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.

Three in One

I think that what I have been trying to suggest is that Shimla city moves its average visitor through a journey of sacred spaces. Starting with the lift Temple associated with the modern era, noise, chaos, humanity, the absence of beauty, being enclosed, darkness, limited visibility etc. To Christ Church and the ridge, associated with the Colonial era, quiet, manmade order, humanity pointing to nature, manmade beauty inspired by nature, both overlooking and being overlooked, light, extreme visibility etc. To Jakhoo Temple associated with the mythic era, the quiet whisper of nature, natural order, natural beauty augmented by man, overlooking, the sun (and heavens), blended visibility. All these sights are moved through chronologically by the casual visitor, with all being moved through twice apart from Jakhoo (once on the way up and once on the way down). Jakhoo then is the peak of the revelation of the Divine that Shimla offers – it is both literarly and figuratively the zenith of its landscape. Spatially these all involve am movement up, there is not much horizontal movement on this journey the movement is largely vertical and each space is encountered in the context of the previous, with the insight imparted by the previous. There is also a movement to do with association of time here from the present to the colonial to the mythical and each space not only progressively deepens our reach through time but also is a living space that carries through the others without rupture. That is to say that Christ Church not only draws from the colonial past but is very much alive and contributes to post colonial Shimla. Jakhoo not only reminds us of the mythical past, but draws us through the colonial period to the modern age, where it also is alive today as an important point of pilgrimage. Here then connected by space and time are three sites of religious worship that are encountered by the visitor and which encapsulate the multi–layered nature of modern Shimla.
Of course I am talking here about the average day/or weekend tripper, how these spaces are encountered by more frequent visitors and local residents is a different story altogether and I think the subject of another day.

Jakhoo Temple (1.3)

Although Christ Church is the icon of Shimla it is dwarfed by the mountains all around, the geography of Shimla mall soars up behind Christchurch like a wall which leads to Jakhoo peak, home of Hanuman. Now, Jakhoo temple can’t really be seen from the Mall, or the lift, unlike Christ Church, because it is hidden behind a covering of sacred deodars. To get there involves abandoning modern transport even more, no car, no lift, instead most people walk up the path that winds behind Christ church and through the forest. Jakhoo then does not stand (as Christ Church does) proudly for all to see as a man made construction that reminds us of Divine creation, rather it sits engulfed in the Divinity of the natural world. As such it mirrors the mountains that are visible surrounding Shimla, many of them topped with temples whose beauty and serenity far surpasses that of Jakhoo in my opinion, but nevertheless operate in a similar way. Nearby there is Tara Devi, from which the peace of the mountains begins to descend on you, as the wind toys with your hair. Behind the old temple is a newer Shiva temple, which is beautifully carved from the scared deodar trees that can be seen all around. Even further away, yet more /or less visible from Shimla mall on a clear day lies Hatu peak, a place where it is possible to stand and see nothing but trees stretching out bellow. And here two a new temple is being skilfully crafted by Himachali artists from sacred deodar wood. These temples then point to the divinity of nature in a far more direct way than Christ Church and like Christ church they point to the past as well as existing in the present.
My point is perhaps made stronger if I return my wandering gaze to Jakhoo hill once more. Here we have a place that, unlike the elevator area and temple, clearly engages with Shimla’s colonial history. As with Christ Church there are wonderful tales of Characters from the Colonial period who worshiped there. I am thinking particularly of that fellow who one often hears about (a Brit I think) who converted to Hinduism and lived on the mountain, in the forest of Jakhoo, it is said taht he was able to talk to the monkeys... it is frutstrating not remembering all the details and many of my notes are lost in transit (one box of books shipped from Shimla arrived here several weeks ago, yet the other sent at the same time is still to arrive, we know it made it to Delhi and then the expensive tracking system we paid for seems to fall apart, although no one is saying this, i worry that it has be lost or stolen along the way) . Anyway if anyone knows the details of this fellow and can provide them I would be grateful. The point is that Jakhoo temple intersects with that period, but it also points back beyond it. It points back to the founding of Shimla and even beyond to the mythical age when it is said That Hanuman stopped there on his way back from collecting the Sanjeevani booti. Jaknhoo hill moves us closer to nature again and connects the postcolonial period back through the colonial period to the pre-colonial period.

Up The Lift to Christ Church (1.2)

The Shimla lift takes you from the cart road to the mall and seemingly transports you to an otherworld (interestingly skipping the lower bazaar, which is another story again), where the more organic vernacular architecture gives way to the imposing Colonial structures. The largely car free mall road, although bustling with life, is quieter and more restful than bellow, at times it is possible to glimpse over the buildings and see the tree lined hills soaring above and the delightful valleys bellow. Dogs impose peace on the space by lazing restfully in the middle of the paths that the humans bustle along and the wide streets are swept clean of litter, by both human workers and the ever watchful non–humans. A sense of history now comes to the fore, whereas the cart road seems like any small new town in modern India here people notice things about the buildings and tell stories of the events that they heard occurred here in the past. From more or less anywhere on the Mall you can see rising above you Christ Church Cathedral, most people make their way to the ridge, buy some popcorn or ice cream, look at the hills, and then take a picture outside Christ Church. It is almost emblematic of the entire mall space and it is what Shimla is to many tourists. Christ Church itself is designed in an orderly fashion and upon stepping inside even the noise of the mall drops away, hundreds of visitors (of all faiths) have recorded in the visitor’s book that the thing that strikes them most about Christ Church is a sense of peace. Furthermore the church is designed to draw attention to certain aspects of nature: its towering Gothic structure draws the eyes up towards the heavens (in a mimicry of the surrounding mountains) and in contrast to the temple below, inside it is filled with light that spills in and refracts through the cleverly designed windows in ever changing ways. Thus, the church is a man made structure that draws attention to both the past and nature and the presence of divinity within these. It reminds us of order, of peace and calm, it stands for something that connects the past and the present in a seemingly timeless way and encourages you to abandon bustle and give in to peace. The Church is no museum piece but is still very much alive enriched by a diverse group of worshipers who blend the traditions of the past with postcolonial innovations in worship – now and then are tied together.