Manash Firaq Bhattacharjee in The Wire. in
https://thewire.in/politics/pranab-mukherjee-not-so-secular-history-lesson-rss-meet
Manash Firaq Bhattacharjee ” teaches poetry at Ambedkar University, New Delhi. He is a frequent contributor to The Wire and has written for The Hindu, The New York Times, Los Angeles Review of Books, Guernica, Outlook and other publications.”
[Kabir’s Note: It is not my intention to troll or to start a fight. I simply think this is a very interesting perspective on Pranab Da’s visit to the RSS, which is the ideological enemy of the Indian National Congress. What are the implications and why did Pranab Da do this?]
After paying tribute to K.B. Hedgewarâs memorial, where he called the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh founder, a âgreat son of mother Indiaâ, former president Pranab Mukherjee waited for his turn to speak at the RSS event he was invited to.
It was a political endorsement that made a clear shift in its ideological grounds, because Jawaharlal Nehru and Hedgewar, like God and Mammon, are irreconcilable.
As Mukherjee waited his turn, the audience was treated to a viewing of RSS drills and other physical skills. A training camp of men wielding sticks is a symbol of double-policing, of self and society. Bhagwat made his opening remarks, invoking national unity in pure Hindi, using Sanskrit shlokas to define the cultural boundary of that oneness. The terms âcivilisationâ and ânationâ are collapsible for Bhagwat, along with a third, which was of primary concern: âHindu Samajâ, or Hindu society. For religion, Bhagwat used a term, âprakrutik dharmaâ, a naturalist idea of religion or moral codes.
The equation cannot be missed: Nature=nation=dharma.
The nation is the crucial thread between nature and dharma. In other words, nation is a concept and a reality where both nature and dharma becomes political, or they need to be understood politically.
And:
But when Mukherjee reaches the 12th century, and enters the medieval period, there is a striking obliteration of political and cultural details. Mukherjee mentions nothing of the âMuslim invadersâ, besides Babur defeating the Lodhi king in the First Battle of Panipat, and the Mughal rule lasting for three hundred years.
The student of Nehruvian history is suddenly, no longer interested in Nehruâs recollection of âAkbar, forgetful of his empire, seated holding converse and debate with the learned of all faithsâ. Mukherjee not only does not mention Akbar, but also, given his interest in matters of culture and scholarship, he makes no mention of Dara Shikoh, the translation of the Upanishads, no word on medieval centres of learning, no Islamic art, literature or architecture, no Indo-Islamic civilisation.
He forgot, given his interest in chroniclers from distant lands, the Moroccan traveller, Ibn Battuta, whose description of the Hindu Kush is legendary.If the omissions were conscious (rational) it was bad enough, and if unconscious (ideological), much worse. But not only were the Muslims left out of the story. There was no Ranjit Singh or Guru Gobind Singh either. Some Hindus would have missed Shivaji and Rana Pratap. Medieval India saw multiple and complex formations of power struggles, and Mukherjee kept himself out of that mess. The neater the picture and history of great dynasties, the less it glorified âinvadersâ, the better. Mukherjee clearly parts ways with Nehruâs secular vision of Indiaâs history. It is one thing to claim allegiance to Nehru and use the rhetoric of secularism. It is another to prove oneâs secular idea of history. The details were starkly missing.Â
Finally:
Mukherjeeâs idea of India is primarily civilisational. He quotes a Tagore poem about civilisational unity, but missed the whole point of Tagoreâs idea of civilisation. In Civilization and Progress, Tagore wrote: âThe word âcivilisationâ being a European word, we have hardly yet taken the trouble to find out its real meaning. For over a century we have accepted it, as we may accept a gift horse, with perfect trust, never caring to count its teethâ. If one counted the teeth of that term, one is bound to encounter a freewheeling Orientalism in the Hindu ideas of the nation and civilisation, with a generous dose of Sanskritic wisdom as its cultural source. To acknowledge the debate with Buddhism would itself displace the centrality of Hindu philosophy.The civilisational narrative wonât remain secular if it discounts the exchanges between Hindu and Islamic scholars, and Indiaâs rich Indo-Persian cultural tradition.
Quoting a shloka from Kautilyaâs Arthashastra, âinscribed near lift No. 6 in the Parliamentâ, a memory he cherishes, Mukherjee tried to draw our attention to Indiaâs poor happiness index in the world.
He translates the meaning of the shloka in English: âIn the happiness of the people lies the happiness of the king, their welfare is his welfare.â He read it as a directive for the state to pay attention to poverty, disease, deprivation, encourage development, harmony, and of course, happiness. But happiness is not a statistical concern. Happiness is not a gross national product whose index had to be raised. There is no happiness in a nation that debars you from speaking the truth, that debars you from contradicting power, that debars you from eating, drinking, praying, loving, to your heartâs content. It is not just the mind that demands freedom, but also that much abused organ, the heart. Unlike Britain, a country that currently suffers from loneliness and needs a ministry for it, India does not need a ministry of happiness.
Mukherjee needs to introspect on something else: whether he is still a Nehruvian.