My speech at the Allahabad conference on Vedic pluralism
(On 16-18 February 2016, the Sanskrit Department of Allahabad University
hosted an international conference on the Rg-Vedic verse Ekam sad viprā bahudhā
vadanti. I was invited to participate in the opening ceremony, before the
serious work began. My talk strikes a lighter note but nonetheless makes a few
points, one even fully original and appreciated as such by the
audience.)
Bhadrajanāḥ,
Mama nāma Kūnrāḍ Elst asti, aham Pascimadvīpād Beljamdeśād
āgatosmi.
Unfortunately, that is about all the Spoken Sanskrit I can muster. I only
learned the
Devabhāśā as a literary language, a storehouse of political
and philosophical insights and terminology, but not as a daily medium of
communication. For anything more sophisticated, I will have to switch to a
language in which I can express my thoughts more comfortably.
Isliye, mein
abhī Angrezī me bol duṁgā. Kṣamā kījiye.
However, I do have the intention of learning spoken Sanskrit properly after
my retirement, so that I have mastered it by the time I die. That way, when I go
to heaven, I will be able to converse with
Varuṇa,
Mitra and the
other gods shining brightly up there.
Pluralism
We are gathered here to ponder on the Rg-Vedic verse
Ekam sad viprā
bahudhā vadanti, “Reality is one, the sages formulate it in many ways”, or:
“Truth is one, the sages give it many names.”
We are here in the city of Allahabad, founded in 1575, by Moghul emperor
Akbar, who was posthumously turned into the patron saint of Indian secularism.
More recently, it became famous as the homebase of first PM Jawaharlal Nehru,
the theoretician and propagator of “secularism”. The temptation must be palpable
to treat this maxim as the cornerstone of this uniquely Indian ideology. Indeed,
whenever it is brought up in the public debate nowadays, it is as an argument of
authority for secularism. Yet, it voices a rather different idea: pluralism. Let
me explain.
In its European countries of origin, secularism (French:
laicité)
wanted to be a way to contain the Christian Churches, to make and keep the State
free from interference by the Church. In the budding United States, the emphasis
was slightly different: to keep the Churches free from interference by the
State. At any rate, the core idea was separation of Church and State. The most
fundamental characteristic of a secular state is the equality of all its
citizens before the law, regardless of religion.
In that sense, India is not a secular state at all. Its Constitution mandates
quite a bit of State interference in religious laws and institutions, at least
those of the Hindus, and formally as well as effectively discriminates against
its religious majority.
It does not satisfy the very first criterion of a
secular state, viz. the legal equality of all citizens regardless of religion.
On the contrary, in family matters, there are different sets of laws for Hindus,
Muslims, Christians and Parsis. The most famou example is of course that a
Muslim man can have four wives, others cannot. The discrimination lies not only
in the the State’s perpetuation of a consequential inequality, but also in the
genesis of that inequality through State intervention, viz. by the abolition of
polygamy where it existed in Hindu society versus its deliberate non-abolition
among Muslims. One can recognize an incompetent India-watcher by his pompous
claim that “India is secular state”. It is not, period.
Fortunately, that is not what our verse is about. It is not about secularism,
whether genuine or Nehruvian. It is all about pluralism, not plurality and
co-existence of different law systems, but legitimate co-existence of different
viewpoints.
Thus, a person may be given a passport name at birth. In intimate circles, he
also acquires a house-name. Among his friends he may get a nick-name. When he
succeeds in life, he is given a title, or be named after an award he earns. If
he is a writer, he may be known by a pen-name. In China and other civilizations,
he may later receive a postumous name. Moreover, he may be described as some’s
son, someone’s brother, father, boss, employee, neighour. But all these names
refer to the same person. Many names, one reality. And likewise with Ultimate
Reality.
Quotations out of context
When I get to hear a famous quotation, I would want to know its context: both
the phrases surrounding it and its place in life (German:
Sitz im Leben).
For famous quotations have a way of, let us say, emancipating themselves from
the author’s original intention. They may even come to mean the very
opposite.
Thus, having come all the way from the West, I am often reminded here of
Rudyard Kipling’s verse: “East is East and West is West, and never the twain
shall meet.” It is one of the most famous poems in English but was written in
India; Kipling was a native Mumbaikar. However, as it stands here, the verse
means just the opposite from what he had in mind, and this becomes clear from
the context:
But
there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When
two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the
earth!
So,
in simple prose: the eastern point and western point of the compass will never
meet, alright, but when two people of calibre encounter each other, the
accidents of birth are not of much consequence anymore.
Ahiṁsa
paramo dharma,
“non-violence is the highest ethics/righteousness”, is another quotation cut in
half to suit contemporary purposes. In a Gandhian context, it has come to stand
for absolute pacifism. But in the original Mahābhārata, it is only half
the picture: the other half is dharma hiṁsa tathaiva ca, “and righteous
violence”. So, non-violence in some situations, but righteous violence in
others. And that happens to be far more realistic.
Suppose
you are walking in a quiet forest lane, and suddenly you are set upon by a gang
of rapists. Before the worst can happen, a knight in shining armour appears on
the scene, beats up the rapists and puts them to flight. Wouldn’t you be
grateful for this bit of “righteous violence”? Wouldn’t you at once trade all
the Gandhian pieties for this bit of forceful salvation? To be sure, it is still
the lesser evil, we have to keep striving for a system in which violence is
completely unnecessary. Yet provisionally, in the real world, violence may still
be the lesser evil compared to full adharma, unrighteousness.
Vasudhaiva
kutumbakam,
“the whole world is one family”, is a very oft-quoted verse, and very much taken
out of context. It nowadays functions as the creed of Hinduism, at least for
public consumption. Hindus often think it has been taken from the Vedas or from
the Bhagavad Gītā, but it comes from a fable collection, the
Hitopadeśa. And there, its meaning is not that positive.
When
a jackal targets a deer for his meal and cleverly wins its trust, a crow gets
alerted by the sinister sight of this sudden interloper. However, the jackal
protests that suspicion is misplaced: vasudhaiva kutumbakam! The crow has
to bow out, but remains vigilant from a distance. When the jackal finally tries
to strike, the deer is saved by the crow’s intervention. Moral of the story:
only a knave would assert, and a fool believe, that “the whole world is one
family”. Fortunately there are still a few clever skeptics who don’t let down
their guard, and who see through this unrealistic maxim. I wonder what it says
about modern Hindus that they all run away with this saying and even advertise
it as the essence of their worldview.
Instead,
I stand by another Sanskrit maxim. It is one that can’t be shaken by any
possible context, because it is always a reliable guiding principle:
Satyameva jayate, “truth verily triumphs”, “truth shall prevail”. This is
from the Muṇḍaka Upaniṣad, and nothing in the context gives a different
or contrary message. It has become India’s national motto, and I feel so
strongly about it that I have put in on my business card. When it conflicts with
more popular phrases, I will drop those others any time.
And
now, let us see what this care about the context would mean for the maxim that
we have thematized for this conference.
Polytheism
The
oft-quoted part of our mantra (RV 1:164:46) says that: Ekam sad viprā
bahudhā vadanti,
and is nowadays read as an affirmation that a single reality underlies seeming
plurality But the mantra further says (and then sums up in the quoted part) that
they worship this reality as Indra, as Yama, as Mātarīśvan,
as Garutman, as Agni and other gods. That is to say: it affirms a
form of religion we know as polytheism. According to this verse, it is perfectly
alright to picture the divine as a heavenly bird Garutman, or as a fire
(Agni), or as any of many other forms.
This
bears emphasizing, as during the last two centuries there have been many Hindu
“reformers” and “modernists” who contrived to define Hinduism as “monotheistic
too”. That is to say, monotheistic like the Christian or Islamic role model. In
evaluating a doctrine, most people are guided not by its truth but by its
effectiveness as a social passport, as a gateway to status. So, when monotheism
became prestigious, many Hindus started saying: Hinduism too is monotheistic.
Indeed, this very verse is often given as proof of the Vedas’ “monotheism”. See,
the seeming manifoldness of the Vedic gods hides an underlying “one God”, so we
are as good as them!
It
seems that Hindus (at least the unrooted ones who try to live up to borrowed
ideals) are eagerly appropriating words which they do not properly understand,
such as "monotheism"; and which they would not consider so desirable it they did
understand them. In Bible and Quran, it is said that there is only one God and
others are false. Is that what you would want to venerate as the Vedic doctrine?
In this verse, however, there is no such thing as a “false god”, on the
contrary. In Bible and Quran, there is said to be only one God and no others,
but here it is said that He is the same as the others, and that they are all
legitimate. After all, the sages use many names, right?
Underlying
this polytheism, there is a oneness, a common essence, “one reality” indeed. And
yet, the more conformistic Hindus who try to live up to the norm set by
Christianity or Islam, are wrong to deduce that “Hinduism is also monotheist”.
They are “me too” monotheists; at least, if they are monotheists. Like
the Ārya Samāj, who translate every one of the Vedic god-names as “God”
and thus declare themselves monotheists. Hopefully they simply haven’t realized
that monotheism would mean you do not allow pluralism. That is what it has
always meant for Christians and Muslims: smash the statues and temples and
rituals reminding the people of Jupiter, of Apollo, of Horus, of Ishtar and
Marduk. Is that Hinduism? Is that (and I will now use it positively: )
secularism?
The
Vedas would say: “They call it Jupiter, they call it Apollo, they call it Horus,
they call it Ishtar, they call it Marduk: the sages call the one reality by many
names.”
Really
becoming monotheists would mean for Hindus, rewriting the (say) Hanumān
Cālīsā, and inserting into it an injunction: “Hanumān wants you to go
and destroy the temples of Śiva! And destroy the statues of
Sarasvatī too, and the sculptures of the rest of them. Hanumān
alone!” For a “monotheist” is not someone who worships one god – sticklers for
precision in the science of religion would call that a “henotheist”. A Hindu who
worships a chosen deity is not a “monotheist” but a henotheist. (And usually a
“serial henotheist” at that, sometimes worshipping other gods as well.) A monotheist
worships one god to the exclusion of all others: they are deemed false and/or
evil.
The Greek word monos
does not mean “one”, it means “one alone”. It is not inclusive but exclusive. It
is the very opposite of what our Vedic verse expresses. That mantra is not
directed against anything, but if at all you want to bring monotheism into the
picture, then it is against monotheism.
Dīrghatamas
The
verse we are considering, was written by one of the earliest Vedic seers, the
ṛṣi Dīrghatamas, in the last one of his 25 hymns, the “Riddle Hymn” (RV
1:164) His name means “long darkness” and this is sometimes explained as
referring to blindness. However, he is also known for his astronomical insights
(including the first-ever division of the heavenly circles in 360°, on top of
that in 12), and it is hard to do astronomy when you’re blind. Rather,
“blindness” seems to have been an accepted circumlocution referring to a certain
attitude of deep concentration and piercing research. The Greek poet Homer was
likewise described as “blind”.
Two
very basic ideas pervading Hindu thought first find expression in
Dīrghatamas: renunciation and monism. To be sure, these may even be
older, it is by no means certain that he invented either of them. But he has the
distinction of being the first one to articulate them.
Renunciation
is the guiding idea of the verse (RV 1:164:20) where he contrasts two birds in a
tree: one eats the berries, the other merely looks on. One man enjoys life, the
other merely contemplates. This is the foundation of the entire science of
meditation, India’s greatest gift to the world. Numerous later thinkers
developed it further and founded their own schools of meditation, but its
essence is already encapsulated in this verse.
Monism
is what finds expression in the verse under consideration: Ekam sad
viprā bahudhā vadanti.
It characterizes what underlies the multiplicity of viewpoints and ways of
understanding as a single reality. It is unity in diversity. It is the
integration of the many into the one.
The belief that a visible plurality masks a deeper oneness was part of the Vedic
outlook since the very beginning.
A
third idea that may also stem from the Riddle Hymn, and that has strongly marked
Hindu tradition throughout, is Dīrghatamas’ notion of the “syllable”,
apparently the Oṁ sound. Given the context, with mother cows expressing
their tenderness (vatsalya) for their young by lowing at them, and the
young lowing back, it looks like the unspoken syllable is another vocalization
of Mooh. But I am confident that this august company of Sanskrit scholars
has a loftier explanation. Then again, the Vedic sages must have had a lot more
humour than their bookish descendants.
In
the West, it is said that the whole tradition of philosophical thought is but a
series of footnotes on the Greek philosopher Plato (whom you might know from
Urdu sources as Aflatūn). Here, you could say that all Indian thought is
but a series of footnotes on Dīrghatamas.
Islam
Now
we come to the point where I should start saying the very thing you have gotten
me here for. I came thousands of miles to brook the subject that all Hindus seem
to be afraid of. Well, not all Hindus, but at least those who are into
interreligious dialogue. That subject is Islam.
Tomorrow,
this conference, this hall, this very table, will feature an interreligious
forum. There will be a Buddhist and some other Dharmics, as if they are the ones
with whom problems of coexistence have to be resolved. There will be a
representative of Christianity, already a bit touchier. But the real elephant in
the room is of course Islam. When it is emphasized before a Hindu audience that
ekam sad viprā bahudhā vadanti, it means effectively: don’t you Hindus
dare to harbour suspicions against Islam! Hindus have to suspend their opinions
of Islam, but no one dares formulate just what opinions Muslims should suspend
regarding Hinduism.
Frankly,
I wonder just what they sermonize on these occasions against Muslims to make
them more appreciative of Hinduism. Hindus always justify their acts of “Muslim
appeasement” by saying: “But we have to live with them!” It seems they never
think about its logical counterpart: teach them to live with us. And I wonder
what verse from the Quran they intone to propagate an interreligious
understanding among Muslims.
I
will not embarrass anyone by asking the question whether such is also the
intention behind this conference, and of course I remain perfectly willing to
get convinced otherwise. But until then, I believe the Hindu psychology of
Muslim appeasement is so strong that even the present organizers have not been
able to escape it. Indeed, a Hindu present here in the audience asked me this
very morning not to go into the Ayodhya controversy, about which I have
published, as there would also be one Muslim present. (I certainly am going to
mention Ayodhya, but not the controversy.)
One
Muslim among hundreds of Hindus, and already Hindus want to conceal their
opinions. Already all those Hindus are ready to bend over backwards to please
that one Muslim, without even asking him! This must be an underground society,
used to living in hiding. And yet, what for? Are they “Islamophobic”, meaning
“afraid” of Islam?
Well,
I am not. I don’t think Muslims are a bunch of humourless touch-me-nots who
freak out as soon as you mention the rougher edges of pluralism. I will not
alter my speech just because one Muslim is present, or many Muslims, or only
Muslims. They are our own countrymen, they are fellow human beings born with the
same capacities and propensities. A certain conditioning by a certain religious
doctrine has formed a surface layer, but deep down they are the same. So,
address Muslims not at the level of their indoctrination, but at the deeper
level of their general humanity.
I
am here to join in this effort and make everybody feel that we are in the same
boat together. Since we have already done so much to satisfy Hindu tastes
(lighting lamps, garlands, coconuts, a Sarasvatī statue), let us now say
certain things that Muslims would feel good about.
People
who know my critical work on Moḥammed (Arabic: “The praised one”) would
not lend me any credibility if I started praising him. Yet, there is one merit
of his that I greatly recommend. As you might know, he was an orphan, brought up
by relatives. While they looked after him with one hand, they deprived him of
his parental inheritance with the other. And so, Mohammed remained very
sensitive to this problem and always emphasized that you should not deprive
children of their inheritance. Well, in this respect at least, we should all be
followers of Mohammed: don’t lose your rightful inheritance. Don’t let them make
you embrace any artificial imposition instead of what is naturally yours. Stay
true to your legacy, to your roots.
Otherwise, I may have my second thoughts about
Mohammed, but for now, let us focus on Allah. Indeed, I am all for Allah. If
there is one thing great about Islam, it is Allah. Nay, He is not merely
“great”, he is “greater”.
Allāh, the ilāh
Let us analyze the word
Allāh, as students of the
devabhāśā
would. You may know that
Deva, “god”, literally means “bright one”. Now,
the bright ones living in heaven are of course the stars. And indeed, in
Sumerian hieroglyphics, five thousand years ago, the concept of “god” was
rendered as a radiant star. This sign was pronounced
Dingir in Sumerian,
and
El in Akkadian Semitic. It is the same
El that we find,
through Hebrew, in
Gabriel (“My strength is God”),
Uriel (“My
light is God”), or
Michael (“Who is like God?”).
Now, this
El is rendered into a generic substantive (cfr. god >
godhead, deus > deity,
deva >
devatā): Hebrew
eloha,
Arabic
ilāh. In Arabic, then, this generic noun is coupled with the
article
al to become
al-ilāha, “the deity”, “the god par
excellence”. This expression is contracted to become a name again:
Allāh,
“thé god”, “God”.
As you all know, Allah is great. And even greater:
Allāh akbar, “Allah
is greater”. The phrase has gained a bit of a bad name, but in fact it is quite
profound. Muslims often use it as a reminder that their plans and designs may
ever be so clever, but it is God Who has the last word. In those instances, it
is a sign of humility. No matter how important a given concern may be, it is
always dwarfed by the divine.
The name
Allāh acquired the monotheistic meaning of “only God” with
the Islamization of Arabia in the 620s. Before that, it had a generic meaning.
Thus, it is described how someone kneels down before a statue of the moon-god
Hubal and then “prays to
Allāh”, i.e. “prays to
the deity
before him”, viz.
Hubal. So, the word
Allāh belongs in the
polytheist landscape.
This moon-god
Hubal presided over the
Ka’ba, the shrine built
around a meteor stone fallen from heaven. In an unsculpted stone, Hindus will
readily recognize the
Śivaliṅgam, the symbol of the moon-carrying god
(
Candradhāra), the Lord of the Moon (
Somanātha),
Śiva.
Hubal’s or
Śiva’s crescent has become the main symbol of
Allāh. And like
Śiva, “the deity”
Hubal comes with a triad
of goddesses: in India they are
Pārvatī,
Durgā and
Kālī, in
Arabia
al-Lāt (<
al-Ilāhat, “thé goddess”, the sun),
al-‘Uzza (“the strong one”, the planet Venus) and
al-Manāt (“fate,
doom”, the night). Remark how in Arabic, like in German, the word “sun” is
conceived as female, the word “moon” as male, which facilitates the
personification of the moon as the god
Hubal, and of the sun as the
goddess
al-Lāt.
I don’t know if Hindus and Muslims are all that different, but Indians and
Arabs clearly are not. Their religious imaginations have generated very parallel
families of gods.
Among Hindus with an excitable fantasy, this has led to the belief that “the
Ka’ba used to be a
Śiva temple”. This is exaggerated, but through
the theme of the moon-god,
Śiva does have a link with the
Ka’ba.
Indian traders visiting Arabia used to worship there, and Arabs used to worship
at the
Somnāth temple on the Gujarat coast. Later,
Mahmud Ghaznavī
believed that the Arab goddesses, chased out of Arabia by the Prophet, had found
refuge there.
So, it is not at all far-fetched to sing:
Īśvar-
Allāh tere nām,
“
Īśvara (=
Śiva) and
Allāh are equally your names". The
Gandhians and Nehruvians have churned out a lot of nonsense, such as the
absurdity that “all religions are equally true”; but they are right to repeat
this songline. Nor is it weird to go on pilgrimage to the
Ka’ba in
Makka, just as Hindu pilgrims go to
Ayodhyā, to
Sabarimalai, to mount
Kailāś, or indeed, at the time of the
Kumbha Melā, to
Ilāhābād. The
Ḥajj pilgrimage existed since
long before Islam, which has only borrowed it, and it deserves to be
perpetuated. (This should not be done through a “Hajj subsidy” though, not at
tax-payer’s expense, for that defeats the whole purpose of a pilgrimage,
intended as a form of sacrifice.)
In the West, some anti-Muslim crusaders are saying that we should bomb the
Ka’ba. On the contrary, we should ensure that it remains unharmed and
honoured as a sacred site. Indeed, like
Gurū Nānak before us, we should
go there ourselves. An armed expedition will do no more good than the Western
military interventions in Iraq and Libya, which have turned out totally
disastrous and counterproductive. What the Muslim world needs is not even more
polarization and war. What it needs is a thaw. In a situation of peace and
prosperity, the minds can evolve. People can then expand their perspectives and
learn about the spirituality that their neighbours have to offer. For starters,
they can practise the meditation techniques that Sri Sri Ravi Shankar is now
offering all over the Middle East. So, as an unapologetic Islam critic, I am
nonetheless emphatically wishing the Muslims
salām, “peace”.
The Dīn-i-Ilāhī
Emperor Akbar, already at age thirteen a
ghazī (“raider against the
infidels”) reputed to have killed the Hindu emperor
Hemacandra with his
own hands, gradually grew away from Islam. He started his own private and
non-dogmatic religion: the
Dīn-i-Ilāhī, the “religion of the deities” or
the “divine religion”. A Sanskrit translation could be
Daivika Dharma.
And who could be against that? Not
Mitra, the lord of the day-sky, nor
Varuṇa, lord of the night-sky. Nor
Uśā, lady of the dawn, for that
matter. All the 33 Vedic gods smiled when crude monotheism had to make way for
this
Daivika Dharma, this
Dīn-i-Ilāhī.
This step was not without risks, however, since court cleric
Aḥmad
Sirhindī denounced it as “blasphemy”. After Akbar’s death, it would wither
away under the reassertion of orthodoxy. Yet, it was based on a commendable and
correct observation: that no religious doctrine can claim a monopoly of the
truth. This observation was very close to our maxim
Ekam sad viprā bahudhā
vadanti.
In the spirit of this new religion, he called the city he founded
Ilāhābād, “city of the deity”, “divine city”. It lay on one of the most
sacred places of Hinduism, the
saṅgam (confluence) of
Gaṅgā en
Yamunā. The British interpreted the name wrongly as
Allāhābād ,
with the Arabic article
al-. But another explanation is possible, and we
will invent it herewith.
The
foremother Ilā
“On
the saṅgam
is a city / where the girls are so pretty /…”
At
least five thousand years before Akbar, this area was the habitat of
Ilā, the daughter and eldest child of Manu. He in turn was
the founding patriarch of
mankind, or at least of a part of it. His daughter, in spite of
her primogeniture, had to leave the succession to the throne to her younger
brother Ikṣvāku, who stayed in the paternal capital Ayodhyā and
founded the Solar dynasty. Being myself an eldest son but second child, I know
how it must have felt: Ikṣvāku always looked up to his elder sister and
felt a bit indebted to her.
On
her part, Ilā moved out to Pratiṣṭhānapura, next to the virgin
land where Akbar was to build his divine city. This is where her son
Purūravas founded the Lunar Dynasty.
One
descendant of theirs, Nahuśa, moved westwards to the Sarasvatī
valley, where one of his own descendants was Yayāti, after whose five
sons the “five tribes” were named. Pūru headed the central Paurava
tribe. One of his progeny was Bharata, after whom India is still called
Bhāratavarṣa. In his clan grew a tradition of composing hymns, and these
were collected in the Vedas. Later sources describe Dīrghatamas as his
court priest. The Vedic seers rightly glorified their ancestress Ilā, who
became a goddess and member of a typical goddess triad: Ilā,
Bhāratī and Sarasvatī.
So
many cities have already been renamed, and I will presently propose to rename
Ilāhābād as well, viz. as, well, Ilāhābād. It can retain its name,
that saves us all the renaming on road maps, street signs and letterheads. Only,
it would get a new interpretation: “city of Ilā”. So, after her, this
city’s name should be re-analyzed as Ilā-h-ābād, “city of
Ilā”.
Normal rules of phonetic harmony would contract this into
Ilābād,
but that could also refer to an ābād founded by a man named Ila
(short -a). So to make sure that we know a lady is being eternalized in this
divine city, we intersperse a /h/ sound, like a sigh of joy, and make it into
Ilāhābād.
Hospitable
people of Ilāhābād, and especially you, ladies of
Ilāhābād,
I salute you as carriers of the heritage of the Vedic grandmother
Ilā. Without her, no Dīrghatamas would have been there
to compose the verse: Ekam sad viprā bahudhā vadanti.
As the Prophet has enjoined: don’t let your rightful
inheritance be snatched away from you. Revive Ilā’s
memory and continue the work she began: the Vedic civilization, no less.
Thank you all.