That is why the demand by some Hindutva outfits to shift Aurangzeb’s grave from Khuldabad is irrational. Their protests on Monday caused mob violence in Nagpur. In the Maharashtra legislative assembly, chief minister Devendra Fadnavis has said he suspected that the violence was pre-planned and warned against the disruption of law and order. The ongoing campaign against Aurangzeb follows the release of the film, Chhava, based on the life of Sambhaji, the son of Maratha ruler Chhatrapati Shivaji, who was killed by Aurangzeb’s army. Whatever the reasons are, as Fadnavis rightly said, “everyone must keep Maharashtra peaceful”.

Aurangzeb’s complicated legacy — not very different from that of many monarchs of his time — should be studied, not as an exercise in validation or vilification but to remember how bigotry, sectarian statecraft, unlimited hunger for territory, and warmongering can destroy even the mightiest of empires. Aurangzeb’s predecessors on the Mughal throne allowed the coexistence of communities — Akbar and Dara Shikoh, the elder brother, who Aurangzeb killed to usurp the throne, patronised religious syncretism. They were smart to build alliances with local rulers. In contrast, Aurangzeb’s regime, according to many historians, was characterised by the emperor’s religious zealotry. Modern Maharashtra admires and sees Shivaji as a founding figure and perceives Aurangzeb as an invader. But there are also communal, caste, and political undercurrents that influence this narrative.

Still, it is a short-sighted ploy to do politics over the grave of a man who died centuries ago and revive fault lines that are best left untouched. The Mahayuti won office with a sweeping mandate and has big plans to expand the state’s economy. It must not let trivial but divisive issues derail its governance vision or the momentum it has showed in its first 100 days in office. Hopefully, the clashes on Monday will be the last of its kind. Let the dead stay buried.