Today is an important day, marking a thousand years since Mahmud of Ghazni attacked and destroyed the Somnath Temple. To commemorate this moment in history, we are carrying this article for the benefit of the Hindu community across India, highlighting the significance of Somnath Swabhiman Parv, in which the Prime Minister of India is participating. In contrast, India’s first Prime Minister, Jawaharlal Nehru, had sought to restrain then-President Dr. Rajendra Prasad from attending the temple’s inauguration ceremony—an intervention that was ultimately disregarded. — Editor
Raja Rao Pochiraju
India is among the world’s oldest living civilizations—not because it has survived uninterrupted, but because it has endured disruption without erasure. Across centuries of invasions, ideological ruptures, colonial subjugation, and political upheavals, India’s civilizational core has demonstrated a rare resilience: the ability to regenerate meaning after destruction. Few symbols capture this truth more powerfully than the Somnath Temple. Rooted in this legacy, the Somnath Swabhiman Parv is not merely a religious observance, but a civilizational assertion—of memory, dignity, and cultural self-confidence.
Unlike conventional religious festivals anchored in ritual calendars, Somnath Swabhiman Parv is a commemorative moment of reflection. It is not about worship alone; it is about remembrance. Anchored at Somnath—revered as the first among the twelve Jyotirlingas of Lord Shiva—the Parv draws its strength from history as much as from faith. It reminds Indians not only of what was lost or destroyed, but of what refused to disappear.
The concept of swabhiman goes beyond pride. In Indian philosophical thought, it signifies dignity grounded in self-awareness—a quiet confidence born of knowing one’s civilizational roots. By linking this idea to Somnath, the Parv transforms a temple into a narrative of continuity. Somnath’s repeated destruction and reconstruction across centuries was not merely an architectural cycle; it was a civilizational statement. Each rebuilding represented an act of cultural refusal—the refusal to let memory be erased.
Importantly, Somnath Swabhiman Parv does not dwell on grievance. Its emphasis is not on who attacked Somnath, but on how Somnath survived. This narrative shift is significant. Civilizations trapped in historical victimhood often remain psychologically colonized by the past. By foregrounding endurance over humiliation, the Parv offers a mature civilizational lens—one that remembers without resentment and asserts dignity without aggression.
The Parv typically blends cultural performances, scholarly dialogues, heritage narratives, and artistic expressions rooted in Indian traditions. These are not ornamental add-ons. They function as instruments of transmission, ensuring that civilizational memory reaches younger generations in an age where history is increasingly reduced to ideological fragments. By restoring context, the Parv frames Indian history as a long, unbroken continuum rather than a sequence of disconnected political regimes.
While Somnath occupies a central place, its message extends beyond one shrine. The twelve Jyotirlingas collectively represent India’s spiritual geography—stretching from the snow-clad Himalayas to coastal shores, dense forests, and ancient urban centers. The very spread of the Jyotirlingas reinforces a civilizational truth: Indian spirituality is not centralized, but integrated with geography, culture, and local memory.
The word Jyotirlinga—derived from jyoti (light) and linga—refers to Shiva’s manifestation as an endless pillar of light, symbolizing the infinite nature of consciousness. Each Jyotirlinga represents a distinct spiritual energy, yet together they form a unified sacred circuit. Pilgrimage to these sites has historically been both a spiritual and cultural journey, exposing devotees to India’s diversity while binding them into a shared civilizational ethos.
In the present context, the relevance of the Jyotirlingas extends beyond faith. They serve as cultural anchors in a globalized world where material connectivity often weakens civilizational roots. The sacred circuit encourages movement without dislocation—engagement with the world without cultural amnesia. This balance is vital for a civilization seeking modernity without erasure.
The reconstruction of Somnath soon after Independence marked a psychological turning point for a newly free nation reclaiming its cultural narrative. Somnath Swabhiman Parv builds on that legacy, reminding citizens that political freedom is incomplete without cultural self-respect. National resurgence, it suggests, is not only economic or strategic—it is civilizational.
Often misread through a political lens, the Parv is not a partisan exercise. Political formations are transient; civilizations are not. Somnath Swabhiman Parv consciously situates itself within a time scale far longer than electoral cycles, rooted in shared memory and inherited values.
Ultimately, the Parv transforms Somnath from a historical monument into a living metaphor. It affirms that civilizations are not defined by uninterrupted power, but by their ability to rebuild meaning after disruption.
As a matter of fact, all twelve Jyotirlingas collectively signify the sources of divine energy of Lord Shiva. Yet, in remembering Somnath and the Jyotirlingas, the Parv poses a larger question: what does it truly mean to endure?
The answer lies not in stone alone, but in the collective will to remember, regenerate, and move forward—without forgetting who we are. (The author is a former IITian, Madras)
