Within a month of the attack on the Gogamedi shrine by a right-wing YouTuber and her associates, another contentious issue has come to the fore—one that appears to have been deliberately kept simmering and shaped over decades as part of a broader project of social engineering.
Just two days ago, the High Court quashed a petition seeking permission to re-conduct the Neja Mela in Sambhal, held in memory of Ghazi Mian, directing the petitioner instead to approach a lower court.[1] Notably, the very need to seek such permission did not arise from any explicit judicial ban, but rather from a discretionary determination by state authorities deeming the event “impermissible.”
Uttar Pradesh has long been home to such heterodox sects who made their presence felt across the hinterland, away from the metropolis dominated by traditional religious authority. Similar to Sufis of Maghreb their proponents often came from both communities —Rajputs in Hindus, Afghans, Syeds and Arabs among Muslims— who were primarily military adventurers as described by Christopher Bayly in his magnum opus Rulers, Townsmen and Bazaars. Engaging in agricultural administration and military occupations simultaneously these members of the landed class found themselves dwelling on socio-spiritual questions while living among the common peasantry compared to established, orthodox religious life.
The Syncretic Cult of Ghazi Miyan
Originally venerated by pastoral communities across the Indo-Gangetic plain, the cult of Ghazi Miyan is tied to the lore of a horse-riding warlord—comparable in some respects to the Rajput Panch-Pir traditions of Rajasthan—believed to have arrived from the west and to have long-standing associations with cattle-rearing groups, particularly Ahīrs. Local tradition holds that when he laid claim to the area around Suraj Kund in Bahraich as his base, he encountered resistance from a regional chieftain.
According to legend, in the ensuing conflict he initially refrained from attacking cattle, and was eventually ‘martyred’ by a local Rajput chief identified as Suhel Dev. As Shahid Amin argues in Conquest and Community: The Afterlife of Saint Ghazi Miyan, the story of Ghazi Miyan represents a layered narrative shaped through repeated retellings—rooted in the idiom of the warrior-saint tradition and embedded within a local sacred geography marked by symbols such as the Mahua tree and betel leaf, both predominantly associated with Hindu cultural practices. In this sense, the myth reflects a shared, non-sectarian history of conflict, accommodation, and social realities rather than a rigidly communal past.
Besides the objections of Ulema, earlier one such attempt is credited to Sikanadar Lodi (Uttar Taimur Kaleen Bharat, S.A.A. Rizvi) who banned the procession of spears, citing orthodoxy. However, opposed to attempts post-1870s, the strategy changed to ‘nationalist’ social engineering post 1920s, which saw the valorisation of Suheldev. Evidently, contrary to claims of extremism, the tradition of Neja Mela (where Muslims replace the flag atop the pole of shape of the Neja i.e. spear) in Sambhal is no different than Zohra Bibi-Ghazi Miyan ka Mela, celebrated in Bahraich in the memory of their aborted marriage before which he was ‘martyred’.
Shivnarayanis
In contrast to the more visible syncretic cults—many of which have been subjected to reinterpretation within Hindutva frameworks due to their prominence in public discourse—there exist other syncretic traditions in Uttar Pradesh that have largely evaded such interventions. The Shivnarayani, which is one such tradition, is a sect from eastern Uttar Pradesh with a history spanning nearly three centuries. Founded by Shivnarayan Singh—born in 1686 into a Narauni (Pratihara) Rajput family in Ballia—the tradition articulated what he called Sant Mat (the “creed of the Saints”), with individual adherents known as Sants. As his 10th direct descendant and head of the Panth, Jagatguru Amarjeet Singh explains, Santpati signifies that anyone who truly lives the path of ultimate truth can be considered a Sant. Rejecting the corruptibility of fixed hierarchies and institutional authority, Shivnarayan emphasized a deliberately non-ritualistic framework—eschewing temples and idols in favour of temporary chauris, often structured in seven steps symbolizing both the seven chakras and the seven heavens.
The sect’s founding narrative is tied to the Mughal emperor Muhammad Shah Rangila, who is said to have summoned Bagh Rai, Shivnarayan’s father, to Delhi over unpaid dues during a famine. Shivnarayan accompanied him to the imperial court around 1732. According to tradition, while imprisoned, news of his spiritual powers reached the emperor, who tested him by killing a cow and challenging him to restore it to life. The episode, as narrated within the sect, culminates not merely in a miracle but in a moral transformation: Shivnarayan compels the emperor to confront the futility of senseless violence, leading to a change of heart and his initiation into the fold. The enduring legacy of this encounter is reflected in the continued presence of Muslims as chharidars (ceremonial guards) for the head of the panth and its monastic institutions—an institutionalized symbol of the sect’s syncretic ethos.
Drawing upon his own feudal background—where the Naraunis had historically controlled clusters of villages under the ṭappas of Sukhpura, Bansdih, and Kharauni—Shivnarayan was uniquely positioned to challenge Brahminical orthodoxy. He is credited with opening the doors of organized religious practice, albeit stripped of conventional ritualism, and embedding within it a strong message of social equality. This appeal resonated particularly among marginalized communities, including Dalits, across eastern Uttar Pradesh, and later spread to regions such as Bihar, Nepal, Uttarakhand, Malwa, and Punjab.
Although the number of adherents and initiated Sants has declined over time, the sect’s message continues to find expression in its distinctive funerary practices: when a Sant departs for Nij Dham, the body is interred rather than cremated, accompanied by Bhojpuri verses from Sant Vilas. Such practices underscore a worldview that resists rigid religious binaries. As thinkers like Gail Omvedt have noted, the imposition of doctrinal divisions since early modernity has largely emanated from centres of power, while among marginalized communities, traditions emphasizing harmony over conflict, cooperation over coercion, and faith as a means of transcendence have remained more deeply rooted. This ethos finds parallels in imagined sacred spaces such as Anandpur associated with Guru Nanak, Begampura envisioned by Kabir, and Sant Lok articulated within the Shivnarayani tradition.
Arya Samaj’s war on syncretic beliefs
Influenced by a Protestant-inflected model of spiritual morality—marked by defined theology, rigid religious boundaries, hierarchical authority, and codified norms—alongside the transformative effects of print capitalism, 19th-century revivalist movements began to cast a suspicious eye on syncretic traditions. Reformist currents, particularly those associated with the Arya Samaj, as well as strands of both Hindu and Muslim orthodoxy, increasingly dismissed such blended practices with derision, often labelling them disparagingly as khichri. Emerging from metropolitan centres and gaining traction among the educated urban middle classes, these reformist voices promoted a Sanskritic, text-centred epistemology—albeit not without contesting traditional authorities—and advanced a more congregational, collectivist religious identity. This marked a departure from the diffuse, practice-based, and often individualized nature of older Hindu traditions, especially those shaped by karmic doctrine.
By the early 20th century, many of some reformist actors—especially those linked to the Arya Samaj—had entered the arena of electoral politics, positioning themselves as agents of reason and enlightenment within formations like the Indian National Congress, while simultaneously fuelling a parallel reformist zeal within right-leaning organisations. This ideological convergence across the political spectrum became particularly visible in events such as the 1950 fair commemorating Suheldev, organised by the Arya Samaj, and inaugurated by Congress leaders—despite the backdrop of communal unrest and the imposition of Section 144.
Khwaja of the Thakurs
Folk traditions of indebtedness often stem from simple ancestral memories. As noted by Sharique Ahmad Khan, the Bais Rajputs of Azamgarh trace one such episode to Khwaja Minhaj, a Mughal officer, who rescued a wounded man—Mainpar Dev—from a well after he had been left for dead. Dev later rose in Minhaj’s service, and upon the latter’s death, inherited his estate and built his tomb, giving rise to the name Minhajpur (Mehnajpur).
In a lasting mark of gratitude, Bais Rajputs adopted the Muslim style of tying the mirzai to the right, protected local Muslim communities, and continue to contribute to the annual urs at the shrine.
Conclusion
While presenting itself as reformist, Hindutva remains tethered to a Brahminical cosmopolis. Even as it challenges ritual hierarchies and orthodox authority, it consistently targets syncretic traditions that unsettle its rigid binaries.
Across the Indo-Gangetic plain, however, long-standing, symbiotic belief systems—rooted in marginalised communities and distant from metropolitan influence—have persisted outside the frameworks of both organized religion and modern ideological constructs. Often overlooked or suppressed, these traditions continue to embody and transmit a lived ethos of interfaith and intercultural harmony.
(The author is a post graduate scholar, a MA in History, specialising in medieval and pre-modern History from University of Delhi. His interests include heritage research, social and environmental histories)
[1] https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/meerut/sambhal-cops-deny-permission-for-historic-neja-mela-commemorating-plunderer-ghaznavis-commander/articleshow/119125961.cms; Note the contradictory even provocative headline in Times of India, on the one hand calling the Neja Mela “historic” and on the other hand almost legitimising the terms used by hardline objectors, “..commemorating plunderer Ghaznavis”!!
Related:
Rajasthan: Gogamedi, a Rajput-Muslim shrine and the politics of communal capture