Fig 1 Hampi: ruined temples in a rocky landscape
The thing I most wanted to see on my recent Indian trip was Hampi, a sprawl of half-ruined temples in the central Deccan plateau, about 300km east of Goa. I had never heard of it until the archaeologist George Michell gave a lecture to my SOAS class. Michell had an understandable fondness for Hampi, having first seen it in the 1960s when its decaying ruins were occupied by mystic yogis and pot-smoking backpackers. It was largely through his work that the site became a subject for serious archaeological research.
Hampi is commonly described as the former capital of a great Hindu empire that was destroyed by its neighbours, the five Muslim sultanates to the north (see map below). The 40 sq km city was the core of the Vijayanagara empire (founded in the 14th C) whose rulers filled it with temples and palaces. These were decimated after the Battle of Talikota (1565) when the five sultanates ganged up, invaded the place and beheaded the 80-year-old de facto ruler Rama Raya, after which the empire never recovered. This account sits comfortably with popular socio-political views in present-day India.
Fig 2 Vijayanagara Empire in 1520 (modern cities shown for reference). Source: globalsecurity.org
Except there is clearly a lot more to it. As you stagger up and down the rocky slopes from one temple to the next, it becomes clear that Hampi was based around a cluster of myths and legends re-interpreted by rulers who switched from one deity to another over a period of two centuries.
For a start, the site was never known as Hampi but as Vijayanagara – “City of Victory” – which gave the empire its name. It was founded in 1336 by two brothers from the Sangama clan, successful military commanders looking to build an empire. They settled by the village of Hampi whose name derived from the local river goddess Pampa. Pampa does not appear in ancient Hindu texts but the legend somehow spread that she had married the god Virupaksha (a form of Shiva). Virupaksha just happened to be the family deity of the Sangama clan, who clearly understood the power of mythology.
This fascination with mythology continues in the Ramachandra Temple (the “Hazara Rama”, Fig 3), built in the early 15th C by King Devaraya II. The Sangamas’ allegiance seems to have shifted to Vishnu by this time, but Devaraya went further and chose to worship him in the form of Rama, ninth avatar of Vishnu and hero of the ancient epic the Ramayana. No-one knows why he did this (there may already have been a local Rama cult) but like his ancestors, Devaraya understood the power of being associated with a religious legend.
Fig 3 Scenes from the Ramayana at the Ramachandra Temple (Hazara Rama)
This may be why Hampi is thick with references to the Ramayana. Images of the monkey god Hanuman, who helped Rama to rescue his abducted wife Sita, appear everywhere (Fig 4). Hampi was said to be the location of Kishkindha, the monkey kingdom in the legend. To underline this, various sites were named after key points in the story: Anjaneya Hill (where Hanuman was born), Malyavanta Hill (where Rama and his brother Lakshmana took refuge), Sugreeva’s Cave (where the monkey king Sugreeva found Sita’s jewellery which she had dropped as a clue) and Matanga Hill (home of the sage Matanga and the meeting-place of Rama, Hanuman and Sugreeva).
Fig 4 Carving of Hanuman with Rama and Lakshmana, on Hemakuta Hill
Fig 5 Modern-day monkeys on Hemakuta Hill
Archaeologists also believe that temples like the Ramachandra were aligned with these auspicious sites to ensure power and protection, e.g. Matanga Hill and Malyavanta Hill are both directly visible from the centre of the Ramachandra’s principal shrine (Fig 6).
Fig 6 Alignment of Ramachandra Temple with important Ramayana sites, by John Fritz.
Source: The Ramachandra Temple at Vijayanagara, ed. Anna Dallapiccola
Despite his fascination with Rama, Devaraya was careful not to forget Pampa, the site’s original goddess. The main shrine at the Ramachandra bears the inscription: “Devaraya too is blessed by Pampa”. This courtesy is absent from later monuments, for example the huge Narasimha statue built by King Krishna Devaraya of the later Tuluva dynasty in 1528 (Fig 7). The statue, now a major tourist attraction, originally comprised Narasimha and his consort Lakshmi. Only the man-lion remains now, Lakshmi having been pulverised by the sultanates' armies in 1565. Perhaps it was unwise to neglect Pampa.
Fig 7 Figure of Narasimha, man-lion avatar of Vishnu, 1528. H: 6.5m
Similarly, the gorgeous Vittala temple complex (mid-15th to mid-16th C) is an entirely Vaishnavite monument, known for its chariot-shaped Garuda shrine (Fig 8) and the ornately carved pillars of the main temple hall (Fig 9). By this time, the ruling Tuluva dynasty had quietly forgotten about Virupaksha and Pampa.
Fig 8 Garuda shrine, Vittala temple complex
Fig 9 Carved pillars, main hall, Vittala temple complex
So how did the Vijayanagara empire meet its end? The popular version of a Hindu empire destroyed by Muslim invaders does not give the full story. The remains of ancient mosques and Jain temples show that the city was tolerant of other faiths. Thousands of Turkish and Persian men were employed in the army. The influence of Muslim or “Persianate” culture is visible in the beautiful Lotus Mahal (Fig 10), with its lobed arches and ornate plaster work. The same Persianate flair is seen in the nearby Elephant Stables (Fig 11) with domes and pointed arches set in perfect symmetry.
Fig 10 Lotus Mahal royal pavillion, c. mid-15th C
Fig 11 Elephant stables, c. mid-15th C
North of the border, though, relations with the five Muslim sultanates were shaky, partly due to Vijayanagara’s periodic attempts to invade their territory. In 1543, Rama Raya (son-in-law of Krishna Devaraya) seized power from his nephew, the rightful heir. Rama Raya was a capable leader who maintained the empire’s position by playing off the sultanates against each other, knowing that no individual state had a bigger army than he did. But his growing sense of superiority (he once forced the Sultan of Ahmednagar to eat betel-nut from his hand as a form of humiliation) was his downfall. The sultanates eventually realised that their combined forces were a lot bigger than Rama Raya’s. So they invaded Vijayanagara and executed him, leaving behind a picturesque set of ruins to be enjoyed by tourists of all denominations.
Getting some perspective on Hampi required a lot of research, not least because the archaeological studies (brilliant though they are) are not closely tied to Vijayanagara’s socio-political history. On the latter, I found the work of Richard Eaton indispensable, especially his account of the life of Rama Raya.
There was also a lot of misleading tourist information to wade through. But most tourists, I suspect, are just glad to have seen Hampi without tumbling down one of its steep rocky slopes. My rather elderly tour group made it back in one piece, thanks be to Hanuman! (and Pampa)
References:
City of Victory: Vijayanagara (1991), John Fritz and George Michell
A Social History of the Deccan (2000), Richard Eaton
India in the Persianate Age 1000-1765 (2020), Richard Eaton
