Other People’s Religion

Wendy Doniger returns the study of Hinduism to its rich, endless love of debate, says SALIL TRIPATHI

Pluralism’s postergirl Historian Wendy Doniger COURTESY: UNIVERSITY OF CHICAGO

IF NEWSWEEK is to be believed, we are all Hindus now. Its provocative headline showcased change in America, where religious and philosophical beliefs can no longer be neatly described as Judeo-Christian.

But what kind of Hindus would that be? It would be impossible to have a singular view, because the essential characteristic of this faith, practised by over 900 million people worldwide, is how slippery it is to try to define it. It has its Vedas and Upanishads, stories of valour in the Ramayana and Mahabharata, and the Gita lays down the path of doing one’s duty without anticipating rewards. But isn’t there more?

What about the yoke of Manu’s laws? What about the rights of women, the ambiguity of the meaning of karmic action? Does one have to believe in many gods, or, even none? Is there any absolute truth, or is everything relative? Which Krishna is right? Which Rama to worship? Are all Hindus vegetarians, or did they eat beef? And what of the hundreds of other stories-within-stories? And what about all those identitybased interpretations – from feminist scholars, from the dalits, all arguably “subaltern” views seeking space occupied by the Brahminical punditry?

Almost every Hindu has a personal, nuanced interpretation of her beliefs, making generalisations exasperatingly difficult. Keepers of other faiths balk at such individual latitude and pass fatwas or launch inquisitions, but Hindus are supposed to feel relaxed about it. Lacking a central authority like the Pope, not having a single pilgrimage place more important than others like Mecca and derived from many books and not one, the faith’s essence, its uniqueness, has been this messy plurality.

At last, there is a witty, elegant and academically rigorous volume presenting this multi-everything faith in an accessible form, from one of its foremost experts, Wendy Doniger of the University of Chicago. The book stretches to 779 pages, with 22 pages of index, 25 pages of bibliography, and over 1,800 footnotes, but her tone is never dull, her language is always engaging, and it will even appeal to those whose attention span cannot go beyond 140 characters.

Early in this impressive walk through Hinduism, Doniger notes the coexistence of apparent contradictions within the faith: “You could easily use history to argue for almost any position in contemporary India: that Hindus have been vegetarians, and that they have not; that Hindus and Muslims have gotten along well together, and that they have not; that Hindus have objected to suttee (sic), and that they have not; that Hindus have renounced the material world, and that they have embraced it; that Hindus have oppressed women and lower castes and that they have fought for their equality.”

And it is this plurality that offends Hindutva adherents, who believe it weakens Hinduism. Historically, Indian scholars and practitioners have viewed the faith on their personal terms, providing radical or conservative interpretations. Abroad, Hinduism has fascinated experts for a long time. But Hindu nationalists now want discourse to be only from within – external views, particularly critical, or unconventional (in their eyes, that is) interpretations, must be ignored, since they come from outside the faith. Thus the creation of 'kaffir/apostate' terminology, which is, at least in theory, alien to the faith. Activists have lately singled out Doniger for special attention. Internet forums have criticised her in tasteless terms; an irate activist has hurled an egg at her at a seminar in London; and some are upset because she brings to the open what they didn’t know they are embarrassed about.

There is misogyny in these attacks. But Doniger also draws special attention because she focuses on aspects that can’t be categorised as “spiritual” and “other-worldly”, but deal with the erotic nature of our lives. Her past works — about the Kama Sutra, about lingaworship — have angered some who seek Talibanist solutions to prevent depiction of nudity in public. Doniger also challenges the notion of who owns the discourse – not by arguing her case more loudly, but by highlighting marginalised views, from the rich diversity of opinions within the faith. But in showing this multitude, she also draws common threads, which blend the spiritual and temporal aspects of our existence. Wasn’t synthesis a Hindu virtue? It is her critics who are dividing the discourse, doing the picking and choosing.

Doniger’s critics claim she hates India. In an email interview, she talked of how Hinduism has enriched her life: “I have learned so much, where to begin! I’ve learned about dealing with the darker side of life, with death, with violence, which I think Hindu mythology and theology deals with in a manner infinitely more realistic and profound than the western monotheisms do. I’ve learned to appreciate chaos and the unexpected in ways that were very hard for me to deal with when I was younger.”

One of the tragic outcomes of the collapse of secular consensus in India is the prevalent Hindutva notion, that there is only one way to negotiate Hinduism. Debate — the heart of what Amartya Sen calls the quintessential Indian spirit of argumentativeness — is seen as a sign of weakness. It is almost like the conservative French writer, Jean-Francois Revel lamenting in the early 1980s that democracies would perish against the Soviet might because of their argumentative nature. Within that decade, the Berlin Wall collapsed. In Salman Rushdie’s Haroun and the Sea of Stories, which showed that the land of Gup, in the end, triumphs over the land of Chup.