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(Past Forward is a new monthly history column by Kavitha Rao on how the past shapes the present and the future.)
As a recent immigrant to the UK, I often find myself trapped between belligerent far-right rhetoric and a brash new brand of Hinduism. For the past five years, I have volunteered as a tour guide at the magnificent Old Royal Naval College (ORNC) in Greenwich, London. The stately white buildings—crowned with domes and surrounded by Greek columns—glow against the banks of the Thames.
The ORNC was built in 1696 by Sir Christopher Wren, on the site of Henry the VIII’s former palace. It was from here that Henry’s doomed wife Anne Boleyn was taken for her last voyage to the Tower in 1536, shortly to be beheaded for adultery. So photogenic is the site that it has been used as a set for many films and TV shows, and even as a replacement for Buckingham Palace. Visitors often recognise it from The Crown, The Diplomat, Pirates of the Caribbean, and several other popular shows.
Later, the ORNC was turned into a retirement home for sailors, even including some Indians. The site became a monument for the British Navy, with a glorious baroque “Painted Hall” plastered with scenes of British maritime exploration. Or, as we call it, colonisation.
All in all, this is not a river that screams Vedic devotion. But that’s exactly what happened on 13 September, when the first-ever Ganga Aarti by the Thames—a contradiction if ever there was one—took place at the ORNC.
Thousands of devotees gathered to light lamps, chant Vedic hymns, beat drums and pray, at a noisy event organised by the Chinmaya Mission. Chinmaya said the event was intended to “celebrate two ancient rivers, each having shaped generations.” Luckily, local municipal regulations ensured no offerings or waste from the ritual was thrown in the Thames, lest it turn into the Ganga.
Why did the ORNC allow the aarti in the first place? Like many heritage sites, the ONRC is short of money, and the Chinmaya Mission has plenty of money. The ORNC already hires out the site for weddings and film shoots, so an aarti must have seemed acceptable.
Lately, London city authorities have also been keen to be inclusive. Every year, Diwali celebrations are held in Trafalgar Square, right beneath the disapproving gaze of Admiral Nelson’s column, and championed by Mayor Sadiq Khan.
Must Indians constantly display their culture though, even when it clashes with the surroundings? As everywhere in the world, there is a tide of anti-immigration sentiment in the UK, and Indians are particular targets, given there are so many of us.
The recent visit by BAPS monks to the Eiffel Tower—where women were asked to leave the space—has already given right-wing commentators fodder for hate speech against all Indians. The Eiffel Tower has now clarified that BAPS did not make a formal request to remove women—only an informal request which became garbled—but the damage has been done.
In Leicester, Hindus are apparently immersing Ganesh idols in rivers. In Lewisham, London, Tamil devotees roll along the street for the chariot festival. Many of these louder groups also have close ties with the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP). The annual Diwali celebrations in Trafalgar Square have been criticised for having links with the Vishwa Hindu Parishad (VHP).
These excessive displays have predictably prompted backlash from the right wing. In Sugarland, Texas, a massive 90-foot-statue of Hanuman became the centre of a controversy, after a MAGA YouTuber called for its removal. Recently, a white supremacist teen was narrowly stopped from carrying out a mass shooting at a Hindu temple in Illinois. Meanwhile, so hostile is the UK that Indian sailors on a naval exercise were confused with migrants.
Some see the brazen display of our culture as a way to reclaim space within the Empire. But there are also other ways to change a colonial narrative. In my role as a heritage guide, for instance, I am allowed—even encouraged—to talk about the Royal Navy’s role in slavery. Indeed, visitors are often keen to know more than they read in textbooks.
Indians are now the most prosperous ethnic minority in the UK, as they are in the US, and with prosperity comes a deep desire to be seen, heard, and acknowledged. Supporters of the Ganga Aarti argue that the flamboyant Notting Hill Carnival—which showcases British Caribbean culture—also had its own critics in the past, and is now part of the city’s tradition.
But there is a fine line between being seen and making a nuisance of yourself. There are other quieter, smarter ways to show off culture, rather than taking over public spaces, simply because we can. The Sikh community, for instance, have earned much goodwill with their in the UK with their serving of free meals at gurdwaras.
It’s quite likely that this first Ganga aarti on the Thames may not be the last, and like Diwali at Trafalgar Square, may become part of the city’s wallpaper. But these brash, loud displays of the religion make it harder for brown people to integrate, and paint a target on our backs. Indians are not popular in the West anymore. Brandishing our religion makes us even less popular.
(Kavitha Rao is a London-based journalist, author and historian. She is the author of “Lady Doctors: The Untold Stories of India’s First Women in Medicine” and “Spies, Lies and Allies: The Extraordinary Lives of Chatto and Roy.” She is on X at @kavitharao and on Instagram at kavitha.m.rao. Her website is at www.kavitharao.net. This is an opinion piece and the views expressed are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)
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