“RANI” BY JAISHREE MISRA
PUBLISHER: PENGUIN, 2007
PRICE: RS 350.00
“Rani” the fictionalized biography of the Rani of Jhansi, is the brilliant handiwork of the London-based Jaishree Misra, whose grasp of both history and fiction is admirable. For a writer who hated history as a child, one is happily surprised to see the balanced weaving of fact with fiction in a subtly crafted yet unobtrusive manner by the passionately involved biographer Jaishree Misra. The queen warrior Manikarnica, later to be known as Lakshmibai, the Rani of Jhansi, was no ordinary teenager, as destiny’s child, she is shown to be a remarkably strong woman with human desires. The book can provide excellent source-material for a historical epic film on the queen’s life.
As a little girl Manikarnica suddenly finds herself the chosen bride of a much older widower, Raja Gangadhar of Jhansi, but spirited and adventurous that she is by nature, she gives her assent for the union, curious and delighted that she would soon be a queen. The marital bed of roses is only in her imagination as she goes from setback to setback, picking up the pieces that come her way. The book’s sensitive portrayal of the protagonist, makes the book absolutely un-put-down-able. Her childishness gives way to pragmatic wisdom; her intelligence and trust-worthiness makes her husband give her place by his side, and soon hand over the reins of the kingdom to her. From dealing for years with an unconsummated marriage to dealing with the death of her only three month old child, the Rani goes from sorrow to sorrow with pride, resolve and tears shed in private. When she has lemons she quickly makes a lemonade, that is the Rani; she spends little time in self-pity and turns her attention on things within her control and away from those out of her control, the winner in her will die but not whine.
The parallel account of the Englishman, Robert Ellis, runs through the book and one waits with bated breath for the two to come together; there is so much they can offer one another and yet two distinct cultures, colors and countries invisibly stand between them leaving their union unconsummated as well. Finally Robert catches a glimpse of the queen he has been talking to through purdah; it is only page 207 of the 411 page book, that Robert sees the beautiful queen for the first time, and ironically she is exposed to him on the day her husband is being cremated. One wishes that Ms Misra had spent more time on the fictionalized love-story given her lyrical and romantic streak; one also misses the wisdom and companionship the king and queen shared, which could have been added through their dialogue. The queen loves two men, one out of dutiful respect and another with her soul; however, being a strong woman, she resolutely deals with both of them with strength and goes through her adversities with courage. She turns her attention to power and statecraft becomes the de facto ruler of Jhansi. .
The book has an interesting map to present the geographical layout of the region from 1835; but while the queen’s childhood is in Varanasi, the town is conspicuous by its absence on the map; also, Ms Misra’s inability to deal with adverbs has slipped past Penguin editors and it was jarring to find “grovellingly”, “confusingly” “enquiringly” “frustratingly””pacifyingly” ‘frenziedly” etc all over the book. Since the excellent book will surely go into re-print, I hope Penguin drops these awkward expressions and also adds in the missing page no 239.
As an adept writer, Ms Jaishree Misra has, with intelligence and subtlety, depicted the clash between the humanist (to offer shelter to the families of the British who had wronged Jhansi ) at odds with the political leader, both warring in the queeen’s personality until she lets go of one. “She felt the need to sit down as waves of fatigue washed all over her. How many people should she fight in this wretched matter? People whom she loved and trusted…Angry confused thoughts coursed through her head… if it were indeed true that the welfare of the British lay at variance to those of her own people, then did she really have a choice at all? After a long pause, Lakshmibai whispered, her eyes dark against a pale face, “Very well then. It is not for me to go against the wishes of my people…feeling wretched to the pit of her stomach, Lakshmibai retraced her steps…”
It is said that life is a comedy for one who thinks and a tragedy for one who feels; Lakshmibai, the Rani of Jhansi, had time for neither; she faced life in a pragmatic, principled manner, leaving little room for laughter or tears. As a karmayogi par excellence, here is a woman of substance, a woman of destiny. She did India proud, as has Jaishree Misra, sitting in far off London, yet capturing the beat of an Indian woman’s heart better than many on our soil.
Take a bow, Ms Misra, somebody is clapping.
Saturday, March 01, 2008
WITHOUT FEAR—THE LIFE AND TRIAL OF BHAGAT SINGH
AUTHOR: KULDIP NAYAR
Price; Rs 395
PUBLISHED BY HARPER COLLINS INDIA, NEW DELHI
After reading Nayar’s “Without Fear” I was numbed; my mind kept re-playing the scene in which a patriotic 23 year’s last gesture before departing from this world was to kiss the hangman’s noose, readily accepting it around his neck only so that India might be free and more quitable. Looking at today’s 23 year olds around me, I see hedonists to the hilt, willing to kill for an out-of-reach lifestyle, obsessed with the latest 3G mobile, latest car, you name it. Advertisements consistently mock the simple way of life, stressing that simplicity is stupidity, girls grimacing if a young man still uses an old mobile, or doesn’t understand their silly innuendos, but hey, life gives you a second chance, so buy this new mobile, you tubelight, remember the “men are back!” Somebody who doesn’t belong to this yuppie set earns the smiling contempt of a super-star, “don’t be santoosht--thora aur wish karo”. Selfishness is in, wishing for the rest who struggle below the poverty line (Who ARE these villagers, man?) is just so uncool. A wish list for people still without education, roti kapda aur makan, electricity, two square meals a day, is that for real?
It was for these “benefits” for the poor that Bhagat Singh gave up his life 77 years ago, on March 23, 1931. His wish list would have been long and formidable, but selfish it was certainly not. It makes one weep to realise that even after 77 years we have not been able to honour Bhagat Singh’s wishes and bring about a more equitable society in India. Sadly, in many ways his sacrifice for India was in vain, if this is what free India is all about today.
Kuldip Nayar’s account of Bhagat Singh is a loving portrait of a young man fired by nationalistic fervour, by an idealism that brooked no hypocricy, that suffered no fools, that saw Gandhi’s pacifism as inept. He believed that a strong statement, acts of strength and not ahimsa, needed to be committed for the British to quicken their complete exit from India. The voracious reader in Bhagat Singh was fond of the words of Auguste Valliante, the French anarchist, “It takes a loud voice to make the deaf hear.” He wanted on the one hand, to awaken the youth of India and on the other, the British empire’s masquerade of being a “fair and just” administration, to be exposed to the world’s watching eyes.
Nayar’s brilliant depiction of the chain of events that led to the martyrdom of the three revolutionaries, Sukhdev, Rajguru and Bhagat Singh, makes the book an absolute must-read. Each of the 11 chapters has no heading but commences with an excellent well-chosen Urdu couplet that sums up the mind-set of the idealistic revolutionary that was Bhagat Singh: “Usey yeh fikr hai hardam naya tarz-e-jfa kya hai, hamen yeh shauq hai dekhen sitam ki intiha ky hai, ” Nayar’s penchant for couplets ends with the last one that decorates the epilogue, “Bhagat Singh ke khoon ka asar dekh lena Mitadege zaalim ka ghar dekh lena!”
Tracing the growth of a revolutionary, Nayar shows us how in 1919, the child brought up in a patriotic family, managed to slip through the heavy police security and visited the site on which 20,000 Indians were trapped and killed by the British. “Somehow managing to push through the sentries on guard, he had barged into the garden and collected a jar full of mud, wet with the blood of Indians. When he finally returned home, the twelve year old was asked by his younger sister,” Where were you all this time? Mother has been waiting to give you something to eat.” But Bhagat Singh was no thinking of food. Showing her the jar he said, “Look at this. This is the blood of our people killed by the British. Salute it. “ Then he put the jar in a niche and worshipped it with flowers.” By the time Lala Lajpat Rai was mercilessly beaten to death in 1928, Bhagat Singh was a prolific reader of serious non-fiction, and had shaped into an extraordinarily brilliant and well-informed young man. He resolved that Lajpat Rai’s death had to be avenged; his approach is contrasted with a mild statement from Gandhi who remarked, “What I would like the workers to draw from this incident is not to be depressed or taken aback by assault, but to treat it as part of the game.”
In fact, it is the apposition of the two ideologies, Bhagat and Gandhi’s, that really makes one wonder: what if the British had still been rich, would they have left merely on the basis of satyagrapha? Satyagraha can hardly work with the Osama Bin Ladens of this world and for India, British rule was even more devastating and illegitimate than the destruction of the twin towers on 9/11. Does Gandhigiri have answers for Osama? Sadly, no. Bhagat Singh could see as much and realised that the plight of Indians would remain the same if they allowed themselves to be subjected to the ineffectiveness of pacifism.
Mercenaries to the core, the British saw the bottom-line and what they say wasn’t appetizing. India was no longer the cash-cow they could bank on and the nuisance caused by Lajpat Rai, Tilak, Bhagat Singh, and their ilk, played a much larger role in their decision to leave India than has so far been credited to these great men.
It was the systematic attempts to undermine British administration that played their part to enhance Gandhi’s non-cooperation movement and give it that “fear factor” that any movement against violent and undemocratic forces always necessitates. Forceful statements are essential, so much even Arjuna was advised in the Gita. More than Gandhi who was guided by the Gita, it was the atheist Bhagat Singh who really followed Krishna’s words and let his life deliver His message.
The book traces the various brain-storming sessions the young men had before deciding to make their statement; it touches upon the mysterious connection between a married woman, Durga Devi, a fellow revolutionary, and himself, and their two days spent together; it depicts how Saunders instead of Scott was killed due to mistaken identity; how Motilal Nehru often funded them while they were in hiding.
However, the book lacks photographs which would have made the subject come alive. A table of contents at the beginning would have made the book complete. Apart from typos found at various places, the book also suffers when Nayar attempts to differentiate between a “terrorist” and a “revolutionary’ in the Preface. It is in the Annexures that the book really comes alive, Bhagat Singh’s treatises “The Philosophy of the Bomb” and “Why I am an Atheist” are exceptional inclusions that make Bhagat Singh spring alive from the pages of the book. Bhagat Singh’s intellectual honesty is rare, who else but Bhagat Singh could write,
“ I am going to sacrifice my life for a cause. What more consolation can there be? I know that it will be the end when the rope is tightened around my neck and the rafter moved from under my feet. To use more precise religious terminology,--it will be moment of utter annihilation. My soul will come to nothing. With no selfish motive or desire to be awarded here or hereafter, quite disinterestedly, have I devoted my life to the cause of independence, because I could not do otherwise.”
An absolute gem of a book about Bhagat Singh, a gem of a man.
BOOK REVIEW
by Lata Jagtiani
THE CLASH OF INTOLERANCES
BY RAHIM JAHANBEGLOO
PUBLISHED BY HAR-ANAND PUBLICATIONS PVT LTD.
PRICE: RS 295
Once, in the early 1980s, as a lecturer at an Indian school in Dubai, I saw, within our school premises, a five-foot statue of Mahatma Gandhi installed in the playground. A few days later, however, the statue disappeared. I re-discovered it tucked away in a corner, hiding furtively in darkness in the school-library, heavily draped with sheets. Gandhiji was in a hijab because a government directive prohibited statues. So, one could not even have one within the Indian school premises? I suggested to the Principal that we put across our point to the authorities and convince them to allow us our Indian way of life within the school precincts. The response from him was a loud guffaw and a shake of the head. It isn’t possible, he seemed to say, to reason with the unreasonable. We felt the same unease when we celebrated Divali in Dubai, behind drawn curtains and closed windows. Divali celebrations, forget crackers, could attract the wrath of the shurtas ( cops). It seemed no better than racism and we felt its sting. I felt the sting again as I gobbled a sandwich in the office toilet during the fasting month of Ramadan. Since Muslims must fast in Ramadan, it is illegal to eat in their presence since that would tempt them to break their fast; jail and some generous and hard lashes are punishments for the “crime.” This is the same Dubai of posh high-rise buildings and beaches, expensive imported cars and sprawling malls. While modernity surrounds you, the minds of the authorities are still confined in a hijab. The pay is good, and for some time, at least, expatriates put up with intolerances by reminding themselves that things are worse in Saudi Arabia.
Jahanbegloo’s book is a plea for both Islamic and non-Islamic practitioners to abjure intolerances and violence and instead, replace them with constructive dialogue with one other. He wants the hostility to be replaced by “hospitality” on both sides. His analysis is, no doubt, provoked by Samuel Huntington’s book, “The Clash of Civilizations;” he declares that the today’s global divide is caused not by different cultures and civilizations being at loggerheads, but rather because of the tendency not to tolerate differences. While it is Bernard Lewis and not Huntington who first coined the term in his seminal essay “The Roots of Muslim Rage” (1990), he has received less attention by the media. Lewis debunks the theory that it is the West that is responsible for the growth of extremism in Islamic Middle East and instead holds that the condition is self-inflicted, caused by its culture and religion. This weakness was a byproduct of “cultural arrogance." Lewis opines that the root problem in dealing with hard Islam lies elsewhere: “More than ever before it is Western capitalism and democracy that provide an authentic and attractive alternative to traditional ways of thought and life. Fundamentalist leaders are not mistaken in seeing the Western civilization the greatest challenge to the way of life that they wish to retain and restore for their people.” He adds, “Ultimately the struggle of the fundamentalists is against two enemies: secularism and modernism.”
Unwilling to address these issues at first, probably concerned with defusing the current climate of hostility that centres around Islam and radical and moderate Muslims all over the world, Jahanbegloo pleads for a rational attempt to listen to the “other” without resorting to violence. He says, in the Preface, “ International terrorism as much as war against terrorism strike at the universal values, including that of religious tolerance, on which the whole concept of human co-existence is founded.” One is hard pressed to understand how a well-meaning intellectual can put the two on a weighing scale and find them equally at fault. Is there, then, no lesser crime? Is there, then, no difference between the Pandavas and the Kauravas? Is Arjuna upholding the right and going to war, no different from Duryodana’s doing the same?
Towards the end of the book, he asserts, “ Violence begets violence. Peace is always denied to those who use violence. There is no such thing as a “good war” against “bad guys.”” While it might be fashionable to hold simplisitc beliefs such as these, these are dangerously complex times and heeding these words would be injurious to one’s health. Even our bodies, when invaded by a virus, label it as “bad” and attack it, thank God. Dinasaurs didn’t think so, sadly, and they aren’t, therefore, around to tell us their sad tales. Similarly, with a daughter held by a rapist, no parent is going to see his attempts to release the child as anything but “good”; it is certainly a “good war against a bad guy.” Extrapolated, if somebody invades my home/nation, my mind will not accept that I, too, am bad. No matter how you spin this, there is such a thing as virtue and there is something that is not. Even sages work towards destroying ignorance( bad) so that knowledge (good) can shine forth.
At another place, he declares, “ It is not right to respond to intolerance by being intolerant.” He is right in remarking that people begin by “decivilizing humanity” and “degrading” the other. It was certainly that same mindset which led the terrorists to blow up several busy, well-populated places in Mumbai in daylight hours not many years ago. So, how would one deal with an intolerant Dawood or Osama bin Laden who “decivilizes and degrades” others? The United Nations spoke in almost one voice when it came to dealing with the Taliban because of Osama in Afghanistan. Was the combined wisdom of the whole world missing the answer that Jahanbegloo now offers to a war-weary world? When all else fails, including dialogue, what answers does Jahanbegloo’s philosophy offer to the world? Unfortunately he refrains to provide us with adequate answers. What if the “other” believes, like Hitler, in violence as the quickest and only way of meeting his targets? Well-meaning and sweet that he surely is( if only there were more Jahanbegloos in the Muslim world) he is honestly unable to grapple with the task of dealing with the most pressing problem of the 21st century. He looks the other way and continues to ask honest questions which he forgets to answer. One would have wished a fitting answer to his own question, “What are the limits of tolerance and what should we do with the intolerant?” It would certainly have made his philosophy deeper and left the world with an answer out of the predicament. Intellectually, the study begins with proposing dialogue over violence, with hospitality over hostility, but attempts no progression of thought, and therefore remains a mere plea for dialogue, no more.
It is alluring to dwell in a luxury hotel amongst a roomful of philosophers to debate beliefs and issues; it is another matter to grapple with a man who speaks a different language with a hand-grenade in one hand and a holy book in another, ready to blow himself and the whole world up. One has no time for luxurious ruminations but for clear and decisive action. But while we, too, support Jahanbegloo in utilising dialogue when confronted with a dilemma, there are some situations that need an urgent and decisive response if humanity is not to perish. One discovers that he will not deal with the worst-case scenario, that he has no concrete answers for the increase in hardening stands, both for and against radical
A more objective approach to a pressing problem of crisis proportions was required but the author fought shy of it. Upholding Gandhi and being critical of the West in carefully diguised words may not be the way out. It is only in the end that five pages go in-depth into the task for Muslims, and it is here that the book throws up a few observations worthy of attention:
“It is not the “clash” of distance, but on the contrary the closeness which is at the origin of anxiety. Islam, especially that of the Middle East, by its closeness to and ties with Europe.. reveals most dramatically the fear of sameness. Islamism is the conflictual expression of this involuntary yet close encounter with modernity. In other words, contemporary Islamism is based on a double movement and tension: antagonistic posture with modernity and ideologization of religion… Islamic terrorism is meant to express a radical anti-modernity… Islamism has pushed Muslims to mourn their own modernity…. Muslims who argue for democracy and secularism seem to be yelled out of the arena on the charge that they are not “ Muslim enough.” Voices within the Muslim community, which insist that Islam should have nothing to do with hatred, terrorism and backward-looking, find themselves maginalized.” Perhaps, this is where the problem lies and carries within itself the seed of the solution to the dangerously growing global impasse.
by Lata Jagtiani
THE CLASH OF INTOLERANCES
BY RAHIM JAHANBEGLOO
PUBLISHED BY HAR-ANAND PUBLICATIONS PVT LTD.
PRICE: RS 295
Once, in the early 1980s, as a lecturer at an Indian school in Dubai, I saw, within our school premises, a five-foot statue of Mahatma Gandhi installed in the playground. A few days later, however, the statue disappeared. I re-discovered it tucked away in a corner, hiding furtively in darkness in the school-library, heavily draped with sheets. Gandhiji was in a hijab because a government directive prohibited statues. So, one could not even have one within the Indian school premises? I suggested to the Principal that we put across our point to the authorities and convince them to allow us our Indian way of life within the school precincts. The response from him was a loud guffaw and a shake of the head. It isn’t possible, he seemed to say, to reason with the unreasonable. We felt the same unease when we celebrated Divali in Dubai, behind drawn curtains and closed windows. Divali celebrations, forget crackers, could attract the wrath of the shurtas ( cops). It seemed no better than racism and we felt its sting. I felt the sting again as I gobbled a sandwich in the office toilet during the fasting month of Ramadan. Since Muslims must fast in Ramadan, it is illegal to eat in their presence since that would tempt them to break their fast; jail and some generous and hard lashes are punishments for the “crime.” This is the same Dubai of posh high-rise buildings and beaches, expensive imported cars and sprawling malls. While modernity surrounds you, the minds of the authorities are still confined in a hijab. The pay is good, and for some time, at least, expatriates put up with intolerances by reminding themselves that things are worse in Saudi Arabia.
Jahanbegloo’s book is a plea for both Islamic and non-Islamic practitioners to abjure intolerances and violence and instead, replace them with constructive dialogue with one other. He wants the hostility to be replaced by “hospitality” on both sides. His analysis is, no doubt, provoked by Samuel Huntington’s book, “The Clash of Civilizations;” he declares that the today’s global divide is caused not by different cultures and civilizations being at loggerheads, but rather because of the tendency not to tolerate differences. While it is Bernard Lewis and not Huntington who first coined the term in his seminal essay “The Roots of Muslim Rage” (1990), he has received less attention by the media. Lewis debunks the theory that it is the West that is responsible for the growth of extremism in Islamic Middle East and instead holds that the condition is self-inflicted, caused by its culture and religion. This weakness was a byproduct of “cultural arrogance." Lewis opines that the root problem in dealing with hard Islam lies elsewhere: “More than ever before it is Western capitalism and democracy that provide an authentic and attractive alternative to traditional ways of thought and life. Fundamentalist leaders are not mistaken in seeing the Western civilization the greatest challenge to the way of life that they wish to retain and restore for their people.” He adds, “Ultimately the struggle of the fundamentalists is against two enemies: secularism and modernism.”
Unwilling to address these issues at first, probably concerned with defusing the current climate of hostility that centres around Islam and radical and moderate Muslims all over the world, Jahanbegloo pleads for a rational attempt to listen to the “other” without resorting to violence. He says, in the Preface, “ International terrorism as much as war against terrorism strike at the universal values, including that of religious tolerance, on which the whole concept of human co-existence is founded.” One is hard pressed to understand how a well-meaning intellectual can put the two on a weighing scale and find them equally at fault. Is there, then, no lesser crime? Is there, then, no difference between the Pandavas and the Kauravas? Is Arjuna upholding the right and going to war, no different from Duryodana’s doing the same?
Towards the end of the book, he asserts, “ Violence begets violence. Peace is always denied to those who use violence. There is no such thing as a “good war” against “bad guys.”” While it might be fashionable to hold simplisitc beliefs such as these, these are dangerously complex times and heeding these words would be injurious to one’s health. Even our bodies, when invaded by a virus, label it as “bad” and attack it, thank God. Dinasaurs didn’t think so, sadly, and they aren’t, therefore, around to tell us their sad tales. Similarly, with a daughter held by a rapist, no parent is going to see his attempts to release the child as anything but “good”; it is certainly a “good war against a bad guy.” Extrapolated, if somebody invades my home/nation, my mind will not accept that I, too, am bad. No matter how you spin this, there is such a thing as virtue and there is something that is not. Even sages work towards destroying ignorance( bad) so that knowledge (good) can shine forth.
At another place, he declares, “ It is not right to respond to intolerance by being intolerant.” He is right in remarking that people begin by “decivilizing humanity” and “degrading” the other. It was certainly that same mindset which led the terrorists to blow up several busy, well-populated places in Mumbai in daylight hours not many years ago. So, how would one deal with an intolerant Dawood or Osama bin Laden who “decivilizes and degrades” others? The United Nations spoke in almost one voice when it came to dealing with the Taliban because of Osama in Afghanistan. Was the combined wisdom of the whole world missing the answer that Jahanbegloo now offers to a war-weary world? When all else fails, including dialogue, what answers does Jahanbegloo’s philosophy offer to the world? Unfortunately he refrains to provide us with adequate answers. What if the “other” believes, like Hitler, in violence as the quickest and only way of meeting his targets? Well-meaning and sweet that he surely is( if only there were more Jahanbegloos in the Muslim world) he is honestly unable to grapple with the task of dealing with the most pressing problem of the 21st century. He looks the other way and continues to ask honest questions which he forgets to answer. One would have wished a fitting answer to his own question, “What are the limits of tolerance and what should we do with the intolerant?” It would certainly have made his philosophy deeper and left the world with an answer out of the predicament. Intellectually, the study begins with proposing dialogue over violence, with hospitality over hostility, but attempts no progression of thought, and therefore remains a mere plea for dialogue, no more.
It is alluring to dwell in a luxury hotel amongst a roomful of philosophers to debate beliefs and issues; it is another matter to grapple with a man who speaks a different language with a hand-grenade in one hand and a holy book in another, ready to blow himself and the whole world up. One has no time for luxurious ruminations but for clear and decisive action. But while we, too, support Jahanbegloo in utilising dialogue when confronted with a dilemma, there are some situations that need an urgent and decisive response if humanity is not to perish. One discovers that he will not deal with the worst-case scenario, that he has no concrete answers for the increase in hardening stands, both for and against radical
A more objective approach to a pressing problem of crisis proportions was required but the author fought shy of it. Upholding Gandhi and being critical of the West in carefully diguised words may not be the way out. It is only in the end that five pages go in-depth into the task for Muslims, and it is here that the book throws up a few observations worthy of attention:
“It is not the “clash” of distance, but on the contrary the closeness which is at the origin of anxiety. Islam, especially that of the Middle East, by its closeness to and ties with Europe.. reveals most dramatically the fear of sameness. Islamism is the conflictual expression of this involuntary yet close encounter with modernity. In other words, contemporary Islamism is based on a double movement and tension: antagonistic posture with modernity and ideologization of religion… Islamic terrorism is meant to express a radical anti-modernity… Islamism has pushed Muslims to mourn their own modernity…. Muslims who argue for democracy and secularism seem to be yelled out of the arena on the charge that they are not “ Muslim enough.” Voices within the Muslim community, which insist that Islam should have nothing to do with hatred, terrorism and backward-looking, find themselves maginalized.” Perhaps, this is where the problem lies and carries within itself the seed of the solution to the dangerously growing global impasse.
BOOK REVIEW
“GOODBYE TO GANDHI”: TRAVELS IN THE NEW INDIA
BY BERNARD IMHASLY
PENGUIN VIKING
PRICE RS 425.00
Prior to their arrival into India, and accustomed to neat definitions for countries (such as chocolates, mountains, punctuality, secret bank accounts define Switzerland,) foreigners have the image of India as a land of snake-charmers, elephants, Rajahs, poverty, the Taj Mahal and Gandhi; however, as soon as they step out of the airport their jaws drop, as do their images. At once they are taken aback, often disgusted, surprised, delighted, awe-struck, happy and then perplexed. India is the unyielding, impetuous and enigmatic Diva who is larger than life, better understood through a song on life, “kaisi paheli hai tu kaisi paheli, zindagani..”
No 200-page book can contain this Diva without failing, and Switzerland’s Bernard Imhasly, accustomed to neat, easily definable little countries such as Switzerland and Germany, falters and stumbles. Every chronicler finds himself reduced to a Lilliputian when confronted by India, and Imhasly himself admits, “the mammoth Indian subcontinent that covers 3.3 Million square kilometers…far exceeds the limits of a book.... The cultural diversity, socioeconomic and religious fault lines, the sheer mass of humanity defy extrapolation…” He adds that it is because of this that he moves from India to Gandhi, stating that the book is “an account of travels in modern India, with Gandhi as my guide.” He measures current issues against Gandhi’s life and ideas, observes if India adopts his idealism or ignores it. The book attempts to see if India passes the litmus “Gandhi” test, by seeing today’s India through the prism of a Gandhi who was born in 1869, a full 139 years ago.
But the moot question is, can and should India be reduced to Gandhi? Indira Gandhi tried to narrow India down to “India is Indira, Indira is India” only to find herself thrown out once by a disgruntled Indian electorate, and then later, gunned down by none other than Indian guards. Also, would India be such a huge growing global power today if it had followed the Gandhian vision based on swadeshi? Of couse India would not be a nuclear power, and thus, the next question begs an answer, how far would Gandhi’s non-violence have taken India if Pakistan has the bomb and India didn’t, would there even be an India left?
In his essay, “Reflections On Gandhi”, George Orwell observed, “There is reason to think that Gandhi, who after all was born in 1869, did not understand the nature of totalitarianism and saw everything in terms of his own struggle against the British government. The important point here is not so much that the British treated him forbearingly as that he was always able to command publicity…he believed in "arousing the world," which is only possible if the world gets a chance to hear what you are doing.” Imhasly also observes, “Gandhi, had undoubtedly been one of the twentieth century’s media masters. He would astutely estimate the impact of his messages and use powerful symbols to convey them...” Orwell adds, “It is difficult to see how Gandhi's methods could be applied in a country where opponents of the regime disappear in the middle of the night and are never heard of again. Without a free press and the right of assembly, it is impossible not merely to appeal to outside opinion, but to bring a mass movement into being, or even to make your intentions known to your adversary.” Orwell points out that Gandhian methods were doomed to failure, when one is dealing with lunatics or with misguided fanatics of the Hitlerian kind. In that event, how would one deal with terrorists and suicide bombers?
Imhasly’s “Goodbye to Gandhi” is a loving yet bleak portrayal of an India that has mostly gone way off the Gandhian mark. Well written and painstakingly put together, the book covers the writer’s journey through some parts of India. One wonders why he mostly focuses on non-Congress ruled states, as if he dare not offend the ruling Congress sensibilities at the centre. He interviews Modi, Togadia and Sudharshan, but never interviews a single Congress leader, which is altogether surprising since Gandhi was a Congressman for long and it is not Modi or Sudarshan but the Congress that even today swears by Gandhi. Such sins of omission are telling, and they what they tell isn’t pretty.
Imhasly finds proof that Gandhi is more irrelevant than relevant; more honoured in the breach than in the observance; and that Gandhi is a “thorn” for his opponents and an inconvenience for his avowed followers who speak of Gandhi and have nothing to do with him really. The excellent style of writing and succinct descriptions makes Imhasly’s book easy reading. Apart from a few oversights, such as the absence of notes to explain foreign italicized terms, such as “weltanschauung” and “schadenfreude” etc, and the complete absence of a Bibliography and Index at the end, the book is interesting. The high point of the book is the chapter, “The Mothers of Manipur” where Imhasly reports on his heart-felt attempts at meeting with Irom Sharmila. The chapter is an absolute treasure as he chronicles one woman’s brave ongoing attempts at non-violent protest. On 2nd November 2000, Sharmila decided that she would protest against the killing of murdered innocents by going on a hunger-strike. She was arrested on Novemeber 11, 2000 and has been under custody force-fed to this day. Absolutely top-class reporting follows as the journalist in Imhasly refuses to give up so that he can meet with Sharmila and hand over a book to her while she is in custody, and despite everything, fails.
However, Imhasly takes the usual “secular’ route several times. Although 3000 people were killed after Rajiv Gandhi became the Prime Minister, it is not Rajiv Gandhi but the “Congress party goons” who are regarded as guilty despite Rajiv Gandhi’s famous “when a big tree falls” remark; however, when 2000 people were killed in Gujarat, Imhasly quite clearly levels his finger on Modi. No condemnation for the former, of course. Even-handedness not being his strength, he interviews a Modi but never a Sonia Gandhi or a Tytler or even a Sharad Pawar to know what happened in Delhi or Mumbai. Even when the hated BJP puts up and elects a Muslim as the President of India and the Congress opposes it, Imhasly prefers not to beat the Congress for it, but instead beats the BJP by hiding behind the “liberal critics” who “saw in the choice of a Muslim, a few months after the terrible riots in Gujarat, a fig leaf to conceal its anti-Muslim stance.” Talk about hatred!
The final question that Imhasly will need to address in all honesty, is the Orwellian question, “And is it not possible for one whole culture to be insane by the standards of another?” How can a Judeo-Christian culture or society fully comprehend the pure Islamic thought? How can a devout Saudi Arabian comprehend the agnosticism of the Dalai Lama? Thus, can Imhasly understand why Jinnah would not allow Gandhi to define him or Muslims and saw Muslims as a separate state? Jinnah spoke for the refusal of the Muslim psyche to fit into the Gandhi mould, and Pakistan, today regarded as the most dangerous nation in the world, was born; in some measure, there are several Dalits and Sangh parivarwallahs, who similarly protest the Gandhian straitjacket. Imhasly’s question is pertinent, “Yet until this day Gandhi is a red rag for most Dalits. What are the roots of this animus? Is it another instance of Gandhi’s failure, just as he had failed to bring together Hindus and Muslims?” It is when Imhasly offers history a la Romila Thapar (on Somnath) and insights from people who hate the Sangh parivar such as Mallika Sarabhai, and the Tehelka, it is then that Imhasly does the greatest disservice to his book because his political bias shows up and distorts his study of the country attempts to fathom. It is again disappointing that Imhasly’s scholarship is found so wanting as to disregard the work of fellow Europeans such as Elst and Gautier; pages from their Gautier’s study of India, “A Western Journalist on India” would have offered him the dimension he has denied both himself and his readers.
While Imhasly is right in concluding that India has mostly failed Gandhi, he needs to question the yardstick itself; why should the vast country yield to any human being, however great he might be? Even one of the greatest Indian mystics, Shree Ramana Maharshi, Gandhi’s contemporary, did not join hands with Gandhi, his path being that of a jnani, and not of a karmayogi. Gandhi could as little contain Ramana Maharshi as Ramana Maharshi could contain Gandhi, and they were just two of the many worlds that co-exist in diverse India.
India is the growing, dynamic, uncontainable, living force, free, to quote the song on life, with a little twist in the end, “thaama han, roka isko kisne, hai yeh to hai beheta paani, kaisi paheli hai yeh kaisi, Hindustani…”
“GOODBYE TO GANDHI”: TRAVELS IN THE NEW INDIA
BY BERNARD IMHASLY
PENGUIN VIKING
PRICE RS 425.00
Prior to their arrival into India, and accustomed to neat definitions for countries (such as chocolates, mountains, punctuality, secret bank accounts define Switzerland,) foreigners have the image of India as a land of snake-charmers, elephants, Rajahs, poverty, the Taj Mahal and Gandhi; however, as soon as they step out of the airport their jaws drop, as do their images. At once they are taken aback, often disgusted, surprised, delighted, awe-struck, happy and then perplexed. India is the unyielding, impetuous and enigmatic Diva who is larger than life, better understood through a song on life, “kaisi paheli hai tu kaisi paheli, zindagani..”
No 200-page book can contain this Diva without failing, and Switzerland’s Bernard Imhasly, accustomed to neat, easily definable little countries such as Switzerland and Germany, falters and stumbles. Every chronicler finds himself reduced to a Lilliputian when confronted by India, and Imhasly himself admits, “the mammoth Indian subcontinent that covers 3.3 Million square kilometers…far exceeds the limits of a book.... The cultural diversity, socioeconomic and religious fault lines, the sheer mass of humanity defy extrapolation…” He adds that it is because of this that he moves from India to Gandhi, stating that the book is “an account of travels in modern India, with Gandhi as my guide.” He measures current issues against Gandhi’s life and ideas, observes if India adopts his idealism or ignores it. The book attempts to see if India passes the litmus “Gandhi” test, by seeing today’s India through the prism of a Gandhi who was born in 1869, a full 139 years ago.
But the moot question is, can and should India be reduced to Gandhi? Indira Gandhi tried to narrow India down to “India is Indira, Indira is India” only to find herself thrown out once by a disgruntled Indian electorate, and then later, gunned down by none other than Indian guards. Also, would India be such a huge growing global power today if it had followed the Gandhian vision based on swadeshi? Of couse India would not be a nuclear power, and thus, the next question begs an answer, how far would Gandhi’s non-violence have taken India if Pakistan has the bomb and India didn’t, would there even be an India left?
In his essay, “Reflections On Gandhi”, George Orwell observed, “There is reason to think that Gandhi, who after all was born in 1869, did not understand the nature of totalitarianism and saw everything in terms of his own struggle against the British government. The important point here is not so much that the British treated him forbearingly as that he was always able to command publicity…he believed in "arousing the world," which is only possible if the world gets a chance to hear what you are doing.” Imhasly also observes, “Gandhi, had undoubtedly been one of the twentieth century’s media masters. He would astutely estimate the impact of his messages and use powerful symbols to convey them...” Orwell adds, “It is difficult to see how Gandhi's methods could be applied in a country where opponents of the regime disappear in the middle of the night and are never heard of again. Without a free press and the right of assembly, it is impossible not merely to appeal to outside opinion, but to bring a mass movement into being, or even to make your intentions known to your adversary.” Orwell points out that Gandhian methods were doomed to failure, when one is dealing with lunatics or with misguided fanatics of the Hitlerian kind. In that event, how would one deal with terrorists and suicide bombers?
Imhasly’s “Goodbye to Gandhi” is a loving yet bleak portrayal of an India that has mostly gone way off the Gandhian mark. Well written and painstakingly put together, the book covers the writer’s journey through some parts of India. One wonders why he mostly focuses on non-Congress ruled states, as if he dare not offend the ruling Congress sensibilities at the centre. He interviews Modi, Togadia and Sudharshan, but never interviews a single Congress leader, which is altogether surprising since Gandhi was a Congressman for long and it is not Modi or Sudarshan but the Congress that even today swears by Gandhi. Such sins of omission are telling, and they what they tell isn’t pretty.
Imhasly finds proof that Gandhi is more irrelevant than relevant; more honoured in the breach than in the observance; and that Gandhi is a “thorn” for his opponents and an inconvenience for his avowed followers who speak of Gandhi and have nothing to do with him really. The excellent style of writing and succinct descriptions makes Imhasly’s book easy reading. Apart from a few oversights, such as the absence of notes to explain foreign italicized terms, such as “weltanschauung” and “schadenfreude” etc, and the complete absence of a Bibliography and Index at the end, the book is interesting. The high point of the book is the chapter, “The Mothers of Manipur” where Imhasly reports on his heart-felt attempts at meeting with Irom Sharmila. The chapter is an absolute treasure as he chronicles one woman’s brave ongoing attempts at non-violent protest. On 2nd November 2000, Sharmila decided that she would protest against the killing of murdered innocents by going on a hunger-strike. She was arrested on Novemeber 11, 2000 and has been under custody force-fed to this day. Absolutely top-class reporting follows as the journalist in Imhasly refuses to give up so that he can meet with Sharmila and hand over a book to her while she is in custody, and despite everything, fails.
However, Imhasly takes the usual “secular’ route several times. Although 3000 people were killed after Rajiv Gandhi became the Prime Minister, it is not Rajiv Gandhi but the “Congress party goons” who are regarded as guilty despite Rajiv Gandhi’s famous “when a big tree falls” remark; however, when 2000 people were killed in Gujarat, Imhasly quite clearly levels his finger on Modi. No condemnation for the former, of course. Even-handedness not being his strength, he interviews a Modi but never a Sonia Gandhi or a Tytler or even a Sharad Pawar to know what happened in Delhi or Mumbai. Even when the hated BJP puts up and elects a Muslim as the President of India and the Congress opposes it, Imhasly prefers not to beat the Congress for it, but instead beats the BJP by hiding behind the “liberal critics” who “saw in the choice of a Muslim, a few months after the terrible riots in Gujarat, a fig leaf to conceal its anti-Muslim stance.” Talk about hatred!
The final question that Imhasly will need to address in all honesty, is the Orwellian question, “And is it not possible for one whole culture to be insane by the standards of another?” How can a Judeo-Christian culture or society fully comprehend the pure Islamic thought? How can a devout Saudi Arabian comprehend the agnosticism of the Dalai Lama? Thus, can Imhasly understand why Jinnah would not allow Gandhi to define him or Muslims and saw Muslims as a separate state? Jinnah spoke for the refusal of the Muslim psyche to fit into the Gandhi mould, and Pakistan, today regarded as the most dangerous nation in the world, was born; in some measure, there are several Dalits and Sangh parivarwallahs, who similarly protest the Gandhian straitjacket. Imhasly’s question is pertinent, “Yet until this day Gandhi is a red rag for most Dalits. What are the roots of this animus? Is it another instance of Gandhi’s failure, just as he had failed to bring together Hindus and Muslims?” It is when Imhasly offers history a la Romila Thapar (on Somnath) and insights from people who hate the Sangh parivar such as Mallika Sarabhai, and the Tehelka, it is then that Imhasly does the greatest disservice to his book because his political bias shows up and distorts his study of the country attempts to fathom. It is again disappointing that Imhasly’s scholarship is found so wanting as to disregard the work of fellow Europeans such as Elst and Gautier; pages from their Gautier’s study of India, “A Western Journalist on India” would have offered him the dimension he has denied both himself and his readers.
While Imhasly is right in concluding that India has mostly failed Gandhi, he needs to question the yardstick itself; why should the vast country yield to any human being, however great he might be? Even one of the greatest Indian mystics, Shree Ramana Maharshi, Gandhi’s contemporary, did not join hands with Gandhi, his path being that of a jnani, and not of a karmayogi. Gandhi could as little contain Ramana Maharshi as Ramana Maharshi could contain Gandhi, and they were just two of the many worlds that co-exist in diverse India.
India is the growing, dynamic, uncontainable, living force, free, to quote the song on life, with a little twist in the end, “thaama han, roka isko kisne, hai yeh to hai beheta paani, kaisi paheli hai yeh kaisi, Hindustani…”
BOOK REVIEW:
“IN THE SHADOW OF THE TAJ” BY ROYINA GREWAL
PUBLISHED BY PENGUIN
PRICE RS 295
After having read several books on the cities of the world, I was rather disappointed when I read Royina Grewal’s account of Agra. While her excessive love for the town is evidently showcased over several pages, what is lacking, however, is a sincere attempt at a coherent presentation of the data she has compiled. One goes back and forth in time repeatedly; why did Ms Grewal think it necessary to flashback, an style more suited to fiction than to non-fiction? Attempting to be in two different time zones, and that too, without panache, the book muddles on in contrived distraction. One is even more surprised to find the Penguin book poorly proof-read (even the initial “Acknowledgements” begins with spelling consistently as “consistantly”).
Grewal starts off with the announcement that all the Mughal emperors loved the outdoors, implying that this was unusual. Then the book lumbers under the writer’s clear pro-Muslim bias: Babur is regarded as a “great adventurer, a master strategist, an inspired leader of men, a general renowned for his bravery… he loved nature deeply… he had a distinguished ancestry..” If Mahmud Ghazni invaded India 17 times, Ms Grewal wishes to question the inconvenient fact and puts that historical fact into unattributed quotes, afraid, no doubt, of hurting Muslim sentiments. Why walk on eggshells on this fact? Grewal sees Agra through a romantic haze but she has makes no attempts to hide her disdain of other faiths of Indian origin. Her slyly critical account of her meeting with the head of the Radha Soami Satsangh reeks of unkindness and prejudice. While in one breath she writes, “ Sultan Ibrahim Lodi is credited with founding the city in 1504 and the year 2004 was sought to be celebrated as the 500th anniversary of Agra’s birth. This plan was scuttled in consideration to those who believe that Agra was an ancient Hindu settlement” a few pages ahead she goes ahead to state, “ The region is mentioned in the epic, “Mahabharata” as Agravan, the forest of Agra, or as some prefer, the forest ahead.” The struggle between the historian and the secularist in Grewal rages on through the book, making the book difficult to read as a book about a town. By questioning the Hindu claim and treating non-Hindu positions with kid gloves she turns the attention away from Agra and towards herself, which is a pity.
However, the book brings important facts to one’s attention, appalling as they often are. There are no flights to Agra despite the Tajmahal! Train timings are fixed in such a way that people don’t even need to stay over a night, resulting in losses to hotels. All this because “Agra has never had a godfather, we’ve never had a political patron” as Mr Dang observes in the book. The book ends with a poem that highlights how the local population of Agra see the Tajmahal:
“The Taj is Agra’s strength and its weakness
it is our pride, it is India’s pride
But because we consider the Taj to be everything
Anything else is scorned
Even the plight of the common man
Whenever there is any thought of advancement in Agra
It is the Taj, always the Taj, only the Taj,
The Taj is like a coffin in which the people of Agra are buried alive.”
One hopes that the shortage of potable water and other pressing problems that beset Agra will cease once a political bigwig reads the book. Ms Grewal’s observations about a town in disrepair could have been so much more effective had she been wearing the historian’s hat throughout the book.
“IN THE SHADOW OF THE TAJ” BY ROYINA GREWAL
PUBLISHED BY PENGUIN
PRICE RS 295
After having read several books on the cities of the world, I was rather disappointed when I read Royina Grewal’s account of Agra. While her excessive love for the town is evidently showcased over several pages, what is lacking, however, is a sincere attempt at a coherent presentation of the data she has compiled. One goes back and forth in time repeatedly; why did Ms Grewal think it necessary to flashback, an style more suited to fiction than to non-fiction? Attempting to be in two different time zones, and that too, without panache, the book muddles on in contrived distraction. One is even more surprised to find the Penguin book poorly proof-read (even the initial “Acknowledgements” begins with spelling consistently as “consistantly”).
Grewal starts off with the announcement that all the Mughal emperors loved the outdoors, implying that this was unusual. Then the book lumbers under the writer’s clear pro-Muslim bias: Babur is regarded as a “great adventurer, a master strategist, an inspired leader of men, a general renowned for his bravery… he loved nature deeply… he had a distinguished ancestry..” If Mahmud Ghazni invaded India 17 times, Ms Grewal wishes to question the inconvenient fact and puts that historical fact into unattributed quotes, afraid, no doubt, of hurting Muslim sentiments. Why walk on eggshells on this fact? Grewal sees Agra through a romantic haze but she has makes no attempts to hide her disdain of other faiths of Indian origin. Her slyly critical account of her meeting with the head of the Radha Soami Satsangh reeks of unkindness and prejudice. While in one breath she writes, “ Sultan Ibrahim Lodi is credited with founding the city in 1504 and the year 2004 was sought to be celebrated as the 500th anniversary of Agra’s birth. This plan was scuttled in consideration to those who believe that Agra was an ancient Hindu settlement” a few pages ahead she goes ahead to state, “ The region is mentioned in the epic, “Mahabharata” as Agravan, the forest of Agra, or as some prefer, the forest ahead.” The struggle between the historian and the secularist in Grewal rages on through the book, making the book difficult to read as a book about a town. By questioning the Hindu claim and treating non-Hindu positions with kid gloves she turns the attention away from Agra and towards herself, which is a pity.
However, the book brings important facts to one’s attention, appalling as they often are. There are no flights to Agra despite the Tajmahal! Train timings are fixed in such a way that people don’t even need to stay over a night, resulting in losses to hotels. All this because “Agra has never had a godfather, we’ve never had a political patron” as Mr Dang observes in the book. The book ends with a poem that highlights how the local population of Agra see the Tajmahal:
“The Taj is Agra’s strength and its weakness
it is our pride, it is India’s pride
But because we consider the Taj to be everything
Anything else is scorned
Even the plight of the common man
Whenever there is any thought of advancement in Agra
It is the Taj, always the Taj, only the Taj,
The Taj is like a coffin in which the people of Agra are buried alive.”
One hopes that the shortage of potable water and other pressing problems that beset Agra will cease once a political bigwig reads the book. Ms Grewal’s observations about a town in disrepair could have been so much more effective had she been wearing the historian’s hat throughout the book.
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