BEING HONEST ON BOTH SIDES: THE ANTIDOTE TO HYPOCRISY

In Malaysia, a country built upon the beauty of diversity, being honest on both sides is not just a personal virtue—it is a national necessity.

Whether in politics, religion, race relations, or social issues, honesty across the board is the foundation of unity. It means being just, fair, and balanced, regardless of whose side we’re on. It calls us to rise above tribal loyalty and partisan rhetoric, and to stand by what is right—even when it is uncomfortable.

To be honest on both sides is to be consistent. It is to judge ourselves by the same standards we use on others. We don’t pick and choose the truth based on convenience or colour. We don’t pretend to be moral while bending the truth to serve our side. We speak the truth, seek it, and stand for it—especially when it is inconvenient.

This principle is deeply rooted in every major faith tradition practiced in Malaysia.

In the Qur’an, God commands justice even when it goes against our own interests:

“O you who have believed, be persistently standing firm in justice, witnesses for Allah, even if it be against yourselves or parents and relatives…”

(Surah An-Nisa 4:135)

Similarly, in the Bible, we are told:

“Do not judge by appearances, but judge with right judgment.”

(John 7:24)

And also,

“Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but fail to notice the beam in your own?”

(Matthew 7:3)

The Buddhist Dhammapada teaches:

“The fault of others is easily seen; one’s own fault is difficult to see.”

(Dhammapada, Verse 252)

And from the Bhagavad Gita in Hinduism:

“Perform your duty with an even mind, abandoning all attachment to success or failure. Such evenness of mind is called yoga.”

(Bhagavad Gita 2:48)

These teachings echo the same wisdom: honesty, self-reflection, and fairness are core to spiritual growth and social harmony.

So, who then are the hypocrites?

Hypocrites are those who pretend to live by high principles but bend them when it benefits their side. They are harsh in judging others, yet lenient with themselves. They twist narratives to win debates, not to 9 are threatened by accountability and angered by honest feedback. In public, they preach morality; in private, they practice double standards.

In the Qur’an, hypocrisy is condemned in strong terms:

“Do you order righteousness to the people and forget yourselves while you recite the Scripture? Then will you not reason?”

(Surah Al-Baqarah 2:44)

How, then, do we avoid being hypocrites and instead become people who are honest on both sides?

Start with ikhlas—sincerity. Let justice and truth be your guiding lights. Make it a habit to consider both sides of any argument before forming a conclusion. Better still, look for a third way—an inclusive solution that benefits all. Be harder on yourself before you are hard on others. Let your actions reflect your principles. If you preach unity, practice empathy. If you stand for justice, live it at home, at work, and in public life.

Practice moderation. In Islam, the Prophet ﷺ was sent as a bringer of balance:

“And thus We have made you a just community (ummatan wasatan)...”

(Surah Al-Baqarah 2:143)

Malaysia needs more wasatiyyah—the middle path. We need leaders and citizens alike who are brave enough to be fair to both friend and foe. We need to reward truth, not tribalism.

Let us remind ourselves: when we are honest on both sides, we are not weak—we are principled. We are not fence-sitters—we are bridge-builders. We are not neutral—we are fair.

And in doing so, we honour the spirit of all our traditions, and we help build a more united Malaysia.

Let us be honest on both sides, and never be hypocrites.

Let us be the bridge Malaysia needs.

— Anas Zubedy

I WAS ONCE ACCUSED OF BEING ANTI-SEMITIC BY A FELLOW MALAYSIAN 😊

 

For nearly two decades since 2001, my company has placed full-page advertisements in The Star newspaper during festive seasons. These ads typically carried messages of unity, cooperation, and peace.

In 2006, for the Aidilfitri celebration, our message was part of the “Imagine” series. The advertisement read as follows:

“ Imagine… Peace in the Middle East

It breaks our hearts each time we see the innocent especially children hurt, made homeless and murdered regardless whether they are Arabs or Jews. In our hearts we all want an end to the conflict.

To make peace, we must first understand Jew insecurity and comprehend why they opted for the Zionist solution. We must empathize with their history of persecution and pogroms, identify with their need to be both Jew and free. Free to reach their highest potential and contribute to humanity just like any other community.

Ironically, Jews experienced the longest peace and freedom to practice Judaism; their way of life, during Muslim rule. The Covenant of Medina gave them the rights and dignity to join the human race and made them universal citizens and put an end to the status of an exiled outlaw.

They were free to live, contribute and be Jews in any corner of the Muslim administrative. Judaism prospered. It is no exaggeration to say that Islam is the best friend Judaism ever had.

Jews were free and secure for centuries when Muslims were united and strong. Jew security and freedom was tied to Muslim unity and success. Muslim Unity can go a long way to bring peace in the Middle East.

Here Malaysia can contribute. Islam Hadhari can be a catalyst for Muslim Unity. The Malaysian constitution resembles The Covenant of Medina where Islam is the official religion and other traditions are allowed the freedom to practice and prosper. Our history of compromise and working together is a living example and a workable model. Our framework is peace and respect for each other’s way of life. Malaysians can show the way.

The prerequisite for any community to be successful is Peace. Peace requires change from both sides. Jews must realise that Zionism cannot bring about security, they must work with Muslims and return what is not theirs to the Palestinians. Muslims must get their act together, unite and becoming strong again to set the platform for peace in the Middle East.

Imagine you and I… changing the world for the better!”

Typically, our ads receive positive feedback from fellow Malaysians. Many call or write in with words of encouragement, thanking us and urging us to continue the good work.

However, this particular ad drew a different kind of response.

A few days after the advert appeared, my personal assistant passed me a phone call from an elderly Malaysian gentleman. He began by asking if I was the one who wrote the advert. Expecting the usual kind words, I happily said yes.

His next question took me by surprise:

“Are you anti-Semitic?”

I laughed out loud and replied, “Absolutely not!”

But he insisted that I was. Calmly, I responded, “Brother, I have Arab ancestry. I’m one of the Semitic people. I cannot be anti-myself, can I?”

There was a pause. Then, he shouted, “What nonsense are you talking about?” I was about to explain who the Semitic people are, but he abruptly hung up.

That exchange made me realise how little many Malaysians—perhaps many people in general—know about the term “Semitic.” So, let me briefly explain.

Who Are the Semitic People?

To understand who the Semitic peoples are, it’s important to see them not as a single race or ethnic group, but as a family of languages and cultures that have evolved over thousands of years. What unites them is not only shared ancestry but also the languages they speak and the deep historical contributions they’ve made to human civilization—especially in religion, philosophy, and science.

The term “Semitic” comes from Shem, one of Prophet Noah’s sons, as mentioned in the Bible. In the 18th century, European scholars began using this name to classify a group of languages, including Hebrew, Arabic, Aramaic, and Akkadian. Over time, the term came to refer to the peoples who spoke these languages.

In ancient times, Semitic peoples were central to early human civilizations, especially in the Middle East and North Africa. The Akkadians established one of the earliest empires in Mesopotamia. Other major Semitic groups included the Amorites, Canaanites, Arameans, and Phoenicians—who spread their alphabet and culture across the Mediterranean. The Hebrews, who became the Jews, were also part of this broader Semitic world. Aramaic became the lingua franca of the region and was even spoken during the time of Jesus.

Today, Semitic peoples include Jews, Arabs, Assyrians, Maltese, and Ethiopian groups such as the Amhara and Tigray. Arabic is now the most widely spoken Semitic language and the language of the Qur’an. Hebrew, once mostly dormant, has been revived as the national language of Israel. Aramaic still survives in small Christian communities, and Maltese—written in the Latin alphabet—is the only Semitic language that is also an official language of the European Union.

A Final Reflection

The Qur’an, revealed in Arabic, belongs to the Semitic family of languages. Arabic is a Central Semitic language within the Afroasiatic linguistic group, and today it is spoken not only across the Middle East and North Africa but also recited daily by Muslims around the world.

So, when someone accuses another of being “anti-Semitic,” it’s important to understand what the term truly encompasses. Criticizing unjust policies or calling for peace is not hatred—it is, in fact, a call for understanding, justice, and unity not just among all Semitic brothers and sisters, but humanity as a whole.

Peace, anas

BUS CRASHES – WHO IS AT FAULT?

Sayidina Umar ibn al-Khattab once said:

“If a mule were to stumble in Iraq, I fear that Allah would ask me: O Umar, why did you not pave the road for it?”

This profound statement reflects the deep sense of accountability that early Muslim leaders held—not just for people, but for every living being under their care. It reminds us that leadership is not about status or position, but responsibility—especially for what goes wrong.

In Malaysia, over the past few months, we’ve witnessed a disturbing number of bus and lorry crashes. Lives have been lost. Families shattered. Futures erased in seconds.

Who is at fault?

Is it the driver who was overworked and under-rested?

The company that pushed for unreasonable hours to maximise profit?

The enforcement agency that turned a blind eye to vehicle conditions?

The policymaker who failed to improve road safety regulations?

The public who stays silent after each tragedy?

If Sayidina Umar were alive today, he would not look to blame others first. He would ask himself:

“What could I have done to prevent this?”

Until we reach that level of collective responsibility, accidents will keep happening—and the innocent will keep dying.

Let us honour the trust placed upon us—whether as leaders, managers, voters, citizens, or even just fellow road users.

Because accountability isn’t just a legal issue.

It’s a moral and spiritual one.

Peace, anas

ISRAEL, THE PALESTINIANS, AND THE CHILDREN WE’RE LOSING

 

ISRAEL, THE PALESTINIANS, AND THE CHILDREN WE’RE LOSING

Ending Proxy Politics and Rethinking Peace in the Middle East

I write this as a Muslim. The Qur’an is my compass.

It shapes how I see the world, how I define justice, and how I understand conflict and peace. And it is from this compass that I draw three verses—verses that should guide not only Muslims, but anyone who truly values life, dignity, and coexistence.

“Whoever kills a soul—it is as if he had slain all of humanity. And whoever saves a soul—it is as if he had saved all of humanity.” (Surah al-Ma’idah 5:32)

“Repel evil with what is better—then the one between whom and you was hatred will become as though he were your closest friend.” (Surah Fussilat 41:34)

“Fight in the way of God those who fight you, but do not transgress. Truly, God does not love transgressors.” (Surah al-Baqarah 2:190)

These are not verses of vague moralism. They are principles for life, law, and foreign policy. And they form the backbone of what I am about to say.

The death of even one innocent person—whether they are Zionist, Arab, Jew, Muslim, Christian, Druze, or atheist—is not acceptable. It is not just a spiritual wrong. It is a political failure. A strategic miscalculation. A moral catastrophe.

In every conflict in the Middle East—whether it be in Gaza, Syria, southern Lebanon, Yemen, or elsewhere—it is the innocent who suffer most. The child who never asked for war. The father who simply went to the market. The mother who never saw her son return. Their deaths are not just numbers. They are stories that ended too soon.

And today, in the heart of this suffering, stands a question that Israel—and the entire region—must answer: What kind of future are we building?

Israel’s current path is one of military supremacy, fortified borders, occupation, and uncritical support from Western powers—particularly the United States. But it is surrounded by over 400 million Arabs. And it exists in a region that is shifting. America will not remain the sole global superpower. China, India, Russia, and regional players like Iran, Turkey, and Saudi Arabia are gaining ground. To base survival on Western dominance is to bet on a strategy that cannot last.

And here, I must speak directly to the Israeli people. The peace option is not just morally superior—it is strategically wiser. If Israel continues its current path, it will face demographic pressures, deepening global isolation, and endless cycles of retaliation that no amount of firepower can resolve. The future is not with those who promise domination—it is with those who can imagine coexistence.

This means Israelis must begin to choose leaders who see beyond the short term, who are not driven by fear or political gain, but by vision. Leaders who recognize that military control over another people cannot be maintained forever without losing one's own soul—and ultimately one's security. The current model is myopic. It creates the illusion of strength, but guarantees instability. A sustainable future requires a strategic shift. This shift must begin in the voting booth, in public discourse, and in the hearts of the people.

Influential lobbies like AIPAC and the broader Zionist establishment must also rethink their strategies. What may look clever today—insulating Israel through power, lobbying, and suppression of criticism—will look tragically short-sighted tomorrow. Their energies would be better spent championing a regional peace built on justice, coexistence, and mutual benefit. The role of these organizations could be transformative if redirected toward diplomacy, bridge-building, and reconciliation.

But Israel is not alone in needing to shift. The broader Middle East must also move. Too many Arab and Muslim countries have become vessels for foreign powers, their foreign policies written not in Arabic or Persian or Turkish, but in the languages of their patrons. This reality, a leftover from the post-World War II order, has rendered many nations into battlegrounds for foreign ambitions.

Like Europe, which is beginning to reflect critically on its own dependency on the United States, the Middle East must assert itself. It must write its own foreign policy—not to serve Moscow or Washington or Beijing—but to serve the people of the region.

And this can only happen with peace.

Peace is not a soft word. It is the most powerful word in diplomacy. It opens doors to economic unions, water sharing, technology exchange, educational partnerships, and a new collective identity. Imagine an Eastern Mediterranean Economic Zone. Imagine shared pipelines, solar energy corridors, and joint universities. Imagine tourists flowing across borders, not soldiers.

But none of this can happen while children die in airstrikes. While homes are bulldozed. While settlements expand. While entire populations remain stateless and voiceless.

This is why I return to those Qur’anic verses. Because they remind me that the moral path and the strategic path are, in this case, the same.

“Whoever kills a soul—it is as if he had slain all of humanity.”

“Repel evil with what is better.”

“Do not transgress. God does not love transgressors.”

These are not uniquely Islamic teachings. The Bible echoes them: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children of God.” (Matthew 5:9). Hindu scripture declares, “Ahimsa paramo dharmah”—Nonviolence is the highest duty. In Buddhist texts, we read: “Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal law.”

Peace is not the property of any one religion or people. It is the common language of our better angels.

So I write this not just to Muslims. Not just to Israelis. Not just to Arabs or Americans or diplomats. I write this to you, the reader—wherever you are. We need to start talking, seriously, openly, and urgently, about the better option. We need to begin conversations across the dinner table, across political aisles, across religious lines.

A Middle Eastern peace will not just transform the region. It will ripple across the globe. It will de-escalate tensions in Europe, stabilize energy markets, reduce global military spending, and give millions a chance at life, dignity, and a future.

Let us not wait for another war. Let us not wait for more innocent names to be added to the list of the dead.

Let us start now—with courage, honesty, and compassion. Not because it is easy, but because it is necessary.

Because if one child were yours, peace would no longer be optional. It would be the only way forward.

Peace.

Anas Zubedy

28/6/25

IS CYPRUS AT RISK OF A ZIONIST STRATEGIC TAKEOVER?

 IS CYPRUS AT RISK OF A ZIONIST STRATEGIC TAKEOVER? A HISTORICAL AND GEOPOLITICAL DIALOGUE – A dialogue with ChatGPT 27/6/25

The Question That Sparked It All

It began with a question that, on the surface, seemed provocative: Is Cyprus in danger of a Zionist takeover? At first glance, the notion might strike one as alarmist — a blend of geopolitical anxiety and conspiracy. But as the question unfolded into a discussion shaped by history, risk analysis, and strategic context, a far more sobering and reasoned picture began to emerge.

This was not a claim of tanks landing or embassies declaring independence. It was a question about patterns — about the Zionist movement’s historical behavior, about land, narrative, and influence — and whether Cyprus, a small but strategically significant Mediterranean nation, might slowly become a space of growing, unchecked foreign leverage.

Zionist History: A Movement of Strategy and Shifting Geography

To understand whether Cyprus could become a new target, we revisited the origins of Zionist territorial ambitions. It is well known that Palestine became the spiritual and practical center of the movement, but less well-remembered is the fact that it was not the only land under consideration. In its early days, the Zionist movement was territorialist, not exclusively “Palestinist.”

Argentina was once suggested as a viable option. Uganda was proposed by the British and debated at the 1903 Zionist Congress. Even the Sinai Peninsula and Cyprus were part of the conversation. Theodor Herzl himself noted Cyprus’s strategic location, fertile land, and manageable local population. British Zionists in the early 20th century advocated its colonization. During the 1940s, the island even became a British-run detention zone for Jewish refugees bound for Palestine — adding an emotional dimension to its place in Zionist memory.

Though Palestine ultimately eclipsed all alternatives due to its deep biblical resonance and the unfolding dynamics of the British Mandate, the fact remains: Cyprus was considered seriously and strategically. That fact alone lends gravity to the current question.

A Present-Day Echo: Land, Enclaves, and Quiet Expansion

Fast forward to today, and a familiar pattern appears — not as policy, but as behavior. Israeli nationals have been buying land across Cyprus, including in sensitive coastal and semi-military zones. Cypriot lawmakers, alarmed by these purchases, have proposed restrictions on non-EU buyers. There is concern that parts of the island could, in time, become de facto enclaves — not through force, but through capital.

Alongside property, civil infrastructure is growing. There are reports of Hebrew-language schools, synagogues, kosher restaurants, and culturally clustered communities forming around the Limassol area and beyond. None of these developments are illegal or hostile on their face. But in geopolitical analysis, motive is less important than pattern — and this pattern echoes how Zionist communities slowly consolidated presence, identity, and leverage in pre-1948 Palestine.

This prompted a deeper question: Could Cyprus be evolving — quietly, subtly — into a Zionist “Plan B”?

Risk Management as a Lens: Filtering Paranoia from Possibility

To separate fear from fact, we turned to a more disciplined framework: strategic risk analysis. Using the structure of ISO-style risk management — identifying threats, assessing likelihood, evaluating potential impact — we mapped the landscape.

The signs, though not definitive, are significant. Civilian land acquisition by Israeli nationals is not scattered but clustered in areas of economic and geopolitical importance. The development of communal institutions, particularly those independent from Cypriot public systems, suggests the potential for parallel infrastructures. On top of that, the security alliance between Cyprus and Israel is growing. The two countries conduct joint military exercises, share defense technology, and collaborate on energy exploration in the Mediterranean. This creates a growing dependency vector — one where soft power can become policy leverage.

While there is no evidence of any formal Zionist or Israeli state plan to “take over” Cyprus, the confluence of historical precedent, soft infrastructure building, and state-to-state dependency warrants scrutiny. Strategic influence rarely begins with headlines. It begins with habits, presence, and leverage.

If Not Palestine, Then Where?

Then came a speculative but grounded leap: If Israel were to become increasingly nonviable — through internal unrest, demographic pressure, regional war, or diplomatic collapse — where might Zionist interests look next?

History offers a clue. In its early stages, Zionism was pragmatic. Its goal was a safe, self-governing homeland — not necessarily in Palestine. If that original territorialist logic resurfaces under existential duress, certain locations become natural candidates. Cyprus ranks high among them.

It is proximate to Israel. It is relatively small, politically divided, and dependent on tourism and foreign capital. There is already a visible and growing Israeli civilian presence. It has shared military interests with Tel Aviv. And perhaps most crucially, it has already been part of the Zionist imagination — once before.

In this hypothetical future, Cyprus would not be conquered. It would be absorbed — economically, culturally, strategically — by degrees.

A Soft Takeover: Not Fantasy, but Foresight

What emerges is not a conspiracy, but a contingency. Should conditions in the Middle East force a recalibration of Zionist geography, Cyprus is one of the few places where a narrative could be built, a presence expanded, and a “second homeland” imagined — slowly, subtly, and within legal bounds.

Such a process would not require tanks or declarations. It would rely on real estate law, diplomatic relationships, military cooperation, cultural clustering, and humanitarian storytelling. The very tools that allowed Zionism to succeed in Palestine — land, narrative, security, and patience — could be replicated elsewhere under new names and modern legal covers.

The early signs are already visible. The question is whether Cypriot policymakers, civil society, and EU allies are paying attention.

Final Reflection: History Doesn’t Repeat — It Rhymes

In the end, the answer to the initial question — Is Cyprus in danger of a Zionist takeover? — must be qualified.

No, Cyprus is not being forcibly overtaken. At least not yet.

Yes, Cyprus may be slipping — softly, legally, and incrementally — into a zone of foreign strategic influence that resembles past Zionist expansions.

It is not alarmism to observe a pattern; it is prudence. The key lies not in fear, but in foresight. Cyprus must act now — not to isolate any group, but to safeguard its sovereignty by learning from the past.

As the saying goes: Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it. But in this case, those who recognize the rhyme may still have time to rewrite the verse.

HAPPY 31ST ZUBEDYSARY

Today, we proudly celebrate the 31st anniversary of Zubedy (M) Sdn Bhd — a Malaysian-grown organization that has spent over three decades helping corporate Malaysia grow not just in performance, but in heart and purpose.

Since its founding on May 24, 1994, Zubedy has been a trusted partner for business organizations seeking meaningful and lasting development. Through their signature approach — rooted in values, unity, and practical wisdom — Zubedy has designed and delivered high-impact training, consulting, mentoring, and organizational development programs that empower leaders and employees alike. Their clients span industries, from finance and telecommunications to government-linked companies and SMEs, each gaining from Zubedy’s ability to blend corporate goals with human-centered leadership.

At the core of Zubedy’s work is a deep understanding that business success is tied to human values. Their programs, such as the 3-Day Leadership & Management Program, have been lauded for bridging performance with ethics, strategy with empathy, and structure with soul. Over the years, they have helped thousands of corporate professionals become better communicators, decision-makers, team players, and above all — better people.

Beyond the boardroom, Zubedy has led the way in promoting unity and nation-building. For more than 10 years their groundbreaking #SaySomethingNice national unity campaigns took corporate social responsibility to a whole new level. Through high-visibility advertisements, public outreach, and collaborative events, Zubedy encouraged businesses to become agents of peace and goodwill. Their message: we can build a more meaningful Malaysia by bringing people together — one kind word, one shared value, one organization at a time.

Zubedy’s unique impact lies in its ability to straddle both worlds — corporate performance and social cohesion — proving that the two are not only compatible but necessary partners for sustainable success.

As Zubedy (M) Sdn Bhd turns 31, we salute their unwavering commitment to helping organizations become more productive, more human, and more united. Here's to many more years of guiding Malaysia’s business community toward excellence with heart.

Happy 31st Anniversary, Zubedy! Thank you for adding value to people and organizations alike.

(from ChatGPT :) )

REDISCOVERING HINDU-MUSLIM HARMONY IN INDIA’S SHARED PAST - A summary of Audrey Truschke’s thesis.

 

REDISCOVERING HINDU-MUSLIM HARMONY IN INDIA’S SHARED PAST - A summary of Audrey Truschke’s thesis.

Audrey Truschke is a prominent American historian and scholar of South Asian history, currently teaching at Rutgers University. With advanced degrees from the University of Chicago and Columbia, Truschke is known for her rigorous and often controversial work on Indo-Muslim relations, Mughal history, and Sanskrit literature. She has emerged as a bold voice challenging colonial-era narratives that continue to shape popular perceptions of India’s past.

Her books, especially “Aurangzeb: The Man and the Myth” and “Culture of Encounters: Sanskrit at the Mughal Court”, have sparked widespread debate by questioning long-standing stereotypes about Muslim rulers and Hindu-Muslim relations in pre-colonial India.

Drawing from Persian, Sanskrit, and archival sources, Truschke argues that the Indian subcontinent’s history is far more complex and interconnected than the communal divisions emphasized in modern retellings.

A Shared Past, Not a Divided One

One of Truschke’s central arguments is that Hindus and Muslims shared a long, intertwined history of coexistence, mutual respect, and cultural exchange long before the British arrived. While modern political discourse often highlights religious conflict, Truschke encourages readers to reexamine how historical periods like the Mughal Empire were marked not by communal strife, but by pluralism and pragmatic governance.

She points to Mughal emperors—most notably Akbar and even the controversial Aurangzeb—as rulers who worked within a multireligious framework, often employing Hindu officials, respecting regional customs, and engaging with non-Muslim intellectual traditions. The Mughal court, Truschke reveals, was not just a center of Islamic power but also a site of Sanskrit learning, interreligious dialogue, and literary collaboration.

For example, Akbar invited Hindu scholars to debate theology in his court and even had Hindu epics like the Mahabharata and Ramayana translated into Persian, the court language, making them accessible to a broader audience. This was not merely political—Truschke suggests it reflected a genuine cultural curiosity and respect for India’s diverse traditions.

Rethinking Aurangzeb: The Man Behind the Myth

Perhaps Truschke’s most controversial work is her reassessment of Aurangzeb, often depicted in Indian popular memory as a fanatical, temple-destroying tyrant.

While she does not romanticize his reign, she argues that many of the accusations leveled against Aurangzeb stem from colonial historiography and Hindu nationalist interpretations, not from careful historical analysis.

According to Truschke:

Aurangzeb patronized Hindu temples early in his reign.

He employed more Hindus in his administration than any other Mughal emperor.

His temple destructions, though real, were political acts during military campaigns, not expressions of religious hatred.

She acknowledges Aurangzeb’s religious orthodoxy, but insists that we must view his policies in their historical context, rather than through the lens of modern identity politics.

Truschke’s nuanced portrait emphasizes that Mughal policies were often pragmatic rather than dogmatic, with rulers adjusting to the complexities of governing a vast and diverse empire.

The British and the Birth of the Hindu-Muslim Divide

Perhaps the most compelling part of Truschke’s work is her critique of how the British colonial project distorted Indian history, sowing seeds of division that still bear fruit today.

She explains that the British, especially during the 19th century, reinterpreted India’s past to justify their rule—framing Muslim rulers as foreign oppressors and Hindus as native victims.

Through their educational systems, translations, and colonial administration, the British promoted a "communal interpretation" of history, emphasizing conflict and downplaying centuries of coexistence.

British scholars selectively highlighted temple destructions, ignored Persian-Sanskrit exchanges, and depicted Islamic rulers as uniformly oppressive.

This “divide-and-rule” strategy, Truschke argues, hardened religious identities and rewrote public memory, setting the stage for the Hindu-Muslim animosity that exploded in the 20th century, particularly during the Partition. She believes that revisiting precolonial history with academic honesty and empathy can help heal these historical wounds.

Recovering the Threads of Unity

Truschke’s work invites both Hindu and Muslim readers to move beyond the simplistic narratives of perpetual conflict, and instead rediscover the shared experiences, cultural overlaps, and political partnerships that defined much of India’s history. Rather than focusing solely on moments of violence, she urges us to also remember:

The Sanskrit poets who served in Muslim courts.

The Muslim kings who commissioned Hindu temple repairs.

The interfaith marriages, art, and literature that thrived under Mughal patronage.

The collective resistance to British rule, where Hindus and Muslims stood side by side.

By acknowledging this rich tapestry of collaboration, Truschke’s vision is not merely academic—it is deeply relevant to today’s society. In an age where religious tensions are again being stoked for political gain, her scholarship offers a powerful reminder that India's history is not defined by division, but by diversity.

Conclusion: A Call for Historical Honesty

Audrey Truschke’s work is not without critics, especially among those invested in communal or nationalist interpretations of the past. But her contribution to rethinking South Asian history is undeniable.

She challenges us to confront inherited myths, question colonial distortions, and above all, to remember that Hindus and Muslims were not destined enemies, but neighbors, colleagues, and fellow creators of a shared civilization.

If we are to build a peaceful and united future, Truschke reminds us, we must first reclaim the truth of our past.

Peace,

ANAS – assisted by AI -ChatGPT

Audrey Truschke is not alone. A number of respected historians and scholars—both Indian and international—have echoed and expanded on the idea that Hindu-Muslim relations before British rule were not defined primarily by conflict, and that colonialism played a key role in creating communal divisions. Here are some key voices:

1. Richard Eaton

Works:

“India in the Persianate Age: 1000–1765”

“Temple Desecration and Muslim States in Medieval India”

Key Ideas:

Eaton challenges the narrative that Muslim rulers were primarily temple-destroying invaders. He shows that temple desecration was a political act, not a religious one, and that even Hindu kings engaged in similar practices.

He argues that the Indo-Islamic period was one of assimilation, not domination, and highlights the cultural synthesis that flourished during the Delhi Sultanate and Mughal eras.

2. Romila Thapar

Works:

“Somanatha: The Many Voices of a History”

“The Past as Present”

Key Ideas:

Thapar is a renowned Indian historian who debunks communal versions of Indian history. In her work on the Somanatha temple, she demonstrates that different communities had different versions of the same event, and that British colonialists chose to emphasize the most divisive ones.

She promotes a view of Indian history as fluid, pluralistic, and interconnected.

3. Asher and Talbot

Work:

“India Before Europe”

Key Ideas:

Barbara Metcalf and Thomas Metcalf (in broader works) and Catherine Asher with Cynthia Talbot (in India Before Europe) present India’s pre-modern history as a shared civilizational space, where religious identities were not rigid, and where syncretism was a defining feature.

They argue that religious identities hardened during the colonial era, especially under the pressures of modern nationalism and census classifications.

4. Harbans Mukhia

Works:

“The Mughals of India”

Key Ideas:

Mukhia argues that the Mughals were not foreign invaders but a part of Indian society, rooted in Indian soil, who interacted deeply with local cultures. He critiques the binary view of "Hindu victim–Muslim aggressor" and instead portrays a complex, pluralistic society.

He stresses that the idea of religious identity as the primary marker of politics or society is a modern construction.

5. Muzaffar Alam and Sanjay Subrahmanyam

Works:

“Writing the Mughal World”

“Courtly Encounters: Translating Courtliness and Violence in Early Modern Eurasia”

Key Ideas:

These scholars highlight cross-cultural diplomacy, shared literary traditions, and multi-religious court cultures. They present the Mughal world as internationally engaged and intellectually vibrant, rather than narrowly religious or divisive.

6. Ayesha Jalal

Works:

“Self and Sovereignty”

“The Sole Spokesman: Jinnah, the Muslim League and the Demand for Pakistan”

Key Ideas:

Although her main work focuses on the 20th century, Jalal traces the roots of Hindu-Muslim division to colonial administrative policies, not medieval times. She stresses that identity politics were shaped under British rule, particularly through the census and legal systems.

7. Irfan Habib

Works:

“Medieval India: The Study of a Civilization”

“Essays in Indian History: Towards a Marxist Perception”

Key Ideas:

Habib points out that economic, political, and class dynamics mattered more than religion in many medieval conflicts. He critiques the communal reading of history and stresses the secular nature of governance in many medieval states, including the Mughals.