Am I a Hindu, or am I a Hindu?

(Posted on Facebook on November 3, 2014, addressing a distant FB friend)

Dear Kaushik,

Since you made your last comment on my post a few days back (a very humorous article by Shovon Choudhury), I have been pondering about responding to you. I guess it is now an unavoidable imperative for me to articulate my position on matters that you have often rambled about, on some of my posts.

Kaushik, we do not know each other personally. It seems you are known to a schoolmate of mine, whom I have physically met only once (or was it twice?) in last 31 years. How you and I became friends on FB is another matter, and need not be discussed now. But, it is safely presumable that we do not know enough about each other.

In case you had followed my last post on Ben Affleck - Bill Maher - Sam Harris issue, then you would know that I would like to describe myself as someone who is irreligious, deeply spiritual and intensely liberal. But these are just labels. Allow me to give you a glimpse of my interest in matters that you talk of at times, especially religion and Hinduism.

As a young student in a school run by Ramakrishna Mission, I was exposed to Indian philosophies at an early age. That body of knowledge came under an academic topic titled “Indian Culture”, not as “Hindu Culture” or “Hinduism”. And that is not the only reason for my avoiding referring to the Indian body of work in philosophy and epistemology as Hinduism. It is also important at this point to note that religion, spirituality, philosophy and epistemology are all closely related but distinct topics, and I have a spot of interest in the ground that these cover between them.

Anyway, I believe, the seed that was sown more than 30 years back, took its shape in various manners within all of us who were so exposed. Alike the institution that is Ramakrishna Mission today, some of my friends have hardened their stance on their Hindu identity, some have stayed true to credo of “joto mot, toto poth”, i.e. “as many ways as creeds”, while some have strayed totally away from religious discourses, but stayed philosophical and at times spiritual. For me, it has taken a shape of a search (rather random though) – a search for meaning, for reason beyond apparent rationality and lastly for a well-lit path, if there is any. And this search has taken me reasonably extensively through various texts of Indian philosophy in last decade or more. While I had exposure to Vedanta and Upanishads, thanks to what we read in school (and that included very captivating and stimulating stories), I started reading up more in recent times. I obtained a reasonable sense of the structure of the six schools of Indian philosophy, namely Vedanta, Samkhya, Yoga, Nyaya, Vaisheshika and Mimamsa. I have not studied much about the two schools of syllogistic epistemology and cosmology, namely Nyaya and Vaisheshika, and the hermenuetics and exegesis based Mimamsa. Among the other three, which have more spirituality than the former three, I have studied Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra at length and few versions of it, and its lucid treatise “Raja Yoga”, by Swami Vivekananda. Between Vedanta (including Upanishads) and Yoga came Samkhya (which is a dualist but almost atheistic philosophy and enumerative epistemology). Although I have not yet been through the Samkhya Karika of Isvara Krishna or the commentaries of Gauda Pada, I have a decent insight of the Samkhya enumeration, thanks to a brilliant and detailed introduction in one of the most comprehensive treatise of Patanjali that I have come across. Also on my wish list is, Badarayan’s Brahma Sutra and Adi Sankara’s Bhasya of the same, because I want to deepen my understanding of Vedanta, when I can. I have also not covered the totally atheistic and materialistic philosophy called Charvaka, which was apparently contemporaneous with Buddhism and Jainism. I am a big fan of Adi Sankaracharya as a poet-spiritualist of monumental talent and spirit, and I am quite infamous in the family for quoting his brilliant Nirvana Shatakam or breaking into the Carnatic musical version of Bhaja Govindam (aka Moha Mudgar) at the drop of the proverbial hat. Lastly, I carry all the time in my bag, a very elegant (textually) version of Bhagavad Gita, which I think of as perhaps the best text of spiritual philosophy ever written.

Now, my dear stranger, the reason I wasted some precious time on a Sunday morning (that’s when I started writing this piece) in outlining my philosophical readings, is not to look like an immodest humbug (which I am surely looking like by now), but to let you know that in the multitude of Mumbai or for that matter, in urban India, I perhaps stand slightly on the right hand side of the normal curve, in terms of some understanding of Indian (aka Hindu) philosophy and epistemology. And, if you choose to call that Hinduism, I have absolutely no problem. Let me now enumerate my positions on various related topics:

1. My Indian (and perhaps Hindu) identity is not based on a vision of pantheistic, deistic, ritualistic, casteist and most importantly Islamophobe Hinduism
2. Pride is not my dominant behaviour, but push comes to shove, I am and would like to be a proud Indian, because of its ‘lasting’ achievements, namely:

a. The profound philosophies that India has contributed to the world and that I have mentioned above

b. The achievements Indians have attained in science, literature, art, sports, business etc. in the modern world

3. I am not proud of some imagined scientific achievements, which were mentioned in semi-fictional mythologies (extremely well written ones), which has no remnant in the present world, to lend any credibility to such imaginations. I respect Dwaipyana Vyas as an author and a spiritual giant for writing Mahabharata and Gita. And I respect him for his vivid imaginations, as much as I respect Jules Verne and Isaac Asimov for their own. But even science fiction, at the end of the day, is that only – fiction.

Now comes my position on Islam, Muslims and related matter. Firstly, an admission. My knowledge of Islam as a religion is not as strong as my knowledge and understanding of Hinduism. It is much lesser than my awareness of Buddhism and even lesser than Christianity as well. Interestingly, I find that this particular profile of awareness is shared by a large swathe of the educated urban upper middle class Hindus of the country. This, kind of reflects, how we have looked at Islam and Muslims, in spite of its and their presence in the country over a millennium. Having said that, and given my interest in these matters, I had taken some shots in reading up about the religion and its scriptures and structure of its philosophy and epistemology. I must admit that on the latter measure, I found it to be rather scant. In fact in that respect, all Abrahamic religions are rather low on epistemological content. Much of western thought today is a sum and product of Hellenic philosophy and Christian ethics. And Greeks were not Christians.

But Kaushik, I believe that your area of interest is not Islam as a religion, but how its followers behave; rather, how they have been behaving in last half a century, i.e. our life time, and how pseudo-seculars, or sickulars, like me, have pandered to that. On that, I have to state the following:

1. Wielding broad brushes about religion and political behaviour is fraught with extreme perils, biggest of which is being unfair to a vastly silent majority and of alienating communities
2. Having said that, I do believe that Islamic world and Arab world (not the same, although, there are linkages) are going through a serious crisis
3. I would also grant, to a limited extent, that prevalent Islamic theology has had mildly adverse to intensely devastating effect on certain societies, countries and geopolitics
4. If you follow my posts (which you seem to do), I do occasionally share related matters about which I am quite critical. Examples being my post on ISIS, or my post on Ben Affleck which I mentioned in this piece as well, and about Muslim PETA people being harassed for protesting against mass slaughters during Eid etc.
5. I do somewhat believe that Islam, as the newest of the major religions, has to travel a lot more and reform itself drastically.
6. But I do strongly opine that criticisms by complete outsiders like me, who have very little or no clue, either of the religion, or of the history or of the sociological underpinnings of the troubled regions, can achieve very little. All changes, in any entity, be it an individual, or society, or a body politic, can work, only if it is from within. Thus my critical posts on Islam or Islamic issues are not as prolific as on other matters. And for the same reason, I would like more discussion within Islamic societies in the world, which postures like Affleck’s, might stifle.
7. I do also believe that the minorities also have their responsibilities, like all citizens, to be unquestionably law abiding and to have appropriate expectations to be treated equally, and not extremely exceptionally. (N.B - Article 370 is not included in this, as that arises out of a political contract and is a separate matter of discussion.)
8. I am totally against any unfair and/or unlawful, explicit or implicit, mollycoddling or pandering to any interest group, including religious minorities. You would have missed my exasperation and condemnation, when Mamata Banerjee refused to meet Nancy Pelosy because some Muslim groups in Kolkata did not want her to meet Pelosy.
9. However, at the end of the day, in a civilised society or country, I believe that the onus is on the majority to assure the minority of its safety and equality. And this is not held true at times in many countries, including ours. And I resent that.

Kaushik, I will not go on forever, but would like to leave just two points:

1. My understanding of Hinduism or the Sanatana Indian Way, is different from yours or of those, whose flags you seem to be bearing now in a far country
2. And at the cost of immodesty, I would like to speculate, that my Indian or Hindu identity stands on far stronger foundation than yours to feel endangered so easily

Lastly, I won’t say that it is not personal. I am writing to you and as a response to your occasional comments. So you may certainly feel affronted. But I must add that this is also about many who share your views, and often spar with some of us, who stand on the very narrow ground in the middle. Thus it is rather a communiqué to a larger audience, and please try not feel very bad about it.

Best,

Culture of Bengal - violence?

The longest poll season in the largest working democracy came to an end and the nation heaved a sigh of relief. The tempo and temperature started coming down. One vocal and articulate leader from the potentially victorious party, paid a back handed tribute to the departing prime minister, some people unblocked some others on the Facebook and I came to watch a news channel after a month or so.

While I avoided all the cacophony and vitriolic debates that dominated these channels, I did not miss out the essential information regarding this very important national process, thanks to some selective reading of newspapers and few websites. And one thing disturbed me the most.

Over the long and antsy period of a month and five days of Lok Sabha election, there was only one state from where news of electoral violence flowed in continuously. Before the elections, the infamous riots happened in Muzaffarnagar. While everyone poltically discerning enough, knows that it was orchestrated clearly with the election in the view, it was not around the voting process and it had more the tag of a communal riot, than a political skirmish. A comparatively marginalised Bodo faction massacred Bangla speaking Muslims in Assam, which again was less about the Lok Sabha election than the age old ethnic and migrant strife peculiar to Assam. And then, after the polls were over, the tinderbox of Meerut had a few unfortunate sparks around a water tank. Lastly prennially sensitive Hyderabad witnessed a burnt religious flag and tragic loss of few lives this evening, two days after the voting has stopped.

But across all five phases of the longest election season ever, violence seemed to be the order of the day in my home state, West Bengal. Not the usual Bihar or Uttar Pradesh, but West Bengal. All varieties of it.  Intimidation, heckling, rigging, booth capture, mob attacks, group and finally on the last day a bomb was hurled in Posta, in the city of Kolkata and three lives lost elsewhere in the state. SHAME!!

The history of political violence in Bengal, perhaps goes back to an incident that did not take place in present day Bengal, but in a town which was part of what was the undivided large province of Bengal, and is now part of Bihar. On the evening of April 30, 1908, Khudiram Bose, along with his senior accomplice, Prafulla Chaki, hurled, what was probably the first bomb, during the violent independent struggle of India.  The seed of militant struggle for independence was sown that day and continued with the likes of the trio of Benoy, Badal and Dinesh, Surya Sen of the famous Chattagram Armoury raid, Bagha Jatin and the mysterious master of disguise, Rasbehari Bose. Now, that strife was against the colonial occupier of the land, the British oppressors. It was covered with patriotic glory, sacrifice and not small amount of romanticism.

Then came communism. Formed in the twenties, Marxist movement in India had strong foundational links to Bengal and the armed struggle for independence. M N Roy and Abani Mukherjee, two of the founders of Communist Party of India were from Bengal and were deeply involved in violent anti-British struggle. Post independence, first signs of people's movement emerged - both from the mills and the farmlands. Oppressed by the erstwhile colonial rulers, and then forgotten by the new rulers, capitalists and landowners of their own ilk, farmers and mill workers sought their redemption in the ideology of Karl Marx, which always had an association with violence. In 1967, in a village of North Bengal named Naxalbari, police fired on a posse of protesting tribal farmers. The movement had the backing of a breakway faction of the CPI(M), which itself was a splinter of erstwhile undivided Communist Party of India (CPI). CPIM, or CPM, was very strong in West Bengal and had already replaced CPI in the region. Led by Charu Majumdar and Kanu Sanyal, this movement soon captivated the minds of the educated youth and spread as a violent ideological struggle all. Naxalbari movement thus became post independent India’s first armed insurgency, having wide presence in Bengal. The provincial Government also retaliated with its might and human rights were soon relegated to oblivion. Violence engulfed West Bengal in the late sixties and early seventies.

Meanwhile, as a continuation of the pre independence scenario, mainstream communists continued to be persecuted, although by now they had entered the parliamentary process. The engagement between communists and the government and other parties remained very acrimonious and physical violence became a tool to settle disputes and territorial issues. In 1970, came one of the darkest days in the political history of Bengal, a blot which has still not faded totally and has been exhumed recently. In the communist dominated agrarian town of Bardhaman, a family of Congress sympathizers was slaughtered by a large number of cadres of CPM, in the middle of the night. The gruesome details of the massacre ringed all across the state. But it also became the lingua franca of Bengal politics.

In 1977, the Marxists came to power, and stayed there for over three decades.  Soon violence and intimidation became the standard implement of the ruling forces. Equipped with the well oiled and widely spread cadre network, CPM and its allies, took control of all aspects of the province. The separation between party and administration were totally obliterated and the party became arbiter of all disputes and conflicts – political, social and even familial. Economic situation deteriorated, gradually but in a sure and secular trend.  This translated into despair and soon anger became the prevalent emotion in both private and public discourse, and in group or bilateral engagement. A minor vehicular incident involving a private car and a lesser vehicle or a pedestrian on any street of Kolkata, would invariably degenerate into a mass outrage against the private vehicle as it epitomized prosperity.  Battles between neighborhood soccer teams would see swords being pulled out and blood being spilled and even lost lives. This is still the urban or the semi urban story. In the villages and small towns, total reigns of terror loomed large. Hooligans, backed by political patronage, aggrandized economic benefits, intimidated communities, violated women at large and killed at will. While the leaders at the top looked away, these elements delivered election after election, and this went on, as if never to cease.

In 2011, after decades of strife, Mamata Banerjee and her party finally broke down the left hegemony and came to power amidst slogan and hopes of change, “poriborton”.  Some people who had ears to the ground, had already foreseen this. As they say, when a ship sinks, it’s the rats who abandon it the earliest. Similarly, people who are cognizant of grassroot politics and polity of Bengal, witnessed the changing colours of the lumpen elements, on whose misdeeds rode the CPM juggernaut.  By the time the new government formed, the new party in power, which was anyway very akin in ideology (if it had any) and style to the one they conquered, acquired all these elements.  For a while, the Trinamool leader talked of how there will be no violence or vengeance. But a violent culture which has evolved and emerged over almost half a century is not easy to be done away with, especially if the leadership is not sincere about eradicating it altogether.  Thus sporadic violence continued and showed its ugly face during the Lok Sabha elections. In the backdrop of the longest and perhaps one of the most peaceful parliamentary elections, West Bengal stood out like the proverbial sore thumb with its wide spread incidents of violence.

But it is gone now. On the aftermath of it, lie a centrally decimated Congress, an almost extinct CPM and regionally supreme Trinamool. The leadership of each of these parties has to introspect and act, if they sincerely wish to completely exterminate the language and use of violence and redeem some esteem for the state.  The central leadership should ponder if it is worth maintaining a base, simply based on one strongman, Adhir Choudhury, whose past and present is marked with use of force.  CPM, if at all they would like to remain relevant, should first repent and regret the total subversion of the state machinery and institutions that they did, and did it with force and violence, and make public and corrective actions. And finally the victor should publicly condemn all use of force, bring all perpetrators, including from its own ranks to justice and spread a language which is civil and rational and not angry, rabble rousing, uncouth and inciting.