Book review: In the name of the father
NB: This is my review of Makarand Paranjape's book. It includes observations that were curtailed by the required word-length. The shorter version appeared in The Indian Express on April 4, 2015 . A related article on the theme of Gandhi's murder may be read here: The Abolition of truth - DS
Book: The Death and Afterlife of Mahatma Gandhi
Author: Makarand R. Paranjape
Publisher: Random House
Pages: 348 pages
Price: Rs 599
This
book is a meditation on a haunting. India’s tryst with modernity began with
genocide and patricide, an “epochal event” that Indians have evaded for
decades. The author notes that it was Gandhi’s disciple Sarojini Naidu whose
eloquent national broadcast of February 1, 1948, launched the Mahatma’s
afterlife at the same time as it sought to “interdict a national soul-searching.”
Naidu’s tremulous speech ended with her wishing him no rest. Paranjape is at
his most sensitive here, bluntly telling us that there can be no escape apart
from a transcendence of the two-nation theory.
Paranjape’s
book traverses many moral and psychological themes. Above all, he links the
murder of Gandhi to Partition, reminding us that it was “the slaying of a
dream, the dream of communal harmony… his murder was an act of communal
hatred”. He cites Karl Jaspers famous post war book, The question of German
guilt, to help us reflect upon the various forms of ethical responsibility that
weigh upon a polity born amidst disaster. He also meditates upon philosopher BK
Mallik’s assessment of the event as a final rejection “of the Indian tradition
in its entirety”.
Partition
did not resolve communal rifts, but institutionalised them. Gandhi had warned
that without mutual friendship and security for all minorities, independence
would be imperilled. About those who combined hatred with slogans of Akhand
Hindustan, he remarked: “There is nothing in common between me and those who
want me to oppose Pakistan except that we are both opposed to the division of
the country. There is a fundamental difference between their opposition and
mine. How can love and enmity go together?” That is why he planned to lead
kafilas to take refugees back to their homes in both countries. Like Badshah
Khan, Gandhi cannot be confined to a nation-statist frame. As Paranjape notes,
his memory disturbs us, and it is this disturbance that explains his afterlife.
Nationalism and religion
Although
the book develops many lines of theoretical inquiry, an interrogation of the
crucial term “nation” would have been appropriate. Nationalism has emerged as a
civic religion and patriotism a political form of prayer. As such, it can combine
zealotry even with atheism. But to compare nationalism with religion is not the
same as identifying it with this or that religion. French nationalism, for
example, began with atheistic rejection of religiosity. Gandhi’s religiosity
was not the basis of his nationalism, but the source of his philosophical
questioning. The spokesmen of religious nationalism on the other hand, used it for political differentiation, and sought to exclude people on that basis. It is a moot question as to
whether systematic murder, of one person or many people, can be judged to be an
ethically sound state of mind for a prayerful person.
Religious
nationalists, Hindu and Muslim, conflated nationalism and religion, producing
a hateful perversion that Gandhi intuitively named irreligion. Those who
mistake Hindutva for sanatan dharma forget that nation-worship is a
manifestation of right-wing atheism, an identitarian numbers-game, wherein all
truth is reduced to a philosophy of number. The discourse of national homelands
for religious communities turned faith into geo-politics; and replaced
metaphysics with raison d’etat. To mix philosophy with nationalism renders
wisdom itself into an ideology, and it is good to remember that ideology is the
antithesis of wisdom.
Gandhi’s
stature was a combination of temporal and spiritual authority, says Paranjape,
and this is why the elision of his assassination is “a question of gigantic
proportions”. He reminds us that patricide is so heinous to Hindus as to be
incomprehensible. He re-iterates that partition ideologies destroy societies.
Hence it is puzzling to read his query about whether the current “majoritarian
political formation” might emerge as a “better guarantor of religious and cultural
pluralism.”
Truth and reconciliation?
There
are other problematic observations in the book. Thus, in a passage recalling debates about early medieval history he cites Gandhi: "Muslims should realise and admit the wrongs perpetrated under the Islamic rule." Paranjpe adds, "Nothing of the sort has, of course happened. There is no Indian equivalent of the
Truth and Reconciliation Commission of South Africa, which helped to heal the
wounds of apartheid after the collapse of the latter. Such a process has never
happened between Hindus and Muslims in India.’ This confuses me. Quite apart from the questionable efficacy of the TRC,
surely such a device would not be effective as a means of addressing deep historical grievances? The TRC was set up in the
immediate aftermath of a political transformation, but Islamic sovereignty in
India ended over two centuries prior to 1947. And who was going to speak for
this or that community? What would be the time-span for which ‘hearings’ could
be conducted? Who would attest to what transpired in the thirteenth or
sixteenth century?
This is not an esoteric debate. The question of an acknowledgement
of historic injustices affects discourses of identity in South Asia – among religious as
well as caste groups. But the task is beyond the scope of officially-run
commissions. It requires sustained and wide-ranging social dialogue and
historical inquiry – of which, indeed, this book is a fine example. And it will
transpire slowly, in Indian standard time.
The Swayam Sevaks
Paranjape
believes that accusations directed at the RSS
are “best described as political”. That may be true, but so too are its
protestations of innocence. As Patel put it, “in the case of a secret
organisation like the RSS which has no records of membership… securing of authentic
information whether a person is an active member or not is a very difficult
task.” (vol 6 of Selected Correspondence of Sardar Patel; edited by Durga Das, p 57)
There were intelligence reports about the Sangh’s plans for terror. The AICC resolution of November 16, 1947 referred to the RSS, the Muslim National Guard and the Akali Volunteers as “private armies”, a menace to India’s freedom. Paranjape mentions the Government's ban on the RSS on February 4, 1948, but omits the contents of the communiqué which stated:"The objectionable and harmful activities of the Sangh have, however, continued unabated and the cult of violence sponsored and inspired by the activities of the Sangh has claimed many victims. The latest and the most precious to fall was Gandhiji himself”.
There were intelligence reports about the Sangh’s plans for terror. The AICC resolution of November 16, 1947 referred to the RSS, the Muslim National Guard and the Akali Volunteers as “private armies”, a menace to India’s freedom. Paranjape mentions the Government's ban on the RSS on February 4, 1948, but omits the contents of the communiqué which stated:"The objectionable and harmful activities of the Sangh have, however, continued unabated and the cult of violence sponsored and inspired by the activities of the Sangh has claimed many victims. The latest and the most precious to fall was Gandhiji himself”.
Given
Paranjape’s call for truthfulness, the Sangh’s violent activities required
attention. There is evidence that the surface facts concealed many things. Ramachandra
Guha, citing data from police archives, writes:
The RSS, on the other hand,
wanted to complete the process of ethnic cleansing. So said a sub-inspector of
the Delhi Police named Bhagwan Das Jain. A mole inside the RSS, Jain reported
on October 24 that the Sangh saw in the unsettled conditions the chance to take
a bold step towards the establishment of Hindu rule in India. As he wrote,
"according to the Sangh volunteers, the Muslims would quit India only when
another movement for their total extermination similar to the one which was
started in Delhi sometime back would take place". The RSS men, he
continued, "were waiting for the departure of Mahatma Gandhi from Delhi as
they believed that so long as the Mahatma is in Delhi, they would not be able
to precipitate their designs into action".
By early November, Golwalkar himself was camped in Delhi, planning for future action. In a speech in Ramjas College, he noted with satisfaction that the RSS membership had increased by 2,500 in a single month. He told his audience to be prepared for the fight ahead. On December 6, Golwalkar convened a meeting of RSS workers in Govardhan, near Delhi. The police report on this meeting remarks that "the (RSS) workers are alleged to have discussed the ways and means of capturing the seats in the government.... It is also alleged that one of its (the RSS's) programme(s) would be to assassinate the leading persons of the Congress...to terrorise the public and to get their hold over them": http://www.outlookindia.com/article/They-Too-Wrote-Our-History/228341
By early November, Golwalkar himself was camped in Delhi, planning for future action. In a speech in Ramjas College, he noted with satisfaction that the RSS membership had increased by 2,500 in a single month. He told his audience to be prepared for the fight ahead. On December 6, Golwalkar convened a meeting of RSS workers in Govardhan, near Delhi. The police report on this meeting remarks that "the (RSS) workers are alleged to have discussed the ways and means of capturing the seats in the government.... It is also alleged that one of its (the RSS's) programme(s) would be to assassinate the leading persons of the Congress...to terrorise the public and to get their hold over them": http://www.outlookindia.com/article/They-Too-Wrote-Our-History/228341
A politics of love
The
philosopher Hegel has spoken of the ‘patient work of the negative’. To which Albert Camus
responded that ‘real love is as patient as hatred.. the demand for justice is
not the only justification throughout the centuries for revolutionary passion, which
is sustained by a painful insistence on universal friendship’. Gandhi was an
immensely strong person, we don’t see it because we identify strength with force,
and force with violence. Confronted by a world marred by mental animosity and
physical destruction, he stood out as the voice of universal friendship. That
he found this strength in his religion is hardly the point. Religion for him
was not reducible to doctrine, but an expression of love, for which he also
used the word ahimsa. Its impact was palpable: the contemporary Shahid Ahmad Dehalvi
recorded the impact of Gandhi’s arrival in Delhi in September 1947 thus - Sukhe dhanon mein pani pad gaya. (Cited in Gyanendra Pandey, Remembering Partition, (2002), p 148)
That
he embodied the persistence of love in the midst of so much hate is made
visible by the shock waves of his death, which spread over the world. That we
still wrestle with him is proof enough, but two examples will suffice. One is
cited in this book. The American eyewitness Vincent Sheean, upon hearing the
shots spoke of the ‘wavelike disturbance’ in his head, as he recoiled from the
shock, which he described thus: ‘I felt the consciousness of the Mahatma leave
me then – I know of no other way of expressing this: he left me.’ Fazlul Haq,
one-time premier of Bengal (and who had sneered at Gandhi’s peace mission in
Noakhali in 1946), described the assassination as one of the most tragic events
since Karbala. CR Rajagopalachari compared him to Socrates and Jesus. Taking note
of these things does not require us to elevate Gandhi to divine or saintly
status. Rather, they are pointers to the human spirit, which is beyond all
forms of ethnic or religious identity, and which Gandhi never ceased to invoke: “The
force of love is the same as the force of the soul or truth. We have evidence
of its working at every step.”
The
author repeatedly criticises Hindu nationalists for the lie that Gandhi was
partial to Muslims. His last fast was meant to restore communal peace in
India’s capital; and above all, marked his steadfast rejection of revenge,
regardless of who indulged in it. Yet Nathuram Godse did not consider Gandhi
the father of the nation, but the father of Pakistan. Those were his words. In
which case killing him was not patricide — Godse’s admirers name it
Gandhi-vadh. Whom do we execute, if not criminals?
In his last days Gandhi wondered about the 'failure' of his version of ahimsa, the non-violence of the brave.' The author however, reminds us that Gandhi's non-violence was "spectacularly successful" in Noakhali, Bihar, Calcutta and Delhi. His fasts had a colossal impact, attested to by most observers, including persons who had sneered at him. Mahatma
Gandhi is among a handful of world historic figures who illuminate the
potential of human goodness. By sacrificing his life, avers Paranjape, he
“overturned the mechanics of Partition, countering the engines of hatred,
violence, domination, destruction and death. Just as he did not live in vain,
the Mahatma did not die in vain either”. This moving assessment requires a
caveat. The engines of hatred still turn, some among us still celebrate his
death. Gandhi’s life is a compass. How we use it is up to us. The riddle
remains unresolved, but Makarand Paranjape has labored courageously to place it
before us. I urge Indians of all faiths to read it.
Ja ja
varde mandir maseeti
Kadi mann apne vich vadeyaa nahi
Avein lardaa hai, shaitaan de naal bandeya
Kadi nafz apne naal ladeya nahi
Avein lardaa hai, shaitaan de naal bandeya
Kadi nafz apne naal ladeya nahi
- Bulle Shah
(You
keep entering temples and mosques
But
you never entered your own mind..
It’s
futile, friend, to wrestle with Satan
When
you never wrestled with your deepest self )Also see
The Philosophy of Number
The Abolition of truth (on the 'parivar's celebration of Gandhis murder)
The Broken Middle (on the 30th anniversary of 1984)