Read at
least the highlighted parts to know how we passive and indifferent INDIANS were
fed with distorted
history
disoriented people for many decades or probably centuries.
However,
with proper funding and research we can rewrite the history with truths
and rectify the mistakes not
based on
any individual's or groups ideological or ethnocentric prejudices but purely
based on scientific
evidences
based on archaeological evidences, DNA dating, correlating the references to
individuals, cultures,
traditions,
practices etc as revealed in ancient texts and bring them all together and nail
the lies started by
some of the
vested colonial crooks and perpetrated later on by the stupid half baked
Government appointed [ euphemism of Nehru family appointed ] idiots in the
academic circles who unfortunately decided what is
history and
what history the Indian youth must study.
There is
nothing extremely wrong with this approach except that they have tried to
castrate Bharath's
glorious
past. Perhaps we are one among the few great nations with pride of ancestry and
therefore
hope for
the future.
Please let
more scholars get down and start writing , gathering at least whatever pieces
and information,
evidences
etc you can garner from several sources and nail these lies. We can effect a
change, if not in
the
immediate future at least in the long run. Go ahead and read the article
Kalyanaramanji thanks for once
again bringing such article into the common arena as our corrupt popular
media will not publish such
articles
Romila Thapar and the Study of
Ancient India -- Dilip K Chakrabarti
May 31, 2012
Romila Thapar and the Study of Ancient India
Dilip K Chakrabarti
Distinguished Fellow, Vivekananda International Foundation, and Emeritus
Professor of South Asian Archaeology, Cambridge University
‘Nationalism’ or a ‘nationalist approach to history’ has long been used by and
large in a pejorative sense by modern India’s historians, especially those who
became powerful in the wake of the establishment of Indian Council of
Historical Research in the early 1970s. To draw attention to the fact that this
attitude to the nationalist Indian historians still persists, one can do no
better than cite Romila Thapar’s Lawrence Dana Pinkham memorial lecture in
Chennai in May 2012. Thapar, who was a prominent member of the coterie of
historians associated with the Indian Council of Historical Research, has long
been a Prima Donna of ancient Indian studies both in India and the West, and
her admirers go into tantrums at any kind of criticism of her, as they
apparently did when her selection as a recipient of the Kleuge prize was
questioned by some Americans of Indian origin. She has not done much empirical
research but considerably embellished her writings with smooth references to
different vignettes of social science literature and suggestions on how they
should be incorporated in the study of ancient India. This is the kind of
history which is liked by a vast section of India’s English-educated
‘progressive’ middle class and their intellectual parents in the different
‘Indian studies’ establishments of the Western academia who marvel at the sight
of this Third World woman who speaks their lingo, knows the etiquette and style
of their ‘senior common rooms’ and expresses their ideas with supreme ease and
confidence.
The second paragraph of this lecture on ‘reporting history : early India’
begins with an imagined dichotomy between ‘British colonial historians’ and
‘nationalist historians’. I do not find the idea of such a dichotomy acceptable
in the light of the empirical evidence. For instance, there is no attitudinal
difference to Indian history and culture between the ‘British colonialist
historian’ E.J.Rapson, the Cambridge Sanskritist who was the editor of the
Cambridge History of India , Vol. I, Ancient India,(1922) and the Deccan
College archaeological guru H.D.Sankalia (1973). Rapson wrote in 1922 that “the
migrations and the conquests which provided human energy” with which the Indian
civilizations were created had “invariably come into India from the outside”.
In 1973 Sankalia wrote that every new innovation in Indian history had come
from the West. Examples of this kind may be multiplied ad finitum and
underline the unpleasant fact that the basic structural premises of ancient
Indian history as formulated in the colonial context continued without change
till the modern period.
Regarding the notion of race, which Thapar mentions in pp.2-3 of this lecture,
it may be mentioned that, however unacceptable this may be in the modern
context, the idea of a historical correlation between race, language and
history was accepted unquestioned by India’s ancient historians including
Thapar who, in some of her early publications identifies the Aryans as a
distinct group of people speaking a distinct language and bringing horses to
India. In an earlier context, R.C.Majumdar not merely accepted the idea in its
entirety but also extended it to southeast Asia where the role which was
suggested for the Aryans in India went to the Indian immigrants in that region.
It is an unfortunate fact and a poor reflection on the way how history is
taught in India that the race concept is still a potent force in the perception
of the Indian middle class. Otherwise, is there any explanation of the
frequently published cases of harassment of the student population from the
northeast in Delhi?
The people who have been dubbed ‘nationalist historians’ by later scholars like
Thapar explored only at the peripheries of the historical premises of the
colonial period. If some of them argued for the prevalence of a democratic
system in the early republics or questioned the importance of Alexander’s
invasion or the presence of Indo-Greeks in India, they should be given
unqualified credit for what they tried to do. In retrospect, they were not
powerful enough or even astute enough to question the overarching frame of
historical explanations they inherited from their rulers, and to be fair to them,
that frame has been left in place by the historians who came to power in
independent India with full government patronage in the early 1970s.
If that overarching frame came in for
criticism from any quarter, that came from a few great students of Indian
affairs:for example, Gandhi who does not seem to use the term ‘Aryan’ anywhere
in his writings; Vivekananda who was no historian but nonetheless realized that
the whole Aryan idea was foisted on the Indians by Western scholars ; Ambedkar
whose legal mind perceived that there was no logic behind this idea;
Rabindranath who regretted that the history of India, as taught to us, brought
about a separation between the land and its people.
None of the ideas of these true nationalists ever got into the history books
written by scholars like Majumdar or Thapar. The so-called nationalist
historians or the self-styled enlightened ones had no difficulty in accepting
the basic over-arching frame of ancient India as laid down by the old colonial
historians. In fact, there should not be any logical distinction between the
colonial and nationalist historians. What difference is there between what
Rapson thought and what Sankalia thought, although their writings were about
fifty years apart?
Those familiar with the archaeological issues throughout the 1950s, 1960s and
1970s will know that virtually all aspects of Indian archaeological issues were
dominated, except some rare exceptions, by what old colonial scholars like
D.H.Gordon and Mortimer Wheeler thought. Archaeological research no doubt
expanded during this period but the mindset of the Indian scholarship during
this period was basically a continuation of the old colonial mindset. Did
Thapar herself question any entrenched colonial idea of Indian history in her
Penguin version of the history of ancient India ? Her distinction between the
colonial and nationalist historians is unacceptable. Whether it is Rapson or
Sankalia, or Vincent Smith and Romila Thapar, they are ‘colonialists’ all, if
we simply look at the continuity of ideas between the different periods.
In fact, the only approach which could
bring about a complete change in our perception of Indian history was what has
to be called an essentially archaeological approach to relate this history to
the land. Except some limited attempts on the basis of limited resources, this
approach has not witnessed even a proper beginning in modern India, and the
fact that archaeological studies on the basis of which the Indian land mass may
assume a distinct historical reality have not even significantly caught on in
modern India is an ample indication of how generally pointless is the general
range of historical quibbles emanating from historians like Thapar.
The question of periodisation of ancient Indian history, which Thapar writes
about, is hardly a matter of great significance, with all the terms currently
in use having some logic and relevance. I think that Thapar’s idea that
“ancient India was projected as a virtual utopia” is untrue and has to be
ignored unless accompanied by incisive historiographical research. Thapar
throws in many unwarranted sentences : “if the Census of 1882 had included a
column for those who observed a cross-over kind of religion, a mix of Hinduism,
Islam and other formal religions, this column would undoubtedly have had the
largest number”. We would like to see the premise worked out in detail. Personally I find her reluctance to consider
religion as a historical factor in India rather surprising, especially in view
of the fact that the cataclysmic event of Partition took place in the name of
religion. Thapar writes that the religion of the Harappans is unknown. This is
certainly not the case, although I would not put a modern name to it. I would
not call it a version of modern Hinduism but a lot of the elements which later
became important parts of Hinduism were there. What is the
basic problem in accepting this simple proposition which has been staring
archaeologically at us for a long time ? What is the virtue in championing the
claim that the induction of what has been called the Indo-Aryan language family
is post- Indus civilization on the basis of a completely unstable Rigvedic
chronology ? Is there any way by which the Rigveda can be dated to anybody’s
satisfaction ? What is the reason of showing undue deference to what the
comparative philologists write about the language history of India ? There is
no reason why archaeology should give a toss about these writings because
linguistic reconstructions and their assumed chronology stand entirely on their
own, without any independent support for their historicity.
To come back to the issue of periodisation of Indian history, there cannot be
any single answer, nor is such an answer particularly necessary. One need not
feel terrified at the prospect of lumping the whole period up to c.1200 AD as
‘ancient’ ; after all, it is the history of only 2000 years, assuming that
historical writing began about 800 BC. If one feels happy by coining a separate
phrase called ‘early mediaeval’ for the post-Gupta period till the coming of
the Muslims, one is entitled to do so. Let us , however, not claim that this is
based on detailed studies of socio-economic changes during this period. The
concepts of ‘feudalism’, urban decay and an evanescent trade and commerce
during this period , although much trumpeted by a particular section of ancient
historians, may turn out to be fairly shaky on detailed research. In Europe
itself there is no single idea of feudalism, and the less said about the idea
of missing cities and trade and commerce in India during this period the
better. In any case, the term ‘early mediaeval’ for the post-Gupta period is
unlikely to harm anybody as long as one remembers that it is nothing but a term
to describe the post-Gupta context. There need not be any objection to the use
of the terms Hindu, Muslim and British either, because, for one thing the
historical sources get written primarily in the non-Indian languages of Arabic
and Farsi in the Muslim period and in English during the rule of the British.
Thapar’s attempt to paint herself and others of her ilk martyrs in the cause of
historical studies is downright amusing :
“Ancient India was projected as a virtual utopia, starting with the Vedic age
and culminating 1500 years later in the so-called “golden age” of the Guptas.
It was supposedly a period of unchanging prosperity. Society functioned
according to the norms laid down in the Shastras, so historians did not have to
investigate the reality.
“But let me add that this was not a situation typical of India alone. All
nationalisms have to have a utopian past, preferably located as far back in
time as possible. With limited evidence the imagination is free to conjure up a
romantic past. Questioning this ideal picture is treated as an anti-national
act, as it happened in India not so long ago. Some of us have been subjected to
the slings and arrows of extreme religious nationalist views when we have tried
to give a more integrated and reality-based view of the past. Historians began
to analyse early Indian society in the 1960s and 1970s to arrive at a more
realistic picture. But the opposition to this research was articulated through
a range of religious organizations whose main concern was using religion for
political mobilisation and for acquiring authority. This has now increased and
has become more recognizable.”
Thapar would not possibly know much about the history of Indian art. She would
otherwise have known that the Gupta period symbolises everything that is best
in Indian art tradition and is the culmination of a long period of development.
This period certainly represented a golden age of Indian art and by
implication, a golden phase of India’s historic development as well. There is
nothing Prima facie objectionable to this idea. If Thapar had taken care to
tabulate the specific points which have been developed by her and others of her
group for a ‘more integrated and reality-based view of the past’, we would have
been in a better position to appreciate her arguments.
She also seems to be upset about attempts to use “religion for political
mobilisation and for acquiring authority”. Such attempts, especially if they
have led to the loss of human lives, are surely unfortunate and have to be
condemned, but are such attempts unknown even in the comparatively recent past
of the subcontinent ? Was not the entire Pakistan movement based on the Islamic
identity of its protagonists?
When Thapar writes about being “subjected to the slings and arrows of extreme
religious nationalist views” one cannot help but feel amused. As usual, the
specific details are missing, but the only thing which others could observe was
that with the coming of the NDA government at the centre, she and others of her
group lost their importance in the power grouping of the government-sponsored
Indian Council of Historical Research. Considering that she and others of her
historical group were at the helm of the country’s historical affairs since the
early 1970s, this loss of power in the government has to be counted as a normal
professional hazard which the historians closely tied to the strings of political
power of the country like Thapar should take easily in her strides. On the
contrary, they should feel very satisfied that for a long uninterrupted stretch
since the take-over of the financial and other powers of Indian historical
research by their group, they enjoyed the role of a kind of divine pantheon in
the firmament of Indian historical studies.
A significant part of Thapar’s essay (pp 7-10) tries to gloss over the
harshness of the Islamic conquest of India. Such attempts are pointless. As is
well-known, Islam has not always been kind to ‘infidels’, and there is
absolutely no reason to suggest otherwise, as Thapar does. The modern relation
between Islam and the infidels in modern India must not be judged by what
happened during the Islamic conquest of the land. If she considers that some
historians have judged the methods and impact of the Islamic conquest of India
harshly without any solid historical reason, she is welcome to write about it
in detail, but to be honest, any apology for the conquest is unnecessary.
Her pontification of the civilizations being products of the intermingling of
cultures is uncessary. What she wilfully ignores is the silliness of attempts
to explain the basic style and form of a civilization, old or new, in terms of
diffusions from elsewhere. In the case of India this unfortunately has been the
unchallenged assumption almost since the beginning of ancient Indian studies,
and this is precisely what has been challenged in the 1970s and later. May we
remind Thapar that a Ph.D thesis on the Indus trade done under her supervision
in the late 1960s or early 1970s argued that the role of the Indus civilization
was that of a supplier of raw materials to the contemporary Mesoptamia. In a
review of the published form of this dissertation in Puratattva, I pointed out
this ‘researched’ similarity between the positions held by the Indus
civilization and the colonial India in relation to Mesopotamia and Britain
respectively. There is a steady continuity between the historical approaches of
scholars like Rapson, Sankalia and other scholars of ancient India in modern
India, including Thapar and her kind. Nation hardly blips in the intellectual
radar of these historians.
Thapar should realize that languages are always in a state of flux, being
subject not merely to cultural intermingling but also to the various nuances of
class and cultural background subject in their turn to socio-economic factors
of various kinds. But to be used satisfactorily for historical analysis, we
have to realize that language studies do not have any chronological parameter
of their own and thus whatever one may say about the correlation of language
and a particular archaeological stratum devoid of writing is subjective ,and
not bound by any independent verification. Language is something which the
archaeologists of non-literate contexts may do well without. In fact, trying to
combine language with non-literate archaeological groups has been a breeding
ground of various ethnic and eventually racist hypotheses in archaeology.
Modern First World archaeologists are not unduly bothered by this but that is
no reason why Third World archaeologists should not set them aside.
I am glad that Thapar has eventually
admitted that “so far we have no archaeological evidence to prove an invasion
by an Aryan race”. I write ‘eventually’ because it is easy to
demonstrate with reference to many early writings of Thapar that she was very
much a believer in the coming of the Aryans as a group of people bringing in
horses. However,in the same breath she writes that the “picture is complicated,
because we also do not have the evidence that the language – Old
Indo-Aryan/Vedic Sanskrit – was spoken in India prior to 1500 BC. Since this is
later than the Harappan cities, the Harappans were not Aryan-speaking. Nor do we
know the language spoken by the Harappans. However languages related to
Indo-Aryan were used in two areas. One was Old Iranian – the language of the
Zorastrians and their text called Avesta – used in northeast Iran and the other
was the language of the Hittites in northern Syria”.
Apart from the opinion that the language of the Harappans is still unknown,
everything mentioned in the above-mentioned propositions is liable to
questionings. If one takes up the question of ‘the language of the Zorastrians
and their text called Avesta ‘ first, one learns that Zorastrianism as a
religion was identified in Western scholarship early in the nineteenth century
after the details of the religion of the Parsis of Mumbai came to be known. The
existence of the religious text Avesta was known earlier. The Avesta has
several functional but chronologically disparate categories : Yasna which
denotes sacred liturgy and Gathas or hymns of Zarathushtra; Khorda-Avesta or
‘book of common prayer’; Visparad or extensions to the liturgy; Vendidad or
myths, code of purifications and religious observances; and Fragments which
cannot be put in the rest of the categories. The central portion of the Yasna
is the Gatha, supposedly composed by Zarathushtra himself. Alongside the Gathas
is the Yasna Haptanghati or ‘seven-chapter Yasna, which is as old as the Gatha
itself and a collection of prayers and hymns in honour of Ahura Mazda or the
supreme deity, the angels, fire, water and earth. The younger Yasna is written
in prose. Visparad is a supplementary text to the Yasna without any unity of
its own. Vendidad , which varies widely in its character and chronology,
enumerates various manifestations of evil spirits and ways to propitiate them.
The Yasht hymns , 21 in number, are addressed to particular divinities or
particular divine concepts. Thirty divinities are supposed to preside over
thirty days of the month and the Siroza is supposed to be their enumeration and
invocation. The final category of Khorda Avesta is a collection of verses from
the other collections.
This body of literature evolved over a long length of time, some of it
attributable to the historical periods of the Achaemenids (6th century BC) and
the Parthians (3rd century BC to 3rd century AD). The core of the Avesta has
been put towards the end of the second millennium BC, but Zarathushtra has also
been dated as late as the 7th century BC. There is no doubt a strong element of
similarity between the Rigvedic and the Avestan languages, as various
historians of the Sanskrit language argue, but whether this implies a similar
chronological point cannot be said. The geography of the Avestan literature
supposedly extends from Seistan to Merv but is also said to be focused in the
central Afghanistan highlands. In a sense, this geographical orbit was not
unfamiliar to the Indus civilization, and the persistence of an Indian language
tradition was not impossible in this orbit, whatever might have been the basic
language of this civilization. The point is that the similarity in the language
between the Avesta and the Rigveda cannot be translated in terms of a date for
the Rigveda.
The second issue of ‘the language of the Hittites in north Syria’ is equally
problematic and has been expressed clearly by P.Thiemme in his article “the
‘Aryan’ gods of the Mitanni treaties” in 1960 in Journal of the American
Oriental Society 80(4): 301-317:
“The discovery of ‘Aryan’ looking names of (Mitanni) princes on cuneiform
documents in Akkadian from the second half of the second millennium BC (chiefly
tablets from Bogazkoy and El-Amarna), several doubtlessly Aryan words in
Kikkuli’s treatise in Hittite on horse training (numerals : aika- ‘one’, tera-
‘three’, panza- ‘five’, satta – ‘seven’, na(ya) –‘nine’; appellatives :
varttana – ‘circuit’, course (in which horses move when being trained),’ aliya
–‘horse’ ), and , finally, a series of names of Aryan divinities on a
Mitanni-Hatti and a Hatti-Mitanni treaty (14th century BC), poses a number of
problems that have been reportedly discussed since the beginning of the century.”
To Thiemme the problem is whether the terms can be interpreted as “traces of
specifically Indo-Aryan speech and religion, or whether they should rather be
identified as Proto-Aryan”. He is inclined towards accepting them as
‘proto-Aryan’.
In addition, in his The Sanskrit Language T. Burrow finds a few traces of the
Sanskrit language among the documents of the Kassite dynasty of Babylon:
“In a list of names of gods with Babylonian equivalents we find a sun-god
Suriyas (rendered Samas) which must clearly be identified with Skt Surya. In
addition, Maruttas the war-god (rendered En-Urta) has been compared with Skt
Marut … Among the kings of this dynasty one has a name which can be interpreted
as Aryan : Abhirattas : abhi-ratha – ‘facing chariots in battle’.”
What emerges on the whole is the presence of a few Sanskritic deities and words
in the old Hittite territory or modern Anatolia in about 1400 BC, with margins
on either side. The similarity lies only in a few Sanskrit-sounding words in
both the Kikkuli horse-training text of c.1400 BC and the treaty between
Suppiluliuma, the Hittite king of c.1380-c.1345 BC) and Mattiwaza, the Mitanni
( southeast Anatolia and northern Syria) king of the period. The mention of the
Rigvedic gods Mitra, Varuna, Indra and the two Nasatyas occurs as a part of a
rather long list of non-Rigvedic gods and goddesses :
“the Storm-god, Lord of Heaven and Earth, the Moon-god and the Sun-god, the
Moon-god of Harran, heaven and earth, the Storm-god, Lord of the kurinnu of
Kahat, the Deity of Herds of Kurta, the Storm-god, Lord of Uhušuman, Ea-šarri,
Lord of Wisdom, Anu, Antu, Enlil, Ninlil, the Mitra-gods, the Varuna-gods,
Indra, the Nasatya-gods, Lord of Waššukanni, the Storm-god, Lord of the Temple
Platform (?) of Irrite, Partahi of Šuta, Nabarbi, Šuruhi, Ištar, Evening Star,
Šala, Belet-ekalli, Damkina, Išhara, the mountains and rivers, the deities of
heaven and the deities of earth.”
In the case of the Kikkuli text too, it is only certain words which have been
used in the context of this Mitanni text. In the Kassite documents cited by
Burrow, assuming that the Sanskritic analogies of certain words in those
documents are correct, the comparison does not extend to the level of
linguistic similarity of the type which is suggested between the Rigveda and
the Avesta.
Whether such similarities in words mark the route of the Indo-European
language-speakers to the sub-continent or mark their route out of it is a point
which cannot be decided either way. Philological research does not have any
historical marker, nor an earlier piece of this kind of philological research
gets superseded by newer versions. However, the fact of the presence of Indian
words in west Asia may not be as mysterious as it sounds. The Indus seals are
known to occur in the Kassite context in Mesopotamia and the Gulf, showing that
this civilization remained in contact with west Asia as late as the 14th
century BC. The beginning of this contact is dated as early as the Royal Graves
of Ur of c.2600 BC. Whatever might be the language or languages of the Indus
civilization, it was clearly a contact of more than a thousand years between
India and west Asia. If one remembers this simple point, one does not have to
be surprised by the presence of admittedly few Indian words in some west
Asiatic documents. In the case of the Avesta, it may be noted that the core
area of its geography from southeastern Iran to the southern central Asia lies
very much within the general orbit of contacts of the Indus civilization.
Further, the location of the site of Shortughai in the Kokcha valley north of
the Hindukush leaves no doubt about the preeminence of the role of the Indus
civilization in this region. Thus, to try to support the overarching frame of
Aryan origins and migration from Europe to India with the help of the presence
of a few Indian-sounding words in some 14th century west Asiatic documents does
not seem to be a valid or logical exercise. It is time Thapar and her kind
appreciated the rationale behind this argument.
One may be somewhat amused by Thapar’s observation that the Rigvedic people
“were cattle-herders looking for good pastures” and that “they settled wherever
ecology was suitable”. People all through history settled wherever they thought
that the ecology was suitable ; so, that is not the point. The point is whether
they were ‘cattle-herders’. That they were far more than being ‘cattle-herders’
is clear from RV.III.57 : “May the ploughshares break up our land happily ; may
the ploughman go happily with the oxen; may Parjanya (water the earth) with
sweet showers happily”.
Thapar also thinks that “we should get away from meaningless questions like,
whether the Aryan-speakers were indigenous to India”. When Indians have been
subjected, for more than a hundred years, to the opinion that the Aryan-
speakers came to India from outside and laid the basis of the Indian religion
of Hinduism and when Thapar’s fellow-travellers like R.S.Sharma write books
like “Advent of the Aryans in India” , the question cannot be as meaningless or
innocuous as Thapar makes it sound. In her dictionary “the question of
indigenous and foreign” may be “a non-question” but this has framed the
Indians’ perception of themselves for a very long time, and there is no reason
why the macabre arguments that the Indians have lived with so long should not
be thoroughly exposed for what they are worth.
I find Thapar’s emphasis on ‘freedom of expression’ very intriguing. The
historical group of which Thapar is an eminent member came into being in the
early 1970s “to give a national direction to an objective and scientific
writing of history and to have rational presentation and interpretation of
history”, as the web-site of the Indian Council of Historical Research
declared. To argue that there was no ‘objective and scientific writing of
history” till this group moved into government-sponsored power to control the
funding and job-opportunities of historical research in India was distinctly
reminiscent of a dictatorial streak in itself. By then historical research in
the country had flourished for about a century and to argue that the previous
historians were unaware of ‘objective and scientific writing of history’ was a
vicious piece of self-aggrandisement on the part of this group. In fact, since the coming of this group to power,
the world of Indian historical studies has been largely criminalised. When
Thapar preaches in favour of historical tolerance, one does feel amused.
I find it very curious that with all her pontifications in the field of ancient
India Thapar forgets to mention that the study of ancient Indian history and
archaeology is only a marginal subject in the frame of Indian historical
studies. It is difficult to be certain of this, but certainly not more than
twenty university departments offer full courses in the subject. Archaeology is
professionally taught in places whose total number does not reach even the
double-digit. The large Historical Centre which J.N.University has been running
for long and of which Thapar is a precious member does not have any
professional archaeology component. Thapar does not even bother to enquire why
the study of ancient India remains still marginalised in the Indian university
frame and why the historical departments of the Indian universities and
colleges are dominantly concerned with ‘modern’ or British India.
Another of Thapar’s inexplicable silences is about focusing on the
socio-politics of the Indian past. Thapar and her group never forget to turn to
whatever Western theories are available in a particular area, but as far as the
socio-politics of the Indian historical studies is concerned, they seem to be
completely indifferent except for shouting against the probable or improbable
signs of Hindu fundamentalism. In fact, as I have written in my Fifty Years of
Indian Archaeology (1960-2010):
Journey of a Foot Soldier, by making too much of fundamentalism, Thapar and her
fellow travellers have made fundamentalism almost respectable. The fact that
they are silent about the fundamentalism of other non-Hindu religious groups
throws clear light on what is their attitude to the Indian religious scene.
This attitude is also evident in the following formulation of hers : “If the Census
of 1882 had included a column for those who observed a cross-over kind of
religion, a mix of Hinduism, Islam and other formal religions, this column
would undoubtedly have had the largest number”. Was there ever a “cross-over
kind of religion, a mix of Hinduism, Islam and other formal religions“? Would
believers in Hindu, Islam and Christianity ever admit this ? Is Thapar’s tacit
assumption is that Hinduism would not have been shown as the religion of the
Indian majority, if only the columns of the 1882 census were framed
differently?
Thapar refers to the formation of different identities in modern India but does
not mention that it is important to understand the historical assumptions
behind the formations of such identities. For instance, if there is a Dalit
version of the history of ancient India we must understand what it is and what
is the presence or absence of historical logic behind it. The formation of
historical identities cannot be avoided, and it is only by discussing its basis
threadbare that one can focus on its true worth. In the case of India Thapar,
in an interview to the French paper Le Monde , foresaw ( cf. M.Danino in
Dialogue, April-June 2006/vol. 7, no,4) that by the end of the 21st century
India would break down into a series of small states federated within a more
viable single economic space on the scale of the subcontinent. For those of us
who refuse to play the role of a clairvoyant as far as our national fate is
concerned, we must try to understand the historical basis of ‘identities’. The
study of the socio-politics of the ancient Indian past should play an
increasing role in the understanding of the ways in which ancient Indian
history has been interpreted.
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