The Demolition of Kashi: How the Cultural Heritage of the PM’s Constituency is Being Systematically Erased
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In Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s own constituency, bulldozers have demolished not just buildings, but also Varanasi’s soul. From uprooted shivlings to displaced families, the city that survived centuries of invasions now falls to development projects claiming to restore its glory.
The irony cuts deep: In Varanasi, temples are being destroyed to build temple tourism. Since 2014, sources claim that approximately 286 shivlings were uprooted during construction projects, with many allegedly discarded in drains; only 146 were recovered. A prominent temple custodian’s claim that more temples were destroyed under the current government than during past conquests was dismissed by officials, yet residents say sacred objects have vanished beneath new constructions.
The Temple Destruction Paradox
While authorities claim that 40-45 ancient temples were “discovered” during demolitions, this discovery came at a devastating cost. Temple custodians and residents report that numerous small neighborhood temples and shrines were demolished in the process, their sacred objects uprooted and lost. The Chappan Vinayak temple, dedicated to Lord Ganesha, faced demolition threats, prompting desperate legal petitions by residents asserting their ancestral right to worship there.
What officials call discovery, locals call desecration. Sources claim that of the 286 shivlings uprooted, many were allegedly thrown in drains during construction, a charge that officials deny, but residents who witnessed demolitions insist is true. Even the current temple custodian was forcibly evicted from his ancestral house, and Shiva-lingas and vigrahas that had been worshipped with full respect for generations now lie buried beneath new constructions or have disappeared entirely.
The grim arithmetic reveals the paradox: to glorify one grand temple, hundreds of smaller temples embedded in homes, lanes, and neighborhoods, the intimate spiritual infrastructure of Banarasi life was sacrificed. The city’s gullies and temples have been “razed in hundreds” to expand the temple area from 3,000 to 500,000 sq ft, destroying the very fabric that gave the city its soul.
Locals Abandon Their Own Temple
The most damning evidence of failure lies in what remains unspoken by official narratives: many local Banarasis no longer visit the modernised Kashi Vishwanath Corridor, preferring instead the city’s smaller, traditional temples where they still feel a spiritual connection. The pilgrimage that once began from their doorsteps, passing through narrow lanes dotted with neighborhood shrines, small shops selling puja materials, ancient trees where offerings were made, and family temples where generations had worshipped, has been replaced by a vast, impersonal complex that locals describe as alienating.
“The heritage of Kashi Vishwanath was the sprawling narrow streets around it, among which resided the smallest temples within people’s houses,” residents explain, describing a living spiritual ecosystem now obliterated. The journey to the temple was itself an act of devotion; each lane held stories, each small shrine marked a sacred geography known intimately to families who had walked these paths for centuries. The corridor project demolished this organic pilgrimage, replacing layered spiritual meaning with tourist infrastructure.
Residents express deep skepticism about official claims. “It cannot be possible that when they demolished so many houses, they didn’t find several Shivalingas and idols of Vinayaka. They have been deceitful, and all those idols of our faith have been lost,” one resident stated. A union leader voiced sharper criticism: “We thought this government was for the rights of Hindus. But these people have only fooled the Hindus. See for yourself how many idols have been thrown into the garbage”.
Many Banarasis now doubt claims of protecting the Hindu faith as sacred objects vanish and custodians are displaced. The district administration’s defense that no idols were destroyed rings hollow to those who witnessed the demolitions firsthand.
Destroying Varanasi’s Syncretic Soul
For centuries, Varanasi embodied cultural synthesis: Muslim weavers creating Banarasi sarees for Hindu brides, renowned musicians playing at Hindu temples, Muslim artisans crafting idols for Hindu festivals, and mixed neighborhoods sharing festivals and sorrows. This was the Ganga-Jamuni tehzeeb, the cultural confluence that made Kashi eternal.
Bharat Ratna Ustad Bismillah Khan played shehnai daily at the Balaji Hanuman temple, his music sanctifying Hindu prayer, a tradition where religion didn’t matter, only devotion. Pakistani ghazal maestro Ustad Ghulam Ali performed at the Sankat Mochan Hanuman temple, singing “I was singing at Hanuman Mandir and religion didn’t matter,” his voice resonating inside temple walls as a testament to Varanasi’s syncretic soul. This was the Ganga-Jamuni tehzeeb, the cultural confluence that made Kashi eternal.
The current demolition drive systematically targets this syncretic heritage. The Dalmandi market, predominantly operated by Muslim traders for generations near the temple, faces destruction. Approximately 10,000 shops risk demolition, devastating not just the local economy but Varanasi’s traditional interfaith culture. The displacement represents more than economic loss; it signals erasure of the cultural exchange that characterised Banaras for millennia.
The legendary Banarasi saree tradition, where weavers struggle to earn meager daily wages while their craft dies, symbolises this cultural assault. These artisans didn’t just create fabric; they wove together communities. The replacement of traditional craft with mechanised production severs bonds between communities that celebrated each other’s artistry for generations.
The attempt to create a “purified” religious tourism destination destroys what made Varanasi sacred: its ability to hold multiple truths, to allow diverse communities to contribute to shared sacred geography. The narrow lanes being demolished weren’t just pathways; they were spaces where this cultural synthesis happened organically, daily, without spectacle. The grand corridor has no room for such complexity, only for processed religion served to tourists seeking uncomplicated spiritual experiences.
Converting Religion into Revenue
Tourist footfall exploded from 8.5 crore in 2023 to 11 crore in 2024, with daily visitors reaching 100,000-150,000. Officials celebrate these numbers as development success. But this surge masks the systematic conversion of Varanasi’s living spiritual culture into a commodified tourist product that has alienated the people for whom the city holds deepest meaning.
The corridor, expanded from 3,000 to 500,000 sq ft, was designed to accommodate this tourist influx. Officials refuse to acknowledge that in creating infrastructure for 11 crore annual visitors, they destroyed the intimate spiritual ecosystem that made Varanasi sacred. The narrow lanes where neighborhood shrines existed, where devotion was practiced as daily life rather than staged spectacle, have been razed to create what locals increasingly describe as a “religious mall”.
The government projects religious tourism revenue of Rs 59 billion by 2028 and 140 million jobs by 2030. Behind these statistics lies a question: jobs and revenue for whom? Not for the 600 families displaced, nor thousands of shopkeepers facing bulldozers, nor artisans earning Rs 150-200 daily while their crafts die.
Perhaps nothing symbolises the transformation more than corporatised worship. In October 2024, the temple introduced “Sugam Darshan” tickets at ₹300, monetising traditionally free divine access. Traditional prasad preparation was replaced with packaged prasad manufactured by corporate dairies, sold through branded counters at ₹120, transforming sacred offerings into merchandise with corporate logos. The temple now operates ticket categories, online reservations, and commercial counters, a radical departure from community-centered worship that defined Varanasi for millennia.
This is the ultimate betrayal: a government claiming to champion Hindu revival has converted the sacred into the saleable, devotion into darshan tickets, prasad into packaged products. The tourists come, but Banarasis, who gave this city its soul, are leaving spiritually if not physically, seeking authentic worship elsewhere while their ancestral temple becomes a destination for religious tourism rather than religious life.
The Rivers That Named Varanasi Now Sewers
Varanasi derives its name from two sacred rivers, Varuna and Assi, that once flowed into the Ganga, defining spiritual boundaries. After twelve years of promises on river revival and Namami Gange, both tributaries are virtual sewers.
The Varuna and Assi are now almost dead waterways choked with sewage, plastic, and effluents. Despite crores spent, locals report the rivers have never been filthier, their ghats abandoned, exposing the chasm between official claims of spiritual restoration and actual environmental destruction.
Heritage Sacrificed: 300 Structures, 600 Families
Between 2018-2021, over 300 structures housing 600 families were demolished for the corridor. Among the razed buildings: ancestral homes of prominent Hindi writers, journalists, and descendants of renowned scholars. Historic libraries, some of UP’s oldest repositories of knowledge, were demolished or damaged. Officials reportedly dug foundations of heritage-protected structures until they “collapsed on their own,” circumventing preservation laws.
A police officer witnessed the destruction: “What has been built looks beautiful and shiny, but what we have lost in the process, the stone carvings and other heritage elements, is tragic”. Residents lamented: “Heritage has been sacrificed at the altar of development”.
In June 2025, authorities demolished iconic food establishments over 75-100 years old for road widening, cultural institutions where generations experienced an authentic Banarasi identity. These weren’t shops; they were living memory, taste, and tradition.
Dalmandi: Terror by Night, Protest by Day
The latest crisis unfolds in Dalmandi, a centuries-old market near the temple. The area housing 500 shops has 186 buildings marked for demolition to widen roads at ₹224 crore. Municipal authorities directed that ₹2.28 crore in pending taxes be deducted from compensation for 170 structures. Residents learned through the media, receiving no official notices.
“Houses are being forced to vacate at night by intimidation. We don’t know where to go, and winter is approaching. Our families could be left on the streets,” traders report. By late November 2025, demolitions continued despite fierce opposition. Shopkeepers describe desperation: “This is our home and livelihood. We have lived here for generations. The government’s actions are putting thousands at risk, and it feels like our heritage is being destroyed overnight”.
The compensation system reveals structural injustice: building owners receive minimal payment while tenants operating shops for generations receive nothing. “The government has not clarified what compensation tenants will get. Only building owners are considered, while shopkeepers have been left in uncertainty,” one explains. A father of three describes the existential crisis: “This shop is my only livelihood. If taken away, I don’t know how I will survive”.
Approximately 10,000 shops could ultimately be affected, devastating the local economy and Varanasi’s traditional culture.
Artisans Strangled, Culture Commodified
While tourist revenue surges, Varanasi’s artisan economy collapses. A handloom weaver describes economic strangulation: “We do not have money for power looms. We still weave by hand, but it is not enough to survive. We earn only Rs 150 to 200 daily”. Traditional crafts are vanishing, pushed aside by industrial alternatives.
A senior journalist captures the loss: “The rhythm of life and serenity are gone. The skills of countless artisans who once dazzled the city are fading. Today, only anxieties, struggles, and noise remain”. Officials celebrate that service workers now benefit from tourism, revealing the vision: transform traditional artisans into hotel staff, replace master weavers with laundry workers, and convert a living cultural center into a consumption economy.
The Pattern of Destruction
The pattern is consistent: ambitious announcements, rapid demolitions, inadequate compensation, prolonged disruption. Projects announced in 2016 remain incomplete in 2025. Proposed developments follow the same template: destroying traditional Varanasi to create a tourist simulacrum.
Families denied permission to repair ancestral homes for decades due to heritage status saw those same structures completely demolished. Historical neighborhoods have been replaced by flyovers, malls, and apartment complexes. Scholars note: “rapid unchecked urbanisation is leading to loss of sense of place, identity and local culture and deterioration and destruction of urban heritage”.
Can Varanasi Survive Its Glorification?
The Prime Minister represents this constituency. Yet voices of temple custodians, artisans, displaced families, and shopkeepers remain unheard in the march toward a vision determined to erase the city it claims to restore. A displaced resident who preserved only phone pictures of his century-old house before demolition expressed resignation: “We tried very hard to save our properties, met government officials to negotiate, but we lost out”.
The numbers tell competing stories. Officials celebrate 11 crore tourists and projected revenue. Locals describe the death of rhythm, serenity, and artisan skills. The government promotes service jobs. Weavers describe the inability to survive. Authorities expand temple area to 500,000 sq ft by razing hundreds of temples and gullies. Banarasis abandon it to worship elsewhere, having lost spiritual connection.
When the last lane is widened, the last traditional shop demolished, the last artisan displaced, and the last neighborhood temple buried beneath infrastructure, will tourists still be drawn to Varanasi? Or will they discover that in converting culture into commerce and religion into revenue, in replacing organic devotion with packaged prasad and ticketed darshan, in destroying the syncretic soul that allowed diverse communities to co-create sacred geography for millennia, in uprooting 286 shivlings and demolishing hundreds of intimate temples to glorify one grand structure, we have killed the very essence that made Kashi eternal?
Acknowledgments & Sources
This investigation draws upon extensive reporting by NewsClick, The Indian Express, Counterview, Two Circles, Pragyata, The Wire, Deccan Herald, The Caravan, Economic Times, Times of India, and scholarly research. Special acknowledgment to Varanasi’s residents, shopkeepers, artisans, and activists who shared testimonies, often at personal risk. Their voices form this investigation’s core.
