It was also salutary to witness how outsiders viewed the cosy little world we, as devotees, had created around ourselves - especially as ISKCON had seen its specific objective as creating a microcosm based on a philosophy, with related practices, which are foreign, in all senses of the word, to the non-devotee of Middle England. Sometimes, ignorance or prejudice colour the outsider's presentation of the world of ISKCON; sometimes it arises from the devotees' own portrayal of their beliefs and lifestyle; and, sometimes, ISKCON really does daft things and we just don't see it.

In reading Sebastian Poulter's study of the Manor Campaign (as we affectionately called it), I am confronted with an academic's viewpoint of a history I lived and breathed for over ten years. There is no doubt that Poulter is knowledgeable, sympathetic to ethnic matters and trying hard to understand the issue. Yet, I am not convinced he does full credit to the aspirations of his thesis.

The purpose of including the Manor study is to illustrate a broader theme of how far English law is able to cope with the specific needs of its ethnic minority communities. It was not my brief to read the whole book and neither am I qualified to comment on Poulter's analysis of the general legal issues that comprise Part I of the book. Part II - 'Case Studies in Relation to Particular Groups' - contains useful examples of many ethnic communities' struggles to have their customs and practices accepted within the framework created for British society by the various governmental authorities. There are the examples of Jews and Sunday trading laws, the right of gypsies to a nomadic lifestyle, Sikhs and crash helmets, the demand for a separate system of personal law by Muslims, and others.

As Poulter points out in the background to his chapter on Hindu matters, Hindu practices are not openly visible to the wider public, nor are its beliefs easily articulated or understood. (I remember a dreadful explanation I tried to give to an enquiry by John Humphries about whether Hindus believed there was one God or many. Fortunately, he wasn't in rottweiler mode and it was an off-air conversation). Even those issues that the English find so abhorrent, such as caste and sati, are inconspicuous in the UK. However, the one thing that Hindus are seen to do, and which gets them embroiled in trouble throughout the UK, is going to temples and celebrating big festivals. Some local councils have been exemplary in accommodating the Hindu community in their area, but many others have made gestures of concern while maintaining a covert policy to contain the community's aspirations for places of worship and social facilities. The provision of temple facilities has certainly been the main legal problem faced by the Hindu community in the UK.

The case of Bhaktivedanta Manor was by far the longest running and highest profile of all the temple problems and it deserves its place in Poulter's book. It was the biggest for two reasons. One is that we made it so. The other is that Bhaktivedanta Manor is and has always been a unique facility within the consciousness of British Hindus. Poulter captures this in his description of how the standards of worship and the committed lifestyle of the devotees proved especially attractive to Hindus newly arrived in the UK. I was a member of the executive committee of the National Council of Hindu Temples in the UK from 1980 to 1995. We regularly discussed planning problems for both existing and proposed temples. There was genuine outrage at any attempt to curtail the worship at the Manor and many saw it as a test case for Hinduism in Britain, fearing that if the Manor was not successful other temples might also come under threat.

There are various subthemes that arise in Poulter's background notes which warrant further and deeper exploration. One of my favourites is how Hinduism has evolved since its arrival in the UK and the role that ISKCON has played in this. Since his intention is to concentrate on the legal wrangling, Sebastian Poulter mentions this only in passing. However, I had always felt that such matters were crucial to the Manor case because the authorities at local or national level needed to be aware of the changing nature of Hinduism and its evolving needs. Hertsmere Borough Council (HBC), the Manor's local government authority, engaged an academic to advise it on Hinduism and the public inquiry inspectors liked to be able to rely on the evidence of such scholars - more so than on the testimony of the adherents themselves. This caused ISKCON difficulties on occasion. One example is revealed in Poulter's description of the role of the temple in Hinduism: 'Visits to the temple (mandir) are peripheral rather than central to the practice of Hinduism and indeed in early Hindu scriptures and epic works there is no mention of temples.' Imagine how a hostile adjudicator would pounce on that tit-bit of authoritative wisdom.

Whatever the ancient history, Hindus in Britain today rely on both home and temple. In India, temples exist as shrines mainly for regular or occasional pilgrimage. In Britain, the temple is an oasis of Hindu life amidst a less favourable environment and has, therefore, become the centre for community's religious observance, cultural expression and social scene - all vital to the preservation of a religion that is holistic by nature. Whereas temple worship in India often seems an individualistic activity, British Hindus tend to gather at temples for congregational worship during the arati ceremonies. This has some precedent in India, particularly in the Gaudiya Vaisnava tradition, of which ISKCON is part. There may also be an inadvertent synchronisation with Christian forms of worship as Hindus in Britain learn to adjust the pattern of their observances from the lunar-based Hindu calendar to the strict weekly cycle of Western life. If you are running a small business there is often only Sunday evening available for temple visits.

However, I would have delighted in calling Mr Poulter as our first witness at the public inquiry to hear him define 'matha' as a theological college. We too used this definition, when in1973 the Manor was granted permission (under Section 53 of the Planning Act) to be a theological college in connection with the religion of Krsna Consciousness. At that time we requested it be allowed to function as a matha and not be judged in terms of a Christian theological college, which is an entirely different entity. I still regard this as an arguable contention. However, I believe it serves Poulter's theme by illustrating the difficulty English law faces in handling the language, institutions and customs of newly arrived ethnic groups.

Unfortunately, it appears that Poulter does not wish to enter into such analysis, preferring instead to précis the legal procedures, debates and decisions. His summary is undoubtedly important, as it documents Britain's legal framework processing a complex ethnic issue. Despite my opening reservations about reporting accuracy, I have little complaint about what Poulter actually writes, but his omission of the simultaneous political and social history of the Manor Campaign leaves us with an incomplete and distorted vision. It thus fails to reveal the most useful lessons of the whole episode. No historian would try to reconstruct the full picture of the past solely from legal documents. Sebastian Poulter is not a historian, he is a reader of law, but his subject here is the law in action; and the law, particularly in the field of planning and especially in relation to ethnic issues, does not operate in a vacuum, cut off from other human concerns and motivations.

I decided to establish whether his other reports adhered so tightly to the legal machinations, and found they did not. In the section on Sikhs being excluded from wearing helmets, Poulter includes personal case studies, campaign efforts and political developments. Although it is true that the case involved an amendment to an Act of Parliament, those who were privy to the behind-the-scenes shenanigans of the Manor case can attest that the whole case was a homogenous blend of politics, NIMBYism, human rights, social action and legal squabbling.

Many of the legal arguments put forward by ISKCON in the many local public inquiries, court appeals and to the European Commission of Human Rights had questionable merit and were easily dismissed. If anything, that demonstrated our struggle to hang our hat on any legal hook. At no point in the domestic hearings did we feel we were able to address the religious issues adequately. This is the real failing of English law. In the USA, the matter would never have been contested. Zoning laws there are often as onerous as the English ones, but they cannot override the constitutional protection of freedom of religion.

Only in our appeal to the European Commission were we allowed to raise rights of religious practice as a matter of consideration. Even then, we knew we were on shaky ground with some of our contentions because of the discretion that is afforded to member states in applying their own laws, particularly planning decisions. The Commission found by a majority decision that our appeals were 'manifestly unfounded', which is a term-of-art used by the Commission for any appeal it rejects. This expression is an example of the black-and-white nature of legal decisions in a confrontational system. There is no room for 'maybes'.

Ultimately, as Poulter explains, each planning inquiry boiled down to weighing two contrary planning considerations, need and damage, against each another. Did the needs of the Hindu community of Britain to worship at Bhaktivedanta Manor outweigh the material damage to the locality as ascertained by consideration of the objectives of planning (particularly Green Belt) policies? The inspector in the first inquiry concluded they did not and pressed for the closure of the Manor within six months. He came to the same judgement, of damage outweighing need, in the appeal for the new temple at Elstree (on a site chosen and negotiated for, and on behalf of, ISKCON by Hertsmere Council). The Secretary of State concurred on both counts, but extended the compliance period for ending public worship at the Manor to two years. The government press release on the day of the decision was a masterpiece of spin doctoring. In effect, it said that with these decisions, the Hindu community had a wonderful opportunity to create an even better temple for themselves somewhere else.

However, when ISKCON presented a revised case for worship at the Manor based on the creation of a new road access by-passing local residences, the inspector and the Secretary of State now weighed the Hindus' needs as greater than the damage to others' interests and the effect on the Green Belt. I would have liked Poulter to delve into this volte-face and juxtapose the contrary statements in the government's decision letters of 1990 and 1996. If he had, perhaps his conclusions would have been different.

However, Poulter's rather simplistic view of the resolution of the Manor case leads him to this conclusion: 'In the end, the planning legal system proved capable of settling the dispute through the flexible application of its ordinary planning principles, without any need for a specific provision designed for the exclusive benefit of ISKCON or Hindus.' The big question for me on reviewing this chapter is, 'Do I agree with this statement?' The answer is a big 'maybe'. Yes, the Manor situation was resolved within the existing legal framework. But, no, it was not on the basis of specific consideration of religious needs. If anything, the case highlights the arbitrary and discretionary nature of English planning law (which is not news to anyone who has had to confront the system - even for a porch extension). This is my biggest problem with the chapter. Poulter appears to record the legal processes as if they operated like coldly objective computer calculations. At no point does he note any personal consideration or subjectivity on the part of the adjudicators. The inspectors at the 1988-9 and the 1994-5 enquiries were as different as chalk and cheese. We knew before he even sat down at the inquiry that we should petition to have the first inspector removed. In his mind, we were clearly wrong and had to go. In contrast, the Secretary of State's replacement inspector in 1994 was a much warmer personality with an even-minded disposition.

Although the inspectors had a duty to record and dissect the legal arguments, planning law is distinguished from other legal judgements in that a politician, the Secretary of State for the Environment, makes the final decision. Politicians do not have the objective status of judges and cannot fully divorce themselves from related political considerations. We had our connections in the corridors of power and were well aware of what concerns the politicians were balancing - and it was not the legal arguments. The then Conservative government had no intention of disappointing the Home Counties voter, but still hoped to salvage some credibility among Hindus who had always been natural Tory supporters. They were also keeping an eye on the ongoing Manor Campaign and, especially, its transformation into the Defence Movement.

One government advisor on ethnic matters told me that in 1990 he was asked by the Department of the Environment whether the Hindus would riot if a negative decision on the Manor was released. The answer was, 'No, Muslims might, but not the Hindus.' Chris Patten went ahead with the decision. Sure enough, there were no serious demonstrations at that time - much to the shame of many Manor devotees. I always felt it unfair that the Hindu community's needs were mostly neglected by the government. Hindus saw mosques popping up everywhere, but they couldn't get permission for temples. There was not just disparity between the ethnic and the majority religions; it existed in the treatment of individual ethnic groups. At one point, I petitioned the Archbishop of Canterbury that the needs of a community that played the game and acted impeccably should be given prime consideration as an encouragement towards better social behaviour. That message was unheeded during the life of the Campaign, and the Hindu community turned to Gandhi-style civil disobedience. The biggest events in the Campaign calendar came in 1994 - the first on 16 March, the day the enforcement notice to close the Manor for public worship took effect. Thirty-six thousand Hindus marched through London and held a short sit-down on the road outside Westminster. I have never seen the Hindu community so jubilant as on that day - they had acted as one community and were proud of having stood up for themselves. They had such fun that two months later ten thousand of them repeated the protest with a prolonged sit-down that stopped all traffic in front of Westminster for ninety minutes.

While the Campaign was heating up, ISKCON was appearing more conciliatory, with a proposal for a compromise solution that was easily appreciated by anyone with a mind for resolving the conflict. This was a stick-and-carrot approach to the politicians. Frankly, the recital of legal arguments for worship at the Manor on the basis of new access was a charade, necessary only to assist the politicians in justifying the grant of permission - if they so desired. Another government advisor informed me how in 1996 the Secretary of State showed him two decision letters on the Manor case - one approving and the other dismissing the appeal. The advisor was asked which of them should be handed down.

Sebastian Poulter calls it 'flexible application', but planning decisions are largely discretionary, arbitrary and prone to political considerations. The Manor case does not demonstrate that the English planning laws enshrine religious considerations, but they are malleable enough to allow the authorities scope to make any decision that suits them. All that is required is one sentence: 'I have considered the religious and cultural needs of such-and-such a community and I attach very great importance to them and I conclude that they do/do not* (*delete as applicable) outweigh the needs of whoever and the relevant planning policies.'

The voting at HBC meetings had always been strictly along party lines (except for one Tory councillor who confided that he was voting for the temple because he could not support the racism of his own group). The timing of the release of the final decision to approve the new access road for the Manor was significant. The week before, Hertsmere had been lost from Conservative control to Labour, the latter having always pledged to approve the Manor application. It was subsequently announced on local television that representatives of the Manor and the Labour group were to meet. That afternoon, the government stole Labour's thunder by faxing through their green-light decision.

In presenting the legal history of the Manor case, Sebastian Poulter has told the truth, and practically nothing but the truth. But, the whole truth? That is much more revealing - and is yet to be told.

Akhandadhi Dasa