From Babri To Ram Mandir: 32 Years Of Transformation And Tension In Ayodhya

The spectacle of the Ram Mandir was inaugurated on January 22, 2024. Its journey, however, began decades earlier—on December 6, 1992—when the symbolic brick of what stands today was set in motion through the fall of the Babri Masjid. The event left a lasting mark on India’s socio-political landscape.

A key figure in this decades-long dispute was the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI). In Outlook Magazine’s February 11, 2025 issue, What ‘lies’ beneath, Saiyyad Mohammad Nizamuddin Pasha highlighted how employing archaeology as evidence has a troubling track record.

After a detailed analysis of the long and technical report submitted by the ASI, the Supreme Court accepted the findings that in the layers of soil underlying the now-demolished mosque, there was evidence of religious structures from earlier periods—specifically, a circular shrine dating to the 7th–9th century AD and a later structure immediately beneath the Babri Masjid, built over the earlier shrine around the 12th century. However, the precise question referred to the ASI was whether any temple or structure had been demolished to construct the mosque. The ASI could not answer this definitively, as it found no evidence explaining how the first shrine was buried or how the 12th-century structure came to be destroyed.

Despite this, the Supreme Court delivered a judgment in favor of the Hindu side. The result? The temple town of Ayodhya now stands in all its glory. The new Ayodhya, remodelled as a grand temple town, exudes celebratory spirit and promises rapid development, but a closer look reveals its contradictions and underlying discontent.

In Outlook Magazine’s February 1, 2024 issue, In The Name Of Ram, Tanul Thakur wrote about the dualities that mark Ayodhya 2.0: what it shows and what it hides; what it was and what it will be. Not long ago, many devout Hindus harked back to their ‘glorious past,’ the Ram Rajya, to assuage anxieties and hone identity. Now, they eagerly await the future: Godot will arrive any moment, sitting atop the “sone ki chidiya,” flapping her wings. Or consider their cynosure—Lord Ram, both an infant (“Ram Lalla”), someone to protect, and a warrior, Shri Ram, someone to pray to.

Even the town’s architecture reflects this duality: the divider on Ram Janmabhoomi Path holds elegant lamp posts; paints pop, and roads glow. Yet step into a narrow gulley off the main bazaar, and you find Ayodhya 1.0: crowded, cramped, chaotic. Cars have grown; lanes have not. Spend time here, and the town sheds its mask, a place tired of pretending, posing, posturing.

This duality highlights the stories of neglect and transformation. Vikram Raj reported how residents felt: the once-serene town had lost its peaceful charm to overwhelming grandiosity. While the influx of visitors highlights the town’s prominence, it has raised concerns about overcrowding and strain on local infrastructure. Present-day Ayodhya is a striking contrast to its past. Commercialization dominates, and locals question the cultural cost of this transformation.

The Pran Pratishtha ceremony and the Ram Mandir are not merely about optics, they have reshaped India’s political landscape. Following Hindu tradition has become a new buzz in governance. In Ramaisation of Indian Politics, Sanjay Nirupam noted how a once-reluctant BJP leveraged the construction of the Ram temple as a key poll plank for the 2024 general elections. No longer hesitant, Prime Minister Modi himself hosted the ceremony on January 22, with top film stars and cricket players in attendance. Is it Ram Rajya? Not exactly. But the country seems undeniably captivated by Lord Ram.