between Radha, the cowherd girl, and the God Krishna, — which I have already referred to above.
   Unfortunately, there is in the context of this brief essay no scope to either elaborate on the historical evolution of the Chaitainya cult, — or on the movement’s relationship with the social aspirations of artisans and traders in 16th Century Bengal (20). For the purpose of my narrative on mysticism and religious tolerance, however, we need to at least note that Chaitanya’s mysticism and movement left an imprint on Bengali culture that lasted for many centuries, — in the form of many biographies on Chaitanya, a specific Vaishnav poetic tradition, etc. In short, before the coming of British colonialism, parallel mystical currents had gained a major influence over people’s religious life in rural and urban Bengal.
   
   Summary/conclusions
   I will end by summarising the main line of my discourse, and by drawing a conclusion towards international debates on religious tolerance. Above I have tried to bring out the significance which the Sufi brotherhood of the Chishtis has had in spreading an Islam in Bengal that was strikingly tolerant. Starting with Sheikh Akhi Shiraj, the disciple of Nizamuddin Auliya, the Chishti silsila in the 14th century rapidly spread its social and political influence in the region of Bengal. In fact, the Chishtis’ effectiveness was so large that within less than half a century from their arrival, the region’s rulers recognised their leading saint as spiritual authority. Further, contrary to other Sufi currents, the Chishti brotherhood did not shy away from engagement in worldly affairs, but combined their mystical search with a spirit of social activism. Again, the brotherhood eagerly sought to communicate with and learn from representatives of the ‘non-revealed’ religions they encountered in the subcontinent, including the ascetic yogis and the mystics of the Vaishnav tradition – both influential in pre-colonial Bengal. The Chishtis’ liberalism was well reflected in their use of Sufi poetry/music sessions, the sama, against fierce criticisms from the side of orthodox Islam. Since the Chishtis were followers of Ibn ‘Arabi’s theory of Wahdad Al-Wujud, the theory of the Unity of Being, which states that God is present in all Creation, they taught their followers to respect people of all faiths. And although feverish efforts have been made ever since the 19th century to establish hegemony for a more orthodox Islamic discourse, — the spirit of religious tolerance has survived in Bangladesh’s society up until today.
   What significance does the above story hold for contemporary international debates on religious tolerance? Here there is a need to radically question the tendency to dismiss Islam as a religion which cannot accommodate with any other religion, which by its very nature is intolerant. Ibn ‘Arabi, whose theory inspired the Chishtis to take a pluralistic stance, was firmly opposed to any form of religious chauvinism. This he expressed well in his saying, ‘My heart is capable of every form. A cloister for the monk, a temple for idols… ’ However, the point is not just that Islam harbours powerful currents which are respectful towards people of all other faiths. The point is also that the Sufi brotherhoods spread their message in the subcontinent at a time when the idea of religious tolerance had not even started being debated in (a large part of) Western Europe.
   The point is that Bengal experienced centuries of relative religious calm, at the very time when religious dissidents in Europe were still being burnt on the stakes (21). And the point is that the value of religious tolerance survived all of Britain’s colonial efforts to draw strict dividing lines between the subcontinent’s faiths. It survived contravening the homogenising discourse undertaken by European academicians of the Orientalist school. And religious tolerance survived the wholesale colonial appropriation of land properties previously owned by Sufi educational institutions, in the 19th century (22). Thus, in Bengal, the whole tradition of juxtaposition and free intermingling between Sufism and Vaishnavism, re-emerged in the 20th century writings and songs of Kazi Nazrul Islam, — the fiery poet who after Bangladesh’s independence was elevated to the status of Bangladesh’s national poet. Hence, a discourse on Islamic mysticism and the history of Bangladesh is not without contemporary significance. It helps lay bare the fact that the message of today’s new crusaders against Islam is false.
   
   Text of the lecture presented at the Leiden University Institute for Religious Studies (LUIRS) on October 28, 2009; Website: www.petercusters.nl, e-mail: antimil@hotmail.com
   
   References:
   (1) for the political history of pre-colonial Bengal, see e.g. Jadunath Sarkar (ed.) History of Bengal. Volume 2 Muslim Period, 1200-1757 (Janaki Prakashan, Patna, India, 1977); and Willem van Schendel, A History of Bangladesh (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, UK, 2009); and Atulchandra Ray, ‘Maddha Juger Banglar Rajnoitik Gotidhara’ (in: Aniruddho Ray/Ratnaboli Chattopadhyay (ed.), Maddha Juge Banglar Samaj O Sanskriti (K.P. Bagchi and Company, Kolkota, India,1992, p.1);
   (2) for the history of the Chishtis’ entrance and establishment in the subcontinent, see notably Saiyid Athar Abbas Rizvi, A History of Sufism in India. Volume I. Early Sufism and its History in India to 1600 A.D. (Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers Pvt. Ltd., New Delhi, India, 1978), in particular Ch. Two and Four; for the history of the Chishtis’ arrival in Bengal – Mohammad Enamul Haque, A History of Sufi-ism in Bengal (Asiatic Society of Bangladesh, Dacca, Bangladesh, 1975), Ch.VI;
   (3) see Saiyid Athar Abbas Rizvi (1978), op.cit., illustration facing p.277;
   (4) see Richard Eaton, The Rise of Islam and the Bengal Frontier. 1204 -1760 (Oxford University Press, New Delhi, India, 2000, p.86 and p.93);
   (5) for this controversy, see e.g. Saiyid Athar Abbas Rizvi (1978), op.cit., p.105/106;
   (6) see e.g. S.A.A.Rizvi, ‘Islam in Medieval India’ (in: A.L.Basham (ed.), Cultural History of India - Oxford University Press, New Delhi, India, 1975), where the author records the conflict between the Chishtis and the disciples of Sheikh Ala ud-Daula Simnani who were opposed to Ibn Arabi’s theory of Wahdat Al-Wujud;
   English language sources on Ibn Arabi’s theory: A.E.Affifi, The Mystical Philosophy of Muhyid Din-Ibnul Arabi (Ashraf Press, Lahore, Pakistan, 1939/reprint undated); Rom Landau, The Philosophy of Ibn Arabi (George Allen & Unwin Ltd, London, UK, 1959); S.A.Q. Husaini, The Pantheistic Monism of Ibn Al-Árabi (Ashraf press, Lahore, Pakistan, 1970);
   For a summary of Ibn Arabi’s writings, see the website of the Ibn Arabi Society: www.ibnarabisociety.org/ for the Chishtis’ support for Ibn ‘Arabi’s theory, see also Saiyid Zaheer Husain Jafri/Helmut Reifeld (ed.), The Islamic Path. Sufis, Politics and Society in India (Rainbow Publishers, New Delhi, India, 2006);
   (7) see Karen Armstrong, A History of God (Vintage Books/Random House, New Delhi, India, 1999), p.276-282; also Annemarie Schimmel, Mystical Dimensions of Islam (The University of Carolina Press, Chapel Hill, USA, 1975), p.263-274, and p.431; for Rom Landau’s discussion on and translations from ‘The Interpreter of Longing’ (Tarjuman Al-Ashwaq), see Rom Landau (1959), op.cit., p.84 and p.91;
   (8) see Jayadev, ‘Gitagovinda’ (in: John B. Alphonso-Karkala, An Anthology of Indian Literature – Penguin Books, Middlesex, UK, 1971, p.502);
   (9) see notably the example described by Surinder Singh, ‘Islamic Mysticism in Northwest India: An Exploration of the Poetry of Khwaja Ghulam Farid (1841-1901 AD)’ (in: Saiyid Zaheer Husain Jafri/Helmut Reifeld (2006), op.cit., p.75);
   (10) see notably, Saiyid Zaheer Husain Jafri, ‘Sufism and the Present: Issues and Paradigms’ (Saiyid Zaheer Husain Jafri/Helmut Reifeld (2006), op.cit., p.15;
   (11) see e.g. Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Living Sufism (Unwin Paperbacks, London., UK, 1980), p.121;
   (12) see A.L.Basham (1975), op.cit., p.287;
   (13) see e.g. Nishat Manzar, ‘Mysticism and Humanism: Sufis as Poets, Connoisseurs of Music and Scholars of Comparative Religion and Mystic Philosophy’ (in: Saiyid Zaheer Husain Jafri/Helmut Reifeld (2006), op.cit., p.251);
   (14) Asim Roy, The Islamic Syncretistic Tradition in Bengal (Princeton University Press, Princeton, USA, 1983);
   (15) on the Qalandars, see e.g. Saiyid Athar Abbas Rizvi (1978), op.cit., Chapter Five, p.301; and Mohammad Enamul Haq (1975), op.cit., p.149-151;
   (16) see e.g. Saiyid Zaheer Husain Jafri, ’Religious Plurality in the Chishti Tradition. A Case Study of the Khanqah at Salon in Awadh’ (in: Jamal Malik/Helmut Reifeld (ed.), Religious Pluralism in South Asia and Europe (Oxford University Press, New Delhi, India, 2005, p.219);
   (17) see Richard Eaton (2000), op.cit., p.66;
   (18) on the Shattariya brotherhood, see Saiyid Athar Abbas Rizvi, A History of Sufism in India. Volume II. From Sixteenth Century to Modern Century (Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers Pvt. Ltd., New Delhi, India, 1983), Ch. Three, p.151;
   (19) see notably Hiteshranjan Sanyal, ‘Banglar Kirtan’ (in: Abantikumar Sanyal/Ashok Bhattacharya (ed.), Chaitanyadev. Itihash O Abadan (Sharaswata Library, Kolkota, India, 2002), p. 399;
   (19) for the economic context to the rise of Chaitanya’s cultural movement, see Aniruddho Ray, ‘Chaitanyadeb-er Amale Banglar Arthnoitik Itihaser Dhara’ (in: Abantikumar Sanyal/Ashok Bhattacharya (2002), op.cit., p.76);
   (20) for the significant case of Michael Servetus, burnt alive for the crime of heresy in the year 1553, near Geneva, Switserland, at the instigation of Calvijn, see Perez Zagorin, How the Idea of Religious Toleration Came to the West (Princeton University Press, New Jersey, USA, 1993, p.93).
   (22) see notably the book written by W.W. Hunter who was a member of the British civil service in Bengal: The Indian Musalmans (reprint: The Premier Book House, Lahore, Pakistan, 1964, Ch.IV, p.108); more recently, the historical facts on the destruction of Sufi educational institutions have been restated by Saiyid Zaheer Husain Jafri, ‘Madrasa Education and the State in Northern India: Issues of Ideology, Identity and Multiplicity in Pre, Colonial and Post-Colonial Era’ (Seoul National University, March 2009).

After qurbani …

We are soon going to celebrate one of our great religious occasions, Eid-ul-Azha. May I request that all our people dispose of the entrails of the sacrificed animals after qurbani in a hygienic way, so that it does not become a health hazard or an eye sore? Parts of carcasses lying around for days together, drawing attention of stray dogs, mar the sanctity of this holy event.
   Mushtaq Ahmad
   Shropshire, UK

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