Madhya Pradesh Chief Minister Digvijay Singh could hardly have realized the irony in his statement, “most of the controversies about history are because too many non-historians are talking about how history should be written.” Alas, instead of taking a leaf from his own book, Singh spoke expansively about the politicization of the subject by fundamentalist groups, whatever that means. Predictably therefore, the Indian History Congress mela in Bhopal became the occasion for Marxists and fellow-travellers to beat their breasts over the Fate of History in the proposed new school books. It is, of course, a different matter that the Congress is supposed to address issues of research methodology and interpretation at higher levels of learning.
Meanwhile, the Stories about History proliferate with bewildering profusion. Some say it is a plot to unveil the hidden truth about the Past; others aver that it is really a ruse to rake in the votes in present-day Politics. Even discerning readers are now confused whether the clamour is over what happened in history or what will happen in UP. In the absence of a credible translation of Nostradamus, we may have to turn to The Red Book of the Dead for an answer.
Ever since the gravy train of a few superannuated historians who wrote their textbooks some decades ago was derailed in the NCERT compound, rivers of vitriol have flowed over the present government’s temerity in trying to replace selective – and even destructive – saga with more inclusive narrative. Yet anyone with a moderate sense of justice can see that the Marxist version of history is not just tainted by Ideology; its cornerstone is a fundamental hostility to Indian nationhood.
The problem is not simply that Marxist scholars have tailored their accounts of the past to conform to Karl Marx’s model of feudalism and early capitalism in Europe. Such an issue would be amenable to reasoned debate. The problem becomes partly visible when we see that Leftists have selectively filtered the annals of the freedom struggle (not to mention the mischief done with other epochs) to deny due accord to those whose sacrifices fired society’s imagination and gave the movement a tremendous boost. But here also, my point is not that an unwarranted cult was built around personalities who became disproportionately powerful in the post-independence period.
The core issue is that in classic Soviet style, state patronage was used to force a non-Indic vision and perspective upon a perplexed nation. Marxist historiography’s goal was to undermine, and if possible eradicate, India’s foundational ethos and its moorings in the world’s most ancient, humane, and living civilization. This is a crime against the people; whoever thinks this an exaggeration may look at the debris of cultures wrecked by barbarians of various religious and political persuasions. Octavio Paz testifies to the annihilation of his native Mexican culture, its national character splintered by the marauding Spanish adventurers and the stifling parallel dictatorship of the Catholic Church; nothing meaningful could be salvaged.
In an era in which the Indic civilization is struggling to reassert its original dominance in the sub-continent, it is hardly surprising that the dispute has broken out in the present form, viz., over the depiction of Jain, Sikh and Jat communities in textbooks for school children. Leftists suggest that the objections were stage-managed (allegedly by the BJP), though the first protests by the Sikh community were mooted through the Congress party in the Delhi Legislative Assembly. This encouraged other groups to come forward even as the Congress, caught on the backfoot, effected a dizzying series of volte-faces after which it mercifully shut up.
What is germane however, is not how the controversy began, but whether there is substance in the anger against the impugned books. This means, are various communities unhappy because they have been presented in a true but unflattering light, or because they have been unjustly portrayed? Broadly, the textbooks render Sikh, Jat and Maratha leaders as plunderers, which Leftist scholars insist is factually correct. Certainly the Jats ransacked Akbar’s tomb at Sikandra and other enemy structures they could lay their hands on; similarly the Marathas levied taxes in their spheres of influence.
But these events seen in isolation cannot be used to insinuate the Marxist conclusion; history is a question of perspective and interpretation. With hindsight, we know that the armed uprisings of the Jats, Marathas and Sikhs against Aurangzeb’s rule resulted in the subsequent establishment of separate kingdoms by each of these communities. We can therefore postulate that each community was motivated by political and not rapacious considerations, as Marxists insist.
In the case of the Sikh Guru, moreover, what is pertinent is not the alleged conduct of his army on the way back from Assam, but the reasons for Teg Bahadur’s travels all over the country. The Guru repeatedly emphasized that the people needed reassurance, which is what he offered them. This comfort, it needs hardly be stressed, was against the horrors of religious persecution by the Mughal state. The last two Sikh Gurus were martyred in circumstances that are widely known; what is noteworthy about their conduct in this period is their study of the Hindu tradition, notably the Gods Rama and Krishna and the Goddess Chandi, to understand the legitimacy of violent means to counter evil forces. The outcome was the birth of the Khalsa.
Regarding Jainism, Leftists virtually castigate the community for claiming that it existed before Mahavira, and taunt that Buddhists should be prompted to make similar claims of antiquity. This is a matter of considerable sensitivity for Jains, but also has a bearing on the larger society as India has always engaged in free exchange of ideas and experiences across the religious-philosophical spectrum. Thus, though distinct groups have a core identity which distinguishes them from others, the notion of watertight compartments is alien to this country.
I have no desire to get embroiled in disputes over the dating of civilization, society, religion et al, but suffice it to say that long before Marxism emerged, the Jain community had explicit ideas about its origin and development. Mahavira was always recognized as the twenty-fourth Tirthankara (ford-maker), and not as the founder of the faith. All twenty-four Tirthankaras have well-developed biographies and genealogies, and from the time that temple and image making began in India, Jains have been building temples with the idols of twenty-four Tirthankaras.
The philosopher Zimmer believed that the twenty-third Tirthankara, Parsvanath, who lived a hundred-odd years before Mahavira, was also a historical figure. The twenty-second ford-maker, Aristanemi, said to have lived eighty-four thousand years before Parsvanath, certainly creates dating problems for modern academics. But Aristanemi’s father was the brother of Vasudev, father of Krishna, another mythological figure whose legendary city has made a magical reappearance from under the sea in our own mundane lifetime. Scholars have already noted an intimate connection between Rishabdev, the first Tirthankara, and Shiva.
Seen in this light, the Jain tapestry forms an inextricable part of the rich and exquisite continuity of India’s civilizational ethos from the earliest times. The suspicion naturally arises if the move to restrict Jainism to the lifetime of a single preceptor is not part of the old, discredited endeavour to divide and diminish Hindu society by projecting it as an aggregate of disparate castes and communities. If so, it is both a poor trick and shoddy scholarship.
The Pioneer, 1 January 2002