A case
of good nationalism
(Pragyata,
5 February 2021)
Outside
India, and in India’s secularist circles, “nationalism” counts as a bad thing,
a kind of collective self-centredness, a refusal of solidarity with the rest of
the world. In the 19th century, it counted by contrast as a form of
generous solidarity with people you didn’t know, simply because they belonged
to the same nation. The Great War of 1941-18 saw the highest tide of
nationalism. Thus, in my native Belgium, an artificial state without a soul, it
was the war that first created a national feeling, focused on war leader King
Albert I. In the inter-war years, all manner of associations for
trade-unionism, sports or even music affected military mannerisms with parades
and uniforms, an atmosphere in which the emerging authoritarian-nationalist
movements could flourish. India’s newly founded mass movement RSS (1925) followed
this same fashion, and has kept it up till today, long after it disappeared
abroad.
At the same time, the war was followed by the
emergence of a pacifist and internationalist spirit, embodied at the highest
level by the creation of the League of Nations. A number of writers expressed
this weariness of the nationalist passions that first had led to the war and
then been exacerbated by it, such as Goodbye to All That by frontline
veteran and famous classicist Robert Graves.
After World War Two, when the Axis powers had profiled themselves as fervently
nationalist (and in spite of the fact that the Allies and the Resistance
movements had done likewise), nationalism definitely went out of fashion.
Intellectuals developed a keen eye for the distortive influence that
nationalist (even more than other) passions had on history-writing.
Nationalism
in the British period
But now Dilip K. Chakrabarti, emeritus
professor of Archaeology at Cambridge UK, defends nationalism as a research
framework: Nationalism in the Study of Ancient Indian History (Aryan
Books International, Delhi). Not the fanatical nationalism of some Hindutva trolls,
but the modest and quiet nationalism visible in the colonial-age and Nehru-age
Indian historians. Their historiography simply and unsensationally paid proper
attention to the scientific and cultural achievements of Hindu civilization and
to its already ancient search for unity.
This nationalist tendency marked itself off
against the rival tendency of colonialist history. The latter would deny any
originality or agency to Indian culture, all inventions and important doctrines
borrowed from Greek or other foreign sources. This tendency persists among
today’s dominant anti-nationalist or self-described “secularist” school, for
political reasons out to belittle India’s achievements. Yet, we get to see that
the great British historians (discussed on p.76-156), as distinct from
non-historians like TB Macaulay, rarely gave signs of belittling India.
At the other end we find the traditionalists,
who were then and still are scornful of the canons of academic history. They derive
history from sources like the Puranas and take the epics literally. Ridiculed but persistent, they are impervious
to scholarship. There is for any reader of this book, or any other by
Chakravarti, no occasion for confusing him with these far-fetched chauvinists.
Chakrabarti surveys the British-age Indian historians
at length. (p.157-250). An interesting example was Rajendra Lala Mitra (p.157-173) We may quote him here for
disturbing the common Hindu chauvinist allegation that the alleged Indian lack
of historical sense is but a colonial concoction meant to belittle India. No,
it is a fact based in common observation, also by Indians themselves. Mitra is
quoted as lamenting his own civilization’s lack of historical sense: “India
never produced a Xenophon or a Thucydides, and her heroes and their mighty
exploits, her greatness and her early civilization, where they live, live but
in song (…) there are few ancient books which bear authentic dates”. (p.159)
Not that the Indians lacked a calendar system –
they had too many of them: “It was held to be a distinguishing mark for a great
sovereign to establish an era (…) But unfortunately Indian writers never
brought their systems of chronology to bear upon history; and in the absence of
chronology their history degenerated into the most inconsistent fables and
legends. (..) Almost every date is doubtful.” (p. 167)
Same remark by the greatest historian of the 20th
century, RC Majumdar, whose voluminous work is discussed in detail. (p.226-8
and p.273-287) He is quoted as diagnosing the “almost all-encompassing absence
of historical texts from the earliest times to the Muhammadan conquest” and the
“absence of a definite chronology”. (p.380) Like Mitra and Majumdar, Chakrabarti
is clearly not a nationalist in the sense of a blind glorifier of his country.
But acknowledgement of India’s weak points is all the easier as the said flaw
is compensated by the many achievements of Indian civilization. And moreover,
the admitted weakness has a silver lining: India’s record of its early history
is a bit garbled, but on the other hand it reaches deeper in time (with very
pre-Vedic histories of Manu and his successors) than comparable records in the
other great civilizations.
Indo-European
Another pioneer was Ramesh Chandra Dutta, who
“like many of the period [= late 19th], was an avid supporter
of the Aryan theory”. (p.182) He is quoted as considering the results of the
“industry, perseverance and genius” of early Indo-Europeanists like “Bopp,
Grimm, and Humboldt” as “one of the noblest and most brilliant of the century”:
the Indo-European language family. (p.183)
Today, many nationalists including Chakrabarti
himself reject the notion of Indo-European, but he concedes that back then, far
from being resented by the Indians of the day as an imperialist concoction,
they generally welcomed it, because: “The Aryan hypothesis implied that the
ruling Anglo-Saxons and the ruling Indians (at least the higher castes among
the North-Indians) belonged to the same stock and could claim a cousinship,
however removed, with their rulers.” (p.183)
But he himself is not convinced: “To the
present author, the Aryans are a historical non-issue because this is nothing
more than a historical concoction to imagine a group of all-conquering
dominating people on the model of the Europeans in the 16th-20th
centuries.” (p.9)
Like a very large number of Hindus, Chakravarti
assumes, following the AIT school, that “comparative philology” necessarily
implies the AIT; and is therefore to be shunned. He rejects not only the Aryan
Invasion/Immigration Theory but the Out-of-India Theory as well: “The so-called
‘out-of-India’ theory postulated for the Aryan origin, which is current among a
section of Indian scholars, should not mean anything historically tangible or
verifiable because the whole Aryan issue is irrelevant to the rational
understanding of ancient India.” (p.9-10)
Well, some of the historians he discusses
contradict this view. Mountstuart Elphinstone was the Governor of Mumbai Presidency before he became a historian,
which makes him formally an out-and-out colonialist. Yet, he was in two minds
about the Aryan invasion thesis. In his day (1841), the Aryan Invasion Theory
was still young (August van Schlegel posited a Caucasus homeland in 1834) and
disputed. He simply notes the dilemma whether the high castes had been invaders
or “merely a portion of one of the native states (a religious sect, for
instance) which had outstripped their fellow citizens in knowledge”. (p.115)
Then he proceeds to give a cautious answer. Even
if conquest was at the origin of the power equation in caste society, that
doesn’t make it a foreign conquest: “It is opposed to their foreign
origin that neither in the code [of Manu], nor, I believe, in the Vedas,
nor in any book that is certainly older than the code, is there any allusion to
a prior residence”. (p.115)
To be sure, there is no such recorded memory
among the other Indo-European branches either, e.g. the Germanic Edda of ca. 1200
CE knows nothing of an immigration
whereas the Out-of-India Theory (and even the still-common peri-Caucasus
homeland theory) posits their immigration into Northern Europe ca. 2500 BCE,
obviously because the long time-lapse made this forgetfulness a natural outcome.
The Aryan Invasion Theory, by contrast, posits an immigration ca. 1500 BCE and
immediately thereafter the composition of the Rg-Veda, including (at least in
the AIT school’s reading) descriptions of battles between invaders and natives.
So unlike in the Edda, especially in the Vedas we ought to find references to very
recent foreign origins, given the importance that ancient peoples in general
and Indians in particular attached to origins.
Where I completely agree with Elphinstone but
Chakrabarti does only partly, is this: “The common origin of the Sanscrit
language with those of the west leaves no doubt that there was once a
connection between the nations by whom they are used; but it proves nothing
regarding the place where such a connection subsisted, nor about the time, (…)
To say that it spread from a central point is a gratuitous assumption (…)
Where, also, could the central point be, from which a language could spread
over India, Greece and Italy, and yet leave Chaldaea, Syria and Arabia
untouched? The question, therefore, is still open. There is no reason whatever
for thinking that the Hindus ever inhabited any country but their present.”
(p.115-6)
Indeed, we agree that the Hindus came from
India. As for the Europeans, we say that the linguistically decisive part of
their ancestry came from India, whereas most Indians including Chakrabarti say
it didn’t; though essentially they don’t give a damn about these non-Indians, as
their horizon stops at the Khyber Pass. Here, persuasion will have to come from
Chakrabarti’s own field: archaeology. So far it has shown a complete absence of
indications of Aryans moving into India (as opposed to Europe, where both archaeological and genetic
evidence of the Aryan invasion is plentiful), but much less work has been done
to identify Indian emigrant traces in the Central-Asian record. These will give
more body to a scenario of Aryan expansion via a secondary homeland on the
steppes, then into Europe.
Negationism
One great merit of this book is the insider’s
account of the Leftist take-over of the education establishment, mainly during
Indira Gandhi’s 1972-77 tenure, with PN Haksar as her political secretary, Saiyid
Nurul Hasan as her Education Minister, and card-carrying Communist Prof. RS
Sharma as the first chairman of the Indian Council of Historical Research,
newly founded in 1972. (p.3-20, p.293-311, passim) Sharma’s textbook Ancient
India, the ICHR’s first, with the protest against it by archaeologist Swarajya
Prasad Gupta, was the first salvo in the ‘textbook controversy’ that has never
really died down ever since.
As for his own experience: “In several Indian universities that I can
think of – Delhi University, for instance -- students were positively
discouraged to read those ‘nationalist’ writings” (p.4), i.e. sober
India-minded historians like RC Majumdar. Chakrabarti himself served at Delhi
University for a while, and was the target of Communist slander there. Editing A
History of Ancient India in 2013, he found that major publishers refused,
slated contributors withdrew etc.: “cancel culture”.
After SP Gupta, a very small handful of minor publications
dealt with this Communist coup against objective historiography. Then “the
first major criticism of the ‘left-liberal’ or ‘progressive’ historians was
made by Arun Shourie with special reference to the state of the ICHR in their
control.” (p.11, referring to Shourie’s 1998 book Eminent Historians. Their
Technology, Their Line, Their Fraud) The title Eminent Historians
refers to how they call each other to pull rank against the non-conformist
historians mostly excluded from an academic career; it is also pun on a
colonial-age book title, Eminent Victorians. The book documented the
eminent historians’ misuse of the lavish subsidies they received, and focused
on their systematic history manipulation.
Though “these earlier scholars never
transcended the limits of objective historical research in their championing of
some nationalist premises” and “in no case did they try to glorify ancient India
at the expense of objectivity”, yet “the communists launched a propaganda war against
the earlier scholars by styling themselves ‘progressives’ as opposed to the
‘revivalist’ and ‘regressive’ Indian scholars of the earlier generations. They
did not find the necessity of citing facts to support their contention”.
(p.381) The Left purposely conflates Bhāratīya Vidyā Bhavan (that
published RC Majumdar’s magnum opus) historians with the eccentric Bhāratīya
Itihās Saṇkalan Yojanā history-rewriters. They also portrayed themselves,
though power-wielders, as oppressed.
Thus, DN Jha’s Myth of the Holy Cow
(Verso, 2002) tried to shock the Hindus, who protested. So Jha roped in
worldwide sympathy by presenting himself as a victim of Hindu fanaticism. Yet
the case of historian Rajendra Lala Mitra’s 1881 book Indo-Aryans, with
the same message, had not led to any persecution. (p.169) The Hindu public had
had no problem with the message that Hindu norms had been different 3000 years
ago compared to today; only with the Hindu-bashing that Jha added to it.
Did the scene change under Narendra Modi, the
supposed Hindu fanatic? Not quite: under BJP rule, no counter-strategy was
developed, and the much-discussed problem of “Right-wing history rewriting”
remains a figment of the feverish Leftist imagination: “The communists had a
free run so far, their opponents being no match in the psychological warfare
launched by the communists. These opponents have had the control of the ICHR
uninterruptedly since 2014 but they have basically been unable to neutralize
the communist lobby in Indian historical studies. They are not motivated enough
and focused enough. They regrettably are not even professional enough to
realize where the communists have to be hurt to their disadvantage. They remain
content by merely uttering platitudes about the Aryans or the Sarasvati. In the
latter entreprise they regrettably have been joined by a large number of people
who have never taken a day’s course in historical studies on a professional
level.” (p.382)
To sum up: this book is a very
good overview of the main trends in Indian historiography. It introduces the
main conflicts within the field, marking these for future in-depth studies. The
Left would have liked us to ignore their motivated power-grab, but after this
book, this will become impossible.
Dilip K.
Chakrabarti: Nationalism in the Study of Ancient Indian History, Aryan
Books International, Delhi 2020, 398 pp., ISBN 978-81-7305-648-2, Rs 995.
Read more!