REVIEW ARTICLE 83 The conflict over the 'disputed structure', as the Government of India characterizes it, has spawned an enormous literature. The contours of the debate have predictably been determined by proponents and antagonists of the 'temple theory': one side is of the view that the archaeological and historical 'evidence' furnishes irrefutable proof of the existence of a temple at the Rama Janmasthan (birthplace of Rama) before it was brought down and a mosque built partly with its debris; the other side is just as certain that the evidence cannot sustain the aforementioned hypothesis. Beyond the narrow confines of the particular question of whether a temple stood at the site where the Babri Masjif was later erected, the debate has revolved around a series of political, legal, and constitutional considerations. How could the law have been flaunted so easily? Why did the state, which had positioned nearly 20,000 troops in the vicinity of the mosque and around it, remain woefully negligent in the performance of its duty to protect the mosque? To whom should culpability be assigned? For those, inside and outside India, to whom the Indian political scenario represents an unending series of crises, a country once again seemingly on the verge of collapse, the query is easily framed: Will India survive? Or is the country, devoud of 'law and order', bereft (if we are to believe Nirad Chaudhari and his ilk) of the principled and firm hand of India's former guardian class, bound to putrefy in the stink of its (as some believe) 'ageless' hatreds? A somewhat more idealist or philosophical tone has been injected into the literature by those who, confronted by the demise of 'secularism', find in the events leading to, and following, the destruction of the mosque a betrayal of the ideals for which Indian nationalists waged a war of independence against British rule. The future of India as a 'secular' state, where Muslims and other minorities can enjoy the same rights and security as Hindus, appears very much endangered. What is it to be an 'Indian' any more? Ramchandra Gandhi, an Indian philosopher and independent scholar of considerable repute, has wisely refused to step inside this debate, pitched partially as the confrontation of 'fundamentalism' with 'secularism', or even partake of its terms. That is suggested by the very title of his work, 'Sita's Kitchen', a translation of the more mellifluous and poignant 'Sita-ki-Rasoi', a largely ignored structure which, standing apart from the now-demolished Babri Masjid, nonetheless constitutes a part of the entire complex. It is not that the 'honour' of India is of no concern to Gandhi; rather, he locates it not in a secularism which has little room for faith, but in the overwhelmingly rich and complex traditions of Indian spirituality and religious tolerance. Unlike the secularist antagonists of the 'temple theory', Gandhi had no difficulty, as he stood in front of the mosque and noticed 'the carved lotuses and pillars' supporting the mosque at the bottom, 'and the hexagonal tantric motifs on the walls above the arches and other unmistakably Hindu features of the structure', in admitting that