The Asset that Wins Affection
Lord William Bentinck, British Governor General in India from 1828 to 1835, has the dubious distinction of being remembered as the man who ordered the destruction of the Taj Mahal in Agra—an order which, fortunately, he was never able to have carried out. This was revealed at the turn of the century by the then Viceroy, Lord Curzon. The East India Company had been going through hard times, Lord Curzon explained, and it was suggested to Lord Bentinck that a sale of the Taj would fetch Rs. 100,000—enough to extricate the company from its financial crisis. News of the Company’s intentions circulated, and there was stiff opposition to such a move. This infuriated Lord Bentinck, who then went one step further and gave orders for the total destruction of the Taj. Opposition to the imperial command stepped up, with both Hindus and Muslims joining in one massive voice of protest. The danger that a full-scale rebellion would ensue if the Taj was destroyed prompted the Governor General’s advisers to persuade Lord Bentinck to withdraw the order.
It was not the people who saved the Taj Mahal. It was its own beauty which saved it. If the Taj Mahal had not been beautiful, it would not have won such overwhelming support; Hindus and Muslims would not have united behind it to foil the British government’s designs.
Had the constructors of the Taj Mahal been able to reproduce in themselves the beauty which they produced so perfectly in their work of construction, they too would have been protected by their own quality. Just as virtue in a thing wins support for its cause, so virtue in humans has the same effect. It wins appreciation from strangers. It even wins friends from the enemy camp.
The Taj Mahal’s virtue lies in its beauty, while a human being’s beauty lies in a virtuous nature. But a person’s beauty should not be like that of a snake—a beautiful appearance marred by a venomous sting. How do people “sting”? By presenting a challenge to others’ political and economic interests; by repeatedly resorting to violence in their dealings with others; by constantly alienating people with senseless, impulsive actions. Any virtue that one might have is cancelled out by such a “sting”, and prevents one from winning people’s affection.
It is the Taj Mahal’s silent beauty that has won people’s hearts. Who would have time for it if, in all its beauty, it tormented those who looked upon it?
