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Until
recently, I had blithely assumed that Islam entered the Indian subcontinent
from its northwest fringes – from Afghanistan and elsewhere. In November 2017,
I made a trip to Kochi (Cochin) in Kerala during which we were taken to see a
mosque, the first to be built on the Indian subcontinent. Built long before the Mughal invasion, it is
in the Kodungallur district on the estuary of the River Periyar, about thirty
kilometres north of Ernakulam. I learned that this small area of southwestern
India is of historical significance for at least three religions.
Kodungallur,
watered by the River Periyar and backwaters, was a globally-important historical
economic area, variously known as: ‘Muziris’, ‘Cranganore’, and ‘Shingly’.
Until it silted up (many centuries ago), it was one of the ports where much
trade (export of: spices, textiles, pearls, gems, and other exotic valuables)
occurred between foreigners from the west and the local inhabitants. The
silting resulted from the opening-up of a passageway for the River Periyar from
the lagoon to the Arabian Sea at Cochin (now ‘Kochi’). This reduced the flow of
the river through the backwaters between Cochin and its original mouth near
Kodungallur, and caused its consequent clogging up.
Long
before the invasion of the Portuguese in the 15th century (AD),
these foreigners included the Greeks, the Romans (who were great consumers of
pepper from Kerala), the Arabs, the Jews, the Chinese, and many others. The
Romans spent so much on pepper that ancient authors recorded that it led to a
great depletion in the empire’s coffers. Once, I visited a museum in Kozhikode
(Calicut), which had many examples of foreign coins (Roman and otherwise) that
had been found in the area. Extensive finds of ancient foreign coins have also
been made in the Kodungallur area.
After
crossing the water in a vehicle ferry from Fort Cochin, we drove along the
long, slender Vypin Island through luxuriant, densely populated, countryside
towards Kodungallur. The roads in this crowded tropical Garden of Eden were
richly ‘decorated’ with flags and posters bearing the hammer and sickle of
Communism, and placards showing portraits of Marx, Engels, Lenin, and,
sometimes, Stalin and/or Che Guevara. The Communists have been an important
and, most say, a constructive political influence in Kerala since the 1950s.
When we parked in Kodungallur, I spotted a banner with a fine portrait of
Stalin opposite the Cheraman Jumma Masjid. This mosque was established during
the life of, or very shortly after the death of, the Prophet Muhammad (c.
570-632 AD).
It
is said that one night the Hindu ruler of Kodungallur Cheraman Perumal (a
member of the Chera dynasty) had a dream in which the full moon was split in
two. No one could explain the meaning of this until he met some traders, who
had sailed across from Arabia. Their explanation led Cheraman to travel to
Mecca, where he met the Prophet Muhammad, and became converted to Islam. He
sent word back to Kerala that his people should embrace Islam and follow the
teachings of Malik bin Deenar (died 748 AD), whom he dispatched to India.
Cheraman, who remained for some years in Arabia, died on his way back to India.
When
Malik arrived in Kodungallur, he was permitted to build what is now called the
Cheraman Mosque. This was the first ever mosque to be constructed on the Indian
subcontinent. Nothing remains of the original building. It was reconstructed in
the 11th century, then again in the 14th. In 1504, the
mosque was destroyed by the Portuguese when Lopo Soarez de Algabria (c.
1460-1520) attacked Kodungallur (see: “Muslim Architecture of South India”, by
M Shokoohy, publ. 2003). Later, it was rebuilt, and in 1974 it was enlarged and
surrounded by a modern structure. What the visitor sees from outside is largely
unexceptional apart from the tiled roof of the oldest part of the mosque which
can be seen above the modern extensions.
Male
visitors may enter after washing their feet in a special area close to the
mosque. I was shown the inner sanctuary, which is all that remains of the
pre-1974 building. A remarkable feature is a large metal lampstand in which oil
lamps (‘diyas’) may be held. This lampstand would not look out of place in a
Hindu temple. The wooden ‘mimbar’ (pulpit) is elaborately constructed and
delicately decorated. Next to it is the ‘mihrab’, a niche in the wall facing in
the direction of the Kaaba in Mecca, with its semi-circular arch. This is a
part of the mosque built in the 16th century. There are two graves
draped with red and green silk cloths in a small room leading off from the
inner sanctuary. These are the graves of Habib bin Malik and his wife
Khumarriah. A door beyond the graves leads into a poky room from which women
are allowed to view the graves. Although Malik bin Deenar was the first ‘Ghazi’
(leader) of the mosque, he handed it over to his relative Habib after a few
years. Malik was buried elsewhere in Kerala (at Kasaragod).
The
museum and gardens of the mosque are open to all. The garden has an attractive
square tank (rather like a Hindu temple tank), where fishes swim. It is next to
a cemetery. I noticed that several trees growing nearby were home to a colony
of large bats, who hung from branches upside down and motionlessly.
The
museum attached to the mosque contains a lovely model of what the mosque must
have looked like before it was modernised. Like some historic mosques that I
have seen in Kozhikode, the earlier Cheraman mosque, was similar
architecturally to Hindu temples (and other buildings) in Kerala. Other
exhibits included photographs and a wooden funeral bier. I was thrilled to
stand where Islam made its first concrete foothold in India. This shrine is a
site that is more evocative than visually interesting. I was told that the
mosque has very few foreign visitors, who are neither Muslim nor Arab, and that
I was one of its rare ‘white’ tourists.
From
the Cheruman Mosque, it is a short drive to the Thiruvanchikulam Mahadeva Temple
(‘Mahadeva’ for short). This Hindu temple, probably first built in the 8th
century (AD), is dedicated to Shiva. The earliest recorded reference to it is
in some Tamil hymns, which were first recorded in writing in about the 10th
century. With its many steep, often gabled, tiled roofs, it is a typical
example of Keralan temple architecture. Some buildings within the temple’s
compound have several roofs, each one projecting from different levels of the
building, producing a pagoda-like effect that is characteristic of many temples
and other buildings in Kerala.
The
white outer walls of the central building, the inner sanctum, are covered, from
ground to roof-level, with dark timber planks arranged to form a huge lattice
of rectangles, rather like a huge set of pigeon-holes. At the base of each
rectangle, there is a small horizontal metal dish that can be used to hold oil
and a taper. When lit, each of these little dishes become small diyas (lamps).
To
the rear (east) of the central sanctuary, there is a shelter supported by eight
thick circular columns with Doric capitals. Immediately east of this, but
within the walls of the compound, there is a tall pagoda-like building whose
stone walls are covered with elaborately carved pilasters. This building is
above the compound’s eastern doorway.
Under
the shelter, we saw a set of weighing scales. These are used to weigh offerings
to the temple. For example, a donor would sit on one of the weighing pans,
whilst his gift (be it rice or gold) is loaded on the other pan until it weighs
the same as its donor. The scales were close to a tall metal lamp stand used
for oil lamps. A simple wooden ladder rested against it. This is used to place,
and light, diyas out of reach at the top of the tall stand. The base of the
stand was sculpted in the form of a tortoise. Set into the floor surrounding
the lampstand there were several prostrate women carved in stone, their clasped
hands pointing towards the stand. Between them and the inner temple building,
there was a ring of seated metal sculpted deities, each with four arms.
Many
of the roof gables were decorated with painted sculptures of religious figures.
Some of these supported the edge of the tiled roofs of the gables like
caryatids. Apart from the buildings already described, the compound contained
several smaller buildings housing shrines. Unfortunately, during our visit
there was nobody about to unlock any of the buildings including the main
temple.
Less
than six kilometres southwest of the Temple lies the St Thomas Shrine (in the
district of Azhikode) also known as the ‘Marthoma Church’. It stands close to
the north bank of the River Periyar about two kilometres from its entry into
the sea. It is at, or near, this spot where the apostle St Thomas is supposed
to have landed in India in 52 AD, some five to six centuries before Islam
reached the same district. I have injected an element of uncertainty because
some authorities have proposed that Thomas first set foot in India in various
places far away from Kerala. However, many agree that he landed first somewhere
near to modern day Kodungallur, and this has been commemorated by the shrine,
which was built in its present incarnation in the early 1950s. It replaces an
earlier church in old Cranganore, which was destroyed during a battle between
the (Roman Catholic!) Portuguese and the Muslims in 1536.
The
shrine that faces the lovely tree-lined shores of the River Periyar is a
flamboyant construction painted in white. The domed church, which lacks any
architectural merit and contains a relic of St Thomas, lies between two
sweeping curved colonnades topped with statues. The relic was brought to Kerala
from Italy in 1953. The whole structure,
church and colonnades, looks like an elaborate wedding cake or the set for a
Bollywood dance routine.
Between
the church and the water, there is a tall shiny metal column surmounted by a
golden cross with two cross-bars. This high structure resembles those often
found in or outside Hindu temples (used for holding diyas). We noticed that
these columns, inspired by those associated with Hindu temples, are becoming
quite common outside churches in Kerala. Both in mosques and churches that I
have visited in India, features ‘borrowed’ from Hinduism can be found within
them. Despite the introduction of ‘newer’ religions such as Christianity and
Islam, it seems that Indian worshippers do not entirely abandon their ‘Hindu
heritage’.
There
is a colourful building, the Marthoma Smruthi Tharangam, which is next to the
church and behind one of the colonnades. Its imaginative architectural style
defies categorization. You might describe it as ‘A Keralan Disneyland meets the
Vatican’. The building houses a theatre where ‘digital shows’ describing the
life of St Thomas and the story of his relic may be watched.
St
Thomas is believed to have been martyred in Chennai. There is a cave, which I
have visited, at the top of St Thomas Mount in Chennai, where the saint was
speared. It contains a slab of rock in which there are two hand-shaped
impressions, which are believed to have been made Thomas’s hands. This cave,
like the shrine at Kodungallur, attracts many pilgrims.
When
St Thomas landed in Kerala, there were already Jews living there. Shortly after
his arrival, following the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD, many more arrived
as refugees. Jewish people have been associated with Kerala for a long time.
For how long, the historians disagree. Most agree that Jews on King Solomon’s
trading vessels visited the Keralan ports about 900 years before Christ’s
birth. These Jewish mariners are believed to have brought exotic items such as
peacocks, monkeys, and ivory from India to Solomon’s palace in the Holy Land.
It is unlikely that any of Solomon’s people settled in Kerala.
From
some centuries before and after the birth of Christ, Cranganore was ruled by
the Chera dynasty. The Cheras permitted the settlement of Jewish people in
Cranganore. Their descendants lived in India until after independence (in 1947)
and the foundation of Israel, where many of India’s Jews migrated (for economic
reasons).
The
Cheras allotted the Jews a small piece of land, named Anjuvannam, in the
Cranganore district, which became a ‘Jewish kingdom’. Its inhabitants
collaborated in many fruitful ways with their Chera, and then later, Chola
hosts.
Various
factors including the silting up of the Periyar as well as the decline of the
Chera dynasty and their succession by the rival Cholas, caused many of the
local Jewish people to move to Cochin. However, some Jews remained in what
remained of Cranganore after it became less important than Cochin. The Jewish
‘kingdom’ of Anjuvannam continued after the fall of the Chera dynasty, which
fell in the 12th century. By the time that the Portuguese began
establishing themselves in Kerala, the Jewish community in Cochin was much more
significant economically than that in Cranganore.
Today,
several synagogues still stand in the Kodungallur, the old Cranganore, area.
There was a total of twelve in Kerala during the heyday of Jewish presence in
the state. We visited two synagogues near Kodungallur. Both have been looked
after well, but are no longer used for worship.
The two that we saw are far less-visited than the well-known and
undoubtedly beautiful Pardesi Synagogue in bustling Mattancherry, in whose Jew
Town the Jewish traders, of which only one remains, have been replaced by
mainly Kashmiri Muslim traders, who are, incidentally, excellent salesmen.
The
Paravur synagogue was first established in the 12th century AD, and
then renovated by David Yakov Castlier in the late 16th, or early 17th
century. Its architecture is typically Keralan. The first floor of the front
entrance building has a deep veranda beneath a tiled roof supported by four
pairs of columns. A covered passageway lined by stout columns leads from the
entrance to the synagogue itself. The roof of the corridor is lined with wood.
The
synagogue’s interior is simple. The original fittings have been moved to
Israel, and have been replaced by replicas. If you were unaware of this, you would
believe that you were seeing the originals. The carved wooden ark, or cupboard,
in which the Torah scrolls were kept, has been reproduced, but is empty. The
centrally located circular ‘bima’ or pulpit is wooden, constructed with turned
wood balustrades. As with other synagogues in Kerala, there is an upper bima,
which is formed by a semi-circular platform projecting from the first-floor
gallery where women worshippers were required to be. The upper bima, a
speciality of Keralan synagogues, was used only on special occasions, whereas
the lower one was for routine use.
Women
worshippers entered their first-floor gallery by way of the covered corridor
running above that which connects the entry building to the ground floor of the
synagogue. This upper corridor is lined with wooden slats which curve outwards
from the floor towards the arched ceiling. In cross-section, this corridor
resembles the hull of a boat. The slats sheltered women from the sun, and,
also, made them difficult to see from outside.
Descriptive
notices and photographs line the walls of the synagogue’s buildings. These
provide information about Jewish life as it was in Kerala. From Paravur, it is
a short drive (about two kilometres) to the smaller Chendamangalam Synagogue,
which is close to the left bank of the Periyar. This synagogue was first built
in 1420 AD, rebuilt after a fire in 1614, and renovated several times since. In
the grounds in front of the main entrance, there is a small stone memorial to
Sara, daughter of Israel, who died in 1269. This might have been brought by the
Jews who migrated to Chendamangalam in the 13th century.
The
entrance hall of the synagogue leads into the main prayer space through a door
surrounded by colourful paintwork. Glass lamps of various designs hang from the
colourful wooden ceiling decorated with carved, painted lotus flowers. The
centrally located circular wooden bima is similar in design to that at Paravur.
As in Paravur, there is an upper bima, which forms part of the gallery reserved
for women. The female congregants stood or sat behind wooden lattice-work
screen, the ‘meshisah’, hidden from the men during services. A staircase leads
from the main entrance to the women’s area behind the screen. Another staircase
with carved wooden banisters allowed the clerics to climb up from the main
prayer area to the upper bima without having to see the women.
The
ark, which was used to contain the Torah scrolls, is made of colourfully
painted teak wood. There are three
intricately carved pillars decorated with floral motifs on either side of the
cupboard doors. The doors are also covered with painted plant motifs in
bas-relief. The luxuriant decorative vegetation continues as decoration on the
parts of the ark above the doors. Red, green, and gold are the colours which
figure most on this almost baroque piece of furniture.
In
the small grounds within the synagogue’s perimeter walls, there are a few
gravestones with inscriptions in Hebrew.
I noticed a carved circular stone,
whose perimeter was carved with a ring of leaf-shaped depressions. These were
probably filled with oil and tapers, and then lit to be used as diyas. Thus, we
find the diya holders characteristically used in Hindu temples not only in
temples but also in mosques, churches, and synagogues. The reason for this is
likely to have been because this was the normal form of lighting in India of
old.
Most
of Kerala’s Jewish folk have left for foreign parts. Neighbouring the synagogue
in Chendamangalam, there is a newly built house bearing a Jewish name plate.
The guardian of the synagogue told us that this was the home of a Keralan Jew
who had left for Israel, but had returned to Kerala to live out his retirement.
We
returned via the Vypin ferry station to Fort Cochin, where we were staying. On
our way we drove along roads decked with Communist (and, also, BJP) banners.
Our route took us past peaceful, rustic backwaters with occasional Chinese
fishing nets. These backwaters are far more pleasant than those near to
Alleppey, which are unpleasantly congested with boats and house-boats used by
tourists.
Our
brief visit to the Kodungallur district, a centre of global trade many
centuries ago, was fascinating. It is an area, where four religions co-exist
peacefully, and where two of them are supposed to have entered the Indian
subcontinent. While reading about the history of this small corner of Kerala,
one thing impressed me. That is, the almost complete lack of certainty about
its early history. Like St Thomas, its story is full of doubts. To quote the
small guidebook I bought at the Cheraman mosque:
“Total absence of reliable
historical records make early history of Kerala a bundle of legends.”
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