Archaeological Survey of India Faces Credibility Crisis Amid Political Controversies

The Archaeological Survey of India (ASI), tasked with preserving the nation’s rich historical heritage, finds itself embroiled in a deepening credibility crisis that extends beyond typical bureaucratic inefficiencies. At its core, the controversy raises serious questions about the integrity of archaeological practices and the institution’s vulnerability to political agendas.

A recent case highlighting these concerns involves archaeologist K. Amarnath Ramakrishna and the Keeladi excavation in Tamil Nadu. Beginning in 2014 under Ramakrishna’s leadership, the Keeladi project initially revealed groundbreaking findings: evidence of a sophisticated, literate urban society predating current understanding of the Indus Valley Civilization, potentially bridging crucial historical gaps between the Iron Age and Early Historic Period.

The project took an unexpected turn in 2017 when Ramakrishna was suddenly transferred to Assam. According to scholars Swarati Sabhapandit and C.P. Rajendran, this transfer was widely interpreted as an attempt to undermine the significance of a South Indian archaeological site that challenged the historical primacy traditionally attributed to North India.

Following Ramakrishna’s transfer, the ASI made the controversial claim that Keeladi held no significant findings and halted the excavation’s third phase. This decision prompted the Madras High Court to intervene, ultimately transferring oversight of the site to the Tamil Nadu State Department of Archaeology. The state department has since uncovered thousands of additional artifacts, further validating the site’s historical importance and casting doubt on the ASI’s earlier dismissal.

Even after Ramakrishna returned to Tamil Nadu in 2021 and submitted his report on the initial excavation phases, the ASI requested revisions—a move critics argue was designed to minimize the significance of the findings. “This episode underscores the politics in archaeological practice and reflects a credibility crisis facing the ASI,” Sabhapandit and Rajendran noted in their analysis.

While the Union government maintains that new historical narratives require broader validation beyond a single set of findings—a reasonable scientific principle—the ASI’s actions reveal troubling inconsistencies. Similar patterns of neglect emerged with the Adichanallur and Sivagalai sites in Tamil Nadu, where years passed before the ASI published findings on Iron Age artifacts, and only after court intervention.

The contrast becomes even more striking when examining the ASI’s approach to excavations in Rajasthan. There, the discovery of an ancient paleochannel was quickly linked to the mythical Saraswati River mentioned in the Rig Veda, with reports even claiming connections to the “Mahabharata period.” This apparent embrace of mytho-historical narratives aligns with certain political agendas but contradicts principles of scientific scholarship.

The ASI’s selective application of scientific rigor represents what experts describe as a “trap of methodological nationalism,” prioritizing state-sanctioned historical narratives over objective research.

Ironically, several scholars have presented compelling evidence for southern origins of Indian civilization. Clarence Maloney’s “The Beginnings of Civilization in South India” challenges the northwest-centric narrative, suggesting early urban centers with advanced social structures emerged independently in coastal Tamil Nadu. Similarly, R. Balakrishnan’s 2019 book “Journey of a Civilization: Indus to Vaigai” proposes a Dravidian foundation for the Indus Valley Civilization, drawing on linguistic, archaeological, and literary evidence to suggest connections between Indus people and ancient Tamil traditions.

The Keeladi findings appear to support these alternative historical frameworks, raising questions about why the ASI seems reluctant to engage with evidence that could expand our understanding of India’s complex past.

The problems facing the ASI extend beyond individual controversies. The institution’s closed internal review system and reluctance to publish findings in academic journals hinder transparency and accountability. Unlike archaeological institutions in countries like Germany, France, and Japan that regularly submit their research to international scrutiny, the ASI has adopted what critics call a retrograde approach to sharing discoveries.

These structural issues aren’t new. For decades, scholars have highlighted concerns including arbitrary transfers, inadequate infrastructure, and outdated methodologies that impede comprehensive historical interpretation. The controversy surrounding the Ayodhya excavation project two decades ago similarly raised questions about scientific integrity in politically sensitive contexts.

To restore its legitimacy, the ASI requires comprehensive reforms, including greater financial autonomy and commitment to rigorous scientific frameworks that embrace India’s pluralistic historical past rather than enforcing politically expedient narratives. The institution would better serve India’s international standing through globally respected archaeological work rather than findings seemingly tailored to political considerations.