Michel Boivin

NEGOTIATING A VERNACULAR HERITAGE BEYOND BORDERS: VISUAL REPRESENTATIONS OF JHULELAL BETWEEN PAKISTAN AND INDIA 1

Introduction

Pakistan is a country usually depicted as a hub of terrorism and Islamist radicalism but, except in the circle of the specialists, it is less widely known that there are a number of shrines-usually named durbars-that are shared by Muslims, Hindus, and Sikhs. Sharing of religious culture occurs in these spaces through the expressed devotion to sacred figures. The present chapter intends to scrutinize a Sindh-originated sacred figure named Jhulelal through visual representations from Pakistan and India. In this discussion, the priority is to examine how devotional religion still builds bridges between two countries that are generally depicted as the 'best enemies' .

In his book devoted to the Lives of Indian Images, Richard H Davis argues that the identities of the icons are never fixed or permanent. They can shift, from one place to another; where such identities encounter new audiences, they 'may take new roles and new meanings in response to the changing world around them' Chapter 7 (1997, 261). Drawing on Davis's argument, this chapter addresses the issue of how visual representations of devotion are articulated with the construction of a specific identity known as Sindhiness or, better yet, Sindhiyyat, a dynamic based on the circulation of men and ideas beyond the borders of two nation states, Pakistan and India. The main argument here is that Jhulelal's visual representations have undergone a process, which highlights the changes his followers have been involved in, from the colonial period on to the present day. Although labelled a panth, a 'religious community', Jhulelal's followers were initially organized as scattered groups of devotees who were independent from each other. The situation remained similar after Partition although a kind of uniformization seemed to emerge regarding some symbolic elements, such as the iconography of Jhulelal.

This chapter examines the transformation of Jhulelal's tradition through analysis of his iconography. From a multiplicity of representations, Jhulelal's iconography went through a process of standardization reflecting the reconstruction of Jhulelal as the main deity associated with India's Sindhis, meeting their needs in a new environment. In a second step, this 'official' representation spread in Pakistan, among the Hindus and the Sikhs as well as the Muslims. Still following Davis's argument, this chapter will attempt to 'ground identities and significances of images in their shifting encounters and relationships with human audiences ' (ibid. 263), rather than to only scrutinize their dates and places of fabrication. Following this trajectory, my discussion goes on to use data that includes an array of representations borrowed from illustrations in books, miniatures, posters, and statues. As I am not an art historian, the chapter will not deal with any aesthetic issue; instead, it will explore visual representations through the issue of agency, for not only are such visual representations social agents created and used by actors for elaborating upon a discourse regarding what and who they are, but they also deal with the world in which they live.

The focus of this chapter, therefore, is largely concerned with the post-Partition forms of Sindhi identity: What do we learn from Jhulelal's visual representations? What does this knowledge tell us about the evolution of Sindhi culture and society, especially after the Partition? And how are these visual representations played out in two distinct countries, Pakistan and India? Thus, the present discussion also deals, although indirectly, with the issue of geopolitical borders and nation states, through analysing the circulation of iconography.

The Archaeology of Jhulelal's Iconography

Jhulelal was born in 1007 Vikram Samwat (950 CE) in Nasarpur, Sindh. 2 According to tradition, he was born to save the Hindus threatened by Markh, the Muslim king of Thatta, who wanted to forcefully convert them to Islam. After a number of successful adventures, Jhulelal acquired both Hindu and Muslim followers. Later on, Jhulelal appeared on the island of Khwaja Khizr near Sukkur, in Sindh, to save a Muslim woman who was coveted by a Hindu king. He is said to have finally disappeared from the village of Jahejan, later renamed as Udero Lal, where he had asked his followers to build two sanctuaries in the same complex: one for his Hindu followers, a samadhi, and another one for his Muslim followers, a qabr.

The first portion of this chapter examines some of the oldest pictorial representations of Jhulelal, a topic which has not been addressed in scholarship yet. Until now, according to my research, the oldest accessible pictorial representations are those which were printed in booklets at the very end of the nineteenth century. 3 Nonetheless, in 1989, the French archaeologist Monique Kervran recorded two small temples devoted to Jhulelal in the hamlet of Udero Lal, about seven kilometres from the town of Ghorabari, south of Thatta, near the Indus River Delta. In fieldwork completed in April 2016, unfortunately, the author noticed that the temple containing the frieze has since been demolished. The other temple does not have any visible frieze, while the floral and geometric ornaments of the dome are still present. 4 According to Kervran, the structure would have been completed in the eighteenth century, and consequently, the friezes she was able to depict and photograph are the oldest known depiction of Jhulelal's worship in Sindh. As a matter of fact, no other image of Jhulelal has been found in a gap of at least a century, between these friezes and the images printed in the late nineteenth century.

The friezes are made of three elements. 5 Interestingly, there is one frieze in the north, one in the east, and another one in the south, and only the western frieze is not decorated. The three friezes represent three episodes of Jhulelal's life. The first (east) depicts a battle, the second (north) a procession, and the third (south), already badly damaged, a man sitting on a throne in a garden, and beside him a camel carrying a jar of water. The procession shows a man mounted on a bull, followed by two men carrying ceremonial objects that are impossible to decipher (see fig. 7.1). Behind them, a woman leads a man on a horse drawing a wagon with an image of Medusa on the side. Following the wagon is a large snake. A procession such as this is usually a proof that the figure has defeated his enemy, and thus it ostensibly displays his superiority. It could thus allude to the victory of Jhulelal over the Muslim king, Markh, although no battle had been fought: Jhulelal convinced the king to give up his plan, through the miracles he was able to perform. However, the friezes represented the life narrative of Jhulelal divided into three key episodes: the battle, the procession exhibiting his victory, and his installation as an all-powerful king-god figure.

While it is beyond the scope of this chapter to go into great depth, it is interesting to observe that the frieze seems to have been produced in the style of the school of painting which flourished during the Kalhora rule (1680-1783). According to Idris Siddiqi, this school was similar to a branch of the Rajasthani School which finally absorbed many vernacular traits, to a point that it formed a distinctive school of painting (1969, 172). I suggest to call this school, the Kalhora School of painting. The pictorial style of the paintings in the Ghorabari temple, as it is usually named, clearly resembles that of the Kalhora School of painting, as the same style was also found in the tombs studied by Zulfiqar Ali Kalhoro (2014). Noted similarities include the style of the drawing of the characters, as well as their attire, and also dominant use of colours, along with architectural elements. Furthermore, musicians appear to play a main role in local society, and other scenes depict stories belonging to the large repertoire of the folktales of Sindh. Interestingly, some friezes of the Jamali tribe especially depict the legends of Sindh, in which music and musicians always play an important role. The snake of the Ghorabari temple could be a trope of Sindh painting since it is the most used element in the tombs studied by Kalhoro. Sometimes such a depiction refers to the jogis, the snake charmers who were affiliated to the Nathpanth (2014, 117, 141). The snake is also represented in the Hindu temple of Johi, near Dadu, in relation to Krishna (ibid. 246).

However, turning back to the pictorial representation of Jhulelal, one sees that the scenes depicted in the Ghorabari temple, as per Pinney's classification, would belong to katha images rather than darshani images (2004, 92). The katha images would narrate a story-usually the life story of the sacred figure-while the darshani images would be used as a support for meditation. Nonetheless, although the state of these images is poor, the man sitting on a throne in the Ghorabari temple was certainly meant to be Jhulelal, since the temple was devoted to his cult but, as we shall see, it is difficult to draw connections between this representation and Jhulelal's later pictorial representations, which came to light only in the late nineteenth century.

Furthermore, in the eighteenth century the Kalhora School was not only flourishing in the field of painting, but also in architecture. It is more than probable that the structure of the temple devoted to Jhulelal was also inspired by the Kalhora mausoleums. Interestingly, the oldest structure related to Jhulelal, the durbar of Udero Lal near Hala, is said to have been built in the late seventeenth century, a period concomitant with the time when Kalhoras started to rule Sindh in 1680. Its main architectural feature is attributed to the Kalhora School of architecture with a dome or gumbad placed on a square structure. Later on, especially during the Hindu renaissance from the nineteenth century onwards, this feature was abandoned for more 'Hindu' identified embellishments, such as a tower or shikharah. Contrary to what is frequently claimed by local Sindhis, there is nothing that certifies a relation to Sufism in the architecture. That said, the issue of the relationship between structures of kings' or tribal chiefs' tombs with those of Sufi saints is far beyond the scope of the present chapter.

Unconventional Representations

The Udero Lal temple paintings in Ghorabari are unfortunately the sole old paintings displayed in a temple devoted to Jhulelal in Sindh. Furthermore, no in-depth research has been conducted to determine a precise date of these paintings, although the structure itself appears to have been produced in the eighteenth century. However, since no manuscript related to Jhulelal is known to me, I conclude that there are no figurative representations earlier than the ones included in the first books devoted to Jhulelal in the Sindhi language published only in the 1890s. One, however, can deduce that there was an oral tradition before this point. And while two books describe the life of Jhulelal, the earliest one with images was an anthology of devotional poetry. Daryā Shāh jun gad panja madāḥun, or Compilation of Poems Devoted to Darya Shah, was published in 1913 (see fig. 7.2). 6 The main aim of this section will be to examine how Jhulelal's printed iconography informs us about his tradition and groups of followers. It will primarily demonstrate that there was no harmonization of Jhulelal's representations before Partition. Any kind of authority on this topic was already fragmented before 1947, but Partition reinforced this trend. In the main durbar at Udero Lal, a Hindu gadisar, Mata Bina, who stays in Mumbai and visits the durbar twice a year, and a Muslim sajjadah nashin, Ghulam Abbas Shaykh, who stays in the nearby village, are the main authorities on Jhulelal. Other temples, in Pakistan as well as in India, have their own independent organization regarding the transmission of Jhulelal's tradition.

There are two representations of Jhulelal that can be categorized as unconventional: Jhulelal standing in the middle of the river with other characters, and Jhulelal as a horseman. However, using the word 'unconventional' implies first determining what is conventional. By conventional, I refer to a way of representing Jhulelal that has been successful among the majority of his followers, and continues to be: Jhulelal sitting on a throne as a king. While this is the most widespread representation of Jhulelal, it was not imposed by any kind of centralized authority.

In unconventional representations Jhulelal has no book and no crown, two artefacts which are usually seen in the conventional ones. An undated booklet written in Khudawadi, an ancient Sindhi script, pictures him in a somewhat naïve style (see fig. 7.2). In it, Jhulelal is represented with a staff that he seems to use as a cane; he looks very old. A halo surrounds his head and he is barefoot. He is listening to another character attentively. The other man is holding a musical instrument in his left hand; hence, I assume he must be a musician, as there is another representation of Jhulelal with a musician found in the temple of Jinda Pir in Sukkur, which was built in the 1890s. Here, the representation is carved on ivory inside of the sanctum.

According to my knowledge, there is no musician involved in Jhulelal's narrative. Interestingly, however, common representations often show Guru Nanak with Mardana, a Muslim musician. In the temple of Jinda Pir in Sukkur, for instance, there is a representation of Guru Nanak with Mardana carved in the wooden gate. The similarity of the representations, i.e. a sacred figure accompanied by a musician, could hardly be a coincidence. This might point to a possible impact of Sikhism on Jhulelal's iconography. The Sikh empire was a powerful state in the Indus region before the British conquest in 1849. At this point, we can surmise that its cultural patterns, including art, were spread beyond the empire proper. The Lohanas, who made up the bulk of Jhulelal's followers in Sindh, had come from the Punjab, beginning with the eighteenth century onwards. The Sikh community had furthermore undergone a process of standardization and centralization, which occurred parallel to a standardization of Guru Nanak's representations. Another factor which could have facilitated the spread of the Sikh iconographical paradigms to the followers of Jhulelal is that many so-called 'Hindu' Sindhis were themselves Nanakpanthis or Udasis (Boivin 2016, 231-2), these being the two branches of Sikhism which do not follow the precepts of the Khalsa.

The second unconventional representation is more refined. 7 In the book, Madāḥūn ain panjṛa Amar La'l jā, or Poems in Praise of Amar Lal, published in 1927, Jhulelal, who is also called Amar Lal or the 'Red Eternal', is standing on a fish in the middle of the Indus River (see fig. 7.3). He is wearing a turban, and holding a staff in his right hand as well as a scroll in his left hand. His head is surrounded by a halo. Once again, he is in conversation with another man, this time not a musician. Rather he is also holding a scroll and a staff, and appears to be walking towards Jhulelal (see fig. 7.3). This man could be Pugar, Jhulelal's cousin who was given the leadership of the Daryapanth. 8 The depicted scene appears to signify the transmission of tradition from Jhulelal to Pugar, symbolized here by the scroll. Probably, in accordance with the role given to scriptures in Sikh tradition (through the Granth Sahib), the fact that Jhulelal holds a text in his hand signifies, in my understanding, that he is transmitting a religious tradition of its own. Later on, as we shall see, the official image of Jhulelal would represent him with a codex rather than a book, as suggested in this figure by a few unbounded sheets of paper. Here again, it is tempting to see a Sikh reminiscence, since prior to the nineteenth century standardization of his image, Guru Nanak was represented with a book in his hands. However, while in the Sikh tradition the Granth Sahib is considered the sacred scripture and thus plays a leading role in the community, at times even assuming the status of a guru, the Daryapanth is not rooted in any similarly canonical scripture.

Before Partition, there was a large diversity of representations of Jhulelal in the subcontinent. Besides what have been called unconventional representations, another kind of imagery appears in publications from the 1920s. I argue that Jhulelal's representation with the crown and the book have become the official representation of Jhulelal, although minor variations can still be found both in India and in Pakistan. Before addressing the issue of a possible process of standardization, however, it is necessary to focus on a less popular representation: Jhulelal as a warrior.

Jhulelal as a Warrior

In this portion of the chapter, I will study the equestrian representation of Jhulelal. I intend to investigate whether the meaning of such representations is similar in both Pakistan and India. However, first it should be noted that there is a main distinction to be made between Guru Nanak's representations and those of Jhulelal. While the Sikh gurus are almost always shown with a weapon-mostly a bow and a sword-there are three features which commonly help to identify Jhulelal as a warrior and a saviour: he is riding a horse, while holding a flag and a weapon (see fig. 7.4). The saviour-warrior has been able to help people by engaging in fights or a battle on their behalf. Although it will not be fully investigated, because it simply is beyond this chapter's scope, it is amazing to compare representations of the Hindu saviours in Sindh, as for example that of Ramdeo Pir or Pithoro Pir, with those of Jhulelal or the Sikh iconography. Their obvious similarities clearly show a unique pattern (Boivin 2009, 16-21). I will revisit this point below.

It is interesting to observe that Jhulelal's different names, such as Udero Lal or Amar Lal, all include la'l, the Sindhi word for 'red'. This colour is a symbol of knowledge, but also of radiance and spiritual love. Despite the importance of 'red' as a part of the deity's name, as a colour it is not dominant in pictorial representations of Jhulelal. In the booklet Panjṛā Amar La'l jā, Jhulelal is qualified as Sindhu avatar, the incarnation of the Indus River. In two other equestrian representations, he stands alone with his horse and there is no other character in the image. He is holding a spear and his flag (jando), on which some illegible inscription is written. Interestingly, even though Jhulelal is supposed to be the incarnation of the God of the Indus River, the river itself is not shown in the picture.

The vivid and naïve style of representation in fig. 7.4, published in 1926, might be interpreted as the remains of the Kalhora School. The artists might have seen it in temples, such as the one in Ghorabari. Nonetheless, in a later publication, Jhulelal is represented on his horse with two companions who are walking by his side. Here, he is qualified as Shri Udero Lal Bhagwan. He is riding along a river which could hardly be the Indus River due to its small size. He has a spear and his companions are clearing the way for him-a common scene in Hindu iconography. Finally, the equestrian representation of Udero Lal shows him as travelling. Although he is dressed as a warrior, no battle or fight is represented. The picture is intended to express his dedication to the people he is always ready to help. In Pinney's vocabulary, the equestrian representation of Jhulelal belongs both to the category of katha images, since it refers to a supposed event of Jhulelal's life, and to the Kshatriya ideal, which underscores martial values related to war (2004, 92).

It is amazing that the life episode to which Jhulelal as a warrior refers, is actually what we could call a 'non-event'. It is said in the tradition that, when the Muslim king threatened the Hindus, Jhulelal appeared to be coming out from the Indus River, followed by an army. Upon this terrifying sight, the king quickly gave up his plan. However, Jhulelal is usually depicted as a peaceful figure of importance than as a warrior. Moreover, contrary to the Sikh gurus, for example, no object related to war was transmitted to Pugar, his cousin, whom he asked to create the Daryapanth. Nonetheless, a huge equestrian statue was recently installed on the premises of the well in the village of Udero Lal in Sindh. Regarding this representation, we have already noticed its affinity with other equestrian representations, particularly those of Ramdeo Pir and Pithoro Pir. 9 As a matter of fact, the pictorial representation of Jhulelal and that of Ramdeo Pir look quite similar or, at the least, they were constructed from the same pattern. However, the narratives made both of them saviours while, amazingly, Ramdeo Pir is said to have been a Rajput. Thus, the social context is different. Another distinction can be found in terms of followers, especially before Partition. Ramdeo Pir is the diety of the Bhils, an untouchable caste, while Jhulelal is the diety of the Lohanas, a caste ranking higher in terms of status. It is intriguing that two such different social groups, almost located at opposite ends in the caste hierarchy, adopted similar representations of their community gods.

We can suggest different scenarios in this regard. There is, for example, the issue of elite competition. It is possible that the Rajputs, dominant in the rural areas as landowners, could have been challenged by the Lohanas, a rather urban caste specializing in trade, who wanted to increase their prestige by acquiring land. As a matter of fact, among Hindus as well as Muslims in Sindh, the most prestigious classes were those who owned land. The other possible scenario includes a dynamic of upward social mobility. Although the issue was first coined as sanskritization, social mobility during colonial rule was framed under many different shapes. In the rural context of Sindh, it would be relevant to think of a rajputization process. The Bhils and other lower castes could have adopted the iconography of superior castes as a means of slowly being able to claim a similar status. Finally, when one knows that there are presently many followers who belong to so-called Dalit castes, and who are probably the most numerous when it comes to attending the main religious festivals, we could also be witness to a kind of integrating process. The Dalits, nowadays, make up the majority of the Hindu population in Sindh, and the proximity of the equestrian Jhulelal with other Dalit heroes, such as Ramdeo Pir or Pithoro Pir, could argue in favour of there being a deliberate policy of the dominant castes, especially the Lohanas, for the integration of the Dalits into a single and unified Hindu community of Pakistan. This theory, nonetheless, needs further investigation.

Furthermore, the equestrian representation of Jhulelal could express a metaphoric discourse. In a poster found at Chaliha Sahab in Ulhasnagar, 10 Jhulelal emerges from the Indus River with his two companions, Bibir and Tibir, and is heading towards six persons, among them two ladies, one of whom could be the figure of a local devi, standing on the bank of the river. Among the other characters are the Hindu deities, Shiva and Brahma, and Brahma is depicted as an old man with a white beard and three faces. Some fishes can also be seen accompanying Jhulelal. Interestingly, Shiva and Brahma are depicted in inferior sizes and postures when compared to Jhulelal. More than half of the poster on the left side is devoted to the Indus River, with the sky lit by the sun. It is impossible to know, however, if it is the sunset or the sunrise. In the right background, there is a dense forest and on a hill there is a fort housing three shrines, two of them with domes and one with a kind of shikharah.

While the position and gesture of Jhulelal has been the focus of this discussion, his iconographic background is similarly significant. In local architecture, the dome or gumbad is the very symbol of a Muslim shrine, and thus of Islam. On the other hand, the tower in the shape of a shikharah is the ultimate element in the building of a temple and thus signifies Hinduism. Nonetheless, in both cases, the architectural form is the most important feature of such a structure because it is placed above the sanctum. Furthermore, these features make such a structure recognizable from afar. In the case of the Chaliha Sahab poster, it is striking to see that both a gumbad and a shikharah are visible on the bank of the river. Yet, in many other representations, including those in books published in Sindh before Partition, there is only a shikharah. It is tempting to relate this variation to historical context. It sounds relevant since nobody challenges Jhulelal's narrative where he is said to have built a Hindu sanctuary and a Muslim one.

Besides his role of being a warrior or otherwise, the complex issue of Jhulelal's representations can benefit from a brief survey regarding the Thakurs, a specialized religious caste following the Jhulelal cult. Interestingly, an equestrian poster was exhibited in the altar, generally known as the puja room, of Tejbhan Bansilal, a Thakur living in Ulhasnagar. 11 But the place given to it clearly showed that it was not the most significant representation of Jhulelal for Tejbhan: the biggest poster represents Jhulelal as an old and wise man with his most common attributes: the book, the open hand showing off the palm, and him standing on a fish. Therefore, the Thakur's altar could demonstrate that the equestrian representation is peripheral if not marginalized, while at Udero Lal, the most important representation is the equestrian.

A small temple devoted to Jhulelal in Ulhasnagar, and run by a Thakur, could nonetheless challenge this assertion stating that the equestrian representation is marginalized today. As a matter of fact, in this temple located in the area known as Punjabi Colony, one can observe a number of rare representations of Jhulelal. According to the keeper, Giyan Dharamdas Thakur, they were all taken from Sehwan Sharif in Sindh and brought to Ulhasnagar after 1947. Among the unconventional representations, there are Jhulelal's statues with several arms, Jhulelal sitting on a huge crocodile, and others. Due to the variety of representations, it is relevant to argue that the Thakurs are still transmitting a pre-Partition representation of Jhulelal with a much greater diversity than the ones installed in the temples run by non-Thakurs. There is also a beautiful equestrian statue of Jhulelal in steel located there. In fact, there is a temple devoted to a 'Raja Vir' in Ulhasnagar which was, according to the keeper, the name given to Jhulelal when he was young. In this temple, all the representations are equestrian representations, always following the model of Jhulelal riding a horse.

While it is difficult to issue a final comment on the equestrian representation of Jhulelal, one can surmise that the symbolic meaning is slightly different in Pakistan and in India. In India, it clearly alludes to the threat the Muslims caused to the Hindus, as reported in Jhulelal's narrative. In Pakistan, as a discriminated minority, followers need to identify with a warrior who is a potential saviour but, simultaneously, the equestrian representation clearly draws a bridge to the Dalits, who also worship Ramdeo Pir or Pithoro Pir (whose pictorial representations are very close to those of Jhulelal).

'Conventional' Representations and the Process of Standardization from India

After analysing the equestrian representations of Jhulelal, I shall now address the issue of the possible process of standardization of the visual representations. The purpose of this discussion is to decipher the meanings of the standardized representation of Jhulelal; in other words, why did this specific representation finally become so popular after the Partition and migration of Sindhi-Hindus to India? I have already argued that before partition the representation of Jhulelal as king-god was slowly becoming dominant, and I have called it the 'conventional' representation. This serves as a distinction from other marginalized or even vanished images.

The oldest sample of Jhulelal's iconography as a king-god is identified as being a representation known under the name of a sacred figure Khwaja Khizr (see fig. 7.5). It is kept in the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. It was part of an album of paintings and drawings collected by J Lockwood Kipling, the father of Rudyard Kipling, who deposited it in the museum in 1917. The representation is similar to that of the Mughul miniatures of Khwaja Khizr: the figure is amidst the river standing on a fish. Bright and varied colours, however, are used to the detriment of the green which marked the Mughul iconography. The way it is drawn is also different: one can venture to say that it is more 'popular', insofar as the character seems familiar, and far from the codified Mughul representations. 12 One can hardly argue that it was drawn according to a Rajput style of painting, since some specific features (such as the big eyes) are absent. The painter was rather influenced by the massive distribution of Hindu devotional chromolithographs.

One of the first conventional representations is found in a 1921 publication, named Shri Amar Udero Lal. Interestingly, the black and white printed book proposes an array of elements related to Jhulelal's tradition, such as his hagiography or janam-sakhi, as well as diverse devotional genres, such as panjras.

Jhulelal's most conventional image shows him sitting crosslegged on a lotus, which is placed on a fish at midstream in the Indus River (see fig. 7.6). Behind him, on the bank of the river, there is a dense forest, and on the right side there is a temple adorned with a shikharah-like structure. The main iconographic elements are: the halo, the crown, the white beard, a tilak, and the book he is holding with both hands. In his right hand, Jhulelal also holds a rosary. I call this the king-god representation, echoing how Guru Nanak started to be portrayed from the time of the rule of Emperor Maharajah Ranjit Singh (1780-1839) onwards (Singh 2013, 60). Other Sikh gurus were later also shown in this posture, culminating in the tenth guru, Guru Gobind Singh, the founder of the Khalsa in the seventeenth century. In this case, characteristics of the sovereign are more visible than those of the guru (Goswamy and Caron 2007, 149).

An alternative representation pictures Jhulelal with an open hand showing off his palm. This is similar to a common representation of Guru Nanak and a century-old gesture in representations of Hindu gods. The open hand commonly symbolizes the blessing (ashirvad), as it is also found in Hindu Gods' images and statues. Sometimes, it is also from a sacred figure's palm that divine energy spreads. But, in the case of Guru Nanak, it also signifies power. For example, there is a miniature dated from the end of the nineteenth century which pictures Guru Nanak stopping the falling rocks sent by a Muslim pir. This gesture, known as the panjah, obviously displays the superiority of Guru Nanak over Sufism (Goswamy and Caron 2007, 133).

Another important element of the representation is the tilak, the mark on the forehead in the colour red symbolizing the la'l. Although they are not exactly similar, the U form is reminiscent of a Vaishnava sampradāy (tradition, lineage). Maybe it is due to the spread of the Swami Narayan sampradāy which became influential in late nineteenth century Sindh. The power of the Vaishnavas became obvious with the building of a temple devoted to Swami Narayan in the 1890s in Karachi. Funded by Gujarati merchants, it was located on Bunder Road, a main road in the growing city. With its monumental shikharah, it is still the biggest Hindu temple in Karachi and also serves as the seat of the Hindu Panchayat of Pakistan.

The conventional representation was probably more in line with Hindu Vaishnava iconography (the tilak) or even, in the religious context of the Indus Valley, Sikh popular iconography (the hand palm). To explain the presence of these two attributes belonging to other religious traditions, I follow Nikky Singh's argument where, in speaking about Guru Nanak, she argues that although these attributes mean an acknowledgment of other religious traditions, the final aim of these characteristics is to claim that Jhulelal's tradition goes beyond the two others (2013, 49). Finally, it should be acknowledged that no Shivaite element has remained in the conventional representation, while we saw them previously in other representations, for example where Jhulelal is welcomed by Shiva standing on the bank of the Indus River. The persistence of the Narayani-like tilak in the representation could illustrate the victory of the Vaishnavas among the community in the standardization process of Jhulelal's representation.

In this representation, an interesting point is that Jhulelal is in a three-quarter profile, i.e. he is not looking the viewer in the eye but looks past them. This is also how Jhulelal would come to be represented in post-Partition iconography. Similarly, Guru Nanak was also not facing the viewer in his early representations. In the Hindu devotional tradition, the gaze is a very important matter: if a god is not watching a viewer, the devotee cannot have the darshan. The darshan is a visual interaction between the god's image and the devotee, important to reach a higher spiritual realm (Babb 1981, 397).

The conventional representation can be found in most of the temples devoted to Jhulelal in India as well as in Pakistan. Despite the ongoing standardization process, every single local community of devotees still has the flexibility to select elements which allows them to build a specific tradition. These elements can be the colour of Jhulelal's eyes, his headgear, and, above all, different kinds of textiles or clothes which are put on him, often in relation to different rituals and festivals. The three constants found in almost all standardized representations are a red mark on the forehead, a book in hands, and a white beard. Although Jhulelal is sometimes standing, a fourth feature might be his position sitting crossedlegged on a fish. Another important feature is that Jhulelal is alone, and the only other living being is the fish. His two companions are not present, and there is no crowd welcoming him.

The transformation of Jhulelal's iconography was not only linked with internal factors, such as competition between different castes and classes among the Hindu-Sindhis. Clearly, it was also closely bound to the history of popular Hindu images during the whole twentieth century. The printing of religious images started in India in the 1890s and, in reference to Sindh, a number of factors played a role in the evolution of Jhulelal's representations. During the twentieth century, the mass printing of iconography was dominated by Nathdwara production in Karachi, which printed lithographs and postcards, as well as calendars. Two brothers coming from a Vallabha background, Shrimathdasji and Shyamsunderlal Brijbasi, came to Nathdwara, a small pilgrimage centre near Udaipur in Rajasthan, where they hired Brahman painters specialized in devotional paintings (Pinney 2004, 81-2). The Brijbasi brothers were the main actors for spreading Bhakti-related images all over India. They and their family successors dominated the market of religious images from the 1920s until the end of the century. Since they were based in Karachi up through Partition, it can be assumed that they also had a role in the rise of Jhulelal's representation as king-god. Furthermore, after Partition, the iconographical standardization of Jhulelal can be related to another pictorial corporation founded in Bombay by Parmanand S Mehra and his brothers, who had migrated from Sukkur in Sindh (Pinney 2004, 158). They hired Nathdwara Brahman painters who had previously worked for the Brijbasi brothers. The intense circulation of images in independent India had sometimes amazing consequences, such as the similarity of the head of Jhulelal with that of Vishvakarma. 13 The only element attesting Vishvakarma is not Jhulelal is the absence of the fish on which he stands.

Perhaps the last step in the standardization process involves Muslims borrowing the Hindu-dominant representation, featuring the red tilak. Previously, the image of the saint they referred to as Khwaja Khizr or Jinda Pir had already been represented with Hindu attributes, such as the pot-shaped crown or the lotus (Frembgen 2006, 14). Moreover, in the poster shown in Frembgen's book, there are peacock feathers and a mark on the forehead, although it is not the Vaishnava tilak. Interestingly, Khizr is a Quranic figure who is also associated with other Christian saints in the Middle East such as Saint George.

To date, a poster is exhibited in the guest hall at Udero Lal where the Muslim sajjadah nashin welcomes his guests. It is the ultimate standardized representation, where Jhulelal has the Vaishnava tilak and other Hindu attributes. Despite this, Muslim devotees still claim that Jhulelal was Muslim and not Hindu. However, the spread of Jhulelal's representation reflects the influence of mainstream Hinduism. Interestingly, starting from India and probably transmitted through the matas and the Indian pilgrims, this representation has also been adopted by the Muslim followers in Pakistan.

There are many more issues regarding the 'official' representation of Jhulelal. I will address some of them with the help of a case study about a statue located in the Sita Sindhu Bhavan, the Sindhi cultural centre created by Ram Panjwani (1911-87) (see fig. 7.7). As a matter of fact, Ram Panjwani (Boivin 2016, 241) might have played a main role in the distribution of the conventional image of Jhulelal. Panjwani is an artist, singer, actor, and director of films. He wrote the script and also himself played in the film Jhulelal issued in 1966. The film was adapted from a novel Panjwani had published in 1955 and the opening scene shows the procession of Jhulelal's statue in Bombay. Panjwani might just have been a spokesperson, however we can hardly think that he could have been able to impose a representation without the support of a powerful group. My main questions for this section therefore are: Who were the agents who decided that this representation of Jhulelal would become the official one? And, through this decision, what did they wish to convey? As suggested before, this debate also reflects the competition between two groups-the Lohanas and the Thakursinvolved in Jhulelal's cult in different contexts.

Today, the Thakurs still play a priestly role, but mainly outside of the temples dedicated to Jhulelal (with some exceptions, such as the temple of Punjabi Colony in Ulhasnagar). 14 They travel all over India to perform socio-religious rituals such as the janeo and the bahrano. 15 The large majority of the temples are managed by people who wear different religious titles, such as maharaj or bawa, but they mostly belong to the Lohana caste. A similar situation prevails across the border. In Pakistan, it is apparently due to the fact that all of the Thakurs have migrated to India from 1947 onwards. But the migration of the Thakurs to India could not be the only factor for explaining the shifting of the authority from them to other categories of priests. Let us examine how authority was transmitted in the durbar of Udero Lal at the time of Partition.

Unfortunately, it is not possible to know when the shifting of the gaddi from the Thakurs to non-Thakurs occurred at the durbar of Udero Lal in Sindh. According to their own account, the Thakurs were the main authorities for centuries, and they claim succession since Pugar, and thus the time of Jhulelal. For reasons which are not clear and involve too many contradictory narratives, a Thakur adopted a Lohana, Pritam Das (c. 1973), to succeed him. We however do not know why this happened, but one reason could be that the Thakur had no descendants. Also, the Lohanas are the most powerful caste among the Sindhi-Hindus. This holds true for both Pakistan and India.

If the Lohanas were those who selected Jhulelal's official representation as the king-god, what does it mean beyond the insertion of the Sindhi-Hindus into mainstream Hinduism? In a more sociological approach, a typology built by Max Weber in the early twentieth century might be helpful. According to Weber, there is a strong relationship between the followers-especially their occupations-and the type of saint or deity they worshipped. He noted that the illiterate or the non-educated Hindu castes (the traders also belonged to this group) venerated a living guru (2003, 528). The construction of Jhulelal's pictorial representation before Partition shows that the Lohanas were already looking at being incorporated into mainstream Hinduism. According to British colonial sources, the Lohanas made up half of the Hindus of Sindh. They were mostly involved in trade and money-lending; some were also landowners in the province. Interestingly, the Amils, who were initially a sub-caste of the Lohanas, became a community specialized as scribes of the colonial administration, hence they were placed as an intellectual caste. They did not worship Jhulelal, but were mainly Nanakpanthis and followers of Sufi pirs. If one follows Weber's typology, the Lohanas were worshipping the gaddi nashin of Udero Lal as a kind of incarnation of Jhulelal. The standardized representation of Jhulelal by the Lohanas clearly shows their main aim was to communicate their domination over the whole society of Sindh before Partition. After Partition, the almighty Jhulelal was also used as a symbol to express a discourse stating the power of the Lohanas in relation to their role in Indian trade. Last but not least, in his new representation, Jhulelal looks at the viewer, eye to eye, thus allowing for the darshan.

Let us now turn to the semiological approach in order to go deeper into the analysis of Jhulelal's representations. Following Roland Barthes, an image usually provides three messages: a linguistic one, an iconic coded message, and an iconic non-coded message (1964, 42). The representation of the Sita Sindhu Bhavan does not have any caption and apparently the people arranging the statue did not feel the need to put inscriptions. Not including any inscription, allows the viewer to project his own representation of the sacred figure without any boundaries. As is well known, absence is a discourse of its own. Barthes states that the two remnant messages are the cultural or symbolic message, which is coded, and the literal or perceptive message, which is noncoded. Nonetheless, the literal message works in support of the symbolic message. Jhulelal's statue in Sita Sindhu Bhavan issues both messages. What does the literal one express? In other words, what will anyone think or even feel upon seeing the statue without knowing the codes, and especially without having knowledge of who Jhulelal is? The literal message is implemented through the watching of a number of objects, including the gaddi on which he is sitting, the crown, and the book, which is in fact sheets of paper with illegible inscriptions. Then, there is the palo on which he is sitting cross-legged. The cross-legged position is well known in South Asia: it expresses stability and consequently the mastering of something, here knowledge, as symbolized by the sheets of paper. Holding a book in his hands means that Jhulelal is the keeper of a tradition, and that he is the provider of spiritual knowledge. The meaning of the crown is obvious as a literal message: it refers to kingship and thus to power. Therefore, these accumulated literal messages have a very clear meaning: to state the power of the tradition embodied by Jhulelal. Using the symbols of the king, the statue signifies that Jhulelal is controlling the sphere of spiritual knowledge and, as a king, is ruling over his own territory.

From a brief survey of the inscriptions found in books and as captions of statues and posters suggest, one can deduce that the linguistic message gives specific information despite the stereotyped representation of Jhulelal-a situation that Roland Barthes did not particularly consider. As a matter of fact, while the pictorial representation immediately provides the identity of the figure, the inscriptions provide information beyond the representation itself. The functions of anchor and relay, as established by Roland Barthes, are here disconnected since the captions work as a kind of meta-language which is intended for those who have a specific knowledge of Jhulelal's tradition. This meta-language mainly works through the attribution of a given denomination. Each denomination refers to a variety of meanings the viewer can easily identify. For example, the equestrian representation of Jhulelal can be named as Darya Shah, Raja Vir, Udero Lal, etc. Giving a specific name to the representation makes naming or explaining the meaning of the representation unnecessary.

Conclusion

To conclude, the issue addressed in this chapter was related to how iconography can inform the relation between two nation states that are often deemed as the best enemies. The study was based on a sacred figure venerated by Muslims, Hindus, and Sikhs in the Sindhi-speaking areas. First, I have shown that iconography is not static when it comes to representations of a sacred figure. Already, before Partition, Jhulelal's iconography was constructed according to the different episodes of his official narrative. In the context of an illiterate population, it was important to issue a pictorial representation of the main episodes which made the figure a praised and venerated saviour. The friezes found by Monique Kervran in the Ghorabari temple show that Jhulelal's pictorial tradition could be included in the Kalhora School of painting which flourished in the eighteenth century. But obviously, there is a gap between these and the new pictorial representations of the late nineteenth century.

One can distinguish three main phases in the modern iconographical construction. First came the phase of the construction of an iconography, probably shaped in tight relation to Sikh iconography. Jhulelal is represented together with a musician or a companion. The main artefacts are the river and the fish. If it is accepted that the iconography underscores the transmission of the tradition from Jhulelal to Pugar, one can surmise it was a production of the Thakurs, who were the descendants of Pugar and who, through the iconography, wanted to display the legitimacy of their authority. The second phase was marked by the dominance of Jhulelal as a warrior. Here, the main artefacts are the horse, the flag, and the sword. Interestingly, this representation could mean a rupture with the Sikh legacy. Furthermore, it could also reflect a new balance of power in Sindh, especially in relation to the worsening of communal relations. The third phase was that of the king-god. While it is difficult to know the details, this representation existed before Partition, but it was obviously 'canonized' in post-Partition India. A quick search for Jhulelal with Google Images unambiguously shows that there is a process of standardization of Jhulelal's representations. It started in India since it allowed the Sindhis of India to achieve a dual goal: on the one side, the figure is associated with 'Sindhiness' (Sindhiyyat) and thus provides a specific and recognizable identity, and on the other side, through the incorporation of a Vaishnava emblem, it works as a powerful integrative tool in mainstream Hinduism.

In Pakistan, Jhulelal's visual representations are more diverse, and I surmise that some are from pre-Partition times. But although the equestrian figure is more widespread than in India, Jhulelal as the king-god is the dominant representation. It is interesting to see how the Muslims are slowly adopting a Hindu representation. I can consequently observe that Partition and the creation of two nation states did not prevent the Sindhis, both Hindu and Muslim, from permanently re-constructing Sindhiyyat. But far from essentializing this issue, I rather wish to highlight the ability of keeping two processes that are seemingly contradictory together: staying the same in maintaining the vernacular representation, and being open to change to demonstrate contemporaneity.

Notes

1. This chapter is part of an ongoing research project on Jhulelal, the Udero Lal Research Project (ULRP) hosted by the Centre for South Asian Studies (CEIAS) at the Advanced School of Social Sciences (EHESS): https:// uderolalresearchproject.wordpress.com/. It is an international, multi-sited, and multidisciplinary programme since it includes scholars from France, India, and Pakistan, and spans a number of fields such as anthropology, history, visual studies, and architecture. 2. Among the rare academic literature devoted to Jhulelal, the most relevant study is the paper published by Lata Parwani, 2010. 3. Historical iconography is a kind of neglected field in Sindhi studies, which do not include contemporary pictorial productions made in Karachi especially. Recently, however, Zulfiqar Ali Kalhoro has devoted a number of papers to seventeenth and eighteenth century paintings found in tombs and temples (Kalhoro 2014). See also the pioneering paper by Idris Siddiqui on miniatures from an eighteenth century manuscript kept by the British Library (Siddiqui 1969). 4. While some traces of floral motifs still survive in the dome, the black dust covering the walls implies that the temple was set on fire. 5. The following details were provided by Monique Kervran. I would like to warmly thank her. 6. 'Darya Shah' was another name for Jhulelal. 7. Being aware that using such words as 'naïve' or 'refined' can be misunderstood, I believe it is necessary to mention that there is no attempt here to rank the types of representations. The only aim is to analyse their content for the purpose of elaborating on the interplay between visual representations and the building process of Sindhiyyat. 8. The 'path of the Indus River' is the name given to Jhulelal's tradition, which has today fallen by the wayside, especially in India. 9. Beyond the probable impact of the Kshatriya ideal, it is a very complex matter why a number of deities are represented as warriors, but above all in a very similar shape. This pattern includes Jhulelal, Ramdeo Pir, Pithoro Pir, and Pabuji, all having equestrian representations which can be observed in many temples of Sindh. For a very brief introduction to the issue, see Boivin 2010. In some areas, there is also the cult of the jhujhars, the warriors who die on the battlefield and who came back as spirits. See Kalhoro 2014, 9. The Shia iconography also represents equestrian horsemen as martyrs in the battle of Karbala, where Prophet Muhammad's (pbuh) grandson Hussein was killed with his family and his companions. 10. Ulhasnagar is about 60 km from Mumbai in Maharashtra. Also known as Sindhunagar, it was officially created on 8 August 1949 for hosting the Hindu Sindhi refugees fleeing from Pakistan. Today, it is probably the most highly Sindhi populated city of India. According to official sources, Ulhasnagar hosts 400,000 Sindhis over a total population of 500,000 inhabitants. 11. The Thakurs are the priestly caste of Jhulelal, being the descendants of Pugar. But, since Partition, their role in the tradition has obviously been vanishing. Nonetheless, they still tour in India to visit Sindhi families and perform the main rituals, such as the janeo (thread) and others. The janeo or janiyo ritual is a rite of passage for a young Hindu male (Boivin 2016, 168). Tejbhan Bansilal was born in Sehwan Sharif, in Sindh. 12. On Khwaja Khizr see Boivin 2018. 13. See the representation of this deity of artisan castes in Pinney's book (2004, 172). Without further investigation, I cannot claim that Vishvakarma's representation, especially his face, was borrowed from Jhulelal, although the printed material of Jhulelal (starting in the 1920s) would argue in this direction. 14. I have visited more than twenty temples devoted to Jhulelal in Pakistan and in India. It is the only one which was run by Thakurs. 15. The bahrano is made of wheat flour, ghee, fruits, and flowers, and is offered as a gift to Jhulelal during a number of celebrations.

PAKISTAN: ALTERNATIVE IMAG(IN)INGS OF THE NATION STATE

PAKISTAN: ALTERNATIVE IMAG(IN)INGS OF THE NATION STATE

PAKISTAN: ALTERNATIVE IMAG(IN)INGS OF THE NATION STATE