Is Hinduism Pagan ?

 

This post was inspired by an earlier post of X.T.M where he mentioned that this question generates a lot of traffic for BP.

If we consider the literal definition of Paganism, the question becomes quite simple. Historically, the term “Paganism” was not used to describe religious beliefs prior to the 20th century. It first emerged in the context of Early Christianity, serving as a pejorative for the folk religions still practiced in the rural regions of the Roman Empire. By this definition, it’s clear that Hinduism does not fit the label of Pagan.

However, in contemporary usage, many Neo-pagans view Paganism as a neutral descriptive term, applicable to all cultures that are philosophically incompatible with the three Abrahamic faiths. The question whether Hinduism can be considered Pagan in this broader sense is not so simple since most Hindus assert belief in a singular God or multiple manifestations of one God (30 percent and 60 percent, according to PEW surveys).

To start answering this question, we need to pinpoint the philosophical foundation of Hinduism. Thankfully, this isn’t too complicated, as several Vedic verses touch on this theme (e.g. Brihadaranyaka 4.4.18 and 4.4.22), all leading to the same conclusion. These verses indicate that the essence of all spiritual paths in ancient India revolves around Adhyatma (the doctrine of enlightened self). The central concept of Adhyatma is Atman—an ancient, observer consciousness believed to be deeply embedded within each of us. The ultimate aim is to attain Moksha, i.e. to awaken and realize this concealed enlightened self. Now, if we were to bring the God of Abraham and Atman together on a talk show, asking them to explain their doctrines to the audience, it might go like this:

God : I am the all powerful God. 
Atman : I am your peaceful inner self.

God : I am the true creator of everything that you perceive.
Atman : I am the true experiencer of all that you perceive.

God : Submit to me unconditionally and obey all my commands.
Atman : Become one with me and be liberated.

God : If you are loyal to me I will take to heaven after you die.
Atman : Whenever you see yourself as me, the Earth looks like heaven.

God : Initiate force against others if they oppose your faith.
Atman : Mix with others if they oppose initiation of force.

Even in these highly simplified versions one can clearly see that the Atman doctrine is Pagan if we apply the more inclusive definition of Paganism. It can also be viewed as a branch of Pantheism. In Adhyatma the analogue of impersonal supreme God is Brahman, the entire universe seen from an enlightened perspective. Since experiencing Brahman is same as experiencing one’s Atman, many experience oriented spiritual traditions use them as interchangeable terms. So when Hindus talk about one God, the are referring to the impersonal God, not the God of Abraham.

New DNA research paper sheds light on proto-Dravidian and Indus Valley Civilization genetics.

Disclaimer

Please note I am a dentist — not a geneticist — and I do not claim formal expertise in this field. I have a long-standing interest in history and look to archaeogenetics as one of the best tools available for addressing some of the most enduring questions about South Asian origins and identity.

Credit is due to the many researchers, bloggers, and science communicators who have made this field accessible — including Razib Khan (whom I haven’t met, though he happens to be a fellow Bengali), who’s writing first inspired me to engage deeply with these questions.
Continue reading New DNA research paper sheds light on proto-Dravidian and Indus Valley Civilization genetics.

Musings on & Answers to “The Partition of Elites: India, Pakistan, and the Unfinished Trauma of 1947” (Part 3)

Part 2

Continuing on, X.T.M says that “India’s post-Independence settlement created structural ambiguity” and cites four factors in particular:

  • Upper-caste Hindu political dominance at the center
  • Muslim demographic concentrations with limited elite integration
  • A constitutional secularism that promised equality while leaving communal structures intact
  • No acknowledgment that the Muslim League’s victory posed a legitimacy problem

I think his key insight is this: “The constitution guaranteed rights. It could not guarantee renewed political consent.”

The issue as I see it is that the Indian state took the most half-hearted, wishy-washy approach towards the problem of integration. It allowed Muslims to construct bastions of political power while at the same time dividing Hindus along caste and linguistic lines. It allowed criminal elements, many from a Muslim background, to dominate perhaps its most significant sector — the arts — and spread messages of the innate goodness of Indian Muslims and Pakistanis (which is only being suppressed due to both governments’ actions) and the need for peace between Hindus and Muslims, thereby constructing an illusory palace to beguile secularized urban Hindus, while behind the silver screen they fund terrorist attacks in India. The murder of Gulshan Kumar comes to mind as (seemingly) among the least of these crimes, but that he was killed outside a temple is like having salt poured into the wound and mud slung at one’s face. What to speak of 26/11 which has already been talked about, especially recently.

Again, as I mentioned previously, I don’t think the overwhelming issue is that Muslims were allowed to maintain particular political fiefdoms — it’s that Hindus were stymied from establishing systems of political power based on traditional models. When talking about ‘independence’, Moldbug (2008) in chapter 2 of An Open Letter to Open-Minded Progressives suggests that:

“One test we can apply for independence, which should be pretty conclusive, is that the structures of government in a genuinely independent country should tend to resemble the structures that existed before it was subjugated—rather than the structures of some other country on which it may happen to be, um, dependent. These structures should be especially unlikely to resemble structures in other newly independent countries, with which it presumably has nothing in common.”

Continue reading Musings on & Answers to “The Partition of Elites: India, Pakistan, and the Unfinished Trauma of 1947” (Part 3)

Musings on & Answers to “The Partition of Elites: India, Pakistan, and the Unfinished Trauma of 1947” (Part 2)

Part 1

Let’s take a look at the other theses put forth by X.T.M in this piece.

His second thesis is that “The Muslim League won. Then most Muslims stayed.”

How should we understand this? It could be said the sons of Abraham — and perhaps especially those in the line of Ishmael — are meant to stay untethered from bonds to the land upon which they live, seeing as they are (at least supposedly), nomads from the sand? I think the best description of the Islamic invaders of India comes from Deleuze & Guattari’s Anti-Oedipus (1972/1977). Speaking of the ‘Barbarian Despotic Machine’ which supplants the ‘Primitive Territorial Machine’ (which I take to be synonymous with localized Hindu communities, even if it isn’t a perfect fit):

“The founding of the despotic machine or the barbarian socius can be summarized in the following way: a new alliance and direct filiation. The despot challenges the lateral alliances and the extended filiations of the old community. He imposes a new alliance system and places himself in direct filiation with the deity: the people must follow. A leap into a new alliance, a break with the ancient filiation—this is expressed in a strange machine, or rather a machine of the strange whose locus is the desert
” (p. 192)

Continue reading Musings on & Answers to “The Partition of Elites: India, Pakistan, and the Unfinished Trauma of 1947” (Part 2)

Musings on & Answers to “The Partition of Elites: India, Pakistan, and the Unfinished Trauma of 1947” (Part 1)

This post by X.T.M has brought up some important points that Indians (and, by extension, Hindus) need to wrestle with. The author’s foundational hypothesis is that “India’s central trauma is not diversity. It is Partition.”

I don’t think I’ve ever read such a succinct diagnosis trying to get to the root of India’s issues, much less such a novel one (at least to me). For these reasons, if nothing else, I think X.T.M’s idea merits a deeper look.

I am largely in agreement with the author that diversity in and of itself is not at the heart of India’s troubles if only because it seems to have always been a factor in Indian society for as far back as we have history. Indeed, “diversity” and differentiation seem to me to be a mark of the continuity of Indian civilization from the earliest days of our forefathers. If this, our patrimonial diversity, has become a bane to India, it is to the India that plays at being a modern nation-state, democracy, and republic — not to the India of uncountable Gods, saints, and heroes, each at the heart of their world, ruling over the innumerable hamlets that dot the country and the uncountable kindreds that dwell within them. As Diana Eck (2012) puts it: “The profusion of divine manifestation is played in multiple keys as the natural counterpart of divine infinity, incapable of being limited to any name or form, and therefore expressible only through multiplication and plurality.” (India: A Sacred Geography, p. 48).

It is the second half of the author’s initial hypothesis that I think is the most important bit to dissect. Something about this diagnosis does not strike me as entirely accurate.

It is true that Partition split the Indian folk, namely, Hindus and Muslims, but the shape that this split took is a rather curious and, at least for me, unexpected one. According to the Pew Research Center’s June 29, 2021 report titled Religion in India: Tolerance and Segregation (Sahgal et al.), when asked whether Partition was a good or a bad thing for Hindu-Muslim relations in a 2019 survey, 43% of Indian Hindus saw it as good while 37% of them saw it as bad. Indian Muslims? Quite the opposite. Only a third (30%) of them saw it as helping communal relations while almost half (48%) saw it as actually harmful.

While Partition may have been the bloody birth pangs of the Indian State and been a very real source of deep pain to the actual humans affected by it, what ails the folks of India is, I think, altogether something else. As to what exactly this is, I will come back to it towards the end of this essay.

X.T.M’s second hypothesis is something I actually agree with. such as the idea that the “two peoples” (Hindus and Muslims) could have lived together. We have seen time and time again that incomers to India have, over time, flowed into the great folksea that ebbs and flows upon our lands like trickles of glacial melt joining with the ocean, at once both one and sundry.

There is data to support this as well. In the same Pew report I cited above (Sehgal et al., 2021), the researchers found that while both Hindus and Muslims wish for segregation in their personal lives, as can be seen in the high percentage (over two-thirds) of both groups who want to stop intermarriage, the fact that most Indians’ friends tend to be from their own religious communities, and 45% of Hindus would not want a neighbour from at least one of the other major religions (Hindu, Sikh, Jain, Buddhist, Muslim, & Christian) — a figure matched by 36% of Muslims, when it comes to what folks believe, there seems to be a surprising degree of similarity that crosses religious lines. The report revealed that an equal percentage of Indian Muslims believed in karma as did Indian Hindus (77%), along with over half of Indian Christians (54%), two-thirds of Buddhists and Sikhs, and 75% of Jains. Around one-third of Muslims and Christians said they believed in reincarnation as opposed to (and I found this very weird) only 40% of Hindus, 18% of Buddhists and Sikhs, and 23% of Jains). A similar level of belief in the purifying power of the Ganga was found among the two Abrahamic faiths. Needless to say that none of these ideas could be considered orthodox doctrine in any tradition of Islam or Christianity, and any adherence to them by followers of those religions in India immediately opens up a flood of questions one could ask.

Could it be the result of a superimposition of a Muslim or Christian layer onto a Hindu-Buddhist base such as happens when a linguistic superstrate is built atop a conquered population leading to the adoption of vocabulary and grammatical features from the linguistic substrate? Or, could it be like the speculated spread of retroflex consonants, which, while found in languages in many parts of the world, are particularly concentrated in India? Perhaps it’s a consequence of Hindu demographic domination over the last several decades causing it to serve as a sort of ‘prestige dialect’ among Indian religions? In any case, I don’t think we can discount the probability that a generally convivial attitude between Hindus and Muslims could have been maintained prior to Partition.

As such, I am generally in agreement with X.T.M’s argument that what happened was largely because of the will of the political elite. What I do take issue with is the rather ludicrous oversimplification of the so-called ‘Hindu’ side as the “Brahminical–Congress elite”, not only because it is patently untrue in terms of the actual people who led the Congress. Let’s take a look at some of the founding and early members. There are: Continue reading Musings on & Answers to “The Partition of Elites: India, Pakistan, and the Unfinished Trauma of 1947” (Part 1)

Spiritual mothers of South Asia


One of the remarkable aspects of South Asian nationalist ideologies is their emphasis on maternal figures. For instance, India’s national song, Vande Mataram, is an ode to a mother, while the national anthem, Jana Gana Mana, refers to Bharata Bhagya Bidhata as “the affectionate mother” in its full lyrics. Moreover, Bharat Mata serves as a prominent symbol in the ideology of RSS. This is not limited to India, similar maternal figures are also celebrated in the national anthems of Bangladesh and Sri Lanka. So, who are these mysterious mothers, and where do they originate from?

A lesser-known fact is that all these mothers have a connection to Bankim Chandra Chatterjee’s novel, Anandamath, published in 1882. At that time, Bengal encompassed a large region, including present-day West Bengal, Bihar, Jharkhand, Bangladesh, and Assam. The novel takes place in a fictional Bengal, where the inhabitants are acutely aware of their civilizational identity and are ready to take up arms to defend it. It revolves around three fundamental elements:

1. Civilizational ideology : It’s an ancient and highly inclusive form of Non-dualism that we first see in Brihadaranyaka Upanishad. The choice of Non-duality was not unusual, as Bankimchandra, like most of his contemporary Bengali scholars, had a Vedanta centric view of Dharma. In one of his essays, he even described western non-dualists like Spinoza and Herbert Spencer as European Hindus.

2. The Mother: She embodies the essence of this civilizational ideology and represents the land where it thrives. She is seen through three distinct forms, known as “what mother was,” “what mother has become,” and “what mother will be.”

3. Santan Dal (Children of the mother): It is a large paramilitary organization consisting of dedicated volunteers, led by celibate monks. Their singular purpose is to reclaim the past glory of the mother. They are not ritualistic and have just one anthem, Vande Mataram, dedicated to the mother.

The novel as well as the song Vande Mataram had a huge impact on the freedom struggle and soon the mother gained a pan-Indian fan following. Within a generation Bengali Mata became Bharat Mata and after independence the song Vande Mataram was declared to be the national song of India.

After Bankim Chandra’s death in 1894 this ideology was further popularized by Tagore. The mother featured in many of his songs, including Jana Gana Mana. SriLankan composer Ananda Samarakoon, who studied under Tagore at Vishwa Bharati University for a brief period, was deeply influenced by Tagore’s work. In 1940, he created the SriLankan Mata in a song titled “Namo Namo Matha,” which ultimately became the national anthem of Sri Lanka.

The story behind “Amar Sonar Bangla”, the national anthem of Bangladesh, is quite interesting. Tagore wrote this song before the partition of Bengal, so the word Bangla refers to the entire Eastern India and the “Ma” in this anthem is the same as the one from the original version of Vande Mataram. Because it doesn’t mention Bangladesh or Islam at all, a lot of Muslim organizations in Bangladesh weren’t too thrilled about it. But then in 1971, the leaders of Bangladesh wanted to step away from a religious identity, so they finally embraced it as the national anthem.

The link between RSS and Bharat Mata ideology was Anushilan Samiti, The first real organization motivated by Santan Dal. Although it was treated as a terrorist organization by the British rulers, it had supporters from all over India. One of them was K. B. Hedgewar, who went to Calcutta to study medicine and became a part of the inner circle of Anushilan Samiti. He returned to Maharashtra after his studies, but a few years later created a pan-Indian version of Santan Dal, known as Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh.

AI vs Poet (Open Thread)

A University of Pittsburgh study presented participants with poems by ten renowned English-language poets—including Chaucer, Shakespeare, Whitman, Dickinson, and Plath—alongside AI-generated poems in their style using ChatGPT 3.5. Interestingly, AI poems were rated higher in overall quality than the human-written ones, contrary to previous findings.

I am perplexed about how we can assess an AI-generated poem as inferior to a human’s. As when we read a poem, we read it for its content, irrespective of anything else. The emotional valence of Iqbal’s Shikwa has nothing to do with his circumstances; whether he were a general in the British army or a debauched drunk, the poem would still be there to be read, cherished, and savoured. Extending this logic, how can AI-written poems be rated lower simply because they were not written by a human? I don’t know.

Anyone who wants to explain their take on this.

Meltdown BhāáčŁya: Verse 1.1.1 (Part 1.3)

The philosophy of Land and the idea of God: The Cathedral of physicalism, A protestant materialism

Originally Published: February 03, 2025

Part 1.2

The philosophy of Land and the idea of God

The nirīƛvaravādi ādi-accelerationists no doubt consider our usage of the word ‘God’ and countless references to ancient myths and texts a serious breach of the philosophy and a perversion of its ideas. Though we are not interested in soothing their fears, the objections they will raise must nevertheless be wrestled with, as Landian Accelerationism portrays itself a purely materialist philosophical system, which, although not often talked about at present, is properly referred to as ‘libidinal materialism’. Thus, we must descend into the ‘sublime basement’ of Land’s philosophy before we may return once more to the heady poetics of Meltdown. His system of thought is most comprehensively laid out in the opus The Thirst for Annihilation (Land, 1992b), which makes it clear that his philosophy follows in the wake of the Nietzschean ‘death of God’, something he explicitly states when he assembles a theoretical machine linking Kant, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Freud, and, most importantly, Bataille to himself. As Mackay and Brassier put it in the ‘Editors’ Introduction’ of Fanged Noumena (Land, 2012): “Land allied himself to a line of renegade thinkers – Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Bataille – who mocked and disparaged academicism and wielded philosophy as an implement for exacerbating enigma, disrupting orthodoxy, and transforming existence” (p. 2-3). Continue reading Meltdown BhāáčŁya: Verse 1.1.1 (Part 1.3)

Economies of UP and Bihar

In the rankings of major Indian states based on per capita income, UP and Bihar have been occupying the last two places for quite a while. Their per capita incomes are approximately half and one third of the national average, which has sparked considerable discussion lately. While most people focus on usual suspects like overpopulation and corruption, some argue that the absence of coastlines also plays a significant role. This idea has appeared in this blog several times, and I will offer my two cents.

On the surface, the argument seems reasonable, given that both Bihar and UP are non-coastal states and many coastal states are doing extremely well. However, a closer look reveals a lack of empirical evidence to support this claim. To begin with, the correlation between higher per capita income and having a coastline is relatively new. Back in 1990, of the eight major coastal states, only Maharashtra was performing exceptionally well. Gujarat was above average, while Karnataka, Kerala, Tamil Nadu, Andhra Pradesh, and Bengal were either average or slightly below. Orissa, on the other hand, was quite poor. This suggests that it was economic liberalization, rather than the mere presence of coastlines, that primarily fueled the growth in South India.

The correlation between coastal status and economic performance appears even more spurious when we examine other non-coastal states. There are eight large non-coastal states with populations exceeding 20 million, excluding UP and Bihar. Their combined per capita income is almost same as the national average. In fact, two of these states, Telangana and Haryana, rank among the top three. If being landlocked is indeed such a significant disadvantage, why doesn’t it similarly impact these other non-coastal states?

Let’s explore the coastline related industries further. India’s blue economy, which includes sectors like coastal tourism, fisheries, shipping, and offshore energy, constitutes only about 4 percent of the country’s GDP. Given that coastal states account for 55 percent of India’s GDP, it’s evident that coastlines aren’t as impactful economically as one might assume. The transport sector in India represents roughly 5 percent of the GDP, but a significant part of this involves passenger and local freight transport. The part consisting of transport between port and non-coastal states is relatively small, and the extra burden is equivalent to a tax of less than 5 percent on all imported or exported goods.

So one could probably argue that if UP and Bihar were coastal, their per capita incomes might be 5-10 percent higher. However, this doesn’t change the big picture.

Brown Pundits