Blade Hype

The Maharashtra government has trumpeted the acquisition of 18th C. Maratha leader Raghuji Bhosale’s sword from a London auction house as a “historic victory.” Cultural Affairs Minister Ashish Shelar flew to Britain to collect the artefact, which will arrive in Mumbai on August 18 under police escort and motorcycle convoy, culminating in a public celebration at a cultural academy. A similar swell of fanfare had attended the government’s earlier retrieval (on loan) of a wagh nakh (tiger claw) from the Victoria and Albert Museum, supposedly used by Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj to kill Afzal Khan.

Both episodes have been dressed up as moments of political and cultural triumph. The rhetoric is thick with the language of victory, honour and “bringing home” lost treasures. Yet there is less here for the state to pat itself on the back about than the breathless tone suggests. The sword was not secured through some deft diplomatic manoeuvre or a concession from a reluctant foreign power. It was purchased at an open auction in Britain, just as any wealthy collector or institution could have done. The wagh nakh, too, was not really ‘reclaimed’; it remains the property of the V&A and is in India only on a fixed-term loan. Diplomatic repatriations of cultural heritage, whether India’s retrieval of the Koh-i-Noor were it ever to occur, or Greece’s campaign for the Elgin Marbles, are hard-fought and symbolically charged affairs requiring years of negotiation. Winning an auction is essentially a commercial transaction. The notion that Maharashtra’s ministers achieved some great diplomatic breakthrough is overblown.

As for the wagh nakh, even the V&A had admitted that it was not possible to verify that the claws on display are the very ones used by Shivaji Maharaj in one his most famous exploits. Accounts suggest multiple tiger claws were associated with the episode, and at least three other sets in Satara have laid similar claims. The history of such acquisitions in India is littered with instances where artefacts, once triumphantly unveiled, are relegated to poorly lit display cases or locked storage rooms. If these treasures are to have meaning beyond a week’s headlines, they require more than ceremonial receptions. Proper conservation, detailed historical interpretation and serious public engagement are needed. Without such efforts, they risk becoming props in a passing political spectacle.

This is especially important given Maharashtra’s habit of conflating cultural heritage with political theatre. Raghuji Bhosale’s campaigns in Bengal, Odisha and southern India were significant military achievements, and his Firangi sword is a rare and exquisite example of cross-cultural craftsmanship in the 18th century. But heritage is not well served by bombast. Cultural treasures gain their true value not from the manner in which they are acquired, but from how they are cared for, interpreted and made relevant to the present. Maharashtra’s leaders have been quick to celebrate their role in securing these objects. The harder task is to ensure they serve as living links to history rather than trophies gathering dust.