Sambhal Ground Report: No violence on Holi yet uneasy calm prevails in UP town

In the pre-dawn hours, an eerie silence hangs over the historic town of Sambhal in western Uttar Pradesh. Normally, its labyrinthine alleys would be abuzz with traders setting up their stalls and tea vendors pouring steaming cups for early risers.

Now, however, the mood is subdued. Security forces in riot gear stood at key intersections, their presence a stark reminder of the tension that has gripped this predominantly Muslim town since the Holi festivities turned into an unsettling display of aggression.

Shops remain shuttered, and conversations are hushed, whispered behind closed doors. The administration insisted that peace has been restored, yet the reality on the ground suggested otherwise.

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A festival turns tense

What should have been a joyous festival quickly spiralled into apprehension when, according to residents, provocative slogans were raised during a Holi procession passing through Muslim-majority areas. Witnesses claim that chants of “Hari Mandir bana ke rahenge” and “Hari Mandir ki jai” echoed through the streets, stoking fear among the community.

“The police just stood there,” says Abdul Rehman, an elderly shopkeeper near Jama Masjid, his voice trembling with anger. “It felt deliberate. The slogans were meant to provoke, to send a message.”

Others shared his concerns but are reluctant to go on record. “We’ve lived here together for generations,” says a middle-aged resident, requesting anonymity. “Why must these processions pass through our areas, raising slogans that make us feel like outsiders in our town?”

On the other hand, Hindu residents argued that they did nothing wrong. “It’s our festival,” says Rajesh Singh, a local businessman. “If some people take offence at slogans, that’s their problem, not ours.”

Police officials maintained that their role has been neutral. Circle Officer Anuj Chaudhry, speaking to The Federal, dismisses claims of bias. “Everything is under control. There is no cause for alarm,” he asserts. A senior officer, speaking off the record, admits that tensions ran high but insists that law enforcement acted responsibly. “People will always claim bias, but the facts speak for themselves—there was no violence.”

Yet, for many in Sambhal, the absence of violence does not equate to peace.

A town on edge

Fear and mistrust permeate the air. During Holi processions, young men in Muslim neighbourhoods are careful not to gather in groups for too long, wary of drawing police attention. Conversations revolve around caution — what to say, or what not to say, where to go, whom to trust.

“We are not going anywhere,” says Shoaib, a 24-year-old resident. “But we just want fairness. Today it’s slogans; tomorrow, what next?”

For older residents, the situation evokes painful memories of past communal tensions. “It is always the same pattern,” says 72-year-old Rahmat Ali. “First, there are the slogans, then the threats, then the violence. We have seen this before.”

In response to the unrest, authorities ramped up security measures. Barricades were erected at key points, and drone surveillance was deployed to monitor sensitive areas. Friday prayers at the historic Jama Masjid—usually held at 1:30 p.m.—were rescheduled to 2:30 p.m. as a precaution.

Inside the mosque, worshippers perform their prayers under the watchful eyes of security personnel stationed outside. While some see this as necessary for maintaining order, others view it as an unsettling sign of how fragile peace has become.

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Communal faultlines

Sambhal’s history is steeped in both cultural richness and communal faultlines. Once a strategic stronghold under Firoz Shah Tughlaq and later an important Mughal outpost, the town flourished as a hub of trade and agriculture. But history has not always been kind.

The Partition of 1947 left deep scars, with communal violence shaking the town. Decades later, in the 1980s and 1990s, tensions flared again as Hindu nationalist movements gained traction. Many of the grievances from those eras remain unresolved, simmering beneath the surface and resurfacing whenever new conflicts emerge.

Community elders recall a time when disputes were settled within the town. “We used to sit together and resolve things,” says Rahmat Ali. “Now, decisions are made elsewhere—by politicians, by outsiders.”

The role of political and external influences looms large. As historian and local scholar Dr Irfan Qureshi notes, “What we are witnessing now is part of a larger pattern. This isn’t just about a procession. It’s about the changing social and political landscape, where small provocations are used to deepen divisions.”

Policing, perception of bias

While officials insist that law enforcement remains neutral, the perception on the ground is different. Many Muslims in Sambhal believe that the police turned a blind eye to the provocative slogans while being quick to impose restrictions on their community.

“Why is it that when we protest, it’s called a law and order problem, but when they raise slogans, it’s called celebrating culture,” asks a resident, frustrated with what he sees as double standards.

Retired officer IG SR Darapuri, speaking to The Federal, admits that communal policing often involves unspoken biases. “In theory, the police are neutral. In practice, political pressure and local dynamics mean that enforcement is rarely equal.”

The distrust runs deep, and incidents like the Holi procession only reinforce existing suspicions.

Voices of resilience

Despite the tensions, there are those working to restore trust. Local activists and religious leaders from both communities are holding quiet meetings, trying to prevent further escalation.

“We cannot let politics divide us,” says a Maulana, a senior cleric at Jama Masjid, pleading anonymity. “Faith should be a force of unity, not division.”

Also read: UP: Barred from Sambhal visit, Congress workers scuffle with police

Among Hindus, some residents also expressed concern over the rising communal rhetoric. “We have lived with our Muslim neighbours for generations,” says Sanjay Mishra, a schoolteacher. “This is our town together. If we let outsiders dictate our relationships, we will all suffer.”

Yet, such voices remain dominated by the larger climate of fear.

A fragile peace

As the day progressed, a semblance of normalcy returned. Shops opened hesitantly, children back in alleyways, and street vendors resumed business. But the sight of patrolling police vehicles served as a reminder that the situation remained precarious.

The question now is not just whether peace will hold even after Holi, but whether the deeper fractures exposed by this episode will heal or fester into something worse.

For now, Sambhal watches and waits. The uneasy calm remains, fragile as ever.