Is Shimla’s landscape a churchscape?

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'A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments. So, while the light fails
On a winter's afternoon, in a secluded chapel
History is now’

T.S. Eliot

I was listening today to a speech by the Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, delivered at Lincoln Cathedral. In this speech he suggested that the church building is a witness of dependability: a place that speaks of a longer time scale and vision than most people work with. Given the way my mind works this of course set me thinking about Shimla and the way that the churches there create a sense of continuity with the past. In my previous post we discussed the way that interactions with heritage buildings give people a sense of rootedness and some of the problems with modernist architecture. It seems to me that the churches are particularly good at this form of Witness even though many of those most involved with them are unaware of this.

In thinking about such things I am reminded of Greenage’s book New Jersey Churchscape, in which he argues that New Jersey (known as the garden city) should really be known as a Churchscape, because the most iconic and eye catching feature of the landscape is the churches. Now, in Shimla as well the churches form a key aspect of the heritage landscape. Christ Church can be seen from virtually every angle on the mall and people are drawn to it.



But it also stands in dialogue with St Andrew’s, the former Scottish Church, which is today the Himachal Pradesh University's centre for evening studies. St Andrew’s Eastern alignment has been cleverly manipulated, by moving the tower to the side, which furthers the sense that the two churches are talking to each other across the expanse of the ridge.



St Michael’s by contrast is more tucked away at Ripon place, yet it is on a key route to the mall from the buss stand and along the mall from IIAS, as such it is something that you stumble upon through the trees, on your way to and from the mall like a hidden gem.



Is Shimla then also a city of Churchscapes? When people walk along the mall are they more drawn to secular buildings, such as Gaity theatre? Or is it the mass of Jakhoo hill, with the unseen presence of the temple atop, that calls to them? Or, are people drawn to the timeless mountains, snow-capped in winter, that tower above Shimla from afar?

If the continuing growth of modern architecture threatens to ruin the landscape of Shimla, is it the old Colonial architecture that makes it? Or, is this also something that intrudes on the true beauty of Shimla, which is the Himalayan peaks and forests?

Heritage and Identity

Everyone knows that Shimla mall has a special landscape; it evokes, provokes and draws people from all over the county. In Shimla there is a wonderful sign which reads ‘Our built heritage is out identity’. But what identity does Shimla’s built heritage give? And how does it fit with wider national identity? I remember asking this one afternoon to a wonderful, wise, old resident of Shimla as we strolled along the Mall, after taking some cardamom tea in Honey Hut. He was very uncomfortable with the question and became unusually irritable: in nearly a year of acquaintance the only time I had seen this side of him before was when I talked of holding a football training session on a strip of grass near his house. I am still a bit puzzled today as to why he was so reticent to discuss this, but I also feel that there is something about the question that is unsettling. I will mull on this over some supper and perhaps post more on it soon.

Caste and Christianity

I have been reading today about the problems of caste divisions within Christian churches in India. According to Robinson et al Caste divisions have often been present in church Congregations. A famous historical case is the church at Vadakkankulam, in Tamil Nadu, which in the mid 19th Century had a 20 foot high brick barrier running down the centre, which divided high and low caste congregants. In more recent times Caplan noticed in Madras a considerable conflict between high caste and low caste members of the church. This all makes me wonder about the churches in Shimla and if Caste politics ever plays out there?. Although there is no physical wall dividing people in Christ Church or St Michaels is there a less visible yet nevertheless just as real division?

On the whole people never explicitly raised the issue of caste with me in Shimla – this goes for both Christian and non–Christian Shimlites. I do remember scattered occasions, but these were rare and fleeting moments. One such moment occurred during tea one Sunday when a member of one of the two churches mentioned to me that Caste division still occurs in the villages around Shimla, a claim which was backed by an offer to take me to villages where people of a lower caste are not allowed in certain public buildings. I remember that I declined the kind offer, but asked if caste was ever an issue in Shimla itself, -‘you’d be surprised’ they replied in a lowered voice. Other than this caste never really presented itself explicitly to me and I wonder if it is because of an obsession with caste by academics (post Dumont) rather than the centrality of caste in lived reality that causes it to crop up so much in literature about Christians of India?

This is not to say that I didn’t spot denominational and inter–denominational divisions in the Christian (and wider) communities of Shimla, it is rather that these were never articulated explicitly as caste divisions. Rather they were stressed as divisions of upbringing (whether one is from a good family), and/or education. There was also a division between those who saw themselves as maintainers of tradition and those who saw themselves as reformers of a tradition that could be at times overly exclusive. Not to mention issues of regionalism, language, styles of worship and economic background that all divided the congregations in clear ways. Are all these things symptoms of Casteism? Or are they rather symptoms of more universal phenomenon that occur the world over whenever a diverse group of people are brought into communion with each other?

Shimla Now and Then

I came across a rather startling blog entry by a young Goan while surfing the web for information on the early Goan church other day (http://lilliandcosta.wordpress.com/2009/05/04/goa-was-better-off-in-the-hands-of-the-portuguese/). The title of the post was Goa was better off in the hands of the Portuguese. Now, I don’t think anyone I met in Shimla would go as far as to say such a thing as Shimla was better off in the hands of the British, yet I did encounter many parishioners (both Catholic and Protestant) who believed (rightly or wrongly) that the guidance of the church and the young benefitted in the past from a greater contact with European clergy. Of course any such opinions are by nature speculative and subjective, yet they are also revealing of the way that many Shimlites (especially Christian Shimlites) find themselves at the centre of a tension between what was, is and shall be.