Professional Documents
Culture Documents
A Cultural History of India
A Cultural History of India
A. L. BASHAM
OXFORD
U N I V E R S I T Y P R E SS
OXFORD
UNIVERSITY PRESS
Oxford N ew York
A th en s. A uckland Bangkok Bogota Buenos Aires Catcutta
Cape Town C hennai Dar es Salaam Delhi Florence Hong Kong Istanbul
Karachi Kuala Lumpur Madrid M elbourne M exico C ity Mum bai
Nairobi Paris Sao Paolo Singapore Taipei T okyo Toronto W arsaw
w ith associated com panies in
Berlin Ibadan
ISBN 0 19.563921 9
1 Even as it stands, this book contains lacunae. I should have liked to include a.chapter on
the Gypsies, who are also part o f the history o f India; and, the much-debated question o f
trans-Pacific contacts, o f which there were certainly some in Pre-Columbian times, though
very slight and indirect, might also have been considered. More serious is the absence o f a
chapter on the Indian dance, on e o f her greatest contributions to the world’s culture.
vi Preface
scholar who has made a special study o f the' subject. The contribution o f
M artin Briggs on Indian Islam ic Architecture is also kept, purged o f several
pages o f discussion o f matters which were once controversial, but are now no
longer so. Other than these chapters, all the material is new.
In my editorial capacity I have made no attempt to force my numerous
helpers to fit their contributions to a particular pattern, beyond explaining to
them at the outset that I hoped that the book would emphasize the inheritance
o f modern India from the past, and her many bequests to the world o f the
present. M y m ain task, except in respect o f the chapters inherited from the
G arratt Legacy, has been in trying to impose a uniform system o f translitera
tion, orthography, and typographical conventions, in occasionally adding
brief explanatory remarks, and in abridging a few contributions which were
definitely over length.
It was part o f my original plan to include chapters on ‘ India since Inde
pendence’ and ‘ Pakistan since Independence’ , w hich would survey the main
trends in the tw o countries over the last twenty-five years. But I finally de
cided against this in view o f the size o f the volume, and o f the fact that many
aspects o f the contem porary situation were covered in other chapters. In the
place o f these two un written chapters a brief conclusion tries to draw the m any
and diverse threads o f this hook together. I f in this I have allowed m yself to
make value judgem ents, s o m e o f which may be in disagreement, with the state
ments o f certain contributors, I put rqy vjews forward w ith all deference, as
those o f one w ho has had close contacts with the region o f'S ou th Asia- for
m any years, and has deep-affection'for the people o f that region and jo r tbeip
culture.
Som e readers m ay be irritated by^he numerous diacritic marks tq be found
over the letters even o f well-known Indian names. I take full responsibility for
any annoyance this m aycau se. It has long been-one o f m y minor tasks in life
to encourage the English-speaking public to pronounce Indian names^and
terms with at least an approxim ation to accuracy, and the attention o f readers
is drawn to the notes on pronunciation which immediately follow this preface,
One o f the m ost difficult problems facing the editor o f a w ork such as this,
in the present-day context, rests in its title. When, the original Legacy was pub
lished the w hole o f the region o f South A sia, with the exception o f N epal, the
foreign affairs o f which w ere controlled by India, and o f Ceylon (now officially
ârt L an k a ),'which like India was part o f the British Empire,-was. clearly .and
unequivocally India. T h e region now consists o f five .completely independent
states, o f which the R epublic o fln d ia is unquestionably the largest in size and
population. This fact,.perhaps understandably, sometimes leads to expres
sions o f protest when the word ‘ In d ia ’ is used, jn certain.contexts/ to cover
regions beyond India’s present-day frontiers. A s an extremé example I remem
ber a student from Kâthm andü indignantly declaring that his country had
not received, the credit that was. its due because G autam a Buddha was invari
ably referred to as an Indian when jn fact he had been a Nepalese. T he en
dem ic tension between India and Pakistan leads to similar protests, on grounds
too numerous to mention. I recognize the force o f national feeling, and I do not
wish to give offencq.to citizens o f the oilier oountries’ o f fTouth A sia ’- but here
inevitably ‘ In d ia ’ must be understood at times in its broadest historical sense.
Preface vii
Let It be remembered in any case that the word India itself owes its deriva
tion, not to India, but to Greece. Until the Muslims came to South A sia none
o f the inhabitants o f that region ever thought o f calling their country by such
a name. The river Indus is known in Sanskrit as Sindhu. T h e Indus region,
most o f it now Pakistan, became a satrapy o f the Achaemertian Empire of
Iran under the name Hindush, the Indian s becoming Persian h by a regular
sound-shift between the two languages. The Greeks, borrowing the word from
the Iranians, called thé river Indos and the country through which it flowed
India. It would appear that for Herodotus the Indus basin was the w hole of
India.
A t least from the time o f Alexander o f Macedon, and probably before him,
the Greeks realized that beyond the Indus valley lay the valley o f another eveh
greater river which they called Ganges, from the Sanskrit Ganga. This latter
name, incidentally,'is now officially used in India, not only in Indian languages
but also in English. Since it is the name by which those who dwell on its banks
have known the sacred river for some 3,000 years, there seems no pòint in re
taining the classical modification o f the Indian word, and wc have therefore
adopted Ganga regularly in this book.
Later classical writers, though their geographical knowledge was very in
accurate, regularly applied the term India to the large land mass which ex
tended from the Himalayas to the sea. The Arabic Hind and the Persian
Hindustan had the same connotation at a later date. Thus Europe and western
Asia have applied the word India to the whole o f mainland South A sia, irre
spective o f political boundaries, for over 2,000 years. In contexts such as this
one, circumlocutions like ‘ the Indo-Pakistan subcontinent’ are quite im pos
sible. W e are compelled to retain ‘ In d ia’, even if we go beyond the bounds o f
the present Indian Republic.
It remains for me to express my acknowledgements for much help and ad
vice received in the course o f my task. First I must thank D r. Râghavan Iyer,
for collecting the first drafts o f several chapters before he relinquished his
editorship. 1 am very grateful to Professor J. Duncan M.. D errctt for first
suggesting that I take up the task, as well as for acting as my contact in
London and for contributing an excellent chapter to (he volume. I have to
thank all the contributors for their generous co-operation and (in many cases)
for their patience; I am especially grateful to a few o f them w ho cam e to my
help at the last minute, and produced chapters at very short notice. A number
o f colleagues gave me very helpful advice on the selection o f contributors and
other matters o f importance— I think specially o f M r. W . G . Archer, Professor
J. -W. de Jong, D r. H. H . E. Loofs, and D r. S. A . A .R iz v i. T o bring this com
plex editorial task to a successful conclusion I have been greatly helped by the
very competent professional assistance o f Mrs. Jocelyn Bergin, Secretary o f
the Department o f Asian Civilizations, o f Miss M ary Hutchinson, Depart
mental Research Assistant, and o f the ladies o f the typing pool o f the Faculty
o f Asian Studies o f (he Australian N ational University. D r J. C . Harle, o f the
Ashmolean Museum, O xford, has given invaluable help with the illustrations.
I must also thank the staff o f the Clarendon Press for exem plary patience
and for trusting my judgement.
Canberra, 1972 A . L. Basham
viìi Preface
W h i le t h is book h a s b e e n i n t h e p r e s s , s e v e r a l i m p o r t a n t p o l i t i c a l
p o s t s c r ip t .
changes have taken place. The secession o f E ast Pakistan, to become the
independent state o f Bangladesh, occurred shortly before the final typescript
was submitted, and note o f this has been taken in the text. T he change o.f the
fam iliar name Ceylon to Srl Lanka came later, and I have not attempted to
alter the text o f this b ook accordingly. M ore recently the Indian state o f
M ysore has become Karnataka, and several small hiil-states have been de
tached from the form er Assam . It would delay the appearance o f the book
still further i f I attempted to bring every reference to these regions o f South
Asia up to date, and I crave the reader’s indulgence for inconsistencies in this
respect.
A . L . B. (1974).
C O N TE N T S
i. Introduction A . L. B a sh a m i
p a r t one: t h e a n c ie n t h e r ita g e
hi T h e E arly A ryans T . B u r ro w 20
lv. T h e Early D ravidians Joh n P. M a r k 30
v. A sokan India and the G upta A g e R omila T h a pa r 38
vin. Buddhism B h ik sh u S a n g h a r a k s h it a 83
X. Philosophy S. N . D as G u p ta iii
x v i. M usic N , Ja ir a z b h o y 212
xx Sikhism H ew M c L e o d 294
XXI. M edieval Indian Literature K r is h n a K r t p a l a n i 303
Contents
P A R T T H R E E : C H A L L E N G E A N D RESPONSE— TH E C O M IN G OF TH E W EST
PART fo u r : tN D IA A N D TH E W O R L D O U TSID E
1. Kalibangan : steatite seals (two upper rows) and clay sealings (bot
tom row). Archaeological Survey o f India
2. Lothal : cast o f obverse and reverse o f a seal o f ‘Persian-G ulf’ style.
Archaeological Survey o f India
3. Surkotâdâ: general view o f the citadel, with entrance-ramp in the
middle distance on the right. Archaeological Survey o f India
4. Surkotâdâ: entrance to the citadel, with ramp, staircase, and
guardroom s( 7). Archaeological Survey o f India
5. Indo-Greek and Persian coins. From H. G . Rawlinson, Inter
course between India and the West, Cam bridge University Press
6a. Bronze statuette o f Harpocrates from Taxila. From the Cambridge
History o f India, vol. 1
6b. Greek intaglio gems from North-W est India, ibid.
7. N orth Indian Astrolabe, brass. ? 18th century. Obverse. Museum
o f History o f Science, O xford
8. N orth Indian Astrolabe, brass. ? 18th century. Reverse. Museum
o f History o f Science, O xford
9. Samrât yantra. Delhi. Winter
10. M other Goddess, moulded terracotta plaque. Tam luk (near C al
cutta). c. 1st century b . c . Aslimolèan Museum, Oxford
11. Y ak ça, stone. Besnagar, now in VidiSâ Museum, c. 1st century b .c .
J. C. Harle
12. Seated Buddha, sandstone. Sarnâth. Late 5th century a .d . J. C.
Harle
13. Viçnu in his Boar incarnation, sandstone. U dayagiri (M adhya
Pradesh). Early 5th century a . d . J. C^ Harle
14. Sivalaya-M alegitti (a Siva temple). Badami (M ysore State). First
h alf o f 7th century a .d . J. C . Harle
15. Head o f Siva from an Ekam ukhalingam , spotted red sandstone.
M athura. 4th—5th century a . d . Ashmolean Museum, O xford
16. S iva N atarâja (S iv a as L ord o f the Dance), bronze. From Tam il-
nàdu, probably Pudukottai, Thanjâvür region. Chola Dynasty. 10th
century a .d . Victoria and Albert Museum, London
17. Bodhisattva. Gandhâra (Graeco-Buddhist). 2nd-5th century a .d .
' Archaeological Survey o f India
List o f Plates and Maps
30. G ird le(patkâ), stencilled and painted cotton, Râjasthân. Late 17th
or early 18th century. Victoria and Albert Museum, Lóndon
31. Seated Buddha, gilt bronze. China. Form er C hao D ynasty. D ated
338. Avery Brmdage Collection
a .d .
L I S T OF M APS
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M E D IA E V A L D V N A S T IÇ S l D E L H I S U l T - A N A T K P E R IO D . f B R IT IS H IN O IA
?. S 3 3 g 8
NOTES ON THE P R O N U N C I A T I O N OF
I N D I A N WORDS
E v e r y Indian language has a com plex phonetic system and contains phonemes
which to the average speaker o f English seem almost exactly the same, but to
the Indian ear are completely different. O nly after long practice can the hearing
be trained to recognize fhese differences, or the Yocal organs to pronounce
them accurately. The scripts o f Indian languages reproduce these sounds, but
they can only be expressed in rom an script by means o f numerous diacritic
marks below or above the letters. It is assumed that m ost o f the readers o f this
b ook will not be students o f Indian languages, and therefore a simplified
system o f transliteration has been used, which w ill.give some idea o f the
approximate sound.
W ords in classical languages are transliterated according to the simplified
system mentioned above. Place-names in general follow th e . present-day
official spellings o f the governments o f the countries o f South A sia, as given
in Bartholom ew’s W ord Travel M ap, India, Pakistan and Ceylon, 1970.
Proper names o f nineteenth- and twentieth-century Indians are given in the
spelling which they themselves favoured, including the thoroughly inaccurate
‘ T a go re’, which should be Thâkur, with the stress on the first syllable. D ia
critic marks have been placed over the long vowels in such names, in order to
give some idea o f the correct pronunciation, Exceptions are made only in the
case o f a very few Anglicized words, like Calcutta and Bombay. In quotations
from Sanskrit the full system o f diacritics has been used, for the benefit o f
those who know something o f the language.
O nly four letters with diacritic marks, are norm ally used— â, i, û and s. The
first three distinguish long from .short vowels. In most Indian languages e and
o are always long, and therefore do not need diacritics.
VOWELS
a short is pronounced like u in ‘ h u t’, never like a in ‘ hat1. Bengali speakers
usually pronounce it like a short 0 as in ‘ h o t’.
a lo n g, as in ‘ c a lm ’ .
e approximately as the yowel in ‘ same’ , but closer to the long e in French or
German.
i as in ‘ p in ’ . T h e word Sikh, incidentally, should sound approxim ately like
English ‘ sic k ’ . The pronunciation like ‘ seek’ seems to have been adopted by
some Englishmen in India for this very reason, in order to avoid depressing
overtones in the name o f a tôugh, vigorous people.
f as in ‘ m achine’.
o, approximately as in ‘ s o ’. Closer to long 0 in French or German.
u as in ‘ b u ll’, néver as in ‘ b u t’ . (‘ P u n jab ’, however, is an Anglicized spell
ing, and is m ore accurately written 1P an jâb ’ . In the case o f this word we have
deviated from our rule about rising the accepted spelling, in order to avoid the
Notes on the Pronunciation o f Indian Words xvii
pronunciation ‘ P oon jab’, which one sometimes hears from speakers w ho are
doing their best to be correct. The first syllable is like the English ‘ p u n ’.)
û as in 'ru le '.
ai as y in ‘ m y ’ .
' au as ow in ‘ h o w ’.
CON SON AN TS
STRESS
The am ount o f stress placed on any one syllable o f a word varies with
different speakers. W ith some, especially in the south, every syllable o f a
word has alm ost the same value, while others m ake à definite stress.
In classical Indian languages (Sanskrit, Pah, and the Prakrits) the stress is
on the last prosodically long syllable o f a w ord, other than the final syllable.
A prosodically long syllable is one containing a long vowel or diphthong (a, e,
LIST OF CONTR IB U TOR S
Introduction
by A . L . B ash am
T h ere are four main cradles o f civilization, from which elements o f culture
have spread to other parts o f the world. These are, m oving from east to west,
China, the Indian subcontinent, the ‘ Fertile Crescent’, and the M editer
ranean, especially Greece and Italy. O f these four areas India deserves a
larger share o f the credit than she is usually given, because, on a m inimal
assessment, she has deeply affected the religious life o f m ost o f A sia and has
provided very im portant elements in the culture o f the w hole o f South-East
A sia, as well as extending her influence, directly and indirectly, to other parts
o f the world.
It has been com m only believed in the W est that before the im pact o f
European learning, science, and technology ‘ the E a st’ changed little i f at all
over many centuries. T h e 'w isdom o f the E a s t’, unchanging over the m illen
nia, it was thought, preserved eternal verities w hich W estern civilization had
almost forgotten. O n the other hand ‘ the E a st’ was not ready to enter into the
rough and tumble o f the modern w orld without theguidance fo r an indefinite
period o f more developed Western countries.
These ideas were no doubt held in good faith by m any well-inform ed
people o f earlier generations, and there m ay have been a grain o f truth in
them from the point o f view o f the nineteenth century. B ut there is no reason
to believe that the rate o f change in India in earlier times was any slow er than
that o f other parts o f the world. It was only from the sixteenth century on
wards, when a com bination o f m any factors led to increasingly rapid techno
logical and scientific advances in Europe, that the m yth o f the changelesSness
o f A sia began to appear.
In fact India has always been steadily changing. T he civilization o f the
G uptas was different from that o f the M auryas, and that o f m edieval times
was different again. The Muslims altered conditions considerably, and the high
flowering o f Indian M uslim civilization under the fou r great M ughals brought
yet more changes. The religious life o fln d ia , fo r all her ‘ ancient w isdom ’ , has
changed greatly over the centuries. Between the time o f the early G reek
philosophers and that o f St. Thom as Aquinas, Buddhism developed into a
great religious m ovement in India, changed its outlook alm ost com pletely,
declined, and finally sank back into the Hinduism from which it had emerged,
but only after Buddhist missionaries had spread their message throughout
h a lf o f A sia. T h e Athenian A cropolis was at least 560 years old before the
first surviving stone Hindu temple was built. Som e o f the m ost popular gods
o f Hinduism, fo r instance, GaneSa and H an u m in , ate not attested until w ell
after the time o f Christ. Certain other features o f H idduism also, for instance
the cult o f the divine Ram a and thé com plex and difficult system o f physical
training know n as hatha yoga, are centuries later than Christianity.
2 Introduction
Y et the older strata o f India’s cultural life gO back far beyond anything we
have in the W est. The whole o f the Rig Veda had been composed long before
the Iliad, and there is hardly anything in the O ld Testam ent in its present form
which is as old even as the latest R ig V edic hymns. Some practices and beliefs
o f popular Hinduism, for instance the cults o f the sacred bull and the pipai
tree, are as old as the prehistoric H arappà culture, and probably even older.
In fact every generation in India, for over 4,000 years, has bequeathed some
thing, if only a very little, to posterity.
N o land on earth has such a long cultural continuity as India, since, though
there were more ancient civilizations, notably in Egypt and Iraq, these were
virtually forgotten by the inhabitants o f those lands, and were overlaid by new
intrusive cultures, until nobody remembered the Book o f the Dead or the Epic
o f Gilgamesh, and great kings such as Ramesses II or Ham m urabi were not
recorded in any living tradition. O nly nineteenth-century scholarship resur
rected them from oblivion, and if they are now national heroes, remembered
by every school-child in their respective lands, this is not thanks either to
the historical genius or to the retentive folk-m em ory o f the countries con
cerned.
On the other hand in India the brahm an still repeats in his daily worship
V ed ic hymns com posed over 3,000 years ago, and tradition recalls heroic
chieftains and the great battles fought by them at about the same time. In re
spect o f the length o f continuous tradition China comes second to India and
G reece makes a poor third.
T h e pre-Vedic Harappà culture bequeathed to later times sacred animals
and trees, the M other Goddess, the preoccupation with personal cleanliness,
and, less certainly, other aspects o f Indian culture. From the V edic Aryans
cam e many o f the gods, the Vedic hymns, some o f the most im portant per
sonal rituals o f Hinduism, the patriarchal and patrilineal fam ily system, and the
horse. Later Vedic times (0 1000-600 B.C.) brought the passion for specula
tion on ultimate causes, the quest, for the A bsolute, the doctrine o f trans
migration, the search for release from the round o f rebirth, and mystical
gnosis. In social life and material culture the same period saw the crystalliza
tion o f the four classes (varnas) o f Hindu society, the introduction o f iron
from western A sia, the dom estication o f the elephant, the developm ent o f
kingdom s out o f tribal chieftainships.
In the 300 follow ing years coined m oney becam e com m on, and writing,
know n in the time o f the Harappà culture and lateFapparently forgotten, be
came widespread. Heterodox teachers, ch ief o f whom was the Buddha, spread
new doctrines which bypassed the gods, the Vedas, and the brahmans, and the
area o f civilization steadily expanded into the remoter parts o f the subcon
tinent.
P olitical developments over the preceding period led to the first great
empire o f India, that o f the M auryas, when for the first time most o f the sub
continent was united under a single governm ent. This period (c. 320-185 B.c.)
produced the M achiavellian system o f statecraft associated with the name o f
the minister K autilya, the reputed author o f the fam ous Arlhasâstra. From
the M auryas also come the earliest surviving stone sculpture o f India, the
oldest artificial c a v e s a n d /he m ns/ a n rù»n* Rtiddhr«t rf«*»n/ip
Introduction 3
(c. 272-232 d .c .) Buddhism increased its influence, and was taken to Ceylon.
The 500 years between the M auryas and the G uptas (c. 184 b .c .- a .d . 320)
saw tremendous developments in Indian civilization, partly due to fresh in
fluences brought in by various invaders and traders, and partly the result o f
internal developments. N ew forms o f devotional religion emerged, centring
round the gods Vishnu and Siva, and these led to the com position o f the
Bhagavad Gita, now the m ost influential text o f Hinduism. Buddhism de
veloped a theology, the M ahâyàna, which was carried to China. Schools o f
law appeared, codifying in written form earlier traditions. The two great epics
o f India, the Mahâbhârata and the Râmâyana, were edited in something like
their present form. C ourtly literature began developing out o f vanished proto
types : drama, ranging from the heroic to the sentimental, and verse, wonderful
in its polish and ingenuity yet often filled with deep and sincere feeling.
Logically reasoned philosophical schools emerged, as distinct from the older
religious teachers, m ost o f whose arguments were analogical. C ontact with
South-East Asia became closer with the spread o f trade, and that region began
to adopt m any features o f the religion and culture o f India. These are only a
few o f the many innovations o f this, perhaps the most form ative period o f
Indian history before the nineteenth century.
The period from the rise o f the Guptas to the death o f Harshavardhana
(320-647) can truly be called the classical period o f Indian civilization. In this
age the greatest sculpture o f ancient India was produced, and the finest
literature written, in the poems and plays o f Kàlidàsa. This was the time o f
the best surviving ancient Indian mural painting, typified by Ajantâ. K n o w
ledge grew also in this period. India’s most important practical contribution
to the world, the system o f place notation o f numerals, with nine digits and a
zero, was known by a .d . 500, and led to the great development o f Indian
mathematics and astronom y. T he recording o f ancient legends and traditions
in the Purânas began. The M other Goddess, after centuries o f neglect, became-
an important object o f worship again. Stone-built temples appeared through
out the land.
Between the death o f Harshavardhana and the com ing o f Islam (647-
c. 1200) the ecstatic devotional religion (bhakti), associated with the singing
o f hymns in the common tongue, appeared in Tam ilnadu,-later to spread all
over the subcontinent. Temples became larger and grander, w ith spiring
towers. The system o f hatha yoga was developed, and tantrism, with its
sacramentalization o f sex, spread in both Hinduism and Buddhism. In
Sankara and Ram anuja Hindu religious philosophy saw its greatest teachers.
Some o f the finest schools o f bronze-casting in the world appeared in Bengal
and Tam ilnadu. The form er region also developed a fine school o f miniature
painting.
W ith the coming o f Islam fresh cultural influences made themselves felt.
T he sultanate period (1192-1526) saw the introduction o f new styles o f archi
tecture, bringing the dom e and arch. N ew schools o f miniature painting, both
Muslim and Hindu, emerged. S u fi teachers disseminated the doctrines o f
Islam and helped to m ake the religious climate o f northern India favourable
to the spread o f popular devotional Hinduism from the south. Paper was in
troduced, slowly replacing the traditional Indian writing materials— palm -leaf
4 Introduction
and birch-bark. The Urdu language began to appear as the lingua franca
o f northern India, and poets began to compose in the everydayNlanguages
instead o f classical Sanskrit,
The great days o f the M ughal Empire (1526-1707) witnessed the perfection
o f the schools o f Muslim architecture and miniature painting, with the pro
duction o f such splendid buildings as the T àj M ahal at  grâ. Cannon and
smaller fire-arms began to be used in warfare, Europeans established trading
stations at various ports, and through them, especially the Portuguese, new
crops were introduced into India, among them the potato, tobacco, the pine
apple, and, surprisingly, the spice which nowadays is commonly thought
typical o f India, the chilli pepper. The Sikh religion was bom just as this
period began, as a small devotional sect, and at about the time when the
period concluded it was reborn as a martial brotherhood, to play an important
part in the confused political life o f the following century.
The eighteenth century saw the break-up o f the Mughal Empire and the
steady expansion o f the power o f the British East India Com pany. It was a
time o f general cultural decline in India, but the genius o f the land was still at
work. The Urdù language, little used hitherto as a medium o f literary expres
sion, became the vehicle o f great poetry at the decadent courts o f D elhi and
Lucknow ; while in the Him alayan foot-hills, at the end o f the century at the
petty courts o f local maharajas, by some unexplainable miracle, there worked
painters who produced works o f unprecedented beauty and sensitivity. With
the nineteenth century the subcontinent was exposed to the full force o f
W estern influence, and innovations are too numerous to list.
This cursory survey o f the history o f cultural change in India is sufficient in
itself to show that, as long as civilization has existed there, the country has
never been stagnant, but has steadily developed through the ages. India has
enjoyed over 4,000 years o f civilization, and every period o f her history has
left something to the present day.
A s well as this great legacy o f the human past, the people o f the subcon
tinent have another inheritance from N ature itself— the land and its climate.
W e cannot understand South A sia without knowing something about what
its people have received from the primeval forces which shaped the surface o f
the earth millions o f years before man existed. In this sense perhaps India’s
m ost im portant inheritance is the great chain o f the Himalayas, without which
the land would be little mòre than a desert.
A s the plateau o f Central A sia grows wanner in the spring, the warm air
rises and winds bearing heavy masses o f cloud are attracted towards the high
tableland from the Indian, bcean . The movement o f the clouds is interrupted
by the mountains, and they shed their burden o f rain upon the parched, over
heated land. The monsoob, beginning in June, lasts for about three months,
and brings water for the whole year. Except along the coast and in a few other
specially favoured areas, there is little or no rain in other seasons, and thus the
life o f almost the whole subcontinent depends on the monsoon.
The conservation and just sharing out o f the available water am ong the
cultivators is a very im portant factor in the life o fln d ia . It has been one o f the
main concerns o f Indian governments for over 2,500 years and indeed the
high civilization which is discussed in the pages o f this book has depended,
Introduction 5
and still largely depends, on irrigation, prom oted and supervised by govern
ment, for its very existence. In the past, whenever the rains have been inade
quate, there has been fam ine; whenever a local governm ent has lost grip and
become ineffective, irrigation has been neglected, dams have broken, canals
iiave been choked with mud and weed, and great hardship has resulted. T hus
villagers have learnt to co-operate independently o f their rulers, by form ing
their own village government, under a committee o f locally respected leaders,
the panchàyat, to care fo r matters o f com m on concern such as irrigation, and
to settle disputes as far as possible outside the royal courts. O n a large scale
the climate has perhaps encouraged autocracy, but at the local level it has
necessitated government by discussion.
Let it not be thought that the South Asian clim ate is one w hich encourages
idleness or quietism. There are certainly periods in the agricultural year when
little w ork can be done in the fields, but in a different way, in m ost parts o f the
subcontinent, the challenge o f nature is ju st as serious as it is in northern
Europe or Am erica. The driest part o f the year is also the hottest, in A p ril and
M ay, and it is perhaps just as difficult to sustain life in such conditions as it is
in the cold northern winter. The rainy season brings problem s o f another
kind— alm ost constant heavy rain, floods destroying thousands o f lives, rivers
changing their courses, epidemics, and stinging insects, som e o f which carry
the germs o f such diseases as m alaria and elephantiasis. In the winter season,
m oreover, though the days are mild and sunny, the nights m ay be very cold,
especially in Pakistan and the western part o f the G anga basin. In such times,
when the midnight temperature m ay be below freezing-point or only a little
above it, deaths from exposure still occur. O nly in the tropical coastal areas o f
the peninsula would clim atic conditions permit the survival o f a considerable
population w ithout much hard w ork and foresight, sustained by coconuts,
bananas, and the abundant fish o f the Indian Ocean; and in these favoured
areas the population passed the limit at which such a w ay o f life was possible
over 2,000 years ago.
The abundant bounty o f tropical and sub-tropical nature has been qualified
by extreme heat, extreme rainfall, and extreme dryness in different parts o f the
year. In fact the climate o f thè subcontinent tends to extremes, and possibly
this too has influenced the Indian character and attitude to life, because,
though one o f the greatest o f India’s teachers counselled ‘ the M iddle
W a y ’, succeeding generations have not alw ays taken this course, and the
extremes o f rigorous asceticism and abandoned luxury have often gone hand
in hand.
South o f the Him alayas lie the great plains o f the subcontinent, the centres
from which civilization expanded in ancient times; Com posed o f deep silt
carried down by the rivers Indus (Sind, Sindhu) and G anga (Ganges) these
plains are naturally very fertile, but fo r centuries they have supported a dense
population, whose peasants used the most easily available form o f m anure,
cow-dung, as fuel. Hence the fertility o f the plains declined, until by the end o f
the last century m any areas had reached a rock bottom o f productivity, from
which they have begun to emerge only recently, w ith the introduction o f arti
ficial fertilizers and the spread o f knowledge o f better agricultural m ethods. In
ancient days, however, the fertility and the healthy well-fed peasantry o fln d ia
6 Introduction
were noticed b y Foreign travellers from the Greek Megasthenes (c. 300 b .c .)
onwards.
South o f the G anga are thé Vindhya M ountains and the long and beautiful
River N arm ada, dividing the north from the plateau region o f M aharashtra,
generally called the D eccan (from Sanskrit dakshina, ' south’)- The region, less
naturally fertile than the great plains, has been fo r at least 2,000 years the home
o f tough m artial peasants who, whenever energetic leadership appeared to
consolidate their clans, would take advantage o f the political weakness o f their
neighbours to raid the wealthier lands to the north, south-east, and south.
The D eccan plateau become? steadily less rugged and more fertile as one
proceeds south and south-east. A lo n g the eastern littoral o f the peninsula are
fertile riverine plains, the most im portant historically being that o f Tam ilnadu,
reaching from M adras to Cape Com orin (Kanyâkum àrl, the extreme southern
tip o fln d ia ). Here, over 2,000 years ago, the Tam il people developed a fairly
advanced civilization independently o f the A ryan north; this region has
throughout its history' maintained a consciousness o f its differences from the
north, and has cherished its own language, while remaining part o f the whole
Indian cultural area; there m ay be an analogy between the Tam il attitude to
the northern A ryans and that o f the W elsh to the English, with the difference
that, while m any Welshmen have English as their mother tongue, few if any
Tam ils have a mother tongue other than Tam il.
Y e t another inheritance o f India from the distant past is her people. D e
spite the difficult mountain passes and the wide seas barring access to India,
people have been finding their w ay there from the days o f the Old Stone A ge,
when sm all hordes o f primitive men drifted into the subcontinent. These are
probably the ancestors o f one o f India’s three main racial types— the Proto-
Australoid, so called because o f the resemblance to the Australian Aborigines.
In India the m ost pure Proto-Australoid type is to be found am ong the tribal
peoples o f the wilder parts o f the peninsula, but Proto-Australoid features can
be traced almost everywhere in the subcontinent, especially among people o f
low caste. T h e ideal type is short, dark-skinned, broad-nosed, and large
mouthed.
Th e next m ain stratum .in the population o f India is the Palaeo-Mediter-
ranean, often loosely called D ravidian, a word not now favoured by anthro
pologists. These people seem to have còm e to south Asia from the west, not
very long before the dawn o f civilization in the Indus valley, and they m ay
have contributed to the foundation o f the H arappà culture. G raceful and
slender, with well-chiselled features and aquiline noses, the ideal type is parti
cularly to be found am ong the better-class speakers o f D ravidian languages,
but it also occurs everywhere in the subcontinent.
Then, in the second millennium B .C ., came the Aryans, speakers o f an Indo-
E uropean language’w hich was the cousin o f those o f classical Europe. Some
have suggested that these people cam e in two or m ore waves, the earlier in
vaders being round-headed (brachycephalic) people o f the type called A lpine
or Arm enoid, and the later long-headed folk, typical Caucasoids, similar in
build to northern Europeans. L on g before they entered India the people who
called themselves A ryans had intermixed with other peoples, and their advent
meant a severe cultural decline, which lasted for many centuries. Only when
Introduction 7
À ry a a culture was fertilized by the indigenous culture did it begin to advance,
to form the classical civilization o fln d ia . There are good arguments for the
view that in the finished product non-Àryan elements are more numerous
than Aryan. N ow adays the Caucasoid type is chiefly to be found in Pakistan,
Kashm ir, and the Panjâb, but even here one rarely meets pure or nearly pure
specimens. A s one proceeds east and south the' typé becomes progressively
rarer.
These three, the Proto-Australoid, the Palaeo-Mediterranean, and the
Caucasoid or Indo-European, are the most strongly represented racial types
among the inhabitants o f India; but they are by no means the only ones.
Alm ost every race o f Central Asia found its way to India. Turks provided the
ruling families in much o f what is now Pakistan long before the com ing o f the
Muslims, who were also Turks. Mongolians o f various races have been enter
ing India over the Him alayan and north-eastern passes since long before
history. The M uslim ruling classes imported numerous African slaves, w ho
have long since merged with the general population. Persian and A rab
traders settled along the west coast from before the Christian era. Some
married Indian women, and the descendants have become indistinguishable
from the rest o f the population. Others, such as the small but vigorous Parsi
community, have kept their stock pure. T he various European traders and
conquerors have left their mark also. A lon g the west coast o f India and
Ceylon an appreciable quantity o f Portuguese blood circulates in the veins o f
the general population, while elsewhere in India the so-called Anglo-Indian
comm unity is the result o f many marriages and liaisons between European
(not only British) soldiers and traders and Indian women.
Thus, in reading these chapters, we must remember also India’s enduring
inheritance ó f climate, land, and people, the basis on which her high civiliza
tion has been built, and which will remain, more or less unchanging, to condi
tion the lives o f her people in all their triumphs and vicissitudes in future
centuries.
PAR T ONE
T H E A N C IE N T H E R IT A G E
C H A P T E R II
M o re than 4,000 years ago there flourished in the north-western parts o f the
Indo-Pakistan subcontinent a civilization which, deriving its name from the
main river o f the region, is known as the Indus civilization. In fact,/however,
it extended far beyond the limits o f that valley— from Sutkagen-dor, on the
sea-board o f south Balüchistàn, in the west to Alam glrpur, in the upper
Gangâ-Yam unà doâb in U ttar Pradesh, in the east; and from R opar, alm ost
impinging upon the sub-Him àlayan foot-hills, in the north to Bhagatràv, on
the estuarj' o f the K im , a small river between the Narm ada and T âptï, in the
south. In other words from west to east the Indus civilization covered an area
o f 1,600 kilometres, and from north to south o f 1,100 kilometres, and it w ill
not be surprising if future discoveries widen the horizons still further. This is
an area much greater than that occupied jointly by the contemporary civiliza
tions o f Egypt and M esopotam ia. A n d throughout the region a notably high
standard o f living was reached w hich is reflected in almost every w alk o f life.
The first thing that strikes a visitor to an Indus site— be it H arappà or
M ohenjo-dàro in Pakistan or K âlibangan, Lothal, or Surkotâdâ in India— is
the town-planning. One finds the streets and lanes laid out according to a set
plan: the main streets running from north to south and the cross-streets and
lanes running at right angles to them. A t Kâlibangan, am ong the n orth-
south streets there was a principal one, q-zo metres wide, while the other
north-south streets were three-quarters o f its width. The cross-streets and
lanes were, once again, h a lf or a quarter o f the width o f the narrower streets
from north to south. Such typical and minutely planned residential areas,
often called the .'low er tow n s’ , were themselves only a part o f the entire
settlement com plex. F o r at H arappà, M ohenjo-dàro, Kâlibangan, and
Surkotâdâ, there was a ‘ citadel’ , smaller in area than the ‘ lo w e r to w n ’ and
invariably located to the west o f it. A t Lothal, although no ‘ citadel’ as such
has been found, a similar conception seems to have existed, fo r the m ore im
portant structures rested in a group on a high mud-brick platform . In marked
contrast might be cited the contemporary example o f U r in M esopotam ia,
where there was no rigorous planning o f this kind, the main, street wandering
and curving as it wished.
B oth at H arappà-and M ohenjo-dàro the houses were made o f kiln-burnt
bricks. A t K âlibangan and Lothal too, although mud bricks were used for
m ost o f the residential houses, kiln-burnt bricks in large quantities were used
for drains, wells, and bathing-platforms, and in particular for thé dockyard
at the latter site (below, p. 14). Such bricks were rare in contem porary
Mesopotamia or Egypt. A t M ohenjo-dàro and K âlibangan, where large
areas have been excavated, an average house consisted o f a courtyard around
12 The Indus Civilization
H arappà, with a ‘ citad el’ on the west side and a ‘ lower tow n’ on the east, and
also it tells us rather more. T hus the citadel complex, fortified with a 7-metre-
thick m ud-brick wall with tosvers at intervals, consisted o f two equal
and well-defined parts, one to the south containing several large mud-brick
platform s meant fo r specific purposes and the other to the north containing
residential houses, perhaps o f those concerned with the affairs in the southern
part. T he platform s were separate one from the other as also from the forti
fication wall, there thus being regular passages around them. Access to the top
o f the platforms was by steps leading from the passages. On top o f one o f the
platform s were located a well, lined with kiln-burnt bricks, several bathing-
pavements o f the same material, and a series o f juxtaposed clay-lined pits
running in a north-south alignment, o f which at least eight have been identi
fied. Each pit measured about 60 by 45 centimetres and contained, be
sides ash and charcoal, a prominent stump o f burnt clay in the middle,
measuring about 25 centimetres in height and 10 centimetres in diameter. In
other similar pits, usually found singly in the houses in the lower city, have
been discovered biconvex terracotta ‘ cakes’ , placed around the clay stump.
Thus it would appear that the entire complex 011 this platform— the well, the
bathing-pavements, and the clay-lined ‘fire-altars’— had a ritualistic purpose.
A similar indication is given by another platform on the top o f which were
located a well, a ‘ fire-altar’, and a rectangular pit (t x 1-25 metres) lined with
kiln-burnt bricks and containing antlers and bones o f cattle, which seem to
suggest a sacrifice.
The lower town at Kâlibangan, while showing the usual grid pattern o f main
thoroughfares, subsidiary streets, cross-streets, and lanes, revealed that it too
was fortified. Piercing the fortification wall, which was made o f mud bricks,
were at least two gateways, one 011 the northern side leading to the river and
another on the west providing access to the citadel. (It would not be surprising
if further excavations on the periphery o f the lower town at M ohenjo-dàro
brought to light the remains o f a similar town wall. A t any rate, an attempt is
w orth making.) In width the Kâlibangan lanès and streets followed a set
ratio: thus, while the lanes were p 8 metres wide, the streets, in multiples o f
the form er, were 3-6, 5-4, and 7-2 metres wide.
Lothal, situated not far from the G u lf o f Cam bay, an inlet o f the Arabian
Sea, is the only site with a d ockyard; this is 216 metres in length (north
to south) and 37 metres in width, situated immediately to the east o f the town
ship. It is lined with a wall f 2 metres thick o f kiln-burnt bricks, now rising to
a maximum height o f 4-3 metres. In the southern part o f the eastern wall is a
7-metre-wide gap, and excavation further to the east, in continuation o f this
opening, has revealed the bed o f a channel o f identical width. It is surmised
that it was through this channel that the dockyard was connected with the
Bhogavo river, svhich, though now located about 2 kilometres aw ay, flowed
much nearer in ancient times. It is thought that boats entered the dockyard
through this channel at high tide, when the water swelled up and.pushed up
stream. F or the discharge o f excess water a sizeable spill-channel was pro
vided in the southern wall. T h e boats, it would appear, returned to the river
when the tide was falling. .
In this context, reference m ay’ also be made to a structure located not far
The Indus Civilization 15
from the dockyard to the south-west. It consisted o f twelve rectangular blocks
made o f mud bricks, arranged in fou r rows o f three each and covering an
over-all area o f 17 by 14 metres. Between the blocks ran criss-cross channels,
evidently air-ducts; over a metre in width. It is surmised that overlying these
blocks was a spacious hall o f timber, some slight evidence o f the latter being
the debris o f charcoal and fragments o f charred wood found in (he air-ducts.
In these ducts were also found over too lumps o f clay, now partly or wholly
baked, bearing impressions o f typical Harappau seals (below, p. 16) on one
side and o f reeds on the other. These were evidently sealings on packages made
o f reed. W hat the packages contained we can only guess. In the context o f the
dockyard, however, it seems likely, though not proved, that this building was
a warehouse where commodities ready for export or received from abroad
were temporarily stored.
About 270 kilometres north-west o f Ahm adàbâd in G ujarat is Surkotâdâ.
The settlement pattern o f Harappà, Mohenjo-dàro, and K âlibangan is re
peated here, but with a difference. T he citadel and the lower town were joined,
although their relative directional position remained the same, the form er to
the west and the latter to the east. A s at K âlibangan, both the citadel and the
lower town were fortified. Each had its independent entrance, located on the
southern side; there was also an intercommunicating gate between the two. In
addition to mud bricks, stone rubble which is easily available in the neigh
bourhood was liberally used for construction. The massive wall o f the citadel
can still be seen to a height o f 4^5 metres (PI. 3). N o less impressive is the
gateway complex o f the citadel, with its ramps and staircases (PI. 4).
So much for the structural remains which, apart from revealing the archi
tecture and town-planning o f the time, have also thrown valuable light on
organizational, religious, and commercial aspects o f the life o f the people.
N ow we shall consider the finds— the pottery, terracottas, sculptures, seals,
weights, etc.
Pottery is found in very large quantities at all ancient sites and may well be
regarded as the index to the econom ic and artistic standards o f the popula
tion— standards which m ay also be reflected jn the few sculptural or other
artistic pieces that survive. T h e Indus people used a very characteristic sturdy
red ware, made o f well-levigated and very well-fired clay. Often it had a red
slip and was painted over in black pigment with a variety o f pleasing designs,
floral as well as geometric.- Sometimes birds, animals, and human figures
were depicted. In one case there is a she-goat suckling her kid, while a hen
loiters nearby. In another, a man carries across his left shoulder an equipoise
with two large nets. Judging from the portrayal o f the fish and tortoise in the
scene, the person may well have been a fisherman. On a painted pot from
Lothal there occurs a scene in which are depicted a bird perched on a tree
holding a fish, and a fox-like animal below. T he scene is very reminiscent o f
the story o f ‘ the clever fo x ’ narrated in the Pancltaianlra, wherein the fox
praised the crow seated on the tree-top for its sweet voice and thus made it
open its mouth and drop the morsel which the fox ran off with.
The terracotta figurines, human as well as animal, show vigour, variety, and
ingenuity. The often illustrated short-horned bull from M ohenjo-dâro and a
similar one from Kâlibangan are am ong the most powerful portrayals
i6 The Indus Civilization
o fth e animal from any ancient civilization. The human head from K âlibangan,
though only an inch in height, is a keen competitor, from the point o f
view o f expression and art, with the head o f the famous steatite figure from
Mohenjo-dâro (below). The female figurines, with their pannier head-dresses
and bedecked bodies, though hand-modelled, are indeed pleasinglittle things.
A nd then there are the terracotta toys, some o f which are to be noted for their
ingenuity: for example, a bull with a mobile head or a m onkey going up and
down a string.
The Indus people had a highly developed art o f making stone sculptures in
the round. There is.a striking steatite figure o f a bearded man, supposed to be
a priest, from M ohenjo-dâro. The inward-looking eyes and the serene expres
sion induce a reflective, meditative m ood. Likewise the two sandstone statu
ettes from Harappà, one representing a youth with muscular body and
another a dancer with one leg entwined round the other, are o f a really high
order. These could well have been the envy even o f Greek sculptors some
2,000 years later.
In the art o f metal sculpture too, great heights were achieved. T he famous
bronze female figure from M ohenjo-dàro, supposed to represent a dancing
girl, with her right hand poised on the hip, her bracelet-covered left arm swung
to rest on a bent left leg, a necklace dangling between her breasts, and, above
all, her well-braided head haughtily thrown back, is a perfect piece o f art. In
this case the feet are missing, but one is tempted to imagine that she wore
anklets as shown in another fragmentary bronze sculpture, o f which only the
lower portion is preserved. A s well as the human figures there are fine speci
mens o f bronze animals, the buffalo from M ohenjo-dâro with its massive
head upraised, for example, or the dog attacking a deer depicted on the top
o f a pin from Harappà.
But the Indus artist was at his best when he dealt with his seals (PI. 1).
C u t out o f steatite, the seals are usually 20 to 30 millimetres square. On the
obverse is an inscription, generally accompanied by an animal figure; on the
reverse, a perforated knob, evidently for suspension. It is in the engraving o f
these seals that the great gifts o f the Indus valley artists are especially reflec
ted. Indeed, there can be no two opinions about the superb depiction on the
seals o f the brâhmant bull, with its swinging dewlap, pronounced hump,
and muscular body.
That the Indus people were literate is fully borne out by the inscriptions on
the seals. The occurrence o f inscriptions even on pottery and other household
objects further shows that literacy was not confined to a select few. T h e script,
seemingly pictographic ând having nearly 400 signs, has not yet been de
ciphered. The various attempts so far have not been based on the strictest
scientific principles and little agreement has been reached. However, overlaps
o f the signs inscribed on some potsherds discovered at K âlibangan clearly
show that the direction o f writing was from right to left. W herever the
inscription ran into a second line, the style seems to have been boustrophedon.
W hile reading and writing are duly attested to by these inscriptions, pro-
ficency in the third R , arithmetic, is clearly shown by the cleverly organized
system o f weights and measures. M ade usqally o f chert and cubical in shape,
the weights fall in the progression o f r, 2, 8/3, 8, 16, 32, etc. up to 12,800. The
The Indus Civilization 17
scales, o f ivory or shell, indicate a ‘fo o t’ o f about 13-0 to 13-2 in. and a ‘cu b it’
o f 20-3 to 20-8 in. M ention in this context m ay also be made o f plum b-bobs
and ‘angle-measures’ o f shell.
The Indus civilization represented a perfect Bronze A ge, though chert
blades continued to be used for certain specific purposes. Bronze objects for
domestic use included knife-biadcs, saws, sickles, chisels, celts, razors, pins,
tweezers, fish-hooks, and the like. Those for defence or offence comprised
spears, arrow-heads, and short swords. T h a t bronze was used in plenty is
shown by its employment for non-essential items like vessels.
H owever, as in m ost other contem porary civilizations o f the world, agri
culture was the backbone o f the Indus econom y. The extensive use o f kiln-
burnt bricks, for the firing o f which plenty o f w ood was needed, and the fre
quent depiction o f jungle fauna such as the tiger, bison, and rhinoceros on the
seals, suggest the possibility o f there having been more rainfall during the
Indus period than there is now. T o d a y it is news if M ohenjo-dâro gets even
10 centimetres o f rain during the w hole year. M oreqver, dry channels occur
ring close to the sites show that in ancient times the Indus, R âvî, G haggar,
Satluj, and B hogavo flowed respectively on the outskirts o f M ohenjo-dâro,
H arappà, Kâlibangan, R opar, and Lothal. Thus there was an adequate water-
supply which, coupled with a rich alluvial soil, produced crops o f wheat and
barley, besides bananas, melons, and peas. H owever, perhaps the most re
markable agricultural achievement was the cultivation o f cotton. Even E gypt
did not produce it until several centuries after it was grow n in the Indus
valley.
There is evidence to show that the people ate, besides cereals, vegetables
and fruits, fish, fowl, mutton, beef, and pork. T h e relevant animals were
evidently domesticated. There is also evidence o f the domestication o f the cat,
the dog, and perhaps the elephant. T h e data about the cam el and horse are
less conclusive.
N o t much evidence is available regarding the dress o f the Indus people. T h e
portrayal o f a man on a potsherd from H arappà shows the use o f the dhoti,
while the shawl as an upper garment is indicated by the fam ous fig u re 'o f a
priest from M ohenjo-dàro (above, p. 16). T he two— the dhoti and shaw l—
bring to mind the picture o f an average Hindu o f the modern Indian village.
The occurrence o f needles and buttons shows that at least some o f the clothes
were stitched.
The variety o f ways in which the wom en-folk did their hair and bedecked
their persons suggests that life was not all toil. T h e ornaments,included, from
head to foot, the bija, ear-rings, necklaces, bracelets, girdles, and anklets. T h e
bija, a hollow conical object, is typical even today o f the maids o f Ràjàsthân.
There were pastimes too, like the playing o f dice or, for the m ore daring, the
hunting o f wild animals. The youngsters played hopscotch and marbles, while
the small children played with rattles and toys, some being noteworthy fo r
their clever methods o f m anipulation (above, p. 16).
The Indus population, particularly o f the cities, was a cosm opolitan one. It
included Mediterraneans, Proto-Australoids, Alpines, and M ongoloids. In
keeping with such a mixed population, there was i wide variety o f religious
practices. T h e portrayal on, several seals o f a-horned, three-faced figure,
The Indus Civilization
surrounded by various auimals, wild and domesticated, brings to mind the con
ception o f Siva in the form o f Pasupati, the Lord o f Anim als. The presence of
a prototype o f the later Saivitc cult is also suggested by the occurrence o f what
may have been lingas and yonis. A kind of ritual associated with fire-places
has already been referred to. There was also the worship o f the M other G o d
dess. The adoration o f trees and streams, or perhaps o f the spirits supposed
to be residing in them, is also suggested by the relevant data. A belief in life
hereafter is evident from the burial practice according to which along with the
dead person were placed objects like mirrors, antimony rods, mother-of-pearl
shells, and a large number o f pots, some o f which in life seem to have been
used for eating and drinking. In one case a fowl was also placed in the grave-
pit. For some reason now unknown, the body is invariably to be found lying
from north to south, the head being towards the north. A m ong the graves
excavated at H arappà, o f unusual interest was one in which the body was
placed in a wooden coffin. Coffin burials were common in Sargonid Iraq and
it is not unlikely that a westerner was buried here.
This probable presence o f a westerner at H arappà need not surprise us.
Contacts with western A sia are suggested on the one hand by the occurrence
at the Indus sites o f articles o f known western origin, for example spiral- and
auimal-Ueaded pins, mace-heads, socketed adze-axes o f copper or bronze, and
vases o f chlorite schist with typical ‘ hut-and-window’ decoration; and, on the
other, by the find o f seals and sealings o f the Indus style at west Asian sites
such as U r, Susa, U m m a, Lagash, and Tell Asm ar. Incidentally, a sealing at
Umma is reported to have been associated with a bale o f cloth— evidently an
export from India. In m ore recent years, a seal (PI. 2) has been found at
Lothal, which is more or less o f the same .type as tho.se found at contem porary
sites on the Persian G u lf such as Barbar, Ras-al-Qala, and Failaka. This dis
covery, com bined w ith that o f the dockyard at the same site (above, p. 14),
proves beyond doubt that the trade with western A sia was, at least in part,
maritime. Overland trade, perhaps in the fashion o f the caravan trade o f his
torical times, also seems to have taken place. For the presence in the Indus
sites o f articles o f lapis lazuli, jade, turquoise, etc., not indigenous to the
soil, cannot be explained except by trade with Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, and
Ceutral A sia, the last two o f which are connected with the Indus valley by
land alone.
Until recently, the main evidence for fixing the chronological horizon o f the
Indus civilization was the aforesaid seals o f Indian origin found in western
Asia. O f these, a dozen were found in a datable context, seven in the Sargonid
period (c. 2300 B.C.), one in pre-Sargonid, three in Larsa (c. 1S00 B.c.), and
one in K assite (c. 1500 b.c.). T o add to this was the evidence o f segmented
beads o f faience from late Indus levels, the com position o f which has spectro-
graphically been found to be similar to that o f beads o f the same material from
K nossos, ascribable to c, 1600 b.c. On these bases, a rough millennium,
2500-1500 B.C., was regarded as the period o f this great civilization. D uring
the past decade, however, Carbon-14 measurements have been carried out on
materials from K âlibangan, Lothal, Surkotâdâ, and M ohenjo-dàro. While
broadly upholding the above dating, the Carbon-14 determinations indicate a
som ew hat shorter duration o f the civilization, frpm c. 2400 to 1700 B.C. A t the
The ìnilus Civilization 19
same time it must be added that scientists w orking on the subject have ob
served that C arb on -14 activity has not been constant in the past and that there
is a likelihood o f the C-14 dates between 200 d . c . and 4000 b . c . being pushed
back slightly. Again, at M ohenjo-dâro there still remain the unfathomed lower
levels. Thus, it may well be that the beginning o f this civilization was earlier
than that indicated at present by the Carbon-14 dales.
W hat brought the Indus cities to an end has for long been a matter o f de
bate. The occurrence in the habitation area at M ohenjo-dàro o f some human
skeletons, including one o f which the skull bears the mark o f a cut, has been
interpreted as evidence o f a massacre at the hands o f the invading Aryans.
This view, however, now seems untenable. In the first place, the skeletons do
not all belong to one and the same occupation-level, which should also be the
latest, marking the end o f the Indus settlement. Secondly at the site there is no
evidence o f an alien culture immediately overlying the Indus one. T o save the
situation, the post-Indus Cemetery H at Harappà has been brought into the
picture. It has, however, been demonstrated elsewhere by the present writer
that there was an appreciable time-lag between the end o f the Indus civiliza
tion and the beginning o f Cemetery H. Thus the Cemetery H people can
hardly be regarded as the invaders if those invaded had ceased to exist at the
time. And to regard the Cemetery H people as Aryans is fraught with still
greater difficulties. In the present state o f our knowledge, such people are con
spicuously absent from the Ghaggar (ancient Sarasvatl), Salluj, and upper
Ganga valleys— regions where the early Aryans are known from their own
literature to have resided.
Another theory ascribes the end o f the Indus civilization to heavy flooding.
This may, however, be only partly true. For, while some evidence o f devasta
tion by floods is to be found at M ohenjo-dàro and Lothal, there is no such
evidence in respect o f other sites, for example K âlibangan. A t this site, neither
the invader nor the flood can be invoked. Here perhaps the drying up o f the
Ghaggar— gradual or sudden, owing either to climatic changes or to the
diversion o f the waters resulting from factors at or near their source— may
have been the cause o f the desertion o f the site. Pestilence and the erosion o f
the surrounding landscape owing to over-exploitation may also be reasons for
the end o f certain settlements.
Be that as it may, there is enough evidence to show that the great Indus
civilization did not come to a sudden dead end. For example, at Lothal, from
its Period A (Indus) to B (post-Indus), there is a gradual change in the pottery
and the disappearance or replacement by others o f certain kinds o f antiquities.
This devolution is further continued at the neighbouring site o f Rangpur.
Likewise a change o f face is also indicated by the evidence from sites in eastern
Panjâb and north-western Uttar Pradesh, The Indus civilization no doubt fell ;
all the same it left many indelible imprints on the latter-day cultures o f the
subcontinent.
C H A P T E R III
and econom ic spheres (Skt. kfetra- 'fie ld ’, urvarâ ‘ arable land’ : A v. sôidra-
' hom estead’, urvarâ ‘ cro p ’). A division o f society into classes which in India
crystallized into the four-caste system is closely paralleled in Iran,
The evolution o f this com m on inherited culture may be held to have taken
place, in its later stages, in the Central Asian homeland o f the Aryans, and
their residence there, prior to the Indian migration, may have lasted for a
considerable period. A t a still earlier period the evidence points to a local
ization o f the Aryans much further to the west. In the first place the Indo-
European connections o f the A ryan languages, which indicate that they
originated in Europe, make it necessary to assume a still earlier migration
which took them front Europe to Central Asia. In the second place interesting
confirmation o f an earlier Aryan homeland further to the west is provided by
the evidence o f Aryan loan-words in the Finno-Ugrian languages. A n ex
ample is the Finnish word sata ‘ hundred’, which can be shown to represent
phonetically sala- (i.e. the Indo-Aryan and Primitive Indo-Iranian form o f the
word, and not the later Iranian sala-). There is a considerable body o f loans
like this which cannot be derived from Iranian, and which must therefore have
been taken over in the Primitive Indo-Iranian period. A t the time o f these
borrowings, therefore, the A ryans and the ancestors o f the Finno-Ugrians
must have been in close contact. In view o f the present distribution o f the
Finno-U grian languages, and o f their probable ancient situation, it is con
cluded that, when these words were borrowed, the primitive Aryans from
whose language they were taken must have been situated not further east than
the V olga and .the Urals. It was only after the period o f their influence on
Finno-Ugrian that the main centre o f the Aryans shifted towards Central
Asia.
A t this stage, which may be provisionally fixed towards the beginning o f the
second millennium b . c ., we are already dealing with the Aryans as a separate
community, already detached from the other branches o f the lndo-Europeans.
A t a still earlier stage, say the middle o f the third millennium B.C., a situation
must be assumed in which the speakers o f the language from which the later
A ryan tongues were derived were still members o f the original Indo-
European com m unity, and their language was a dialect o f Indo-European,
not having developed into a separate language o f the group, as it had done
during the stage previously referred to (2000-1500 B.C.). This assumption im
plies an original location still further to the west, and for this also linguistic
evidence can be produced. Out o f all the languages o f the Indo-European
fam ily, the Balto-Slavonic group shows signs o f having had the closest rela
tionship with Indo-Iranian. Since these languages are not likely to have
moved far from the region where they are first historically attested, this con
nection is a useful pointer to the earliest place o f origin o f the Indo-Iranian
fam ily.
In addition to many other special similarities the two groups are charac
terized by an early palatalization (illustrated by Skt. satani, A v . satani ‘ hun
d red ’ , as opposed to L at. centum), which is also found in Albanian and
Arm enian. On the strength o f this common innovation, these languages are
usually considered to form a special group am ong the Indo-European lan
guages, and are termed the satani languages, after the Avestan word for
The Early Aryans 23
‘ hundred’. It does in fact seem likely that this change took place at such an
early period that the ancestors o f all these languages were still in contact. In
addition to these special relationships Indo-Iranian also shows evidence o f a
special relationship with G reek, w hich is particularly noticeable in the m or
phology o f the verb.
W ith other Indo-European languages Indo-Iranian shows no sign o f
special connection. This is not to be expected in the case o f the western Indo-
European languages (Italic, Celtic, Germ anic) in view o f their geographical
situation. Hittite and the kindred languages o f A sia M inor are in a special
position, since they show such profound differences from the more fam iliar
type o f Indo-European that it is necessary to assume their very early separa
tion. These peoples must have passed over from the Balkans into A sia M in or
at a period long preceding their earliest appearances in the written historical
record. M ore problematical is the case o f the two closely related languages,
conventionally styled Tochârian A and B, o f which manuscript remains were
discovered in Chinese Turkestan at the beginning o f the present century. In
view o f their situation it might have been expected that they would have
shown some signs o f closer contact with Indo-Iranian, but o f this there is no
indication whatever. T hey further show no sign o f any particular connection
w ith any other section o f Indo-European, and these facts are best explained by
the assumption o f an early separation o f this group (though not as early as
the separation o f Hittite, etc.). T h e later eastward expansion o f the A ryan
tribes outlined above must have been responsible fo r pushing them further
and further to the east, until they finally settled in Chinese Turkestan. There
are no linguistic traces o f early contacts between the two groups, and it is
only much later that the influence o f Iranian on Tochârian can be noted.
.So far we have bad to rely entirely on linguistic relationships to account fo r
the origin and early movements o f the Aryans. A fter about 1500 B.C. docu
mentary evidence becomes available, not from India and Iran, the countries
o f their permanent settlement, but from the N ear East, where a section o f
Aryans established a temporary domination which was to have no lasting
effects. The documentary evidence from this quarter consists o f a number o f
proper names, some names o f gods, and some words, from which the pre
sence o f Aryans in this region during the period 1500-1300 B.C. can be de
duced. They appear always in connection with the Hurrians, a non-Indo-
European people o f local origin, w ho were also engaged in considerable ex
pansion at the time. In particular the Hurrian state o f M itanni, to ju d ge by
the names o f its kings, was, during its most influential period, under the
domination o f A ryan kings backed up by an Aryan aristocracy. Other m inor
states in Syria had rulers with similar A ryan names.
These A ryans did not come in sufficient numbers to impose their own
language and civilization on the country in which they had settled ; they seem
always to have used Hurrian as their official language, and after the end o f
this period they were absorbed into the native population without leaving
any further trace. The most im portant document is a treaty between the
Hittite and M itanui kings, in which appear fou r divine names fam iliar from
the Veda, namely, Indra, Varuna, M itra, and N âsatya. In addition Surias,
meaning the sun-god, appears in a document o f the Kassites (who other-
26 The Early Aryans
domination, but where their numbers were too small to prevent their absorp
tion after a few generations into the native population.
The area occupied by the Aryans continued to expand in the period repre
sented by the later V edic texts, and there was a shift eastwards in the centre o f
gravity. By the time o f the Brâhmanas the centre o f Aryan civilization had be
come the country o f the Kurus and Pancâlas, corresponding roughly to
m odern U ttar Pradesh, while the western settlements in the Panjâb were less
important. Further expansion to the east had taken place and the m ost im
portant states in this region were K osala, K âéî, and Videha. T he m ain A ryan
advance a t this period was down the Ganga valley, keeping prim arily to the
north o f the river. It is likely that the main route o f m igration follow ed the
foot-hills o f the Him alaya, avoiding in the first instance the densely forested
country surrounding the river itself. B y far the greater num ber o f tribes and
kingdoms mentioned in the texts o f this period lay to the north o f the G anga.
Those lying to the south, e.g. the Cedis, the Satvants, and the kingdom o f
Vidarbha, were much fewer, and more rarely mentioned. T he A ryans were at
this time surrounded by a variety o f non-Aryan tribes, o f which a list is p ro
vided by the Aitareya Brahmano: Andhras, Pundras, M ütibas, Pulindas, and
Sabaras. The countries o f Anga and M agadha appear from the sources to
have been only partially Aryanized.
In the jR.goeda the conflict between  rya and D asyu figured prom inently,
reflecting, as we have seen, a prolonged armed struggle in which the A ryans
finally emerged as the undisputed victors. Such references cease in the later
Vedic literature, and the term D asyu, as applied to non-A ryan peoples, is
com paratively rare. On the other hand the term Nifâda, applied to primitive
forest-dwellers, is com paratively frequent. The explanation is that the nature
o f the A ryan advance and settlement had changed. Once the Indus civiliza
tion had been overthrown, and the greater part o f its territory occupied, there
remained no advanced civilized states to contend with. T h e G angâ valley
seems at this time to have been thinly populated by forest tribes, possessing
no advanced civilization and unable to offer any coherent resistance to the
Aryans. T h e colonization that'took place down the valley, at first principally
to the north o f the river, was mainly a matter o f clearing forests and founding
agricultural settlements, a continuous and prolonged process extending over
centuries. In the uncleared forest regions the primitive tribes o f Nifâdas con
tinued to reside in the midst o f A ryan territory, and relations between the two
seem to have been established on a basis o f mutual toleration. N aturally as the
activity o f forest-clearing proceeded the scope for the independent existence o f
the forest-tribes became more limited, and sections o f them, under such
names as Pukkasa and C àpdàla, attached themselves to the fringe o f A ryan
society, form ing the nucleus o f w hat were to becom e eventually the depressed
classes.
The third stage in the Aryan occupation o f India falls within the period
800-550 B.C. It has been observed that at the beginning o f this period, accord
ing to the evidence o f the Brâhmanas, the portion o f India occupied by the
Aryans was still com paratively limited, and that they were surrounded by a
ring o f non-Aryan peoples, some o f whose names are mentioned. A very
much wider extension o f A ryan language and culture can be observed at the
28 The Early Aryans
time o f the rise o f Buddhism and Jainism, towards the end o f the sixth century
B.C. O bviously the intervening period had been one o f extensive migration and
colonization. The result was that the boundaries o f Âryâvarta, the country o f
the A ryans, were defined as the H im àlaya and Vindhya mountains to the
north and south, and the eastern and western oceans. One o f the main lines o f
expansion at this time lay to the south-west, embracing A vanti and adjacent
regions, and extending as far as Asm aka and M ülaka in the region o f the upper
G odavari. T h e advance to the east continued with the occupation o f the
greater part o f Bengal (Pundra, Suhma, Vanga, etc.) and Orissâ (Ralinga).
T h e areas to the south o f the G anga connecting these tw o lines o f advance
were also progressively brought within the Aryan fold. References to these
events can be found scattered throughout the epics and Purânas, ,of which it
will be sufficient to mention the foundation o f D vàrakâ on the west coast
ascribed to K rspa, and the activities o f the Haihayas and allied tribes in
A van ti. T h e over-all result was that by the end o f the sixth century B.C. the
portion o fln d ia occupied by A ryans was vastly increased, and the currency
o f the Indo-Aryan language was correspondingly extended. A map repre
senting the extent o f the A ryan occupation-at the end o f this period would
probably show a general correspondence w ith the boundaries o f Indo-Aryan
in a m odern linguistic m ap. A fter this, A ryan influence further south, in
D ravidian India, was a matter o f cultural penetration, not, as previously, o f
conquest and settlement.
D u rin g the Brâhmana period the Aryans maintained in essentials their
ethnic identity and their V edic culture. There was considerable internal de
velopment, and, in particular, the brahmans increased their status and
strengthened their organization'. The ritual was enormously developed, and
the texts on which w e depend for a picture o f the period are mainly concerned
with this. This state organization was stabilized and developed, and a variety
o f oflices are recorded, even though their precise functions are not always
clear. T h e political units becam e larger and the stale began to replace the
tribe. There were considerable advances in material culture, as attested by
both literature.and archaeology. C ity life began again in a small way, since a
number o f places mentioned, e.g. K âm pilya, Paricakrà, Asandivant, appear
to (lave been towns rather than villages.
T h e rapid expansion during the period 800-550 b.c. had the result that in
the new territories the Aryans were much more thinly spread than in the old,
and they were to a greater extent mixed with the pre-existing population. This
fact is noted in some ancient texts. F o r instance the Baudhâyana Dharmasütra
says that the peoples o f A van ti, A n ga, M agadha, Suràçtra, Dakçinâpatha,
U p à vft, Sindhu, and Sauvlra are o f mixed origin (sankinja-yoni-), and further
lays down an offering o f atonem ent for those who visit the countries o f the
A rattas, the K âraskaras, the Pundras, the Sauviras, the Vangas, the K alingas,
and the Prânünas. These lists cover a large part o f the territories colonized
during the period S00-550 B.C., and attest to the fact that these territories
were only imperfectly Aryanized in contrast to what had happened in the
earlier periods. The lists also contain the names o f a number o f non-Aryan
tribes, m any o f which still no doubt retained their identity and language.
The influence o f the pre-Aryans on Aryan culture should probably be re
The Early Aryans 29
garded as having begun to take effect during this period, and it is associated
with the transition from the Vedic civilization to the later Hindu civilization.
This was probably also the time when the epic traditions, later to culminate in
the Mahàbhârata and the Ràtnâyana, began to take shape. N ew developments
in religion which eventually evolved into the later Hinduism, which contrasts
in many ways with the Vedic religion, also had their first beginnings in this
period. The great increase in the complexity o f the caste system which charac
terizes later Hindu civilization was also stimulated at this time by the neces
sity of somehow fitting into the framework o f A ryan society a large variety o f
previously independent tribes, who in many parts o f the newly conquered
area must have formed the majority o f the population. The Aryan culture,
based on the V edic culture, remained the centralizing factor, but from now on
it was more subject to non-Aryan influences. T he influence o f Aryan civiliza
tion was felt latest in the D ravidian south. T h e first Aryan colonization o f
Ceylon is supposed to have taken place about the time o f Buddha, and the
earliest Aryan penetration in south India is likely to have occurred about the
same time. Later the M aurya Empire was in control o f most o f the D eccan,
only the Tam il princes o f the extreme south remaining independent. The
Sâtavàhana Empire which followed also represented Aryan domination and
penetration in this, region, as can be seen from the fact that the official lang
uage o f this dynasty and o f some o f its immediate successors was M iddle
Indo-Aryan. This political influence was associated with the spread o f reli
gions from north India, both Brahmanical and Buddhist or Jaina. In contrast,
however, to the previous stages o f expansion, the Aryan language was not
permanently imposed on this region, and after about a .d . 500 Kannada, and
later Telugu, began to be used in inscriptions. Gradually the native D ravidian
element gained the upper hand, and the boundaries between A ryan and
Dravidian India were restored to a line representing the limit o f A ryan con
quests about 500 b.c. A t the same time the whole subcontinent was united by
a common culture, o f which the Aryans were the original founders, but to
which Dravidians and others also made their contributions.
C H A P T E R IV
T h e word that has come down to us as ‘ D ravidian’ has had à very long
history as a referential term for the southern portion o fln d ia . Greek geo
graphers knew the area as Damirica or Limyrikê: ‘ Then come N aura and
Tyndis, the first marts o f D am irica.’ * ‘ 8. Lim yrikê: Tyndis, a city . . ,’ 3
T h e latter reference reminds one o f course o f the legendary Atlantis o f the
Indian Ocean, Lemuria, supposedly inhabited by lemurs. It will be noticed
that both Greek forms, Damirica and Limyrikê, have an r at the beginning o f
the third syllable. T hey too had difficulty with a D ravidian sound.in the source-
w ord, as will be seen shortly.
Sanskrit sources have Dravidi and Damili, and later Dramida and Dràvida,
the immediate sources o f our ‘ D ravidian ’ . It seems likely that all these words
are to be connected ultimately with a non-Indo-Âryan word, possibly in the
form in which we have it today, namely, Tamil. The last sound o f this word, a
retroflex affricate, is one peculiar to one or two languages in the south o f
India, and has been dispensed with in two o f the main ones, Telugu and
K annada. Clearly, G reek and Sanskrit had difficulties with it, and did their
best, as shown above. There is, however, no justification for assuming that, at
the period o f the classical geographers, the word meant the Tam il language as
at present differentiated from other south Indian tongues. It seems more
likely that there was at that time a relatively undifferentiated non-Indo-Âryan
speech in the south to which the term Proto-Dravidian is usually applied. Such
a situation must have obtained long before the earliest surviving literary or
other records in what is now the Tamil-speaking area o f south-east India.
Such records can be with some assurance assigned to a period around the
third century b . c . for inscriptions, and to one about the commencement o f the
Christian era for literature. Both are recognizable as Tam il, and we have no
evidence o f any sort for any other distinct Dravidian speech from so early a
date. Indeed there is some evidence that points the other w ay; at the level o f
court-poetry at least, Tam il was still used in the area where M alayâlam is now
spoken at the time o f the earliest extant Tam il literature. This region was
known in Tam il as èeranSdu, and in Sanskrit as Kerala.*
■The author’s originat.transliteration o f Tarait words, following the system o f the Madras
University Tamil Lexicon, which is standard nowadays among specialists, has been simpli
fied and adapted for the benefit o f the general reader, except in the case o f a few words dis
cussed in their linguistic context. The letter transliterated here as i will be found in other
chapters expressed as ch, according to its usual pronunciation in Indo-Aryan languages.
[Ed.] 1 Periplits 53 ; See K . A . Nilakanta Sastri, Foreign Notices o f South India, p. 57.
’ Ptolemy, Geography, vii. I, See J. W. McCrindle, Ancient India, pp. 48^9.
4 Kerala probably preserves a Proto-Dravidian velarized Keral. See T. Burrow in BSOAS,
i t (1943). 126. In the Tamil anthology-poems the icings o f this region were called Serai,
pl. Éeraiar.
The Early Draoidians 31
Proto-D ravidian, then, was a non-Indo-Âryan speech, and it follows from
this that the languages we know as D ravidian languages are distinct too. It
lies beyond the scope o f this essay to enter into a detailed linguistic discussion
as to the differences. One o f the characteristics o f the D ravidian, as o f the
Turkic languages, is w hat is known as agglutination, whereby suffixes, them
selves often recognizable as connected with meaningful roots, are added to
nouns and verbs to inflect their meaning, providing case-endirigs, for ex
ample. For instance, the locative casc-suffix in Tam il, -il, w ould seem to be
connected with the word for ‘ house’ in various D ravidian languages; T am il
has il, Telugu illu, etc. N um ber and case are indicated by two distinct suffixes,
in that order, e.g. Tam . nun ‘ fish’, minai ‘ fish’ (accusative), mfngal ‘ fishes’ ,
nungajai ‘ fishes’ (acc.). N otice that the case-suffix in the plural is the same as
in the singular. It will be recalled that quite a different situation obtains in
Indo-European or Indo-Aryan languages, where one set o f single suffixes is
used in the singular and a different set in the plural, wherein such suffixes de
note both case and number.
Follow ing from the readily analysable nature o f agglutinative languages, a t
least in a primitive or theoretical stage, it can be seen that to write such lang
uages in a pictographic or ideographic script is an attractive possibility. O f
recent years, D ravidian has been the strongest contender for the-language o f
the as yet undeciphered M ohenjo-dâro seal characters. These appear on about
2,000 seals as short inscriptions accom panying rather conventionalized
pictures o f animals, the bull figuring prom inently am ong them .4
It will at once be clear that we are speaking o f an area very distinct geo
graphically from that o f present-day D ravidian languages w hich is that o f
peninsular India south o f a line from, say, G o a on the west coast to G anjâm
on the east. The area o f the M ohenjo-dâro and Harappà city-cultures is that
o f the Indus valley, in Sind and the Panjâb. But, just as in Britain and western
Europe the Celtic languages, once widely prevalent, were pushed westwards
to the A tlantic coast, extending from north-west Spain to the Hebrides, by
intrusive languages from the east, it has been argued that D ravidian languages
were once prevalent throughout India, being pushed southwards by the in
vasions o f Indo-Âryan speakers from the north-west, a m ovem ent that, it is
pretty clear, took place between about 2500 and 1500 b .c . T hat there were
D ravidian languages in the north would be mere speculation were it not for the
fact that, to this day, .there remains a pocket o f D ravidian speech, the
language Bràhüï, spoken by about 250,000 people in the highlands o f
Baluchistan, on the Pakistan-Afghanistari border. N otw ithstanding the
meagre nature o f the historical evidence,6 it seems more reasonable to assume
a relict status for Bràhüï, rather than an improbable migration from the plains
o f D ravidian speakers some 800 miles aw ay, and the exchange o f a settled
agricultural regime for a harsh, nom adic, and pastoral one.
On the assumption then that D ravidian languages were once widely pre
valent in the subcontinent and that they were displaced by Indo-Aryan in the
north, the attractiveness o f them as the language o f the city-cultures o f
Pakistan becomes clear. T he .most im portant and recent statement o f this
1 For a recent account o f these cultures see S. Piggott, Prehistoric India, pp. 132-289;
e See M . B. Emeneau, Brahui and Dravidian Comparative Grammar, p. I.
32 The Early Draoidians
7 Publications Nos. 1 and 2, Copenhagen, 1969, N o . 3, Copenhagen, 1970. The theory was
previously advanced, somewhat romantically perhaps, by such writers as H . Heras, Studies
in Proto-Jndo-Mediterranean Culture, Vol. 1, Bombay, 1933.
‘ See Parpola et ai. in Publication No. r, pp. 18-19.
9 See N . Lahovary, Dravidian Origins and the West, Bombay, 1964.
10 See R . Caldwell, A Comparative Grammar o f the Dravidian or South-Indian Family o f
Languages, 3rd edn., pp. 61 R. The original edition o f this work, in 1856, effectively marked
the commencement o f the study o f Dravidian linguistics, and a good deal o f Bishop
Caldwell’s work has yet to be surpassed. 11 Piggott, op. cit., p. 38
The Early Dravidians 33
and Caucasian megaliths o f sites such as Brahmagiri via the Sialk B graves in
Iran; the'connection m ay have been by sea.’ 2 It may be speculative to assign
Dravidian speech to any one particular racial type but it has been suggested
that brachycephalic Arm enoid types in India, having affinities in Arm enia,
Anatolia, and Iran, brought D ravidian into India. W hile there are, then,
reasonable hypotheses on linguistic, cultural, and anthropological grounds for
suggesting that D ravidian languages originated outside India, specifically
in western A sia, there is as yet no direct evidence for the existence o f
D ravidian outside the subcontinent,12 nor for its currency in the north other
than that afforded by Bràhüï. T he M ohenjo-dâro seals are not yet read, nor is
their language or its structures identified for certain.
However, we can look back a little further than 200 B.C ., a possible date for
south Indian megalithic culture, for definite record o f D ravidian; this is pro
vided by the south Indian Bràhroï inscriptions mentioned earlier, and these
date from the third century B.C. T he first o f the seventy-six known inscriptions
was discovered by V en koba R a o in 1903 some 23 miles north-east o f M adurai.
There are in addition twenty short graffiti in the same script on pottery from
Arikkam edu, an im portant site on the east coast o f Tam ilnadu, excavated by
Wheeler in 1943 and by others since. The first certain identification o f their
language as being O ld Tam il was made by K . V . Subrahm anya A y y ar and
presented by him at the Third All-India Oriental Conference, held in M adras
in 1924.'* T h e most im portant and recent work on these inscriptions is that o f
I. M ahadevan and R . Panneerselvam .” They shòw that the inscriptions con
firm certain kings and place-names mentioned in the earliest extant Tam il
literature, o f roughly the same date.
M ahadevan’s brilliant w ork demonstrates that, as early as the third to
second centuries b . c ., the main m odifications to the ‘ A ll-In d ia’ syllabary o f
36 consonants and to vowels plus diphthongs had been m ade to equip the
script suitably for writing T am il: the consonants had been reduced to 18, by
the rem oval o f letters for the voiced plosives, aspirated plosives, and sibilants,
and by the addition o f characters to represent T am il retroflex / and / and
alveolar r and //. A s for vowels, these were reduced to 9 by the omission o f
the diphthong au, the-existence in Tam il o f separate short ë and Ô not being
recognized in this script (or until the time o f Beschi in the eighteenth century).
M ahadevan established an important phenomenon in these inscriptions, the
use o f the character for medial à to represent medial a also, the vow el con
sidered inherent in all consonants in all other Indian scripts and in those in
South-East A sia developed from them. Thus there was no need for a ‘ killer’
sym bol to remove this inherent vowel, such as the viratila in Sanskrit, and
11 V. Gordon Childe, ' M egaliths’ in Ancient India, 4 (1947-8). T he antiquity and im
portance o f the sea link between southern peninsular India and the Middle Hast (and later,
via the Middle East, with the Roman Empire) cannot be exaggerated.
” Comparable, for example, with the close affinities with Vedic Sanskrit o f Old Iranian,
both linguistically and in subject-matter o f hymns.
14 See Proceedings thereof, pp. 275-300.
15 Sec R . Pannccrsclvam, ' A n Important Brahmi Tamil Inscription’ in Proceedings o f the
First International Conference-Scntinar o f Tamil Studies, Kuala Lumpur, IIA T R 1968, and
I. Mahadevan, ‘ Tam il Brahmi Inscriptions o f the Sangant Age ' in Proceedings o f the Second
International Conference-Seniinar o f Tantii Studies, Madras, IIA T R 1971.
34 The Early Dravidians
A s o k a n India and the G upta age are the terminal points o f a span o f one
thousand years, from the fourth century b .c . to the sixth century a .d . The
span extends over a period o f considerable historical change; yet it is possible
to perceive an underlying continuity. T he origin o f institutions which were to
mould Indian culture is frequently traceable to this period. The A sokan age
^aw the establishment o f a centralized imperial structure which embraced
almost the entire subcontinent and rested on a methodically organized and
efficient bureaucracy. This was the first time that the imperial idea found ex
pression in India. In the subsequent period the personality o fln d ia acquired
new contours and delineations which were both the result o f an imperial
system and the foreshadowing o f other patterns. T h e G upta age, for a brief
period, cam e close in spirit to the government o f the M auryas, but it carried
the seeds o f a new political system— the early stages o f a feudal-type organiza
tion— which was pot conducive to empire building. T h e G upta age is better
remembered as the age which saw the triumph o f Sanskritic culture in many
parts o f the subcontinent.
Chandragupta M aurya conquered M agadha (south Bihar) and in 321 b .c .
founded the M auryan D ynasty with his capital at Pà{aliputra (in the vicinity
o f modern Patnâ). He proceeded to annex Various parts o f northern India and
campaigned against the Greek, Seleucus N icator, the form er general o f
Alexander. T h e successful outcome o f this campaign brought him the trans
Indus region and areas o f Afghanistan. His son, Bindusâra, continued the
campaign into peninsular India. But-it Was his grandson ASoka who, inherit
ing the subcontinent, established an all-India empire and discovered both the
advantages and problems inherent in'such a political structure.
T he mechanics o f a centralized empire cam e into existence after a lengthy
germination involving the life and d eath of numerous kingdoms and republics
in northern India from the sixth century b .c . onwards. Perhaps the earliest
glimmerings o f empire were visible to the Nandas, the dynasty which immedi
ately preceded the M auryas, though the actual birth o f empire had to wait until
the arrival o f the latter. AÌEoka inherited an efficiently running machine domin
ated by a central administration. The imperial structure was provided with a
base through the spread and establishment o f an agrarian econom y. In later
centuries, in spite o f the contribution o f other types o f economic activity such
as internal and overseas trade, agriculture remained the dominant factor in the
economy, with these other activities providing substantial but subsidiary in
comes.
Land revenue had bee„n recognized as a m ajor sou rceof state income before
the M auryas. The proverbial wealth o f the N andas was doubtless due to their
efficient collection o f revenue from the fertile middle Ganga plain. T h at the
Asokan India and the Gupta Age 39
legitimacy o f taxation had been established b y the time o f the M auryas and
its potentiality in terms o f income recognized, is evident from the references
to land revenue and taxes in K a u faly a ’s Arthalâstra and a significant reference
in the inscriptions o f A so k a .1 A ccord in g to the Arthaiâstra every activity,
from agriculture to gam bling and prostitution, might be subjected to taxation
by the state. N o waste land should be occupied nor a single tree cut down in
the forest without permission from the state, since these were all ultim ately
sources o f revenue. It was conceded that the main item o f incom e was land
revenue and this was dependent on correct assessment and proper collection.
But other activities had also to be controlled and supervised by the state so
that they would yield the maximum revenue.
A ll this necessitated a carefully w orked out bureaucratic system, and from
descriptions o f administration in M auryan sources this seems to have been
achieved. Practically every professional and skilled person was registered and
was under the ultimate control o f a superintendent. The officers were very
well paid, in the b elief that a well-paid bureaucracy was likely to be more
efficient. High salaries could be maintained only i f taxes were rigorously
collected. Thus the two factors o f taxation and administration were inter
linked.
These two factors had a bearing on yet another factor: the arm y and its role
in the politics and econom y o f the M auryan period. A large arm y was not
only essential to vast conquests, it was equally important as a means o f h old
ing the empire together. M auryan rulers were aware o f this. The estimated
strength o f Chandrag'upta’s arm y, according to near-contem porary classical
sources, was 9,000 elephants, 30,000 cavalry, and 600,000 infantry. Even
allowing for a margin o f exaggeration in these figures the M auryan arm y was
a large one by any standards. T o maintain such an army would require a large
state income, and this in turn w ould depend on taxation and the size o f the
kingdom. Thus it was the interdependence o f taxation, adm inistration, and
armed strength which went into the m aking o f a centralized empire.
Control over these factors lay w ith the king, w ho was regarded as the
supreme source o f pow er and authority. T his enabled the king to adopt a
paternalistic attitude towards his subjects, as is evident from A noka’s edicts,
where he says, ‘ A ll men are m y children and just as I desire fo r m y children
that they should obtain welfare and happiness both in this world and the next,
the same do I desire for all men . . . ’ 1 O r as, when referring to his officers in
the rural areas, he writes, ‘ Just as one èntrusts one’s child to an experienced
nurse, and is confident that the experienced nurse is able to care for the child
satisfactorily, so my rajukas have been appointed fo r the w elfare and happi
ness o f the country people . . .’ J '
Paternalism demands a continued contact between king and subjects. The
' Kau(alya, alternatively known as Kaufilya and Cltanakya, was the chief minister o f
Chandragupta Manrya and a work on politicai economy, the Arthaiâslra, is attributed to
him. In its present form the work has been dated by scholars to the second and third cen
turies a.d . But parts o f it appear to reflect notions which were current in the administrative
system o f the Mauryas, W ith regard to land revenue, it is .significant that, on visiting
Lumbinl, A io k a ordered a reduction in land revenue as a favour to the birth-place o f the
Buddha. This is a clear indication o f the importance o f sdch revenue to the M auryan
political and economicsystem. 1 Second Separate R ock Edict. 1 Fourth Pillar Edict.
40 Asokan India and the Gupta Age
M auryan kings, we arc told, were always available for consultation. Megas-
tlicnes, w ho visited India as the am bassador o f Seleucus N icator and stayed
at the M auryan Court during the reign o f Chandragupta, describes the king
receiving complaints and discussing matters o f state even when being mas
saged. A so ka em phatically declares in one o f his edicts that, no m atter where
he m ay be, no member o f the ministerial council should be debarred from
seeing him.
But the availability o f the king was not sufficient. In a system as centralized
as that o f the M auryas it was essential that communication be maintained
with all parts o f the subcontinent and with every level o f society. T his was
done in part by building a network o f roads linking the entire empire with
Pàtaliputra. A so k a ’s justified pride in the excellence o f the roads w hich he had
constructed is corroborated by Pliny the Elder’s enthusiasm in describing the
R oyal H ighw ay which ran from T axila to Pàtaliputra, a distance o f over a
thousand miles.
A t another level, contact with the populace was maintained through the use
o f agents and informants. These were used both to propagate the ideas o f the
king and to bring him reports on public opinion.-1 Frequent tours and the
appointment o f specially trusted inspectors were other means o f com m unica
tion with the people.
A lthough agriculture provided the most substantial part o f the state income
it was n ot the sole source o f revenue. A n indirect source o f income fo r the
M auryan state was the use o f the sfidras, the lowest o f the fou r orders o f
Hindu society, as free labour when so required. The settlement o f new areas,
the opening o f waste land to agriculture, the working o f the state-owned mines
such as the salt mines o f the Panjâb and the iron ore deposits in M agadha,
were som e o f the activities for \yhich Südras, in addition to prisoners o f war
and crim inals, provided labour power.
A m on g the more significant changes which had taken place by the middle
o f the first millennium b . c . was the development o f towns and urban culture.
T he com ing o f A ryan culture, based on pastoralism and agrarian village com
munities, resulted in the entire process o f development from village cultures to
urban cultures being re-experienced in northern India. Towns evolved from
trade centres and craft villages, and consequently the dom inant institution o f
urban life was the guild. B y the end o f the fourth century b . c . artisan and
merchant guilds were an established part o f the urban pattern.
The m anufacture o f goods and trade form ed additional sources o f income
in a tax-oriented system. N o t surprisingly the Ârthasâstra lists a number o f
taxes on goods at various stages o f production and distribution. T h e existence
o f an all-India empire under a single political authority and the excellent
com m unications developed within the subcontinent led to an expansion in
internal trade which added to the growing profits o f the guilds. Ventures in
overseas trade were doubtless encouraged by the protection o f diplom atic
missions sent'by the M auryan emperors. The exchange o f envoys between the
G reek kings o f western A sia and Egypt and the M auryas is on record, as also
♦A similar system was adopted by the Achaemenid kings of Persia, where the inspectors
were called ‘ the king’s eye’ and ‘ the king's e ar’, and also by Charlemagne, i d whose king
dom they were known as the mirri.
Asokan India and the Gupta Age 41
the carious request for gifts such as sophists, singing boys, and wine. T h e close
and friendly ties between ASoka and Tissa, the king o f C eylon, must have re
sulted in greater com munication between the t\Vo countries.
The improved econom ic status o f the guilds introduced complications in
the existing social pattern. G uild leaders became powerful citizens controlling
large econom ic assets. But, in the caste-based society o f this period, the trader
or the artisan was not included am ong the m ost socially privileged citizens.
T h e challenge which the mercantile community presented to the m ore estab
lished sections o f society was yet to com e, but the germinal tensions cam e into
being at this stage. T hat there was an element o f fear on the part o f the
authorities o f the growing power o f the guilds seems evident from the
Arihasâstra, which favours a rigid control o f guild activities. For instance
every guild had to be registered with the local administration and no guild was
allowed to m ove from its location without prior permission.
There was yet another factor which possibly aggravated social tensions. The
two new religions, Buddhism and Jainism, had won the sympathy o f the
artisans and the merchants ; and these religions were heterodox sects 'which
challenged the established order. T h e association o f the emergent urban
groups with dissident thinking and practice would make them suspect in the
eyes o f the orthodox.
These new religions sprang from a considerable intellectual ferment which
had begun earlier in the period, around 600 B . C . A healthy rivalry was apparent
am ong a number o f sects, such as the Chàrvâkas, Jainas, and À jivikas, whose
doctrines ranged from pure materialism to determinism. Th is intellectual
liveliness was reflected in the eclectic interests o f the M auryan rulers, since it
was claimed by the Jainas that Chandragupta was a supporter and there is
evidence that Bindusâra favoured the A jivikas. Close contacts with western
A sia must have provided yet another stream o f unorthodox ideas.
This then was the empire which A so k a inherited. In area a subcontinent,
inhabited by peoples o f many cultures and at many levels o f developm ent; a
society with a wide range o f customs, beliefs, affinities, antagonisms, tensions,
and harmonies. M agadha and the western G anga valley were culturally
Âryanized but the fringes o f this area were less so. T h e north was in close con
tact with the Hellenized culture o f Afghanistan and Iran; the far south was on
the threshold o f the creative efflorescence o f Tam il culture. T o rule such an
empire successfully would have required the perception and the imagination
o f an exceptionally gifted man. This was the challenge which A 3oka attempted
to meet.
For many centuries A soka remained almost unknown to the Indian histori
cal tradition. He was mentioned in the genealogies o f the M auryan kings but
nothing more than the length o f his reign was stated 'about him. A vast
amount o f semi-historical, largely legendary, material 011 his life had been
collected in Buddhist sources but this material practically disappeared from
the Indian tradition with the decline o f Buddhism in India by the end o f the
thirteenth century. It was preserved in Buddhist centres outside India— in
Ceylon, Central A sia, and China. The proclam ations issued by A 3oka were
engraved on rocks and pillars throughout the subcontinent and these, re
mained visible, but unfortunately the Bràhm î script in which they had been
42 Aiokan India and the Gupta Age
engraved had become archaic and the inscriptions could not be read.* H ow
ever, in 1837 the Orientalist James Prinsep deciphered the script. A lthough the
text was now known, the author o f the inscriptions could not be identified,
since he was generally referred to only by his titles— Devânampiya Piyadassi—
The Beloved o f the G ods, o f Gracious Mien— and these were unknown to the
Indian king-Iists. A tentative identification with Aéoka was made in the late
nineteenth century on the evidence from the Buddhist chronicles o f Ceylon.
It was not until 1915 that this identification was confirmed, however, with the
discovery o f an inscription which referred to the author as Devânampiya
Asoka,6
The association o f this name with Buddhist sources led to his edicts being
interpreted almost as Buddhist documents. Undoubtedly Aéoka was a
Buddhist and much o f the ideology o f Dhamma'7 which he enunciated was in
spired by Buddhism. But to equate it.totally with Buddhism and to suggest
that A éoka was propagating Buddhism as the state religion is to read more
into the edicts than was intended by the monarch. A careful analysis o f the in
scriptions reveals that they were o f two categories. Some were addressed
specifically to the Buddhist Church or Sangha and were concerned entirely
with matters relating to the Sangha. T he m ajority o f the inscriptions are. how
ever, addressed to the public at large and deal with questions o f wider inverest.
It is significant that it is in this second category o f inscriptions that the king
expounds his ideas on Dhamma.
It would appear that Aéoka aimed at creating an attitude o f mind am ong his
subjects in which social behaviour had the highest relevance. In the context o f
conditions during the M auryan period, this ideology o f Dhamma may have
been viewed as a focus o f loyalty and as a point o f convergence for the existing
diversities o f people and activities. Dhamma stressed toleration, non-violence,
(where the emperor himself forswore violence and force as means to an end),
respect fo r those in positions o f authority, including both the brahmans and
the Buddhist monks, consideration and kindness towards inferiors, and the
general acceptance o f ideals conducive to human dignity. T he king instituted
a special class o f officers— the officers o f Dhamma— w ho were responsible for
the propagation o f this ideology and w ho worked for the general welfare o f
the people.
Y e t the ideology o f Dhamma died with the death o f the emperor. A s an
attempt to solve the problems o f the time it was perhaps too idealistic. A t the
same time it can hardly be described as a revolutionary doctrine, since it was
largely an emphatic reiteration o f certain existing principles o f ethics. But
credit must be given to the man w ho had the vision to seek such a solution and
the courage to attempt it.
F ifty years after the death o f Aéoka the M auryan Empire had declined.
» One o f the sultans o f Delhi in the fourteenth century, Fîroz Shâh Tughluq, was both
intrigued and impressed by ,nn A io k a n pillar which he found near Delhi, and he had it
removed to his capital. Sut no one could read the inscription on'the pillar or explain its
purpose. 4 Minor Rock Edict at M aski: devtlnampiyassa Asoknssa.
7 The word dhamma is the Pàli form o f the Sanskrit dharma and is almost impossible to
translate adequately into English. Generally accepted renderings are ‘ morality, piety, virtue,
the social order’ .
Asokan India and the Gupta Age 43
Some historians have traced this decline to the policies o f A soka, claim ing
that his pro-Buddhist sympathies led to a brâhm anical revolt against the
M auryan rulers; others have suggested that his adherence to non-violence led
to a weakening o f the military strength o f the empire and laid it open to
attacks, particularly from the north-west. B u t evidence in support o f these
theories is far too slight. Other possibilities m ust also be considered, not least
among them being that the later M auryan kings m ay well have been w eak and
ineffectual rulers, unable to hold together such a vast empire. Furtherm ore
the pressure o f a highly paid bureaucracy and a large arm y could not have
been sustained over a period o f almost 150 years w ithout a strain on an agri
cultural economy. Either these two money-consuming items would have had
to be whittled down and readjusted or in periods o f depression fresh sources
o f income would have had to be found. Finally, the strongest bond in uniting
people into a political entity— the desire on the part o f the people to becom e
a nation— was lacking. T he divergencies in the various parts o f the subcon
tinent were too great to allow the form ation o f a national unit. The doctrine
o f Dhamma, which might have created a common factor o f loyalty, failed to
do so.
The subsequent fragmentation o f the subcontinent was not entirely arbi
trary, for it led to the identification o f geographical areas as political entities.
These (with some modification) were to remain the nuclei o f political units in
the Indian subcontinent for many centuries.
In 185 b .c . the M auryan Empire ceased to exist. The immediate inheritors
o f the M auryas in the G anga heart-land, M agadha, were the Sungas, a brah
man fam ily which had usurped the throne at Pàtaliputra. T h e 3 ungas were to
give way to the K aiivas, to be followed by a series o f minor dynasties until the
rise o f the Guptas in the fourth century a .d . D uring these centuries M agadha
tended to remain somewhat isolated, and few attempts were made by its
rulers to participate in events elsewhere.
Kalinga (a part o f modern Orissa) came to the forefront with the meteoric
rise o f K in g Khâravela, and then subsided into quietude. A biographical
sketch o f K hâravela is available from an inscription, where he asserts his
dominion over the entire M ahânadï delta and claims m any victories over
south Indian kings. Such maritime kingdoms rose sporadically, their pros
perity being due to sea trade and the fertility o f their hinterland, generally a
delta region.
Meanwhile the north-western part o f the subcontinent— the Panjâb and the
Indus valley— was once again being sucked into the vortex o f Iranian and
Central Asian politics. Alexander, after his rapid cam paign through Persia
and north-western India, left behind a number o f governors, w ho on his death
in 323 B.C. declared themselves kings o f the respective provinces w hich they
governed. T h e house o f Seleucus in western A sia and its erstwhile satraps,
the Greek rulers o f Bactria, came into conflict, and gradually the conflict
spilled over into north-western India, involving the stnall and politically isol
ated Indian kingdom s which were unable to h old b ack the Bactrian Greeks.
The latter established themselves in the north-west during the second century
b .c . Fortunately fo r us, these kings were enthusiastic minters o f coins and
their history has been partially reconstructed, largely on numismatic evidence.
44 Asokan India and die Gtipta Age
Further south the Parthians m ade a brief thrust in the region o f Sind, but
could not maintain their power there for long. Events in Central A sia were
now to influence north Indian politics. A nomadic movement originating on
the borders o f China made the Yüeh-chih tribe migrate westwards to the
neighbourhood o f the Caspian Sea, dislodging the existing inhabitants o f this
region, the Sakas (Scythians). Further migrations brought both the Sakas and
the Yüeh-chih to India. T h e early decades o f the first century a . d . saw the
Yüeh-chih settled in northern India and the Sakas concentrated in the region
o f K u tch and K athiaw ar in western India. The Sakas were now neighbours o f
the Sàtavàhana or A ndhra kings, who had established a kingdom centred
around the north-western area o f the Deccan plateau. In time the Sakas found
themselves sandwiched between two important powers, for in the north the
Yüeh-chih or K ushàna kingdom had been consolidated by K anishka, who
not only extended its southern and eastern boundaries as far as M athura and
Varanasi, but also participated in campaigns in Central A sia.8 T o the south
o f the Sakas, the Sàtavàhanas drew their strength from the fact that they were
a bridge between the northern and southern parts o f the subcontinent. This
characteristic o f the D eccan kingdoms, deriving their power from their loca
tion, was to remain an im portant geo-political factor in Indian bistory for
many centuries.
The history o f south India emerges in clearer perspective during the period
between 200 b . c . and A . D . 300, the evidence being that o f archaeology, epi
graphy, and the Sangam literature o f the early Tamils. The extreme south o f
the peninsula, M ysore and beyond, had not been under actual M auryan con
trol, though the relationship between tbe imperial power and the southern
kingdoms was a close and friendly one. This is revealed by A so k a ’s references
to his neighbours in the south, the kingdoms o f the Cholas, Pàndyas, Kerala-
putras, and Satiyaputras, some o f which are also mentioned in the Sangam
literature. A rchaeology provides evidence o f a well-organized megalithic
culture in this region during the M auryan period. Possibly it was in contact
with a similar culture in western A sia, a contact which had its antecedents and
which continued in later centuries.
The anthologies o f Tam il poetry contain am ong other things descriptive
narrations o f events, both actual and imagined, in the context o f early tribal
society in south India. Conflicts am ong the kingdoms were perpetual, because
each had two objectives— to control the fertile deltas, the only regions where
agriculture was possible on a large scale, and to have access to the im portant
trading stations along the coasts which were lucrative sources o f revenue,
since m any o f them traded with the Yavanas, the peoples o f western A sia .'
The fragm entation o f the subcontinent which took place during this period
m ay have been politically emasculating, but it was at this time that a new and
vital interest cam e to be introduced into econom ic development. It was the
age when India discovered the potential wealth inherent in trade. Despite the
* In fact the prestige o f Kanishka is such that the inauguration o f the much-used éaka era
o f a . d . 78 is frequently attributed to him. His date is very uncertain, however, and recent
estimates vary between this date and the third century a . d .
• Yavana, a back formation from the Prakrit word Yona, is believed to refer originally to
Ionian Greeks and came to be used for any o f the trading peoples o f western Asia— the
Greeks, the Romans, and in later centuries the Arabs.
Asokan India and the Gupta Age 45
many political frontiers, internal trade increased very considerably. The
woollen blankets o f Gandbàra and tbc linen o f Bengal were fam iliar to all parts
o f the country, as were the precious stones from south India. But even more
relevant to the economic prosperity o f India was the overseas trade. Indian
traders ventured out in all directions: to Central Asia and China, to'western
Asia, and in South-East A sia as far as the kingdom o f Funan in modern
Vietnam. Indian merchants became the middlemen in the commerce between
South-East Asia and the Mediterranean-. They were the entrepreneurs in the
trade supplying the needs and luxuries o f the Graeco-Rom an world, a topic
which is dealt with elsewhere (ch. xxx) in this book.
This increase in trade resulted quite naturally in the greater prosperity o f
the guilds. Guilds became not only the basis for the production and distribu
tion o f merchandise but also the financial centres o f trade. The Sâtavâhana
rulers, for instance, often gave to religious charities donations which came
from money invested with guilds.-The intensification o f the guild system in
fluenced sub-caste relations within caste society, for each guild tended to be
come a sub-caste drawing on its own resources for manpower. Thus even in
urban areas the economic hasis o f the organization o f caste society became
firmer. W ith the accumulation o f wealth in the hands o f guiLds and merchants,
patronage o f learning and the arts was no longer limited toToyalty. N o t sur
prisingly, some o f the most magnificent Buddhist mcjnuments are o f this
period and many o f them owe their existence to the donations o f wealthy
guilds and merchants. T he stupas at SânchI, Bhârhut, and Am aravatl stand
witness to this.
Together with Indian traders went the brâhmans and the Buddhist mis
sionaries. Western Asia came into contact with them in the centuries before
Christ. China received its first Buddhist mission in a . d . 68 at Loyang. In the
early centuries after Christ, Buddhists were active in Funan and Cham pa.
Meanwhile Buddhism itself had undergone a considerable change, with
doctrinal differences creating a split which was form ally recognized at the
Fourth Buddhist Council, held according to tradition during the reign o f
Kanishka; and two groups o f Buddhists were established, the Mahâyâna and
the Hlnayma. Missionaries o f M ahâyâna sects established themselves in
Central A sia, China, and Japan. Hînayâna Buddhism was more popular in
Ceylon, and later it ousted the M ahâyâna in South-East Asia.
W ith increasing contact through commerce between the various parts o f the
known world, the communication o f ideas between these regions improved.
For instance, Indian astronomers discovered thé existence o f G raeco-R om an
astronomy: Graeco-Rom an art, particularly o f the Alexandrian variety, not
only found admirers in north-western India and Afghanistan but became the
model for a hybrid local school which ârt-historians have subsequently
called Gandhâra art. Y e t another result was the arrival o f Christian teaching
in India, which according to the legends came in the mid-first century a . d . ,
brought by St. Thom as.
The political fragmentation o f the subcontinent did not put an end to the
dream o f an empire as vast as that o f the Mauryas. A n attempt was made by
kings o f the Gupta family to establish such an empire in the early part o f the
fourth century a . d .
46 Asokan India and the Gupta Age
The Guptàs were in origin probably a fam ily o f wealthy landowners who
gradually attained both econom ic power and political status. U nlike the
founder o f the Mauryan D ynasty, who is described as an adventurous young
man with no significant antecedents, the founder o f the Gupta Dynasty, also
called Chandra G upta, belonged to a fam ily which had established its power
at a local level 'in M agadha. A judicious marriage with a Licchavi princess
gave him additional prestige, the Licchavis claiming a long-established re
spectability. Following his coronation as king o f M agadha in a . d . 319-20
Chandra Gupta too k the title o f nmhârâjâdhirâja— Great King o f Kings.
In about a . d . 335 his son, Samudra G upta, inherited the kingdom o f
M agadha. He issued a series o f beautifully executed gold coins in which he is
depicted both as a conqueror and as a musician, a strange combination o f
interests. Fortunately for later historians a lengthy panegyric on him was
composed by oue o f his high officials and engraved on an A io k a n pillar which
has since been brought to Allahabad. T h e inscription refers among other
things to the martial exploits o f Samudra G upta; to the kings uprooted and
the territory annexed in the northern part o f the subcontinent. It mentions
also the long march which Samudra G upta undertook in the south, reaching as
far as Kânchïpuram. N or are the tributes from foreign kingdoms omit
ted. Mention is made o f the Ssakas, Ceylon, various Iranian rulers o f the
north-west and the inhabitants o f all the islands. The latter m ay refer to
Indian trading stations 011 the islands o f South-East Asia and in the Indian
ocean. .
The nucleus o f the G upta kingdom , as o f the Mauryan Empire, was the
Ganga heartland. This and the adjoining territory to the west were the only
regions over which Samudra G upta had absolute and unchallenged control.
Gupta control o f the Deccan was uncertain and had to be propped up with a
matrimonial alliance, a G upta princess marrying a prince o f the Yâkàtaka
Dynasty o f the D eccan, the successors to the Sâtavàhana power. This secured
a friendly southern frontier for the Guptas, which was necessary to Samudra
G upta’s successor, Chandra G upta II, when he led a campaign against the
Sakas in western India.
It was during the reign o f Chandra G upta II that G upta ascendancy was at
its peak. His successful cam paign against the §akas, resulting in the annexa
tion o f western India, was, however, not his only achievement. Like his pre
decessor, he was a patron o f poets, philosophers, scientists, musicians, and
sculptors. This period saw the crystallization o f what came to be the classical
norm in ancient India on both the political and the cultural levels.
The Gupta kings took exalted titles such as mahârâjâdhirâja paramabhat-
târaka— Great K in g o f K ings, the Supreme Lord. This was in striking contrast
to the M auryas who, though politically far more powerful, never used such
exalted titles. Superficially G upta administration was similar to that o f the
M auryas. The king was the highest authority and the kingdom was divided
into a hierarchy o f administrative units— provinces, districts, and groups o f
villages— each with its own range o f officers responsible to the most senior
officer in the unit. Y e t there was a significant différence between G upta and
M auryan administration: during the G upta period there was far greater stress
011 local administration and far less direct control from the centre. Even in
Asokan India and the Gupta Age 47
urban administration, the C ity Boards consisted o f representatives o f local
opinion and interest (such as the heads o f guilds and artisan and m erchant
bodies) rather than officers o f state.
A parallel tendency was developing in the agrarian system, particularly in
the sphere o f land revenue. T he revenue was still collected by the king’s
officers, but they retained a certain predetermined percentage in lieu o f a
regular cash salary. This procedure o f payment to officers cam e to be adopted
with increasing frequency. On occasion the king would even grant the revenue
from an area o f land or a village to non-officials, such as brahmans renowned
for their learning. Inscriptions recording such grants are known from the
early centuries a .d . onwards. Since a m ajor part o f the state revenue came
from the land, grants o f revenue were gradually to cause a radical change in
the agrarian system. Although it was the revenue alone which was granted, it
became custom ary to treat the land itself as part o f the grant. Technically the
■king could resume the grant, but in fact he seldom did so. T h e lessening o f
central control in any case weakened the authority o f the king and em pha
sized local independence, an emphasis which increased in times o f political
trouble. T h e recipient o f the grant came to-be regarded as the lord o f the land
and the local patron, and he attracted local loyalty towards himself. T h e more
obvious shift in emphasis from central to local power took place later, but its
origin can be traced to the G upta period. However, the more forceful o f the
;Gupta kings still kept authority in their hands and continued to be regarded
as the lords o f the land par excellence.
Patronage requires the easy availability o f money, and the G upta kings had
the financial wherewithal to be patrons on a lavish scale. T he steady stream
o f revenue from the land was augmented by incom e from commercial activity.
Indian trading stations were dotted throughout the islands o f South-East
A sia, M alaysia, Cam bodia, and Thailand, T h e gradual acceptance o f many
features o f Indian culture in these areas must doubtless have been facilitated
by activities such as commerce. Indian merchants carried spices from Java to
Socotra or were busy participating in the trade between China and the
Mediterranean lands via the Central Asian ‘ Silk R o u te’ , n ot to mention the
increasing trade within the suboontinent itself. G oods were transported by
pack animals and ox-drawn carts, and by water when rivers were navigable.
The literature o f the period is replete with descriptions o f the m arvels and
wonders witnessed by sailors and merchants in distant lands. There are
frequent references to rich financiers and wealthy guilds. T h e textile guilds
had a vast market, both domestic and foreign. Ivory-workers, stone-workers,
metal-workers, and jewellers all prospered in the econom ic boom . Spices,
pepper, sandalwood, pearls, precious stones, perfutne, indigo, herbs, and
textiles were exported in large quantities. Am ongst ,the m ore lucrative im
ports were silk from China and horses from Central A sia and A rabia.
Some o f the wealth o f merchants and princes was donated to religious
causes\ Large endowments had made the Buddhist Church extremely pow er
ful, anil provided com fortable if not luxurious living for m any Buddhist
monks in the more important monasteries. These endowments enabled the
monasteries to own land and to em ploy labour to w ork it. T h e surplus income,
from such sources was invested in commercial enterprises which at times were
48 Alokan India and the Gupta Age
the mountains into north-western India. Slow ly the trickles became streams
as the Hünas thrust further into India. The successor o f Kuraâra Gupta,
Skanda Gupta ( a .d . 454-67) had to bear the brunt o f the Hüna attacks, which
were by now regular invasions. G upta power weakened rapidly. By the early
sixth century the Hüna rulers Toram âna and M ihirakula claimed the Panjâb
and Kashm ir as part o f their kingdom.
Once again northern India experienced migrations o f people from Central
Asia and Iran, and a pattern o f readjustment followed. The com ing o f the
Hünas not only created political disorder but also put into motion new
currents whose momentum was felt for centuries to come. The migration o f
the Hünas and other Central Asian tribes accompanying them and their
settling in northern India resulted in displacements o f population. This dis
turbance led in turn to changes in the caste structure, with the emergence o f
new sub-castes. The rise o f many small kingdoms was also due to the general
confusion prevalent during this period.
W ith the decline <jf the G uptas the northern half o f the subcontinent
splintered into warring kingdoms, each seeking to establish itself as a sove
reign power. But, unlike the picture at the end o f the M auryan period,this
sovereignty was to be based on a distinct regionalism which, though blurred
and confused at first, achieved clarity in later centuries. The successors o f the
Guptas attempted to recreate an empire, but the political fabric was such that
an empire was no longer feasible, a possible exception being the Pratihara
kingdom in limited periods. T h e ability to.create large kingdoms and empires
moved south to the powers o f the peninsula— the kingdoms o f the Deccan and
the Tam il country. In the centuries that followed the G upta period it was in
the kingdoms o f the Châlukyas, Râshtrakütas, Pallavas, and Cholas that
Indian civilization showed its greatest vitality.
CH A PTE R VI
to their effectiveness. The A ryans had the horse-drawn chariot, the Achae-
menians siege engines, Alexander ballislae. T he Central Asian nomads were
equipped with small composite bows, carried by mounted archers, w ho could
hit their m ark while they were in full gallop. Babur made effective use o f a
small park o f field guns. In fact one o f the main reasons for the repeated in
eptitude o f Indian armies in the defence o f the natural frontiers o fln d ia was
their outdated aud ineffective m ilitary technique.
A n other im portant factor in the weak defence o fln d ia was the failure o f her
rulers to recognize the very existence o f the threat from the north-west. Where
this threat was recognized, the defence was more successful. T he three great
empires o f the M auryas, the Guptas, and the Mughals were able to maintain
their frontiers because they were united. Even the Hünas, who invaded India
towards the end o f the period o f the G upta Empire, were expelled in the end,
though the empire disintegrated in the process. T he great M ughals were well
aware o f the potential danger from the north-west and tried to maintain their
hold on K a b u l and K andahar, beyond the natural frontiers o fln d ia , in order
to keep out invaders. O nly when their empire was already disintegrating after
the death o f A urangzeb did the Iranians and Afghans mount their great raids
into M ughal territory. T h e early Turkish sultans managed to hold o ff the
M ongols because, though their henchmen were far from united and not
always loyal to their leaders, they were well aware o f the common danger and
too k w hat steps they could to ward it off.
T h e Hindu kings at the time o f the Turkish invasions were hopelessly
divided. W e have seen that, when Mahmud o f G hazni defeated the Sâhls o f the
north-west and occupied the Panjâb, no Hindu king seems to have been aware
o f the danger to the rest o fln d ia . When, nearly 200 years later, Muhammad
bin Sam threatened a further attack, the main kingdoms o f northern India
were in a state o f constant friction, frequently erupting into warfare, but
w arfare o f the inconclusive type traditional to Hinduism, which never pushed
a victory home and thus inhibited both the building up o f stable empires and
the establishment o f firm alliances. I f Prithvîrâja had some help from his
neighbours to the east, as certain M uslim accounts assert, it was half-hearted
and ineffectual. T h e same factors assisted the establishment o f the power o f
the E ast India C om pany in the eighteenth century, for as soon as the C om
pany began to take a part in Indian politics it learnt to profit from the dissen
sions o f the Indian powers, playing one off' against another by a combination
o f bribes, promises, and threats.
Thus the Turkish conquest o f m ost o f India, like other conquests both
earlier and later, must chiefly be ascribed to the Indian political system and to
the intense conservatism o f the rulers o fln d ia , especially in m ilitary matters.
These factors were cancelled out in the internal warfare o f the subcontinent,
when foreign invasion was not involved, for in any such conflict both sides
were equally affected by them. When an army o f vigorous marauders appeared
on the north-west frontier, though outnumbered, it stood a very good chance
o f overrunning the plains, for the rulers o f India were generally at loggerheads
one with another, and their m ilitary methods were technically outdated in
com parison w ith those o f the attackers.
Medieval Hindu India 57
T h e period from a .d . 550 to 1200 saw the rapid development o f Âryanized
culture in the peninsula. T w o main focuses o f power emerged, one in the
Deccan and the other in the Tam il plain, and their rulers contended constantly
and indecisively for mastery for more than 600 years. T he events o f this region
throw an interesting light on the w orkings o f the Hindu political system. For
instance in the D eccan the Châlukya D ynasty held power from the middle o f
the sixth to the middle o f the eighth century. A sudden revolt by an important
vassal, D antidurga o f the line o f the Râshtrakûtas, brought about the over
throw o f the Châlukyas. T hey were not completely eradicated, however, but
were allowed to continue as the Râshtrakûtas’ vassals. Thus the Châlukyas
persisted for 200 years, until in the tenth century the Râshtrakûtas grew weak.
Then the Châlukyas seized their chance and regained supremacy, only for
their empire to be partitioned am ong three o f their own vassals after a further
200 years.
T h e first great dynasty to contol the Tam il plain was that o f the Pallavas,
whose rulers introduced many features o f northern civilization into the south.
Between the Pallavas and the Châlukyas were several minor kingdom s, usually
tributary to one o f the greater powers, but always ready to becom e indepen
dent whenever they found an opportunity. Am ong these the K adam bas are
worth mentioning because o f their origin. The line was founded in the fourth
century by a young brâhm an, M ayûraéarman, who gave up his studies and
became leader o f a troop o f bandits, and levied protection money from villages
in the hilly western part o f the Pallava kingdom . In tbe end the Pallava'king
recognized M ayûraéarm an as a vassal; he established his capital at Vanavàsï
in M ysore and his descendants were classed as kshatriyas, though they re
membered their brâhman ancestry with pride.
In the ninth century the Pallavas gave way to the Cholas, w ho claimed de
scent from the early Tam il kings o f the same surname who had disappeared
from history over 500 years earlier. T h e Cholas are noteworthy fo r their
patronage o f art and architecture— splendid temples with majestic towers and
fine sculpture, especially in bronze, were produced during their rule. T o some
extent they revived the tradition o f bureaucracy, and developed a more
centralized form o f government than that o f most other Indian kingdoms,
finding a place in the system for village councils, usually chosen by lot, the
records o f whose deliberations are still to be seen engraved on the walls o f
village temples in various parts o f Tamilnâdu.
T h e Cholas are also noteworthy as the one dynasty o f India which, i f only
for a while, adopted a maritime policy, expanding their power by sea. Under
the great C hola emperors Râjarâja I (985-1014) and Ràjendra I (1012-44),
first Ceylon was conquered and then the whole eastern seaboard o f India as
far as the G angâ. Finally, under Ràjendra, a great naval expedition sailed
across the B ay o f Bengal and occupied strategic points in Sum atra, M alaya,
and Burma. This C hola maritime empire, the only certain instance o f Indian
overseas expansion by force o f arms, was not an enduring one. Later Chola
rulers became once more involved in the endemic wars with the Châlukyas
and lost interest in their overseas possessions. W ithin fifty years o f the ex
pedition all the C hola troops had been withdrawn to the mainland. Later the
Cholas weakened, and were replaced as the dominant power in Tam ilnâdu by
58 Medieval Hindu India
the Pândyas, whose capital was the sacred city o f Madurai, in the extreme
south.
T h e whole o f the peninsula was shaken to its foundations by the invasions
o f the troops o f Sultan ‘A la V d - D m K h alji o f D elhi (1296-1316), led by his
general M alik K âfu r. A s a result the D eccan came under Muslim domination
fo r 400 years, but the south remained under Hindu control, after a brief inter
lude when a short-lived Muslim sultanate ruled from M adurai. The hegemony
o f the D ravidian south fell to the Empire o f Vijayanagara, founded in 1336
and surviving until 1565, when its forces were defeated by a coalition o f
D eccan sultans. This Was the last o f the great empires on the old Hindu model,
and by the time o f its fall the Portuguese were already controlling the seas
around India.
The long period whose history we have outlined above is sometimes thought
1 o f as one o f decline, when compared with the stable and urbane days o f the
Guptas. This judgement is true in som e particulars. The literature o f the
period, though it includes many im portant works, has nothing as near per
fection as the main works o f Kâlidâsa. There is much excellent sculpture from
this period, but nothing as fine as the best G upta productions. Y e t in archi
tecture there was an immense advance over G upta times, and, only a century
or two before the Muslims occupied northern India, there arose such splendid
temples as those at Khajurâho, Bhubaneswar, Kânchïpuram , and Thanjavflr,
am ong m any others.
In the religious life o f ìndia, after the G upta period, the greatest vitality
seems to have been found in the peninsula. Here certain south Indian brah
mans developed Hindu philosophy and theology as never before, and, basing
their work on the Upanishads, the Bhagaoad Gita, and the Brahma Sutras, pro
duced commentaries o f great length and subtlety, to defend their own syste
m atic interpretations o f the texts. C h ief o f these was Sankaràchârya, a
K eralan brahman o f the ninth century, w ho has with some justification been
called the St. Thom as Aquinas o f Hinduism. Sankaràchârya was only one o f
many teachers nearly as great as he, such as Râm ânuja (died 1x37) and
M adhva w ho founded sub-sects o f the Vedanta philosophical
school. '
Perhaps even more important was the grow th o f simple popular devotional-
ism (bhakti), which began am ong the Tam ils near the beginning o f this period
with the production o f the beautiful Tam il hymns o f the Nâyanârs and Àlvârs.
Other products o f the same m ovem ent were the Sanskrit Bhâgavata Purâna,
which, composed in the Tam il country, soon spread all over India and was
later translated into thè everyday languages, to diffuse the cult o f Krishna as
the divine Ióver. B efofe the M uslim conquest o f the D eccan this movement
had begun to spread northwards, and left its traces in the earliest im portant
M arathi literature, subh as the Jnâneivart o f Jnâneivar,
M eanwhile Buddhisfn steadily lost ground, though it was still very much
alive in Bengal and Bihàr when the Muslims occupied these regions. Both
Buddhism and Hinduism had becom e affected by w hat is generally known as
Tantricism or Tantrism, emphasizing the worship o f goddesses, especially the
M other Goddess, the Spouse o f Siva, know n by many names. W ith this came
sexual mysticism, and the sacramentalization o f the sexual act, which was
Medieval Hindu India 59
Hinduism
by S. R a d h a k r j s h n a n
Thb eloquent and m oving contribution which follows is the w ork o f one o f
the great minds o f modern India, who has been President o f the Indian Re
public and w ho now (1972) lives in honourable retirement, as one o f the
most venerated o f India’s grand old men. It was written for the original edi
tion o f The Legacy o f India when its author was a professor o f Calcutta
University, and had already made a name for himself as an expositor o f Indian
thought to the W est, a task which he was to continue as Spalding Professor o f
Eastern Religions at the University o f Oxford.
The character o f this chapter is more personal than that o f m ost o f the
other contributions to our volume, but it is no less valuable fo r that. A s the
record o f the faith o f a sensitive, highly intelligent Hindu o f the early twentieth
century, it introduces the reader to those aspects o f India’s ancient religion
which have moulded his life and thougbt*£There are, however, a number o f
aspects o f the subject which are still very important in the life o f India, but are
little touched on by the author, w ho would him self agree that Hinduism has
something for everyone, on all levels o f culture. For this reason we have added
a b rief postscript to the chapter.
THE S P IR IT OF H IN D U ISM
there must be a com m on element that makes every stage and every movement
an expression o f the religion. T h e different phases and stages have proper
content and meaning only in so far as this common element exists. W ith the
perception o f the unity which runs through error and failure up the long
ascent towards the ideal, the whole achievement o f Hinduism falls into co
herent perspective. It is this essential spirit that any account o f Hinduism
would seek to express, the spirit that its institutions imperfectly set forth, the
spirit that we need to develop more adequately and richly before a better age
and civilization can be achieved.
H ISTORICAL OUTLINB
The spirit is not a dead abstraction but a living force. Because it is active
and dynamic the Hindu civilization has endured so long and proved so cap
able o f adaptation to the growing com plexity o f life. The great river o f Hindu
life, usually serene but not without its rapids, reaches back so Far that only a
long view can do justice to its nature. From prehistoric times influences have
been at work m oulding the faith. A s a result o f the excavations in H arappa
and M ohenjo-dàro we have evidence o f the presence in India o f a highly de
veloped culture that ‘ must have had a long antecedent history on the soil o f
India, taking us back to an age that can only be dimly surm ised’ .1 In age and
achievement the Indus valley civilization is com parable to that o f E gypt or
Sumeria. The noteworthy feature o f this civilization is its continuity, not as a
political power but as a cultural influence. T he religion o f the Indus people is
hardly distinguishable, according to Sir John M arshall, from ‘ that aspect o f
Hinduism which is bound up with animism and the cults o f Si va and the M other
G oddess’.2 These latter do not seem to be indigenous to the V ed ic religion.
Though the 3 akti cult was later accepted by the Vedic people, their original
opposition to it is not altogether suppressed. T o the sacrifice o f D aksha, all
the Vedic deities are said to have been invited except Siva, who soon gained
authority as the successor o f the Vedic Rudra. Even so late as the Bhâgavata
Parana the opposition to Siva-worship is present. ‘ Those who worship Siva
and those w ho follow them are the opponents o f holy scriptures and m ay be
ranked with pâshandins. Let the feeble-minded who, with matted locks, ashes,
and bones, have lost their purity, be initiated into the worship o f Siva in which
wine and brewage are regarded as gods.’ 3
It is a matter for conjecture whether the Indus people had any relation to
the Dravidians. N or can we say whether the Dravidians were natives o f the
soil or came from outside. Besides the A ryans and the Dravidians there was
also a flat-nosed, black-skinned people w ho were com m only known as dâsas.
The religion, in the first literary records that have come down to us, is that o f
the Aryans, though it was much influenced by the Indus people, the D ravid
ians, and the aborigines. T h e simple hymns o f the Rig-Veda reveal to us an
1 Sir John Marshall, Mohenjo-Dâro and the Indus Civilization, 1931, V ol. I, p. 106.
1 Ibid. Vol. I, p. viii.
1 BhâgavataPuràna, iv. 2. In the Padma Parana, pâshandins are said to be 'those who wear
skulls, ashes, and bones, the symbols contrary to the Vedas, put on matted locks and the
barks o f trees, even without entering into the third order o f life and engage ip rites which are
not sanctioned by the Vcdas’. Uttara-khanda, Ch. 235.
62 Hinduism
age when Pan was still alive, when the trees in the forest could speak and the
waters o f the river could sing and man could listen and understand. The spells
and the cLarms to be found in part o f the tenth book o f the Rig-Veda and in
m ost o f the Atharva- Veda suggest a type o f religious practice based on fear and
associated with the spirits o f the dark. A religious synthesis o f the different
views and practices on the basis o f m onistic idealism is set forth in the early
Upanishads. Soon after, a com posite culture, springing from a union o f Greek
w ith Persian and Bactrian influences, dominated north-western India. Success
ive descents o f M uslim conquerors from about a .d . io o o affected Hindu life
and thought. The Pars! fugitives who were expelled from Persia by Muslim
invaders found a welcome shelter in India. St. Thom as brought the Christian
faith from Syria to south India and for over a thousand years this remained the
only Christian centre o f influence. In the sixteenth century St. Francis Xavier
introduced Latin Christianity. The modern Christian missionary movement
started over a centuty ago. Tire cultural invasion o f the West has been vigor
ous, thanks to its political superiority and industrial efficiency.
Jainism, Buddhisni, and Sikhism are creations o f the Indian mind and may
be interpreted as réform movements from within the fold o f Hinduism put
forth to meet the special demands o f the various stages o f the Hindu faith.
Zoroastrianism , Islam, and Christianity have been so long in the country that
they have become native to the soil and are deeply influenced by the atm o
sphere o f Hinduism.
India was a thorough ‘ m elting-pot’ long before the term was invented for
Am erica. In spite o f attacks, Hellenic, Muslim, and European am ong others,
Hindu culture has maintained its tradition unbroken to the present day. The
spiritual life o f the Hindus at the present time has not precisely the same pro
portion or orientation as that o f either the Indus people or the V ed ic Aryans
or even the great teachers, Sankara and Ràm ânuja. Its changes in emphasis
reflect individual temperaments, social conditions, and the changing intel
lectual environment, but the same persistent idea reappears in different forms.
Hinduism grows in the proper sense o f the word, not by accretion, but like
an organism, undergoing from time to time transformation as a whole. It
has carried within it much o f its early possessions. It has cast aside a good deal
and often it has found treasures which it has made its own. T h e history o f
Hinduism is chequered by tragic failures and wonderful victories, by oppor
tunities missed and taken. N ew truth has been denied and persecuted occa
sionally. T h e unity of'its body, realized at the cost o f centuries o f effort and
labour, now and then came near being shattered by self-seeking and ignorance.
Y e t the religion itself Is not destroyed. It is alive and vigorous and has with
stood attacks from within and without. It seems to be possessed o f unlimited
powers o f renewal. Its historic vitality, the abounding energy which it reveals,
would alone be evidence o f its spiritual genius.
U N IV E R S A L IT Y
In its great days Hinduism was inspired to carry its idea across the frontiers
o fln d ia and impose it on the civilized world. Its memory has becom e a part o f
the A siatic consciousness, tinging its outlook on life. T oday it is a vital eie-
Hinduism 63
ment in world thought and offers the necessary corrective to the predomin-
qnlly.rationalistic pragmatism o f the W est. It has therefore universal value.
. £ T h e vision o f India, like that o f G reece, is Indian only in the sense that it
was formulated by minds belonging to the Indian soil. T he value o f that vision
:does not reside in any tribal or provincial characteristics, but in those ele
m ents o f universality which appeal to the w hole world. W hat can be re
cognized as peculiarly Indian is not the universal truth which is present in it,
but;the elements o f weakness and prejudice, w hich even some o f the greatest
p fjn d ia n s have in com m on with their weaker brethren,
WE
R.BLÌGION AS E X P B R I E N C B
yet m ay not possess the feelings and attitude associated with religion. Reli
gion is not so much a matter o f theoretical knowledge as o f life and practice.
When K a n t attacked the traditional proofs o f G o d ’s existence, and asserted
at the same time his faith in G o d as a postulate o f m oral consciousness, he
brought out the essentially non-theoretical character o f life in G od. It follows
that the reality o f G od is not based on abstract arguments or scholastic proofs,
but is derived from the specifically religious experience which alone gives
peculiar significance to the word ‘ G od M an becomes aware o f G od through
experience. R ational arguments establish religious faith only when they are
interpreted in the light o f that religious experience. T he arguments do not
reveal G od to us but are helpful in rem oving obstacles to the acceptance by
our minds o f a revelation mediated by that capacity for the apprehension o f
the D ivin e which is a normal feature o f our humanity.'' Those who have de
veloped this centre through which all the threads o f the universe are drawn
are the religious geniuses. T he high vision o f those who have penetrated into
the depths o f being, their sense o f the D ivine in all their exaltation o f feeling
and enrichment o f personality, have been the'sourcc o f all the noblest w ork in
the w orld. From Moses to Isaiah, from Jesus and Paul on to Augustine,
Luther, and W esley, from Socrates and Plato to Plotinus and Philo, from
Zoroaster to Buddha, from Confucius to M ahom et, the men w ho initiated
new currents o f life, the creative personalities, are those w ho have known G od
by acquaintance and not by hearsay.
THE VEDAS
W hat is final is the religious experience itself, though its expressions change
if they are to be relevant to the growing conteht o f knowledge. T h e experience
is what is felt by the individual in his deepest being, w hat is seen by him
(drishli) or heard (sruti) and this is valid fo r all time. T he Veda is seen or
heard, not made by its human authors. It is spiritual discovery, not creation.
T h e w ay to wjsdom is not through intellectual activity. From the beginning,
India believed in the superiority o f intuition or the method o f direct percep
tion o f the super-sensible to intellectual reasoning. T h e V edic rishis were the
first who ever burst into that silent sea o f ultimate being and their utterances
about what they saw and heard there are found registered in the Vedas.
N aturally they attribute the authorship o f the Vedas to a superior spirit.
M odern psychology admits that the higher achievements o f men depend in
the last analysis on processes that are beyond and deeper than the limits o f the
norm al consciousness. Socrates speaks o f the ‘ d aim ôn ’ which a cts'a s the
censor on and speaks through him. Plato regards inspiration as an act o f a
goddess. Ideas are showered on Philo from above, though he is oblivious o f
everything around him. G eorge Eliot tells us that she wrote her best w ork in a
kind o f frenzy almost w ithout know ing w hat she was writing. A ccording to
Em erson, all poetry is first written in the heavens. It is conceived by a self
deeper than appears in normal life. The prophet, when he begins his message
‘ Thus saith the L o rd ’, is giving utterance to his consciousness that the
message is not his own, that it comes from a wider and deeper level o f life and
from a source outside his'lim ited self. Since we cannot compel these excep-
4 See Clement W ebb, Religion and Theism ', 1934, p. 36.
Hinduism 65
tional moments to occur, all inspiration bas something o f revelation in it. In
stead o f considering creative work to be due to processes which take place
unwittingly, as some psychologists imagine, the Hindu thinkers affirm that the
creative deeds, the inspiration o f the poets, the vision o f the artist, and the
genius o f the man o f science are in reality the utterance o f the Eternal through
man. In those rare moments man is in touch with a wider world and is swayed
by an oversoul that is above his own. T h e seers feel that their experiences are
unmediated direct disclosures from the wholly other and regard them as
supernatural, as not discovered by man’s own activity (akartrika, apauru-
slieya). T hey feel that they come to them from God,* though even G od is said
to be not their author but their form ulator. In the last analysis the Vedas are
without any personal author.6 Since they are not due to personal activity they
are not subject to unlimited revision and restatement but possess in a sense
the character o f finality (nityatva).
W hile scientific knowledge soon becomes obsolete, intuitive wisdom has a
permanent value. Inspired poetry and religious scriptures have a certain time
lessness or universality which intellectual works do not share. W hile Aristotle’s
biology is no longer true, the drama o f Euripides is still beautiful. W hile
Vaiseshika atomism is obsolete, K àlid âsa’s êakuntalâ is unsurpassed in its
own line.
There is a com m unity and continuity o f life between man in bis deepest self
and G od. In ethical creativity and religious experience man draws on this
source, or rather the source o f power is expressing itself through him. In
Tennyson's fine figure the sluices are opened and the great ocean o f pow er
flows in. It is the spirit in man that is responding to the spirit in the universe,
the deep calling unto the deep.
i The Vedas are more a record than an interpretation o f religious experience.
While their authority is final, that o f the expression and the interpretations o f
the religious experience is by no means final. T h e latter a iesa id to be sturiti or
the remembered testimonies o f great souls. These interpretations are bound to
change if they are to be relevant to the growing content o f knowledge. Facts
alone stand firm, judgements waver and change. Facts can be expressed in the
dialect o f the age. The relation between the vision and its expression, the fact
and its interpretation, is very close. It is more like the body and the skin than
the body and its clothes. W hen the vision is to be reinterpreted, what is needed
is not a mere verbal change but a réadaptation to new habits o f mind. W e have
evidence to show that the Vedas meant slightly different things to successive
generations o f believers. On the fundamental, metaphysical, and religious
issues the different commentators, Sankara, Ràm ânuja, and M adhva, offer
different interpretations. T o ascribe finality to a spiritual movement is to
bring it to a standstill. T o stand still is to fall back. There is not and there
cannot be any finality in interpretation.
Insight into reality, which is the goal o f the religious quest, is earned by in
tellectual and m oral discipline. Three stages are generally distinguished, a
* Rig-Veda, x. 90.9; Brihadâranyaka Upanishad, ii. 4. 10.
4 P u r u s h â b h â v â t . . . ni s ht hâ, Mlmâmsâ-nyâya-prakSia, 6.
66 Hinduism
unique type o f life o f supreme value. Thought completes itself in life and we
thrill again with the creative experience o f the first days o f the founders o f the
religion.
GOD
I f religion is experience, what is it that we experience? W hat is the nature o f
reality? In our knowledge o f G od, contact with the ultimate reality through
religious experience plays the'same part which contact with nature through
sense perception plays in our knowledge o f nature. In both we have a sense o f
the other, the trans-subjective, which controls our apprehension. It- is so
utterly given to us and not made by us. W e build the concept o f reality from
the data o f religious experience, even as we build the order o f nature from the
immediate data o f sense.
In the long and diversified history o f man's quest for reality represented by
Hinduism, the object which haunts the human soul as a presence at once all
embracing and infinite is envisaged in many different ways. T he Hindus are
said to adopt polytheism, monotheism, and pantheism as well as b elief in
demons, heroes, and ancestors. It is easy to find texts in support o f'ea ch o f
these views. The cults o f Siva and Sakti may have come down from the Indus
people. W orship o f trees, animals and rivers, and other cults associated with
fertility ritual, m ay have had the same origin, while the d ark powers o f the
underworld, who are dreaded and propitiated, m ay be due to aboriginal
sources. T h e V ed ic A ryans contributed the higher gods com parable to the
Olympians o f the Greeks, like the Sky and the Earth, the Sun and the Fire.
The Hindu religion deals with these different lines o f thought and fuses them
into a whole by means o f its philosophical synthesis. A religion is judged by
what it tends towards. Those who note the facts and miss the truth are unfair
to the Hindu attempt.
T h e reality we experience cannot be fully expressed in terms o f logic and
language. It defies all description. The seer is as certain o f the objective reality
he apprehends as he is o f the inadequacy o f thought to express it. A G o d com
prehended ismo G od , but an artificial construction o f our minds. Individuality,
whether human er divfne,. can only be accepted as given fact and not de
scribed. It is not wholly transparent to logic. It is inexhaustible by analysis."
Its inexhaustibility is the p ro o f o f objectivity. H ow ever far we m ay carry our
logical analysis, the given object in all its uniqueness is there, constituting a
limit to our analysis. O ur thinking is controlled by something beyond itself
which is perception in physical science and the intuition o f G o d in the science
o f religion. The eternal being o f G od cannot be described by categories. A n
attitude o f reticence is adopted regarding the question o f the nature o f the
Supreme. Those who know it tell it not; those whd tell it know it not. T he
Kena Upanishadsays: ‘ The eye does not go thither, nor speech nor mind. W e
do not know , we do not understand how one can teach it. It is different from
the known, it is also above the unknow n.’ 10 Sankard quotes a V edic passage
where the teacher, tells the pupil the secret o f the self by keeping silent abou t it.
‘ Verily, I tell you, but you understand not, the self is silence.’ ” T h e deeper
* C f. Augustine’s statement that if one knows the object o f one’s belief, it cannot be G od
one knows. 10 i. 2-4. " Bhâshya on Brahma SSlra, iii. 2. 17.
68 Hinduism
is the result, not the cause o f religious life. Hinduism deepens the life o f
spirit am ong the adherents w ho belong to it, without affecting its form. A ll
the gods included in the Hindu pantheon stand for some aspect o f the
Supreme. Brahm a, Vishnu, and éiva bring out the creative will, saving love
and fearful judgem ent o f the Supreme. Each o f them to its worshippers be
comes a name o f the Supreme G od . T h e Harivamsa, for example, tells us that
Vishnu is the Supreme G od, taught in the whole range o f the Scriptures, the
Vedas, the Râmâyaua, the Purdnas, and the epics. The same description is
given o f Siva, who has Rudra for his Vedic counterpart.” He becomes the
highest G od . Sakti, the M other Goddess, in her different forms represents the
dynam ic side o f Godhead. W hatever form o f worship is taken up by the
Hindu faith it is exalted into the highest.
T h e m ultiplicity o f divinities is traceable historically to the acceptance o f
pre-existing faiths in a great religious synthesis where the different forms are
interpreted as modes, emanations, or aspects o f the one Supreme. In the act o f
worship, however, every deity is given the same metaphysical and moral per
fections. The labels on the bottles may vary, but the contents are exactly the
same. T hat is why, from the Rig-Veda onwards, Hindu thought has been
characterized by a distinctive hospitality. A s the Bhagavad Gita has it: ‘ H ow
soever men approach me, so do I welcome them, for the path men take from
every side is mine.’ Hinduism did not shrink from the acceptance o f every
aspect o f G od conceived by the mind o f man, and, as we shall see, o f every
form o f devotion devised by his heart. F or what counts is the attitude o f sin
cerity and devotion and not the conception, which is more or less intellectual.
K ierkegaard says: ‘ I f o f two men one prays to the true G od without sincerity
o f heart, and the other prays to an idol with all the passion o f an infinite
yearning, it is the first w ho really prays to an idol, while the second really
prays to G o d .’ 11 D om inated by such an ideal, Hinduism did not believe in
either spiritual mass-production or a standardized religion for all.
The great wrong, that which w e can call the sin o f idolatry, is to acquiesce
in anything less than the highest open to us. Religion is not so much faith in
the highest as faith in the highest one can reach. A t whatever level our under
standing may be, we must strive to transcend it. W e must perpetually strive to
lift up our eyes to the highest conception o f G od possible for us and our
generation. The greatest gift o f life is the dream o f a higher life. T o continue
to grow is the m ark o f a religious soul. Hinduism is bound not by a creed but
by a quest, not by a common belief but by a common search for truth. Every
one is a Hindu who strives for truth by study and reflection, by purity o f life
and conduct, by devotion and consecration to high ideals, who believes that
religion rests not on authority but on experience.
PERFECTION
W hatever view o f God the Hindu may adopt, he believes that the D ivine is
in man. E very human being, irrespective o f caste or colour, can attain to the
knowledge o f this truth and make his whole life an expression o f it. The
** Alharvadiras Up. v. 3.
*' Quoted in The Tragic Sense o f Life by Unamuno (3rd imp.), p. 178.
Hinduism 73
Divinity in us is to be realized in mind and spirit and made a power in life.
The intellectual apprehension must becom e embqdied in a regenerated being.
The Divine must subdue us to its purpose, subject the rebellious flesh to a new
rhythm, and use the body to give voice to its own speech. Life eternal or
liberation or the kingdom o f heaven is nothing more than making the ego
with all its thought and desires get back to its source in spirit. T h e self still
exists, but it is no more the individual self but a radiant divine self, deeper
than thé individual being, a self which embraces all creation in a profound
sympathy. The Upanishadsays: ‘ T he liberated soul enters into the A ll.’ 12 T he
heart is released from its burden o f care. The sorrows and errors o f the past,
the anxiety o f unsatisfied desire, and the sullenness o f resentment are no more.
It is the destiny o f man where there is a perfect flowering o f the human being.
T o embody this eternal greatness in temporal fact is the aim o f the world. T he
peace o f perfection, the jo y o f heaven, is realizable cm earth. Perfection is open
to all. W e are all members o f the heavenly household, o f the fam ily o f G od .
However low w e may fall, we are not lost. There is no such thing as spiritual
death. A s Jong as there is a spark o f spiritual life, we have hope. Even when
we are on the brink o f the abyss, the everlasting arms will sustain us, for there
is nothing, not even an atom o f reality, where G od does not abide, M en o f
spiritual insight take upon themselves the cross o f mankind. They crown
themselves with thorns in order that others m ay be crowned with life im
mortal. They go about the world as vagrants despising the riches o f the world
to induce us to believe in the riches o f their world. W hen they gaze into men’s
eyes, whatever their condition o f life, they see something more than man.
They see our faces not merely by the ordinary light o f the world but by the
transfiguring light o f our divine possibilities. T hey thèrefore share our joys
arid sorrows.
YOGA
no other, there is fullness.’ 2* A life that is divided becomes a life that is unified.
Y o g a is the pathway to this rebirth or realization o f the divine in us.
There are not only many mansions in G o d ’s house but many roads to the
heavenly city. They are roughly distinguished into three-^ÿwï/in, bhakti, and
karma. G od is wisdom, holiness, and love. He is the answer for the intel
lectual demands for unity and coherence, the source and sustainer o f values,
and the object o f worship and prayer. Religion is m orality, doctrine as well as
a feeling o f dependence. It includes the development o f reason, conscience,
and emotion. Knowledge, love, and action, clear thinking, ardent feeling,
and conscientious life, all lead us to G od and are necessary for spiritual
growth. À relatively greater absorption in one or the other depends on the
point we have reached in our inner development. When the goal is reached
there is an advance in the whole being o f man. Religion then ceases to be a
rite or a refuge and becomes the attainment o f reality.
JNÂNA
When jnâna is said to lead to mokslta or liberation, it is not intellectual
knowledge that is meant but spiritual wisdom. It is that which enables'us .to
know that the spirit is the knower and not the known. By philosophical ana
lysis (iallva-viclwra) we realize that there is in us a principle o f awareness by
which we perceive all things, though it is itself not perceived as an object in the
ordinary way. N o t to know that by which we know is to cast away a treasure
that is ours. Y o g a in the sense o f the stilling o f outward activities and em o
tions and concentration on pure consciousness is adopted to help the process
o f development. W hen we attain this jnâna there is a feeling o f exaltation and
ecstasy and a burning rage to suffer for mankind.
BH AKTI
W hile Hinduism is one o f the most metaphysical o f religions, it is also one
that can be felt and lived by the poor and the ignorant. By the pursuit o f
bhakti or devotion we reach the same goal that is'attained by jnâna. T h e de
votees require a concrete support to their worship and so believe in a personal
G od. Bhakti is not the love which expects to be reciprocated. Such a love is a
human affection and no more. Prayer becomes meditation, the worshipful
loyalty o f will which identifies itself with the good o f the world. I f yoù are a
true devotee o f G od you become a know ing and a virtuous soul as well. The
■bhakta knows how to identify him self completely with the object o f devotion,
by a process o f self-surrender.
M y self I’ve rendered up to thee;
I’ve cast it from me utterly.
Now here before thee, Lord, I stand,
Attentive to thy least command.
The self within me now is dead,
And thou enthroned in its stead.
Yea, this, I, Tuka, testify,
No longer now is ‘m e’ or ‘ m y’.1J
11 Chhàndogya Up. vii. 24. " Nicol Macnicol, Psatms o f AtarMhS Sainis, p. 79.
Hinduism 75
The distinction between G od and worshipper is only relative. L ove and
knowledge-have one and the same end. T hey can only be conceived as per
fected when there is an identity between lover and beloved, knower and
known.
KARMA
T h e world is not only spiritual but also moral. Life is an education.. In the
m oral sphere no less than the physical, whatsoever a man soweth that shall he
also reap. Every act produces its natural result in future character. T h e result
o f the act is not something external to it imposed from without on the actor by
an external jud ge but is in very truth a part o f tbe act itself. W e cannot confuse
belief in karma with an easy-going fatalism . It is the very opposite o f fatalism.
It deletes chance, for it says that even the smallest happening has its cause in
the past and its result in the future. It does not accept the theory o f predeter
m ination or the idea o f an overruling providence. I f we find ourselves helpless
and unhappy we are not condemned to it by a deity outside o f ourselves. The
Garuda Parana says: ‘ N o one gives jo y or sorrow. That others give us these is
an erroneous conception. Our own deeds bring to us their fruits. B ody o f mine,
repay by suffering.’ G od does not bestow his favours capriciously. T h e law o f
m orality is fundamental to the whole cosmic drama. Salvation is not a gift o f
capricious gods but is to be w on by earnest seeking and self-discipline. The law
■
o f karma holds that man can control his future by creating in the present what
will produce the desired effect. Man is the sole and absolute master o f his fate.
24 Süntiparvo, cliv. 6. 22 Ibid. 34. 2®Sec Bhagavad Gild, vi. 16-1 S.
19 Ibid. v. 4-5.
Hinduism 77
Bui so iong as he is a victim o f his desires and allows his activities to be
governed by automatic attractions and repulsions he is not exercising his free
dom. I f chains fetter us, they are o f our own forging and we ourselves m ay
rend them asunder. G od works by persuasion rather than by force. R ight and
w rong are not the same thing and the choice we make is a real one.
A bout future life there are three alternatives possible: (i) T h e soul dies with
the body, since it is nothing more than a function o f physical life. Hindu re
ligion does not accept this mechanical view, (ii) T h e soul goes either to heaven
and eternal bliss, or to hell and eternal torment, aud remains there. F o r the
Hindu, the doctrine that the soul has only one life, a few brief years, in the
course o f which it determines for itself an eternal heaven or an eternal hell,
seems unreasonable and unethical, (iii) The soul may not be fit for eternal
life and yet m ay not deserve eternal torment, and so goes from life to life. T h is .
life is not the end o f everything. W e shall be provided with other chances. T he
soul does not begin with the body nor does it end with it. It pursue^ its long.'
pilgrimage through dying bodies and decaying worlds. The great purpose o f
redemption is carried over without break from one life to another. AU systems
o f Hindu thought accept the idea o f the continuous existence o f the individual
human being as axiomatic. Our mental and emotional make-up is reborn with
us in the next birth, form ing what is called character. Our strivings and en
deavours give us the start. W e need not fear that the spiritual gains o f a long
and strenuous life go for nothing. This continuity will go on until all souls
attain their destiny o f freedom, which is the goal o f human evolution. I f there
j s not a shred o f empirical evidence for it, the same is true o f other theories o f
future life also.
CONCLUSION
From the beginnings o f Hindu history the culture has been formed by new
‘ forces which it had to accept and overcom e, in the light o f its-own solid and
:•enduring ideas. In every stage there is an attempt to reach a harmony. Only the
.harmony is a dynamic one. When this dynam ic harm ony or organic rhythm o f
. life is missing it means that the religion stands in need o f reform. W e are now
in a period o f social upheaval and religious unsettlement the world over, in
•one o f those great incalculable moments in which history takes its m ajor
.turns. The traditional forms are unable to express the growing sense o f the
divine,.the more sensitive insight into the right w ay o f life. It is wrong to con
fuse the technique o f a religion with its central principles. W e must reform the
technique so as to make it embody the fertile seeds o f truth. In m y travels both
in India and abroad I have learnt that there are thousands o f men and women
today who are hungry to hear the good news o f the birth o f a new order, eager
:to do and dare, ready to make sacrifices that a new society m ay be born, men
and women w ho dimly understand that the principles o f a true religion, o f a
ju st social order, o f a great movement o f generosity in human relations,
domestic and industrial, economic and political, national and international,
are to be found in the basic principles o f the Hindu religion. Their presence in
•growing numbers is the pledge for the victory o f the powers o f light, life, and
love over those o f darkness, death, and discord.
78 Hinduism
PO S T SC R IP T DY THE EDITOR
The most important religious heritage o f India from her ancient past is no
doubt the doctrine o f transmigration (samsara) which is characteristic o f all
Indian religions and sharply distinguishes them from those with a Semitic
ancestry, such as Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. A few ambiguous and in
conclusive references in Vedic literature suggest that vague ideas o f metem
psychosis were known even am ong the early Aryans, but thoughts o f the after
life seem then to have been mainly centred on a heaven whither the souls o f
the righteous went on death, to feast for ever with their ancestors. A m ong the
first fruits o f the pessimism o f the later Vedic period was the gnawing doubt
whether even the soul o f the dead might not be liable to further death. Thus
the idea emerged that Death would hound the soul from world to world (ioke-
loka enam mrityur vindet, Éat. Brh. xiii. 3. 5). T he quest for permanence,
finality, and complete psychological security is very evident throughout the
later Vedic literature, where the Vedic heaven begins to seem inadequate and
limited, in the light o f the contemporary dissatisfaction.
A definite doctrine o f transmigration appears for the first time in the
Brihadàranyaka Upanishad (vi. 2, repeated with some amplification in
Chhândogya Up. v. 3-10). The teaching here enunciated, which has certain
primitive features such as do not occur in the developed doctrine o f samsara,
is ascribed to the kshatriya, Jaivali Pravâhana, a chief o f the tribe o f Panchàlas,
who taught it to the brahman Àruni Gautama, also known as Uddâlaka
A runi, apparently one o f the most vigorous thinkers o f the period (perhaps
c. 700 n.c.). Another passage in the Brihadàranyaka (iii. 2) tells how the great’
sage Yâjnavalkya secretly taught to a questioner as a new and secret theory
the doctrine o f karma, that the good and evil deeds o f a man autom atically in
fluence his state in future lives.
T h e first o f these passages suggests that the doctrine originally appeared in
non-bràhmanic circles. The second indicates that it circulated secretly for
some time before it became public knowledge. From the later Katha Upanishad
(i. 20-9) it appears that there; was widespread doubt at one time about
whether the personality survivfedat all after death, and the doctrine o f trans
migration is again here put forward as a new one, revealed by the god o f death
to the boy Nachiketas only after much importuning. In the latest o f the prin
cipal Upanishads, however, it seems to have become widely accepted, while in
the Buddhist tradition transmigration is axiomatic. There is no discussion on
whether or not the. personality transmigrates, but only on the mechanics by
which it does so. '
The evidence for the origin o f this doctrine is very faint. It may have been
borrowed from nòn-bràhman and originally non-Aryan elements in the
G anga valley, and have gained currency only against considerable opposition
from conservative elements among the priesthood. T he names o f historical
sages— Yâjnavalkya and U ddâlaka Aruni Gautama— are connected with it in
the traditions. H ow this new and secret doctrine spread in a comparatively
short period o f time to become universally accepted is also quite unknown.
W e can only suggest that it was disseminated by wandering ascetics, outside
the fraternities o f sacrificial priests.
Hinduism 79
Once it was universally adopted, the idea o f samsara, the unending, or
almost unending, passage from death to rebirth and redeath, conditioned the
attitudes o f nearly all Indians and encouraged certain tendencies in the social
life o f India, The prospect o f endless rebirth in a vale o f tears, even when
punctuated by long periods o f residence in the heavens, was extremely dis
tasteful to many o f the more sensitive people o f the times, as it still is, and the
quest for psychological security in one changeless entity where there would no
longer be fear o f death and rebirth was redoubled. T h e proliferating religious
thought o f the Upanishads, Buddhism, Jainism, and other less-known hetero
dox movements owes much o f its existence to the growth o f this doctrine,
which appears to have become universal by the time o f the Buddha.
Transm igration must also have encouraged the doctrine o f ahimsâ (non
injury), which was specially supported by Buddhism and Jainism in their cam
paign against animal sacrifice, for this doctrine linked all living things to
gether in a single complex system— gods, demigods, human beings, demons,
ghosts, souls in torment, warm-blooded animals, even hum ble insects and
worms, all possessed souls essentially the same. T he man w ho tried to infringe
the rights o f brahmans to whom land had been granted by the king was
threatened in the title-deed with rebirth for eighty thousand years as a worm
in dung.30 On such premisses it is understandable that the w anton killing o f
animals should be looked on as little better than murder, and meat-eating as
little better than cannibalism, for the ant which a man carelessly treads on as
he walks down the road m ay contain the soul o f his grandfather.
The great majority o f Indians still believe in this doctrine, and the con-
coraitant doctrine o f karma, that man is reborn in happy or unhappy condi
tions according to his works, and these doctrines, in their Buddhist form ,
have affected more than h a lf o f A sia. T hey provide a potent sanction against
evil-doing, or at least against a man’s infringing the ethical norms o f his
society, for this leads to inevitable suffering, while righteous conduct brings
happiness to the next life.
M oreover the afflicted can learn to accept suffering with the thought that it
is not sent at the whim o f fate or chance, and is not the visitation o f a capri
cious god, but is the just recompense fo r one’ s own evil deeds in past lives.
This doctrine is not fatalism, and does not imply that the sufferer should not
try to better his lot— rigid determinism, o f the type propagated by the hetero
dox sect o f the  jlvikas, is strongly attacked in many classical Indian texts—
but it makes suffering o f all kinds intelligible, and gives hope to the sufferer
who bears affliction patiently. Thus, as a source o f consolation, it has done
much to mould the Indian character and to shape the Indian way o f life.
A further potent factor in the m oulding o f the Indian mind, a relic from the
same axial period that produced the doctrine o f transmigration, is the concept
o f endless cyclic time in a cosmos so immense that the mind boggles at con
ceiving its size. The simple and com paratively smdll universe o f Ptolem y,
which provided the traditional world-view o f later Judaism, Christianity, and
30This threat, occurring in many copper-plate grants, gives the lie to those neo-Hindu
apologists who declare that it is impossible for the soul inhabiting human beings to fall to
the state o f an animal. M odem Hindus and their supporters rriây believe this, but it has no
basis in any classical Hindu source.
go Hinduism
Islam, is intelligible and hom ely by com parison; and the traditional Semitic
and Christian doctrine o f linear time— commencing at a period some
4,000 years d.C. and likely to come to an end and give w a y to eternity in the
com paratively near future— was equally intelligible, giving an urgency to
man’ s life which might not be felt in a society which believed that time was
infinite, with an infinite number o f opportunities for the individual to rise or
fall in the scale o f being. The Hindu universe is closer to that o f modern
science than the Ptolem aic one, and fo r this reason am ong others Hindus,
even orthodox ones o f the old school, have little difficulty in accepting scienti
fic theories on the nature o f the cosmos or or man.
The forbidding universe o f science differs from that o f the Hindus in one
particular, however. The Hindu world, in all its immense length and breadth,
is com pletely and fully underlain by the Divine. There is no corner o f the cos
mos where G od , or the impersonal Brahman for the monistic Vedântin, is not.
Facets o f the personality o f the one Lord behind the many appear.in all as
pects o f life on earth, and the immense empty spaces o f the universe are full
o f deities, all aspects or partial manifestations o f the One.
I f the intellectual Hindu prefers to think o f the One spirit as impersonal and
to equate that One with the Atman, the innermost kernel o f his own being, the
ordinary Indian o f all times has thought o f the One as personal— a High G od
w ho created for him self all the lesser gods and the whole cosmos. Com plicated
théogonies evolved in the period follow ing the composition o f the Vedic
literature, and continued to develop throughout the pre-Muslim period and
even after. N ew gods appeared and old gods faded away and almost vanished,
in response to the needs o f the times. T hey formed two broad groups, crystal
lizing round the two High G ods, Vishnu and Siva respectively ; and the fantasy
and inventiveness o f tbe whole folk, not merely o f the learned brahmans, ex
pressed itself in the richest collection o f m ythology and legend in the world—
ranging in quality from the sublime to the grotesque and occasionally even to
the repulsive.
T h e universe for the simple Hindu, therefore, despite its vastness, is not
cold and impersonal, and, though it is subject to rigid laws, tbese laws fiD d
room for the soul o f man. T h e world- is the expression o f ultimate divinity; it
is eternally informed by G od , w ho can be met face to face in all things, but
especially in the image in the temple or fam ily shrine, for divine images under
go consecration ceremonies at which they are converted into channels o f god
head, means whereby the god they represent can reveal him self to his w or
shippers. G od, infinite and omnipresent, nevertheless, in his condescension,
projects him self in the form o f an image so that his simpler worshippers may
feel nearer to him.
F o r the Vaishnavites, the worshippers o f Vishnu, the god has in the past
taken material form, in order to save the world from impending disaster. His
incarnations (auatâras), especially those as Ram a and Krishna, have given the
H indus their most exuberant and vital m ythology, legend, and folklore.
R am a and his faithful wife Sitâ combine the ideals o f heroism, long-suffering,
righteousness, loyalty, and justice in a story so full o f exciting incident that it
has becom e part o f the tradition not only o f India, but also o f m ost o f South
East A sia. And R âm a’s henchman, the gigantic m onkey Hanumân, the arche-
Hinduism 8r
type o f the loyal helper, striding out with his mighty club, is still am ong the
most popular o f the lesser gods o f Hinduism. Hp figures as the divinity o f
countless miuor shrines throughout the length and breadth o f India, and is
the personification o f the strong arm o f the Lord, ever ready to help the
righteous in the hour o f need.
Krishna, probably even more popular than Ram a, is a divinity o f a rare
completeness and catholicity, meeting almost every human need. A s the divine
child he satisfies the warm maternal drives o f Indian wom anhood. A s the
divine lover, he provides romantic wish-fulfilment in a society still tightly
controlled by ancient norms o f behaviour which give little scope for freedom
o f expression in sexual relations. A s charioteer o f the hero Arjuna on the
battlefield o f Kurukshetra, he is the helper o f all those w ho turn to him,
even saving the sinner from evil rebirths, if he has sufficient faith in the
Lord.
âiva, the divine dancer and the divine ascetic, has a less vivid body o f
mythology and legend associated with him. He dwells in the heights o f M t.
Kailâsa with his beautiful wife Pàrvatï, his bull Nandi, and his two sons, the
elephant-headed Ganesa and the six-headed Kârttikeya. Despite its superficial
forbiddingness, and its bizarre elements, this group o f divinities forms a sort
o f paradigm o f family life. Often worshipped in the litigant, a much-formalized
phallic symbol, Siva represents the eternal power through which the universe
evolves. A s the divine dancer, subject o f some o f the most wonderful bronze
sculpture in the world, tSiva dances new steps in never-ending variety until at
length, in a very fierce and wild dance ((andava), he will dance the universe out
o f existence, later to create a new one by yet another dance.
Stories and legends like these are perhaps almost as im portant as the
austere monism o f the intellectual Adoaita o f Professor Radhakrishnan. It is
they that have provided the raw material for most o f India’s early art and
literature, and they have given courage and consolation in face o f adversity to
countless millions through the centuries. M oreover they have provided India
with her main source o f entertainment.
Hinduism has its dark side. Psychopathic self-torture has long been part o f
it. Evil customs such as widow-burning, animal (and sometimes even human)
sacrifice, female infanticide, ritual suicide, religious prostitution, and many
others like them have in the past sometimes been practised in the name o f the
eternal Aryan dharma. But let it not be thought that Hinduism is morbid,
gloomy, or forbidding. It is fundamentally a cheerful religion. In its temple
courts children play unforbidden; at its temple gates the beggar finds his most
profitable place o f business. And, all the larger temples are places o f pilgrim age
on holy days, centres o f jolly religious fairs, to which peasants come, from
many miles around, not generally with feelings o f guilt, fear, and sin, though
awe is certainly present, but with the intention o f combining religious business
with pleasure, just as did the pilgrims o f Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. Here
they are refreshed after hard weeks o f labour in the fields, the burden o f
material care left behind in their villages. The dust and weariness o f the road
are washed away in the ritual bath in the sacred river or tank beside the
temple. F or a while they visit the shrine and pay their respects to the god who,
like a mighty potentate, sits within it. A s a sym bol o f his grace towards them
82 Hinduism
they receive from an officiant the prasâda, in the form o f holy water, sandal
wood ash, or red pigment, which they rub on their foreheads. Then, freed
from earthly care, they enjoy their holiday among their fellows, secure in the
knowledge o f G o d ’s love, as they understand it.
W e do not intend to disparage the Hinduism o f the intellectual and the
mystic, the Hinduism of the kind expounded by Professor Radhakrishnan,
But let us remember the other Hinduism, the Hinduism o f the artist and poet,
with its rich m ythology and legend, the Hinduism o f the simple man, with its
faith, its ritual, its temples, and its sacred images. B oth are part o f India’s
heritage, and it is impossible to pronounce objectively on their relative merits
or im portance; but there is little doubt which has the more strongly affected
the m ajority o f the inhabitants o f the subcontinent fo r more than 2,000 years.
CH APTER Vili
Buddhism
by B h i k s h u S a n g h a r a k s h i t a
THE BUDDHA
F rom the traditional point o f view Buddhism begins with the believer going
for refuge to-the Three Jewels (iriraina), the Buddha, the D octrine (Dharma)
and the Com m unity o f m onks (Sangha). A s the first o f these, the Buddha him
self, although there is no longer any doubt about his historical existence, the
exact dates o f his birth and Parinirvâna (his physical death) are still the sub
ject o f controversy. In all probability those given b y the Ceylon chronicles, the
Dipavamsa and the Mahàvamsa (excluding its continuation the Culavamsa,
the dates o f which are sixty years out), equivalent to 563-483 B.C., are not too
far wrong. -•
The events o f his life are too well known to be recounted in detail. Born at
LumbinT, in the territory o f the f>akya republic, o f wealthy patrician stock, he
went forth ‘ from home into the homeless life’ at the age o f twenty-nine,
attained Supreme Enlightenment at Bodh G a y à at the age o f thirty-five,
and passed aw ay at Kuéinagara at the age o f eighty. D uring his lifetime his
teaching spread throughout the kingdoms o f M agadha and K osala (corre
sponding to the modern south Bihar and eastern U ttar Pradesh), as well as in
the circumjacent principalities and republics. His disciples were recruited from
all classes o f society, and included both men and women. Besides instructing
an extensive circle o f lay adherents, he trained a smaller, more select band o f
monks and'nuns w ho constituted the Sangha proper and upon whom , after
the Parinirvâna, the responsibility for carrying on his m ission m ainly de
volved.
His personality, as it emergés from the ancient records, was a unique com
bination o f dignity and affability, wisdom and kindliness. Together w ith a
majesty that awed and daunted kings he appears to have possessed a tender
ness that could stoop to com fort the bereaved and console the afflicted. His
serenity was unshakable, his self-confidence unfailing. Ever m indful and self
possessed, he faced opposition and hostility, even personal danger, with the
calm and com passionate smile that has lingered down the ages. In debate he
was urbane and courteous, though not without a vein o f irony, and alm ost
invariably succeeded in winning over his opponent. Such was his success in
this direction, that he was accused o f enticing people by means o f spells.
In addition to the ‘ historical fa cts’ o f the Buddha's career, notice must be
taken o f the myths and legends from which, in the traditional biographies,
these facts are inseparable. When Buddhism first came within the purview o f
Western learning it was generally assumed that myth and legend were synony
mous with fiction and that, except as illustrations o f primitive mentality, they
were valueless. Since then we have begun to kn ow better. Some fncidents in
84 Buddhism
Th e word D harm a probably has more meanings than any other term in the
entire vocabulary o f Buddhism. A s the second o f the three Refuges it has
been variously translated as L aw , Truth, Doctrine, G ospel, Teaching, N orm ,
and T ru e Idea, all o f which express some aspect o f its total significance. T o the
W est the D harm a is known as Buddhism, and the question has often been
asked whether it is a religion or a philosophy. T he answer is that so long as
religion is thought o f in exclusively theistic terms and philosophy remains
divorced from any kind o f ethical and spiritual discipline, Buddhism is neither.
The general characteristics o f the D harm a are summarized in an ancient
stereotype formula which occurs repeatedly in the sütras and which is still
widely used for liturgical purposes. The Dharm a is well taught; it belongs to
the L ord, not to any other teacher; its results, when it is put into practice, are
visible in this very life; it is timeless; it invites the inquirer to come and see
personally w hat it is like; it is progressive, leading from lower to higher states
o f existence, and it is to be understood by the wise each one fo r him self.1
l ‘Svâkkhâto bhsgavatà dhammo sandittbiko akâtiko ehipassiko opaoayiko paccattam
veditabbbo vinnühi.’ '
Buddhism 85
.The D harm a consists o f various doctrines or teachings. These represent
neither speculative opinions nor generalizations from a limited range o f
.spiritual experience, but are, for the Buddhist, conceptual form ulations o f the
nature o f existence as seen by a fully enlightened Being who, out o f com pas
sion, makes known to hum anity the truth that he has discovered. It is in this
sense that Buddhism m ay be termed a revelation. According to the m ost
ancient canonical accounts o f a crucial episode, the truth, law, or principle
which the Buddha perceived at the time o f his Enlightenment— in the percep
tion o f which, indeed, that Enlightenment consisted— and which, on account
o f its abstruseness, he was at first reluctant to disclose to a passion-ridden
generation, was that o f the ‘ conditionally co-producedness’ (paticca-samup-
panna) o f things. Conditioned Co-production is, therefore, the basic Buddhist
doctrine, recognized and taught as such first by the Buddha and his immediate
disciples and thereafter throughout the whole course o f Buddhist history.
Questioned by 3 àriputra, then a non-Buddhist wanderer, only a few months
after the Enlightenment, about his M aster’s teaching, the A rhant A svajit re
plies in a resounding verse that has echoed down the centuries as the credo o f
Buddhism: ‘ The Tathâgata has explained the origin o f those things which
proceed from a cause. Their cessation too he has explained. This is the
doctrine o f the great Sram ana.’ 1 Elsewhere the Buddha clearly equates
Conditioned Co-production with the Dharm a and both with himself, saying:
‘ He who sees Conditioned Co-production sees the D harm a; he who sees the
Dharm a sees the Buddha.’ 1
A s interpreted by the gifted early Buddhist nun Dham madinnâ, whose
views were fully endorsed by the Buddha with the remark that he had nothing
further to add to them, the doctrine o f Conditioned Co-production represents
an all-inclusive reality that admits o f two different trends o f things in the whole
ofexistence. In one of them the reaction lakes place in a cyclical order between
two opposites, such as pleasure and pain, virtue and vice, good and evil. In
the other the reaction takes place in a progressive order.between two counter
parts or complements, or between two things o f the same genus, the succeed
ing factor augmenting the effect o f .the preceding one. The Samsara or Round
o f Conditioned Existence represents the first trend. Herein, as depicted by the
‘ Wheel o f L ife ’, sentient beings under the influence o f craving, hatred, and
. bewilderment revolve as gods, men, demons (asuras), animals, ghosts {prêtas'),
and denizens o f hell in accordance with the law o f karma, and experience
pleasure and pain.
The process is ’set forth Briefly in the first and second o f the F ou r A ryan
Truths, the Truth o f Suffering and the Truth o f the Origin o f Suffering, and at
length in the full list o f twelve nidânas or links, which is often, though
wrongly, regarded as exhausting the entire content o f Conditioned C o
production. Conditioned by spiritual ignorance (avidyS) arise the karm a-
formations (samskâra); conditioned by the karma-formations arises con
sciousness (vi/nana); conditioned by consciousness arises name-and-form
THE SA N G H A
;>:The last o f the three Refuges is the Sangha. In its prim ary sense this means
the 'Ârya-Sangha, or Assem bly o f the Elect, consisting o f all those w ho have
succeeded in traversing at least that stage o f the Path whence retrogression
into the Round for more than seven karm a-resultant births is impossible.
Such are the Stream-Entrants, the Once-Returners, the N on-Returners, the
irritants, and the Bodhisattvas.
j^Even as the Buddha is sym bolized by the sacred icon and the D harm a by the
handwritten or printed volumes o f the Scriptures, so the À ry a Sangha is re
presented, for practical purposes, by the Bhiksh.u-Sangha or Order o f M onks.
This great institution, w hich with the possible exception o f its Jain counter
part is the oldest surviving religious order in the world, cam e into existence
within a few months o f the Buddha's Enlightenment. It consisted— and
ideally still consists— o f those o f the Buddha’s followers w ho, having re
nounced the household life, devote the whole o f their time and all their
energies.to the realization o f N irvana. L ike the D harm a, the Sangha passed
through various stages o f development. A t first, during the early lifetime o f
the Founder, the Sâkyaputra sramanas, as they were called, remained ou t
wardly indistinguishable from the other religious fraternities o f the time.
W hat in fact set them apart was the special D harm a they professed. They, too,
were o f eleemosynary and. eremitical habit, assembled twice a m onth on the
days o f the full moon and new m oon, were o f fixed residence during the
rains, and so on. The second period o f developm ent m ay have started before
the Parinirvâna. It saw the com pilation o f a Rule o f 150 articles known as the
Pratimoksha, the recitation o f whichreplaced the original chanting o f D harm a-
stanzas at the fortnightly assemblies. Finally, the Sangha becam e coenobitical,
whereupon the primitive undivided ‘Bhikshu-Sangha o f the F ou r Q uarters’
split up into a number o f virtually autonom ous local communities, and the
Pratimoksha had to be supplemented b y the Skandhakas or com plete insti
tutes o f coenobitical monasticism. A ll these developments occurred within the
space o f about tw o centuries. Pratim oksha and Skandhakas together con
stitute the Vinaya, a term originally connoting simply the practical or dis
ciplinary aspect o f the Dharm a.
-[...Parallel with the Bhikshu-Sangha there developed the Bhikshuni-Sangha or
Order o f N uns. But according to the tradition the Buddha was reluctant to
allow women to go forth into the homeless life and, in the history o f Indian
Buddhism a t least, the Bhikshuni-Sangha plays an insignificant part,
x. In a more general sense the Sangha comprises the. entire Buddhist com
munity, sanctified and unsanctified, the professed religieux and Jhe lay de
votees, men and women. A s such it is sometimes know n as the Mahdsangha
or ‘ G reat A ssem bly’ . L ay devotees (upâsakas and upâsikâs) are those who go
for refuge to the Three Jewels, worship the relics o f the Buddha, ’observe the
Five Precepts o f ethical behaviour, and support the monks.
The growth o f coenobitical monasticism naturally encouraged the de
velopment within the Sangha o f different regional traditions which, after
88 Buddhism
T H E O R A L T R A D IT IO N
It is well know n that the Buddha him self w rote nothing. Spiritual influence
and personal example apart, his teaching was communicated entirely by oral
means, through discourses to, and discussions with, his disciples and members
o f the public, as w ell as through inspired spontaneous utterance. W hile we do
not definitely know what language he spoke, it w ould appear that he rejected
the more ‘ classical’ Sanskrit in favour o f the vernacular, especially the
dialects o f K oéala and M agadha. W hen two m onks ‘ o f cultivated language
and eloquent speech’ com plained that m onks o f various names, clan-names,
and races (or castes) were corrupting the Buddha’ s message b y repeating it in
their own dialects, and asked for permission to put it into V edic verse he
firmly rejected their petition. ‘ Deluded m en !’, he exclaimed, ‘ H ow can you
say this? This will not lead to the conversion o f the unconverted’. And he
delivered a sermon and com m anded all the m onks: ‘Y o u are not to put the
B uddha’s message into Vedic. W hoever does so shall be guilty o f an.oflence.
I authorize you, monks, to learn (and teach) the Buddha’s message each in his
ow n dialect (sakkâya nirutliya).’ 4 In order to impress his teaching upon the
minds o f his auditors, as well as to facilitate its dissemination, he moreover
had recourse to the repetition o f key words aud phrases, the drawing up o f
numbered lists o f terms, and other m nem onic devices.
A ll these facts are o f far-reaching consequence. In the first place, the
D harm a having been orally taught, there intervened between the Parinirvàna
o f the Buddha and the com m itting o f his teaching to writing a period o f oral
transmission .lasting two or three centuries in the case o f some scriptures, and
ijiW ith the exception o f the Pâli Canon, the actual writing down o f w hich too k
p|ace in Ceylon, and certain M ahâyâna sütras that may have been com posed
in Central A sia or even in China, the canonical literature o f Buddhism is o f
exclusively Indian provenance. W here, when, and in what circumstances the
thousands o f individual texts o f which it consists were first committed to writ
in g is in most cases unknown. A ll that can be affirmed with certainty is that
ithe. canonical literature cam e into existence over a period o f roughly a
thousand years, from the first to the tenth century o f the Christian era, as a
series o f deposits from the oral tradition, the tendency apparently being for the
m ore exoteric teachings to be committed to writing before the m ore esoteric
ones. Even during the period o f oral tradition the complete words o f the
•Buddha were referred to as the Tripitaka, the three ‘ baskets’ or collections o f
the Buddha’s words. These three are the Viitaya Pitaka, the Sutra Pìtaka, and
the Abhidharma Pitaka. Together with the Tantras they make up the four chief
divisions o f the canonical writings.
The word viitaya, meaning ‘ that which leads aw ay from (evil)’ , stands for
the practical or disciplinary aspect o f Buddhism, and the Viitaya Pitaka com -
iprises the Collection o f (M onastic) Discipline. In the form in which it is now
extant it consists essentially o f tw o parts, the Vittaya-vibhanga and the
yim ya-vastu, together with historical and catechetical supplements. The
yirtaya-vibhanga or ‘ Exposition o f the V in aya’ contains the Prâtinioksha-
siitra in 150 articles and its commentary the Sùtra-vibhanga, one w ork being
embedded in the other. W hile the former embodies the various categories o f
90 Buddhism
rules binding upon members o f the eremitical Sangha, the latter gives a word-
for-word explanation o f each rule and narrates the circumstances in which it
cam e to be promulgated. T he Vinaya-vastu contains the Skandhakas or ‘ T he
C hapters’, o f which there are seventeen or more according to the individual
recension. These comprise the complete institutes o f coenobitical monastic-
ism, and deal with such topics as ordination, the Poshadha or fortnightly
meeting, the rains residence, medicine and food, robes, dwellings, and schism.
Inter alia the Vinaya Pitaka records not only the régula o f the monastic life
but also, in the words o f the pioneer scholar Csom a de K orôs, ‘ the manners,
customs, opinions, knowledge, ignorance, superstition, hopes, and fears o f a
great part o f A sia especially o f India in former ages’ .5 Together with the
Sütra Pitaka it is one o f our richest sources o f information on the civilization
and culture, the history, geography, sociology, and religion o fln d ia at about
the time o f the Buddha. In the Buddhist world there are now extant seven
complete recensions o f this collection, one in Pâli and six from Sanskrit.
These are essentially alternative arrangements o f the same basic material and
differ mainly in the extent to which non-monastic matter has been incorpor
ated. The existence, however, o f the Mahâuastu Avadâna, a bulky V inaya work
o f the Lokottarauadins (a sub-sect o f the Mahâsanghikas) which is not a dis
ciplinary work at all but a life o f the Buddha in which numerous legends have
been inserted, suggests that the original nucleus o f the V inaya was a primitive
biography o f the Buddha in which the monastic elements themselves were a
later, though still very early, interpolation.
The sütra, literally a thread, and hence by extension o f meaning the ' thread ’
o f discourse connecting a number o f topics, is perhaps the m ost important
and characteristic o f all Buddhist literary genres. It is essentially a religious
discourse delivered by the Buddha as it were ex cathedra to one or more dis
ciples, -whether members o f the Sangha, Bodhisattvas, lay devotees, ordinary
people, or gods. The Sütra Pitaka is thus the Collection o f Discourses, and
constitutes the principal source o f our knowledge o f the Dharm a. Som e dis
courses are either partly òr w holly in dialogue form . Others are delivered not
by the Buddha but by disciples speaking either with his approval or under his
inspiration. B roadly speaking the Sutras belong to two groups, Hinaiyâna and
M ahâyâna, the latter being those discourses which were not recognized as
authentic by the followers o f the Hînayâna schools, though the converse Was
not the case. Thé Hinayâna sûtras comprise fou r great collections known as
Âgamas in Sanskrit and Nikâyas in Pâli. The Dîrghâgama (Digita Nikâya) or
‘ L o n g ’ collection còntains, as its name suggests, the lengthy discourses, thirty
in number, while the Madhyamâgama (Majjhima Nikâya) or ‘ M id d le’ collec
tion contains those o f medium length, o f which there are about five times as
m any. These collections are the m ost important. T h e Samyuktâgama (Samyut-
ta .Nikâya) or ‘ G rouped’ collection contains some thousands o f very short
sûtras arranged accbrding to subject, and the Ekottarâgama (Aftguttara Nikâya)
or ‘ N um erical’ collection a similar number o f texts arranged according to the
progressive numerical value o f the terms and topics dealt with. Both collec
tions draw partly on the first two Âgam as and partly from original, sometimes
extremely ancient, sources. T h e Pàli Canon also contains a Klutddaka Nikâya
’ Quoted A . C . Banerjee, Saroâstivâda Literature, Calcutta, 1957, p. 79.
Buddhism 91
òr ‘ M in o r’ collection, consisting o f works such as the Dhammapada, the
Thera- and Theri-gâthâ, and the Jâ takas, which are found in Sanskrit, either
elsewhere in the Canon, mostly in the Vinaya Pitaka, or outside it as inde
pendent quasi-canonical works.
•■ The M ahâyâna sûtras are distributed into six great collections, the first five
ó f which represent natural divisions, while the last consists o f miscellaneous
independent works. First comes the group o f Prajnâpâramitâ or ‘ Perfection o f
W isdom ’ sûtras, o f which there are more than thirty, ranging in length from
Some thousands o f pages to' a few lines. T heir principal subject-matter is
Sfmyata or Voidness, and the Bodhisattva as the practitioner o f Voidness, and
they are am ong the profoundest spiritual documents know n to mankind. The
Vajracchedikâ, popularly known as the ‘ D iam ond Sütra’ , form s one o f the
shorter texts in this class. The Avatamsaka or ‘ Flow er-O m am ent’ group con
sists principally o f three enormous and com plex discourses o f that name, one
o f which, also known as the Gandavyttha or ‘ W orld -A rray’ Sutra, describes
the spiritual pilgrimage o f the youth Sudhana, w ho in his search for Enlighten
ment visits more than fifty teachers. In a boldly im aginative manner it ex
pounds the mutual interpenetration o f all phenomena. T h e Dasabhümika
Sütra, dealing with the ten stages o f the Bodhisattva’s career, also belongs to
this group. T he Ratnaküta and Mahâsamipâta groups are both made up o f
much shorter sutras, the former including such valuable and historically im
portant works as the Vimalakirti-nirdeJa or ‘ Exposition o f Vim alaklrti ’ and
the longer Sukhâvati-vyûha or ‘ A rray o f the H appy Land*. A s its name sug
gests, the N irvana or Parinirvàna group deals w ith the Buddha’s last days and
his final admonitions to his disciples. The sixth and last group, that o f the m is
cellaneous independent works, includes some o f the m ost im portant and in
fluential o f all M ahâyâna sûtras. A m on g them are the grandiose Saddharma-
ptindarika or ‘‘W hite Lotus o f the G o o d L a w ’, which presents in dram atic and
parabolic form the main truths o f the M ahâyâna, the Lankâoatâra, an un
systematic exposition o f the doctrine o f M ind-Only, and the shorter Sukhâ-.
mtî-vyûha, in which is taught salvation by faith in Am itàbha, the Buddha o f
Infinite Light. .
Abhidharma means ‘ about D h arm a’ , though traditionally the term was
often interpreted as ‘ higher D h arm a’ in the sense o f a philosophically more
exact exposition o f the Teaching. The Abhidharma Pitaka is a collection o f
highly scholastic treatises which annotate and explain the texts o f the Sütra
Pitaka, define technical terms, arrange numerically-clàssified doctrines in
order, give a systematic philosophical exposition o f the teaching, and estab
lish a consistent method o f spiritual practice. A b ove all, they interpret the
Dharma in terms o f strict pluralistic realism and w ork out an elaborate
philosophy o f relations. T w o different Abhidharma Pitakas have com e down
to us, one compiled by the Theravàdins and one by the Sarvàstivâdins. Each
contains seven treatises which, though covering similar ground in a similar
manner, are really two independent sets o f works.
A m on g the Theravâda treatises the most im portant are the Dhamma-
sangani or ‘ Enum eration o f (Ultimate) Elem ents’ ahd.the gigantic Patthâna
ór ‘ (Book o f) O rigination’. The most im portant SatVâstivâda w ork is the en
cyclopedic JnUna-prasthana or ‘ Establishment o f Know ledge ’, which is known
92 Buddhism
PHASES OF D E V E L O P M E N T
From the Parinirvàna o f the Buddha .to the sack o f Nàlandâ (c. 1197)
Indian Buddhism passed through three great phases o f development, tradi
tionally known as the H lnayàna, the M ahâyâna, and the Yajrayâna, each with
its own characteristics and its own spiritual ideals. These phases were not
m utually exclusive. The earlier yânas, besides continuing to exist as inde
pendent schools, were also incorporated in the later ones and regarded as
constituting, with modifications, their indispensable theoretical and practical
foundation.
Th e Hlnayàna, ‘ Little V eh icle’ or ‘ Lower W a y ’, was so called ,b y the
M ahâyanists because it teaches the attainment o f salvation for oneself alone.
It is predom inantly cthico-psychological in character and its spiritual ideal is
Buddhism 93
embodied in the austere figure o f the Arhant, a person in whom all craving is
extinct, and who will no more be reborn. While mindfulness, self-control,
equanimity, detachment, and the rest o f the ascetic virtues are regarded as in
dispensable, in the final analysis emancipation (moksha) is attained through in
sight into the transitory (a/iitya) and painful (duhkiia) nature o f conditioned
things, as well as into the non-selfhood (nairâlmyatâ) o f all the elements o f
existence (djiarmas), whether conditioned or unconditioned. This last consists
in the realization that personality is illusory, and that, far from being a sub
stantial entity, the so-called ‘ I ’ is only the conventional label for a congeries
o f evanescent material and mental processes. A t the price o f complete with
drawal from all worldly concerns emancipation, or Arhantship, is attainable
in this very birth.
j{.The Hinayâna therefore insists upon the necessity o f the monastic life, with
which, indeed, it tends to identify the spiritual life altogether. T he laity simply
observe the more elementary precepts, worship the-relics o f the Buddha, and
support the monks, by which means merit (punya) is accumulated and rebirth
in heaven assured. As for the difference between Buddha and Arhant, it is
only a matter o f relative priority o f attainment, and o f relative extent o f
supernormal powers. T he most widespread and influential Hïnayâna school
in earlier times was that o f the Sarvâstivâdins, w ho were greatly devoted to
the study and propagation o f the Abhidharm a. T h ey were later also known as
the Vaibhâshikas, the Ifibhâsha being the gigantic commentary on the Jiimia-
prasthâna which had been compiled by the leaders o f the school in K ashm ir
during the first or second century o f the Christian era. The contents o f the
Vibhâsha are systematized and explained in Vasubandhu’s Abhidharma-kosa
or Treasury o f the Abhidharma, a w ork which represents the culmination o f
Hinayâna thought and has exercised enormous historical influence. T he com
mentary incorporates Sautrântika views, thus not only bridging the gap
between the Hinayâna and the M ahàyâna but paving the way for V asuban
dhu’s own conversion to the latter yâita.
The M ahâyâna, literally ‘ G reat V eh icle’ or 'G re a t W a y ’, is so called be
cause it teaches the salvation o f all. Predominantly devotional and meta
physical in character, its ideal is the Bodhisattva, the heroic being who,
^practising the six or ten Perfections (pôramità) throughout thousands o f lives,
:aspires to the attainment o f Buddhahood for the sake o f all sentient beings.
^Perspectives infinitely vaster than those o f the Hinayâna arc here disclosed.
T h e earlier vehicle is regarded by the M ahâyânists not as wrong but'only as
inadequate, the provisional rather than the final teaching, given out by the
Buddha to disciples o f inferior calibre whom a sudden revelation o f the trans
cendent glories o f the M ahâyâna might have stupefied rather than enlightened.
■• In the M ahâyâna Arhantship, far from being the highest achievement, is
only a stage o f the path; the true goal is Supreme Buddhahood. This is
-achieved not merely by piercing the gross veil o f passions (klesâvarana) by in
sight into the non-selfhood o f the person (pudgala-nairàtmya) but, in addition,
by piercing the subtle veil o f cognizable objects (Jneyâvarana) by the realiza
tion that the so-called ultimate elements o f which, according to.the Hinayâna,
the person consists, are only mental constructs and, therefore, themselves de
void o f selfhood (dharma-nairâtmya) and unreal. In this radical manner the
94 Buddhism
concentrate upon two vitally important issues: caste and means o f livelihood.
The Buddha rejected the system o f hereditary caste. A man’s position in
society, he maintained, is determined not by birth (Jâtï) but by worth, by con
duct (charcma), and by character (charitra) rather than by descent. Brâhmani-
cal pretensions to hereditary holiness were therefore dismissed with ridicule,
and membership o f the Buddhist community, whether as m onks or lay de
votees, was thrown open to all who too k refuge in the Three Jewels and were
prepared to observe the Sila appropriate to their vocation. Means o f livelihood
(âjiva) are o f two kinds, right (samyak) and wrong (milhya). T h e Buddha re
fused to concede that a man’s life could be compartmentalized, with his pro
fessional conduct governed by one set o f standards and his private life by
another, or that the form er constituted a neutral field to which ethical con
siderations need not apply. H e went so far, indeed, as to prohibit essentially
unethical occupations, such as those o f the butcher, the dealer in poisons, and
the weapon-maker, and to make R ight Means o f Livelihood (samyak-âjiva)
the fifth member o f the A ryan Eightfold Path.
In the sphere o f politics Buddhism holds that the government should pro
m ote the welfare o f the people (not excluding animals) by all possible means.
Religion is to be made the basis o f national life. In particular, m orality is to
be encouraged and the Sangha supported. This simple but sublime ideal finds
picturesque embodiment in the figure o f the Chakravarti-râja or Dharmarâja
(the latter representing, perhaps, the m ost distinctly Buddhist phase o f the
conception) as described, for example, in the Mahâsudassana Suttanta} H is
torically speaking, it receives splendid exemplification in the person o f ASoka,
who in his Thirteenth R o ck Edict renounces war and proclaims the ideal o f
dharma-vijaya or victory through righteousness, as well as being cultivated
with varying degrees o f success by some later rulers, both Indian and non-
Indian, who strove to emulate the m ost illustrious o f the M auryas.
D E C L IN E A N D R E V IV A L
Jainism
by A . N . U p a d h y e
J a in ism is essentially an Indian religion and it is still a living faith in some parts
o f the country. T h e number o f its followers is just over two m illion. Its con
tribution to the Indian heritage is more significant than might be expected for
its numerical strength. A s an institutionalized religion, it has held its ground
all along. It has sometimes enjoyed royal patronage, and it has produced
w orthy m onks and laymen o f whom any society could be proud. T he Jaina
contributions to Indian art and architecture, to the preservation and enrich
ment o f Indian literature, and to the cultivation o f languages, both Aryan and
D ravidian, are praiseworthy. Lastly, the religious instincts inculcated by
Jainism have left an abiding impression on many aspects o f Indian life.
The origins o f Jainism go b ack to prehistoric times. They are to be sought
in the fertile valley o f the G anga where there throve in the past, even before
the advent o f the A ryans with their priestly religion, a society o f recluses who
laid much stress on individual exertion, on the practice o f a code o f morality,
and on devotion to austerities, sometimes o f a severe type, as a means o f
attaining the religious summum bomim. These recluses held a number o f
primitive views; such as a pessimistic outlook on life, a belief in man’s poten
tiality to become god through his own exertions, the doctrine o f the trans
m igration o f the spirit, an animistic belief in the presence o f souls or life in all
things, and in karma, then conceived o f as material, and its supreme force over
the lives o f all beings. A ll these ideas were later merged into the general
stream o f Indian thought. W ith the growth o f Brahmanism the practices and
preachings o f these recluses were often antagonistic to those o f the priestly
V edic religion. These two categories o f religious leaders, sramanas and
brâhmanas, caught the attention o f foreign travellers; ASoka mentions both in
bis inscriptions; they are frequently referred to in early Jaina and Buddhist
w orks; and Patanjali mentions the natural conflict between their interests. In
the sixth century n.c. we know the names o f a number o f sramana teachers
such as M akkbali Gosâla, PQrana Kassapa, etc.; and at least two o f them,
M ahâvlra and Buddha, have won recognition in the religious history o fln d ia
as leaders o f faiths living to this day. In all likelihood even K apila, o f Sânkhya
fam e, showed positive éramaniç tendencies in his doctrines.
A ccording to Jainism there have flourished in this age twenty-four Tirth-
ankaras, or leaders o f their religion. The first o f them was Rishabha, the
twenty-second N em i or Nem inâtha, the twenty-third Pàrsva, and the last
M ahàvïra. Rishabha figures as a great saint o f antiquity; and, in later Hindu
literature, he is noted fo r his queer practices and credited with propagating
heretic doctrines which are common to Jainism. He is said to have laid the
foundations for orderly human society. Neminâtha is associated in Jainism
with Krishna o f the Y âd ava clan, whom the Hindus adopted as an aoatâra o f
Jainism lo i
Jainism starts with two principles, the living (jiva) and the non-living
(iajiva), T he living is already in contact with the non-living from beginningless
Umè. This contact subjects the living being, on account o f thoughts, words,
end acts, to the influx (âsrava) o f fresh energies known as karmas,* w hich are
conceived as subtle matter. This influx can be counteracted (sanwara) by re
ligious discipline; and the existing stock (bandita) o f karmas can be exhausted
(nirjarà) through severe-austerities. Then salvation (moksha) is attained; and
therein the living being reaches its pristine purity, divested o f all that is alien
to its nature. This, in general terms, is the scheme o f Jaina principles (tattvas).
5>;Soul and non-soul (Jfva and ajiva) are the basic principles which com prise
all that exists in the universe. T h e soul is characterized by sentiency or con
sciousness; but in its embodied state it also has sense-organs, activities o f
mind, speech, and body, respiration, and a period o f life. Souls are infinite in
number; they always retain their individuality, and they cannot be destroyed
dem erged into any other supreme being. Living beings can exist in two states,
liberated (siddha or mukta) and w orldly (samsdrin). T h e latter ordinarily are
classified as mobile (trasa) and im m òbile (sthâvara); and still a third state is
conceived, nam ely that o f nigoda beings. M obile beings are o f five kinds
according to the number o f sense-organs they possess; and some o f those with
five senses have a discriminating faculty, seen in men and divinities, and
dimly in some o f the higher animals. T h e im m obile are in the form o f earth,
water, fire, air, and vegetables, having only the sense o f touch. T h e nigoda are
host-souls with a com m on body and respiration; and they are present all over
the. world. T hey represent the lowest state o f life, as contrasted w ith the highest
state o f the liberated ones; both are infinite, and balance the infinite sum-
total o f the living world. Such a close study o f living beings has, besides m eta
physical insight, an.ethico-m oral object: to show the Jaina how to practise
ahimsS at various stages o f his spiritual career.
K now ledge is inherent in the soul, being the manifestation o f the con
sciousness which characterizes the latter; but its function is hindered by K a r
mic encrustment, so it is found in different degrees in different souls. D irect
knowledge by the soul itself is o f three types: o f remote time and space
(avadhi), o f the thoughts o f others (manahparyâya), and o f everything in the
universe w ithout the limits o f space and time (kevala-jnâna). Indirect know
ledge covers our experience through our sense-organs (mati) and that which
we obtain through scriptures etc. (srtita). T he indirect belongs to all o f us in
varying degrees; the first two o f the direct types are possessed by great saints;
and the third is seen fully in the omniscient Teacher, w ho is soon to obtain
liberation.
N on-living (ajiva) substance is devoid o f sentiency and is o f five kinds.
M atter (ptidgala) is possessed o f sense-qualities. Earth, water, fire, and air are
gross forms o f matter, the indivisible ultimate unit o f w hich is the atom or
ana. Even sound, darkness, light, shadow, etc. are looked upon as form s o f
matter. T h e next two types o f non-living substance are dharma and adharma,
the principles o f m otion and rest. These two terms a ïe used in Jainism in this
special sense, which should be distinguished from their usual meaning. T hey
1 The reader should take special note o f the Jaina use o f this term, which differs from its
general usage in Hinduism and Buddhism, and may thus lead to confusion. fEd.J
104 Jainism
W hat the nayas divulge individually is only n part, whiclï should not be
misunderstood for the whole; and it is not enough if various problems about
reality are understood merely from different points o f view. W hat one knows
one must be able to state truly and accurately. In Jainism this need is met by
the theory o f syàduâda. T he object o f knowledge is a huge com plexity covering
infinite modes and related to the three times, past, present, and future; the
human mind is o f limited understanding; and human speech has its imperfec
tions in expressing the whole range o f experience. In these circumstances none
o f our statements is more than conditionally or relatively true. So Jaina logic
insists on qualifying every statement with the term syàt, i.e., ‘ som ehow ’ or ‘ in
a w ay’, to emphasize its conditional or relative character. Such a qualification
is to be always understood, whether a term like syât is added or not. A ju d ge
ment, ordinarily cpeaking, can assume two form s: affirmative and negative,
and refers to the substance (dravya), place (kshetra), time (kâla), and shape or
concept (blwva) o f an object.
An affirmative judgement predicates the characteristics possessed by a thing,
while a negative one denies characteristics absent in it but belonging to others.
Besides these two judgements, ‘ Somehow S is P ‘ and ‘ Som ehow S is not P ’,
Jaina logic admits a third kind o f judgement, that o f indescribability: ‘ Som e
how S is indescribable.’ This is o f great philosophical significance. In view o f
the complexity o f the objective world, and o f m an’s limited knowledge and
imperfect speech, Jaina logic anticipates and admits situations which cannot,
be described in terms o f simple 'y e s ’ or ‘ n o ’. A thing cannot be described at
all when no distinction is made as to standpoints and aspects. Som e aspect can
be affirmed, or denied separately from a certain point o f view, or both
affirmed and denied successively. But, when this predication is to be made
simultaneously, one is faced with contradiction which can be wisely avoided
by this third judgement o f ‘ indescribability’.
These three are the basic predications; and when they are combined suc
cessively and simultaneously, the maximum number o f com binations is seven
and not more. These should be able to answer every purpose, however qomplex
it may be. This doctrine o f sevenfold predication is often misunderstood and
misrepresented by idealists who have not been able to appreciate it£ m eta
physical basis and intellectual approach. It reminds one o f the realist relativists
o f the W est, such as Whitehead and others. T h e Jaina logician is neither a
sceptic nor an agnostic; but he is a realist working with sound com m on sense.
He does not want to ignore the relative or conditional character o f the judge
ment arising out o f the very nature o f the object o f knowledge.
The soul has been in association with karmic matter from time immemorial,
and the object o f the Jaina religion is to free the soul from karma. The.activi
ties o f mind, speech, and body lead to the coqstant influx o f karmas which
form the kàrmana-sarïra, or karmic body, for the soul, whereby it moves in
Samsara. Everyone is responsible for his own karmas, and there is no escape
from them unless one experiences their fruits, good or bad. Jainism admits no
G od to bestow favour or frown: the law o f karma works autom atically in
shaping one’s lot. There are eight basic’ types o f karmas named according to
their effect on the nature o f the soul, which is inherently endowed with the in
finite quaternity o f knowledge, insight, energy, and happiness. T he first two
io6 Jainism
karmas obstruct knowledge and insight, the third infatuates the soul, the
fourth gives rise to pleasure and pain, the fifth determines the period o f life,
the sixth shapes the body, etc., the seventh fixes fam ily, etc., and the last
brings about hindrances o f various kinds. The type, duration, intensity, and
quantum o f each karma is determined when the bondage thereof takes place.
These eight types are further subdivided into 148 sub-types which explain
man’s various experiences in life.
A s the influx and destruction o f karmas entirely depend on man’s activities,
Jainism lays special stress on the ethical code. This takes two forms, one in
tended for the householder and the other for the m onk. Both are comple
m entary; and if they differ, it is only in the degree o f the rigour o f practice.
T he basic vows are five: (1) abstention from injury to living beings (ahimsâ);
(2) speaking the truth (satya); (3) not stealing (asleya); (4) chastity (brahma-
charya); and (5) limiting one’s possessions (aparlgraha). The principle o f
ahimsâ is the logical outcome o f the Jaina metaphysical theory that all souls
are potentially equal. N o one likes pain. N aturally, therefore, one should not
do to others what one does not want others to do to oneself. The social im
plications o f this principle o f reciprocity are profoundly beneficial.
Jainisin is perhaps the only Indian religion which has explained the doctrine
o f ahimsâ in a systematic manner, because all other values were elaborated on
'this basis. Violence or injury is o f three kinds: physical violence, which covers
killing, wounding, and causing any physical pain; violence in words, which
consists o f using harsh language; and mental violence, which implies bearing
ill feeling towards others. Further, violence m ay be committed, commissioned,
or consented to. A householder is unable to avoid all these forms o f violence
in an absolute manner, so be is expected to cause minimal injury to others. In
view o f the sort o f society in which we have to live, injury is classified under
four heads: first, there is accidental injury in the course o f digging, pounding,
cooking, and other such activities essential to daily living; second, there is
occupational injury, as when a soldier fights, an agriculturist tills the land, etc. ;
third, there is protective injury, as when one protects one’s own or other
people’s lives and honour against wild beasts and enemies; and last, there is
intentional injury when one kills beings w ith the full intention o f killing them,
as in hunting or butchery. A householder is expected to abstain completely
from intentional injury and as far as possible from the rest. It is the intention
or the mental attitude that matters more than the act. So one has to take the
utmost care to keep one’s intentions pure and pious and to abstain from inten
tional injury. The practice o f these various vows puts some restriction on the
choice o f a profession and makes for a humane outlook in society.
There are seven additional vows which help one to develop qualities such as
self-restraint, self-denial, and renunciation. In fact, a layman gradually pre
pares him self for the life o f an ascetic. Practices such as these have maintained
a close tie between the layman and the m onk; both are actuated by the same
m otive and moved by the same religious ideals, with the result that this close
association between thein has contributed rem arkably to the religious solid
arity o f the Jaina community.
The course o f right conduct prescribed for laymen is conveniently divided
into eleven steps (pralimâ) which are included in the fifth stage o f spiritual
Jainism 107
routine. This great son o f India, M ahatm a Gfmdht, has reinterpreted the doc
trine o f ahimsâ, non-violence, and satya, truth, for the modern world; and
these two principles can be looked upon as universal m oral norms, by which
to judge the behaviour o f men and women, individually and collectively.
I
CH APTER X
Philosophy
by S. N . D a s G u p ta
IN T R O D U C T IO N B Y TH E E D IT O R
T h is chapter, som ewhat abridged and otherwise edited, has been carried over
from the original Legacy o f India. It is the w ork o f one o f the greatest Indian
specialists in the field, w h o died in 1952. F rom the point o f view o f the genera!
reader it m ay be found difficult in places, fo r within the limits o f the space
permitted the author has attempted not only a m ere survey o f some o f the
m ore obvious basic doctrines, but also a discussion at considerable depth o f
m ore recondite aspects o f the doctrines o f some o f the Indian philosophical
schools. In doing so he seems to have been compelled by considerations o f
space virtually to ignore several other im portant schools o f Indian p h ilosop h y..
B y drastically rem oving Professor D as Gupta's rather lengthy treatment o f
Buddhism, w hich is dealt with elsewhere in this volume, w e have found room
for a few extra paragraphs on the N yâya, Vaiseshika, M lm àm sà, and Vedanta
schools, which are the w ork o f the editor.
truth which is immanent and transcendent at the same time in all our ex
periences and in all objects denoted by it. It is infinite reality, limitless and
illimitable. The Upanishads thus lay the foundation o f all later Hiindu philo
sophy. A ll Hindu thinkers accept in more or less modified form, the funda
mental tenet o f the Upanishads that self is the ultimate reality, and all ex
periences are extraneous to it.
B y the beginning o f the Christian era six philosophical schools or systems
had emerged in Hinduism. Though differing very widely, they w ere all looked
on as orthodox, since they all accepted the inspiration o f the Vedas and the
claim o f the brahmans to ritual supremacy. They were finked together in
pairs, as complementing one another or otherwise showing close: relations.
The three pairs were: (i) Sânkhya and (ii) Yoga; (iii) Nyaya and (iv) Vaise
shika; and (v) Mimâmsâ and (vi) Vedânta or Uttara'mimSmsâ.
T h e Sânkhya is probably the earliest Indian attempt at system atic philo
sophy. Its foundation is attributed to K apila, who is said to have written the
original textbook o f the school, the Shashti-tantra in sixty chapters. T his w ork
is now lost, and we know only the names o f those chapters. W e find elements
o f Sânkhya even in the earliest Upanishads, and we have reason to tiefieve that
the system was probably not originally written, but underwent a co.urse o f de
velopm ent at different stages and under different influences; though it is pos
sible that at some particular stage K ap ila m ay have contributed so much
towards its systematization as to be generally regarded as the original ex
pounder o f the system. It is generally accepted that the S â n k h y a .has two
principal schools, the atheistic and the iheistic. The theistic Sân khya is now
associated with Patanjali and is otherwise called the Y o g a system . T he oldest
surviving text o f the atheistic or non-theistic School o f Sânkhy a in its gener
ally accepted form is a compendium o f Iâvara Krishna (third century À.D.).
Patanjali is supposed to have flourished somewhere about the m iddle o f the
second century b . c . The Sânkhya and Y o g a , in their various form s, have pro- •
foundly influenced Hindu culture and religion in all their varied aspects.
According to Sânkhya the word prakriti means the original, substance,
w hich consists o f three classes o f neutral entities called g anas— Sattva, repre
senting truth and virtue, Rajas, present in all that is active, fiery, or aggressive,
and Tamas, the principle o f darkness, dullness, and inactivity. T hose are con
tinually associating with one another for the fullest expression o f ’ their inner
potentialities. They form themselves into groups, and not only ai.e the inner
constituents o f each o f the groups w orking in union with one ano ther for the
manifestation o f the groups as wholes, but the wholes them selves are also
w orking in union with one another fo r the self-expression o f the; individual
whole and o f the community o f wholes for the manifestation o l'm o r e and
m ore developed forms. Causation is thus viewed as the actualization o f the
potentials. The order o f all cosm ic operations is deduced from tb:e inherent
inner order and relations o f the neutral reals. Relations are conceived as the
Ainctions o f these reals, with which they are m etaphysically identica I. Prakriti
is regarded as the hypothetical state o f the pure potential conditions o f these
reals. It is supposed that this pure potential state breaks up into a stiate which
m ay be regarded as the stuff o f cosmic mind. This partly individuates itself as
individual minds, and partly develops itself into space, from that int'o poten-
Philosophy
liai mailer, and later on inlo actual gross m ailer as atoms. The individuated
minds evolve out o f themselves the various sensory and conative functions
and the synthetic and analytic functions called manas. T hey also reveal them
selves in the psychical planes or personalities o f individuals.
It is evident that the complexes formed from the neutral reals derive their
meaning and functioning through a reference to the other or the others, for
the manifestation o f which they are co-operating together. This other-
reference o f the reals (gunas) is their inherent teleology. But such other-
references must have a limit, if an infinite regression is to be avoided. In a
general manner it m ay be said that the two broad groups, the psychical and
the physical, are working together in m utual reference. It is therefore assumed
that there is an unrelational element, called purusha, a pure consciousness
which presides over every individuated mind. B y reference to this the non-
conscious psychic phenomena attain their final meaning as conscious pheno
mena. The whole history o f consdious phenomena attains its last m etaphysical
purpose in self-annulment, by dn ultimate retroversion o f reference from
purusha towards the ultimate prihciple o f consciousness, by which the final
other-reference to the purusha ceases. There must be a stage in which the
positive other-references end themselves in self-reference, whereby the u lti
mate bond o f the psychic manifestation or the personality w ith the purusha
will cease. This cessation in the history o f any individual psychic plane m arks
its culmination and is regarded as a final metaphysical liberation o f the
purusha associated with that individual psychic plane. There are as m any
purtishas as there are psychic planes. T he purusha is regarded as the principle
o f consciousness unrelated to its fellow purushas and also to any o f the coiïfc
plexes o f the neutral reals.
It has already been said that space is derived as a m odification o f the reals.
Tim e is to be regarded as having a transcendental and a.phenom enal aspect.
Under the former, time is identical with the movement inherent in the guna
reals and as such it is even prior to space. In the latter aspect, that is time as
measurable, and as before and after, it is mental construction in which the
ultimate unit o f measure is regarded as the time taken by an atom to traverse
its own dimension o f space. Since all conceivable objects in the world are pro
ducts o f the guna reals, and since there is n o other agent, the guna reals hold
within themselves in a potential manner all things o f the world, which are
manifested first in the emergent categories o f cosm ic personality, ego, the
eleven senses, five kinds o f potential matter, and five kinds o f actuaj m atter.
These together form the twenty-five categories from the enumeration o f which
the Sânkhya system is supposed to have drawn its name, meaning numeration
or counting.
The Yoga, which is in general agreement with the entire metaphysical posi
tion o f the Sânkhya, thinks that the elements leading to a positive m isconcep
tion or misidentification o f the purusha as being o f the same nature as the guna
complexes are responsible for the possibility o f the nisus and the resulting
experience. This is technically called ignorance or avidyâ. Y o g a further holds
that this avidyâ manifests itself or grows into the various cementing principles
o f the mind, emotional and volitional, such as ego-consciousness, attachment,
antipathy, and the self-preservative tendency. A s a result o f the operation o f
r r6 Philosophy
these principles, as grounded in the avidyâ, the mind behaves as a whole and
? cquires experience and determines itself in the objective environment.
A ccording to both Sànkhya and Y o ga , the individuated mind has a beginning-
less history o f emotional and volitional tendencies integrated ,or inwoven, as it
were, in its very structure as it passes from one cycle o f life to another. T he
determination o f the mind in pursuance o f its end as desire, w ill, or action is
called karma. It is further held that all such determinations create potential
energies which must fructify as diverse kinds o f pleasurable or painful ex
periences, environments, conditions, and the periods o f particular lives in
which these experiences are realized. .
T h e self-determining movement o f the mind for the attainment o f liberation
can only start when one begins to discover that all experiences are painful. A s
a result thereof the young saint becomes disinclined towards all the so-called
jo y s o f the world and ceases to have any interest in the propagation o f the
life-cycle. Such a cessation cannot be b y death. F or death means further re
birth. The cessation o f the life-cycles must necessarily be sought in the extinc
tion o f the conditions determining the mind-structure. For this,, he adopts
means b y which he can invert the process o f operation o f the mind-structure,
w hich consists o f the integrated content o f images, concepts, and their em o
tional and volitional associates, o f various kinds, below the surface. These are
im mediately absorbed below the conscious level as the subconscious, semi
conscious, and unconscious. T h e various elements o f the psychic structure in
the different levels are held together to a great extent b y ties o f emotion and
volition referring to the enjoyment o f w orldly objects. It is these that are Con
tinually attracting our minds.
T h e followers o f Y o g a should in the first instance practise a definite system
o f m oral and religious restraints, such as non-injury, truthfulness, purity,
sincerity, sex-contro), self-contentment, and the like, calledyamas and niyamas,
for the external purification o f mind. Ordinarily all activities associated with
m ental life are o f the nature o f continual relationing and movement. T he
Y o g in who wishes to invert the processes underlying the maintenance o f
psychic structure arrests his mind statically on a particular object to the ex
clusion o f all others, so that on the focal point o f consciousness there may be
on ly one state, which does not move, and all relationing process o f the mind
is at complete arrest.
Y o g a is defined as a partial or complete arrest or cessation o f the mental
states. A s an accessory process the Y o gin learns to steady him self in a par
ticular posture (dsana) and gradually to arrest the processes o f breathing
(prânâyâma). His efforts to exclude other objects and to intensify the selected
mental state which is to be kept steady on the focal point are called dhâranâ
and dhyâna respectively. A s a result o f his progressive success in arresting the
mental states, there arise new types o f wisdom (prajna) and the subconscious
potencies gradually wear out; ultimately all the subconscious and unconscious
potencies o f the structural relations are destroyed, and, as a result thereof, the
avidyâ which was determining the nisus o f the mind is destroyed, and the
whole fabric o f the mind is disintegrated, leaving the pure purusha in bis
transcendent loneliness (kamalya), which is regarded as the ultim ate aspira
tion o f the human mind.
Philosophy U7
fourlh. The example (here Ihe kitehen) was looked on as an essential element
o f the syllogism, and also seems to derive from debating technique. It is a sur
vival from the earliest phase o f Indian philosophical thought, when listeners
were often satisfied with analogical arguments. A n example o f such an argu
ment is the fam ous parable o f the salt in the Chhàndogya Upanishad (vi. 13),
which is mentioned above (p. 113). As salt dissolves in water, so the individual
is dissolved in the absolute Brahman. This, from the point o f view o f logic, is
no argument at all, but it helps to explain a mystical theory and is very
effective as a means o f enforcing conviction upon one already predisposed
to believe the proposition.
O n this basis the N yâya logicians developed the very subtle and difficult
doctrines referred to at the beginning o f this chapter as ultra-logical, which
have been little studied outside circles o f specially trained pandits until quite
recently. T hey are too recondite for consideration here, but it should be noted
that in some respects they prefigure the new logic o f the twentieth-century
' W est, and represent a significant element in the intellectual heritage o f India.
T h e Vaiieshika School was based on a system o f atomism, explaining the
cosm ic process in which the soul was involved. T hé VaiSeshikas, like the Sân-
khyas, held that the soul was w holly different frorn the cosmos, and that its
salvation lay in fully realizing this difference. The first stage in this process was
the recognition o f the world’ s atom ic character. Thé universe was an infinitely
com plex and endlessly changing pattern o f atoms (am) com bining and dis
solving according to regular principles. A t the end o f the cosm ic cycle the
atom s reverted to a state o f complete equilibrium from which they only
emerged at the beginning o f the next cycle, as the raw material o f a new
cosmos^
T he Indian atom ic system, in many respects anticipating the theories o f
modern physics, was the result not oKexperiment and observation but rather
o f logical thought. Since an endless regress was logically and psychologically
unsatisfactory, it was believed that there must be a final stage in the subdivi
sion o f any p iecd of matter, beyond which further subdivision was impossible.
Hence the universe must be atom ic in structure. Further developments o f the
theory led to à doctrine o f molecules to accouitt for the multifarious variety o f
the world. The V aiieshika philosophers agreed thus far with modern scientific
physics; they did not, however, hit on a realistic theory o f elements, which
would have demanded practical investigation and experiment. L ike most other
Indian philosophers, they maintained the existence o f five atom ic elements—
earth, water, fire, air, and âkâia, which filled all space; âkâJa is generally
translated ‘ ether’, in the sense in which this term was iised in Western pre
relativity physics.
T h e Mimâmsâ School was primarily one o f Vedic exegesis, and set out to
prove the complete truth and accuracy o f the sacred texts, in m uch the same
manner as did the doctors o f the medieval Catholic Church or such Protestant
reformers as Calvin. The world-view o f this school was not distinctive, but its
teachers produced interesting and original theories o f semantics, and some o f
them m ade contributions in the field o f law.
O ut o f the M im âm sâ School emerged the most important o f the six systems,
the UItara-Mïmâmsâ (‘ Later Mim âm sâ ’), more com m only known as Vedanta,
Philosophy r T9
The End o f the V ed as’ . This term was apt because, unlike the M îm âm sakas,
w ho placed equal emphasis on all the V edic literature, the Vedântins stressed
the significance o f the Upanishads, which fo r them formed a sort o f N ew
Testament, not a mere appendix to the earlier Vedic literature. T h e main task,
as they conceived it, was to harmonize the teachings o f these texts into a con
sistent body o f doctrine.
T h e basic text o f the Vedânta School is the Brahma Sûtras o f Bàdarâyana,
composed perhaps 2,000 years ago. These are a series o f very terse aphorisms,
perhaps originally intended as lecture notes, to be filled out extem pore by the
teacher. Since they are so elliptical and ambiguous they were com m ented on
and differently interpreted by numerous great doctors o f medieval Hinduism
to produce a wide range o f philosophical and theological systems.
' Undoubtedly the m ost influential and probably the m ost subtle o f these
teachers was Sankara, a south Indian Saivite brahm an who, early in the ninth
century, com posed lengthy commentaries on the Brahma Sutras, the chief
Upanishads, and the Bhagavad Gita. In these he put forw ard his fam ous
doctrine o f.Adoaita (‘ N o second’, i.e. monism), m aintaining that the pheno
menal universe with all its multifariousness, and the whole hierarchy o f being
from the greatest o f the gods downwards, were not absolutely real, but were
mâyâ, the secondary emanations o f the one ultimate absolute being, the im
personal neuter entity know n as Brahman, characterized by the three atri-
butes o f being (sat), consciousness (chit), and bliss (ânanda). Brahm an was un
changing and eternally stable, while everything else, being finally unreal, was
subject to change, which, in the case o f the individual being, m anifested.itself
in the form o f samsara, the process o f transmigration.
T h e eternal quest o f the Indian mystic was to be fulfilled b y the complete
tand final realization o f the identity o f his soul or inmost self (âtmâ) with
-:Brahman. This was to b e achieved by spiritual training and meditation.
Sankara did not reject the gods, but taught that they were the prim ary m ani
festations o f the impersonal Absolute, sharing up tò a point in the unreality
o f all things. Their worship might help humble souls, but the spiritual athlete
^strove to pass beyond them, to direct knowledge o f final reality, w hich was to
be found in his own self. Thus Sankara’s system is sometimes referred to as
'T h e W ay o f K n ow led ge’ (jnâna~mârga). It is wrong, however, to look on
ithis system as fundam entally an intellectual one. T h e knowledge referred to
is n o t com parable with that acquired by learning, but rather w ith the know
ledge gained from intensely close acquaintance— the knowledge o f the man
who declares ‘ I know m y w ife’, rather than that o f the one w ho says ‘ I know
the theory o f prime num bers’.
T h e Upanishads contain a very wide range o f doctrines and Sankara’s re
duction o f their contents to a single consistent system was only achieved by
brilliant exegesis, in no w ay inspired b y the modern open-minded attem pt to
think the thoughts o f the authors o f the texts. L ike most m edieval Christian
schoolm en faced with similar exegetical problem s, Sankara approached his-
texts with the full conviction that he already knew w hat they meant. H is task
was to convince his readers and hearers that this was w hat they really did
mean. His brilliant dialectic was on the w hole successful with later genera
tions, and his system even today is the m ost im portant one in intellectual
J 20 Philosophy
E T H IC A L P H IL O S O P H Y
himself o f all impurities o f passion, such as greed, antipathy, self-love, and the
like, having filled the mind with a spirit o f universal friendship, compassion,
and charity, and having attained perfect stability o f mind, so as to be entirely
unaffected by pleasures and afflictions o f any kind, and being attached to G od
through bonds o f love which also unite man with his fellow beings, the true
seer should continue to perform the normal duties that are allotted to his
station o f life in society. Even i f he has no self-interest in the perform ance o f
his duties, no end to realize, no purpose to fulfil, no fruition o f desire to be
attained, he must yet continue to perform all normal duties, just as an ordinary
•man in his station o f life would. The difference between the seer and the
ordinary man in the sphere o f performance o f actions is that the former,
through the attainment o f .wisdom, the conquest o f passions, the wasting
aw ay o f all inner impurities, through the bonds o f love with G o d and fellow
beings, and through the philosophical knowledge o f the ultimate nature o f the
self, though dissociated and detached from everything else, yet takes his stand
in the common place o f hum anity as represented in society and continues to
perform his duties from a pure sense o f duty in an absolutely unflinching
manner. The ordinary man, however, being engrossed with passions and
bound down with ties o f all kinds, cannot take a true perspective o f life, and
while performing his duties can only do them from motives o f self-interest.
H is performance o f duties is thus bound to be imperfect, and vitiated by. self
seeking tendencies and the promptings o f lower passions. .
T h e aim o f transcendent philosophy is thus not merely theoretical, but is
intensely practical. However high a man may soar, to whatsoever higher, per
spective o f things he m ay open his eyes, he is ultimately bound in ties o f social
duties to his fellow beings on earth in every station o f life. A high and trans
cendent philosophy, which can only open itself through the attainment o f the
highest moral perfection and which leads one through the region beyond good
and evil, again draws him down to the sharing o f com m on duties w ith the
other members o f society. T h e attainment o f the highest wisdom , which
makes one transcend all others, is only h alf o f the circle. T he other h a lf must
be completed by his being on an equal footing with his fellow beings. T he
philosophy o f ‘ beyond good and evil’ does not leave a man in the air, but
makes him efficient.in the highest degree in the discharge o f duties.within
‘ good and evil'. The illusoriness o f good and evil has to be perceived only for
the purpose o f more adequately obeying the demands o f duties in the com m on
social sphere. Alm ost all systems o f Indian philosophy, excepting the followers
o f the Sankara School o f Vedànta, agree in enjoining the perfect perform ance
p f norm al duties on the part o f a seer.
Though the chief emphasis o f the Vaiseshika and N ÿâya systems o f thought
m ay ordinarily appe&r to be placed elsewhere, yet keener analysis w ould show
that in their.case also the ultimate aim is fundamentally the same— the attain
ment o f salvation through m oral perfection. A large number o f sub-schools
associated with various religious sects developed in India through a form o f
eclectic admixture o f Vedânta, Sânkhya, and Y o g a together with the Bhâga-
vata theory o f lovei But in all these systems the central idea is the same,' the
attainment o f transcendent m oral perfection and o f the perfect social be
haviour induced by it.
Philosophy
There is another vein o f thought which runs through Jndian minds, prob
ably from pre-Buddhistic times, and which m ay be regarded as being in some
sense a corollary and in another sense a supplement to the attitude and per
spective o f life described above. This attitude consists in the lowering o f em
phasis on one’s limited self-sense as egoism or selfishness, in the consequent
experience o f equality with all men, and in the developm ent o f a spirit o flo y e
.towards them and towards G od, w ho manifests him self in the persons o f all
men. The cultivation o f love o f hum anity was one o f the dom inant characteris
tics not only o f the Gita and Buddhism and Jainism, bu t also o f Y o g a and
most systems o f Indian theism, such as those o f Ràm ânuja, M adhva, Nim-
bàrka, and others. T h e Vishnu-Purâna says that to look upon all beings as
equal to one’ s self and to love them all as one w ould love one’ s own self is the
service o f G o d ; for G od has incarnated him self in the form o f all living beings.
T h e Christian principle o flo v e and equality is anticipated in-Buddhism and
Bhàgavatism , which flourished in India long before Christ; b u t the force o f
innate sin is not emphasized as it is in traditional Western Christianity.
Limitations o f space forbid me to enter into the various logical concepts
and philosophical creeds, criticisms o f thought, and dialectic developed in the
semi-lògical and logical epochs o f the evolution o f the history o f philosophy in
India, which could be demonstrated as anticipating sim ilar doctrines and
m odes o f thought in medieval and modern philosophy. Philosophy developed
in India continuously for about 3,000 years over a wide tract o f the country,
and a large part o f it still remains unexplored and unexplained in any modern
language. A careful reader o f Indian philosophy w h o is fully acquainted with
Western philosophy is naturally agreeably surprised to see how philosophic
minds everywhere haye traversed m ore or less the same path and how the same
philosophical concepts which developed in later times in E urope were so
closely anticipated in India. But it is impossible to dilate on this here. M y
chief effort in this chapter has been to show the Indian conception o f the bear
ing o f philosophy to life, w hich has been alm ost uniform ly the same in almost
all systems o f Indian philosophy and which has always inspired all philosophy
and all religion. T hat philosophy should not remain merely a theoretic science,
but should m ould our entire personality and should drive us through the hard
struggles o f m oral and spiritual strife on the onward path o f self-realization
and should ultimately bring us back again to the level o f other men and make
us share the common duties o f social life in a perfected form and bind us with
ties o f sympathy and Jove to all humanity— this is the final wisdom o f Indian
thought.
CH A P TE R XI
Modern Indian law will determine certain rules, especially in relation to the
regime o f the family, upon the basis o f how the loin-cloth is lied, or how the
turban is worn, fo r this m ay identify the litigants as members o f a regional
group, and therefore as participants in its traditional law, though their an
cestors left the region three or four centuries- earlier. T he use o f the word
‘ state’ above must not mislead us. There was no such thing as a conflict
between thé individual and the state, at least before foreign governments be
came established, ju st as there was no concept o f state ‘ sovereignty’ or o f any
church-and-state dichotom y. Modern Indian ‘ secularism ’ has an admittedly
peculiar feature: it requires the state to make a fair distribution o f attention
and support amongst all religions. These blessed aspects o f India’s famed
tolerance (Indian kings so rarely persecuted religious groups that the excep
tions preve-the rule) at once struck Portuguese and other European visitors to
the west coast o fln d ia in the sixteenth century, and the impression made upon
them in this and other ways gave rise, at one remove, to the basic constitution
o f Thomas M ore’s Utopia.1 There is little about modern India that strikes one
at once as U topian: but the insistence upon the inculcation o f norms, and the
absence o f bigotry and institutionalized exploitation o f human or natural re
sources, are tw o very different features which link the realities o f India and
her tradition with the essence o f all Utopias.
Part o f the explanation for India’s special social quality, its manifest
virtues and compensating shortcomings, lies not in any prudent decisions by
any men or groups o f men, but in the traditional concept o f the society jn
which prajâ (the subjects) and râjâ (the ruler) were the two principal elements,
one might say, polarities; and part again lies in the fact that, though the ruler
was a guardian o f morals, the ‘ cause’ , as it was put, ‘ o f the age’ , the power o f
penance was immeasurably more vigorous than any service the state could
perform— even granted the fact that the prerogative o f corporal or capital
punishment (danda) served also as a penance for the guilty, and granted, too,
that it was in theory one o f the king’s tasks to see to it that penances were
actually performed. Ideals were expressed in terms o f ethics, and are related,
some to people in general, and some, more specialized, to the principal classes,
in particular the brahmans, whose inherited religious and m agical powers,
and responsibility for the spiritual and even material welfare o f the state-,
marked them out for respectful treatment, financial patronage, and, if they
were suitably conscientious, cramping taboos. Special ideals were naturally
developed for the râjâ, the key figure in leadership, whether he was a head o f a
clan, or- an emperor.
Th e ‘ twice-born’ , to w hom we shall return, reached, according to M anu
(vi. 92), supersensory bliss by obeying a tenfold ‘ la w ’, which was a mixture o f
moral and intellectual requirements. H ârita,3 w ho goes into greater detail,
gives the constituents o f iila (good conduct) as ‘ piety, devotion to gods and
ancestors, mildness, avoidance o f giving-pain, absence o f envy, sweetness,
. * J. D :'M .T > e r r e tt, ‘ T h o m a s M o r e a n d J o se p h u s th e In d ia n ’ ,J R A S , A p r . 196 2, p p . 18 -3 4 .
T h e to p ic is p u rs u e d b y th e s a m e a t ‘ M o r e ’ s Utopia a n d I n d ia n s in E u r o p e ’ , Moreana
(A n g e rs ), j ( j 9 65), 1 7 - 1 8 ; * M o r e ’s Utopia a n d G y m n o s o p h y ’, Bib!. Hum. Renaiss. (G e n e v a ),
*7 ( i 9 d j) . d o a - J ; ‘ T h e U to p ia n A lp h a b e t’, Moreana, 12 (1 9 6 6 ), 6 1 - 4 .
1 C ite d b y K u l lü k a c o m m e n tin g on M a n u ii. 6. M a n u h im s e lf m a y b e s tu d ie d c o n v e n ie n tly
in th e tra n s la tio n o f G . B ilh le r, Sacred Books o f the Hast, V o l. 25, 1886.
126 Social and Political Thought and Institutions
o f his dependants, and victorious over the organs o f sense.7 W c find through
out that the most reprehensible misdeeds are theft and adultery, and a com
mentary on Indian ethics could be woven on these items alone. Insistence that
women must not be exposed to even a nominal risk o f unchastity, the require
ment that marriage should subserve the fam ily’s interest and not prim arily
that o f the spouses, and the disfavour in which anything resembling ‘ court
in g ’ before marriage is held, have developed an attitude towards women, and
a level o f expectation on the. part o f women themselves, w hich set special
limits to Indian social behaviour and give a peculiar quality to Indian life.
Concern fo r the chastity o f their wom enfolk has, at least in the last millen
nium, been at the summit o f every Indian fam ily’s prime concerns, and when
hatred boiled over, the females were the immediate targets. Obedience to
rulers, as such, we do not find am ongst the typical virtues: but it is inculcated
elsewhere. A voidance o f sin and social disgrace was a prim ary obligation,
while duty to the ruler was secondary and dependent upon the first, for the
ruler’s function was to facilitate such avoidance. Respect for the caste-system
is implicit in the scheme outlined. ‘ H onestly earned w ealth ’, 'reprehensible
occupations’ are terms referring to an established, if theoretical, apportion
ment o f activities am ongst the castes ( ja t i) . T o search for social and political
ideals anterior to the caste-system would be fruitless.
N o Indian ideal could be inconsistent with dharma, ‘ righteousness’ . T his
word tends to bring cosm ology down into touch with the mundane details o f
private law .8 One who follows his dharma is in harm ony, and attains bliss,
though it remains doubtful how far his contem poraries’ behaviour should
guide him in his understanding o f his dharma. W ithout dharma, in however
etiolated a form , fertility, peace, civilized life are considered to be im perilled.
Dharma is in one sense natural, in that it is not created or determined (though
in practice in obscure cases its exponents determine w hat its sense is), and in
another it is always to be striven for. Dharma is unnatural in that to achieve it
one must put forth uncongenial efforts o f self-control, irrespective o f popular
reaction^ I f dharma (as contrasted with positive legislation) only in part re
sembles natural law it is nevertheless a code o f m oral obligations to which the
uninstructed nations (mleccjtas), innocent o f bràhm anical learning, cannot
attain. Dharma, indeed, means duty (kartavyatâ), and the study o f dharma in
volves a discovery o f the duties o f individuals, groups, and, am ong them,
their political leaders. F o r dharma, in the sense w hich predominates in politi
cal theory, is an abstraction o f sva-dharma, the ‘ own dharma’ o f each caste
and category o f person. A s D . H. H. Ingalls, the Harvard scholar, has neatly
put it, the ‘ essentially isolationist society’ recognized a religious sanction be
hind an infinite variety o f personal laws. Perhaps the categorization and
tendency to division was overdone in the writings, but th e ya re faithful to the
essential character o f that society. N om inate the m an, state his age, caste, and
status, and one can be told what his dharma is. H e deviates from it at his peril,
his spiritual peril in any case, his physical or financial peril too if the king is
as alert to deviations as he ought to be. But this is not to suggest that dharma
7 R . W illia m s , Jaina Yoga, 1963. C f . M a n u x ii. 2 - 1 0 .
4 T h e le g a l s y s te m b a sed o n dharma liv e s o n in a s p ir itu a l sen se , b u t its a p p lic a tio n in
litig a tio n c e a s e d in I n d ia b y v ir tu e o f th e a c ts c o n s titu tin g th e ‘ H in d u C o d e * (1 9 5 5 - 6 ) .
128 Social and Political Thought and Institutions
was a ‘ natural law ’ in the European sense: the ruler’s conduct could not be
tested by reference to dharma and invalidated thereby, and, though it justified,
it could not delimit his administrative authority.
Adharma (unrighteousness) is the forerunner o f chaos. M an has a natural
tendency to decline into chaos. In one myth chaos required the invention o f
kingship and the appointment o f a semi-divine king. Dharma and kingship
are thus inseparable. Dharma derives linguistically from a root m eaning ‘ to
h o ld ’ . A loose hold is no hold. Dharmas vary according to the person’s varna
(his ‘ q u ality ’, class, or ‘ caste’) and his dirama (stage o f life, or status). Vdrna
was acquired by birth (a principle nowadays under attack), dirama was
optional, though the fam ily lost prestige if the samskdras or sacramental
ceremonies were neglected by which entry into the essential stages was pre
pared for and celebrated. E very dharma had the king as its protector; and law
could not, as a set o f practical requirements, effectively demand anything that
was not at the same time m orally and legally binding.9 Unrighteous govern
ment, illustrated by the fall o f the mythical king.Vena, is understood, but the
point o f the myth is that miracles are needed to dissolve the obligation o f
obedience. Texts evidencing the theory that a wicked king could be put to
death by his subjects10 are rare and uncharacteristic. Varndsrama-dharma is
nom inally encyclopedic, com prehensive; laying the king, noble, commoner,
citizen, and peasant under an apparently equal burden o f obligation to a com
mon com plex ideal. I f the subjects rebelled they did so because the king’s duty
to protect their dharmas was being neglected, and because his own life, con
flicting with dharma, prejudiced their welfare from a religious point o f view.
C haos could be forestalled by rebellion, but our texts do nothing either to
encourage or to justify such an attitude. The effort concentrates on m aking
the reigning king a success.
Som e illustrations o f dharma’s ‘ hold’ are needed or we cannot grasp what
was expected o f the king. T h e varna o f the brâhman would limit his freedom
to associate, to mate, to dine; it seeks to number the occupations he m ay pur
sue— to study, to teach, to officiate at religious ceremonies (including the
samskdras), and to advise and, if necessary, to chide rulers. T o trade ^ speci
ally in certain goods) and especially to lend at interest are forbidden, except in
limes o f distress. A nd the brahm an’s dharma demands at least a minimum o f
classical education. The varna o f the sudra, at the other end o f the scale o f
‘ clean ’ castes, also delimits. N o t being one o f the twice-born, as are the
brâhman and those w ho intervene between them, he does not study the Veda,
and does not take the sacred thread which indicates initiation; nor m ay he
teach V edic studies or have social intercourse with the twice-born except upon
the footing o f service, whether in the house, the workshop, or the field. Ideally
his very name should suggest a humble status and the higher castes are en
titled to his labour— an ideal which, needless to say, the most numerous
varna from time to time repudiated. W e hear, accordingly, o f ‘ good südras’
w ho were supposed to be degraded twice-born and generally copied the latter
in their behaviour. Between brahman and südra were ranked the warrior
(kshatriya) and mercantile (vaisya) classes, upon a theoretical basis explained
in terms o f their objective qualities and tendencies. Anom alies abounded
from the first and we meet the theory o f ‘ mixed castes’, sprung from unions
between the four varnas. Distribution o f functions between the varnas and the
mixed castes was often in debate, both historically and throughout our
literature.
The brahman’s ancient hereditary function as a teacher (guru) o f the other
castes is not dead. T o this day brâhmans are from time to time approached to
resolve problems and act as ‘ confessors’ by other castes; and a careful an
thropological survey o f a remote village in M adhya Pradesh, the abode for
several centuries equally o f brâhmans and non-brâhmans, both occupied in
agriculture, revealed the strange fact that when the econom y suddenly
changed, due to improvements in communications and markets, a large num
ber o f the brahmans, but not o f the other classes, took to teaching and other
intellectual pursuits. Students o f Western medieval literature know o f the
‘ gymnosophists’ whom Alexander the Great and his companions found in
northern India. These made an impression on the Greeks and earned a not
able place for the ascetics in the Alexander romance and its m any derivative
contributions to Western culture. T hey spoke fearlessly to kings, telling them
their dharma, and their status as teachers (they were ostentatiously naked) de
pended on their utter indifference to the world and contempt for death. T he
Jewish heroes o f M asada, before committing suicide, as the Rom ans scaled
the last wall, reminded themselves that they must not be inferior in faith to the
poor Indians (whom they believed to be polytheists at that)."
The ideals o f the dharma-sâstra, the ‘ science’ , or rather ‘ teaching’ o f
righteousness, proceeded far beyond these classifications. M arriage was a
prime concern. M arriage between varnas was lawful provided that it was in
the hypergamous form, the husband having the higher caste. The ideal mar
riage for a brahman was in the form o f a gift o f the bride, along with her
dowry, to the bridegroom summoned for the purpose; that for the kshatriya
was by capture or in the love-match which, to the minds o f som e'm oralists,
masked too often a mere seduction; while marriage by purchase, deprecated
as barely suited to thv furtherance o f dltarma, was left to the südras. Ideals out
lived facts, .both in marriage and in occupations. Brâhmans are found func
tioning as money-lenders or soldiers; südras are actually found occupying
thrones (an eventuality pathetically deplored in m any texts). Intercourse with
a woman other than one’s wife was a sin; yet the keeping o f concubines per
sisted (never, though, to the total exclusion o f marriage) amongst well-to-do
classes until very recent times.
The dharmas o f a Vedic student (brahmacâri) were naturally not relevant to
a südra youth. The principal cisrama o f the grihastha (householder), the
11 Jo se p h u s, Betlum ludaicum, v ii. 3 4 1 - 5 7 . Y . Y a d in , Masada, L o n d o n , 1966, p . 226.
130 Social and Political Thought and Institutions
dirama upon which in practice all the others depended, was reached by all
varnas ideally at marriage, which should be celebrated soon after the com ple
tion o f a young man’s academic training (if any) and would signalize his entry
into full social responsibility. M arriage was the one dirama which was nearly
obligatory. Religious and social pressure made it virtually unavoidable. P ro
creation o f at least one son was recommendéd, and better o f two, so that at
least one might go to G ayâ and perform the efficacious irdddha there which
would secure perpetual bliss for deceased ancestors. I f an aurasa (legitimate)
son could not be expected, the mature m ale ought to provide him self and his
paternal ancestors with a substitute by one o f the approved methods o f adop
tion. Spiritual responsibility towards the ancestors and the right to inherit
their property were ideally inseparable.
N o survey o f the social order can neglect the slaves, for whom, as a social
class, curiously, the varndsrama-dharma (which calls them biped chatteJs)
makes little or no room, satisfied, we note, to provide that a brahman could
not be enslaved unless he lapsed from the status o f sannydsi, or renunciate.
This, the last dirama, was in theory available to every former householder
who chose to retire from the world, but in practice it became a title to live on
charity, from which, naturally, only a lunatic would be likely to defect.
Slaves were not, in the ideal view, a division o f society, though they were a
fact. In the status and fate o f slaves, especially the ‘ b orn ’ slave, some would
see a dark feature o f Indian social ethics.11 Y e t even an extreme example o f
their situation has its dharmic aspect. A young female orphan, selling herself
into slavery in return for her keep, would acknowledge that if she committed
suicide as a result o f her keeper’s chastisement she would commit a dreadful
sip.13 O n the footing that it is a charity to buy children as slaves in times o f
famine, the residual right to commit, or to threaten to commit, suicide
seemed properly subject to limitation by contract.
T h e politically most significant branch o f dharma, to which we shall devote
attention, was that relating to the râjâ. Preferably a kshatiiya, his dharma
could be summarized as ‘ to conquer and to protect’ . T o fix him with his re
sponsibilities there must be a state. This existed (and could survive) when,
according to traditional theory, there existed each o f the seven constituents,
the so-called saptdnga, o f that organism. These were the king himself, a
minister o f official class, a capital city, a rural area or inhabited tract, a
treasury or revenue administration, an arm y, and at least one foreign ally. It
was recognized that since all are constituents o f the state no one could be
aggrandized at the expense o f others without endangering the organism. M en
tion o f the state calls into play the two sciences o f dharma and artha. The last
word means politics and economics, and K autilya’s Arthaidstra is in fact the
sole substantial treatise on the art o f public administration.14 The passages
dealing with the king’s duties and powers in the smritis o f M anu and Yâjna-
valkya, for example, were influenced by artha-sdstra learning. Wherever the
two sciences conflicted the ruler was expected to follow righteousness rather
than politics, and the cunning inculcated by the latter was supposed to be at
the disposal o f the former.
1 Politics, sarcastically called the khattaoijjà, or ‘ kshatriyas’ science’ , i.e. un
restrained opportunism, by the Buddhist writers, subsumed a minimum o f
^righteousness in any scheme upon the basis that the end justifies the means.
iThe ideal and the righteous king is insistently overdrawn in our sources, a fact
telling its own story. It is claimed that, however kings came to exist as pheno
mena (a question to which we return), the function o f a king is divinely pre
determined. ‘ The kshatriya he (the Creator) com m anded’ , says M an u ,1* ‘ to
protect the people, to bestow gifts, to offer sacrifices, to study the Vedas, and
to abstain from attaching himself to sensual pleasures.’ The last has a com ical
sound, for to frame a negative precept as if it were a positive one betrays the
historical state o f affairs rather plainly.
For the king’s role an education o f some intensity was recommended, and
no doubt required. ‘ Command o f armies, royal authority, the office o f a
judge, and sovereignty over the whole world he alone deserves who knows the
Veda science’, says Manu elsewhere.16 ‘ Let him act with justice in his own
•domains— Punishment (danda) strikes down a king who swerves from his
•duty— with rigour chastise his enemies, behave without duplicity towards his
•friends, and be lenient towards brahmans.’ The duties o f a king are to protect
the good like a father and to put down evil-doers with rigour. T h e fourteen
‘ faults’ in a king which the epics point to are these: atheism, falsehood, hot
temper, carelessness, procrastination, not seeing the wise, laziness, addiction
to the five pleasures o f the senses, considering state matters by him self (with
out consulting competent ministers), taking counsel with those who do not
know politics, not commencing that which is decided upon, not keeping slate
secrets, not practising auspicious acts, and taking up undertakings in all
directions at once.
In order to uphold dharma a bureaucracy was required, whose function
aries were suspected o f corruption, for, as K au tilya puts it, who can tell
whether fish in water are drinking? A plenitude o f regal power was called for,
• and obedience to the king’s orders was imperative, whether or not they were
capricious (as the Jâtaka tales would have us believe they frequently were). T o
complain even after obeying seems not to have been contemplated. ‘ T h e un
righteous man who does not obey the laws promulgated by the king, shall be
punished and even put to death. . . .’ ‘ Whatever a king does for the protection
o f his subjects, by right o f his kingly power, and for the best o f mankind, is
v a lid .. . . ’ ‘ A s a husband should always be respected by his wives . . . a
monarch should always be respected by his subjects, even though he be a bad
ruler.’ ‘ It is through devotion (or austerities in previous lives) that kings have
acquired their subjects; therefore the king is lord; the subjects o f a king must
obey his commandments, and (as if from a father) they derive their substance
from him .’ 17
The king was surrounded with pom p and demonstrated conspicuous con
sumption. His consecration symbolized the dependence o f the state fo r its
crops and cattle upon the king’s existence and attributes. Fertility, power,
“ i 89. ,4 x ii. 100. 17 T h e s e p a ssa g e s a re ta k e n fr o m N â r a d a ’s p r o tfr/ ia iro s e c tio n .
132 Social and Political Thought and Institutions
success were typified by the râja, and a large share (ideally one sixth) o f the
produce o f the lands (except those o f brahmans and deities) and o f every pro
ductive occupation was not begrudged to him. Unproductive persons such as
ascetics shared with their king their spiritual merit. He was like eight deities
himself, and to some thinkers he appeared to have been created out o f their
attributes. He should shower benefits like Indra who showers rain (Indra and
the king are often equated in the texts); he should extract taxes as the sun
sucks up moisture; he is to penetrate everywhere with his spies like.the wind;
with the rod o f chastisement {dando) he is to control all his subjects as Yam a,
the deity o f death, subdues all in the end; he must punish the wicked as
Yaruna binds sinners with his rope; he is to gladden his subjects by shining
upon them as the full moon gladdens men; he is to visit criminals with his
anger and destroy wicked subordinates as fire burns all; and he is-to support
his subjects as the earth supports all creatures.18
Dharma upheld the king with the aid o f superstitious symbolism, but its
requirements from him were very practical and detailed. T he râjâ was viewed
as the apex o f a broad-based pyramid o f authority, judicial and administra
tive. A fam ily’s patriarch, with recognized powers o f coercion, ruled his
household according to the ideals which we have reviewed. I f he failed, rela
tions would attempt to coerce him. There might be some debate whether
custom permitted his acts. Social and moral misdeeds, and m any crimes be
sides, were dealt with by a similar machinery. A father might fine his wives
and servants, and, where delay in bringing the Crime to the notice o f an official
might result in a failure o f justice, a husband was authorized to slay an
adulterer.1’ A fiction o f delegated authority left the men on the spot with a large
responsibility fo r keeping the peace, suppressing crime, and compensating in
jured persons. There can be no doubt but that the stifling atmosphere o f the
.smaller o f the extended families out o f which Hindu society was made up
created many personal problems which remained quite unknown, until a
dram atic explosion (such as a daughter-in-law’s suicide) drew public attention
to latent evils.
In pre-classical times the râjâ led in war and administered criminal justice;
the danda was wielded to repel invaders, (o acquire territory, and to execute
or mutilate criminals. T he notion that he was the fountain o f all human
justice came later, and until modern times the distinction persisted between
the military and police power on the one hand and jurisprudence and the
sâstric learning o f the brâhmans (rather than professional administrators as
such) on the other. Regulations, therefore, proposing to coerce an erring
father would rely upon what corresponded to public opinion. I f a compromise
was impossible an eccentric could be brought under the ban o f the village, the
district, and eventually the state, which, slow to awaken and usually keen to
delegate responsibility to local officials, was dreadful when aroused.
T he maintenance o f discipline therefore began in the home, and if that
failed, higher forces, summoned ad hoc, could be brought to bear. The books
speak o f pitga, sreni, and gana tribunals, and these antiquated names refer,
inter alia, to local, lay courts. T he books suggest that the members should be
18 G h o s h a l, History o f Indian Political Ideas, p p . 164, 273.
19 V ijflà n cS va ra o d Y â jn . fi. 286.
Social and Political Thought and Institutions 133
impartial. The notion o f itts stridimi was totally absent. T he aim, even today,
outside the regular courts, is to effect reconciliation.20 N ot even the king de
sired to blind justice, come what might. Dharma, as a guide to the solution o f
-disputes, had a built-in equity. W hat was abhorred by the public could not be
dharma. Rule-of-thumb decisions were avoided and mutual adjustment was
■favoured even at the cost o f repeated adjournments, a fact w hich the theory o f
the sdstric tests, however, by no means brings out. These envisage an ideal
court and ideal conditions for discovering the truth, and then a flexible legal
’system fit to cope with it. M any o f the legal rules o f the dharma-sdstra seem
’ vague, or frankly provide the judge with alternatives; the bald prescription o f
2harsh punishment for offenders masks a system in which much wrongdoing
was accounted for by groups interacting in an extra-legal manner.
Securing property-rights, repressing deviations from caste regulations, the
king and his deputies were engaged for much o f their time with actual or
-imaginary complaints against transgressions o f the social order. Blessings
awaited the king who so occupied himself. Instances might be a projected
marriage between jâtis not yet regarded as socially equal; a claim that a
'm arket price had been fixed unconscionably high; a claim that a sect should
have an endowment com parable with that granted to rival sects; or a com
plaint that a caste had in a public meeting determined to assume an arrogant
1title. In all hearings which were judicial an ancient maxim came into play, that
•the four feet o f vyavahâra (litigation) were dharma, vyavahâra (court practice),
charilra (custom), and râja-sàsana (royal decree). T h e latter in order overruled
the former, a principle which speaks for itself. These were originally sources o f
law, but the notion that the king could not overrule dharma, in its trans
cendental sense, grew as time went on, and medieval commentators and even
some late smriti sources saw the maxim as referring to methods o f proof, and
twisted the words accordingly.
In keeping order at home, forestalling attacks from abroad, planning
attacks upon neighbouring kings, and finding his own level within the man
dala, or circle o f rulers amongst whom tbe theory o f statecraft found his
natural allies and opponents, assistance was available to the king from various
quarters. Trained personnel abounded in the corps o f officiais. Their titles do
not much interest us. The departments o f state, headed by that o f the purohila
or family priest o f the râjâ, included those responsible for war and peace,
•the treasury, the elephant corps, registry and archives, Forts, markets, and
prostitutes (an important source o f royal income). There was a mantn-
parishad, or council o f ministers, to whom the king might have recourse. P ro
motion to such a council was within his gift, but unfortunately removal from
it was nearly impossible. The ideals o f unquestioning loyalty to a righteous
king and his family produced ministerial houses with hereditary ties to the
sovereign. Such ministers were set up with fiefs in lieu o f salary, they took no
oaths o f loyalty, and there were no reciprocal agreements; thus they could
become troublesome subordinates, feudatories (without a true feudal system)
capable o f becoming kings in their turn. According to the recommendations
o f the texts on statecraft these ministers were to be selected for their know
ledge, abilities, and character, and were to be tested by agents provocateurs',
but there was nothing but loyalty to prevent their intriguing with junior mem
bers o f the royal family, and even offering their support to a foreign king. The
king was obliged to consult ministers, especially those holding prestige, but he
was never bound by their advice; responsibility for unpopular acts was there
fore entirely his, and, as we have seen, the possibility o f deposition was never
entirely lost sight of.21 T he position o f the hereditary minister was more com
fortable than that o f the king, for all the books’ recommendation that .he
should be constantly spied upon: even a righteous king is warned by these
same books to be ever on the alert a.nd to trust no one. A n unsuccessful
traitor, had, however, a great deal to lose, for the king’ s revenge would de
stroy him, family, dependants, and all.
T h e administration o f justice, to which we have already alluded, was ideally
the task o f kshatriya judges advised by brahman assessors; thé b ooks'îay
down the qualifications o f the sabhdsad (judicial assessor), which are admir
able by any standard. But in the villages all decisions would be taken by
village councils; the villager would be bound by them because dhartnq re
quired compliance w ith an agreement to .which he was theoretically a party,21
even if (as in the case o f an untouchable) he had no right, o f speech at.the
meeting, and even i f his opinion failed to win the general acceptance Which
always did duty for majority vote. The villager was theoretically present in his
village parliament, and the râjâ, his far-away ‘ father’, was related by less
tangible i f definite religious ties. The râjâ, not surprisingly, was required by
the sâstras to take the local decisions seriously, and i f they affected custom to
inquire into and register them. The king’ s own orders, the sdsanas referred to
above, were likewise recorded and put up in archives for future reference/
I f the village could enact by-laws and the king promulgate regulations by
decree it would seem to follow that the society was progressive, m oulding its
laws and constitution to meet developments. On the contrary some observers
emphasize the static nature o f both. It was at one time supposed that dharma
could disallow positive legislation, but this view has no foundation. Decrees
emanating from the palace are actually contemplated by the dhàrma-sâstra
itself. ‘ These goods shall not be exported’ and ‘ Anim als shall not be slaugh
tered on these d ays’ are examples. The artha-sdstra actually authorizes the
aggressor to combine tactics, noble and ignoble, and the conflict between the
transcendental and the expedient ends, with a distinct advantage to enligh
tened expediency. From successful treachery the king can purify him self by
penance; by a failure in diplom acy he m ay lose his kingdom and inflict chaos
upon his former subjects. In a war, or with reference to a projected war, the
dharma-idstra itself did not purport to chart the king’s fiscal and administr
ative powers.
Dharma had thus an isolated existence o f its own. It was not adjustable to
suit opinions and occasions. W e should look into its origins and relations
with secular law more closely. In matters o f detail, where the established ideals
11 M a n u v ii. 1 1 1 - 1 2 . .
11 M a n u viii. 219 . S ee D e rre tt, Religion, Law ami i/ie Stale in Initia, L o n d o n , 1968, C h . 6.
Social and Political Thought and Institutions J35
were not clear guides, the sâstra must needs follow custom.*3 A s customs so
recorded became antiquated the sâstrïs, or teachers, felt authorized to pass
over many o f the smritis, i.e. the immemorial maxims or oracular statements,
,-which had accompanied the inspired philosophical and ethical material that
•made the greater dharma-sâstras, in particular that attributed to M anu, such
■splendid vehicles for law. Alternatively, they would interpret them if they re
gained them, in ways which would save their validity whilst insinuating a m ore
icontemporary meaning,*4 What, was dharma was enunciated by the teachers,
snot-the books, a jealously and successfully guarded privilege. M anu tells us
;that a committee o f ten, o f three, or, i f need be, only one brâhman, properly
.qualified in point o f character and learning, can give an authoritative and
[binding decision on a point o f law, whether ritual or spiritual, or on ju d icial
«matters.*5 N o appeal from such a decision is contemplated, though evidently
the royal court acted as a supreme court o f revision, where the best-qualified
rpandits could give a ‘ final’ reading o f the sâstra to meet the case. T he state as
;such could not redefine dharma in any context. A custom, properly estab
lish ed , or a genuine iâsana might authorize a departure from dharma in a
particular class o f cases or a particular litigation, but then only if the court’s
atten tion was drawn to the former, and then without any bearing on the
^spiritual aspects o f the question, in respect o f which what was both ‘ righ t’ and
M-law’ was immutable. Legislation by consent o f the people did not exist, and
: the provision, which we have seen, that what the public abhorred could not be
jlaw, was o f merely temporary and conditional effect. The dharma-sâstra from
fits very beginnings must have presupposed professional interpreters and a
^governmental machinery lacking jurisdiction to make more than ad hoc in-
jroads upon it. This in turn presupposes a multiple, if ‘ isolationist’ society, far
jfrom the tribe or clan. W hat was best had been discovered by ancestors long
A g o , w ho had obtained it evidently from revelation; their insigiht and ex
perience sufficed for their descendants; and it was thought that scholarship
ïShould be devoted to collating, systematizing, and rationalizing what had sur
v iv e d from the supposed corpus o f injunctions. D ebate was confined to the
^question whether current versions correctly appraised what the past had
jachieved..
Such a theory o f society and its government left no room for progress in
jany modern sense. On the contrary the contem porary state o f society was
Attributed to an inevitable decline, by stages, from a golden age. Apparently
^progressive’ rules, such as that a girl could obtain an annulment o f her
jparriage with an impotent man, preserved in ancient smritis, were held by
sifie time o f the Smriti-chandrika, a thirteenth-century encyclopedia o f law , to
||elong to previous ages, and to be unavailable for the author’s own period.
fjjÇhe seemingly socialistic Directive Principles o f the current Constitution o f
lliidia would have astonished men o f that age. K au tilya him self nowhere
|SUggests that the resources o f a region should be exploited to their utm ost in
f?'
g ï f * N . C . S e n - G u p ta , Evolution o f Ancient Indian Law, 1 9 5 3 , e sp . p p . 3 2 9 -3 5 . S e e a ls o
L in g a t, The Classical Law o f India, B e r k e le y , C a i,, 1972, p t . 2, c h . 2.
3?j- *4 O n th e r o le o f th e ju r is t see Études. . .Jean Macqtieron, A ix - e n - P r o v e n c e , 19 7 0 ,
1p p . 2 1 5 - 1 4 ; D i r r e l t , DharmaSastrn and Juridical Literature, W ie s b a d e n , 19 7 3 , p p . 3, 52, 53.
• 25 xii. i to, 113.
136 Social and Political Thought and Institutions
the national interest, or that individuals should employ their earning power or
their talents to their utmost limits. That the king should squeeze the peasantry
to the limits o f their capacity for regular payment was indeed recommended,
but that was another matter. T h e principles o f royal m onopoly in numerous
objects o f production, and the regulation o f market prices to avoid undue
com petition, Indicate that the attainment o f a balance was much more the
object o f policy than any adventure into the unknown. Individuals.carried
w eight according to their membership o f a group, and no group was indepen
dent. Hoarding, for example, was the function o f merchant groups, who might
live very economically, and to appropriate their hoards at his discretion, and
so put the coins back into circulation, was a right o f the râjâ. In turn the râjâ
admitted responsibility for the occasional unfortunate (provided he was not
an outcastc) who found liim self or herself without support, and the râjâ was
the channel through which groups maintained their balance and those with
out groups to defend them were themselves protected.
U n duly successful claims upon the râjâ for increasing the power or privi
leges o f one group would drive the others into the hands o f a rival for the
throne. Since stability justified the state, the king was, as the sâstras intermin
ably insist, bound to practise restraint, not least in forwarding those whom he
favoured, for it was all too simple to exchange one râjâ for another. We hear
o f puppet râjâs whose seals authenticated their hereditary ministers’ acts, and
o f conspiracies between notables which terminated in their favourite’s being
offered the crow n.26 U ltim ately the system aimed at maximizing the spiritual
capacity o f the individual as a member o f a contented household, unambitious,
protected from envy and unduly efficient competition, content with lawful
acquisition, and relying upon the state for opportunities to put the good
things o f this world to the service o f candidature for higher things in the uext.
The entire responsibility for this prospect lay upon the king, a figure who has
obtained less sympathy than he deserved.
T h e machinery o f government was well suited to its limited aim. T he râjâ
rested immune from unseen harm and his enemies’ attacks if his subjects’
welfare was secure, if castes kept to their functions, sages practised austeri
ties, sacrifices were properly performed, nobles and leisured people roamed
about gaily clad, merchants accumulated infinite wealth, and the toiling multi
tudes abstained from protest at the inequalities o f life.27 A n arm y o f spies in
form ed him o f maladjustments and plots. Which o f the three conventional
‘ p ow ers’ o f the king was the most essential, his strength o f counsel, his
material resources, or his personal energy? W e have seen what were his con
ventional ‘ faults’. He needed each o f these powers to perform his functions.
Th e petty râjâ needed neither elaborate espionage nor bureaucracy. H e had
his parishad or council, as later more extensive kingdoms relied on their sabha
or samiti, the assembly that represented local populations. In Vedic times the
clan assembly advised the king on peace or war. Then women might actually
14 G o p â la , th e fo u n d e r o f (h e P a ia D y n a s ty , an d (h e P a! la v a P a r a m e s v a r a v a r m a n I I are
illu s tra tio n s . D e r r e t t, ‘ H in d u E m p ire s ’, Recueils de ta Société Jean Bodin, 31 (1 9 7 3 ). 56 5 -9 6 .
” T h e r e is a te llin g q u o ta tio n to a s im ila r e ffect fro m Mahnbhârata x ii. 7 8 . 9 - 1 7 by
D . H . H . In g a lls , in 'A u t h o r i t y a n d L a w in A n c ie n t I n d ia ’ , in Authority and Law in the
Ancient Orient, s u p p l. N o . 1 7 , J A O S (195.4).
Sod ai and Political Thought and Institutions 137
Brahm a to supply them with a king. Both these theories are found in the
Mahâbhârata. True, in Buddhist writings we have reference to the mythical
king Mahâsammata, whose very name suggests com pact, who, in keeping
with the then fashion to place kshatriyas above brahmans, was appointed by
consent o f a public whose growing lawlessness required the kshatriya vanta for
their protection. But there is no suggestion, even in the Buddhist tradition,
that the king’s duties are fixed by the public, that it can interfere with his day-
to-day business, or that any part o f the public, such as the nobles, has a right
to preferential treatment from him. T he amalgamation o f the ideas that a king
m ust ‘ please’ (ranjayati), and that bis function exists by divine provision,
ideas hardly reconcilable, shows that the themes were available for use as
occasion demanded.
Y e t no king could have functioned without the agreement o f the people,
ill organized as they were for expression o f disagreement with him. Similarly,
the religious aspect o f kingship, admitted by all shades o f opinion, was so
pervasive that any state must have had someone able to contain it, and unlike
some ancient societies India kept the religious and the political headship in
the same person. In protecting dharma, and relieving or forestalling distress,
the râjâ lived out a role which gave rise to both these explanations.
This leaves open the questions where power resided, and w hat was its
justification. Self-conscious in regard to aberrant customs, fruitful in ex
pression o f individual opinions and outlooks, tolerant o f curiosities o f faith
or ethic, Indian literature provides no evidence that these problems were
ever probed, and exemplifies at present (there m ay always be.a dramatic dis
covery!) no specimen o f a profound penetration into political philosophy.
Perhaps the failure is to be explained b y the lack o f conflicts to which we-re-
ferred at the head o f this chapter. T h e kingly power was a trust, as it were,
from the people; Ids religious status depended from his kingship. T he trust
was unconditional, and would have been meaningless without unbounded
discretion. The divergent images suggesting that the king had rights against
his subjects and they against him are misleading,- and the concept that dharma
reigned over all is merely uninformative. Power in fact stemmed from a state
o f affairs produced in a caste society; the state was a symptom or function of
such a state o f affairs. T o maintain equilibrium, which caste cannot dispense
with, detailed interventions in the nature o f adjustment were required. A n in
herent characteristic was assumed to have an eternal m eahing and purpose,
and on this basis restraints were rationalized. N o school o f thought could
doubt the transcendental expediency o f kingship or the utter necessity o f a
state, the leader cif which had the widest possible discretion subject only to
revolution i f the ultimate goals were prejudiced.
T h e goals themselves were a product o f the rationalizing o f that caste
society. W e have seen them in connection with the ideals, conventionally
phrased as dharma, arlha, kâma, and, ultimately, moksha, ‘ release from re
b irth ’, ‘ salvation'. The possibility o f pursuing one’s sva-dharma was the test
o f the state; the vast authority o f the râjâ was justified by this narrow require
ment alone. In modern terms this seems a high price to pay for a rather flimsy
and speculative security. But we must remember that throughout Indian his
tory until relatively recently the stoical patience o f a people expecting nothing
Social and Political Thought and Institutions 139
beyond subsistence and regarding prosperity as a tem porary and delusory
windfall moulded their goals and their requirements. By contrast, foreign
ideals, still looked down upon in many quarters, m ake room for corqfort,
liberty, planning a career, and personality in this-worldly terms as an indivi
dual. The discovery in the Arthasâstra o f recommendations which are un
ethical by Indian standards is thus to be reconciled, for without artha (material
advantage) dharma cannot be practised, nor kâma obtained, without which
mns cannot be born to worship gods and ancestors, and thus moksha itself is
jfiejeopardy. T h e need, psychologically, for moksha explained all aspects o f
ihe ancient Indian polity, in theory and in history; and with the declipe o f the
desire for moksha we now find a redefinition o f values, and a different con
ception o f the state.
M The background we have now surveyed m ay throw a welcom e light on
features o f the Indian civilization noticed elsewhere. A com bination o f râjâs
against foreign enemies or ideological opponents was hardly contemplated.
Only an emperor could organize defence against such a foe. T h e advent o f a
nèw râjâ was not feared as such, since even a foreign ruler was still a râjâ,ti
and only the notion that he would convert the subjects to a different religion
dissolved this recognition. Intrigue or com petition between groups was in
nocuous in a society whose institutions were designed to prevent aggrandize
ment by groups, let alone individuals. The supreme social category was not
the individual propelled by competitive self-interest.*» U nder the umbrella o f
the râjâ's gift o f abhaya (security) tolerance caused no strain, bigotry could
develop no inhuman aspects, enthusiasms were confined to individuals and
leant towards personal immortality. Opinions which did not deny the funda
mental requirements o f dharma could flourish. G oo d behaviour or stereotyped
attitudes were more important than opinions. H ypocrisy, self-deception,
morals confined to the groups in which they were significant, an articulant
rather than an integrated concept o f society, these fitted a state in which dog
m as had no absolute value, and there was no machinery to repress any but
those who flouted the established order.
Similarly the system bred thç notion that breaches o f caste discipline, lapses-
from virtue, were not so much the fault o f individuals as o f the state, and that
just as the king must restore the value o f a cow which was stolen and not re
covered, so he must punish adulterers; otherwise part o f the guilt attaches to
his own person. Underlying this concept is the fear (perhaps not unsupported
by experience) that the removal o f political authority turns every other man
into a thief and a fornicator. India had a respect for order, custom , institu
tions, unaccompanied by any belief that these must be justified, without
questioning the very assumption that there must be institutions. One could
argue, and people did argue, that fraternal polyandry was congruent with
dharma, but no one was so eccentric as to doubt fo r a moment that marriage
and property were possible only in civilized political life, nam ely the state.
On the other hand India admitted the individual’s right to try to leaven the
lump in which fate had placed him. Hence the great im portance o f religious
2* P a n d its r e fe r to th e E a s t In d ia C o m p a n y as rûjà in th e ir re p o r t re fe rre d to in ( 1 8 1 7 )
Morion's Mantriou 5 4 7 , 548 . '
25 V a r m a , Studies in Hindu Political Thought. . . , p . 189.
140 S odai and Political Thought and Institutions
movements. These took the place occupied in the W est by liberal movements
in which political reforms and scientific advances came together. A nother ex
planation, however, for the non-emergence in India o f a popular striving for
reform , even in the face o f gross exploitation, may be the theory, itself part
o f the system, that those who denied that the king was entitled to his revenue
(on account o f his ignoring their petitions) might properly decamp and live
elsewhere. If grumbling could not keep revenue demands within practicable
limits there was always this remedy. True, the migrants would soon be subject
to a state like that which they had abandoned, but this possibility o f migra
tion, which remained well into the nineteenth century, excused an investiga
tion o f inherent weaknesses in the system.
Freedom o f speech, provided the speech was not to the king’s face, and
freedom o f movement were accepted; likewise freedom to agitate and propa
gate theories o f an intellectual character, whether or not these had practical
implications. Freedom o f property, in the modern sense o f the term freedom,
or o f choice o f occupation and o f way o f life in a chosen environment, no one
seems ever to have desired. Freedom to choose one’s own direction seemed
synonymous with insecurity,30 with disorder and the dreaded state o f affairs
when the large fish swallow smaller fish, or, according to another explanation
o f the celebrated tnâtsya-nyâya (the maxim o f the fish),31 when people are
roasted as fish are roasted on a spit. T h e ideals o f the Indian peoples presup
posed. insecurity, from which political power rescued them. A gain st this
background one sought one’s soul’s com fort by practising personal and social
virtues; apart from that background, virtues were hardly to be aspired to. It
is o f interest that as soon as the fear o f primeval chaos was actually removed,
a taste for reform, fo f fundamental rights, and civil liberties actually made an
entrance into the Indian mind, and, so far as recent history indicates, their
continuance in India seems not unconnected with a firm intention not to re
lapse into it.
30 S p c ltm a n , Political Theory o f Ancient India, p. 99.
*' T h is m a x im m ig ra te d , lik e o th e r scra p s o f In d ia n w is d o m , a n d re c u rs in T a lm u d ic
lite ra tu re ( G . F . M o o r e , Judaism, V o l. 2, p p . 1 1 4 - 1 5 ) w h e n c e , v ia S p in o z a at th e la te s t, it
fin d s a p la c e in E u r o p e a n p o litic a l th o u g h t (S . v o n P u fe n d o rf, De lure Naturae el Gentium,
l l.ii.3 .5 ) .
C h a p t e r x ii
Science
b y H . J. J. W i n t e r
F or the study o f the history o f science in A sia the present position is one o f
hópe and anticipation. N o t many decades ago European historians, content
tb regard Islamic science as merely a Greek legacy, tended to look no further
east, whilst in respect o f India H. T . C olebrooke as an interpreter o f her science
Had stood almost alone since 1817. China remained an enigma. N o w critical
evaluations o f ancient astronomical methods by O. Neugebauer have supplied
a new background to our studies. Islamic scientific manuscripts, though rich
jri'examples o f the Greek geometrical and deductive approach, also reveal new
discoveries beyond those o f Hellenism. Further light has been shed in recent
years on the complex nature of the sciences in India through archaeological
research and the collection and examination o f additional m anuscripts.'Abovc
all, for the first time, we have a full and systematic account o f the history o f
Science in China, the monumental w ork o f Joseph N eedham .'
^ L o o k in g at the development o f science through the centuries we see an
accumulating body o f knowledge to which the races o f Asia have made their
own particular contributions by their own methods o f investigation, but we
are also confronted by a jigsaw o f transmissions which render our interpreta
tion o f these discoveries all the more difficult and uncertain. In studying the
rscience o f India2 these transmissions can only be examined at present against
a'ichronology sometimes open to dispute. Y e t in spite o f this a fascinating
■story emerges which indeed gains in interest because o f its mystery.
I
fh e earliest indigenous cultures which interest the historian o f science are
tifóse centred upon H arappâ in the Panjâb and M ohenjo-dàro in Sind, the so-
,called Indus valley civilization. In technology the prominent characteristic is
jthat o f standardization: cities built to a uniform plan resembling the layout o f
"âiychess-board and o f well-fired bricks o f a controlled size,2 and domestic
pottery turned from the wheel in specification form and capacity. These sug
gest in turn a methodical system in weights and measures. Indeed, a very large
dum ber o f weights consisting o f accurately cut cubes o f blended grey chert,
;Which are found to follow the ratios 1 :2:8 /3: 4: 8: 16: 32: 64: 160: 200: 320:
640, have been collected at various sites in the Panjâb, Sind, and south
rBalüchistân, and probably the Makran.'*
This system o f weights is unique in the ancient world. It is unfortunate that
II
The Aryan invasions o f northern India (c. 1500 B.C.) m ay be said to m ark
the end o f the Indus valley civilization. From he'nceforth the grow th o f Indian
science is to be influenced by the speculative and philosophical mind, to be
come richer in generalization, to transcend the limited technology o f Harappà,
M ohenjo-dâro, and Chanhu-dâro. In the hymns o f the Rig Veda is to be found
the first account o f the w ay o f life o f the Indo-European conquerors, their re
cognition o f and devotion to one supreme cause, tbeir realization that behind
the phenomena o f the natural world, wliich appear shifting and changeable,
there is a constant principle (rita) or order in events. P iggott6 has shown that
the war-chariot (rallia) o f the Rig Veda had a central pole and yoke harness,
the so-called throat-and-girth harness, not only unpleasant for the horse but
most inefficient mechanically, yet nevertheless com m on to the regions o f
Indo-European colonization, for example Homeric Greece and Celtic Britain.
Despite the gradual development o f philosophy the personification o f the
primal forces o f nature in, for instance, the god o f the sun, Sürya, or the god
o f fire, Agni, continued. Sacrificial altars, at first mere heaps o f turf, evolved
into elaborate designs demanding arithmetical and geometrical calculations.
Vedic literature, broadly considered, tells us only fragm entary information
concerning the early stages o f Hindu science. The wisest procedure is to ex
amine the wholeevctluation in the light o f certain terminal writings such as the
5 T h is h a s b een fo u rn i e q u iv a le n t to 13*64 g ra m m e s in th e series o f w e ig h ts.
6 S . P ig g o t t, o p . c it., b p . 2 7 6 - 8 1 . A n e x c e lle n t p la n .a n d s id e e le v a tio n a r e d ra w n to s c a le
o n p . 280. S e e a ls o S . D . S in g h , Ancient Indian IVarfare with Special Reference to the Vedic
Period, L e id e n , 196 5.
Science 142
Kautihya Arthasâstra, the Éttlva Sûtras, the Caraka Samhità, and ultimately
[thé Sûry a Siddhânta, which present us w ith an established body o f knowledge
mr doctrine. Assum ing tentatively a date o f 1500-1400 b . c . fo r the Rig Veda we
[are confronted by a vast ocean o f time from which sm all ‘ islands’ appear at
[irregular intervals to provide a few bearings, and firm ground is denied us
itìntil after the dawn o f the Christian era in Europe.
^ P e r h a p s the earliest source dealing exclusively with astronom y is the
(Jÿotisha Vedânga; from this work, the text o f which is corrupt and condensed
[irÊform, and m ay date from 500 B.C., one learns the rules for calculating the
position o f the new and full m oon amongst the 27 nakshatras, and o f the
layanas which fall in cycles o f 5 years each o f 366 days. In 5 solar years were
$ 7 lunar months, so that i f these are taken as equivalent to 62 synodic months,
[then a year o f 12 months m ay be retained if the 31st and 62nd months are
Ipmitted from each cycie. This ancient system o f lunar-solar reckoning was
■Widely used in India and occurs also in Jaina literature. A n earlier statement
iph the nakshatras in the Taittirïya Samhità1 (o f the same period as the
-Brâhmanas or priests’ books o f ritual) gives a com plete list o f their names,
|which must have been well established b y the eighth or seventh centuries B.c.,»
and certainly existed in the sixth century at the very latest. O f the three inde
pend ent systems o f astronom ical reference used in antiquity, the decans o f
'Egypt, the zodiac o f M esopotam ia, and the lunar mansions, i.e. the 27 or
[28 positions occupied by the moon in one sidereal rotation, the last seems to
■ have appeared in India as nakshatras and in China as hsiu at abou t the same
time,'1There is no evidence to show that at this early period the developm ent
'■could have been anything b u t independent: but i f one is looking for a com m on
-origin there is just the possibility that moon-stations could have arisen from
She old Babylonian astronom y o f c. 1000 b . c . and the conception been
[diffused through Iran : their reappearance as al-manâzil am ong the A rabs, the
■Kèirs o f Sassànian Iran, in pre-Qur’ânic times is suggestive.
•. Early Indian cosm ology is generally based upon the square and cube— a
:quotation from C . P. S. M en on 10 summarizes the basic concept adequately:
iT h ere is first o f all the earth based on a square, w ith a c o m e r tow ards the so u th , and
[shaped like a p yram id , w ith a num ber o f successive hom ocen tric sq uare terraces
Cnling up to a p oin t (or rath er, to a sm all sq u are): o n the top o f this is the m o u n t
iM enJ, a pyram id w id en in g ou t as it rises, a t a sm all a n gle to the v ertica l; ro u n d this
Hie the orbits o f th e sun form in g h o m o log ou s squares on a h o rizo n ta l p la n e; ab o v e
(thie su n ’s p lan e is that o f the m oon with sim ilar orbits. W e m ay im a gin e a b o v e this
w ere the planes o f the different planets a t in creasin g heights, as described in the
■Vishnu-Puràna ( o f the H in du s) ; if these w ere also origin ally square orbits, we sh ou ld
have the origin al con cep tio n o f the orbits o f the p lanets as form in g the successive
■terraces o f a p yram id representing th e heavens.
Associated with this early M eru cosm ology were a series o f numbers, such
jas 4 ,12 , 28,60, obtained through sub-division o f the square, or rectangle. The
7 Taittiriyn Samhità, iv. 4. 10.
\ * T h is is s u p p o rte d b y a n o th e r list o f 27 in th e Kâthaka Samhità ( x x x ix . 13) a n d lists o f
.28 in th e Maltrâyani Samhità (ii. 13 , 20) a n d th e Atharva-Veda (x ix . 7).
•: * F o r U ig h u r a n d T ib e ta n v e rs io n s see W . P e tri, Indian Journal o f History o f Science,
•V ol. t , p t. 2 , N e w D e lh i, 19 6 6 , p p . 8 3-9 0 .
10 C . P . S . M e n o n , Ancient Astronomy and Cosmology, L o n d o n , 1 9 3 1 , p . 9 4 .
44 Science
a .d . were either useful devices o f everyday life such as the vâriyantra, prob
ably a revolving water-spray for cooling the air, mentioned by the poet
K âlidâsa in his Mâlavikâgnimitra; or automata and toys such as those de
scribed by H ero o f Alexandria, Philo o f Byzantium, and Vitruvius.1* R e
ferences to Yavanas, who were often engineers, in early Tam il literature, and
commercial intticourse between southern India and the West, especially in
Augustan times, suggest acquaintance with Greek and Rom an ideas. Though
Bhoja in his treatise Samarânganasütradhâra gives many technical properties
o f machines neatly classified, refers to the use o f toothed wheels in the opera
tion o f types o f merry-go-round, and has a general statement concerning the
magnitudes o f effort and load in a machine, we do not find scientific laws as in
G reek mechanics. Perhaps most remarkable is the absence from the Jaina
physics o f a concept o f force, action and change arising out o f time, but, as in
the case o f the atom ic theory, this must be considered in terms o f the contem
porary philosophy; there is error in reading too much into early texts.
A ncient Hindu mathematics shows an early interest in large numbers ex
pressed in powers o f ten, in the nature o f numbers and their factors, and in
the division o f time into its smallest units. These large powers occur in the
V ed ic Sanihitâs, Bràhmanas, and Sütras, in the epics MahâbhSrata .&nd
RdntSyana, and in the Laiitavistara (where 1053 is given). O f particular interest
is the Éatapatha Brâhmana, which lists all the factors o f 72O as fa r as 24, and
after stating that 360 nights and days contain 10,800 muhürttas proceeds by
four successive multiplications by 15 to reach the ultimate prânas or breath
ings. T h e occurrence o f the w ord ròsi (a heap) in the Chândogya Upanisjiad
recalls the use o f the same concept by the Ancient Egyptians, and is clearly
the humble origin o f what was later to becom e the burden o f m any a school
boy, standing fo r the unknown quantity x. ,
O f the greatest importance to._the historian o f mathematics are the Sulva
Sütras™ which form part o f the Kaipa Sütras and deal with the construction o f
sacrificial altars used in V edic ritual. A s terminal writings they summarize the
knowledge o f several preceding centuries and provide an excellent picture of
the achievements o f Hindu geometry prior to the mathematics o f the Jaina
sect; furthermore, 'when temple worship replaced the old rites o f the agni-
cayana, this geometrical tradition lapsed1* and was subsequently superseded
b y the growth o f analysis for which Hindu mathematicians are justly re
nowned. From the mass o f literature which must have been the prerogative o f
the priesthood seven Sulva Sütras have survived and o f these three are especi
ally valuable— those o f Baudhâyana, Âpastam ba, and K âtyâyana.” They deal
w ith such matters as the construction o f squares and rectangles, the relations
o f the sides to the diagonals, the construction o f equivalent squares and rect
angles, the construction o f equivalent squares and circles, the construction of
'» See e.g. H . J. J. Winter, ‘ Muslim Mechanics and Mechanical Appliances’, Endeavour,
1 5 ( 1956), 25-8. ’
” Bibhutibhushan flatta, The Science of the Sulba, University o f Calcutta, 1932.
JI Bibhutibhusban Blatta, ‘ Geometry in the Jaina Cosmography', Quetten >mdSturile»m r
Geschlchte dec MatKematik, A b t. B.-Bd. 1 (1930), 243-54.
** See e.g. V . Sharrna, KStyàyana Salva Sutra, Benares, 1928. D . Srinivasachar and V . S.
Narasimhachar, Âpastamba Sulva Sutra, with the commentaries o f KapardisvSmi, Kara-
vindasvarai, and Sundararâjà, University o f Mysore, 1931. '
Science 147
triangles equivalent to squares and rectangles, and the construction o f
squares equal to two or more given squares or equal to the difference between
two given squares. In this connection we may note two interesting formulae,
those giving the diagonal o f a square and the squaring o f the circle. Thus,
Recording to Baudhàyana and Âpastam ba, to obtain the dvi-karani. or
diagonal” ‘ Increase the measure by its third part, and again by the fourth
part (of this third part) less the thirty-fourth part o f itself (i.e. o f the fourth
part).’ This gives a value fo r 1/2 o f
I I I ,
H — I---------------------- or 1-4142156 .
3 3 -4 - 3 -4-34
diverging from modern calculation only in the sixth place o f decimals.
Baudhàyana says: ‘ I f you wish £0 square a circle, divide its diameter into
eight parts; then divide one o f these parts into twenty-nine parts and leave out
twenty-eight o f them; and also the sixth part (o f the previous division) less the
eighth part o f this (last).*” A relation between the radius o f the circle (r) and
the side (20) o f the equivalent square is finally obtained in the form : ■
a = r - gr +, g—
r - ~ u ■r y -,f ; r
8 8.29 8.29.6 8.29.6.8
material deriving from several centuries earlier, and not only has certain
chapters corresponding to those o f C araka but almost identical pharmaceuti
cal formulae. The work is interesting in that no reference is made to C araka;
it is also significant in showing the penetration o f Hindu medicine into Central
Asia.
Ayurveda (the science o f longevity) as set forth in C araka makes no mention
o f surgery, being solely the province o f the physician. The development o f
surgery is initially attributed to the genius SuSruta w ho m ay have taught and
practised in K à sl (Varanasi, Banaras). He incorporated surgery, into {he
general field o f medicine, advised a wide training and experience gained under
several teachers, stressed the importance o f surgery in the study o f anatom y
(which was the major sveakness in Hindu medical knowledge), and attempted
a stricter classification o f existing data” which still resided in separate m ono
graphs marred by confusion and repetition. W ith Sulruta also there ended
the specialized tradition o f elephant medicine.38
Hindu tradition made an eight-part division o f the field o f study, broadly in
respect o f (a) diseases, their diagnosis and treatment, and (b) the means o f
healing in relation to the whole man, the philosophical and ethical approach.
Thus under (a) we find illnesses requiring surgery (salya) and the science o f
obstetrics; diseases o f the eye, ear, nose, and throat (sâlâkya); diseases due to
the disturbance o f the humours which involve the therapy o f the whole organ
ism ; mental and other disturbances o f demoniacal origin; pediatrics, i.e.
children’s diseases, caused by demons; and finally, three aspects o f ayurveda
— medicinal drugs (agada) and antidotes, elixirs o f life, {rasay ana), and
virility (odjikaram). M ore wideiy (b), we consider the organism (sarira), its
moral and physical health (vritii), the origins o f disease, and., the nature of
pain and illness in terms o f the balance o f the humours,, treatment or action
{karman), the consequences o f treatment, the influence o f time (kâla) in re
spect o f the age o f the patient or perhaps the, seasons, and lastly, the .profes
sional conduct o f the agent or physician, his diagnosis, his methods and in
struments (karana). Emphasis was laid.upon the preyentativeaspect.and early
treatm ent.
There is no reference to hospitals in the ancient Hindu medical literature,
but they evolve with the spread.of-Buddhism, The second R ock Edict (r. 256
B.C.) o f the M auryan Emperor ASoka celebrates the beginnings o f sociaL medi
cine, whilst Çeylon, by the foürth century a . d ., coulc^boast some hospitals,
and a medical service; by royal command each physician served the villages,
and veterinary officers tended the king’s elephants and horses. Am ple evidence
o f the treatment o f out-patients in dispensaries occurs.inithe Sangam literature
o f southern India.”
” T he present text o f the Susriita Samhitâ probably dates from the fourth century a . d .
51 Hastyûyurueda, ed. Mahâdeva Cimanàji Apte (Ânandâtrama Sanskrit Ser. N o. X X VI),
1894. H. Zimmer, Spiel bn der Eiefynlen, MUnchen, 1929. Franklin Edgerton, TheElephanl-
Lore o f the Hindus, the Matanga-LUa o f Niiakantha, New Haven, Conn., 1931, On horse
medicine see ASvavatdyhka by Jayadatta, and Aicacitiksitâ by Nakula, ed. Umèiacandra,
Bibliotheca Indica, Calcutta, 1887.
M S. Gurumurthy, ’ Medical Science and Dispensaries in Ancient South India as gleaned
from Epigraphy’, Indian Journal o f History o f Science, Vol. 5. No. I (197.0), 7 6-9.
Science 151
.• ITI
W e conveniently leave the ancient w orld via the Siddhdntas, the astronom i
c i 'treatises w hich in themselves exhibit a transition from the Paitâmaha
Siddhânta, which retains the V edânga astronom y, to \hc Surya Siddhânta ò f
a'.d. 400,40 which largely establishes the form o f native astronom y fo r the
duration o f the M iddle A ges.41 Varaham ihira, c. a .d . 505 sum m arized in his
Pàncliasiddhâtitikâ the five Siddhdntas entitled Paitâmaha, ■ Vàsishtha, Paulisa
Rontaka, and Sürya, though ü s version ò f the last-named:iindicates that
gradual changes in the text o f this, the m ost im portant Siddhânta, m ust have
occurred subsequently. K . S. Shukla lists as a minimum twenty-eight com
mentaries on it by know n authors, m ostly in Sanskrit but tw o in T elugu,
Reaching to the early eighteenth century, together with at least-.seventeen
ytro.rks based essentially upon its theory; his recent edition44 includes the
com m entary o f ParameSvara ( a .d . 1432) written in K erala in south India.
M uch discussion has centred around the transmission o f G reek astrono
m ical ideas to India during the first four centuries o f the Christiàn era.4? T his
period coincides w ith that o f the grow th o f the Siddhânta literature, and the
Romaka Siddhânta especially shows signs o f G reek influence, an influence
w hich is notably present in the term inology o f astrological writings such as
the Brihajjâtaka and Laghujdtaka o f Varaham ihira. It is also theperiod o f close
commercial intercourse between imperial R om e and the coasts o f K erala
and Tam ilnâdu, em bracing both the Augustan age and the Sangam age.44
Tam il poems o f the latter make frequent references to yavanas^ w ho were
Westerners fam iliar with Hellenistic science hnd Rom an technology, and w ho
assisted in the design and construction o f yantras, especially engines o f war.
M ore o r less contem porary influences o f G reek and Rom an craftsm anship
are evident in coinage and in sculpture in northern India.46 N o r should one
Overlook the intellectual contacts o f the G upta Em pire w ith Sàsânian Persia,
where there was some study o f astronom y.47
5 . T h e Tam il tradition in respect o f astronom y is especially significant. B y the
study o f two G reek papyri o f the R om an period, which seem to have been
written c. A .d . 100 and c, 250 respectively,48 and o f the-Tam il m ethods o f
'.T- ia The earlier limit. It may still have been developing as late as a .d . iooo.
* :'4' For further sources, see D . Pingree, ‘ Sanskrit Astronomical' Tables in the United
States', Trans, Amer. Philos. Soc., V ol. 58, N o . 3 (1968), 77.
‘ 47 K . S. Shukla, Tlte Siirya-Siddhânta, with the Commentary o f Parameivara, D ept, o f
Mathematics and Astronomy, Lucknow.University, 1957.
41 H . J. J. Winter, Eastern Science, London, 1952, Ch. i l l,
‘,l’ 44 R . E. M . Wheeler, Rome beyond the Imperial Frontiers, London, 1954.
' 4SV . R . Ramachandra Dikshitar, Translation o f the Silappadìkaram, Oxford, 1939.
A ; Danieloù, Translation o f the Silappadikâram, N ew -York, 1965. P. T . Srinivas Iyengar,
History o f the Tamils from the Earliest Times to 600 A .D ., Madras, 1929.
46 W . W . T a m , The Greeks in Bactria and India, Cambridge, 1 9 5 1 . 1 . M arshall, Taxila,
3 ’. vols., Cambridge, 1951. R . E . M . Wheeler, ‘ Roman Contact with India, Pakistan and
Afghanistan’, in Aspects o f Archaeology, Essays Presented to O. G. S . Crawford, London,
1951. . .
' 47 S. H .T aqizadeb , Bull. School o f Oriental Studies, 9 (1939), 133-9. D.-Pingree, ‘ A stro
nom y and A strology in India and Iran’, Isis, V ol. 54, No; 2 (1963), 229-46.
44 O. Neugebauer, The Astronomical Treatise P . Ryl. 27, K gl. D anske Vidcnsk. Selsk.
hist.-filol.'Meddelelser,- X X X II, 2, 1949. Knudlzen-Neugebauer, ‘ Zw ei astronomische
T exte’, Bull, de la Soc. Royale de Lettres de Lund (1946-7), pp.‘77-8.
Science
H ighly regarded and widely disseminated, the Sürya Siddhânta had a p ro
found influence on the course o f medieval Hindu astronomy. A ccording to
Sumati (c. A .D . 800), whose w ork was known both in N epal and in K eralâ,
and who wrote his Sumati Tantra and Sumati Karana on the basis o f the earlier
version o f the Sûrya Siddhânta, it provided the essential elements used by
Nepalese astronomers in their construction o f the Hiudu calendar. Evolving
during the period between A .D . 628 and 966, the later version gained greatly in
popularity, especially in the twelfth century, when Bhâskara II quoted from it
and M allikârjuna Süri w rote commentaries on it, first in Telugu then in
Sanskrit.
The more important Hindu astronomers, with the approximate dates at
Which they flourished^ were Âryabhata I ( a . d . 499), his pupil Làtadeva
( A . d . 505), Varaham ihira ( a . d . 550), Brahmagupta ( a . d . 628),.Bhâskara I ss (a
contemporary of; Brahmagupta and a disciple o f Âryabhata I), L alla56
51 O. Schmidt, 'Ori the Computation o f ihe Ahargana’, Centaurus, 2 (1952), 140-80.
14 Ch. II, vv. i r t i. Revd. E. Burgess, op. cit., p. 53. .
5>K . S. Shukla, Mahâ-Bhâskariya (Bhâskara I and his works Pi. 2), Department o f
Mathematics and Astronomy, Lucknow University, i960.
54 Sudhakara Dvivedi, Sifya-dlti-vrtidlrida o f Lolla, Benares, 1886.
154 Science
a b c
Sin Z .A = Sin Z.B = Sin Z .C
where a, b, c are the sides o f the triangle A B C .
doubt that they were one o f the media through which Hindu astronomy and
mathematics passed to the Arabs during the ‘Abbâsid caliphate.67 O f a
practical nature, the Arabs transmitted to the W est the so-called Hindu
numerals and decimal system and the simpler algebraic and trigonometrical
processes, but ignored the use o f negative quantities and the higher algebra o f
indeterminate equations which they do not appear to have understood.
M edieval Hindu mathematics may be conveniently divided into two pro
vinces o f study, p â tig a n ita 68 and bijaganita. T he former comprised mainly
arithm etic and mensuration; geometry, which had earlier been a distinct dis
cipline in the S u lv a S ü tra s, was now widened in scope and assimilated into
mensuration. Perhaps the earliest example o f this kind o f presentation is to be
found in the Bakhshàll manuscript,69 which is written in old S â r a d â characters
on seventy folios o f birch-bark, and was unearthed from a m ound in the
Peshawar district o f north-west India in M ay r88i. Uncertainty surrounds its
age; the m a th em a tics has been dated as early as the third century a .d . and the
manuscript itself as late as the twelfth. B ijagan ita, which was concerned mainly
with the solution o f algebraic equations, embraced problems in which there
were more unknown quantities than there were equations with which to find
tbem. This study o f indeterminate equations was a notable feature o f both
Hindu and Chinese mathematics during the medieval period.
In India indeterminate analysis reached its zenith in Bhâskara II. He de
scribed the solution o f the first-degree equation in terms o f the pulverizer
{k u tta k a ),'10 a quantity such that, when it is multiplied by a given number, and
the product added algebraically to a given quantity, the sum or difference is
divisible without remainder by a given diviser; that is, he obtained whole-
number values o f x and y which satisfy the equation a x ± b y — c.
Indeterminate equations o f the second degree in the forms
a x -y b y -k c = xy
and a x 1 + c =* y l
had already been investigated by Brahm agupta, but the solution o f the general
equation
a x 1 + b x + c = y*
portance was attached to the use o f minerals and natural salts in prescrip
tions, and books o f such prescriptions appeared in popular medicine.78
Medicine and chemistry were closely allied. Alchem y was an integral part of
Tantric mysticism. Throughout the Tantric period (c. 700-c. 1300) and the
ensuing latrochem ical period (1300-c. 1550) the philosophy o f mercury, which
in the Rasaratndkara o f the alchemist N àgàrjuna and the Saiva tantra Rasâr-
nava was concerned essentially with the elixir o f life, gradually developed, as
exemplified in the Rasaratna Samucchaya and many other similar treatises, into
the more realistic study o f mercurial remedies and the chemical behaviour .of
the metals.79 Indian alchemy reached T ibet80 in the early eighth century with
the spread o f Buddhism, and is to be found in the great scriptures Kanjur and
Tanjur. In the field o f metallurgy remarkable technological competence was
attained as early as the fourth and fifth centuries; the casting o f the pure-
copper Buddha at Sultanganj in Bihâr and the welding o f wrought-iron shapes
to complete the Iron Pillar near D elhi cannot fail to inspire the highest
respect.81
IV
In astronomy the Muslim tradition o f instrumental technology survived in
India until the middle o f the eighteenth century.87 The astrolabe, which had
been lovingly perfected by generations o f Persian and A rab craftsmen and
was again executed in fine workmanship by the fam ily o f ‘ Isa b. Allâhdâd in
Lahore81 in the reign o f the M ughal Emperor Jahangir (1605-27), was used by
the astronomers in the service o f the M ahàrâja Sawâî Jai Singh II (1686-1743)
at his observatories in Delhi, Jaipur, U jjain, Vârànas! (Benares), and
M athura.84 Though Jai Singh’s principal astronomer was the Hindu Jagan-
nâth he made full use o f European and Islam ic ideas. In particular his massive
masonry quadrants and dials, constructed to attain maximum accuracy, in
the absence o f the telescope in India, closely follow the precedent set by the
Samarkand observatory o f U lugh Beg. On a much simpler level the gnomon,
which in Borneo8.8 consists o f a vertical staff placed in the ground (the co
tangent form), appeared with a short horizontal piece inserted near the top of
the staff (the tangent form). A shepherd’s timestick o f the latter type, inscribed
in nâgari script and from Nepal, has been described elsewhere by the present
writer.86
D uring the late eighteenth and m ost o f the nineteenth centuries Europeans
resident in India add South-East A sia, excited by the new world o f natural
71 See e.g. Elizabeth Sharpe, An Eight-Hundred Year Old Book o f Indian Medicine and
Formulas, from b id Hindi, London, 1957. .
79 Acharya Prafuil^ Chandra RSy, History o f Chemistry in Ancient and Mediaeval Indi ,
now edited by P. Rfiy, Indian Chemical Society, Calcutta, 1956.
80R ây, op. cit., Tibetan texts, pp. 449-56.
81 See further, Indian Journal o f History o f Science, V ol. 5, N o. 2 (1970), Sections X - X I 1.
81 H.\J. J. Winter, ‘ The Muslim Tradition in Astronom y’, Endeavour 10 (1951).- .
8* J. Frank and M. Meyerhof, Ein Astrolab ans dem indtsches Moguireiche, Heidelberg,
1925. . .
84 G . R . K aye, The Astronomical Observatories o f Jai Singh, Archaeol. Survey o f India,
N ew Imperial Series, V o l. 40, Calcutta, 1918.
85 J. Needham, op. cit., V ol. 3, p. 286.
85 H. J. J. Winter, Physis, Vol. 4, Pt. 4 (1964), 377-84.
Science 159
history around them, begau the process o f describing and classifying the
native flora and fauna. Thus the rem arkable realism o f the M ughal court
"painters,87 especially o f U stâd Mansur under the patronage o f Jahangir, him-
sëlf an ardent naturalist, was followed by a still more accurate art form dict
ated by the requirement o f scientific recording. Beautiful drawings by Indian,
Chinese, and European artists survive from this period.88
: India has not failed in this century to produce her Fellow s o f the R o ya l
Society. W e conclude with the three names o f Sir C . V . Ram an, Sir J. C . Bose,
'arid S. Ram anujan. Ram an investigated both experimentally and theoretically
[the general problem o f the molecular scattering o f light,8* which includes an
explanation o f the colours o f the sky and the sea. In the course o f these in
vestigations he discovered in 1928 that when a transparent liquid is irradiated
by a strong source o f light o f frequency n the spectrum lines as. seen through
the spectrometer used to examine the scattered light contain n ot only the ex
citing line n but several weaker lines o f frequencies n ± An on either side. The
small values An depend not upon n but only upon the nature o f the irradiated
liquids. This phenomenon has been named the R am an Effect and explained
in terms o f the quantum theory o f Einstein and Planck. Bose crossed the
boundaries dividing physics and biology.*0In a rem arkable series o f researches
during the period 1895-1927, in which the traditional.Hindu sensitivity to the
living world o f plants and animals attained a new understanding, he m ade a
unique contribution to our knowledge o f physiological response. In the course
o f this w ork he devised delicate apparatus to measure extrem ely short inter
vals o f time and rates o f reaction. O f his high m agnification crescograpb,
which could detect a rate o f growth in plants o f the order o f one millionth o f
a millimetre per second, he wrote: ‘ So sensitive is the recorder that it shews a
change o f growth-rate due to slight increase o f illumination by the opening o f
an additional window.’*1 Bose reached the ultimate in the study o f the inertia
o f mechanical systems prior to the development o f the cathode-ray oscillo
graph and the new methods o f electronic engineering. In Srinivasa Ram anujan
(1887-1920) w e sèe once again the brahman mathematician inspired by the
theory o f numbers, leaping intuitively to generalizations whilst the less gifted
ponder on the intermediate steps.*2 T he ‘ quiet, meditative child who used to
ask questions about the distances o f the stars’, w ho later said that the goddess
o f N am akkal fed him with formulae in his dreams, and w ho helped to create
the beautiful expressions in the Rogers-Ram anujan. identities,*7 developed, as
philosophy and religion. T o the gum intuition meant illumination from the
infinite ocean o f knowledge, and might, like a final cadence in Indian music,
at any moment fade imperceptibly away.
ADDENDA
A recent attempt by Finnish philologists to read the Indus V alley script
using a computer method seems to indicate that the nakshatras a re o fH a ra p -
pan origin, as also are the later D ravidian names o f the five planets related to
their colours (e.g. Mars, the ‘ red star’). Should this be substantiated, it would
..locate the origin o f the nakshatras, traditionally associated with the Hindus,
within the earlier Indus Valley culture.
(See e.g. A sko Parpola, Annales Academiae Sclentiarum Fennicae, X L , ser.
B. tom. 185. Helsinki, 1973.)
A n Institute o f H istory o f Medicine and M edical Research was inaugurated
at Tuqluqabad, N ew D elhi, early in 1970, and incorporates the library o f
D r. Cyril L. Elgood.
C H A PTER X III
T h e literary tradition o f India goes back more than 3,000 years, and during
the greater part o f this time it was dominated by Sanskrit, first in its Vedic,i and
later in its classical form. The early Aryan invaders o f India brought with
them, along with other elements o f a developed culture, a language o f great
richness and precision, and a highly cultivated poetic tradition. The c h ie f
custodians and exponents o f this poetic art were the families o f priests, eventu
ally to develop into the brâhman caste, who were also the guardians iand
practitioners o f the Vedic religion. The hymns to various deities composed by
members o f these families were orally preserved, first among the several
families concerned, and were eventually united into one great collection
known as the Rig Veda. This text not only served the purposes o f religion, bpt
it provided a common literary standard for the A ryan tribes o f India. The
compilation o f the later Vedas followed after no great interval, and the corpus
o f Vedic poetry, whose beginnings m ay be fixed somewhere round 1300 B .C .,
was probably complete in the main by about 1000 b . c . A fter this date hymns
were no longer composed in the old poetic tradition, and instead there de-,
veloped an extensive prose literature devoted to ritual matters, in a form o f
language notably younger than that o f the hymns, and showing some signs o f
being based on a dialect situated somewhat further to the east. This prose
literature was also entirely oral, and its language is rem arkably uniform. The
period o f the older Brâhmanas, as these prose texts are called, may be put
roughly at 1000-800 b . c ., but the language continued to be used without
noticeable change for two or three centuries more. T he next milestone in the
history o f Sanskrit is the Gram m ar o f Panini, which describes in complete
detail a form o f the language younger than that o f the Brâhmanas, and based
on the spoken usage o f the educated brahmans o f the time. Pânini’s exact date
is unknown, but the fourth century b . c . m ay be given as a rough estimate. His
grammar quickly gained universal acceptance, and as a result the form o f the
Sanskrit language as described by him was fixed for all time.
The reason why ^anskrit as a language evolved no further after Panini was
not only his authority, but also the fact that by this time the Aryan language
had become divided into two, on the one hand Sanskrit, the language o f learn
ing, and in particular the language o f the brâhman caste and o f its religion,
and on the other hahd Pràkrit, the language o f the masses. These terms did not
in fact come into use until some centuries later, but the dichotomy was already
established by the time o f Buddha and Mahâvïra. From this time on normal
linguistic evolution affected only the vernacular language, Prâkrit or M iddle
Indo-Aryan; Sanskrit remained fixed in the final form given to it by Panini,
and continued to be used as the language of the educated classes, although, as
Ancient and Modern Languages 163
time went 011, the difference between it and the ordinary spoken language
increased.
Although the gap between Sanskrit and the ordinary spoken language grew
progressively, this did not have an adverse effect on the use o f Sanskrit, but
rather its importance grew with time. F or instance the language o f administra
tion in M auryan times, as attested by the inscriptions o f ASoka, was Prakrit,
and this continued for some centuries; but gradually Prakrit was replaced by
Sanskrit until finally Sanskrit was almost exclusively used for this purpose. A
similar development too k place am ong the Buddhists. Originally, according
to the directions o f Buddha himself, their texts were composed in M iddle
Indo-Âryan, and thé scriptures o f the Theravâda School are preserved in one
form o f this, nam ely Pah*, but later, shortly after the Christian era, the
northern Buddhists turned to Sanskrit. T h e old scriptures were translated into
Sanskrit, and new works were composed in that language. A s an intermediate
stage some schools developed a mixed or hybrid language which continued
in use for some time. The Jainas, though at a much later date, follow ed the ex
ample o f the Buddhists, and also began to com pose in Sanskrit instead o f
Prakrit. On the whole it can be said that during the last 600 years o f pre-
Muslim India Sanskrit was more extensively and exclusively used than at any
time since the close o f the Vedic period.
Th e Vedic literature, both verse and prose, was com posed and handed
down orally. This was a remarkable achievement, and it was only possible be
cause there existed a class o f people, the brahmans, the m ajor effort o f whose
lives was devoted to this end. A t the same time it had a lim iting effect, inas
much as such literature as remains is confined m ainly to the religious sphere.
The introduction o f writing took place probably about the same time as
Panini was codifying the rules o f the Sanskrit language, and it rendered pos
sible a vast extension o f the uses to which the recently codified language could
be put. Nevertheless the process was at first slow, due partly to the above
mentioned com petition o f Middle Indo-Âryan. The Sanskrit literature pre
served from the time o f Pànini and the centuries immediately follow ing is still
. mainly religious, consisting o f various sûtras attached to the V edic schools.
. Their language corresponds mainly to that ofP ânini, but tolerates a number o f
^irregularities which would not later be allowed.
> In the field o f secular literature Sanskrit epic poetry was the next m ost im
p o rta n t development, but the oral tradition in this field seems to have con
tinued for some time, so that it was not until considerably later that the
written epics in the form that we have them took shape. T h e epic language
also, though follow ing Panini as a rule, admits a considerable num ber o f
irregularities. The use o f Sanskrit prose for scientific, technical, and philoso
p h ic a l purposes is first exemplified on a large scale by the Mahâbhâshya,
-Patanjali’s commentary on K àtyàyana’s Vârttikas ■ to P ânini’s grammar,
jw hich can be dated with some certainty to the second century b . c . A fter this
time, and particularly during the early centuries o f the Christian era, a great
'corpus o f technical scientific literature, covering the fields o f philosophy,
^medicine, politics, and administration, etc., cam e into existence. In the same
period the rules o f Panini were m ore strictly applied, and deviations from
them were disapproved. Classical poetry, in so far as it is preserved, is rather
164 Ancient and Modern Languages
assuming the shape that is familiar today. The main block o f Indo-Âryan
stretches as a solid mass across north and central India. In addition there are
certain minor and eccentric languages outside the main block, which are o f no
literary importance but are often o f great interest for linguistic history. Such
are the D ardic languages o f the north-west, which are both extraordinarily
numerous and remarkably archaic. The gypsy languages were taken to the
N ear East and Europe by itinerant tribes who probably left India about
a . d . 500 or shortly after. T he only literary language outside the main block is
Sinhalese, which was introduced into the island by settlers from north India
about the time o f Buddha. It is o f great interest both on account o f its inde
pendent growth, and because o f the fact that, with the help o f inscriptions, an
almost continuous picture o f its development can be formed. Its literature is
extensive and the earliest portions o f it considerably antedate the earliest
literature produced in the modern languages o f north India.
The modern languages o f the main block o f Indo-Âryan developed very
much on parallel lines, since there were no major geographical obstacles in
hibiting mutual contact. Eventually the following literary languages emerged:
Tam il, in which there is an extensive corpus o f lyric poetry dating to the early
centuries o f the Christian era, as well as an important grammatical work, the
Toìkàppiyam. T he reason fo r this priority was the fact that the Tam il country
was the furthest removed from the centre o f Aryan expansion, and the develop
ment o f the native language was not inhibited by the competition o f Sanskrit
or Prakrit. F rom this period on there is a continuous and extensive literature
in Tam il, and three language periods, Old, Middle, and M odern Tam il, are
distinguished. T h e M iddle Tam il period begins with the lyrics o f the Saiva
and Yaishnava religious teachers who flourished under the Pallavas, and con
tinued until late medieval times. The modern period o f the language begins, as
elsewhere, round about a . d . 1800, when the influence o f English and European
models began to be felt. A lthough considerably modernized, the written
T am il language differs considerably from the spoken language, which has
evolved a good deal further. A movement to bring it more in line with the
spoken language has not, however, made much progress, since the latter is
divided into various kinds according to both locality and class.
The Tam il language was less influenced by Sanskrit than the other three
D ravidian languages, and the number o f Sanskrit and other Indo-Âryan loan
w ords in it is considerably smaller. A t the Old Tam il stage they are very few
indeed, and there was perhaps a deliberate attempt to avoid them. The
Sanskrit influence is a good deal more extensive in the writings o f the Saiva
and Vaishnava saints, and greater still in some later works, but it never
attained the same degree as it did in M alayâlam , K annada, and Telugu.
Recently there has been a movement to purify the Tam il language o f extran
eous elements, but in view o f the continual need for fresh technical vocabulary
this is hardly likely to be com pletely effective.
T he M alayâlam language existed in the early period only as a dialect o f
Tam il, and it was not until about a .d . iooo that it achieved the status o f an
independent language. It has its own alphabet with the full complement of
Sanskrit letters (unlike Tam il, which manages with far fewer), and it makes
liberal use o f Sanskrit loan-words. A very highly Sanskritized style was at one
time current under the name o f Mani-praoala. Its literary development in
modern times has been considerable.
The literary development o f Kannada and Telugu was inhibited at first by
the fact that these territories were under the dominion o f the Àndhra Empire,
whose administrative language was Prakrit. In this respect they were followed
by their immediate successors, and it is not until about a .d . 500 that we begin
to have evidence o f the use o f the native languages. K ann ad a inscriptions
begin to occur about a . d . 450, and Telugu inscriptions from about a . d . 650.
The earliest K ann ada literary text dates from the latter part o f the ninth
century, but the names o f a number o f earlier works are known. There is a
considerable body o f w ork from the tenth century, mainly the w ork o f
Jainas. A ll this is written in Old K annada, which gave place later to M iddle
K an n ad a, which was itself, by a continuing process o f evolution, replaced by
M odern Kannada. In the case o f K annada there is no marked difference
between the spoken and written language, such as was noted in the case o f
Tam il.
1 T a lio n hfipins about the end o f the first millennium with N annaya’s
Ancient and Modern Languages 169
translation o f the Mahâbhàrata. This is followed during the succeeding
centuries by a considerable number o f works based m ainly on Sanskrit
originals, as elsewhere, m ainly in verse. The Vijayanagara Empire coincided
with the most flourishing period o f classical Telugq literature. T he develop
ment o f the modern language and literature followed the usual lines, and, as
in Tam il, there was during m ost o f the modern period a considerable difference
between the spoken and written languages. Since about 1940, however, there
Has been a strong movement to bring the written language more into line with
the spoken, and, by and large, this movement has been successful.
C H A P T E R X IV
Classical Literature*
by A. K . W a r d e r
ap p ly (he Dame to the author o f (he present text) from old traditions contain
ing two or three probably separate legends in several versions (one is found in
the P âli Canon). In the Rcimayaiia we thus find: (i) the palace intrigue at
A y o d h y â by Queen K a ik eyl resulting in her stepson Ram a’s exclusion from
the succession to his father’s throne and sentence to twelve years’ exile and
(2) Ram a, exiled in the south, finds its inhabitants oppressed by the raids of
demons {râksasas) from Lanka (Ceylon), the island fortress o f the demon king
•Râvana, and himself suffers the abduction o f his wife Sita by Râvana; he
raises an army (mostly o f ’ m onkeys’), gaining allies, invades Lanka, kills
R âvaoa, frees Sîtà, and returns home in triumph, the period o f exile having
elapsed and his noble stepbrother Bharata generously surrendering the throne
to him. The legend or myth o f Râvana itself, with his victorious wars against
the gods, m ay have been a separate source, as perhaps was that o f the great
‘ m on key’ hero Hanumant, son o f the Wind G od . Y âlm îki’s finest cantos are
surely those o f the palace intrigue, with the psychological study o f the
characters o f K aikeyl and her confidante. The apocryphal last book o f the
Râmâyana adds a tragic ending: Sîtà’s new exile on suspicion-of unchastity,
when a captive, and final disappearance. This changes the main rasa to the
‘ com passionate’ , whereas originally the poem would be ‘ heroic’ , though with
a considerable compassionate element resulting from R am a’s sufferings.
Prose story-telling in the Buddhist Canon is a little less heavy and abrupt
than in the Veda but still full o f repetitions and rarely ornamented except by
the occasional insertion o f a verse to emphasize a point. H um our and satire,
however, abound. T h e novel, as an extensive prose fiction (running to
hundreds o f pages), seems to us to begin with G unâdhya’s Brhatkathâ (‘ Great
S to r y ’) about 100 B .c. (thelost Cânmiatï o f Vararuci m ay have been an earlier
novel). G u çâd h ya’s language was PaisacI, closely related to the Pàli o f the
Buddhists, and both the milieu and the matter o f the Brhatkathà were akin to
those o f the old Buddhist story telling. Unhappily Gunàdhya’ s text seems to
be lost save for a few quotations, so that we have to reconstruct the narrative
from the excessively free paraphrases in'Sanskrit, M àbàràs(n, and Tamil
which superseded the archaic and forgotten language o f the original. Though
a fiction, the Brhatkathà is made to seem historical by giving its imaginary
hero N aravàhanadatta a historical father, U dayana, one o f the last descend
ants o f the Pàndavas (fifth century B.C.). His adventures take place mostly in
the real cities o f that time and the characterization is realistic. O n the other
hand, superhuman ‘ w izards’ (vidyâdharas) intervene, one o f whom , Mànasa-
vega, abducts the hero’s greatest love, M adanam aiicukâ. This leads ultim
ately to a victorious war against the wizards beyond the Him alaya, after
N aravàhanadatta has acquired the power o f flight from one o f them w ho be
com es his friend. M ore important than this incidental acquisition o f wealth
and power, however, are the hero’s twenty-six conquests o f love. The novel
m oves between the intrigues and struggles o f the real world and the realization
o f wild dreams largely in the realm -of ‘ science fiction’ (strange sciences and
the construction o f ‘ space m achines’). The rasa is thus the ‘ m arvellous’
(Dandin) rather than the ‘ sensitive’ .
Aévaghoça’s (first century a .d .) are the earliest epics now available
(Pânini’s Jâmbavatijaya is known only from quotations) to show the fully
Classical Literature >77
fledged kâvya technique : concentration o f the matter in about twenty cantos
only (about 1,500 quatrains) in many metres; perception o f discrete moments
through the separate quatrains instead o f a continuity o f flowing narrative;
numerous figures o f speech. Each ‘ m om ent’ may suggest the them e o f the
w hole story, but we are to dwell on its significance before pressing on to know
what happens next. Asvagho$a was an earnest Buddhist, so that the ultimate
significance he wishes to convey, through the delights o f poetry, is the shallow
ness o f the world and the true happiness o f renunciation and peace o f mind.
Y e t he appears far from indifferent to the pleasures o f the world, describing
m ost realistically just w hat he holds to be m ost ephemeral. This ambiguity and
tension, which seems to reflect personal experience, inspires all the elaborate
art, or ‘ ornam ent’ o f language and meaning, carrying Aévaghosa’ s philo
sophy. T w o epics are available, the Life o f the Buddha (Buddhacarita) and the
Handsome N anda (Saundarauanda, who was m ost unwilling to becom e a
monk). It is a heavy loss that only fragments are now available o f a series o f
dramas by Asvaghosa, whose powers o f characterization are so well displayed
in the epics. The Éâriputra and R àf trapala are again well-known stories o f re
nunciation. A play with a fictitious hero, Som adatta (apparently the son o f a
merchant), takes us to the milieu o f the wealthy amateurs (nàgarakas) o f the
Kâmasütra, with a festival on a hill top and such stock characters as the jester
(or ‘ fo o l’), rogue, geisha girl (who is the heroine), and maid. Another play
had some allegoricalxharacters.
In lyric kâvya the classic model is the Saptaiatï, a Prâkrit (M âhârâçtrî)
anthology collected, we are told, by a ‘ Sàtavâhana’ emperor (more, rarely
called ‘ H â la ’, a dialect form), perhaps Pu]umâyi II Vàsi$(hiputra (second
century a . d .). This seems to represent folk songs (in a dialect o f the peasants,
not o f the imperial administration), each a single verse in a musical metre.
They arc miniatures o f situations in life, mostly village life on the banks o f the
Godavari and in the valleys o f the Yindhya. Love is the theme (always,
according to the critics, though sometimes hidden) and the singers alm ost
always women. Their jo y s and sorrows, invitations and complaints, or the
comments o f gossips, arc set in the village with its cattle, buffaloes, ploughing,
milling, cooking, weaving, working in rice, sesame, or millet fields, or cotton
and hemp gardens. Sometimes the changing seasons and their effects on love
form the background. T h e villages are likely to be poor and affection m ay
either compensate for everything or be severely reprimanded by a more
worldly friend. There is plenty o f humour, ofteu in the ambiguous language
used by the heroines to hide their improper suggestions, Anandavardhana
quoting them for ‘ revealed’ meanings.
Pàdalipta’s novel Tarangaoati, also in Màhâràçtrï, seems now to be avail
able only in an abridged paraphrase in the same language by one Yasas. T he
action depends on the memory o f form er lives, particularly o f a strange in
cident in which a hunter accidentally shot one o f a pair o f ruddy sheldrakes.
K illin g breeding birds was against the hunters’ code, so he remorsefully cre
mated it, whereupon its mate in despair threw herself into the fire. T h e pair
were reborn in merchants* families in Kausàm bï. T he girl Tarangavatï sud
denly recollects her tragic past on seeing some sheldrakes in a park. Sadly she
paints the scenes o f her past life on a long scroll, which a maid displays on a
I ?8 Classical Literature
balcony for a festival. Her lover happens to pass and is reminded o f his own
past life. The girl’s rich father opposes the match with a mere caravan mer
chant so the two elope, but are seized by robbers. A young robber frees them
and Tarangavati’s father relents when they reach home. A fter a happy
married life they meet a Jaina m onk, w ho tells them he was the young robber,
who was the hunter reborn, and had freed them because he remembered his
past when the girl told their story. Convinced o f the truth o f the Jaina teaching
about transmigration the two determine to escape it by joining the Jaina
ascetic communities.
Th e Jaina Pâdalipta and the Buddhist philosopher N âgârjuna are both
traditionally connected with the Sâtâvâhana anthologist. N âgârjuna wrote
an ‘ epistle’ to Sâtavâhana and an ethical ‘ tract’ (Ratnavali) to the same ruler,
as well as ‘ hym ns’ (lyric stotras) praising the Buddha, representing a flourish
ing Buddhist tradition in these minor kâvya genres. Their most celebrated
practitioner was M âtjce(a, w ho wrote an ‘ Epistle to the Great K in g K a n ik a ’
(K aniska III?), probably soon after a . d . 176, and some tracts. H is greatest
works are his hymns, describing the qualities and actions o f the Buddha,
especially in his former lives as bodhisattva, whose self-sacrificing nature is
directly opposed to the worldly nature. T he style is in appearance simple, un
pretentious, but conceals all the art o f kâvya, especially o f originality in ex
pression despite the well-worn subject. The figures are handled with a certain
restraint, suggesting the infinite scope o f the subject by contrast w ith the little
the poet feels able to say. M âtrceja’s reticence implies a detachment remote
from Aévaghoça’s involvement.
Possibly a contem porary was £üra, w ho used a somewhat similar terse
style in tracts but whose masterpiece is the campii Jâtakamâlâ, a collection o f
bodhisattva stories (some o f them illustrated in Ajantâ). The prose is as elegant
and fastidious, as com pact and elliptical as the verse.
Bhàsa (second century A .D . ?),-.perhaps the. greatest Indian dramatist,
brings us at last a comprehensive view o f the classical theatre. His master
piece is the ‘ D ream V âsavadattâ’ , a full-scale history (nòtaka) in which the
heroine sacrifices all her happiness in order to save her husband’s (Udayana)
kingdom from a powerful enemy. Her courageous action, part o f a subtle
plan o f a minister, bears fruit after great mental suffering, which Bhâsa finely
depicts, and she is reunited with Udayana restored to his throne. T h e ‘Conse
crations’ deals with Râm a’s victory over R avana, the most interesting charac
ter being perhaps the demon king, vainly courting the captive Sltà and then
suffering increasing anguish as his armies are defeated and his son killed. The
‘ Statue’ treats the Rèm a story more comprehensively and from thè different
point o f view o f Bharata. From such nâtakas we discover the aims o f classical
dramatists, using a familiar story but reinterpreting it and developing new in
sights into the characters. Another presents the young Kr?na killing Karpsa.
T he ‘ Five N igh ts’ déals very freely with an episode from the Mahâbhârata in
three acts (belonging i f not to the archaic samavakàra type, to that known later
as a saiiâpa, ‘ contention ’). Further scenes from the great epic are presented
in a series o f one-act .heroic plays (vyâyogas) and the death o f D uryodhana, or
rather his ascent to heaven because he died heroically, in a one-act tragic play
(utsfftikânka). ‘ Yaugandharàyana’s V o w s’ is a ‘ light p la y ’ (nâ/ika) on the
Classical Literature >79
minister who frees Udayann from captivity. T he full-scale ‘ fictions’ (praka-
raijas) Aviinâraka and Daridracârudattu take us to (he world o f N aravàhana
datta and Somadatta. The merchant Cârudatta is im poverished-and conse
quently almost friendless, then crosses a parasitic scoundrel on the fringes o f
a corrupt court and narrowly escapes death.
Of'Bhâsa’s time or à little éarlier are two ‘ satirical m onologues ’ (blidnas), by
Vararuci and Isvaradatta. In this type o f play the solo actor represents a
‘ parasite’ (vi/a), a professional go-between fo r tem porary relationships. H e
proceeds about his.business through the streets and public places o f some
metropolis, meeting (in mime) characteristic inhabitants o f the geisha quarter.
‘ B oth G o to M eet’ ( Ubhayàbhisârikâ) thus gives interesting pictures o f the
follies and vices o f Pàtaliputra, with its cultural life (music and drama), to
which the ‘ D ialogue o f the Rogue and the P arasite’ adds a discussion on the
philosophy o f love, the drift o f which is that it is an excellent thing to spend
m oney on women, especially if they are beautiful but best o f all if they are
‘ am iable’.
T o complete the cross-section o f the theatre o f Bhâsa’s day we have a-
‘ street p lay' o f doubtful date (Traivikrama, in dialogue form narrating a story
illustrated by a painting) and the one-act com edy {prahasana) ‘ M aster-
M istress’ (Bhagavadajjukiya) by Bodhâyana. T h e M aster, a saintly teacher o f
yoga, disastrously shows o ff his powers before a student by projecting his soul
into the supposedly dead body o f the Mistress (a geisha), whose soul brought
b ack from the Underworld is then lodged in his body. M eanwhile the girl’s
mother and lover a rr iv e .. . .
H enceforth all Indian dramas are on this enlarged scale. Sudraka is the equal
o f Bhâsa in characterization and in filling his plays with well-arranged action,
w hilst putting mòre o f the incidents on stage instead o f reporting. His third
play is the satirical m onologue ‘ Lotus G ift’ , in which a parasite proceeds
through UjjayinI, describing the rascals he meets, in order to sound ou t a new
mistress for MOladeva (a historical character subsequently transformed into a
legendary prince o f thieves).
T h e anonym ous ‘ Review o f the Seasons’ (often misattributed to Kalidasa),
a lyric in which the poet describes to his beloved the effects o f the six seasons
o f the Indian year on lovers, is probably o f this period.
F rom -the fourth century little survives except fam ous names and some
quotations, which reminds us that the greater part o f the old literature o f
India has been lost. Sarvasena’s MàhârâstrI epic ‘ V ictory o f H a ri’, on Krçna
carrying off the Pârijâta flower from Heaven for Satyabhâmà, defeating Indra,
seems to have set a new style, with a stronger focus on the emotions and also
longer descriptive digressions. W e get a very good idea o f this lost epic from
B hoja’s discussions and quotations, to which K untaka adds that Sarvasena
was, w ith K âlidâsa, the greatest exponent o f the delicate and natural style in
kâvya. F o r the emotional content, Sarvasena made much o f Satyàbhâm à’s
jealousy o f RukminJ.
T he dramas o f Ram ila and Somila are lost, but Candragom in’s ‘ Joy o f the
W o r ld ’, a Buddhist play on the bodhisatlva M anicüda giving aw ay all his
possessions, survives in a Tibetan translation. O f uncertain date are a group
o f once-fam ous ‘ fictions’ , especially the Pu^padii^itaka o f Brahmayasas and
the Anangasenàharinandin o f Suktivâsa. The first is a story o f unfair suspicion
o f the behaviour o f the heroine by her father-in-law; the second has its hero
in the perilous situation o f a rival (in love?) o f a prince and falsely accused o f
theft. These aud the anonymous Tarangadatta>Fad/nâuatipariiiaya ( 'Padmâ-
vatï’s M a rria ge’, which a rival tries to prevent), and Prayogâbhyudaya are all
know n to us from the critics, w ho by discussing these and m any other lost
plays com pletely change the impression o f Indian theatre we might have from
those available.
T h e Pancatantra seems to have been written in the fourth century. The
author was perhaps the narrator Yiçpuiarm an and his country the Vàkàfaka
Em pire o f the south (Deccan). Its popularity was such that new versions were
made, w ith additions from which it has been difficult to recover the original
w ork (Edgerton’s reconstruction seems a good approxim ation.) T h e genre is
the ‘ illustrating n o ve l’ (nidarsanakathâ), which is satirical and aims to teach
by exam ple. Here the subject is ‘ p o licy ’ (uiti), public and private. T h e frame
story is the instruction o f three young princes averse to form al education.
W ithin this, five stories presentfive ‘ system s’ (tantras) o f policy: (i) splitting an
alliance (or friendship) which obstructs one’s interests, (2) forming an alliance
oneself, (3) m aking war, (4) outwitting a strong but foolish enemy, and (5) a
w arning on the folly o f action without reflection. F o u r o f these are beast
fables, which enhances the sharpness o f the satire. Som e further stories are
em boxed, narrated by the characters to illustrate their own discussions o f
policy.
T h e other prose literature o f this period has suffered badly. T he ‘ Story o f
Classical Literature 181
court, Lava recognizes a golden statue o f his mother, her substitute at the
rite. Explanations follow , Râm a is convinced that L ava is his own son and
discovers that the innocent Sita is still living. In both plays the Râmâyaria is
treated with great freedom. T h e style o f the quotations seems consistent with
M eijtha’s, including the hum our and the absence o f lyricism.
Kâlidâsa is associated with ‘ V ikram âditya’ in tradition, but this m ay refer
to Skanda G upta, who used that title, whilst the poet is also supposed to have
met the V àkàfaka Pravarasena II (c. 410-40). Essentially a lyric poet, he wrote
epics and dranias too, taking advantage o f the lyric tendency which had always
pervaded kâvya. He is appreciated for the vaidarbha &ly\t and especially for
‘ sweetness’, whilst his waywardness sometimes puzzled the critics, sometimes
pleased them (Kuntaka found in it the natural play o f genius). K âlid âsa’s
most quoted w ork is the lyric poem Meghasandesa, ‘ Cloud M essage', in
which a distracted lover far from his beloved attempts to send her a message
by a passing cloud at the beginning o f the rains. The description o f the route
to be taken affords opportunity for the utmost fancy in that the landmarks are
such as would be thought to appeal to a cloud : beautiful rivers w ho will re
turn his love, high palaces, mountains. The short epic Kuniârasambhava,
‘ Origin o f K u m àra', includes Indra’s humorous plot to make a father o fé iv a ,
the gods having been defeated (as usual) by a demon, whom only a- son o f
Siva can kill. The longer epic Raghuvatjisa is a portrait gallery o f the kings o f
R am a’s line, illustrating the four ends, virtue, wealth, pleasure, and release,
pursued by the different rulers. Only in relation to this discussion o f ends can
we see any thematic unity and development in the poem, which otherwise is a
series o f detached episodes. A t the conclusion the dissolute.Agnivarna carries
pleasure to a ruinous extreme, but dies leaving his pregnant queen w ith ‘ royal
fortun e’ and hope for the future o f the dynasty .under the guidance o f the
ministers. v
O f Kàlidâsa’s three plays, the Màlavikâgnimilra is dram atically the best and
the least lyrical; it is probably the earliest. The story is a love intrigue at the
Sunga court, the comic rasa perhaps predominating. The Vikramorvaiiya is a
musical play (tofaka, a variety o f nâfakà) on the Vedic story o f Purfiravas and
the nymph U rvaii. The main interest is the character study o f UrvaéI,.who is
purely human. L yric and /ósya.elements appear, especially in. the pathetic
scene where the hero has lost her. The Abhijiïârtafâkuntaia, ‘ T oken S akuntalâ ’,
is admired for its lyricism, but its hero does nothing, things happen to him
through fate, a curse or divine intervention, his character is a blank. The
heroine is better characterized but also the helpless plaything o f supernatural
powers. Thus there is no real action but only a certain depth o f helpless feel
ing. The story is changed from the more realistic history in the Maliâbhârata
o f an ancestor o f the Bhâratas. K âlidâsa is a poet o f love, o f women sharply
oortrayed, and for Àpandavardhana one o f the great exponents o f suggestion.
T h e Setubandha, ‘ Building o f the C ausew ay’, by Pravarasena II, is a
M àhàrâçtrï epic on R am a’s invasion o f Lanka) the main theme being loyalty,
especially in the character o f R àm a’s ally Sugrlva. O n the march, Râm a sub
dues the Ocean G od-so that his army o f monkeys can build a causeway o f
mountains across to Laiikà. A t the critical moment o f the battle, when Râm a
is wounded, Sugriva’s heroism saves the day.
Classical Literature 183
‘ The K ic k ’ is a satirical m onologue .by âyàm ilaka (fifth century) set in
‘ Imperial C ity ', evidently Ujjayinï, with a collection o f ‘ rogu es’ or parasites
at least partly historical and contemporary. T h e Producer requests inform ers
and hypocrites to leave the theatre, since the play is.oniy.for,enjoym ent./The
parasite, Syam ilaka himself, then convenes the assembly o f parasites to try a
harlot for the sin o f kicking a foolish brâhman. B u t they, find the fa u lt L?,the
brahman’ s and prescribe a suitable expiation for him . ,•
Saipghadasa’s Vasudeuahindl, ‘ Wanderings o f V asu d eva’ , shows the en
richm ent.of Jaina universal history by the incorporation o f som e o f the ad
ventures' o f N aravàhanadatta from the Bfhatkathâ, but narrated o f K j$pa‘ s
father Vasudeva instead. Saipghadâsa knew he was writing fiction in this prose
novel in M âhârâstri, though he illustrates Jaina doctrine b y m aking the ad
ventures the result o f action in a former life, but later, writers, such as
Hemacandra, accepted it all as sober history.
Am aruka perfectly exemplifies the technique o f producing rasa by present
ing em otional situations, in this case a ‘ H undred’ (Sataka) situations between
lovers, each described in miniature in a single verse. T h ou gh the form is
similar, we are far from the village life o f Sâtavâhana, for the heroes here are
aristocrats or gentry, like the wealthy amateurs o f the Kâmasütra. U sing long
metres, A m aruka concentrates an extraordinary amount o f action or talk in
each verse, hinting at still more in the past. H e writes w ith tenderness; no
thing is higher than love.
B hâravi’s (sixth century) Kirâtârjunïya is the best epic now available, pre
senting, as K untaka points out, a short episode from the Mahâbhârata as a
complete whole. The narrative style is truly, epic and heroic, sweeping
vigorously upward from the tense opening scene, the disturbing report o f a
spy, to the sudden clim ax when Siva, the supposed K irà ta fighting^Arjuna
over a hunting incident, reveals him self and grants the decisive w eaponsw hjeh
will enable the Pàrujavas to win the Bhârata battle (thus the outcom e o f the
entire Mahâbhârata is here determined, the story is ended). T h e rich burden o f
description custom ary for an.epic is brought in n a tu ra lly b y such, scenes as
Indra’s arm y o f nymphs attacking the ascetic A rjuna in the mountains. T he
characterization is brilliant.
Subandhu's novel Vâsavadattâ is a highly rom antic and im probable story
treasured by the pandits for the double meanings in alm ost every sentence.
ViSâkhadatta’s Mudrârâkfàsa, ‘ Signet Râk$asa’ , is a p la y o f political in
trigue and secret agents, in which the famous minister C âp ak ya (K aufalya)
destroys the remaining enemies o f Candraguptà M au rya after the death o f
Nanda, winning over the best man am ong them, N anda’s minister Rfik$asa,
to the new king’ s cause. This is one o f the rare works in w hich anything like a
‘ national’ or ‘ Indian’ sentiment is suggested in place o f the usual universalis-
tic outlook, most o f the enemies being ‘ barbarians' (ruleechos). O nly frag
ments are now available o f ViSakfiadatta’s other pl&ys: thé Devicandragupta
on Candra ‘ V ikram âd itya’ k illin g.th e last 6 ak a ,:th e Abhisârikâuaflcltaka
which is a sequel to Bhâsa’s ‘ D ream V â s a v a d a t t â and the Râghavânanda
bringing out the heroic character o f Ram a in the war against R àvapa. A ll
these plays were popular with the old critics and their author w as one who
excelled at portraying character on the stage.
Classical Literature
W e may well remember here the rich repertory o f the classical theatre in
this period by naming a few apparently lost plays important in the discussions
o f the critics: Nalaoijaya in which the loss o f N ala’s kingdom was reported,
not shown, in accordance with a convention; ‘ Rambhâ and N alakü bara’ ;
Ufâharana on U sa and Aniruddha; ‘ M enakâ and N ah u ça ’, a to(aka on the
union o f a king and a nym ph; ‘ Sarm islhâ’s M arriage’ (with Y ayâti); ‘ Joy o f
the P âp davas’ ; Râghavâbliytidaya, with K aikeyi as the root o f all R âm a’s mis
fortunes; Jâ/iakîrâghava featuring Sïtâ and deviating greatly from the
Râmâyaija by bringing Râvana in at the outset as Ràm a’s rival for her hand.
The last seems the best o f these ‘ histories’ . In contrast we have six famous
com edies: Sasiuilâsa, Éasikalâ, KalikeU, Sairandhrikâ, Byhatsubhadraka and
Vikafanitamba, all named after their heroes or heroines; the last, ‘ Broad
B u ttock s’ , a learned lady who suffered from her husband’s ignorance.
F rom the Emperor Harsa (seventh century) we have three plays which have
stood the test o f time in the theatre, as well as two Buddhist hymns. The
Nâgânanda, a bodhisattva play like Candragom in’s, has held the stage down to
the present day in K eralà, though the audiences there are not Buddhist. The
rasa has always been a matter o f philosophical controversy and practical in
terpretation; the excellent commentator Sivarâma concludes that it may be
either the calmed or the heroic, besides which all the others are developed too
in a harm onious whole. T he other two are ‘ light plays’ on invented stories
about U dayana, Ratnâvalt and Priyadarsikd. Harsa’s .contemporary, the
Pallava K in g M ahendravarm an I, wrote a comedy Mattauildsa satirizing the
quarrels among ascetics. T h e Veyisamlidra o f Nàrâyana (in Orissa ?) has been
accepted as the best play on the Bhârata Battle. Yudhi$(hira’s brother Bhlma
is the hero, because he kills D uryodhana and binds up D raupadî’s braid o f
hair (ve/d) which she had kept dishevelled until her humiliation was avenged.
T h e p lay opens with his impatience to fight, whilst Yudhi$thira is still trying
for a peaceful settlement.
Bàita at Harsa’ s court is universally regarded as the greatest' master o f
Sanskrit prose. His style varies according to the content and the genre (bio
graphy bold and studied, novel delicate and flowing), but with m ore o f what
K un taka calls ‘ cultivated’ (‘ beautiful’ through art). The Har$acarita is a bio
graphy o f tbe young Harça, explaining how he found royal fortune. Kâdanibarï
is a psychological novel o f the timidities and missed opportunities o f youth,
leading to tragedy; but no tragedy is final in Indian literature, since trans
migration m ay bring the lovers together again. U nluckily Bâija died leaving
the novel unfinished just before the expected culminating tragedy o f Kàdam -
barï herself. His son wrote an ending, we dò not know how close to his father’s
intentions, and others also tried their hands at the enigma. Bâna’s dramas,
o f w hich the best-known was on the Bhârata Battle, seem, to be lost, but we
have his hymn in praise o f the G reat Goddess (Candi, Pârvati), full o f verbal
fireworks such as alliteration. M ayura, said to be Bâna’s father-in-law, goes
much further in this word play in his hymn to the Sun G od.
O f epics in the seventh century we may note first two ‘ gram m atical’ poems,
in w hich the narrative is devised in such a way as to provide systematic
illustration o f Sanskrit derivations. B h ap i’s Rdvatiavadlia thus retells the story
o f R âm a, often with hum orous effect, incorporating as a break four cantos
Classical Literature 185
illustrating Bhàniaha’s poetics. It proved popular with students and was cVen
translated into Javanese. Bhosa (Bhaum aka, Bhim a, Yyo$a, seem corruptions)
in his Râvaijàrjtmiya performed the more difficult feat o f illustrating the whole
o f Pânini’s grammar (except V edic forms) in the exact order o f the original.
T h e story is the defeat o f R àvapa by A rjuna Kârtavlrya.
It is possible that the mysterious Bhartrhari, author o f the ‘ Three Hundred ’
lyrics on policy, the sensitive, and renunciation, was Bhatti (= B hartr).
Bhartrhari is the philosopher, bitter and ironical; his vacillation between love
and detachment sometimes baffled critics seeking to determine the rasa.
Dharmakirti, the Buddhist philosopher, may be compared with Bhartfhari,
though with a different individual turn, in his lyrics o f despair at seeing how
anything good excites only envy in others, beauty likewise being wasted.
M àgha’s epic ‘ Slaying o f Sisupàla’ is outwardly regular, but in content be
is essentially a lyric poet, so that half the poem is like an anthology o f de
scriptive verses, much appreciated by critics, relating to places the hero hap
pened to pass on his expedition. T he story is K içp a ’s killing o f SiSupâla
at Yudhisthira’s râjasûya consecration, but changing the original narrative
in the Mahâbhârala completely to create more rasa, as K u n taka points
out.
Dandin, the critic, was also famous, says Râjasekhara, for two other works,
an epic telling two stories simultaneously (those o f Râm a and Yudhi$(hira)
and the novel Avantisundarï. T he poetic tour de force seems lost; o f the novel
we have 400 pages supplemented by a summary, but the conclusion is still
missing. Deliberately confounding history and fiction, or biography and novel,
according to his own critical doctrine, Daijdin sets his im aginary story o f
Ràjaham sa and his two sons against a detailed panorama o f Purârùc history.
T h e latter having in part the form o f prophecy by ancient sages, D andin uses
the humorous device o f having K in g Rpunjaya o f M agadha (sixth century
b . c .) read his own history, with dismay at learning he is to be the last o f his
line. The K in g takes evasive action, retiring to a forest and consulting a sage,
who enables him to survive more than a millennium until all the prophesied
dynasties o f M agadha have petered out. Rpunjaya then returns and conse
crates bis son Ràjaham sa, but he is defeated by the K in g o f Avanti and driven
into hiding in the forest. Here his sons Hamsavàhana and Râjavàhana, re
incarnations o f K rçna’s sons Pradyumna and Samba, are born, and the elder is
mysteriously abducted by a wild goose. Râjavàhana grows up to restore the
family fortune by conquering the world. T h e criticabpoint in his career is his
clandestine marriage with Avantisundarf, daughter o f his father’s enemy,
which almost proves fatal to him and further embroils him with the wizard
Virasekhara, son o f Mânasavega o f the Brhatkatha, who was about to abduct
her for himself. Râjavàhana is taken captive and carried along with the Avanti
army, to be released in a battle which follows and reunited with seven boy
hood friends who have meanwhile made their fortunes. T h e favourite episode
o f this reunion, bach telling his own adventures, has been circulated separ
ately under the misleading title ‘ Ten B oys’ (or ‘ Ten Princes’). The continua
tion beyond this is missing, but it is clear that the story will culminate with the
conquest o f the wizards, rescue ofA vantisu ndari, and reunion with Hamsavà
hana (who is perhaps N aravâhanadatta temporarily ejected from his empire).
186 Classical Literature
The philosopher Jayanta wrote a play on the religious situation in Kasm îra,
the Âgainadambara, ‘ Pom p o f Scriptures’. His aim is to show the superior
knowledge and humanity o f the brahmans and satirize the Buddhists, Jainas,
Lokàyatikas, and Kàpàlikas. Though some unworthy sects should be pro
scribed, the better schools share the high moral purpose o f the V edic tradition
and am ong these there should be toleration; their scriptures are different
entrances to the same house.
K ing KulaSckhara (c. a . d . 900) wrote two plays, which have remained
popular, to inaugurate new techniques o f production on the K eralà stage,
claiming to apply Ânandavardhana’s doctrine o f ‘ revealed’ meaning. It is
supposed that all the reforms o f the Keralà actors stem from him, including
the repetition o f the speeches in gesture language and the extemporized
‘ T a m il’ (now M alayâlam ) patter o f the ‘ fo o l’, equivocally m aking fun o f
present-day personalities along with other characters in the play, but this
seems unlikely. The Subhadrâdhananjaya has the story o f Arjuna eloping with
Krsna’s sister, after numerous misunderstandings and the opposition o f
K r jn a ’s brother. The Tapatisatnvarai.ia is the love o f Sam varana, one o f the
Bhârata emperors, and the daughter o f the Sun G od. K ulasekhara’s novel
Âscaryamaiïjari, praised by Râjasekhara, seems to be lost. A popular heroic
play Kaiyanasaugandhika, on Bhîm a fetching the Saugandhika Flower for
D raupadl but being challenged by his unknown brother Hanum ant on the
way, was written by Nilakan{ha, perhaps at KulaSekhara’s court. Vàsudeva
there composed a series o f rhymed epics in Sanskrit, on Yudhiçthira, K f?na,
Siva, and N aia. Though a regular feature o f Apabhraipsa and modern Indo-
Aryan poetry, rhyme in Sanskrit is a special effect like alliteration or punning.
Y àsudeva’s rhymes are complicated, but seem natural and effortless, which
explains the widespread appreciation o f his works. Lïlàéuka probably at
K ulasekhara’s court wrote the very popular lyric Krsiiakan.wmrta, on K j?na
as the sexually precocious infant loved by all women, but interpreted as sym
bolizing G od attracting all souls, thus an early example o f Yaisnava devo
tional kâvya. Another classic rhyming poem, partly double-meaning also, is
Nitivarm an’ s Kicakavadba on Bhïma slaying K lcak a, o f unknown date.
Dhananjaya’s Dvisandhâna (c. a . d . 800) is the earliest double-meaning epic
available, simultaneously narrating the Râmâyana and Mahâbhârata,
Râjasekhara was a junior contemporary o f Kulasekhara. T hough primarily
a dramatist, he is appreciated rather for the innumerable brilliant lyric verses
scattered through his works, being perhaps the most popular poet with the
anthologists. His epic Haravilâsa seems to be lost. His Bâlarâmâyaijia is per
haps the longest play ever written, exceeding even M uràri’s on the same sub
ject, and he even remarks that it is designed to be read, expecting that it would
not often be performed. Y et, unlike Muràri, Râjasekhara has some very
effective scenes, such as the confrontation o f Ràvatja and Sita in A c t I on the
occasion o f Sïtâ’s svayaipvara (‘ self-choice’ wedding). O f a similar play on the
Mahâbhârata we have only the first two acts. A ‘ light p la y ’ Viddhasâlabhan-
jikà is a com edy o f palace intrigue, as is the Karpftramaiijari, a satfaka or light
play in M âhârâçfri. The vivid expressions which charmed the anthologists
bring a strong sense o f Rajasekhara’s lively personality to the reader. This is
perhaps strongest o f all in his critical work Kâvyamimâipsâ, where he sets up
190 Classical Literature
and in multiple recensions, may be noted here. The Sukasaptati has as theme
Faithless wives and crafty harlots. T he Vetâlapancaoiipsatï and Simhâsana-
dvâtriipsika both concern the legendary Yikram àditya in most versions but
originally it seems Sâtavâhana was the hero (with Nàgârjuna). In the first, the
king has to answer riddles with which the stories end, in the second the
stories are about him. W e may add that Somadeva II (c. 1050) used a sketch
o f the Bfhatkathâ as a frame for a huge collection o f stories skilfully narrated,
the Kathâsaritsâgara. The romance o f M âdhavànala and Kâm akandalâ is a
popular tale o f illicit love, ending happily through the intervention o f the
chivalrous Vikram àditya. The Malayasundari likewise exists in several para
phrases, but the original is attributed to Keéin (seventh century B .C .) . In fact
it is a romance o f magic and a wicked stepmother, a fairy story not likely to
be earlier than the ninth century A . d .
Ksem endra’s illustrating novels are bitter satires on corrupt bureaucracy
and successful deceit and vice. The Kalâvilàsa introduces M ûladeva (‘ Whose
G o d is C ap ital') in his School o f Theft, instructing a student in the science o f
deception and the various professions through which greed is satisfied:
bureaucracy, harlotry, itinerant music and acting, jewellery, medicine, astro
logy, drug peddling, trade, begging, imposture, etc. Under bureaucracy the
different types o f arrogance ate treated. These are further displayed as weak
nesses in the Darpadalana. The Narmamâlâ satirizes the private lives o f the
bureaucrats and their wives. T h e Desopadesa displays scoundrels and cheats,
including the miser, parasite, and undisciplined students. The Samayamâtgkâ
is the life o f the bàwd K ankâlf, who outlives her m any husbands.
K çem endra’s plays seem to be lost,- but Prabodhacandrodaya, a very
different allegorical play on V ed an ta'by his contemporary Krçpam isra, has
been a model for similar plays advocating various schools o f thought.
The best twelfth-century epic is Harsa’s Naifadhacarila■on N aia. The
sensitive rasa predominates, with much o f the comic also. The author was a
philosopher and displays his learning, but the descriptive effusions are rele
vant to the story and the style full o f charm. The scale is grand and Har$a did
not finish the work. Sukum àra’s Krjriavilasa, on the young Kpsna up to his
carrying off the Pârijâta, in very simple style, is the most popular epic in
K erala. M ankha’ s Srikanth'acarita on Siva burning the three citadels o f the
demons is among the m ost beautiful epics, particularly for its descriptions o f
mountain scenery by the K âsm îrï author, but its action is brief. Jayanaka’s
Prthvirâjavijaya prematurely celebrated the ill-fated C âbam âna king. K al-
hana’s Rdjatarangini, a detailed vatpsavaliOT history o f Kaém ïra, under the in
fluence o f the Mahâbhârata aims to produce the calmed rasa through the
contem plation o f futile ambitions (the vamsâvalîs continue the history o f the
Purâpas and are rarely literary).
T h e Jaina theatre flourished with eleven plays by the critic Ràm acandra, on
N aia , Ram a, K f?n a, HariScandra, etc., and three fictions. Ràm abhadra and
Hastim alla dramatized Jaina legends. H eroic plays are now numerous, by
V ijayapàla, PrabJâdanadeva, K àncana, and Vatsaràja as well as Ràm acandra.
T h e same Vatsaràja (c. r20o) wrote examples o f the three types o f archaic
play on the gods and demons, a comedy, and a satirical m onologue; his gods
and demons are as hum orous as bis bogus ascetic and gambler. Sankha-
Classical Literature m
dhara’s Lalakamelaka is a two-act comedy in which a ninety-nine-year-old.
bawd finds herself a husband among a crowd o f çharlalaus. Jayadeva's Glla-
govinda, a râgqkâvya dram a in songs linked by narrative, is a most popular
classic which has often been imitated. Its Sanskrit lyrics use (he metres o f
vernacular Apabhraipsa to express R âdhâ’s love for Krsna.
T h e Jaina novel continued to flourish (relatively few non-Jaina novels have
been preserved, though many titles are known from the critics). D hanesvara’s
Surasundari, in MâhâràçtrT verse, is a regular hovel in the manner o f the
Tilakamai'tjari, except that at the end the hero and heroine leave the world and
attain enlightenment. Sâdhârana’s Vilàsavati is in Apabhraipsa and Mahend-
rasûri’s Narmadâsundari is a dharma novel in Mâhàràs{rï verse and prose.
The Turkish conquests o f more than half India between 900 and 1300 were
perhaps the most destructive in human history. As Muslims, the conquerors
aimed not only to destroy all other religions but also to abolish secular culture.
Their burning o f libraries explains the large gaps in our knowledge o f earlier
literature. Our view now depends mainly on what has been preserved in the
far south, in K eralà, supplemented by some Jaina libraries which m iracu
lously escaped and by such outlying collections as those o f N epal. T hough the
Indian tradition was thus cut off over wide areas, it developed vigorously
where Indian rule continued, including Rajasthan, Orissa, etc., as well as the
south. In fact about 90 per cent o f the extant Sanskrit literature, even, belongs
to the period since A .D . 1200 and was written in the regions remaining under
Indian rule. I f we now devote little space to it, compared with the classics
above, that should not be regarded as an adverse judgem ent (we rejept the
prejudiced opinion about ‘ decadence’) but as due partly to lack o f space and
partly to the general neglect and lack o f printed editions. W hat follows is a
small selection am ong the noteworthy kdvyas.
Am aracandra’s Bâlabhârala has been popular in Râjasthàn as distilling the
essence o f the whole Mahâbhârata.in a kâvya epic. The author belonged to the
literary circle o f the minister Vastupâla o f G ujarat in the thirteenth century,
from which more than ten epics and six dramas survive to show the w ork o f
such a group. A m ong these, the works o f Somesvara and Bâlacandra are out
standing and the play ‘ Crushing o f the Arrogance o f the A m ir ’ by Jayasiipha
is remarkable as presenting the contemporary history' of V astupâla’s victory
over the Turks. In this age o f perpetual Turkish wars there is a strong turn to
wards heroic themes. In Orissa, Jayadeva’s Prasannarâghava, though widely
studied fo r its difficulty and word music, is a variation on M urâri’s Râm a
play. Sakalavidyâcakravartin’s Gadyakariiâmrta is a biography o f a H oysala
emperor o f K arnataka. T h e lyrics o f Utprekçâvallabha and Laksm idâsa are
admired. O f dramas in the south, we may note K avivallabha’s fiction and
Ravivarm an’s Pradyunwâbhyitdaya.
A m ong many interesting playwrights in the fourteenth century are:
Prataparudra, for plays on Y a y ati and on U sa; Narasimha w ho made a well-
constructed drama out o f the novel Kâdambari\ Pürrjasarasvatï w ho staged a
.delightful fable o f a wild goose marrying a lotus amid dangers from an ele
phant, a thundercloud, and a storm; Sukumâra for a Râm a play; and
Jyotirisvara in whose com edy two ‘ ascetics’ quarrel over a wom an and call in
a brahman arbitrator w ho decides to keep her for himself. A satirical mono-
194 Classical Literature
as the demons try to deceive him. With the rise o f the M a r à c a s we have
Param ânanda’s epic Süryavamsa on Sàha, Sivàjî, and Sambhu. Classical
literature flourished at-all the M arâfha courts. In Orissà among epic poems
G ovindam isra’s ‘ O rigin o fP rad yu m n a’ and G angâdhara’s historical Kosalâ-
naitda are noteworthy.
Ràm apânivâda with a wide variety o f works in Sanskrit and Mâhàrâ?{rl
is the greatest eighteenth-century writer. A n epic on Râm a seems his most
admired w ork; a play on the same hero shows the ultimate stage o f uni
fication o f the elements o f the legend, from the killing o f Tâtakâ. T w o street
plays, dialogues between a king and his fool, and the two-act comedy
Madanaketucarita are more immediately entertaining. A campft and two
M àhàrâçtrï poems belong to the Kïçria cycle. Ràm apânivâda is an elaborate
stylist on the models o f Bâna and Râjasekhara. Ghanasyâm a is an innovator
in the theatre with plays in new forms instead o f the traditional act arrange
ment. T h e Navagrahacarila is a war am ong the planets; the Damaruka a series
o f satirical and philosophical dialogues. T h e Ânandasundarï is a regular
M àhâràstrï sat/aka, introducing a telescope in a naval battle. T he theatre of
this period is extremely rich, including plays on contemporary events.
Yenkayàm âtya wrote plays o f all the ten types described in the Nâfyasâstra.
D urgesvara’ s Dharmoddharaya is an allegorical play on the restoration o f re
ligion and learning under the M aràthas, at Vârânasï, U jjayinï, etc. Ràjasthàn
and Orissa naturally shared in the Indian revival (Krçpakavi, Candrasekhara,
etc.), which is marked in V ârânasï by the brief career o f the scholar-novelist
Y isvcsvara.
U nder the British, the Indian tradition was submerged b y the imposition of
English as medium o f administration and education, except in the ‘ N ative
States’ such as Travancore and Cochin. T he modern vernaculars under this
dom ination partly copied European models and developed a hybrid literature
which is neither European nor Indian, W ith political independence the cultural
scene has hardly changed as yet and the unity o f India is threatened by the
centrifugal force o f the vernaculars. Vernacular writers often seek European
orbits, considered ‘ m odern’, lacking the national character and relationship
am ong themselves which only the common Indian tradition could give them.
Sanskrit is the only truly national language India has ever had, linking all
regions and all classes with the immortal springs o f Indian thought. I f it dis
appears, with its cultural heritage, India will never be a nation and will surely
break up into a series o f European-type states. The decision still lies in the
future; meanwhile the semi-underground classical tradition conserves its
vigour and the twentieth century has produced several hundred Sanskrit plays,
whilst the theatre o f Bhàsa is being revived in K eralà. India’s cultural unity
m ay yet be saved and through it her political unity.
C H A P T E R XV
V e r y few people yet realize how great a debt the art o f the world— especially
that o f the Eastern world— already owes to India. It is true to say that without
the example o f Indian forms and ideas the arts o f the whole o f South-East
Asia, o f China, K orea, M ongolia, Tibet, and Japan would all have been
radically different, and w ould have lost by that difference. So, too, would
modern Western art, especially architecture and painting. Buddhism, a mer
chants’ religion par excellence, was the chief vehicle for this artistic influence,
though Hinduism did penetrate South-East Asia and the islands ; and Buddhist
art, at home in India, owed a good deal to the Hindu art that flourished
alongside it.
T h e earliest art o f India, that produced in the great cities o f the Indus
valley civilization (c. 2000 b . c .), could not have had much direct im pact on
the art o f the rest o f the world. There can, however, be little doubt that this
art shared a com m on heritage o f ideas with other regions of' the ancient
M iddle East.
M ost important o f all is the fact that certain symbols and images which
appear in later historical art first showed themselves in the miniature sculp
tures, in the seals and the sealings o f the Indus valley. Examples are the ithy-
phallic deity seated with knees akim bo as ‘ lord o f the beasts’, the naked girl,
the dancing figure w ith one leg lifted diagonally across the other, the sacred
bull, the stout masculine torso, the ‘ tree o f life ’, and innumerable modest
types o f monkeys, females, cattle, and carts modelled in terracotta.
After the end o f the Indus valley civilization there is the first o f m any gaps
in our knowledge o f Indian art history. W e have always to remember that
what has com e down to us o f early Indian art consists only o f scattered frag
ments o f what must have been a widespread and flourishing artistic activity
in many media. Alm ost everything made from ivory or w ood— including an
advanced architecture— everything painted on palm -leaf or cloth, o f which
huge quantities must once have existed, has been destroyed by India’s de
vastating climate. A few ivories have survived by chance, and on the walls o f
a handful o f caves some scraps o f painting. Even the stone carvings and larger
modelled terracottas represent only a tiny proportion o f the art produced by
each successive period in these durable materials. Such items were, however,
often important ones, meant to decorate major dynastic shrines; that is why
they were made, say, in stone rather than something more perishable. But it is
impossible to write an art history for India in the same terms as one can for
medieval Europe, or even for ancient Greece.
O ur knowledge o f historical Indian art begins with the ceramic wares and
figurative terracottas made in the cities o f the broad Ganga basin during the
Early Art and Architecture
last centuries B.c. W e also know something o f the building techniques and
fortification o f these cities. F or example at Râjgir, south o f Patna, there are
some superb Cyclopean fortification walls (sixth century B.C.), and at
Kausâm bî there was a palace with a substantial tunnel-vault (c. third century
B.C.). But the representational terracottas give the best insight into the visual
imagery with which the inhabitants brightened their lives. From about
200 B.C. onwards large numbers o f miniature reliefs, mostly either hand-
modelled or pressed in moulds, illustrate all sorts o f aspects o f good fortune,
including women loaded with jewels, pleasure parties, and animals. In the
G anga delta at Cha'ndraketugarh, for example, there was a factory fo r such
w orks; and at Patnâ have been excavated some superb terracottas o f dancing
girls, modelled in the full round.
These miniature works set the key for what comes after. T hey are imbued
w ith an atmosphere o f human sensuous pleasure which later art develops into
the typically Indian imagery o f sensual paradise. A flowery and jewelled
opulence, combined with erotic charm, appears full fledged in the earliest
know n ivories, representing gorgeous girls and fantastic animals, those from
Pom peii (before a . d . 79) and those excavated at Begram (c. i . D . 100). Such
purely secular works illustrate the Indian notion o f what are at once the
natural prerogatives o f kings and the typical accessories o f the hero’s heaven
as it is described in the Sanskrit epics.
D uring the third century B.C. the first major works o f architecture and
stone-carving which we know were made. There are reminiscencès in them o f
the dynastic works o f Iranian Achaemenid Persepolis, and they thus reflect
the dynastic pretensions o f the conquering M auryan emperors, chief o f
whom was A éoka (c. 272-232 B.c.). A m ong them are tall footless pillars o f
polished sandstone, whose capitals are carved with sym bolic animal figures.
Some bear inscriptions by Aéoka, enjoining on his subjects a m orality with a
Buddhist flavour. Similar ‘inscriptions appear elsewhere on rocks, one' o f
which, at D haulï, is carved with the three-dimensional forepart o f an elephant.
Saraâth, site o f the Buddha's first preaching, was adopted as dynastic shrine
by the M auryas, who commissioned à polished sandstone railing and dedic
atory figures. Buddhist stupas, which may have been constructed a century
or so earlier in the kingdoms o f northern India to contain and honour the
bodily relics o f the Buddha, were enlarged and refurbished— a process often
repeated later. A dynastic guild o f sculptors seems to have grown up, able to
carve colossal polished stone dedicatory figures, o f which several survive,
sometimes miscalled ‘ yakshas and y a k s h i s The two best known are the male
from Parkham and the female from Dldârganj, the latter dating from c, a .d . 50.
A number o f caves In the Barâbar hills were also cut to accom m odate mem
bers o f religious orders in the rainy season, and some were decorated with
simple sculpture o f guardian figures and inscriptions.
It was, in fact, in the decoration o f m ajor religious monuments that the
next developments in Indian art showed themselves. A t a number o f sites,
notably Bhârhut, Sânchî, M athurâ, and Bodh G ayà in the north, and Am ara-
vatl in the Kistnâ delta, decorative and figurai relief-carving was evolved to
ornament Buddhist stüpas and their railings. A t first the style was in low
and flat relief, the figures being carefully outlined and isolated against their
Early Art and Architecture 199
backgrounds; often they were angular and primitive, a fresh start seeming to
owe nothing to the M auryan dynastic style. But this low -relief style was
capable o f its own kind o f sophistication, as at Bharhut, where the pillars o f
the railing carried half-life-size figures o f country godlings, pressed into ser
vice at the Buddhist shrine; its coping carries a continuous creeper-design,
framing small reliefs, which suggests that the whole structure was interpreted
as an image o f the mythical ‘ wish-granting tree’. Then, b y the early years o f
the Christian era, at SanchI, on the gateways o f Stüpa I the sculptural style
evolved a characteristic softly rounded deep relief, which could also be de
veloped to present virtually three-dimensional figures, as on the brackets and
capitals. These works succeed in converting into stone what must have been a
strongly developing style o f two-dimensional narrative expression. T he
scrolled ends to the Sànchï lintels suggest that the Buddhist stories the lintels
bear are transcriptions into a more permanent medium o f the illustrations to
the pictorial story-scrolls so popular in India throughout the ages. W e know
that there was indeed a related pictorial style; for much-damaged fragments
o f wall-painting survive in Caves IX and X at Ajantâ in the D eccan, contem
porary with the earlier o f the SânchI gates. They, too, illustrate Buddhist
legend arid piety, perhaps more freely than the stone-cut reliefs could, in
their own softly stereotyped convention. But it is abundantly clear that these,
along with all the later and m ore'fam ous Buddhist paintings at A jantâ, were
instances o f a widespread tradition o f Indian painting, now vanished, which
was essentially secular but was readily adapted to religious needs.
The art first evolved in these early stüpa decorations lies at the root o f all
the later Buddhist styles o f South-East Asia and the F ar East. Its choice o f
legends for illustration, its method o f presenting them through groups o f
principal figures, even certain o f its characteristic types o f costume, becam e
canonical inali Buddhist countries, providing the basis for local developments.
In India itself, during the later first, the second, and the third centuries a . d .
the Buddhist (and Jaina) stupa becam e the focus o f artistic attention, its de
coration being much expanded and elaborated. The stüpa itself, originally a
domed mound near the crest o f w hich relics o f the Buddha and his saints were'
enshrined, developed, by the addition o f ever higher plinths and crowning
umbrella-spires, into a tall tower. Each stupa came to be metaphysically identi
fied as ‘ the axis o f the world ’, and ornamented with elaborate carvings which,
for all their cosm ic and sometimes dynastic symbolism, retained a funda
mental humanity o f scale. The skill o f the sculptors in representing figures
with a powerful plastic ‘ presence’ , and in com posing com plex narrative
scenes full o f overlaps, advanced rapidly. Especially in south-east India, at thé
Buddhist sites around A m aràvatï (e.g. Jaggayapeta, N âgàrjunakonda), the
stüpas, with their railings and gateways, cam e to. be alm ost totally clad in
panels o f white limestone carved with rich ornamental designs or sensuous
figurai relief. T h e style o f these w orks is closely related to contem porary frag
ments o f painting in the caves at A jan tâ on the othet side o f the peninsula. A t
the vanished stupas o f the most important site o f all, M athura in west-central
India, what was to become the first classic style o f Indian sculpture gradually
evolved.
During the same period, it seems that the custom o f Buddhist m onks
200 Early Art and Architecture
■unmistakable; and images made at M athura have been found at other sites
in northern India, for example at Sànchî.
B y the fifth century a sm oothly finished, cool, and subdued type o f Buddhist
sculpture had evolved there, which provided one o f the principal elements in
the G upta style o f art (fourth to seventh centuries). The fine echoing series o f
raised string-like folds o f garments and their curling lower hems, both in
fluenced by Gandhâran ideas, remained, until the decline o f Buddhism in
India, features o f many images, being either suggested by incised lines or
painted on to the surface. There may well have been some stylistic relationship
between such images and the life-size standing Buddhas made during the later
third century in the monasteries o f south-east India such as Am aràvatl,
carved in the local white limestone or cast in bronze. The bronzes especially
were exported to become the pattern fo r innumerable Buddha icons in the
contemporary Indian maritime settlements around the coasts o f South-East
A sia.
Between the fifth and seventh centuries we find a unified G upta style o f
Buddhist art established in northern India, which we know especially from the
images excavated at Saraâth, again a dynastic site. But the accounts left by
Chinese pilgrims describe numerous monastery-shrines throughout Bihâr,
Bengal, and Orissa, m any o f which have long disappeared, though a few have
been located and excavated. There were ioo-foot-high stupas and multi-
storied monasteries built o f wood, brick, and stone; and each site was filled
with images, large and small, cut in stone, modelled in terracotta or stucco,
and cast in bronze. M any o f them were, no. doubt, intended as costly testi
m onials to personal piety, since ‘ m ultiplying images o f the B u d d h a’ was con
sidered an act meritorious in itself. Am ong the excavated sites is the earliest
o f the great Buddhist universities, N âlandâ in Bihâr, which expanded later in
a rather haphazard way. It consists o f clustered courtyards and buildings o f
different patterns, including, o f course, stiipas, many o f which-were decorated
with particularly fine stucco sculptures of'Buddhas and Bodhisattvas.
Although the Chinese visitors recorded m any flourishing Buddhist centres,
they also.recorded their dism ay.at the decline o f Buddhism relative to Hindu
ism, the reasons fo r which are.explained elsewhere. Even the Bodhi tree at
Bodh G a yâ was cut down in about A .D . (Sooby a Hindu king and the shrine
converted to Hindu uses. Buddhism was fighting, so to speak, its last rear
guard battle in most regions o f India. In the ninth century the grpat Hindu
m onist philosopher Sankarâchârya hastened the doctrinal defeat o f Buddhism
everywhere. But in one region o f India, the north-east, including parts o f
Orissa,- Buddhism flourished greatly under the patronage o f the Pâla D ynasty
(e. 75 0 -1150) and too k on a new and fascinating lease o f artistic life, partly in
direct response to the H indu challenge. Other Buddhist universities were
founded, notably at. Vikramaéila, and enormous effort was devoted to .the
elaboration o f schools o f philosophy, logic, ritual, medicine, and m agic— to
which, incidentally,.H indus.w ere also admitted, The scholars gathered to
gether all the availàble. branches o f learning into a monumental synthesis
based upon certain medical and yogic symbolisms usually called Tantric. The
art was a direct reflection o f this syncretic activity. It developed systematic
groupings o f ideal figures to symbolize the various elements and processes in
Early Art and Architecture 203
stone architecture and temple carving— which is all that remains to us from
the centuries earlier than c. a . d . 1200— took place at scattered single sites
which were each fo r a time the capital cities o f royal dynasties, large and
small, and which had probably long been sacred localities. A ll over the sub
continent there are these sites, many certainly having-vanished w ithout trace,
at each o f which some tens o f temples were built and decorated over a century
or two, dedicated by members o f a royal fam ily and their chief subjects. With
the grow th o f the brâhmans’ encyclopedias o f collected legend, the PurSnas,
places especially sacred— those perhaps where m ajor episodes in legend were
supposed to have taken place— were also dignified w ith successive temple
foundations, attracting pilgrims over a long period o f time.
T h e fundamental pattern behind the beautiful complexities o f the Hindu
temple is very simple, evolving Daturally from the prim itive hallows or sacred
place. T h e sacred Duminous object stands within an enclosure and a cell. The
object is often a Siva lingam (phallic emblem); it can also be a sculptural
image, either replacing an older more primitive hallows, or ceremonially
carved or cast, and dedicated as a new dwelling fo r the sacred. T h e cell is
raised on a plinth and to it m ay be appended extra features, the commonest
beiDg a porch or portico, and a decorated door-frame. Then came an ambul
atory,, a crowning tower, one or more aligned approach-halls, one o f which
m ay be especially fo r dancing, and perhaps an encircling layout o f lesser cells
or even miniature temples. This last feature, in south India, m ight become a
fantastically elaborate sequence o f concentric enclosures with towering gate
ways. E ach temple is conceived, as the Buddhist stüpa was, as ‘ the axis o f the
w o rld ’, sym bolically transformed into the mythical M ount M eru, around
which are slung like garlands the heavens and the earth. The heavens are re
presented on the exterior o f developed temples by bands o f sculpture contain
ing icons o f gods and other lesser superhuman creatures which popular legend
ascribes to its heaven. Am ong these are the famous erotic carvings, which are
im ages o f the post-mortem delights awarded by celestial girls called apsarases
to the spirits o f heroes and sages. These heaven-bands are at the level o f the
raised interior floor, thus converting it into an analogue o f the ‘ courts o f
heaven’ , which are naturally adorned with ornamental designs reflecting all
that the heart Can desire.The principal image in its cell— called ‘ w om b-house’
— occupies at this level the place o f the enthroned king in his court, to whom
only the officiating brâhman has direct access. It is ‘ dressed’, ‘ fe d ’ , and ‘ en
tertained’, just as à king might be. From it the ‘ originating energy’ o f the
cosm os is felt to flow out through the fabric o f the temple into the everyday
w orld around its foot.
T h e earliest certain examples o f the basic form o f the temple arc o f the early
fifth century a . d . , on top o f Sânchï hill. But scattered stone and brick in
stances o f comparable date occur at such places as T igo w â; at Bhûm arâ is an
early shrine w ith an am bulatory. N o doubt there were yet earlier examples
w hich have perished, especially those at M athurâ which housed the icons o f
Y ish n u and Siva produced there during the second and third centuries A.D. A t
K u n d a, near Jabalpur, was also a very simple cell, restored in G upta times.
Caves, which were also developed as Hindu shrines, were being used by the
fifth century; a dynastic ròck-cut sanctuary at U dayagiri bears the date o f 401,
Early Ari and Architecture 205
and among its main features is a colossal sculpture o f the boar ‘ incarnation’
o f Vishnu, the patron deity o f the site. .
Although there are regional styles in which the temple is conceived more as
a constructed shelter (e.g. K erala, Kashm ir), the process o f stone sculpture
was one o f the principal factors in the evolution o f (he fu lly stone-built Hindu
temple. By about a . d . 750 the temple had come to offer columns and surfaces
expressly meant to be cut with legendary images. Even the volumes o f the
building were thought o f as sculptured masses of, stone, rather than as en
gineered support, wall, and canopy.
The principal regional centres where Hindu architecture evolved are very
numerous. M any remain to be properly investigated. But after about a . d . 650
it is possible to distinguish two broad types, the northern and the southern,
both o f which evolved as distinctive patterns out o f a previous mixed experi
mental phase. This phase is represented first by the many ruinous and rebuilt
shrines o f fifth- to seventh-century date in northern India (e.g. Eran, Shankar-
garh, M ukundarra), whose original design can be scarcely made out; and
second by the numerous groups at the successive Châlukya capital cities in
northern M ysore, notably Aivalli (Aihole) and Badami (sixth to seventh
centuries). A t Aivalli, in particular, it is possible to discern am ong the seventy-
odd ruined shrines successive phases o f invention, when different layouts and
decorative schemes were apparently being tried. Some shrines built o f large
Slabs with fiat slabbed roofs (e.g. M ahüà, Parsorâ) are reminiscent o f the
megalithic graves which were still beiDg constructed in this part o f the D eccan
during historical times. T w o, the L àdh K h a n 'and K on t G udi, even lack
separate shrine-cells, the image being set on the back wall. N earby, at Ter,
another temple, once Buddhist, clearly shows how such forms result from the
direct take-over o f Buddhist preaching halls.
The fully characteristic northern temple stands on a plinth adorned w ith
elaborately profiled and rhythmical horizontal mouldings, It is distinguished
by its tall square-planned tower over the main cubical cell; this has a con
vex curve to its contour and m ay have, around its root, com plex re-entrant
angles, imitative pilasters, small duplicates o f its own profiles, or ogival
hood-mouldings based on the end windows o f old . wooden palaces. This
tower is divided into horizontal bands which probably refer b ack to the actual
reduplicated stories o f earlier examples. Exactly such reduplicated stories do.
appear in early western Indian temples, and in the buildings o f those regions
in South-East Asia where early Hindu patterns o f temple w ere'adopted,
notably Cam bodia and Vietnam,
Th e variations o f the basic northern Hindu temple type are many. N o t all
are fully documented even now. A t individual sites, long lines o f continuous
development can be traced, leading up to immensely elaborate architectural
inventions; but at all times and places small, unpretentious structures which
are no more than modestly towered shrines with porticoes have been con
tinuously built. A t Osiâ, in Râjasthân, fo r example, a surviving group o f
modest dynastic temples date from the eighth to the tenth century. Their
porticoes and plinths exhibit several variations on the basic design. Deogarh,
a hill-site where many temples once stood, is noted for its restored shrine on a
cross-plan, probably built c..700. Stairways run up each face o f the plinth; the
206 Early Art and Architecture
shrine itself has its doorway in one wall, which three magnificent large reliefs
o f Vishnuife m ythology match on the other walls. A n early and very large
brick-built version o f the cross-plan, with one stairway rising directly into the
shrine chamber, is at Bhilargaon, near K anpur (Cawnpore). T h e faces o f the
high plinth are tiered with flat pilasters and ogival arcading. This building,
probably only one o f many similar temples which have vanished, is im portant
because it represents an early example o f the type which was developed at
Buddhist Somapura and transmitted to many parts o f South-East Asia. A t
numerous other sites in the different regions local architectural schools
flourished. In Râjasthàn temples were built with tiers o f open pillared bal
conies (e.g. K irad u, c. 1100). In western India the temples tended to have
squat towers buttressed with regular tiers o f miniature repetitions o f their own
design, and some had superb, elaborately carved dance-pavilions aligned with
the m ain shrine but standing free o f it (e.g. M odherà, 1126). Perhaps the most
fam ous sequences are at Khajurâho in central India and in the cities o f
Orissa, a Hindu state which never w holly succumbed to Islam. B oth groups
are distinguished by their superb figure sculpture.
A t K hajurâho twenty-five temples still stand out o f an original eighty-odd,,
all built between c. 950 and 1050 around a Jake. One is constructed round a
court on a ground-plan based upon a cosmic meditative diagram . T he
m ajority, however, follow the ‘ temple-mouûtain’ design. The most beautiful
individual buildings are also those which are carved with the m ost beautiful
figure sculpture, notably the Viévanàtha and the K andârya M ahâdeva. T he
celestial figures carved around their heaven-bands, m any o f them in overtly
erotic postures and groupings, all flavoured with a profound sensuality, are
w idely regarded as some o f the greatest'and most inimitable achievements o f
Indian art, an essential part o f man’s most precious heritage. The figures are all
cut in what is, in fact, extremely deep relief. T he depth o f the cutting gives them
a strong plastic presence even when they are seen from far off. T h e form s o f the
bodies are sinuous and totally convex; they seem to be bursting out o f the
fabric o f the building itself— an intentional effect with a direct'sym bolic value
in relation to the meaning o f the temple as creative source and centre.
A number o f fragments o f wall-painting suggest that m ost-of these temples,
including thejr sculpture, were plastered and painted, as Hindu temples still
are. It also seems likely that they were decorated with painted and dyed
cotton hangings. W e can, however, be sure that any temple o f significance was
elaborately decorated with precious metals and gems, just as shrines are in
m odern C atholic countries. T h e spoils gathered from Hindu temples by the
early M uslim invaders are reported b y the historians o f Islam to have been im
mense. A ll that has now vanished, virtually without trace. However, painting
and sculpture show how highly developed the arts o f the Indian jeweller and
w orker in precious Inetal were; for nearly every figure represented is wearing
a load o f superlative necklaces, hip girdles, head ornaments, bangles, and
anklets. .
Th e second m ajor group, in Orissâ, now contains more than 200 temples,
and once contained many more. A t the cities o f Bhubaneswar and Puri a con
tinuous history o f Hindu temple building can be traced through from the mid
eighth century almost to modern times. The sequence develops through’
Early Art and Architecture 207
made its impact, especially Ceylon, Thailand, and the kingdom o f eastern
Java.
In the western Deccan the Western Châlukya Dynasty built its own temples
in an extreme, mannered style, which is related to the general northern style
(e.g. Am barnàth, Bombay, eleventh century; G adag, Palampet, twelfth
century). The exteriors were elaborate and often sqtiat; but the interiors show
a proliferation o f columns with deeply cut horizontal mouldings, each with a
variety o f sections, and with facets for sculpture. T he brackets become agglo
merations o f fantastic animals. The figures which adorn these brackets and
the pillars develop extremely sinuous postures, their limbs becoming slender,
almost insect-like. In the major icons hard, clearly defined form s often betray
an insensitivity o f touch which suggests a hardening impersonality in social
and aesthetic attitudes.
A somewhat similar effect appears in the strange flowering o f a Râjasthàn
northern temple type in the southern state o f M ysore under the H o yiala
Dynasty during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries (e.g. Soinnàthpur, Belür).
The basic squat tower surfaced with repetitions o f itself was multiplied and
adorned with quantities o f ornamental sculpture. Star-shaped ground-plans
were adopted, and rows o f cells were linked upon single plinths. T he surface
ornament was developed into a fantastic mat o f curvilinear foliagc-tracery,
deeply undercut and so standing out against a ground o f shadow. Am ongst it
the human figures and animals, with their somewhat ponderous, simple form s,
are almost overwhelmed ; their heavy jewelled ornaments are woven into the
general proliferation o f design.
The question o f the value o f this vast inheritance o f early and medieval
Indian art to the modern world is a most interesting one. F o r two centuries
and more the West has been unable to come properly to terms with it. Indian
society has long been, and still remains, so rigidly structured that foreigners
have found it exceptionally difficult to enter sympathetically into Indian atti
tudes, aesthetic as well as social. Europeans are still excluded from m any o f
the most sacred Hindu shrines. There are now clear signs that this situation is
changing. M any V/estemers are making their way to India not merely as
tourists but as eager admirers and students o f Indian culture. M any thousands
o f published illustrations and millions o f words o f text have made the reading
public in the West aware that there still survive (but only just) a culture and
art in India which have something unique and significant to give the modern
world.
The fundamental point is that this Indian ar.t incorporates, in its own terms,
a set o f ideal canons, o f form. The different categories o f architecture were
made according to strict principles o f proportion, following prototypes whose
patterns were considered sacred and were handed down from generation to
generation o f craftsmen, probably in manuals o f written and diagrammatic
formulae (some latish examples survive). Sculptures— and. perhaps paintings
too— were made according to clearly laid-down prescriptions for each type,
both in iconography and in detailed proportions. These canons naturally
seemed to be in violent conflict with the semi-classical idealist-realist canons
o f art which persisted in Europe virtually into this century. It was no accident
that the first Indian art to attract widespread and serious attention in the West
210 Early Art and Architecture
Music
by N . A . Ja ir a z b h o y
V E D IC C H A N T
The literary tradition in India begins with the Vedas. A ccording to Hindu
tradition, these texts were imparted by the G od Brahma to sages (rishis) in the
form o f the spoken word and have been handed down from 'one generation o f
b.rahmans to the next in oral form, right down to the present period.
The original Vedic language had an accent system, com parable to that o f
Alexandrian Greece, where a particular syllable in each word was accented.
In some instances, the position o f the accent had a bearing on the meaning.
This applied particularly to compounds, such as indra-satru, which w ith the
accent on the first syllable, meant *whose enemy is Indra ’, but with the accent
on the first syllable o f the second word, meant ‘ enemy o f In dra’ . In the de
velopment from Vedic to Sanskrit, the original tonic accent was replaced by a
stress accent which was located autom atically near or at the end o f each word
determined by syllable length. The original Vedic accent was expanded to in
volve three syllables, the anudâtta (which can be described as a preparation
for the main point o f accentuation), the udâlta (the accented syllable), and the
soarita (a kind o f return to accentlessness). In the manuscripts o f the Rig Veda
and certain other texts, which occur much later, the anudâtta is marked with a
horizontal line below, the udâtta is unmarked, and the sparita is indicated by
a vertical stroke above:
I I 1
sahasrasîr$â purujal.t sahasràkçah sahasrapàt
a u s au s a u a u s
There are deviations from the basic pattern indicated above, but they need
not be discussed here.
The ancient phonetic and.grammatical schools which followed the Vedic
period paid considerable attention to matters concerning the accent and it is
thus clear that the position o f the accent in each word has been preserved faith
fully. However, the terms udâtta, anudâtta, and svarita, and the manner o f
their recitation, received divergent interpretation even in these early texts.
M odern scholars have put forward at least three differing views regarding the
nature o f the V edic accent: that the accent was based on pitch, on stress, and
on the relative height o f the articulatory organ.
There is much evidence for a musical interpretation o f the accent, not only
in the textual sources but also am ong some o f the traditions o f Rig and Yajur
214 Music
Vedic recitation which exist in India today. The most direct correlation be
tween pitch and accent is found in the recitation style o f the T am il A iyar
brâhmans, the most widespread style o f V edic recitation in India, This is
based on three tones: the udâtta and the non-accented syllables (called
prachaya) are recited at the middle tone, the anudâtta at the low tone, and the
svarita either at the high tone (when the syllable is short) or a combination o f
two tones, middle followed by high. This compares exactly with the manu
script notation where the anudâtta (the low tone) is marked with a line below
the syllable, and the svarita (the high tone) with a line above. In this style o f
recitation, the duration o f the tones is also directly related to the length o f the
syllables. In the following example it should be noted that the intervals only
approximate to the Western musical stave:
Musical example I, p . 240
The Nam bûdirï brâhmans o f K erala have a very individual style o f chant
ing, characterized by shakes or oscillations (kampa). F or the most part, how
ever, there is a similar correlation between accent and pitch. A s in the Aiyar
style, there is also a correlation between the duration o f tones and the length
o f the syllables.
M usical example 2, p. 240
The style o f recitation found in M ahâràshtra, however,.contrasts in prin
ciple with these two, since the anudâtta is recited at the high tone. T he relation
o f pitch to accent is not nearly so direct as in the tw o previous examples, being
modified by other phonetic factors, such as length o f syllable and whether it
begins with a nasal, semivowel, aspirate, etc. A feature o f this style is the
application o f stress, which falls, surprisingly, on the anudât(a, pushing the
pitch o f this tone as much as a fifth higher than the udâtta.
M usical example 3, p. 240
svarila ma (G ) sa (D)
udâtta ga (F) ni (C)
anuddtia ri (E) dha (B)
svarila sa (D ) pa (A)
A s with the Rig and Yajur Veda, there are several styles o f Sòma V edic
chant. T h at o f the Tam il A iy a r brâhmans, w ho follow the Kauihuma branch
'[■(fâklta) o f Sòma Veda, is the best-known. Their style is quite musical and
Pappears to be an extension o f the Aiyar Rig and Yajur V edic style. T h e hymns
I'seem to be based on the ‘ D ’ mode, the Ecclesiastic D orian. H ow ever, their
^intonation differs quite considerably from the ‘ J u st’ and the ‘ P ythagorean ’
fjtuning systems. Electronic analysis o f their tones shows a great deal o f yaria-
?;tion, even during the course o f a single chant. H owever, it does show that
f much o f their chanting seems to be based on intervals o f three different sizes,
| à semitone o f about 90 cents, a three-quarter tone o f about 140 or 150 cents,
I'and a whole tone generally ju st under 200 cents. T he basic nucleus o f the
j chants seems to lie in the tetrachord F - C , with D as the final (finalis). H ow
s ever, the interval F - C seems to be consistently smaller than a perfect fourth
5 (498 cents). In spite o f this, it is possible to see a great deal o f sim ilarity be
tw e e n the mode generally used in this Sòma Veda tradition and the ancient
t Indian parent scale, the shadjagrdma, which is discussed in the follow ing
hpages.
A N C IE N T INDIAN MUSIC
T h e Vedas and their ritual are applicable to the dui-ja, the ‘ twice b orn ’, the
three upper castes o f Hinduism. T h e fourth caste, the südras, were introduced
to Hindu m ythology and religious philosophy through the originally secular
epic poems, the Ràmâyana and the Mahâbhârata, and through the Purânas—
popular stories depicting the lives o f the various incarnations o f the' Hindu
deities and other religious legends. These were probably sung and recited,
perhaps even before the Christian era, by bards, in m uch the same w ay as they
still are. These legends were also enacted on stage, and probably the first
detailed description o f music is to be found in this connection in the Nâtya-
iâstra which has been variously dated from the second century B .c. to the fifth
century a . d . This work is, in m any respects, a m anual-for the producer o f
stage plays and deals w ith all the aspects o f dram a, including dance and music.
M u ch o f the present-day m usical term inology stems from this source, and the
NâtyaJâstra has inspired m any treatises oyer the centuries. ’
Scholars are not all agreed on the nature o f this early musical system which
was associated with theatrical performance. It evidently included background
music, performed b y an orchestra, w ith singers, located just o ff stage, in what
was very much like an orchestra pit. M elodies were apparently derived from
modes (jâtis) which were taken from the heptatonic serial progressions
[tnûrchhanâs) o f two closely related parent scales or tone systems, shadja-
grâma and madityamagrâma. (A third parent scale, gândhâragrâma, referred to
in several early texts, is not mentioned in the NàtyaSâstra.') These two scales
differed in the positioning o f ju st one note, which was m icrotonally flatter in
the madhyamagrâma than in the shadjagrâma. This m icrotopal difference was
referred to as th e prantânâ (‘ m easuring’) sruti, w hich presum ably served as a
standard o f measurement to determine that tbe octave consisted o f 22 srutis.
It would appear from the textual source that the srutis were o f a standard
size, or at least were thought to be so. A number o f modern scholars have,
however, argued that the srutis were in fact o f three different sizes. Fox
Strangways gives 22, 70, and 90 cents as the sizes o f the srutis. There is no
doubt, however, that one irid i was not considered a musical interval and the
seven notes o f the octave were composed o f tones having either two, three, or
four srutis. Thus, a single sruti is m ost readily seen as the highest common
factor o f tbe three different-sized tones. There has been no attempt to deter
mine the exact size o f the érutis in any o f the traditional Indian musical
treatises.
T h e concept o f vâdt, sanwâdi, vivâdt, and anuvâdi seems to have been o f
primary importance in this musical system. These terms are com parable to the
Western sonant, consonant, dissonant, and assonant, respectively. They ex
pressed-an abstract concept o f consonance and dissonance which could be
applied to specific scales or modes. A s in the G reek Pythagorean system, only
perfect fourths and fifths were considered consonant, while ‘ dissonant’ seems
to have referred to the semitone, and perhaps tbe m ajor seventh. These rela
tionships are expressed in srutis; the consonant intervals being o f either 9 or
13 srutis, the dissonant o f either 2 or 20. T he remaining tones were considered
assonant.
M usic 21J
Sh\idjf\grân\
M n d h y a m a g ro m a
fourths
' r, I
Indian notes: ,---- •----- 9---------- ,
sruti intervals (nil su ri eu ina va Jhtt ni . (su)
4 3 2 4 3 4 2 (4)
Western notes: (c) D t:- 1' G A~ li" C (d)
(approximate) 1-------— — 13----- 1
-13------------- 1
I------------------1 3 1 , f ift h s
1 — 13 1
The madhyamagrâma is, however, said to begin with ma rather than sa,
perhaps because the sa no longer has a consonant fifth. Thus, the shadjagrâma
is similar to the ‘ D ’ mode, the Ecclesiastic D orian, and the madhyamagrâma
to the ‘ G ’ mode, the Ecclesiastic M ixolydian. It w ill be seen that, apart from
the non-consonance o f the ri-pa in the shadjagrâma and the sa-pa in the
madhyamagrâma, both parent scales bave one other non-consonance, ga~dha,
an interval o f eleven srutis. This is the inevitable tritone which was described
as.dìabolus in musica (‘ the devil in m usic’) in Western plainsong. l t was very
likely that, to avoid this tritone, two altered notes were introduced into, the
ancient system— the antara ga (F # ), which was two Srutis sharper and was
thus a perfect fourth below the dha (B), and the kâkaiini (C # ), a perfect fifth
Music
above the anfora ga. These two notes m ay initially have been leading no.te
accidentals, but later-became scale notes which replaced the norm al ga arid
ni.
From each o f the two parent scales seven modal sequences (mürchhanà)
were derived, based on each o f the seven notes. Thus, there were tw o mûr-
chhanâs based on, for instance, the r i(E), one using the shadjagrdma tuning, the
other the madhyamagrâma tuning, differing from each other only in the one
iruti deviation o f the pa (A). O f each o f the seven pairs o f mürchhanàs, one
was chosen as the basis for a suddha jâ ti (‘ pu re’ mode), four o f which were in
the shadjagrdma tuning, three in the madhyamagrâma. In addition to these
seven, a further eleven vikrita jd tis (‘ m odified’ modes) were derived by the
combination o f tw o or more o f the suddha jdtis. Just how this was achieved,
however, is not indicated in the text. T h e jdtis were musical entities on wliich
compositions and, presumably, improvisations were based and must have re
sembled the modern concept o f rdga. They are described initially in terms of
ten characteristics : graha (starting note), amia (predominant notes), tara (the
note which forms the upper limit), mandra (the note which forms the lower
limit), nydsa (the final note), apanydsa (the secondary final), alpatva (notes
which are used only infrequently), bahutva (notes used frequently), shddavita
(‘ hexatonic q uality’ , i.e. the note which is omitted to make thejn//' hexatonic),
and audavita (‘ pentatonic q u ality’, i.e. the two notes which must be omitted
to make the jd ti pentatonic).
The fact that jdtis are often allocated more than one amia and in the case of
one— the jd ti shadjamadhyama— all the notes are given as amia, suggests that
these ancient jdtis had multiple possibilities and were not quite the same as the
m odern rdga. Similarly, the use o f the terms shddavita and audavita seems to
indicate that a single jd ti could be performed in either heptatonic, hexatonic,
or pentatonic form. In the modern rdga the possibilities are generally quite
limited, and although the number o f notes might vary in the ascending and
descending lines, a rdga is usually described as being just one. o f the three,
heptatonic, hexatonic, or pentatonic.
It is not clear ju st when the system o f jdtis fell into disuse, since many later
texts refer to them merely out o f reverence for Bharata, the author of. the
Nâtyasâstra. There is, however, mention in the Ndtyaidstra o f certain musical
entities, later called grdma-rdgas, which are said to be performed in the formal
stages o f Sanskrit classical drama. The connection between these and the
elaborately described system o f jdtis is not established in the Ndtyaidstra. The
grdma-rdgas, seven in number, are mentioned in the seventh-century Fallava
Kutum iyâm aiai music inscription in Tam ilnadu, in the Drihaddesi, written by
M atanga about the tenth century, and in the Sangitaratndkara by Sârngadeva,
written in thé thirteenth century a . d . In the Brihaddeiî the grdma-rdgas are
said.to have been derived from the jdtis, but the evidence seems to suggest that
they were more like the parent scales or tuning systems on which the jd tis were
based, namely the shadjagrdma and the madhyamagrâma. In fact, shadjagrdma-
rdga and madhyamagrdmardga are two o f the grdma-rdgas listed in the music
inscription. T h e other five seem to be variants in which either or both antara
and kdkall, the altered form s o f the notes ga and ni, are used. These seven
grdma-rdgas have been reconstructed as follows:
M usic 219
Madhyama-grâma-râga.
sa ri ga ma pa dba ni sa
3 2 4 3 4 2 4
D E' F G A" B- c d
Shadja-gràma-ràga.
sa ri ga ma pa dba ni sa
3 2 4 4. 3 2 4
D E" F G A B- c d
Shâdava-grâma-râga.
(a)*
sa ri ga ma pa dha ni sa
3 4 2 3 4 2 4
(a) «ad (le) refer to onfora and k& ka lt, the variant form s o f the notes ga and tit,
M atanga, the author o f the Brihaddesi, claims to be the first to discuss the
term râga in any detail. It seems quite evident that during this period râga was
only one o f several musical entities. T h e prim ary method o f classification
used by M atanga was in terms o f musical forms called giti, which appear to be
related to performance styles, not to tuning systems. F ive categories o f giti
afe discussed : iuddha, bhinna, gaudi, râga (also called vesara), and sâdhârani.
M atanga mentions five ittddha (‘ pure’) gitis which ar.e the same as five o f the
220 Afasie
The Muslim patronage o f music has had two main effects on the music of
north India. The first was to de-emphasize the importance o f the words of
classical songs, which were originally composed in Sanskrit and were, in any
case, incomprehensible, to anyone less than a traditional Hindu scholar.
Sanskrit songs were gradually replaced by compositions in various dialects
such as Bhojpuri and DakhanI, There were also compositions in Urdu and
Persian, some o f which can still be heard. The textual themes o f the songs were
often based on Hindu mythology and were o f little meaning to the Muslims,
yet Muslim musicians sang these songs, with Hindu religious themes, as they
do to jh is day. T h e reverse is also true, that Hindu musicians sometimes sing
songs dedicated to M uslim saints. Perhaps the best example o f this broad
minded attitude is to be seen in the poetry o f the M uslim ruler Ibrahim 'Âdil
Shàh II o f the Deccan, who, in his Kitâb-i-Nauras, composed at the beginning
o f the seventeenth century, wrote poems in praise o f both Hindu deities and
M uslim saints. These poems were sung in specified râgas by both Hindu and
M uslim musicians.
The second effect o f court patronage on Indian music was to produce an
atmosphere o f competition between musicians, which placed no little em
phasis on display o f virtuosity and technique. A great deal o f importance was
also placed on the creative imagination o f the performing musician and
gradually the emphasis shifted from what he was performing to how he was
performing it. Traditional themes remain the basis o f Indian music, but, in
north India particularly, it is the performer’s interpretation, Imagination, and
skill in rendering these that provide the main substance o f modern Indian
music.
Beginning about the sixteenth century, we can see a direct connection*
between tbe textual literature and modern performance practice. A n im
portant feature o f most o f these texts is that a new system o f classifying râgas
in terms o f scales was introduced. T hese scales are called mela in southTndia
and that in north India. W hile north Indian music was evolving through its
contact with the Muslims, south Indian musical theory was being thoroughly
revamped by its theoreticians. Here a basic difference o f approach becomes
evident. N orth Indian musicians were little influenced by the musical literature
written in Sanskrit because many o f them were M uslim and had no back
ground in the language. In addition, m ost Hindu musicians were unable to
understand Sanskrit, which had become a scholarly language in north India.
South India had, however, become the centre o f Hindu learning, and Sanskrit
literature continued to play an important part in the development o fits music.
Thus north Indian music seems to have developed, for the most part, quite
intuitionally during this period, and it is only in this century that musical
theory has once again begun to come to grips with performance practice and
to influence its development. In contrast, south Indian theoreticians had
established most q f the perimeters and the parameters o f the system by the
eighteenth century.This, unquestionably, retarded the rate o f ‘ natural’ evolu
tion o f south Indian music, but opened up a number o f different avenues
based on theoretical possibilities. A s a result, there are now considerable differ
ences o f detail between the tw o systems to the point where they are, to a large
extent, mutually incomprehensible..
Afasie 223
B y this time we can be sure that the old system o f twenty-two srutis was no
longer in existence in either north or south Indian music, and in both systems
the octave was composed o f twelve basic semitones. In south Indian music, a
great deal o f emphasis was placed on heptatonic scale types, melas, as a
means o f classifying râgas, and the seventeenth-century text, Chaturdandi-
prakâsikâ, lists all the possible melas which w.ould fit into the south Indian
musical system. This •jT.-melakarta system still provides the basis o f classifica
tion in south India. In the following chart are given the modern south Indian
and north Indian notes with their com parable Western notes:
l i . shatéruti dha A*
or kaiéiki ni kom al ni Bt
12. kâkalï ni éuddha ni B
In both systems, there is the underlying concept that no scale or râga m ay
use both the suddita (‘ pure’) and vikrita (‘ altered’) form s o f a note, but since
in south Indian music there are alternate names for four o f the notes, m any
more scales are possible than in north Indian music. T h e south Indian scales
are described in terms o f tetrachord types as follow s:
1. C Dt Ett F and G At B tt c
2. C Dt Et F G At Bt c
3- C D> .E F G At B c
4- C D Et F G A Bt c
5- C D E F G A B c
6. C E F G A* B c
Each o f the lower tetrachords can combine with six o f the upper tetra-
chords, which gives a total o f 36 possible scales. These 36 scales use the F ; a
further 36 scales are derived by using the F f , m aking a total o f 72. T o facili
tate the memory, these scales are both numbered and named. T he first two
224 Music
syllables o f the name, when applied in a code, give tbe number o f the scale,
and from the number it is easy to reconstruct the scale if one remembers the
six tetrachord types.
The Chaturdaiuli-prakâsikâ states clearly that only Iy o f the 72 scales were
in current use. Since then, great south Indian composers have composed
râgas in each o f these scales and they are all in the modern repertoire.
In north Indian music the first and sixth tetrachord types o f south Indian
music, which involve the E ^ and and the D 8 and A 8, would not be
acceptable because in their system these notes would be seen as D , A and
E^, B&. Thus, these tetrachords would be ‘ chrom atic’ : C D*i F , G A 1, A ' c,
C E k E" F, and G Bk B*1 c. O f the 72 south Indian scales, only 32 would be
acceptable in north India. T h e north Indian approach to scales has been quite
different. The system generally adopted in north India is that advocated by the
late Pandit V. N . Bhàtkhande, who, after spending many years o f his life
notating songs in many different râgas performed by a number o f musicians
from various parts o f the country, concluded that m ost o f the râgas in north
India belong to ten different scale types, which are called that. These had
evolved quite naturally through performance and without the influence o f
musical theory. There are about ten more scales used In north Indian music,
but there is reason to believe that all o f these represent relatively modern in
novations, some o f which are clearly derived from south India. One factor
w hich distinguishes these from Bhatkhande’s ten thâts is the fact that, whereas
there are several râgas in each o f Bhàtkhande’s thâts, the other scales are re
presented by only one râga. N ine o f Bhatkhande’s ten thâts are connected to
each other in the form o f an incomplete circle, very much like the Western
C ircle o f K eys. The basic difference is that in Indian music sa and pa (C and
G ) are not permitted modified forms, either flat or sharp. Thus, the Indian
parallel o f the key o f D, which has F 8 and C }, would be Mâroâ that which has
F 8 and D *, the last being the enharmonic form o f the C ! . T he succeeding
sharps, G 8 and D 8, would thus be A* and E*. The equivalent o f the key o f
5 sharps (i.e. with F 8, D 8, A 5, E 8, and B«) is not used in north Indian music
at the present time. The diagram on page 225 shows this circle o f thâts.
Although the circle is not complete in terms o f the modern repertoire,
there is evidence to show that the missing scale was in fact used until the last
century. The north Indian râga Tori, which had this scale, was, in the seven
teenth century, described as having four flats and would thus have been classi-
,fied in Bhairavi that o f Bhatkhande’s system. Râga Ton then evolved to the
scale missing in the circle, and is nosy classified in, arid has given its
name to, Tori that, with its three flats and one sharp. There have been many
instances o f north Indian râgas evolving one or two steps around the circle
over the past few centuries. There have, however, also been a few instances of
râgas whose scale has changed drastically, a process which cannot be ex
plained in terms o f gradual evolution. The rate o f evolution o f the râgas in
south Indian music has been slower and, as a result, the occurrence o f the
same râga name in the two systems does not always indicate the same scale
type.
Bhairav, one o f Bhatkhande’s ten thâts, is not part o f this circle, but is
nevertheless extremely important in both N orth and South Indian music. Its
Music 225
scale is the ‘ gy p sy ’ scale: C D b E F G Af* B c. The available evidence seems to
suggest that this was introduced into India from A rabic music sometime be
fore the fifteenth century. Apparently the mode was first known as Hejâz
{Hejuji in south India), and the name Bhairav seems to have been applied
later. This connects with the circle through Purvi that. T he evidence suggests
that the Bhairav scale was already popular by the fifteenth or sixteenth
century, and some o f the rdgas mentioned in the scale at that time, for in
stance in the Râgatarangmï o f Lochana, have evolved into the circle through
Purvi that. It m ay well be that the popularity o f Bhairav may have provided
the impetus which led to the com pletion o f the circle.
CIRCLE OF THXTS
KALYÂN
COEF* GA8C
There are indications in south Indian music too, that these same ten scales
m ay be the most important; but the fact that m any new rdgas have been in
vented on purely theoretical bases in the last two hundred years tends to
obscure the evidence.
M ela and that are theoretical devices for the classification o f rdgas. They
may, perhaps, be used for exercises in training students but are never heard in
performance. Rdgas may be heptatonic (sampfirnd), hexatonic (.shddavd), or
pentatonic («audava). They have certain scalar elements; for example all rdgas
have specified movements which enable the melody line o f the rdga to be
carried from one octave to another— the ascending movement being called
droha {drohana) and the descending movement, avaroha (avarohand). In con
trast to scales, however, which are stcp-by-step arrangements o f notes, rdgas
226 Music
generally involve omissions o f specific notes (varjya svara) and zigzag move
ments (vakralva), which are also usually specified. N or are râgas slaves to
scales, since accidentals are com m only used in many râgas, and in râgas such
as the north Indian Bhairavi and Pila all five accidentals are permitted. A
further distinction between scale and râga is found in the varying emphasis
placed on the different notes, which is characteristic o f each râga. In this con
nection, the term uàdi or jiva-svara refers to the m ost prominent note o f a
râga, and samvâdi to the second most prominènt note. The terms uadi and
samvâdi were used in early Indian music to refer to the sonant and the con
sonant. In modern times, however, the samvâdi is not always consonant to the
vâdi, for instance in the north Indian râga Mârvâ, where the vâdi is dha (A)
and the samvâdi re {komal) (D>), a descending augmented fifth.
Râgas, however, also have melodic elements and are generally recognized
by what are called ‘ catch ’ phrases (j/akar or raktiprayoga). M any râgas also
have characteristic ornaments associated with certain notes, and these are
further identifying features. In north Indian music one sees the beginnings o f
a different method o f râga classification based on these m elodic elements,
where a number o f râgas which have certain phrases in com m on are given
generic names, such as Kalyân, Malhâr, and Kânhrâ, with specific names
used to distinguish the various râgas within the same genus. This is, however,
a secondary means o f classification and has not been fully developed.
T o illustrate the difference between râga and scale, a musical .example
gives some characteristic phrases in six north Indian râgas which are tradi
tionally described as belonging to KJtamâj that, the ‘ G ’ mode:
Musical example 7, p. 242
Just as the system o f classifying râga is more elaborate in the south, so tocr
is the system o f classifying tâla, or time measure. Tâlas are reckoned in terms
o f angas (sections) whose duration is measured either in terms o f akshara or
mâtrâ. These two terms are derived from prosody, where they refer to the
syllable and the metrical unit respectively. In south Indian music, an akshara
is the smallest time unit, the mâtrâ being composed o f four aksharas. The main
group o f tâlas in south Indian music, called the sulâdi tâlas, has three different
angas; laghu, a variable unit consisting o f 3, 4, 5 ,7 , or 9 aksharas; druta, con
sisting o f 2 aksharas; and anudruta, which is equal to one akshara. B y taking
the different values o f laghu, each o f the seven sulâdi tâlas has five possibilities,
called jâtis. The diagram overleaf shows the tâlas and the number o f aksharas
in their five jâtis.
It will be seen that several o f these time cycles are o f the same length but are
distinguished from e^ch other by their internal subdivisions. In the course o f
a performance, the vocalist as well as members o f the audience m ay m ark the
time b y clapping, hand waving, and finger counting.
In addition to the sulâdi tâlas one m ay also hear one o f the four châpu tâlas,
said to have been derived from fo lk m usic and consisting o f two sections o f
unequal length, i.e. 3 plus 4 , 1 plus 2; 2 plus 3, and 4 plus 5. On rare occasions
one m ay also hear one o f the ‘ classical’ 108 tâlas, based on the unit o f the
mâtrâ (equal to four aksharas), which often involves a gigantic tâla cycle, such
Music 227
m ight be thought o f as a time cycle o f four beats, were it not for the fact that
the third group o f four begins with the empty beat— signalled by a w ave o f the
hand— whereas the first, second and fourth groups begin with positive stresses
which are indicated by claps. The beginning o f the first group, called sa/u
(satnam in south Indian music) is the most im portant and serves as the
point o f reference (to some extent like sa, the ground-note, in the melodic
system) and is the point where improvisations are often concluded. T h e other
stresses are called tali (claps). The following scheme shows the m ost common
talas in north Indian music. Tintala, like the south Indian Sditala, is by far the
most com m only used:
N O R T H IN D IA N T A L A S
TIN TÂ L ( TRITALA)
mâtrâ 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 1314 15 16 1
|hekâ(T) dhâ dhin dhin dhâ dhâ dhin dhin dhâ dhâ tin tic tâ tâ. dhin dhin dhâ
tâla X 0 3 I
T IL V Â R Â
mâtrâ J 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
thekâ(T) dhâ tirakita dhin dhin dhâ dhâ tin tic
tâla X
9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
tâ tirakita dhic dhin dhâ dhâ dhin dhin
o 3
 R À CH A U T L
mâtrâ 1 2 3 4 15 6 7 8 : 9 10 11 12 j 14
thekà(T) dhin tirakita dhin nâ : tu nâ ka ttâ ; tirakita dhin nà dhini
tâla X 2 io 3 io 4 !
D lP C H A N D l
mâtrâ r 2 3 4 5 6 1 j8 9 10 II 12 13 14
IhekâÇT) dhâ dhin - dhâ dhâ tin - i tâ tin - dhâ dhâ dhin -
tâla X 2 î0 3
JH Ü M R Â
mâtrâ 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
thekà(T) dhin -dhâ tirakita dhin dhin dhâge tirakita
tâla X 2
8 9 10 11 12 13' 14 j
tin -tâ tirakita dhin dhic dhâge tirakita j
0 3 I
DHAM ÂR
mâtrâ 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 : 8 9 10 I l 12 13 14
thekâ(P) ka ddhl ta dhi ta dhâ - j ka tti ta ti ta tâ -
tâla X 2 1o 3 I
EKTÂL
mâtrâ 1 2 : 3 4 S 6 17 8 9 10 11 12
IhekâÇT) dhin dhin j dhâge tirakita tu nâ j ka ttà dhâge tirakita dhin nà
tâla X ;o 2 îo 3 4 1
Music 229
CHAUTÂL
mâtrâ 1 2 3 4 5 6 Ì7 8 9 to II 12
thekâ(P) dhà dhà din tà kita dhà j dio tà tita kata gadi gina
(àia X 0 2 jo 3 4
JHAPTÀL
màtrà 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 IO
thekâ(T) dhì nà dhì dhi nà ti nà dhi dhi nà
tâla X 2 0 3
A D D H Â T lN T Â L (SITÀRJ ü IAN I)
mitra 1 2 34 5 6 7 8 !9 IO II 12 13 14 15 16
thekà(T) dhà dhio - dhà dhà dhin - dhà dhà tin - (à tà dhin - dhà
tàla X 2 0 3
KAHARVA
mâtrà 1 2 3 4 : 5 6 7 8
thekâ(T) dhà ge nâ ti i nà ka dhî nà
(àia X io
JtOPAK
màtrà I 2 3 4 . 5 6 7 . I 2 3 4 5 6 7
thekàfT) dhin dhin tirakita dhin dhin dhà tirakita or tin tin nà dhin nà dhin nà
tàla X(o) 2 3 0 2 3
DÂDRÂ
jnàtrà 1 2 3 j4 5 6
!hekâ(T) dhà dhin dhà i dhà tin nà
.tâla X i0
Râga and tâla are both independent bases for composition and improvisa
tion and m ay be heard as such in a concert. Âlâp, with which m ost Indian
classical music begins, presents the râga without reference to tâla, while the
reverse m ay be heard in the percussion instrument solo.
In general, Indian classical music is based on two movements; the first o f
these is in free time and is not accompanied by drums, and the second is in a
fixed time-measure which is introduced by a composed piece and is accom
panied by drums. It is in this second movement that râga and tâla are both
employed, since the composition involves a more or less fixed sequence o f
notes and a specific relationship with the tâla cycle. The first movement, the
âlâp or âlâpana, is, from the melodic point o f view, the most im portant o f the
performance. In the âlâp, which is completely improvised, the musician
gradually unfolds the characteristic melodic features o f the râga, in its own
natural rhythm, without the limitations o f a fixed time-measure. It is some
times described as a prelude, but may last as long as half an hour, depending
on the inclination and imagination o f the performer, and the nature o f the
audience. Within the âlâp there are several stages o f development which may
lead to a section called jo r or nom tom in north India, lânam in south India.
This is also performed without fixed time-measure. but here a distinct pulse is
introduced. In north Indian instrumental music, the jor often culminates in a
230 Music
section called jhàlâ (‘ w eb’), where the fast rhythms produced 011 the drone
strings form a kind o f lattice-work through which the melody line weaves. A t
the conclusion o f the âlàp there is often a short pause, when instruments are
retuned before the composition is introduced and the second movement
commences.
There are a number o f types o f compositions in north and south Indian
music. Each o f these types has implications, concerning not only the form o f
the composition, but also its stylistic treatment, such as the nature and amount
o f improvisation to be used, and the kind o f ornaments which are considered
suitable to the particular form . The form may also have the implication o f
over-all m ood and be associated with certain râgas and tâlas. T he com posi
tion is rarely an end in itself and one o f its very important functions is to pro
vide a frame o f reference to which the performer returns at the end o f each set
o f improvisations. The length o f the composition and the emphasis placed
upon it vary from one form to another and may also be influenced by the
personal inclination o f the performer. In general, however, the compositions
are much shorter than in Western music, and, in extreme cases, may last only
two cycles o f the time-measure.
In south Indian music there are no purely instrumental compositions,
whereas in the north Indian system there is a form , called gat, derived from
plucked stringed instrumental technique, and another, called dlum— said to be
derived from folk tunes— neither o f which has text. In both systems, however,
pride o f place must be given to the voice, not only because it can express ideas
through words, but also because o f its versatility as a musical instrument. It is
able to glide sm oothly from one pitch to another (portamento), to produce
staccato effects through the use o f stop consonants, and to change timbre by
■using different vowels, nasalization, etc. Instrumental technique is. naturally
much influenced by the voice, but the exchange is not entirely one-way and
certain ornaments and techniques used by the voice can be traced to the in
fluence o f instruments.
The vocal form referred to as râgam-lânam-pallavi is generally (he main
item at a south Indian concert. T he term râgam refers here to an elaborately
improvised âlâpana in completely free time. This is followed b y'th e more
rhythm ic tânam which is still unmeasured. The final section, aditi'pattavi, is
a composition o f words and m elody set in a particular tâla, often a long-and
complex one. The com position m ay be either traditional or have been com
posed by the performer himself, and be unfamiliar to his accompanists, the
violinist and the mridangam player. T he statement o f the composition is
followed by elaborate rhythmic and m elodic variations, still using the text o f
thepattavi. Then passages, called svara kalpana, using the Indian equivalent o f
the sol-fa syllables, are substituted for parts o f the original composition and
the pollavi serves as a point o f return at the conclusion o f each improvisation.
It is customary for this section to be followed by a drum solo and thé per
form ance concludes With a brief restatement o f the pattavi.
T he râgam-tânam-pallavi is the longest item in a recital o f south Indian
music and may take an hour or more to perform. It makes the greatest de
mands on the performer’s skill and imagination, as well as on the audience,
who, in order to appreciate the performance to its fullest, need to be well
M i/s ic 231
versed in the technicalities oF south Indian music. It is not surprising, there
fore, that this is not the m ost popular form o f south Indian music. The klrtana
or kriti— a devotional song which provides a delicate blend o f elements— text,
melody, and rhythm, is unquestionably the most popular form . T h e m ajor
part o f the modern repertoire o f kriti stems from three composers, T yâgarâja,
Muttuswàmî D ikshitar, and S>yâmasâstrî, w ho lived in the late eighteenth and
early nineteenth centuries. T h e kriti m ay be preceded by an âlâpana, which is
generally shorter and less elaborate than that w hich precedes the pollavi. T h e
kriti has three sections, called pollavi, antipailavi, and charanam, each o f which
is generally composed o f more than one line o f devotional poetry. Consider
able importance is placed on the com position and the perform er’s interpreta
tion, but there is also room for the performer to im provise new m elodic
variations using the song text (called niraval) as well as to im provise passages
(called svara kalpana) using the Indian sargam (sol-fa) syllables.
Other forms, derived from the musical repertoire o f Bharata Nâtyam, the
classical south Indian dance, are also heard in south Indian concerts. The
vamam, a completely composed piece, designed to sho.w a râga in its m ost pure
and complete form, is often performed at the beginning o f a concert. Pada and
javali are two kinds o f love-song using poetic imagery characteristic o f the
bhakti movement, o f which more will be said later. T he form tillânâ has a text
composed o f meaningless syllables, which m ay include the onom atopoeic
syllables used to represent the different drum sounds. T he tillânâ is very
rhythmic and is usually sung in fast tempo.
The ensemble used in south Indian music includes a m ain m elody instru
ment or Yoice, a secondary melody instrument, one or m ore rhythm ic per
cussion instruments, and drone instruments. A p art from the voice, the m ost
com m only heard main m elody instruments are: viw , a long-necked, fretted,
plucked lute with seven strings; venu, the side-blown bam boo flute, usually
with eight finger holes; nâgasvaram, a long oboe-like double-reed instrument
with finger holes; violin, originally imported from the W est, played while
seated on the floor, with the scroll resting on the player’s fo o t; and gotlu-
vâdyam, a long-necked lute without frets, played like the H aw aiian guitar,
with a sliding stop in the left hand.
The violin is b y far the m ost com m only heard secondary m elody instrument
in south Indian music, and accompanies the voice and other m elody instru
ments, except the nâgasvaram. It plays in unison where the passage is com
posed, but imitates, with a slight time lag, the main melody instrum ent in the
improvised passages. It is quite usual, during the course o f a perform ance, fo r
the main m elody instrument to cease at certain points, when the violin tem
porarily takes its role.
O f the rhythm ic percussion instruments, the double-conical tw o-faced
drum, called mridangam, is the m ost com m only heard. T h e percussion group
m ay also include the kanjtrâ, a tambourine, the ghatam, an earthenware pot
without skin covering, and the morsing, a m etallic jew s’ harp. A special tw o
faced drum, called iavil— slightly barrel-shaped in appearance— usually
accompanies the nâgasvaram.
T he most prominent drone instrument is the four-stringed tambiird, a
long-necked lute without frets. The nâgasvaram is traditionally accompanied
232 Music
by the ôttu, a very long version o f the nâgasoaram, generally without linger
holes. Sometimes, a hand-pumped harmonium drone, called sruti (or sruti
box) replaces the ottu or the tamburo.
N orth Indian vocal form s have m any points o f similarity with south Indian
forms. T he dhrupad-dhamar form , which has been out o f favour for more than
a hundred years, is generally preceded by âlàp and nom-tom, which are very
much like the râgam and tânam which precede thepollavi. The m ore rhythmic
nom-tom derives its name from the use o f meaningless syllables such as te, re,
nâ, nom, and tom. T h e âlâp and nom-tom are completely improvised and are
foilow ed by the four composed sections o f the dhrupad, which is generally
performed in slow or medium tempo. T h e sections are called sthâyî, antarà,
sanchâri, and âbhog, each consisting o f one or more lines o f poetry. They are
usually first sung as com posed, then the performer introduces variations, the
words often being distorted and serving merely as a vehicle for the melodic
and rhythm ic improvisations. These improvisations generally focus on the
rhythm ic elements, and melismatic passages are seldom employed. There are
signs that the archaic dhrupad form is at present undergoing a period of
revival.
The most popular form o f vocal music in north India is the khyâl, a Muslim
word meaning 'th o u g h t' or ‘ im agination’. This is in contrast to dhrupad,
which means ‘ fixed w ord s’ . T h e kliyâl is much less word-bound; not only is
the text much shorter, having only two parts— sthâyî and antarà.— but even
these are not always sung in their entirety. There are two types o f khyâl, barò
(‘ b ig ’) khyâl and chhotâ (‘ sm all’) khyâl, -sometimes also referred to as vilambit
(‘ slo w ’) and drut (‘ fa st’), respectively. The barâ khyâl is sometimes sung in
extremely slow tempo, where each unit (mâtrâ) o f the time-measure might
last as long as 4 or 5 seconds, and one whole cycle o f the tâla as long as a
minute. In this slow tempo each syllable o f the text o f the song is sung with
such extensive melisma that the words are’ virtually unrecognizable. It is also
quite common for musicians to ignore the words, except for the short phrase,
called mukhrd (‘ fa ce ’), which concludes the line and leads to the first beat of
the next tâla cycle. The barâ khyâl is not generally preceded by a lengthy âlâp ;
instead, freely improvised âlâp-type phrases m ay occupy the m ajor part of
each time cycle, concluding with the mukhrâ. Three basic types o f improvisa
tions are used in the khyâl: bol tâns, melismatic treatment o f the words o f the
song; â-kâr tâns, fast runs to the syllable à ; and sargam tâns, runs using the
Indian sargam syllables. In the barâ khyâl the improvisations gradually get
more ornate and more rhythmic, finally concluding with tbe rapid ârkâr tâns
which are limited to the khyâl form .
There is no sej^ronclusion to the barâ khyâl. A t an appropriate moment the
singer changes, with or without pause, to the chhotâ khyâl, w hich m ay well
begin in a tempo eight times that o f the barâ khyâl, and accelerate to a climax.
T he main feature o f the improvisations here are the â-kar tâns, so characteris
tic o f the kltyâl form.
Thumri is another popular form o f north Indian vocal music. Its basis is the
romantic-religious literature inspired by the bhakti movement, and the text of
songs is o f primary importance. In contrast- with the khyâl, the thumri is a
much more interpretative form , where the singer attempts to describe and in-
Music 233
(erprct the words in terms o f melody. It is usually sung in fairly slow tempo
and is not preceded by a lengthy ô/âp. T h e singer first sings a line o f the song,
more or less as composed, then repeats the line m any times, each time with
different melodic improvisations. When he has exhausted the m elodic possi
bilities, he will go on to the next line. In his improvisations he generally ad
heres to the words o f the song, but has considerable melodic freedom. It is
quite usual for a singer to deviate momentarily from the râga in which the
composition is set by using accidentals, as well as to evoke other râgas which
might be suggested by the words. When the song is completed, there m ay be a
short section in double tempo, followed by a return to the original tempo, and
then the song is either repeated or concluded with a repeat o f the first line.
O f the other fornis.used in north Indian vocal music, the tarano, similar to
the south Indian tilmàâ, is probably the best-known. It is usually sung in fast
tempo and uses meaningless syllables. T he tarânâ is generally sung afterthe
barâ khyâl in place of-the chhotâ khyâl.
Instrumental music lias gained considerable prominence in recent years.
The most common instrumental form in north Indian music is the gat, a
purely instrumental com position which seems to have derived its elements
from both dhrupad and khyâl. It is usually preceded by âlâp, jor, and jhâlâ.
The gat section usually begins in slow tempo (viiambita lay), like the barâ
khyâl, and is generally followed by a gat in fast tempo (dnita lay), com par
able to the chhotâ khyâl. T h e final climax (Jhâlâ) on stringed instruments is
achieved by the rhythmic plucking o f the drone strings at a greatly increased
tempo. Other forms played on instruments are the thumri and the dhun. The
latter imposes few restrictions on the musician, and does not necessarily follow
a specific râga. Occasionally, one may hear a piece called râgamâiâ (lit. ‘ a
garland o f râgas’). This m ay be played as âlâp or in tâla. The main feature here
is the gradual modulation from one râga to another, finally concluding with a
return to the original râga.
*; The north Indian ensemble varies in its constitution from vocal to instru
mental music. It is .now becom ing increasingly common to hear two main
melody instruments or two singers, w ho generally improvise alternately. The
most frequently heard main melody instruments are: sitâr, a long-necked
fretted lute; surbahâr, a larger version o f the sitâr', sarod, a plucked lute, with
out frets and with a shorter neck than that o f the sitâr ; sârangi, a short-necked,
bowed lute; bâmsri, a side-blown bam boo flute with finger holes; shahnâî, a
double-reed wind instrument, similar to the oboe, but without keys; and the
violin, played in the same manner as its south Indian counterpart. The
secondary m elody line is very important in vocal m^sic, but is not generally
used in instrumental music. The most common secondary instruments are the
sârangi and the hand-pumped harmonium, a keyboard instrument which-was
imported from the West at the end o f the last century. Another secondary
melody instrument often used, especially by Muslim singers, is the surmandal,
a-plucked board zither. On occasions, all three secondary instruments m ay be
irsed at the same time. The most com m only heard drone instrument is the
tambürâ, or tânpûrâ, which has either four or five strings. It is a plucked long
necked lute, similar to the south Indian tambürâ but differing slightly in
appearance. The drone m ay also be produced on the sur-peti, an instrument
234 Music
tribe to another, although it seems likely that they represent a com m on tradi
tion.
Songs in a tribal society are mostly functional and often have tbe sanctity o f
a ceremonial rite. Such are, for instance, the songs which accom pany the events
o f the life-cycle— birth, initiation, marriage, and death. Similarly, the agri
cultural songs which accom pany the burning and preparation o f the fields,
planting, transplanting, harvesting, etc., have an element o f ritual associated
with them, and there is often a real fear that the harvest m ay not prove fruitful
unless great care is taken over the formalities. A lthough mâny o f the tribes
practise this ‘ slash and burn ’ method o f cultivation, there are still tribes
which are in the hunting and food-gathering stage. Some o f these have songs
to propitiate their deities, in the belief that this will ensure the success o f their
ventures, and songs to give thanks at the successful conclusion o f the hunt.
When things go wrong, in times o f disease, drought, or shortage o f food, the
tribal shaman is often invoked, and he generally has his own repertoire o f
songs.
M ost tribes do, however, have more or less secular songs, such as greeting
songs, lullabies, love and courtship songs, ballads, and hum orous songs. On
the occasion o f certain festivals and celebrations, members o f the tribes m ay
dance and.sing for the pure jo y o f it. O n such occasions, one m ay also hear
songs describing their ancestry and the origin o f the tribe.
Some o f these songs might well be completely unaccom panied, or accom
panied by just a drum. Sometimes the male musicians play one-stringed, long
necked lutes, which provide a drone. Certain tribes, however, have stringed
melody instruments, either a small fiddle or a stick zither w ith attached re
sonators, and these may be used to accom pany the songs. This stick zither
may well have been the prototype o f the vînâ depicted in miniature paintings
during the M uslim period. T he modern stick zither, rudra vînâ, occasionally
used in north Indian classical music, still resembles the tribal instrument, but
is much larger and o f more elegant construction.
The folk m usic o f non-tribal India is a vast subject which has not yet
been adequately studied. There are, however, some points o f similarity with
tribal music, especially in the context o f occurrence. V illage songs, like many
tribal songs, are often associated with the cycles connected with life and death,
agriculture and the seasons'. T h e songs vary in detail, not only from one region
to another, but also within a region am ong the différent strata o f society. A
further parallel can be found in the use o f the ‘ ou td o or’ ensemble which p ro
vides festival music and is played at weddings and fuherals. This ensemble is
generally m uch like its tribal counterpart, w ith the oboe-like instrument
(called shahnâî in north India, nâgasoaram in.the south), long brass or bronze
horns (usually called turhi or karnâ), a variety o f drurhs, such as kettle-drums
(nagâra) played in pairs with sticks, and the cylindrical or slightly barrel
shaped double-headed drum (diioiak), and one or more pairs o f cym bals,
generally made o f bell-mefal (jhanjh). Similar ensembles arc also found in the
cities.
The distinction between tribal m usic and folk music is.n ot always clearly
defined. N ettle proposes that folk music is an oral tradition found in those
areas which are dominated by high cultures, having a body o f cultivated
236 Music
occasions when qawwâh have been invited to sing at Hindu religious functions.
On such occasions the qawwâi may sing songs composed by K abir and others,
where the basic theme is generally that there is only one G od, whether he is
called R im or Rahim ('T h e Merciful*, an epithet o f Allah), and that all
m ystic paths lead to the realization o f the One.
Ghazais are another form o f song sung by qawwâh. These are derived from
an U rdù poetic form o f the same name, composed o f independent couplets.
This is essentially love or erotic poetry; underlying it, however, are the themes
o f the S ü fl mystics, for whom G od is the beloved. The verses o f the ghazal are
open to a number o f different interpretations; secular, mystical, and philo
sophical. M odern poets have sometimes used this form for social and political
comment as well. Thus a traditional theme, such as a moth sacrificing itselfin
the flame o f a candle, could be interpreted as depicting the intensity o f human
love, divine love, or even the spirit o f patriotism. The ghazal form has achieved
a great deal o f popularity in the northern part o f the subcontinent, and special
meetings, called musha'ara, are held expressly to enable poets to sing or recite
their poems.
MODERN DEVELOPMENTS
however, Deeded to suit the plot and action in the films and gradually new in
strumentation and techniques were introduced. T h e influence o f Western
music was delayed, partly by the fact that India had no indigenous tradition
o f orchestral music, which involves lengthy com positions and accurate per
form ance from notation— neither o f which were part o f the training o f the
traditional Indian musician. There was also the lack o f experience with har
m ony, counterpoint, and orchestration, techniques which the W est had
gradually developed over a period o f several hundred years.
; It must also be mentioned that music based on harm ony and counterpoint
is, generally; not meaningful to the Indian ear, which is accustom ed to listen
ing 'h orizo n tally’ to the subtleties o f m elody and rhythm. T hu s Western
tunes based on the logic o f harmony were not immediately acceptable. In its
early stages, the instruments o f the orchestra were used in unison, with only
occasional experiments with-sim ple polyphony. T h e main function o f the
orchestra was to provide dynam ic contrasts, and, by using different instru
ments, to vary the timbre o f the melody line. In the course o f time, however,
there has been increasing use o f polyphony and there have been m any attempts
to add harm ony to Indian melodies. From the W estern standpoint these m ay
sound naïve, and the chord progressions haphazard, since the melodies were
not conceived harmonically. From the Indian p o in t o f view, however, the
melody supplies the logic fo r the harmonies, and the use o f harm ony adds a
new facet to Indian music. In film songs, the m elody generally retains its
Indian character and the singer .often uses traditional vocal ornaments, a l
though the accom panying orchestra shows a great deal o f Western influence
and m ay include Western instruments o f all types. Recently, Western popular
music, w ith its lively rhythms, simple harmonic structure, and emphasis o d
tune, has had a considerable influence on Indian film music.
Indian musicologists are generally unable to come to grips with these Dew
trends and are apt to condemn them out o f hand. This attitude is reflected in
the policy o f A ll India R adio, a government-controlled organization, which
has sought to emphasize classical music. F o r a num ber o f years, film music
was not broadcast on A ll India Radio. This policy was modified when it was
discovered that A .I.R . was losing m any listeners to the com m ercially con
trolled R adio Ceylon, which was presenting film m usic virtually all day. It is
true that much film music is trite, and that some o f the experiments are OYer-
indulgent, but these are necessary stages in the developm ent o f a new tradi
tion. In the meanwhile, the popularity o f film music is on the increase— some
times to the detriment o f age-old music traditions— and there is a growing
audience fo r Indian film m usic in m any parts o f South-East A sia, the M iddle
East, and in Africa.
The policy o f A ll India Radio has been to attempt to raise the cultural,
artistic, and m oral standards o f the people o f India. It is not only film music
which has com e under criticism, but certain aspects o f classical music, for
example the use o f the Western-imported harmonium as an accom panying
instrument for Indian music. In spite o f the fact that this is one o f the most
widespread instruments in India, and that north Indian classical singers have
b'een using it for at least forty years, it has been banned from the radio on the
grounds that its more or less tempered tuning does not lend itself to- the
240 Music
subtleties o f Indian intonation. Since this chapter was first written, A ll India
Radio has changed this policy.
A ll India Radio has not been entirely against experimentation. One o f their
projects, the A ll India Radio Orchestra, composed o f seventy or m ore in
struments— som e o f them being from the West— is devoted to the production
o f serious orchestral music, based on Indian râgas and talas. Some interesting
ideas have emerged from these experiments, but they have not yet succeeded
in creating any great impact on the Indian music scene.
E x. /.
a - sy i tri - ( • ) ■* p a { ja m v ii • p a • tim ia - p i a - p u - tr a m
1f - - - - - -
{yam vii pa - tim »a - pta-pu-fam
E x. J.
ju no W ia -v a * Ivi • m ira Ci * Il
Music
Ex. 4.
n i •1 ba • a “ • 4 «u ho
Ex. 5.
ho vi hi b{ - \ì
Ex. 6.
hi .VX i
242 Music
Ex. 7.
tòga fjtamdj
PAR T TW O
T H E A G E O F M U S L IM D O M IN A N C E
C H A P T E R X V II
.-Muslims believe M uham m ad (d. 632) to be the last o f the prophets. H e not
only preached a new faith, known as Islam and based on a fresh divine re-
.velation embodied in the Qur’an, but also transformed the asabiyah, the proud
narrow tribal traditions o f the A rabs, into a social solidarity and military
strength which conquered and colonized a large part o f the world. His first
four ‘ successors’ (Khalifa) are know n as the Kliulafâ-i-Râshidün (‘ Pious
C aliphs’). A b u B akr (632-4) and ‘ U m ar (634-44) seized Syria, Iraq, m ost o f
Iran, Egypt, Tripolis, and Barqah. T o call this remarkable expansion an easy
walk-over for the new faith is to ignore the m any factors weakening the
Byzantine atid Sâsânian empires, and the able leadership o f the victors.
T he early M uslim s founded several new garrison towns which became both
centres o f their expanded commercial activity and military bases for further
incursions. Political power added a new dimension to tribal rivalries and con
flicts. The reign o f ‘AH (656-61), the last o f the Khiilafâ-i-Râshidiïn, saw a
period o f bitter civil war, leading to the establishment o f the hereditary cali
phate o f the Um aiyâds (661-750) at Damascus.
T he second wave o f expansion commenced under Hajjâj, appointed by the
U m aiyàd Caliph ‘A b d u ’l M alik (685-705), governor o f Iraq and Khurâsân.
Under H ajjàj’s brilliant guidance and careful planning, his tw o enterprising
generals Qutaybah bin M uslim and M uham m ad bin-Qâsim m ade successful
-dashes into Transoxiana and Sind.
M uhammad bin Qâsim marched with 15,000 men, and appeared before
Debal in 711 ; his artillery, consisting o f huge balUstae, was sent by sea to meet'
him. Sind was then ruled b y a brahman king, R âjà Dâhir, whose ancestors
had snatched the throne from the Buddhist rulers. D ebal, a commercial p o rt1
near m odem Karachi, was easily seized, but in fierce fighting at A ro r north o f
Hyderabad, D àh ir himself fell in June 712. A ror surrendered, and early next
year M ultan was also conquered. In 714 Hajjâj died; and in 715 the caliph
Walïd I (705-15), w ho had taken a keen interest in the conquests. T he new
government recalled Muhammad bin Qâsim, delivering a mortal blow to the
progress o f the Arab conquests. M an y local chieftains repudiated their A ra b
allegiance; 'U m ar II (717-20) sought to allow them to rule as tributaries on
the promise o f accepting Islam. This policy failed. Junaid, another enterpris
ing governor, tried to seize both K acch (Kutch) and M àlwâ, but the Pratihâra
and G urjara kings foiled him. Sind, continued to be ruled b y the U m aiyâd
governors but the actual administration remained in the hands o f the, local
chiefs, both Hindus and converts to Islam. In the wake o f the disintegration o f
Um aiyàd power and the establishment o f the ‘Abbàsid caliphate in Baghdad
(750-1258), th e ’hold o f the central authority on Multan and Sind became
246 The Muslim Ruling Dynasties
No, not for Paradise didst thou the nomad life forsake.
Rather, I believe, it was thy yearning after bread and dates.
M u 'izzu ’d-Dîn, unlike M ahm ud, wished to extend his rule beyond Sind and
the Panjâb. U nlike M ahm ud, he had no duties in the west; Khurasan was his
brother’s territory; so he had leisure to devote his exclusive attention to India.
T he problem o f leadership and incentive was solved by the institutions o f
slavery and iqtâ', which for the last 300 years had been at once a cohesive and
a dissolving power for the T urkic dominion in Central Asia and G h a zn i.
T he 'A bbasids recruited T urkic slaves as a counterpoise to their A rab and
K hurâsânl contingents, but the T urkic ruling dynasties o f the Iranian world,
nearer the source o f supply, made them the backbone o f their power. The
Turkic slaves o f the Ghürlds did not always co-operate with the local troops,
but the slaves o f M u'izzu ’d-DIn were infinitely loyal to their master. Promis
ing boys, seized in war or purchased by the affluent governing classes, were
often trained in an atmosphere o f rare intellectual and military_distinction.
U nder the Ghaznavids and Ghürlds, such talented slaves started their careers
in the service o f the Sultans in such posts as keeper o f the stables, keeper o f
the wardrobe, keeper o f the Sultan’s arm our or weapons, or bearer o f the
ceremonial parasol, and steadily rose to posts o f military and administrative
eminence.
Iqtâ' was the system o f granting the revenue o f a specified area in lieu of
salary. It was prevalent in the 'Abbàsid period, but gained a special signific
ance in Iran, where the dihqâns, or village chiefs, whose power came from
their hereditary possession o f local administrative functions, controlled the
administration o f the villages. Under the Sàsânids (226-652) they had been
subordinate to the feudal lords. A fter the conquest o f Iran by the Arabs they
became the link between the local subjects and the foreign government, which
adopted as the system o f land-tax muqâta'â (assessment at a lump sum, pay
able according to the lunar year), in contradistinction to assessment by
measurement (misâhâ) and assessment by a share o f the crop (nniqâsainà),
payable according to the solar year. The areas so assessed, styled iqtâ', began
from the tenth century to be given to military leaders. Charged with the con
solidation o f their fiefs, they were also allowed to extend them; they were
military bureaucrats, rather than feudal lords. Adm inistration was effected by
officials recruited and controlled by them, known as 'âmils.
The Ghaznavids generally paid their military in cash, food, and clothing,
which spoils o f Indian temples made easy. In the Panjâb, local thâkurs and
sâmantas, counterparts of the Irani dihqâns, became the link between the new
rulers and their subjects, while the iqtâ' holders replaced the feudal lords and
their sub-feudatories. The forts and castles o f the feudatory chiefs became
garrison towns o f the Ghaznavids, but Lâbore remained more open, becom-
' ' --..-j ...I— , „ „ri,h a Muslim mercantile
The Muslim Ruling Dynasties 249
community which, even before the Ghürîd conquest, had established contacts
with the courts o f the Rajput rulers o f Gujarat, Ajm er, and Kanauj.
The second battle o f Tarâin is regarded as a landmark in the history o f the
Turkic expansion, for it shattered the Châham âna power from Panjâb to
Ajmer. Som e feudatory chieftains were allowed to continue ruling as tribu
taries. Before leaving India, M u'izzu’d-DIn M uham m ad appointed Qutbu’d-
D ln À ib ak to act as his deputy. A n occupation army was stationed at Indra-
prastha near Delhi, which seized Baran (Bulandshahr) and M eerut and then
occupied Rantham bhor and Ajmer, garrisoning all the forts there.
, In 1194 M u'izzu’d-Din returned to India, to crush the Gâbadavâla power;
Jai Chand, the ruler o f K anauj and Banàras, fought valiantly, and lost, at
Chandvâr (between K anauj and Etâwah). T he Turks established garrison
towns up to Banâras and Asm . In 1195-6 M u ‘izzu’d-DIn again came to India
and penetrated south to Bayàna and G w alior. A ll the key points were given as
iqtâ* to Turkic slaves. Control and consolidation depended upon their ability
and resourcefulness.
T h e expansion o f Turkic power from Munér and Bihâr to Bengal was the
achievement o f Bakhtiyâr K halji, who like many T u rkic chiefs rose to emi
nence by sheer merit. He seized N adia in lower Bengal by an adventurous
stratagem, but selected LakhnautI, easily accessible from Bihâr, as his seat o f
government; stations were established at Lakhanor (N agar in Birbhum dis
trict) and D evakot. The next move o f Bakhtiyâr K h a lji was against Tibet, to
open a direct route to Turkistàn, and ensure a continued supply o f arms and
men from that region instead o f being dependent upon Delhi. This expedition
failed; in 1206 he was brought back to D evakot half-dead, and was treacher
ously killed by his own lieutenant, ‘A l! Mardân K halji.
Meanwhile the uprising o f the K hokars in the Panjab cut the Lâhore-
Ghazni route and brought Sultan M u ‘Izzu’d-Din once more to India. He
crushed the uprising, but on his way back to G hazni was slain at D am yak, on
the banks o f the Indus, by some unidentified assassin, either an Ismâ'Ilî or a
Khokar.
The record o f his Indian conquests was brilliant, but he was able to crush
only the leading centres o f Rajput power. Ràjput feudatory chiefs occupying
rough inaccessible areas remained a constant source o f trouble to the Delhi
sultans. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, strategic posts from
G w alior to Râjputàna were conquered and reconquered several times, but
always became independent again. In the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the
emergence o f the provincial Muslim and Hindu dynasties made Delhi only a
small regional power.
M u'izzu’d-Din Muhammad had no sons; even if he had, the question o f
succession could not have remained undisputed. T he Um aiyàds and the
'A bbasids had followed the principle o f hereditary succession, but, with the
rise o f slaves wielding m ilitary and administrative power on their masters’ be
half, the tradition changed. It was now ability to rule and qualities o f leader
ship which decided the succession, and scholars and chroniclers soon found
some legal justification for accomplished facts.
A fter the death o f M u'izzu’d-Din the battle for succession was fought by
his slaves and sons-in-law. Qutbu’d-DIn A ibak had been his deputy for his
250 The Muslim Muling Dynasties
Indian conquests, but Bakhtiyâr Khaljl, after gaining power in Bihar and
Bengal, had begun to consider himself independent o f A ib ak and directly
under M u'izzu’d-Din. The successor o f Ghiyâsu’d-Dïn o f Ghür, who had
died in 1202-.3, recognized T â ju ’d-Dïn Y a ld u z as the ruler o f G hazni and gave
him a deed o f manumission. This enhanced his legal rights and he began to
struggle for supremacy over A ibak. The other strong claimant was Nâsiru’d-
D în Qabâcha in Multân, but the chief contenders for the Indian possessions
were A ib ak and Y ald uz. A ib ak transferred his capital to Lahore, gained some
successes over Y ald uz, but died in 1210, leaving the succession to be disputed
again between his son Âràm Shâh and the slave Iltutmish. M inhâj Siràj, the
author o f the Tabàqât-i-Nâsirï, .claims that A ibak, in accordance with, his
master’s orders, manumitted Iltutmish, but this seems a fiction. Neither Aibak
himself nor his rivals were manumitted by M u'izzu’d-Din.
Âràm Shâh was soon replaced by Iltutmish, who enjoyed the support of
most o f the iqtâ'dàrs, conciliated by promotion. He made D elhi his capital,
and tightened his control over the areas extending from the Satlaj to Banâras.
He let Yald uz and Qabâcha fight for the Panjâb, and bear the brunt o f fighting
first with Muhammad Shâh the Khvarizm Shâhï ruler o f modern K hiva, and
then with the M ongol Chingiz K hân. In 1215 he defeated Y ald u z, by then a
fugitive in the Panjâb, and in 1228 Qabâcha, already prostrated by the struggle
against the M ongols. In February 1229 the 'Abbàsid caliph recognized Iltut
mish as Sultan, added the feather o f legitimacy to his cap, and-enhanced his
prestige in the eyes o f the ’ ulama’ (M uslim theologians and scholars), the civil
bureaucracy and the sQfis, w ho along with the iqtâ'dàrs formed important
pressure groups. .
The Sultan gave asylum to a considerable number o f talented scholars,
statesmen, and generals driven into exile before the onrushing M ongol hordes,
and employed them to strengthen his central government, modelled on the
administrative institutions o f the great SaljQq sultans o f Iran; however, the
core o f his strength was still the Turkic slaves whom he himself had purchased,
trained, and promoted to offices o f trust and responsibility. T hey held high
posts at Court, and some o f them controlled iqtà's o f vital importance. Minhâj
Sirâj gives short biographies o f twenty-five o f lltutm ish’s nobles (»iaiiks)l only
tw o o f whom had been slaves o f M u'izzu’ d-Din Muhammad. Although.they
included members o f several tribes, such as the K h itâ’î, Qipchâq, and Ilbari,
and men from M esopotam ia and Anatolia, prudent management by Iltutmish
kept racial rivalries and ambitions subdued. A class o f petty m ilitary chieftains,
described as iqtâ'dàrs by the historian Baranl, the author o f Târikh i-Elrûz
Shâhl, but clearly distinguishable from the governors or waits (whose extensive
iqtà’s approximated to the provincial sub-divisions o f the present, day), was
also evolved by Iltutmish. T hey numbered about 2,000 and constituted the
nucleus o f the central standing army.
This gave Iltutmish better success in controlling the region tò the west o f
D elhi as far as the Satlaj ; but his hold in the east o f the Haoàìi-i-.Dihli (bf the
region bounded on the east by the Yam unâ, and on the north by the forests
at the foot o f the Siwâliks) was very precarious. W e find the Sultan’s eldest
son, the energetic Prince Nâsiru’d-Dln M ahm üd, as governor o f Avadh
waging incessant war against the Hindu tribes struggling for independence.
250 The Muslim Ruling Dynasties 7 The Muslim Riding Dynasties 251
Indian conquests, but Bakhtiyâr Khaljl, after gaining power in Bihâr and j|j>- Bartü, one o f these chiefs, slew about 120,000 Muslims; this number, if not
Bengal, had begun to consider himself independent o f A ibak and directly It exaggerated, might exceed the casualties at Tarain,
under M uhzzu’d-Din. The successor o f Ghiyasu’d-Din o f Ghür, who had T Between 1224 and 1229, three major expeditions liquidated the K halji
died in 1202-3, recognized T âju’d-DIn YaId 112 as the ruler o f G hazni and gave gig-pow er in Bengal. Prince N asiru’d-Din Mahmüd died prematurely in Lakh-
him a deed o f manumission. This enhanced his legal rights and he began to §f|&* nauti, and the future governors o f Bengal admitted the suzerainty o f Delhi
struggle for supremacy over Aibak. The other strong claimant was Nàsiru’d- l l ^ o n i y nominally. In the areas south o f the river Cham bal and in Râjputàna, the
D ïn Qabâcha in M ultân, but the chief contenders for the Indian possessions gjH Parihàras, the Chàhamànas, the Yaduvam éïs, and the Guhilots repudiated
were A ibak and Yalduz. A ib ak transferred his capital to Lahore, gained some their vassalage several times, and the Muslim garrison towns o f G w alior,
successes over Yalduz, hut died in 1210, leaving the succession to be disputed J|p;Bayana, Thângir, and Ajm er were more than once cut off from one another.
again between his son Ârâm Shah and the slave Iltutmish. M iahâj Siràj, the ||||J iy e n the regions round Badâün, and Bareilly were not safe and the K ati-
author o f the Tabâqât-i-Nâsirî, .claims that Aibak, in' accordance with his gggiyhariya Rajputs at A onla were formidable.
master’s orders, manumitted Iltutmish, but this seems a fiction. Neither Aibak When Iltutmish died o f cancer in 1235, the Rajputs were still fighting for
himself nor his rivals were manumitted by M uhzzu’d-Dln. . | | | f independence in their respective regions. Y e t his achievements were by no
Ârâm Shâh was soon replaced by Iltutmish, who enjoyed the support of |g||:m eans insignificant. He gave an independent status to the' D elhi sultanate,
m ost o f the iqta'dârs, conciliated by promotion. He made Delhi his capital, ^ ( o b ta in e d legal recognition for it, and made it possible for his sons and
and tightened his control over the areas extending from the Satlaj to Banâras. | | | daughters to rule until 1266. His daughter, Raziya (1236-40), was endowed
He let Y ald u z and Qabàcha fight for the Panjâb, and bear the hrunt o f fighting fe ^ w ith considerable tact and qualities ofleadership. She tried to play dominant
first with Muhammad Shâh the Khvarizm Shâhï ruler o f modern Khiva, and groups o f the T u rkic slaves o f Iltutmish against one another, but failed, was
then with the M ongol Chingiz Khan. In 1215 he defeated Y ald u z, by then a |g |; deposed, and killed. The fourteenth-century historian, Z iyâu’ d-Dïn Baranl,
fugitive in the Panjâb, and in 1228 Qahâcha, already prostrated by the struggle jjjjl speaks o f a group o f forty (Chihalgdnt) who dominated affairs. ‘ The F o r ty ’
against the M ongols. In February 1229 the 'Abbasid caliph recognized Jltut- ;|j|‘ have passed into legend, even though it is probable that the number was
mish as Sultan, added the feather o f legitimacy to his cap, and-enhanced his ascribed to them by Baranl merely because o f its traditional mystical value.
prestige in the eyes o f the 'ulama* (Muslim theologians and scholars), the ctvil |g i. Their number was probably fewer. These men controlled different strategic-
bureaucracy and the süfïs, who along with the iqta'dârs formed important garrisons, and concentrated as much power as possible in their own hands.*
pressure groups. ; !f|! Some established marital connections with the fam ily o f Iltutm ish; others in-
The Sultan gave asylum to a considerable number o f talented scholars, Jp:- trigued with ambitious ladies o f the royal harem. The internecine struggle *
statesmen, and generals driven into exile before the onrushingM ongol hordes, If; among them took a heavy toll o f their ranks, and they were able neither to
and employed them to strengthen his central government, modelled on the strengthen the royal power nor to raise one o f their members to tbe throne.
administrative institutions o f the great Saljüq sultans o f Iran; however, the HI When Balban (1266-87) seized the throne by killing his feeble son-in-law
core o f his strength was still the Turkic slaves whom he him self had purchased, JH Sultan N âsiru’d-Din M ahm üd (1246-66), power had been fully in his hands
trained, and promoted to offices o f trust and responsibility. T h ey held high | | | for over ten years. The remnants o f the leaders o f Iltutmish’s reign were
posts at Court, and some o f them controlled iqta's o f vital importance. Minhâj exterminated on one pretext or the other. Balban gave a new basis to his rule
Sirâj gives short biographies o f twenty-five oflltutm ish’s nobles (jnaliks)Kon\y H |ib y rejecting the policy o f co-operation with the dom inant T u rkic élite and
two o f whom had been slaves o f M u'izzu’d-DIn Muhammad. Although.'they I p proclaiming that a king is the vice-gerent o f G od. H e buttressed this ideal by
included members o f several tribes, such as the K h itâ’I, Qipchâq, and Ilbari, f l v imposing strict rules o f discipline in liis court, calling them Sâsânid cere-
and men from M esopotam ia and A natolia, prudent management by Iltutmish Sfe monials, although he appears to have had no special knowledge o f ancient
kept racial rivalries and ambitions subdued. A class o f petty m ilitary chieftains, lf® Iran. He reorganized the central army, kept it active and alert, appointed
described as iqta'dars by the historian Baranl, the author o f Tarlkh i-Elrftz loyal officers with, great care, and strengthened the spy system. He retrieved
Shdhl, but clearly distinguishable from the governors or waits (whose extensive |p. the prestige o f the Delhi sultanate by controlling the M ongol inroads; in 1241
iqta's approximated to the provincial suh-divisions o f the present day), was p | the M ongols had plundered and devastated Lahore. Balban’s frequent raids
also evolved by Iltutmish. They numbered about 2,000 and constituted the r||| in the G angetic dodb subdued the turbulent Ràjput chiefs and his military
nucleus o f the central standing army. | p posts, garrisoned hy A fghan troops, instead o f Turks, restored order in that
This gave Iltutmish better success in controlling the region to the west of |g:; area. By cutting down the jungle and opening roads in the dodb he connected
D elhi as far as the Satlaj ; but his hold in the east o f the Haoâlî -i-.Dihli (br the his military posts with each other. W hen well over seventy, in 1281, he ruth-
region bounded on the east by the Yam unâ, and on the north by the forests lessly crushed the rebellion o f his governor Tughril in Bengal, and appointed
at the foot o f the Siwâliks) was very precarious. W e find the Sultan’s eldest | § his own son Bughrâ K han in his place.
son, the energetic Prince N âsiru’d-Dïn M ahm üd, as governor o f Avadh iff. The death o f his eldest son Prince Muham m ad, the warden o f the marches,
waging incessant war against the Hindu tribes struggling for independence. jH who fell fighting against the M ongols in 1285, was a mortal blow to his
\W .
252 The Muslim Ruling Dynasties
ambitions, but he retained the façade o f vigour and despotism. Balban died a
disappointed man, reading on the wall o f time the message of the disintegra
t i o n ^ - his centralized monarchy.
H is'grandson K aiqubàd (1287-90) spent a ll his time in drinking and de
bauchery. Fïrüz, the aged leader o f the K haljis, whom the proud Turks con
sidered inferior because o f their mixed origin, secured the throne in 1290 and
ruled under the title o f Jalàlu’d-Dîn. His nephew, 'A la ’ u’d-Dln K halji, both as
governor o f K a ra under his uncle (whom he killed in cold blood ini 1296) and
as sultan, gave lustre to the dynasty. In 1292 he penetrated into M àlw â, and
seized Bhîlsâ. In 1294 he appeared before Devagiri, defeated the Y âd ava king,
Ràm achandra D eva, and returned to K ara laden with huge wealth.
A fter becoming king, Sultan 'A lâ ’u’d-Dïn killed all possible claimants to the
throne, and extirpated a considerable number o f the nobles influential under
his uncle. Rebellions led by relatives and prom inent men induced hjm to
launch an entirely new policy designed to isolate potential leaders from one
another, and to deprivenhein o f power and affluence.
H e resumed revenue.grants to charitable institutions and the families o f
religious leaders in to ‘his own hands. H e reorganized the intelligence system,
enforced strict sumptuary laws in Delhi, and imposed harsh regulations upon
the personal behaviour and social relations o f the nobles, particularly pro
hibiting convivial gatherings.
T o increase his financial resources and reduce to abject -submission the
village leaders, ‘ khüts, chaudhrls, and m uqaddam s’, he introduced two im
portant reforms. First, he replaced the earlier land revenue assessments with
one based on the measurement o f land. Secondly, he revoked the village
leaders’ hereditary perquisites. T o ordinary cultivators his reforms did not
m ake much difference; the village accountant and the army o f new revenue
officials were corrupt, and even more cruel and oppressive than the hereditary
headmen they replaced. T h e backbone o f 'A la ’ u’d -D in’s strength was the
standing army, directly recruited by the arm y minister ('âriz-i-mamâlik) and
paid in cash from the royal treasury. A descriptive roll o f the individual
horsemen and a system .of branding cavalry horses eliminated the fraud and
deceit which had been (and were to be again) the order o f the day.
T h e central army overawed the tributary Hindu chiefs (‘ ràis, rànâs, and
ràw ats’). Alm ost all northern India was conquered; in 1299, G ujarat was in
vaded and R âjâ K aran V àghel driven out. H is beautiful queen K am lâ D evi
was seized and married to the Sultan. Another arm y captured Sewistân, and
in 1300, when a M ongol army appeared before Delhi, it was defeated with
heavy loss. N ext, Rantham bhor and C h ilor in Râjputàua were conquered;
but another M ongol invasion compelled 'A lâ ’u’d-Dîn to increase his standing
army, and introduce his famous price controls, reinforced with further re
strictions on luxurious living. Some m odem scholars believe that the reforms
were introduced out o f philanthropic motives. This view is based upon an
anecdote narrated by the eminent süfï, Shaikh N asfru’d-Dtn Mahmud
C hirâgh o f Delhi (c. 1280-1356) to a gullible sü fî audience, but B aranfs
analysis o f 'AJà’u’d-D ïn’ s motives, followed by other medieval historians, is
irrefutable.
Between 1305 and 1307, the M ongols made two more invasions, but both
The Muslim Ruling Dynasties 253
were easily repulsed. The Sultan’s armies conquered M âlwà, penetrated into
Mewâr, and completely crushed the R âjâ o f Jàlor; but the Sultan did not
think Ràjputàna worth the trouble o f annexing. The fabulous wealth o f the
Deccan now attracted him ; he needed money to pay his arm y and his swarm
ing officials. In 1303 an expedition mounted against W àrangal, the capital o f
the K àkatïya kingdom o f Telingâna, from Orissa had failed. Devagiri now
became 'A lâ ’ u’d D în ’s target. In 1307 he commissioned his trusted slave
M alik K â fù r to reduce Ràmachandra' o f Devagiri, who had paid no tribute
for several years, and had given shelter to Râjâ K aran o f Gujarat, w ho ruled
in Baglâna as his vassal. The invading army was also ordered to bring to the
Sultan D eval D evi, the daughter o f Râjâ Karan by K am là Devi. T he un
fortunate princess fell into the hands o f the Sultan’s army while being escorted
to D evagiri, and was sent to Delhi, where she was married to the Sultan’s
eldest son KJhizr K kân . M alik K â fü r seized Ellichpur, and proceeded to
D evagiri. T h e Râjâ submitted, went to Delhi, and in return for enormous
gifts received the title o f Rai-i-Râyân (‘ the Principal R a i’). H e remained a
life-long ally o f the Khaljis.
In 1308 M a lik K â fü r besieged W àrangal and inflicted a crushing defeat
upon the R âjâ, compelling him to accept vassalage. T w o years later, he took
the H oysala ruler Vira Ballala III by surprise, and seized Dvârasamudra. H e
made a dash upon M adurai, whose Pàndya ruler abandoned it, adopting
guerrilla tactics to harass the invader. M adurai was sacked, its temples
plundered, and vast booty amassed. It is doubtful if M alik K âfü r actually in
vaded Râmesvaram , as many imagine; he may, however, have sent a plunder
ing column agaiDSt it.
In October 1311 M alik K â fü r returned to Delhi and was loaded w ith
honours. T h e D eccan râjàs were recognized as tributary chiefs. T w o years
later, K â fü r again marched against Devagiri to crush the rebellious Singhava,
son and successor o f Râm achandra. Singhava fought valiantly, but was de
feated and slain. Devagiri was annexed; but soon after M alik K âfü r hastened
back to D elhi, which was thrown into disorder b y ’A là ’u’d-D ïn’s illness. T he
conspiracies and intrigues o f M alik K â fü r annihilated several eminent mem
bers o f ’ A lâ ’ u’d-D în’s family. K flizr K hân was disinherited, and, after the
Sultan’s long-expected death in January 1316, M alik K â fü r raised to the
throne one o f 'A ld ’u’d-DIn’s sons, aged six, under the title o f Shihâbu’d-D ïn
'Um ar. A s regent, he blinded KJhizr KJhân and several others, but failed in his
attempt to visit that fate upon another son o f the late Sultan, M ubàrak K hân,
then about seventeen. T h e soldiers, m oved by the prince’s appeals, and his
bribes, slew M alik K â fü r; and M ubàrak became king.
He reversed his father’s harsh administrative regulations, crushed a rebel
lion in G ujaràt, and reconquered D evagiri; but his infatuation for an Islarn-
ized Hindu slave Hasan, whom he had entitled K husrau K hân, cost him his
life and ended K haljî rule. K husrau belonged to the warlike' Barwâr tribe o f
G ujarât and commanded a considerable follow ing o f his own men.
Khusrau ruled from 15 April to 3 September 1320. Although the M uslim
historians accuse him o f introducing idolatrous worship to the palace and in
sulting Islam and the Q ur’ân, a sizeable section o f the im portant Turkic
nobles, arid the pious Shaikh N izâm u’ d-Dîn A u liyà’, thé celebrated Chishti
254 The Muslim Ruling Dynasties
saint o f Delhi, supported hint. The Shaikh, indeed, accepted money from him.
But G hàzl M alik Tughluq, the ambitious warden o f the marches in the Panjàb,
and his talented son M alik Jauna rallied a parly o f Turkic chiefs in the name
o f Islam and defeated Khusrau in two hotly contested battles.
G h àzl M alik assumed the title o f G hiyasu’d-D?n; his dynasty survived
nominally until 1412, and is marked by tw o important rulers, Muham m ad bin
T ughluq (i32 5-5l) and Firüz Shah (1351-88).
G hiyâsu’d-Dîn Tughluq combined the rare qualities o f a general and a far
sighted statesman. He tried to recover the treasure squandered by Khusrau,
thus involving himself in conflict with (am ong others) Shaikh N izàm u ’d-Dm
A u liyà’ . He revoked 'A lâ ’u’d-DJn’s rules o f payment o f revenue by measure
ment o f land and introduced the system o f crop-sharing. H e considered
village headmen useful, and the iglò' systenrbest suited to the m ilitary char
acter o f his government. He maintained the descriptive rolls and the branding
o f horses.
T w o expeditions o f his son Jauna, now entitled U lugh K han, against
W arangal, resulted in its complete defeat and annexation; the city was re
named Sultanpur. The Sultan himself marched east and asserted his authority
over West Bengal, ruled by descendants o f Balban’s son Bughrâ K hân. Re
turning, he reduced Tlrhut to submission. His last halt at Afghânpur, a
village six miles south-east o f Delhi; proved fatal for him. A fter a mid-day
meal in a hurriedly-built wooden pavilion, elephants were being paraded; the
entire pavilion fell, crushing the Sultan and his second son. Some modern
scholars argue, against medieval tradition, that Jauna Khan-did not arrange
this disaster; but the circumstances suggest his guilt. He proclaimed himself
Sultan with the simple style o f Muhammad bin Tughluq.
The Sultan was misunderstood throughout his reign. His intellectual capac
ity, and love for philosophy, were interpreted as hostility to Islam. His efforts
to break the clique o f the Delhi 't/lama’ and sflfls failed. His friendship, with
yogis and Jains, and his participation in the H oli festival, were considered
evidence o f his being Hinduized. His ambition to establish political contacts
with the world outside India was regarded as madness. The old political
leadership dubbed him a tyrant; some o f the 'ulam a' proclaimed war against
him to be lawful.
In 1326-7 he decided upon a plan to make D evagiri the second administra
tive capital o f his empire. The policy o f annexing the Deccan'kingdom s made
this imperative. T o make it an effective seat o f government, he wished a sec
tion o f the élite to be permanently settled-there, with the 'ulam a' and sOfis
giving the lead. They refused to co-operate; but the Sultan was adamant. He
named Devagiri Daulatàbâd, and forced all those whom he had selected to
emigrate. Whht contemporary and later historians call a mass exodus ,\Vas in
fact the transfer o f a selection o f the élite. When Ibn Battuta visited D elhi in
1334, it was full o f sûfïs and 'ulama'.
A growing shortage o f silver led the Sultan to introduce a token currency of
bronze in 1330. The coins were immediately and successfully forged. In 1332
he redeemed the tokens, false and genuine together, against a new debased
silver currency, maintaining the prestige o f the treasury to his immense per
sonal loss.
The Muslim Ruling Dynasties 255
The governor o f M a 'b a r in the extreme south, Saiyid Ahsan, rebelled in
1335 and became independent. T h at year too, Saiyid Ahsan*s son Sharif
Ibràhlm, the governor o f HansI, rebelted. The insurrection spread to Su'nnâm
and Sâmâna, the Saiyids and other M uslim élite groups being well represented
am ong the rebels, In 1338 'A in u ’ I M u lk M ultânî, governor o f A vad h, led a
rebellion provoked by years o f famine and undiminished revenue assessments.
The rebels were predom inantly non-Turkic elements w hom the Sultan had
endeavoured to use as a counterpoise to the intrigues o f the Turks : M on gol
neo-Muslims, foreign nobles, Saiyids and Afghans, and some trusted officers
like 'A in u ’l M u lk . Restless ambition was as much responsible fo r the rebel
lions as fear o f the Sultan and his vindictive punishments.
H arihara and Bukka, tw o fugitive brothers from W àrangal w hom the
Sultan had taken captive, Islamized, and commissioned to consolidate his
rule in K am plla, renounced Islam and founded the kingdom o f V ijayanagara
in 1336. In 1338 Bengal became independent, and in A u gu st 1347 H asan
Gangaw l detached the w hole D eccan, including D aulatâbâd, from the
Sultan’ s dominions, proclaim ing him self Sultan as Bahm an Shâh. N ever
again, except briefly and insecurely fo r a generation after A urangzeb’s con
quests, did D elhi rule the D eccan. Sultan M uham m ad bin T ughluq died in
Sind chasing the rebel T agh ï, a leader o f T urkic origin, in 1351 : as a sixteenth-
century historian says, the king was freed from his people and his people from
the king.
The nobles, the süfls, and 'ulam a' in the imperial cam p raised his cousin
Fïrüz to the throne. A m ild man o f unenterprising nature, he allow ed policy
to be controlled by the ‘ ulam a', the siifis, and the strong-willed nobles. F ollow
ing the path o f least resistance, he overlooked corruption in the hope that
such kindness w ould be repaid with devotion. H e prohibited bloodshed and
tortures and obtained deeds o f forgiveness for Sultan M uham m ad from the
families o f his victims. H e assigned liberal revenue grants to religious founda
tions and holy men; he m ade hereditary the revenue assignments given as
salary to soldiers and m ilitary officers. H e had old monuments repaired, and
founded several new towns : H isàr-Fïrüza, with a canal system, and F irüzâbâd
on the Y am u n a were open towns, while Jaunpur was m ainly a garrison town
to strengthen central control over the eastern regions. H e transferred tw o
Asokan pillars from T oprâ and M eerut to D elhi. Orchards were planted fo r
the benefit o f Muslims. F îrü z created a special department fo r the recruitment
o f slaves, at one time m aintaining 180,000 in his household. M an y were hired
out to the Sultan’s profit; trained as artisans and craftsmen, others were
assigned revenue grants. H e abolished several taxes forbidden by the Islam ic
law which yielded little incom e. H e im posed jizya (poll tax) on brahmans,
previously exempted; but Hindu agitation m ade him fix a concessional rate
forThem.
H is military campaigns in Bengal, Jajnagar, and K ângrâ were ineffective;
his Thatta campaign o f 1365-7 was a complete disaster fo r the D elhi arm y.
Fîrüz was followed by w eak successors, puppets in the hands o f am bitious but
incompetent slave leaders. T he.in vasion o f Tïm ür (the great M o n gol con
queror, know n in Europe as Tam erlane) in 1398-9 was devastating both fo r
Hindus and Muslims. D elh i was sacked and desolated. R ival representatives
256 The Muslim Ruling Dynasties
o f (lie Tughluq Dynasty rompeteci for the shadow o f power; the last survived
until 1412. A dynasty o f Saiyids ruled Delhi and its environs from 1414 to
145r. Elsewhere, control passed to petty chieftains or to provincial dynasties.
N ot until 1451 did Delhi begin to revive, when Dahlol Lodi founded an
Afghan dynasty. The strong central army organized by 'A lâ ’u’d-D în main
tained its hold down to the reign o f Fîrüz. Restless M uslim leaders caused
disturbances,'but no Hindu tributary chiefs in northern India made any
successful atterrjpt to become independent. Under the successors o f Fîrüz,
Hindu strength surged up from the Panjâb to Bengal, and frequently attempted
to overthrow the provincial dynasties.
A s we have seen, Bengal was hardly ever under the effective control o f the
D elhi sultans. TJbc Ilyâs Shâhl D ynasty o f Bengal (1339-1415 and 1437-87)
unified East and West Bengal, overran Tlrhut, and then tried to annex
Orissâ. M any new areas, such as K hulnâ, were redeemed from jungle and
colonized. Sanskrit learning was revived in Bengal and Hinduism spread in
Assam . The Husain Shahi D ynasty (1493-1538) is characterized by an im
pressive record o f military activity in Kàm rûp (Assam) and Orissa. After a
brief M ughal occupation, Bengal fell to the Afghans in 1538, and until con
quered by A kb ar in 1576 it remained the bulwark o f A fghan resistance against
the M ughals.
T h e Sharql (‘ E astern’) D ynasty o f Jaunpur (1394—1479) asserted itself
effectively against the rising powers o f the Hindu tributary chiefs from Avadh
to Bihar. The territory o f M àhvà, a triangular plateau with the Vindhya
mountains as its base, became independent in 1402 under D ilàw ar Khan
G hürî. A s the leading independent power o f central India it had to struggle ón
two fronts: internally against Hindu chieftains and externally against its
neighbours, M ewàr, Jaunpur, Gujarât, and the BahmanI kingdom . Sultan
M ahm üd (1436-69), the first K h alji ruler o f M àlw à, consolidated and ex
tended his state; but in the sixteenth century it decayed, being reduced in 1531
to a mere province o f G ujarât. Independent again in 1537, it was conquered
by A k b a r in 1561.
R ân à K um bha (1433-68) made M ewàr a very strong Ràjput power, com
petent to contend against both G ujarât and M àlw à in the race o f expansion.
R ànâ Sànga (1509-28), after crushing his Ràjput rivals, hoped to use Màhvà
and G ujarât as allies, and overthrow the L od i D ynasty o f Delhi. T h e Mughals
forestalled him, and defeated him in turn in 1527.
The real founder o f the independent kingdom o f G ujarât was N âsiru’d-Dîn
M uham m ad Shâh, w ho ascended the throne in 1404. In the reigns o f Ahmad
Shàh (1411-43), the founder o f Ahm adâbàd, and M ahm üd Begarh (1458—
1511) G ujarat grew great. A lthough Bahâdur Shâh (1526-37) conquered
C hitor and repulsed the Portuguese from D iu , the M ughal.em peror Humàyün
defeated him in 1535, and he perished in an encounter with the Portuguese in
1537-
Sind and M ultan were ruled by minor dynasties. T h e sultans o f Kashm ir
(1339-1586), independent even when the D elhi sultans were powerful, did not,
on the whole, pursue an expansionist policy. There the liberal and orthodox
trends in Islam ran parallel. Sultan Sikandar (1389-1413) persecuted brâh
mans, and demolished and desecrated temples, but Sultan Zainu’l ‘ Abidin
The Muslim Ruling Dynasties 257
(1420-70) gave his full patronage to Sanskrit and Hinduism. H e reorganized
the revenue administration, fostered irrigation, and secularized the admini
stration o f justice.
In the far south the sultans o f M adurai (1335-78) struggled against the new
Vijayanagara Dynasty, until Haribara II (1377-1404) absorbed their shrink
ing domains. The independent K M ndesh D ynasty came into existence in
1382; they wrested Aslr from its Hindu chieftain and founded Burhânpur.
Khàndesh maintained friendly relations with G ujaràt, M àlw à, and the Deccan
sultans, thus remaining independent to 1600, when it fell to Akbar.
The Bahmani D ynasty was the most powerful in the Deccan, ruling from
Gulbarga until 1422, and then m aking Bidar their capital. The founder,
'A là ’u’d-Dïn Bahman Shah, divided the kingdom into four quarters (tara/)
and assigned each to one trusted officer (tarafdâr). The Raichur doâb was con
tested between the Vijayanagara and the Bahm ani rulers. In the eventful reign
o f Fîrüz Shâh Bahmani (1397-1422) three m ajor battles were fought between
the two powers without disturbing the status quo. Fîrüz developed Chaul and
A bhol as ports for trading ships from the Red Sea and Persian G ulf, carrying
luxury goods not only from the Persian, Arabian, and African coasts, but also
(through Egypt) from Europe. Persians, Turks, and Arabs were given a ready
welcome by the Bahmanlds, producing ultimately conflicts between the sons
o f the soil and the foreigners (pardesis).
The Bidar period (1422-1526) was marked by wars with G ujarât and
M àlw â, continued campaigns against Vijayanagara, and expeditions against
Orissa. The Irani adventurer M ahm üd Gàw àn, as wazir o f the Bahmani
sultanate, dominant between 1466 and 1481, annexed the K arnatak region
and seized G oa, which had been jealously guarded by tbe V ijayanagara rulers.
M ahmüd Gâwàn introduced several reforms in administration, but fell to the
intrigues o f the D eccanj élite and was put to death by Sultan M uham m ad
Shâh (1463-82) in 1481. T h e struggle between the pardesis and the Deccanls
drained the kingdom o f its strength; the later sultans were puppets in the
hands o f the dominant DeccanI groups. By 1530 the Bahm ani realm was
broken into five independent sultanates: the ‘ Adii Shàhl o f Bljàpur, the Qutb
Shàht o f Golconda, the N izâm Shâhï o f Ahm adnagar, the Barïd Shàhl o f
Bidar; and the ‘im àd Shàhî o f Berâr. Rivals, they yet co-operated in the face
o f external threats. Early in 1565 a confederacy o f the five powers defeated the
Vijayanagara Râjâ at the battle o f Tàlikota (more precisely Banihatti). T he
vast Hindu kingdom fell to pieces, and Bijâpur and G olconda gathered the
lion’s share o f the spoil.
W hile the provincial sultans strove to eliminate the independent power o f
Hindu chiefs, they were great patrons o f regional culture and regional langu
ages, and came to rely on their tributary Hindu chiefs fo r aid against their
Muslim neighbours. W ith a few exceptions, even the most orthodox were
tolerant o f Hindus and o f foreign adventurers settled in their lands. The in
digenous leadership, both Hindu and Muslim, looked upon the latter with
disgust ; the foreigners, however, anxious to prom ote peaceful coexistence, en
riched local administrative institutions and cultural and social life.
The story o f Delhi must now be taken up once more. Sultan Bahlol (14 5 1
89) was an Afghan o f the Lodi tribe, whose home was the Sulaimân .range.
258 The Muslim Ruling Dynasties
I
Some members o f this tribe had served in the Ghürid arm y; others, apparently
not yet Islamized, fought under Prithvîrâja. In Balban’s time, Afghans had
been steadily rising as political leaders; indeed, the old nobility had reproached
Jalàlu’d-Dln Fîrüz K h alji with Afghan ancestry. Afghans, useful as soldiers,
were successful also as merchants, dealing particularly in horses. Each tribe
nourished traditions o f independence, which sharpened distinctions and made
concerted Afghan action difficult.
Bahlol Lodi, a military chief o f about forty, induced Shâh ‘Â lam , the last
Saiyid sultan, to resign and retire to Badàün, where he lived unmolested until
his death in 1478. He gained the support o f other Afghans for this coup with
the promise that they would share equally in the fruits o f power. T o a large
extent, he kept his promise; but he also encouraged other Afghans, and par
ticularly Lodls, to come down from their barren mountains to the fertile
plains o f Hindustan. He distributed rich iqtà's am ong them, and with the aid
o f their contingents, rather than by reviving a central army, he gradually built
up his military strength. He was careful (like the Rom an Em peror Augustus)
to avoid the appearance o f power; he claimed to be no more than the first
am ong equals, and his court resembled more an Afghan tribal assembly than
the council o f a great king.
M ost o f Bahlol’s energy and resources were devoted to crushing Husain
Shah Sharql (1458-77), the last ruler o f Jaunpur, w ho enjoyed the support o f
m any eminent Hindu chiefs and survived in a small enclave until 1505. When
B ahlol’s son Sultan Sikandar (1489-1517) ascended the throne, the Rajputs o f
the Jaunpur district were still in the field to measure swords with the Afghans.
O nly Husain Shâh’s death in 1505 ended this challenge to Afghan power.
In 1506 Sultan Sikandar founded A gra, as an advance headquarters for
campaigns against G w alior and other neighbouring Ràjput lands. Abandon
ing his father’s policy o f propitiating the tribal pride o f the Afghan leaders by
ostentatious equality, he had spies keep him informed about the minutest de
tails o f his nobles’ private lives. His son and successor Ibrâhlm L od i (1517-26)
went further, imprisoning and beheading several leading nobles. D au lat K hàn
L od i, governor o f the Panjâb, and his associates invited Bâbur, the ruler o f
K abu l, to deprive Ibrahim Lodi o f his throne and ensure them (as they hoped)
predominance over a grateful king.
B àbur claimed descent from Tlm ür on his father’s side, and from Chingiz on
his mother’s. H è is com m only referred to as a M ughal, the Persian form o f
M ongol, but in fact his blood was very mixed. Driven out from Farghàna and
Samarqand, he conquered K abul in 1505, and began to dream o f bringing
the Indian territories conquered by Tim ur under his control. Before finally
defeating Ibrahim Lodi on the field o f Pânîpat in 1526, he had four times in
vaded the Panjâb. His victory was the fruit o f his careful planning, and o f his
cavalry and artillery’s superior manoeuvres. His centre was protected by
700 carts connected by twisted bull-hides; between every pair o f guns there
were six or seven movable breastworks for the protection o f m atchlock men,
and the flanking attacks o f his cavalry transformed his carts into a form idable
fort.
On 16 M arch 1527 at Khanuâ, 37 miles west o f A grâ, Bàbur met Rânâ
Sànga, who had seized Bhïlsâ, Sârangpur, Chandëri, and Rantham bor, and
The Muslim Ruling Dynasties 259
his gunners made short work o f th e'Râjputs. Bâbur was now superior to any
other Indian power. Emperor from  g râ to K âbu l, he marched against the
Afghans in the east as far as Ghâzîpur. He shook, but did not destroy, their
strength; returning to  grâ, he died prematurely in 1530.
Humàyün (1530-9) was no match to his energetic father. Preferring t o '
conquer C hitor and G ujarat rather than to consolidate M ughal power in the
east, he allowed Shër K h ân Sür, an enterprising petty A fghan chief, to b e
come an invincible power in Jaunpur, Bihàr, and Bengal. Shër K h ân p ro
claimed himself king in Bengal in 1538, defeating Hum àyün at Chausâ in
June 1539, and finally near Bilgram in M ay 1540.
Shër Shâh ruled only to 1545, dying in an explosion, when well over sixty,
at his siege o f K àlinjar, He had subjugated the turbulent tribes o f tbe northern
Panjâb, and conquered M âlw à, M ârwâr, and M ewâr. H e reintroduced m any
healthy features o f 'A là ’u ’d-D ïn’s revenue system. T h e existing parganâs were
grouped in districts under the control o f officers whose duties were carefully
defined. The revenue was fixed on a measurement o f land and carefully drawn
schedules o f rates. Shër Shâh’s road system is still remembered; b ela id out the
Grand Trunk R oad from Peshawar in Pakistan to Sonàrgaon in Bengal. H is
decision to hold village headmen responsible for highway robbery and murder,
and to compel them to restore losses o f money and goods, restored peace in
the villages and on the highways.
His son Islam Shah (1545-52) was a competent ruler; but the tribal rivalries
o f the Afghan chiefs shook the fabric o f the newly form ed sultanate, and he
failed to conciliate them, dying with potential conflicts unresolved and with
no fit successor, Humàyün, after a chequered career as a fugitive in Sind and
Iran and then as ruler o f K abu l, reconquered D elhi in 1555; the political
power o f the Sür Sultan was in the hands o f Hemü, w ho was not a R âjput but
a pedlar by profession and a Vaisya by caste.
Hum àyün did not rule for more than a few months, and his sudden death
on 24 January 1556 made his son A k b ar the ruler o f Hindüstân. Even at
thirteen, A k b ar showed determination and promise, overthrowing Hëm ü in
the second battle o f Pânïpat in N ovem ber 1556. F o r more than three years his
regent Bairâm K hân was de facto ruler, but in M arch 1560 A k b ar, with his
intriguing foster-mother’s help, overthrew the powerful regent and soon
assumed full control o f the government.
Early in 1562 he married the daughter o f R âjâ Bhâr M al, the K achw âha
Râjput o f Am ber. B y 1564 he had abolished the enslavement o f prisoners o f
war, remitted the tax on Hindu pilgrims, and ended the jizya (poll tax on non-
Muslims). W ith persistent determination and dogged tenacity, he conquered
northern India from Bengal to K ashm ir and Sind. B y annexing Qandahar he
handed down to his successors the strongest possible north-west frontier, such
as was held by no ancient Indian power, nor even by the British except
fleetingly in 1880-1. His unexpected death in 1605 cut short his am bition
to annex the D eccan and to push the Portuguese out o f their maritime
strongholds.
He based his rule on the theory that kingship is a light emanating from G od ,
a great gift ‘ not bestowed till m any thousand grand requisites have been
gathered together in one individual’ . His vast conquests had convinced him
2 Ó0 The Muslim Ruling Dynasties
was increased ; Bïjâpur was required to stop M arâthâ expansion, and Golconda
to give up Shì'ì practices, which amounted to an admission o f Iran’s overlord
ship. Towards the end o f his reign, his ambitious son and viceroy in the
Deccan, Aurangzeb, arousing the cupidity o f his father, made a bid to annex
both Bïjâpur and G olconda entirely, but the Emperor’s sudden illness late in
1657, and the subsequent war o f succession, put an end to the plan.
A n expedition to Tibet failed; attempts to seize Balkh and Bukhara could
not be maintained; three attempts to regain Qandahàr, recovered from the
Persians in 1639 and lost again in 1648, ended in defeat. The M ughal army,
now purely Indian, had no training in warfare in those regions, and dreaded
above all else the cold. Better success was met in Assam, where after repeated
attacks on the Ahom s the M ughals stabilized their boundary at the Barnadi.
Imperial authority was effectively imposed upon Bundelkhand and Baghel-
khand; in 1643, the Râjâ o f Palam au was forced into submission. The Gpnds
and Bhils o f M âlwâ were kept subdued. Imperial orders o f this period survive
id large numbers. They exhibit the Emperor’ s deep concern for the extension
o f revenue-producing cultivation, and the promotion o f manufactures to
supply his court, particularly linen o f fine quality.
In September 1657 Shâh Jahàn fell dangerously ill o f a strangury. A ll his
four sons, each talented and efficient, resolved to contest the throne. Shâh
Jahàn had wished his eldest son D àrâ, a man devoted to sufic researches and
o f amiable but selfish temperament, to succeed him. The others had acqui
esced, knowing full well that the sword would decide. T hey entered into
secret alliances am ong themselves and with various nobles, and strengthened
their power in their respective viceroyalties. Despite Shàh.Jahân’s help, Darà
lost the battle o f Sàmügarh at the end o f M a y 165S to Aurangzeb, a better
general and a more effective leader. Shâh Jabân, imprisoned in  grà fort, died
there in 1666. Through a cunning device Aurangzeb seized his brother Murâd,
form er governor o f Gujarât, and incarcerated him in-Gwalior. He pursued
D arà towards the Panjâb, but returned in January 1659 and defeated Shujà',
the former Viceroy o f Bengal, at Khajuhâ, near Allahabad; Shujà' was finally
defeated by M ïr Jumla near D acca in A pril 1660. In A pril 1659 D ârâ, wrongly
banking upon Ràjput support, and entrenched in the D eorài pass south of
Ajm er, was beaten after a tenacious fight, and fled through G ujarât, K athia
war; and Sind. A treacherous officer, advanced by him in the days o f his glory,
foiled his attempt to escape to Iran through the Bolan pass. Seized, he was
brought to D elhi and executed on the frivolous charge o f calling Islam and
heresy twins. Some describe this war o f succession as a war o f ideologies, a
triumph for orthodox Islam over Hinduism and the Shi'is. A th a r'A li’s statisti
cal analysis o f the supporters o f the contending princes has, however,
strengthened the view that it was, like previous wars o f succession, a war of
factions, a natural event in M ughal history. A ll parties claimed that they wère
fighting to strengthen the hand o f their father; Aurangzeb and his allies,
after the Victory o f Samügarh, added to their proclamations a claim that they
took up arms to uproot the un-Islamic influence o f Dârâ.
Aurangzeb begah his reign b y remissions o f revenue and other much-needed
measures o f econom ic relief. He abolished as un-Islamic m any exactions
which, although frequently suppressed by'previous rulers, had always been
The Muslim Ruling Dynasties 263
levied again. He restored the department o f Ihtlsâb (‘ m oral censorship’),
which A k b ar had disbanded, to enforce rigid Sunni m orality upon the M uslim
masses, who were henceforth subjected to much petty irritation w ithout any
great change in their daily lives. T he apparatus o f ‘ snoopers’ gave em ploym ent
to many orthodox bigots, and created a vested interest am ong the bureau
cracy, which coincided with Aurangzeb’s own inclinations, in discarding
A kbar’s secular principles.
In 1665 Aurangzeb introduced discrim inatory'trade regulations; in 1668 he
initiated a series o f puritanical reform s; in 1669 he ordered the closing o f
Hindu schools and demolition o f temples, and several temples were actually
destroyed. By 1672 his stupendous code o f H an afi law, the Fatawâ-i- Âlam-
gïrî, was completed ; but it did not override custom ary law. In 1679, to provide
the army o f Islamizing officials with a source o f incom e legal under M uslim
law, as recommended by GhazàlI, he reimposed the jizy a ; ‘ many o f the honest
scholars o f the tim e’ were appointed to collect it, and it was levied with the
utmost severity, the Emperor never relenting, not even in extreme old age.
Until 1681 Aurangzeb remained in northern In d ia; from tjhen until he died
he was in the D eccan. His Irani general Mir Jumla, after driving Shujâ* into
exile, conquered K ü ch Bihàr, and invaded Assam ; the arm y was decimated
by disease, M ît Jumla him self dying in 1663, and his conquests were, piece
by piece, abandoned. Palam au and N avanagar were annexed outright. In the
Deccan the Emperor’s maternal uncle Shàista K h àn (1601-94) made little
headway against the M aràthâ adventurer Sivâjï, w ho in 1663 plundered the
K hân’s camp, cutting o ff his thumb in his own harem. In 1664 âivàjl sacked
the flourishing port o f Surat; but in 1665 the R âjput general M irzâ R âja Jai
Singh defeated him, forced him by the treaty o f Purandhar to surrender
twenty-three forts, and induced him to wait upon Aurangzeb at À grâ. This
effort to bring Sivàjï into the mansabdâri system failed; fancying him self
slighted, éivâjl made a scene in court, was imprisoned, and, while the
Emperor considered plans for dealing with him, escaped, and reorganized his
.territories.
Jai Singh meanwhile had failed to conquer Bïjàpur, being unprovided with
ia siege train; the Emperor was displeased, and recalled him ; he died on the
w ay home in 1667. In that year the Afridls and Yüsufzaïs rebelled on the
•north-west frontier, and these and other disturbances held A urangzeb’s
attention for several years. Proclaim ing himself Chhatrapati1 in 1674, Sivâjï
assumed equality with his former master, the Sultan o f Bïjàpur; in 1677 he
m ade extensive conquests in the region o f A ndhra Pradesh in the name o f
Qutb Shâh o f G olconda; but in A p ril 1680 he died.
Sivâjï united the scattered and disorganized M arâthâs into a secure state,
administered according to the traditions o f Vijayanagara and Bïjàpur, and
founded upon the plunder levied from other lands by m ounted guerrillas.
Asserting the right to chauth (one fourth o f the assessed revenue) and sardes-
mukhi (a further levy o f one tenth, claimed on the false ground that âivàjï’s
fam ily was entitled to it as being the principal desmukhs, or collectors o f re
venue, in Maharashtra), he pillaged alike the lands o f the M ughals and the
Deccan kings; but he raised in this way enough to pay his troops in cash, and
Lord o f the umbrella’, implying a completely independent ruler.
264 The Muslim Ruling Dynasties
sexual symbolism, and also the use o f sensual rites, are essential. It was
mainly the Bengali Vaishnavas and also some Hindi saints like K abir who
came under this influence.
MAHARASHTRA
After N âm dev two centuries went by without leaving any names o f great
saints. T h e com ing o f the Turks and o f Islam drove the movement under
ground as it were. The temple at Pandharpur was razed, but the spirit did not
die. It was Eknâth (1533-99) who revived the inspiration and the tradition.
H e was a brâhman born in a fam ily o f celebrated saints. A s a scholar, he
published the first reliable edition o f the Jnânesvarï, and thus gave the M arath i
Gita back to his people. By writing a commentary on the Râmâyana, the
B.hâvârtha-râmâyana, be also presented Ràm a’s story to them. His m ystical
teachings found their supreme expression in his famous com m entary on the
eleventh book o f the Bhâgavata Purâna, in which he obviously modelled him
self on the great master Jnànesvara.
But Eknâth did more. H e invented, as it were, a new form o f deep religious
life that needed no institutions or monasteries, no resignation from the world.
H e was a fam ily man, devoted, austere, whose life was regulated around his
hearth and his manuscripts, and yet he was a mystic. H e showed how, w hat
ever obstacles the M uslim s put in the way, the Hindu could aspire to the
deepest experience o f his religion within the ordinary fram ework o f life. Every
day he practised kirtan, and his songs are part o f the M arathi heritage..They
have a strong moral basis, are concerned with the simplest aspects o f life, and
.yet often soar to great heights o f personal mysticism.
Tukàrâm (1598-1650) was no doubt the greatest bhakti poet M ahàrâshtra
produced, and has high claims to be the greatest in the whole o f India. H e was
born in a rural fam ily o f grain traders and a'great tragedy set him on the path
o f devotion. À famine took one o f his two wives and his son, and left him
heartbroken and ruined. His w ork consists o f a collection o f hymns, express
ing the cry o f his soul.
T h e y sa y that I fabricate poem s
Y e t w ords are n ot m ine, bu t A n o th e r’s.
Tukâràm ’s hymns are the glory o f devotional poetry, the favourites o f the
V àrkarl pilgrims, and they are woven into the very texture o f the Pandharpur
rites. M o re than any other o f his fellow saints, Tukàrâm was a mystic over
powered by love, by the presence or the absence o f his Lord. Again and again
his songs describe the terrifying passage through the ‘ D ark N ight o f the S o u l',
where his feelings o f sin and nothingness combine with the absence o f the
' A . J. Appasaray, Temple Bells, Calcutta, n.d., p. 50.
270 Medieval Hindu Devotionalism
Lord to crush him down in the depths o f despair. Y e t even there, love still
possesses him. His burning desire for the L o rd ’s vision is frequently fulfilled,
and in this fulfilment an ecstasy takes hold o f his mind and his senses and
transports him into visions, now cosmic, now intensely personal. A ll this is
expressed in the concise, vigorous, sometimes brutally knotted style that is all
his own.
A s on the bank the p o o r fish lies
A n d gasps and w rithes in pain,
O r as a m an with anxious eyes
Seeks hidden gold in vain ,—
S o is m y heart distressed and cries
T o com e to T h ee again.
Y e t, this poet was o f the people, talking their language, using their similes,
italking about their life, urging them to become pilgrims o f the interior life, to
disregard the pomp, deception, superstitions o f official Hinduism, and to
contemplate the mysteries o f the love o f G od.
A kite careers in the sky,
U p there, so free and high,
T h e child h o lds on to the thread,
B ut his heart is over there,
Ràmdàs (1608-81), orphaned as a child, left home and, after long years o f
spiritual training and wandering, he settled down on the banks o f the Krishna
where he built a temple to Râm a. This last o f the great M aharashtrian hymno-
dists is in several ways quite different again. His main work, the Dasabodha is
not written in the commentary form, but is rather a compilation o f his writings
and sermons produced over many years. The content too is new, for we have
not only a theologian discussing ideas, but also a reformer concerned with the
contemporary state o f society, w ith the bad condition o f the brahmans, with
the threat o flsla m . There is evidence o f what today we would call ‘ political’
concern in the relationship he had with his pupil Sivàjî, the founder o f the
new M arâthà Hindu kingdom. In him devotionalism and activism were
1 I b i d ., p . 5 4 .
Medieval Hindu Devotionalism 271
closely wedded: whereas his predecessors were householders, their concern for
society was less than that o f Râm dàs, the ascetic. A nd whereas the others
centred their devotion on K rishna and the Vishnu o f Pandharpur, Râm dàs, as
his name proclaims, was a devotee o f Râma.
Those, then, are the main saints o f M ahàrâshtra. A s a group they have
characteristics that set them apart from those o f other regions: theologically
there is a strong current o f monism, and although m ostly devotees o f ïtrishna
their works are devoid o f erotic imagery. T hey revitalized Hinduism, estab
lished the M arâthâ literary and cultural identity, and insisted on unifying
social forces: these were to become im portant political factors in the building
o f the great Hindu kingdom o f the M aràthâs, and later characterized the
M ahàrâshtrian nationalist reformist movement.
BENGAL
M edieval devotionalism in Bengal has different roots from that o f M ahârâ-
shtra, and developed in quite a different way. T w o distinct streams o f religio
sity determined its growth. On the one hand there is the influence p f the
Vaishnava tradition, and on the other the non-Vaishnava influences from
Buddhist and Hindu sources. The Vaishnava impetus came first o f all through
the Blmgavata Parana with its glorification o f the Krishna-lilâ. This came to
Bengal under the Pala kings and found its typically Bengali literary trans
form ation in Jayadeva’s passionately lyrical Gita-Govinda towards the end o f
the twelfth century. The Gita-Govinda brings into Bengali Vaishnavism a new
aspect, derived from another source than the Bhâgavata, namely the prom
inence given to Râdhâ, the favourite o f Krishna. The erotic-mystical theme o f
the love o f Krishna and Râdhâ occupies here the centre o f the stage, and
henceforth dominates Bengâlï devotionalism.
N on-Vaishnava influence came from two sources, distinct yet interrelated.
Buddhism had been on the decline in India for some time, but in Bengal it
survived under the Pala Dynasty, after which it became decadent. In its de
cadence it produced forms that affected the development o f Vaishnavism , and
both these Buddhist and Vaishnava forms then influenced Bengali devotional-
ism. Their emphasis was on the fem ale principle o f the universe and tirey
exalted the religious value o f sexual passion. In reaction against the rigouts
o f the M ahâyâna discipline they preached the doctrine o f naturalism, thus
idealizing the sensuous and showing a new path to salvation in and through
the senses. Intense emotionalism and eroticism pervaded their rites and mysti
cal teachings. Chaitanya, the greatest o f the Bengâlï teachers, did not him self
come under their spell, but they certainly had an impact on the erotically in
spired Krishna-ò/iafcfi o f Bengal, leading in some cases to decadent practices.
Chandïdâs (fourteenth century) is the first great name in Bengali bhakti
literature. His poems, which include poems to the M other Goddess and to
Krishna and Râdhâ, testify to his being influenced by both the Gita-Govinda
and the Sahajîyà doctrines. H e holds that the only way to salvation is the love
o f G od , and that this love must be based on an earthly passion for a particular
person. This passion, however, needs to be sublimated, and therefore one
should choose an inaccessible person, for instance a low-caste or married
woman, for its object. T h e washerwoman R èm i became the focus o f his own
212 Medieval Hindu Devotionalism
desire and some o f his most beautiful poems are about her. M ore influential
than these Sàkta poems was his Krislmakirtan, devoted to the love o f Krishna
and Râdhà, imbued with great depth o f feeling and transfused with profound
symbolism.
Friend, what else can I tell you ?
Love has captured me in my tender youth,
And You leave me no peace in my house.
I will end my life, jump in the sea,
Yearning to be reborn as Krishna,
And You as Râdhà in the next life.
Then my love will snare, then abandon You.
As You go to the well, I will gracefully
Stand under the Kadaqiba with my flute.
Chandïdâs says, You, as a simple housewife,
Will fall under the spell o f my flute.
And then it will be Your turn, O Krishna,
To suffer the burning pangs o f love.
Although Yidyâpati (fourteenth to fifteenth century') did not write in
Bengali, but in M aithiii, an allied dialect, his songs on R âdhà and Krishna are
part o f Bengàlî Vâishnavjsm. H e wrote eight works in Sanskrit, and nearly a
thousand o f his love-ballads have been collected. His work is similar in con
tent to that of Chandïdâs, but his poetry is m ore classical,-polished, and
learned. In fact it mostly reads as a M aithiii version of Sanskrit courtly
eroticism, and the tradition injected a religious symbolism into the poems
which one sometimes suspects was absent in their making.
. . . On all my limbs
Were spells of love.
What strength I needed
To arrest desire.
My quivering breasts
I hid with trembling hands
As all my body glowed.
No longer could I check my passion
And the shut lotus bloomed in smiles.5
The saint who gathered together the various strands o f Bengali Vaishnavisnt,
became a reformer, and founded a sect with enorm ous influence on Bengal
religious life, was Viévambhar Misra, called Chaitanya (1485-1533). He was
unique in medieval bhakti history in that he was the initiator o f a very broad
movement which covered Bengal and spilled out into the whole o f east India.
It was a movement which encompassed an organized sect, a strong theological
school, and a broad-based popular cult. Chaitanya was probably at first a
member o f the Sankarite DasDâmi sect, and he did not leave any theological
writings, but only a few devotional songs. He him self was primarily a vision
ary ecstatic.
He sent six theologians, the ‘ six G osvâm in s’, to the sacred Krishnaite
place Vrindàvan (in Bengali- Brindàban) to w ork out the theology o f the
1 Love Songs o f yidyâpati, trans. Deben Bhatlacharya, London, 1963, p. 69.
Medieval Hindu Devotionalism 273
emerging sect. These were the people who codified its doctrine and formulated
its rules and rites. They were learned Sanskritists, familiar with the revelation
and the tradition, and primarily intent on fitting their theology into com
mentaries on the sacred texts, particularly the Bhâgavata Parana. The main'
peculiarities o f their theology are the following. Krishna is considered to be
not a mere incarnation o f Vishnu, but the highest aspect o f the divine, its
‘ true essence’. In this aspect he is united with the highest sakti, which ex
presses the blissful power o f divine life and is manifest in Râdhà. The aim o f
the devotee is gradually to ascend the ladder o f bhakti till he reaches the
supreme state o f mddhurya, or sweetness, in which he emotionally identifies
himself with Râdhâ and achieves the blissful state o f union with Krishna.
This ladder o f perfection is expressed in a terminology taken over from the
refined science o f aesthetics, describing the experience o f the beautiful. T he
whole theological edifice is thus based on a formalization o f sublimated em o
tional eroticism, and couched in terms derived from aesthetics. It should be
stressed that this mystical theology insists strongly on virtue and on ethical
training, as the necessary prerequisites for the full realization o f bhakti.
This theology, elaborated at a physical distance from Bengal, in some way
distanced itself from Chaitanya him self and the popular movement that grew
around him. Chaitanya expressed him self in the sankirtan, a session o f hymn-
singing by a group o f devotees. These songs were often accompanied by*
ecstatic dancing to the sound o f tambourines. Sessions took place in homes or
temples, or erupted in the streets in the form o f processions. Chaitanya, the
ecstatic par excellence, was the centre o f the cult, and a whole literature o f
hymns, biographies, legends, and dramas sprang up around him. In fact
Chaitanya him self became the object o f popular devotion, and was considered
the living Krishna, or rather the incarnation o f Ràdhâ-Krishna. T he Chait-
anyites were no social reformers militating against the caste structure, but
within the sphere o f devotional practice they completely rejected all distinction
o f caste and thus promoted a sense o f equality that penetrated deep into
Bengali life.
For three centuries Krishna and Chaitanya remained the main inspiration
o f high Bengâll culture. T h e seventeenth century produced a new crop o f
hymnodists, the greatest o f whom was Govinda D âs.
In the Hindi-speaking areas the new movement started not around the
-figure o f Krishna, but around Ram a, and found its leader and organizer in
Râmânanda (1400-70). In his early days he probably resided in south India
and was at first a follow er o f Râm ânuja’s Srïvaishnava sect. On his return to
the north he settled down in Vàrânasi (Banâras) and established his own sect,
the Râmânandïs. Although the old Vâlmiki Râmâyana was followed over the
centuries by a series o f works on Ram a, we have little evidence o f any Râm a
cult before the advent o f Râm ânanda. H e looks upon Râm a as the supreme
G od, who is to be adored with his iakti, Sltâ, and whose- close companions
like Hanumân should also be venerated. The literature o f the sect is not im
portant— only one hymn o f Râm ânanda him self is extant— and its theology
and ritual are largely modelled on those o f Ràmânuja.
Its main influence lies in a different direction. Râmânanda was strongly
.opposed to the restrictions and injustices o f caste. He threw his sect open to
all, and his twelve personal disciples are said to have included women, an oUt-
caste, and even a Muslim. This frank egalitarian basis and the exclusive usé of
the vernacular set the sect apart from many others. Although egalitarian ideas
did exist in India before, one cannot discount here the possible influence o f the
contemporary M uslim SOfls. The Râm ânanffl yec^has -gre^l, historical -im
portance because its followers initiated a number o f other sects and m ove
ments which covered north India. The Râmânandïs stand at the source o f im
portant later sects like the Sikhs and the Kablrpanthis, who inherited their
social concern.-
K a b lr (1440-1518) started out as a disciple o f Râmânanda, but later de
veloped his own characteristic eclecticism. Probably a Muslim by birth, or at
least brought up in a Muslim home, he was and remained a low-caste weaver.
His poetry, o f which a good collection has come down the ages, is essentially
a poetry o f the people: it is unpolished and has a rustic, colloquial quality, yet
it is pervaded with a profound symbolism and often reaches great lyrical
power. It is a poetry o f epigrams and short verses, easily remembered, thafhas
penetrated the life o f north India nearly as much as the poetry o f Tulsîdâs.
F o r K ablr there is only one way to G o d : the way o f personally experienced
bhakti, which gives one the vision o f the Lord, and which is a gift o f G o d ’s
grace. M an must purify his soul by righteousness and humility, by renuncia
tion and love, and by praise o f G od in his kirtan and in his quiet meditation.
K a b lr’s idea o f G od, like his whole theology, is eclectic, with strong influences
from Yaishnavism, Hatha Y o g a , V edàntic monism, and Süfism . He called
G od by many names) like Ràm , Hari, AUàh, Khudâ, Nirguna, Tat, and eVen
Sitnya (the Void) and Éabda (Sound). N o wonder the Muslims claimed him as
MedieoaI Hindu Devotionalism 275
a Süfï, the Hindus looked on him as a Râma-Bhakta, and the Sikhs incor
porated his songs in their Âdi-Granth.
K a b ïr was at heart a reformer, and an iconoclast. Continuously he attacks
the externals o f religion, scriptures, pilgrimages, rituals, superstitions, idols.
There is nothing but water at the holy bathing places;
and I know that they are useless, for I have bathed in them.
The images are all lifeless, they cannot speak;
I know, for I have cried aloud to them.
The Puranas and the Koran are mere words;
lifting up the curtain, I have seen.4
T o this religious iconoclasm he adds a social iconoclasm that incessantly
attacks the-injustices o f caste, and denounces the pride o f the brâhmans.
Humanity to him is a brotherhood, and all varieties o f human nature are but
refractions o f the divine.
It is but folly to ask what the caste o f a saint may be;
The barber has sought God, the washerwoman, and the carpenter—
Even Raidas was a seeker after God.
The Rishi Svapacha was a tanner by caste.
Hindus aDd Muslims alike have achieved that End, where
remains no mark of distinction.4
Legend has it that after K abir’s death both Hindus and Muslims claimed the
body. The ghost o f K a b lr appeared and told them to raise the shroud..Beneath
they found only a heap o f fresh flowers. The Hindus took h a lf and cremated
them at Vârânasï, the Muslims buried the other h alf at M aghar.
K a b ïr founded a community, known as the Kabïrpanth, which exists to this
day, and a dozen other sects sprang from his direct teaching. T hey all shunned
idolatry, were open to Hindus and Muslims alike, stressed the value o f the
guru, and limited thçm^elves to the vernacular. In the course o f time, however,
these sects grew mó'rè^xclusive, became increasingly Hinduized, and adopted
orders o f sâdhus. The most important o f these sects, which was to have quite
a different history, was that o f the Sikhs, founded by G u ru N ânak, a disciple
o f K abïr.
Tulsidas (1532-1623) was the other most fam ous spiritual heir o f Râm ân-
anda. His Râm-charit-mânas, the Lake o f the Story o f Róma, has been rightly
called the Bible o f north India. This was a new Râmâyana in the vernacular, a
conception so daring that it aroused the ire o f the brâhmans and made the
people consider Tûlsïdàs a reincarnation o f Vàlm ïki. It is the favourite b o o k o f
a hundred million people, for many o f whom it is their main source o f religious
inspiration. O f Tulsidas’s life w e know little for sure. H e probably studied
Sanskrit, then settled in Vârânasï, where he devoted him self w holly to the
Râm a bhakti. Traditionally six m inor and six m ajor w orks are attributed to
him. O f the latter the greatest, apart from the Râm-charit-mânas, are the
Vinaya-pattrikâ and the Kaoitâvali.
4 One Hundred Poems o f Kabir, trans. Rabindranath Tagore, London, 1962, poem
N o . X L 1I.
s Ibid., poem N o. II. It is to be noted that most o f the versus o f Kabir. translated by
Tfigore are o f dubious authenticity; but they arecertainly the work o f his school, and reflect
the doctrines o f the sect he founded. [Ed.]
Medieval Hindu Devotionalism
She was no theologian, nor did she leave a great number o f songs, but those
that are extant have a quality all their own. There is a freshness and fem ininity
about them, a deep pathos that expresses itself in lyrical simplicity, without
the frills o f conscious artistry. It is not so much the myth o f Krishna that in
terests her as her own relationship with him. T h a t relationship is different
from m ost other Krishna sâktas in that it consists o f a spiritual m arriage to
Krishna, her Lord.
Sürdâs (1483-1563) was one o f the eight main disciples o f V allabha, and
the most brilliant. Born in a brahman fam ily and blind, possibly from birth, he
was a musician attached to the temples a t g r â and M athurà, He left a great
number o f songs, collected in the Sürsâgar, which he him self tells us was in
spired by the Bhâgavata Parana. His songs have as their theme the love o f
Krishna, whose life he sings, taking particular delight in the child Krishna,
and the lover. His verse is renowned for its exquisite melody, and the con
ciseness o f his little tableaux reminds one o f the contemporary Rajasthan
Krishna miniatures, which also vividly evoke the village life o f the time. A s a
poet he is put second only to Tulsidas. His poetry is suffused with an essenti
ally tender bhakti, sometimes passionate, yet never too explicitly physical,
often full o f pathos, and pervaded with a gentle affection for all that lives.
278 Medieval Hindu Devotionalism
As the moth for love o f the lotus loses itself in the flower
and yet is happy; so am I Thy devotee, my Lord!
As the stag for delight of a tune stands unconcernedly near the
axe of the huntsman; so am I Thy devotee.
As the pigeon for desire of the sky soars higher though only to be
dashed to the ground; so am I Thy devotee, Beloved!
As the rain-bird in its utter loneliness calls its lover continuously,
so I wait for a vision of Thee, my Lord!
For I feel forsaken and lonely and sad.7
SOUTH INDIA
It was in the south that the new devotional movement Originally started,
and we saw how it spread to the north and changed the religious panorama o f
north India. In general, one can say that in the south the devotional move
ment was much more closely wedded to the strong theological traditions and
the sects than in the north, although here too the movement threw up the
occasional individualistic revolutionary. Our concern is not with the theolo
gians and sects themselves, however, but with the devotional popular move
ment as it expressed itself in the vernaculars.
In Tamil-land the hymns o f the Àlvârs and the N àyanârs continued to
dominate the scene, and they soon gained the status o f divine scripture and
became part and parcel o f temple worship as well as o f popular devotional life.
The first great poet to follow them is K am ban (twelfth century), author o f the
famous Tam il Râmâyana, which is replete with descriptions o f the country
and times o f the Cholas. T he Mahâbhârala and the Bhâgavata Parana also
found their Tam il translators. M uch o f the Vaishnavite effort, however, went
into Sanskrit compositions, and even much o f its vernacular literature de
rived closely from the Sanskrit, and preferred the purânic approach and style.
Th e Sa ivi tes produced a new devotional literature by the hymnodists called
Sittars or Siddhas. Their innumerable songs gained great popularity, and,.in
their fierce monotheism and equally fierce condemnation o f idolatry, they
arrayed themselves against the powers o f orthodoxy.
The earliest K annada literature was predominantly Jain, but the Hindu
renaissance was inaugurated by Basava towards the end o f the twelfth century.
He founded the sect o f the ViraSaivas or the Lingàyats, characterized by its
numerous monasteries and by the large measure o f its social equality, which
had a tremendous influence on the K annada country. T h ey invented a new
kind o f vernacular literature, the vachana, little pieces o f rhythm ic prose ser
mons, meant for the people and inculcating bhakti to Siva. F o r over three
centuries enormous numbers o f these vachanas were composed. The Lingàyats
also left collections o f hymns, and a hagiographie literature in praise o f their
saints. Here is a sample o f a vachana:
Oh pay your worship to God now— before the cheek turns wan, and the neck is
wrinkled, and the body shrinks— before the teeth fall out and the back is bowed, and
you are wholly dependent on others— before you need to lean on a staff, and to raise
yourself by your hands on your thighs— before your beauty is destroyed by age and
Death itself arrives. Oh now worship Kfidala-sangama-deva.*
Vaishnava literature in K annada really started from the sixteenth century,
during the Hindu kingdom o f Vijayanagara, first with translations from the
Sanskrit classics, the Mahâbhârata, the Râmâyana, and the Bhâgavata
Purâna. These were then followed by popular songs composed and sung by
the dâsas, or mendicant singers, inspired by M adhvàchârya and stimulated by
the visit o f Chaitanya to the south in 1510. This tradition continued for a
couple o f centuries, producing songs in praise o f Vishnu, some venerating him
in the form o f the Vithobâ o f Pandharpur, thus linking up with the M aharash
trian tradition.
M y stock {of sugar candy) is not packed on the backs of strong kioc;
Nor pressed into bags strongly fastened with twine.
Wherever it goes it no taxes doth pay
But still is most great, and brings profit, I say.
It wastes not with time; never gives a bad smell;
Y o u ’ve nothing to pay, though you take it right well;
White ants cannot eat the fine sugar with me;
The city resounds as its virtue men see.
From market to market ’tis needless to run;
The shops know it not, the bazaar can have none.
My candy, you see, is the name o f Vishnu,
So sweet on the tongue that gives praise as is due.10
Telugu literature follows closely the pattern o f development o f K annada
literature, starting with Jain texts, and then moving on to a Hindu renaissance
8 L. D . Bamett, The Heart of India, London, 1913, pp. 91-2.
* E. P. R ic e , Kanarese Literature, L o n d o n , 1921, p. J7. 10I b id ., p. 82.
Medieval Hindu Devotionalism
view that the Q ur’an was the duplicate o f a celestial original, they proclaim ed
that it had been created. Under the patronage o f the ‘A bbàsid C aliph M â ‘ -
mOn (813-33), the M u'tazilâs ruthlessly persecuted their opponents, thus
setting a precedent for the relentless inquisition into free thinking later prac
tised by the orthodox.
The M u'tazilâs made a more positive contribution to Sunnï orthodoxy,
however, through A b u ’ l Hasan al-A sh'arl (873-935) a zealous M u 'taziliie
who had learnt their techniques before deserting them, and evolved his ow n
system o f rational argument for the defence o f orthodox doctrine, know n as
kalàm. Parallel to the A sh 'ari School developed the orthodox M âturîdl
School o f A b u Mansûr M àturîdî (died in 944). T h e differences between the
two schools are listed as thirteen, but they are m ore serious than ackn ow
ledged.
The A sh 'ari system made great progress under the leadership o f its most
outstanding protagonist, A b ü Hâm id al-G hazàlI (10 58 -1111), w ho fought
against all non-orthodox Sunni systems, including those o f the Falâsîfa
(philosophers) such as F arâbî (c. 870-950) and Avicenna (980-1037) w ho
based their thinking upon Aristotelian, Platonic, or N eoplatonic w orks trans
lated from G reek into A ra b ic between the ninth and eleventh centuries.
The influence o f G hazall was m uch greater, because o f the new M uslim
religious leaders produced by the educational system devised by the Saljuqld
vizier, N izàm u’l M ulk TusI (e. 1018-92). This centred on seminaries o f higher
Sunnite learning known as madrasas, designed specifically to produce scholars
o f the A sh 'ari School qualified to run the government in accordance with
orthodox Sunni ideas. K n ow n as ‘ ulama’ (singular, 'Slim ), these scholars were
mostly government officials whose religious prestige was exploited by the
sultans as a counterpoise against am bitious m ilitary adventurers. But al
though the 'ulama' issued fatwâs (legal opinions) declaring that opposition to
the ruling authority was an abom inable sin, not all o f them were themselves
loyal to their rulers. Am bitious ‘ ulama’ did in fact join w ith m ilitary leaders
in plots to replace strong monarchs by their own puppets. M an y monarchs
were able to overcome such situations only by drawing upon the support
o f the süfîs. N o sultan could wield pow er successfully unless he was. able to
balance the interests o f the ‘ ulama’ , the süfîs, and the m ilitary leaders— the
three main pressure groups.
C ontrary to the ‘ ulama’ , who specialized in the form al structure o f Islam ic
law and dealt with the practical requirements o f political, social, and econ o
m ic life,’ the süfîs claimed to penetrate to the very root and spirit o f Islam .
Professor Arberry describes süfism as ‘ the attempt o f Individual M uslim s to
realize in their personal experience the living presence o f A lla h ’ .
In the form ative period, süfîs generally led a retired ascetic life; but gradu
ally they evolved a corporate system o f their own, ideas and practices being
borrowed from Christian and Buddhist monasticism and philosophy from
Neoplatonism and Upanishadic concepts. Their originality lay in incorporat
ing these influences within the fram ew ork o f Islam, thus m aking them an in
tegral part o f M uslim life.
The most authentic exposition o f süfism is contained in the Risala (Epistle)
o f A b u ’l Qâsim at-Qushairl (d. 1074). W hat endowed süfism with great
284 Islam in Medieval India
prestige, however, and led to its being regarded as the pinnacle o f religious
life, was the sudden change in A b ü Hâmid al-G hazàlî’s life, when in 1095 he
resigned from the chair o f divinity in the N izâm iyya academy o f Baghdad to
lead the life o f a sufi. Poetry also contributed to making sûfism a popular
movement, and its organizational structure did much towards keeping it an
effective one. By the twelfth century, süfïs were divided into différent silsilas
(orders), each with its pir (preceptor), also known as Shaikh or Khwdja, as an
infallible guide fo r the neophyte. Until the fourteenth century, a pir only
initiated disciples into his own order, but later on distinguished preceptors
were authorized to initiate disciples into other orders too.
Th e khânqâh (hospice) was the centre o f the pir s ’ activity, attracting from
afar men seeking the spiritual life. Such disciples were graded into different
categories, the m ost advanced joining the pir in his prayers and meditational
exercises. Som e khânqâhs provided board and lodging for a large number o f
disciples and visitors. Initially the inmates o f the khânqâh lived on the charity/
o f the local inhabitants, but as time went by their affluence grew in step with
their popularity. So much were they venerated, that tbeir relics were sanctified
and worshipped by posterity.
The earliest su fi o f eminence known to have settled in India, where the rich
Hindu m ystic traditions gave a new vitality to süfism, was Hujwiri, .also known
as D ata G anj Bakhsh (died after 1088), the author o f the celebrated manual o f
süfism entitled Kashfu'l Mahjiib. _
The development o f several new su fi orders in the twelfth century led to the
establishment o f a network o f khânqâhs, mainly in Iran, .Central A sia, and
India. In India the first leading khânqâh was established at M ultan by Shaikh
Baha’ u’d-D ln Zakariyya (1182-1262). He was also the founder in India o f the
SuhrawardI order originated by Shaikh Shihâbu’d-Dln SuhrawardI (1145
1234), the author o f an A rabic manual oji süfism entitled 'Awârifu’ l-A la 'ârif.
Rulers, high government officials, and merchants lavished gifts upon these
khânqâhs, and the hagiological literature relates how, with its overflowing
granaries and general affluence, the khânqâh was often able to give financial
assistance to the state. Shaikh B ahâ’ u’d-Dîn Zakariyya openly took Iltulm ish’s
side in his struggle against Qabàcha, and received from him the title o f
Shaikhu’l IsIàm (‘ Leader o f Islam ’). He avoided ordinary men and associated
only with the religious and political élite. His grandson, Shaikh R ukn u’d-DIn
A b u ’l F ath (died 1335), in his turn was highly respected by Sultan 'A la V d - D in
and the Tughluq sultans. Another SuhrawardI sü fi, Shaikh Shihâbu’d-Dln’ s
disciple Shaikh Jalàlu’d -D ïn T abrëzî, failed in his efforts to establish suprem
acy in D elhi, and retired to Bengal, where he established a khânqâh and a
langar (centre for the distribution o f free meals), first at LakhnautI, and then
at D evatalla near Pânduâ. H e is said to have converted a large number o f
Bengalis to Islam.
The Panjâb, Sind, and Bengal thus became three im portant centres o f
SuhrawardI activity. It appears that the Suhrawardls were keen to convert
Hindus to Islam, and they were helped to do this by their affluence and con
nections with those in power. Suhrawardls such as M akhdûm Jahâniyân
(1308-84), w ho had travelled to various parts o f the Islam ic world, and his
brother Râju Qattâl were militant evangelists.
Islam in Medieval India 285
The second outstanding order to establish khânqàhs in the towns conquered
by the Ghürid invaders was the Chishtlyya, originating from a village near
Herat called Chisht or K hw âja Chisht. It was brought to India by K hw âja
M u ‘ïuu’d-Dïn who was bom in Sijistân in c. 1141. H aving visited the im
portant centres o f Islam ic culture in the Middle East, where he came in con
tact with Shaikhs o f all the im portant sufi orders, he went to Lahore, finally
settling in Ajm er about 1206. T h e story that he settled there when Prithvl-
râja was at the height o f his power, and that his curse upon the Ràjâ, with
whom he had quarrelled, led to his downfall, is nothing more than a pious
legend. In medieval times such tales were used to prove the superiority o f faith
over political power; yet some modern scholars use them as evidence that the
süfîs were the great missionaries o f Islam. W hen stricken in years, K h w âja
M u ‘înu’d-Dîn married tw o wives. T he hagiologists say this was done so that
none o f the Prophet M uham m ad’s practices should go unfollow ed; but it is
more probable that the K hw âja had at last decided to live a settled life. By the
time he died in 1236, Chishtï khânqàhs were firmly established in many parts
o f the D elhi sultanate. ’
A t N âgau r an important Chishtï centre was established by Shaikh Haml-
du’ d-Dïn N âgaurl, whose parents were probably merchants w ho had lived in
Delhi before the Ghürid conquest. T he Shaikh was certainly born there,
about 1 192, and he came into contact with K hw âja M u'Inu’d-DIn at an early
age. Guided by his ascetic temperament, he decided to settle at Sw all in
N âgaur, where he lived uutil his death in 1274 .like an ordinary Ràjasthânî
cultivator, dissociating him self com pletely from those in political power. He
was an authority on G hazâli’s works, and a passionate advocate o f the value
o f studying his Kimiyâ’ i-Sa‘âdai. He was a strict vegetarian. He adopted the
local language, called in Persian Hindawl, as his own, and the Hindawl verses
ascribed to him and his successors arc the best extant examples o f early
H indawl translations o f Persian mystical poetry.
The Chisht! centre in Delhi nourished because o f the towering personality
o f K hw âja Qutbu’d-D în Bakhtyâr K à k ï (died 1236), the successor there o f
K hw âja M u'Inu’d-DIn Chishtï. Although he took no interest in political
activities, his immense spiritual prestige made his khânqâh a rendezvous fo r
M uslim s from all walks o f life. His successor, Babà Farld u ’d-D ln Ganj-i-
Shakar (died 1265), continued living in his own khânqâh in Ajôdhan (Pàk
Pattan), so the Delhi centres became the charge o f K hw âja Qutbu’d-D ln’s
other disciples, in particular Badru’d-DIn G haznavl. This did not prevent the
people o f Delhi, merchants, and even passing armies, from paying their re
spects at Babà Farid’s khânqâh in the P an jâb ..
Delhi became the real Chisht! centre, mainly because o f Bàbâ Farid’s
talented successor, Shaikh N izâm u’ d-Dln A u liyâ’, who from 1287 until his
death in 1325 was the focus for Muslims all over northern India. M uhammad
bin Tughluq has been blamed by scholars for destroying the im portance o f
D elhi as the. centre o f the Chisht! order, but in actual fact N izàm u’d-D ln’s
successor, Shaikh N asiru’d-Dîn Chirâgh-i-Dihli, died in 1356 without be
queathing the Chishti mantle to a successor. A nd in any case centralization
was no part o f the süfi tradition.
In Bengal, the Chishti order was introduced by Sirâju’d-Dïn A k h î Siràj
286 Islam in Medieval India
(died 1357), who lived in G aur. His successors, the most popular o f whom was
N ür Qutb-i-‘À lam (died 1410), established their khânqâhs in Pânduâ. In close
touch with this Bengal centre was the Rudaulï centre, about fifty miles east o f
Lucknow. The founder o f this latter group was Shaikh ‘A lâ ’u’d-D în ‘A li bin
Ahm ad Sàbir (died 1291), a disciple o f Babà Farid. H e him self retired to
Kalyar, about 150 miles east o f D elhi, and his two immediate successors lived
in Pànipat; but Ahm ad bin ‘A b d u ’l Haq (died 1434), third in the order o f
succession in this Sâbiriyya-Chishtîyya branch, established his khânqàh at
Rudaulï, then under the Sharqi rulers o f Jaunpur. Another member o f this
branch, Shaikh ‘A b d u ’l Quddus (c. 1455—1536/7), who established his khânqàh
at G angoh in the Sahâranpür district o f western U ttar Pradesh, made the
Sâbiriyya-Chishtîyya branch very famous in Delhi. ''S
Another Chishti, Saiyid M uham m ad G ësû D arâz (c. 1320-1422), made the,
first capital o f the Bahmani D ynasty, Gulbarga (in the north o f the present
K arnataka State), the centre o f his activities. A number o f other Chishti
‘ saints’ , compelled by Sultan M uham m ad bin Tughluq to leave D elhi fo r .
D aulatâbâd, also becam e instrumental in spreading Chishti süfism in the D ec
can. The disintegration o f the central power, and the emergence ò f the pro
vincial dynasties in the fifteenth century, provided more patrons, and led to
the establishment o f Chishti khânqâhs all over India. ’■
The Chishti süfis urged their disciples to lead a life o f poverty and ascetic
ism. Their simple life devoted to A llah , their dependence upon the charity o f
ordinary people, and théir immediate distribution to the poor o f any money
they received, made a favourable impression upon all sections o f the Muslim
population, and even upon Hindus. M uch interest was aroused by their,
practice o f pâs-i-anfâs (control o f breath), meditation, chilla (forty days o f
hard ascetic exercises in a cell or some lonely place), and chilla'i-ma'kus
(forty days o f ascetic exercise performed with the head on the ground and the
legs tied to the ro o f or a branch o f a tree). Their most popular practice was
samâ‘ (the recital o f holy songs), which was intended to- arouse a state o f
ecstasy in their audience. This practice, which shocked the orthodox, was not
a Chishti innovation.lQushairi and G hazâli had already given it their blessing
and drawn up rules for it. In the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the
'ulam a' tried to have the government stop the practice, and severàl open de
bates were held to condemn samà‘ , but théy were foiled by sQfi influence. In
1 attempting to restore orthodoxy and forge an alliance with th e ' ulama'. Shaikh
N asîru’d-Din Chiràgh and some o f his disciples managed to persuade the
'ulam â' in their turn to moderate their attitude towards saniâ', which gave it
some respectability in strict circles.
By the thirteenth century, the sü fï theory o f the Unity o f Being, or Oneness
o f Existence, know n as Wahdaiu'l Wujûd, which had emerged through the
works o f the sufi scholar Ibn ‘ A ra b i (1165-1240), had made an im pact on the
w hole ethos o f Islam. It differed both from the Ash'arite conception o f ‘ the
necessary (wâjib) existence o f the Creator, W ho alone exists from all eternity,
and.alone is self-subsisting’, and from the Indian monist view ‘ Thou A f t
T h a t’ . Ibn ‘A rabi emphasized that, as transcendence and immanence are two
fundamental aspects o f Reality, G od is both Transcendent and Immanent..
'H e is absolute Being, and is the sole source o f all.existence; m Him alone
Islam in Medieimi India 287
Being and Existence are one and inseparable’. ‘ There is no such thing as
union with G od in the sense o f becoming one with G od, but there is the re
alization o f the already existing fact that the mystic is one with G o d ’ .
This philosophy was very com patible w ith the theistic philosophy o f
G orakhnâth and his followers, known in sufi literature as N âth Y ogis, N àth
Panthls, Kànphata (split-ear) Yogis, or simply as Y o g is or Jogis, who dom in
ated the popular level o f Hindu religious and ethical life from the thirteenth to
the fifteenth centuries. T hey had even earlier counterparts in the Siddhas, w ho
came into contact with sufis as early as the eleventh century. B ooks o f silfi
discourses indicate that the Y o gis were welcome guests in Bàbà F arid ’s
khânqâh and in the Chishtï khânqâhs in every town. Sflfis found the Y o g i de
finition o f Ultimate Reality rem arkably similar to the ideas o f Unity o f Being
expressed in the works o f their own Persian poets. On an intellectual level,
süfîs were influenced by a hatha-yogic treatise entitled Amrita Kwida. It was
translated several times into A ra b ic and Persian, and taught the süfïs their
meditative practices, as well as imparting information about herbs and
chemistry. Various anecdotes indicate that süfîs approved o f some ethical
values o f the Y o g is as well as o f their corporate w ay o f living.
A t samà' gatherings in many khânqâhs, Persian poetry began to be relegated
to the background as Hindawi poetry, with a ll its âaivite and Vaishnavite
imagery, came to the fore. Since Hindawi poetry was already at a highly de
veloped stage by the time M ullà D âü d (a nephew o f Shaikh N asiru’d-D in
Chirâgh) wrote the Chandâ'in in 1379-80, it would seem that there must have
been a much earlier H indaw i poetry now lost. Fifteenth- and sixteenth-
century su fi Hindi poetry developed equally well in both rural and urban en
vironments. The emergence o f fifteenth-century sants (‘ saints’) such as K a b ir
and N àn ak, and the devotional literature associated with them, which con
stituted a new phase in bhakti, were the result o f two centuries o f interaction
between Hindu sants and sufis.
The development o f madrasas changed the intellectual and ethical climate.
In the m ain they follow ed the curriculum evolved by N izâm u ’ l M ulk, and
trained ‘ ulamâ’ (scholars) to man the civil service. This training for an ad
ministrative career included the study o f works o f Q ur’anic exegesis, Hadis,
and some su fi texts, but the main emphasis was on fiqh. T he madrasas and
their teachers were m ostly supported by state grants and stipends, but the
system was free enough for madrasas to be established by nobles and the pious
rich. This made the ‘ ulama’ dependent upon the state or upon the nobility, but
both kings and nobles in their turn stood in need o f the ‘ ulamâ ’ ’s fatwâs (legal
opinions) to suppress subversive elements. T he 'ulam â' tried to influence state
policy, and prevailed upon the rulers to enforce orthodoxy. T he extremists
am ong them, such as N ü ru ’d-DIn M ubarak G haznaw i (died 1234-5), even
openly demanded that Hindus be either slaughtered or converted to Islam.
Balban, ‘Alâ-’u ’d-Dïn K halji, and M uham m ad bin Tughluq, however, en
sured that the ‘ ulamâ’ had as little influence as possible u pon affairs o f state.
Scholars have differed in their interpretation o f the process o f Islam ization.
Sir Thom as Arnold, nurtured in the liberal traditions o f Europe, seeks in his
Preaching o f Islam (1895) to present the process as a purely peaceable m ove
ment led by the süfîs. M odern M uslim scholars, particularly Indian M uslim s,
288 Islam in Medieval India
think that the rigidity o f the caste system was responsible for the conversion
o f low-caste Hindus to Islam. A contem porary view, expressed by the eminent
Chishti saint, Ja'far M akkl, whose long life stretched from the close o f
M uham m ad bin Tughluq’s reign to the early years o f Sultan Bahlol L o d i’s,
was that conversions were very complex phenomena. Fear o f death or o f the
enslavement o f families, promises o f rewards and pensions, prospects o f
booty and, lastly, the bigotry o f the Hindus, were the main factors in prosely-
tization.-He considered that M uslim preaching also contributed to Islamiza-
tion, but that there was no place for such preaching in Chishti khânqàhs.
Such SuhrawardI proselytizing activities as are known cannot therefore be
ascribed to the m oral or spiritual force o f Islam, being more akin to conver
sion b y force. T h e preaching was done mainly by madrasa teachers, official
preachers, and qàzis, or M uslim judges, w ho were the butt o f attacks by both
süfîs and Hindu sanls. B y withdrawing state support for proselytizing activi
ties and stopping forced conversion to Islam, A kb ar compelled the preachers
and the orthodox to rely on their own resources, thereby 'courting their
hostility.
Th e fifteenth and sixteenth centuries saw the introduction o f many new
elements into Islam in India. One was coriflict between the followers and
opponents o f iVahdalu’ l IVnjiid, exacerbated by the arrival o f the disciples o f
Shaikh ‘ A là ’u’d-D aula Simnànï (1261-1336}, the great Irani opponent o f Ibn
‘A rabi. In contradistinction to Ibn ‘A rabl’s theory, ‘A là ’u’d-D aula said that
Being cannot be identified with G o d ; it is distinct from His essence although
eternally inherent in Him . H e believed that Wahdatu’ l-Wujüd was the initial
stage in the development o f sufism, the final stage being his own theory o f
ÎYahdatu'sh-Shuhüd (U nity o f Perception). H e urged his followers to lead an
active life o f missionary w ork, and strongly denounced the quiet and passive
life o f the khânqâh. A band o f his followers seem to have had som e success
with G ësü D arâz o f Gulbarga, who wrote a letter condemning as misguided
the works o f Ibn ‘A rab ! and su fi poets such as Rüm l. However, the Chishti
traditions o f Wahdain'l Wujüd were too strong for Gësü D arâz, and his writ
ings opposing Ibn ‘ A ra b l’s thought did not find much popularity. M ir Saiyid
‘A ll HamadànI (1314-85), another member o f Simnànî’s order, entered
Kashm ir with a band o f followers. A lthough he made little im pact, and left
K ashm ir in frustration, those o f his sons and disciples w ho continued to visit
and settle there introduced orthodoxy into many aspects o f the religious life o f
K ashm ir.
Sim nànï’ s Shuhüdi ideology received its. main setback when the ShattàrI
order was established by Shaikh ‘A b d u ’llàh ShattàrI, w ho reached India to
wards the end o f his life, after visiting many sü fî centres in the M iddle East.
In India he travelled as far as Bengal before returning to M àlw à, where he
died in 1485. H e loudly challenged everyone, sü fî and yogi alike, either to
teach him U nity o f Being if they knew more than he, or to learn about it from
him. W hile he him self propagated his mission in M àlw à, his disciples estab
lished strong ShattàrI centres in Bengal and Jaunpur, where the writing o f
beautiful sü fî poetry in local dialects blossomed.
The Em peror H um àyün’s devotion to the Shattàrls made him unpopular
with all other su fi orders, particularly with the Naqshbandis, who were the
Islam in Medieval India 289
patron saints o f the Turânïs or Central Asian Muslims. This order was one o f
thfc oldcst sû fl orders, and flourished in Transoxiana in the midst o f the still
living Buddhist traditions o f that region. First know n as the Silsila i-K hw àj-
gàn, under the leadership o f K hw àja Bahà’ u’ d-Dïn M uham m ad N aqshband
(1317-89) it became known as the Naqshbandl order. One o f its m ost dis
tinguished saints was K hw àja ‘ Ubaidu’llâh A hràr (1404-91), who took an
active part in political struggles and made strenuous efforts to save the Sunnis
from the Shi'ï onslaught on their faith. Although the K hw àja had died when
Bâbur was only seven, the latter drew ever-increasing inspiration from his
teachings. In H um àyün’s reign the Naqshbandis suffered temporary eclipse,
but under A k b ar many Naqshbandi saints occupied high governm ent posts.
Tow ards the end o f A k b a r’s reign the Naqshbandi order was reorientated by
K hw àja Bàql B i’Uâh (1563-1603), who settled in Delhi in 1599. In the few
years before his death, he was able, on the basis o f the form er reputation o f
the Naqshbandi order, to enrol as his disciples m any eminent M ughal noble
men drawn to sü fi teachings.
In the fifteenth century the Qâdirî order, started by Shaikh ‘ A b d u ’l Q âdir
Jïlàni (1077-1166), established a firm hold in the Panjjib and Sind. T he cele
brated sQfi scholar, Shaikh ‘A b d u ’l H aq Muhaddis o f D elhi (1551-1642), had
Qàdiri preceptors, but the order owed its popularity not to him but to the
Sindi, M iyàn M ir (1550-1635), w ho advocated a broad and humane outlook
on life, and urged both Jahângîr and Shâh Jahàn to be considerate to all
groups o f their subjects. Distinctions between believers and kdfirs, and heaven
and hell, were frivolous; true prayer was devoted obedience to the will o f G od .
His disciple M ullâ Shâh was both a mystic and a poet. H e defined a believer
as one who could reach G od and behold him, and a kdfir as one who failed to
do so. M ullâ Shâh had been D àrâ Shukôh’s preceptor, and after his execution
Aurangzeb tried to harass him, but such was his popularity that the Emperor
was unable to do anything more drastic than banish him from Delhi.
The faldsifa, or M uslim Peripatetic thinkers, came to be hated by the ortho
dox Sunnï world as a result o f G bazàlï’s denunciation. Baranl considered
them as dangerous enemies o f the Delhi sultanate as the Ism â‘ îlîs, ascribing
Sultan M uham mad bin Tughluq’s atrocities to his devotion to the works o f
these philosophers.
Although the M ongols destroyed many centres o f Islamic culture in Central
A sia and Iran, the religious freedom they allowed individual scholars w ho
supported them led to the revival o f the study o f philosophy, mathematics,
and the physical sciences at their courts. A t one o f them, N asîru’ d-Dîn Tüsï
(1201-74) w rote commentaries on Avicenna’s works. His Akhlâq-i-Nâsirî, a
work on ethics and philosophy, became a textbook for institutions o f higher
learning everywhere in the Persian-speaking world.
T he w ay o f thinking cultivated by Avicenna’s School was based on Peri
patetic philosophy and syllogistic reasoning, but the Ishrâqi (Illuminatisi)
School o f Iran started by Shaikh Shibàbu’d-Dln SuhrawardI MaqtuI (1153
91) emphasized that reason and intuition were necessary complements one o f
the other. Reason w ithout intuition and illumination, according to Suhra-
wardi, is puerile and half-blind and can never reach the transcendent source
o f all truth and intellection. The Ishràqîs freely borrowed ideas from the
290 Islam in MedievaUndia
ancient Prophets, from Hermetic traditions, and even from the Zoroastrians.
Their symbolism was compatible with both sufi gnosis and Shi'i thought, with
which it is often inextricably entangled. T im ur’s patronage o f Peripatetic
scholars was continued in the courts o f his successors. B y the fifteenth century,
M ultân and G ujarât had become important centres for Ishrâqï and other
M uslim Peripatetic scholars, whose strong grounding in Muslim theology en
abled them to defeat the A sh 'ari kalâm on its own grounds.
T w o prominent Peripatetic scholars o f Sultan Sikandar’s reign were Shaikh
‘ A zizu ’ llah and Shaikh ‘A b d u ’llâh; ‘A b d u ’llâh attracted the support o f many
eminent scholars in Delhi and its vicinity. The most outstanding Ishrâqt im
migrant was M ir R a fi'u ’d-Din Safavl (died 1547) who was greatly respected
by all the Delhi sultans from Sikandar to Islâm Shâh Sur.
Bâbur and Humâyûn were accompanied to India by a large number o f
Irani scholars, poets, and philosophers, as well as by soldiers o f fortune, and
A k b a r’s patronage o f the arts and sciences accelerated the immigration o f the
first three groups. Badâ’ ünl, the orthodox Sunni historian at A k b ar’s Court,
gives us to understand that all o f them were Shl'is, blit in fact many o f them
were Ishràqïs or Tafzlliyas. Both the latter schools believe that although 'A li
should have succeeded Muhammad as the first Caliph, the matter was not o f
sufficient importance to let it cause bitterness so long afterwards.
A k b a r’s tolerant administrative laws, which deprived Sunnism of its position
o f dominance, upset many o f the orthodox. They made common cause with
elements dissatisfied for political reasons and in 1580 organized an abortive
rebellion; as a result, not only the political leaders, but also their supporters
from among the theologians, were punished. This made the orthodox change
their tactics. Instead o f opposing A kbar, they now sought to influence his
policy by m aking a show o f loyalty to him. A t the same time, they misrepre
sented his policies and activities so as to arouse hatred against him, and also
reviled the élite supporting the Emperor, blaming them for the downfall o f
orthodoxy. A s a result o f their efforts, A k b a r has gone down in history as, the
founder o f a new religion, which subsequently came to be called D in Ilàhi, but
which was never defined by his accusers, who merely presented a distorted
view o f his eclecticism and new policies. The orthodox Sunni point o f view is
voiced in Najatu'r Rashid, written by M ulla ‘ A bd u ’l Qàdir B adà’ünï in 1591.
Tension between the various religious groups mounted during Jahangir’s
reign. Immediately after his accession he banished Shaikh N izâm u’d-Dîn
Fârüqî Thâneswari, an eminent Chishti saint, for blessing his rebellious son
Khusrau. The Shaikh went to Transoxiana and died in Balkh, but not before
he had spread a distorted picture o f the M ughals in that part o f the world,
Jahangir then imprisoned Saiyid Ahm ad Afghan, a devoted supporter o f
‘A lâ ’u’d-Daulâ Simnânî’s Wahdatu'sh-Shuhûd, for he was known to have a
great following among the Afghans and thus be a likely danger to the state.
In 1610 Jahangir had a distinguished Irani Shi'ï, Q â zl N üru’llâh Shustari,
flogged to death, although he was seventy years old. Shi‘is ascribe this to
Jahangir’s bigotry, but the evidence o f contemporary Irani scholars tends to
indicate that the Q âzl.was the victim o f a plot by certain Sunni theologians,
whose subsistence gntnts he had reduced in A k b ar’s reign. His polemical
works are strongly critical o f the Sunnis, but his best-known work, Majqlis-
Islam in Medieval India 291
u'1-Mûminin, is a valuable contribution to Sh 5‘I history, in which he so extends
the definition o f Shi'ism as to include all the eminent süfîs.
Striving to benefit from the accession o f Jahangir were Shaikh ‘ A b d u ’J H aq
Muhaddis Dehlawl and Shaikh Ahm ad Sarhindi. They wrote letters to dis
tinguished nobles and imperial officials urging them to persuade the Em peror
to accord dominance to the Sunni Shari'a. Shaikh ‘ A b d u ’l H aq’s letters are
cautious, but Shaikh Ahm ad Sarhindi was outspoken in his demands, which
resembled Badà’ ünî’s. H e claimed to be himself the rebuilder o f the second
millennium (M ujaddid-Alf i-Sàni), and a great supporter o f Wahdaiu'sh-
Shuhfid. The publication o f Sarhindl’s letters and the claim s o f his disciples
alarmed Shaikh ‘A b d u ’l Haq, who wrote him a long letter o f protest. Jahangir
imprisoned Sarhindi in G w âlior fort in 1619-20. U pon bis release m ore than
twelve months later, he lived for some time in the imperial camp in order to
propagate his teachings. In his autobiography Jahangir says that Sarhindi ad
mitted to him that his punishment had been a valuable lesson. N aqshbandt
hagiological literature has exaggerated his achievements, and modern scholars
regard him as having been the saviour o f Sunnism, but in fact his efforts
failed to induce Jahangir to make any noticeable change in A k b a r’s policy o f
universal concord. The Emperor continued to admire saints o f peaceable dis
position, such as M iyân M ir and M ullà Shâh. H owever, all those w hom
Jahangir considered a'danger to the state, he punished ruthlessly. In 1627 he
decided to banish Shaikh 'A b d u ’l Haq, with whom he had form erly had good
relations, and Shaikh Husâm u’d-Dîn, an eminent disciple o f K hw âja B âqï
Bi’llâh, having already exiled to K abul ‘A b d u ’l H aq’s son, Shaikh N ü ru ’I Haq.
‘Abdu’ l H aq was only saved from exile by Jahângîr’s sudden death. Jahangir
called the süfîs lashkar i-du'â (army o f those w ho pray for the government)
and he expected them to support government policy in return fo r state
patronage. ■
In Shâh Jahân’s reign, the Chishtls again becam e prominent, although the
Qâdirl was the predominant^süfi order. The Chishtls claimed that they were
loyal supporters o f the government and the Emperor. Shaikh M uhibbu’llàh
o f Allahabad (died 1648) wrote commentaries on the works o f Ibn ‘ A rab! and
popularized his teachings through short treatises on the controversial issues
lie raised. In his letters, Shaikh M uhibbu’llàh denounced the Sunni emphasis
on kaldm, and urged concentration on acquiring true divine knowledge.
According to him, only those ascetics and mystics w ho lacked a true percep
tion o f spiritual perfection followed ‘A là ’ u’d-D aula SimnânI. He urged his
followers to acquire mystic knowledge even from the Hindus. He considered
himself too old to learn from Hindu philosophy and mysticism, but deputed
one o f his disciples to acquire knowledge in this field.
In A k b ar’s reign a large number o f Sanskrit works were translated into
Persian under his patronage, and after his death such translations continued
to be made by Muslim scholars w orking on their own initiative. For example,
‘ A bdu’r Rahmân Chishti syncretized Hindu theories o f cosm ogony in his
M ir'âlu'1-Makhlüqât, and offered an Islamizing explanation o f the Bhagavad
Gita. O f paramount importance was D àrâ Shukôh’s M ajm a'u'l Bahrain, prov
ing that Hindu and M uslim mysticism were parallel streams which could be
made to meet without much difficulty. His m ost valuable contribution to
292 Islam in Medieval India
Sikhism
by Hesv M c L e o d
1 ‘ It is altogether a distinct and original faith based on the teachings of Guru Nanak in
the form o f Ten Gurus, and now through Guru Granth Sahib and the Khaisa Panth.’
Gobind Singh Mansukhani, The Quintessence o f Sikhism, Amritsar, 1958, p. 1.
1 The original edition o f The Legacy o f India gives expression to both the second and the
third definitions. D r. Radhnkrishnan lists Jainism, Buddhism, and Sikhism as ‘ creations of
the Indian mind [whichl représent reform movements from within the fold o f Hinduism put
forth to meet the special demand's o f the various stages o f the Hindu faith' (op. cit., p. 259,
supra, p. 62). In the following chapter Abdul Qadir, in direct contradiction, cites Sikhism
in support o f his claim that ‘Islam has had a more direct influence in bringing into existence
monotheistic systems o f faith in India’ (ibid., p, 291).
Sikhism 295
duct o f a consciously eclectic intention; an attempt to fuse Hindu and M uslim
b elief within a single irenic system.
Tw o o f these definitions can be summarily dismissed. Both the M uslim and
the eclectic interpretations are based upon partial and superficial readings o f
Sikh sources. Indications o f M uslim influence do appear in the recorded
utterances o f the Gurus and in subsequent Sikh tradition, but in so far as they
constitute significant elements o f Sikh belief they norm ally do so in direct
contradiction to the M uslim influence.3 The eclectic interpretation depends
primarily upon a misreading o f certain passages w hich appear in the w orks o f
N ànak and o f a cryptic reference recorded in the traditional narratives o f his
life/ G urü N àn ak does indeed lo o k to a faith transcending both Hindu and
M uslim notions, but for him the required pattern o f belief and practice.is one
which spurns rather than blends.
The two remaining definitions require more careful attention. Even i f one is
unable to accept a doctrine o f divine inspiration, there remains an obligation
to consider the teachings o f N àn ak and his -successors in terms o f genuine
originality. H aving acknowledged this measure o f originality we m ust also
pay heed to those features o f Sikhism which so obviously derive from sources
within contem porary Indian society. This must be done in the light o f the
complete range o f Sikh history, from the period o f N àn ak to the present day.
The conclusion which will follow is that Sikhism is indeed a unique phenom e
non, but that this uniqueness derives m ore from its later developm ent than
from its earliest forms of-custom and belief.
Sikhism is generally held to derive from the teachings o f the first G urü,
N àn ak (1469-1539). In a sense this is true, for there can be no doubt that the
doctrines which he taught survive within the com m unity to this day. M o re
over, there can be no doubt that a direct connection links the com m unity o f
today with the group o f disciples who first gathered around N àn ak in the
Panjâb during the early years o f the sixteenth century. In another sense, how
ever, the claim is open to obvious objections. A n analysis o f the teachings o f
N ànak will demonstrate that the essential components o f his thought were
already current in the Indian society o f his period. N àn ak taught a doctrine o f
salvation through the divine N am e. Others were already preaching this doct
rine, and a comparison o f their beliefs with those o f the early Sikh com m unity
plainly shows that N ànak taught from within a tradition which had already
developed a measure o f definition.
This was the Nirguna Sampradâya, or Sant tradition o f northern India, a
devotional school com m only regarded as a part o f the tradition o f V aishnava
bhakti. A connection between the Sants and the Vaishnavas does indeed exist,
but there are distinctive features o f Sant doctrine which distinguish it from its
Vaishnava antecedents. M ost o f these can be traced to its other m ajor source,
Tantric Y o g a . The most prominent o f the Sants prior to N àn ak was K abir,
and it is no doubt due to the obvious similarities in their teachings that N àn a k
> This aspect is briefly covered below in the discussion o f eighteenth-century develop
ments. F o r a more detailed discussion o f this period and its results see W. H. M cLeod, The
Evolution o f the Sikh Community (Oxford, forthcoming).
4 ‘ There is neither Hindu nor M uslim.’ .See W. H . McLeod, Guni Nànak and the Sikh
Religion, Oxford, 1968, pp. 38 and 161.
296 Sikhism
5 Ibid., pp. 15J-8. Ch. Vaudeville, Au cabaret de rumour; paroles de Kablr, Paris, 19.59,
P P - f -9 '
Sikhism 297
no amount o f piety can save him. They must be rejected in favour o f altern
ative values. Salvation can be obtained only through a recognition o f the
alternative, aud through the faithful exercise o f a discipline which demonstr
ably produces the desired result.
N àn ak’s teachings concerning the way o f salvation are expressed in a num
ber o f key words which recur constantly in his works. G od , being gracious,
communicates his revelation in the form o f the sabad (sabda, ‘ w ord’) uttered
by the guru (the ‘ preceptor’). A n y aspect o f the created world which com
municates a vision or glimpse o f the nature o f G o d or o f his purpose is to be
regarded as an expression o f the sabad. The gurü who expresses, or draws
attention to, this revelation is not, however, a human preceptor. It is the
‘ vo ice’ o f G òd mystically uttered within the human heart. A n y means where
by spiritual perception is awakened can be regarded as the activity o f the
gurü.
D uly awakened by the gurü, the enlightened man looks around and within
himself and there perceives the hukam (the divine ‘ order’). Like its English
equivalent, the term hukam is used by N ânak in two senses, but it is the notion
o f harmony which is fundamental. Everywhere there can be perceived a
divinely-bestowed harmony. Salvation consists in bringing oneself within this
pattern o f harmony.
This requires an explicit discipline, the practice o f nâm sima ran or nâm
japan. T h e word nâm (‘ nam e’) signifies all that constitutes the nature and
being o f G o d ; and the verb simaranâ means ‘ to hold in rem em brance’ . The
alternate verb japanà means, literally, ‘ to repeat’, and for many o f the Sants a
simple, mechanical repetition o f a chosen name o f G o d (e.g. Râm) was
believed to be a sufficient method. For N ân ak much more is required. T he
pattern which he sets forth consists o f a regular, disciplined meditation upon
the nâm. The essence o f the nâm is harmony and through this discipline the
faithful devotee progressively unites him self with the divine harmony. In this
manner he ascends to higher and yet higher levels o f spiritual attainment,
passing eventually into the condition o f mystical bliss wherein all disharmony
is ended and, in consequence, the round o f transmigration is at last terminated.
The proof o f this is the experience itself. Only those who have attained it can
know it.
For most people a reference to Sikhism will at once evoke an impression o f
beards, turbans, and martial valour. It rarely suggests doctrines o f salvation
through patient meditation upon the divine Nam e. Both, however, belong to
Sikhism. In order to understand how they united it is necessary to trace the
history o f the Sikh community since the time o f N ânak.
Concerning N ânak him self relatively little can be known with assurance,
apart from the content o f his teachings. Hagiographie narratives abound
(the janam-sâkhïs), but their considerable importance relates principally to the
later period within which they evolved. It seems certain that N ânak was born
In 1469, probably in the village o f Talvandl in the central Panjâb. D uring his
early m anhood he was evidently employed in the town o f Sultanpur near the
confluence o f the Beàs and Satluj rivers. This was followed by a period visiting
pilgrimage centres within and perhaps beyond India, a period which figures
w ith particular prominence in the janam-sâkhi narratives. Eventually lie
298 Sikhism
settled in the village o f K artârpur above Lahore on the right bank o f the R avi
river and there died, probably in 1539.
The pattern o f teaching through the composition and communal singing o f
hymns was continued by N ân ak's first fou r successors and reached a climax
in the work o f Arjan, the fifth Guru (died 1606). During the time o f the third
G urü, A m ar D âs (died 1574), a collection was made o f the hymns o f the first
three Gurus and o f other writers (Sants and Süfîs) whose works accorded with
the teachings o f N ànak. T o this collection Guru A rjan added his own com
positions and those o f his father, Gurü R àm D âs. The new com pilation, re
corded in a single volume in 1603-4, became the primary scripture o f the
community (the A di Grartth later known as the Gurü Granth Sahib). N otable
amongst Gurü A rjan ’s own compositions is the lengthy hym n entitled
Sukhmani, an epitome o f the teachings o f the Gurüs.
In this respect the first four successors followed N ân ak’s example, faithfully
reproducing his teachings in language o f sustained excellence. T here were,
however, significant changes taking place within the com m unity o f their
followers. The more important o f these developments appear to have emerged
during the period o f the third Gurü. Whereas G urü N ânak had laid exclusive
emphasis upon the need for inner devotion, Guru Am ar D âs, faced by the
problems o f a growing community, introduced features which served to main
tain its cohesion. Distinctively Sikh ceremonies were instituted, a rudimentary
system o f pastoral supervision was begun, three Hindu festival-days were
appointed for assemblies o f the faithful, and the G urü’s own town o f G oindvâl
became a recognized pilgrimage centre.
A n even more significant development, one which should probably, be
traced right back to the period o f G urü N ànak, concerns the caste con
stituency o f the growing community. Whereas all o f the Gurüs belonged to
the urban-based mercantile K h atri caste, most o f their followers were rural
Jats. This preponderance o f Jats, which continues to the present day, is o f
fundamental importance in the later development o f the community. M any ó f
the features which distinguish the modern community from that o f Nanajc's •
day can be traced, as we shall see, to the pressure o f Jat ideals.
Signs o f Jat influence become apparent during the period o f the sixth Guru,
Hargobind (died 1644), an influence which is perhaps discernible even earlier,
during the years under Gurü A rjan. It was during this period that the com
munity first entered into overt conflict with the M ughal administration. A c
cording to tradition it was G urü Hargobind who first decided to arm his
followers, a decision which he is said to have reached following the death o f his
father A rjan in M ughal custody. There can be no doubt that the followers o f
G urü Hargobind did bear arms (three skirmishes were fought with M ughal
detachments between 1628 and 1631), yet it is difficult to accept that the
martial Jats would have spurned the use ó f arms prior to this period.
. These martial traditions received further encouragement within the com
munity as a result o f Gurü H argobind’s decision to withdraw'to the Shivâlik
hills in 1634. During their actual tenure o f the office o f Guru, all four o f .his
successors spent m ost o f their time in the Shivâliks. T he move was significant
in that it exposed thé developing community to the influence o f the dominant
é a k ti culture o f the hills area. This did not produce a transformation, but
Sikhism m
such features as the exaltation o f the sword which emerge prom inently during
the period o f the tenth G uru should probably be traced to Shivâlik influences.
It was during the lifetime o f the tenth G uru, G obind SiDgh (died 1708), that
the conflict with M ughal authority assumed serious proportions. S ikh tradi
tion ascribes to this period and to G uru G obind Singh the features which
distinguish the later com m unity from its precursor. It is said that G u ru
G obind Singh, confronted by the evident weaknesses o f his followers, decided
to transform them into a powerful force which would w age w ar in the cause o f
righteousness. This he did by inaugurating a new brotherhood, the K h âlsà,
in 1699.
T o this decision and its fulfilment are traced alm ost all the distinctive
features o f contem porary Sikhism. A ll who joined the K h âlsâ (both men and
women) were to accept baptism and swear to obey a new code o f discipline.
Prom inent amongst the requirements o f this new code were an obligation to
bear the panj kakke, or ‘ F ive K ’s ’ , and to refrain from various kurahit, or
‘ prohibitions’ . T h e F ive K ’ s comprised the k e i (uncut hair), the kanghâ
(comb), kirpân (dagger, or short sword), kara (bangle), and kachh (a variety o f
breeches which must not reach below the knee). The prohibitions included
abstinence from tobacco, from m eat slaughtered in the M uslim fashion(/ia/a/),
and sexual intercourse with M uslim women. A change o f nam e was also re
quired o f the initiate. A ll men w ho accepted baptism into the K h âlsâ brother
hood were thereafter to add Singh to their names, and all wom en were to add
K aur.
Sikh tradition also relates to the period and intention o f G uru G obind
Singh another o f the distinctive features o f the later Sikh com m unity. Im
mediately prior to his death in 1708 Gurü G obind Singh is said to have de
clared that with his demise the line o f personal G urus would com e to an end.
Thereafter the function and the authority o f the G urü w ould vest jo in tly in
the scripture (the gratuli, which accordingly comes to be know n as the Gurü
Granili Sâhib) and in the corporate com m unity (the panth, or Khâlsâ Partili).
Tradition thus accords to the period and to the deliberate purpose o f G urü
G obind Singh almost all o f the characteristic features w hich outwardly dis
tinguish the modern Sikh com m unity. It is a tradition which must in some
measure be qualified. There can be no doubt that som ething did in fact hap
pen in 1699 and no reason exists for questioning the claim that G u rü G obind
Singh instituted some kind o f brotherhood during his lifetime. Beyond this,
however, it is still difficult to proceed with assurance, fo r there is evidence
which suggests that particular features o f the K hâlsâ code must have emerged
subsequent to the death o f G urü G obind Singh in response to pressures inde
pendent o f his intention.
T w o o f these pressures deserve particular emphasis. There is, first, the con
tinuing im pact o f Jat ideals upon the com m unity, which num erically the Jats
dominated. During the period o f the Gurüs this influence would have been min
imized although, as the events o f G urü H argobind’s period indicate, it was by
no means without effect. W ith the termination o f the personal authority o f the
Gurü in 1708 the pressure to incorporate features derived from Jat cultural
patterns evidently became much stronger. T he confused political circum
stances o f eighteenth-century Panjâb further enhanced this Jat ascendancy,
300 Sikhism
for periods o f m ilitary strife would be handled with much greater success by
the martial Jats than by any other group in Panjâb society. Their ascend
ancy was by no means com plete (three o f the prominent leaders o f this period
were not Jats), but it was nevertheless extensive and it left its imprint upon the
evolving community. The militant attitude o f the Sikh com m unity must be
traced to this source, together with particular features such as the Five K 's.
The second o f the important eighteenth-century influences also concerns the
battles o f that century. Because Ahm ad Shâh A b d âlï chose to represent his
invasions as a Muslim crusade, the Sikh resistance developed a pronounced
anti-M uslim aspect.6 T o this development can be traced the three examples o f
the Five Prohibitions cited above.
It was also during this critically im portant century and the early decades o f
its successor that the Sikh doctrine o f the Gurü emerged in its modern form.
F or N ân ak the gurü, the voice o f G od, spoke mystically within the human
heart. Because N ân ak was believed to give utterance to the divine message the
title was conferred upon him, and upon his nine successors in the manner o f a
single flame successively igniting a series o f torches. The death o f Guru
G obind Singh without surviving heirs created a serious crisis, for ever since
the time o f the fourth Gurü, Râm D âs, the office had been hereditary within
his fam ily o f Sodhi Khatrls. A n attempt was made to continue the pattern o f
personal authority (a disciple named Banda was widely acknowledged as
leader until his execution in 1716), but disputes within the com m unity and its
dispersion during the period o f persecution which follow ed Banda’s death
eventually produced a different pattern o f leadership. ‘
D uring this period and the subsequent years o f the Afghan invasions there
emerged twelve separate guerilla bands (the misls). In order tó preserve a
measure o f cohesion the leaders o f the misls assembled on specified occasions
to discuss issues o f com m on interest. Together they constituted the Sikh
com m unity and it was as a community (panili) that they deliberated. Well
back in the period o f the personal Gurüs there had developed, in response to
the increasing growth and dispersion o f the com m unity, the doctrine that the
G u rü ’s bod ily presence was not actually essential. W herever a group o f the
faithful gathered to sing the songs o f the G urü, there the Gurü was himself
m ystically present. This doctrine was now extended to cover the periodic
meetings o f the mis! leaders. Assem blies were always held in the presence o f a
copy o f the sacred scripture and decisions reached by these assemblies were
acclaimed as the will o f the G uru (gurrnatta).
A further development in the doctrine o f the G uru cam e during the early
nineteenth century when M ahàràjà Ranjit Singh, having established his
dom inance over his fellow misaldârs, suppressed these confederate assemblies.
The doctrine o f the GurûPanth then lapsed into desuetude and in its place the
theory o f the Gurü Granlh assumed virtually exclusive authority. The presence
o f the Gurü in the scriptures had long been acknowledged. A ll that was re
quired was a shift iu emphasis.
T o this day the Guru Granlh Sâhib occupies the central position in all ex
pressions o f the Sikh faith. Decisions are com m only made by using it as an
6 Ahm ad Shâh Abdâlï o f AfghaoistaD invaded north India nine times between 1747 and
1769. '
Sikhism 301
oracle, continuous readings are held in order to confer blessing or avert
disaster, and the presence o f a copy is mandatory for all important cere
monies. The scripture which is used in this manner is Gurü A rjan ’s collection,
the A di Granili. It should be distinguished from the so-called Dasam Granili,
a separate collection compiled during the early eighteenth century which de
rives from the period o f G uru Gobind Singh. Although the Dasam Granili
also possesses canonical status it is in practice little used. The bulk o f the
collection consists o f a retelling o f legends from Hindu mythology.
Another institution which deserves special notice is the Sikh temple, or
gurdwârâ (guraduârâ, literally ‘ the G uru’s d o o r’). F ollow ing earlier prece
dents the disciples of N ànak in any particular locality would regularly gather
in a room set aside for their communal hymn-singing (kirlan). This room (or
separate building) was called a dharamsâlâ. As the community’s interests ex
panded beyond the narrowly devotional into areas o f much wider concern the
function o f the dharamsâlâ expanded accordingly. In the process its name
changed to guraduârâ. The gurdwârâs still remain the centre and focus o f the
community’s activities, partly because their substantial endowments provide
a considerable annual income. Contem porary Sikh political activity (ex
pressed through the A k àil party) depends to a marked degree upon control o f
the wealthier o f these institutions. T he most famous o f all gurdwârâs, and still
the primary centre o f Sikh politicai power, is the celebrated Golden Temple
in Amritsar.
Out o f these five centuries o f history there has emerged the modern Sikh
community, a community which occupies in the life o f India today a position
o f prominence considerably in excess o f its actual numerical strength.7 Sikhs
today are renowned for their participation in progressive farming, the armed
forces, sport, and the transport industry. In all four areas the prominence
belongs principally to Jat Sikhs, the caste group which still constitutes more
than half o f the total strength o f the community. O f the other groups which
have significant representations within the community, the K batrïs and the
Arorâs, both mercantile castes, are more particularly distinguished for their
work in manufacturing industries, commerce, and the professions. Other sub
stantial constituents are a group o f artisan castes, jointly known as Râmgarhlà
Sikhs; and converts to Sikhism from the scheduled castes (M azhabï and
Râmdâsiâ Sikhs).
Although a measure o f caste consciousness certainly persists within the
community, all can join the K hàlsà brotherhood and observe the common
discipline. Here, however, a final qualification is required. A lthough Khàlsà
organizations normally insist that only the K hàlsà Sikh is a true Sikh, there
are others who lay claim to the title without observing the formal discipline.
These are the so-called sahaj-dhâri Sikhs, noted for their adherence to the
devotional patterns taught by G urü N ànak and his successors. In a sense
7 The total number of Sikbs living in India today is approaching 61 million, or 1-75 per
cent o f the country’s population. O f this total number 94 per cent live in the Panjâb,
Haryànà, Delhi, and the northern district o f Râjasthân. There arc substantial pockets of
Sikh emigrants in East Africa, Malaysia, and England. (More than 75 per cent o f the recent
entrants into the United Kingdom from India have been Sikhs.) Smaller groups are to be
found in several other countries.
CHAPTER XXI
S i n c e th e beginning o f the Christian era, Indian literature has had at least two
m ajor vehicles: Sanskrit with its many Indo-Âryan offshoots, Pàli, the various
Prakrits and their later developments, through the stage o f Apabhram sa, into
the modern languages o f northern India; and the fou rD ravid ian languages o f
southern India. T w o other distinct speech-families, the Nishàda or A ustrie
(the oldest and m ost indigenous) and Kirâta or Sino-Indian, have also existed
side byjside for 3,000 years or more, but apart from what they have contri
buted, by w ay o f vocabulary, grammar, and folk-lore, to the developm ent
o f the Indo-Âryan and Dravidian languages and literatures, they have not
served as literary vehicles o f m ajor significance.
T o some extent the multiple character o f Indian literature was always there.
Even in the heydey o f classical Sanskrit, there existed side by side a consider
able body o f non-conformist literature in other languages— in P âli, in the
Prâkrits, and in Tam il. Nevertheless, there is no doubt that Sanskrit was the
unifying link which has maintained the continuity o f Indian civilization.
W hile it has never wholly ceaséd to do this, its vitality was impaired under the
onslaught o f M uslim invasions beginning with the eleventh century. T hen it
lost its exclusive sovereign claim as the fountain-head o f national culture in
India, and had to share increasingly its pride o f place with Persian for about
eight centuries.
Persian too was Indo-Âryan in origin and a distant cousin o f Sanskrit; it
married into a Semitic fam ily whose script it had adopted, along with the
Islamic faith. This rich, graceful, and melodious language brought with it the
refreshing breath o f SQfic thought, which served as a stimulus to the resur
gence o f religious consciousness in medieval India, widening the intellectual
horizon o f Indian poets and thinkers who felt its affinity to the spiritual in sigh t.
o f the Upanishads. Its influence on Indian thought was both healthy and
liberative, a fact which is am ply borne out by a considerable body o f Indian
literature, from K a b lr to R âm M ohan R oy. It also brought with it a tradition
o f secular poetry, both narrative and lyric, which was a much-needed relief
from the m onotony o f the prevailing modes o f piety.
A ll the modern languages o f India have had substantial literatures o f their
own, ranging over a period o f 500 to 1,000 years, and in the case o f three
Dravidian languages, Tam il, K annada and Telugu, even longer. Tam il, in
particular, has a literary history older than any o f the European languages save
classical G reek and Latin. Indeed, it may well claim a classic age o f its own.
Its earliest extant grammar, Tolkâppiyam, is placed by conservative estimate
in the fifth century a . d . It is also recognized, even by the most conservative,
that the extant Sangam poetry, later collected in anthologies know n as the
304 M edieval Indian Literature
Eltutogai, was written in the second and third centuries a . d ., if not earlier; the
famous Kitral, known as the Veda o f the Tamils, in the sixth century; and the
kâvyas or epics, Manimegalai and Silâppadigâram, in the ninth century' a . d .1
This literature is more secular than religious, a fact o f alm ost unique signi
ficance in early Indian writing. However, from the sixth century onwards the
religious consciousness began to gather strength and momentum, bursting in
a remarkable flowering o f bhakti or devotional poetry o f the Saiva and
Vaishnava saints, known respectively as the Nâyanârs and the Àlvârs, and
culminating in the superb classic, the Râmàyana o f Kam ban, in the ninth
century.
O f the three remaining Dravidian languages, Kannada and Telugu have a
fairly old and well-established literary tradition, that o f K annada being some
what older than that o f Telugu, its earliest extant classic, Kavirâjamârga,
belonging to the ninth century. This is a treatise on poetics and refers to
several earlier works, which indicates that the language had attained its dis
tinctive literary form some centuries before, an assumption well corroborated
by literary records in inscriptions o f the fifth and sixth centuries. The early
literatures in both these languages, as well as in Tam il, owe a good deal to
Jaina inspiration, Kannada being the most indebted. Tam il, though it could
not altogether avoid Sanskrit influence, has maintained a m ore o r less in
dependent literary tradition; Kannada and Telugu, along w ith M alayàlam ,
are permeated with this Sanskrit heritage and have taken freely from its
vocabulary.
While the early literature in north Indian languages was alm ost entirely in
verse, the Dravidian languages have always had a considerable body o f prose-
writing, particularly in the genre known as champü, a mixed form o f verse and
prose, also fam iliar in Sanskrit. This form attained great distinction in
K annada during the period between the tenth and twelfth centuries in the
hands o f three remarkable poets, Pampa, Ponna, and Ranna, known as the
Three Gems o f early K annada literature. The Telugu poets, N annaya o f the
eleventh century and Tikkanna o f the thirteenth, also employed this form in
their famous renderings o f the Mahâbhârala. In the middle o f the twelfth
century a popular religious movement, known as Virasatoisnt, swept over
K àrn âtaka (the Kannada-speaking area) and later over Andhra. The founder
o f the movement, Basava, and his followers embodied their teachings in a
simple unadorned prose and their works, known as vaclianas, are a landmark
in medieval K annada literature.
T w o other historical phenomena which have also left a powerful impact on
K ann ad a and Telugu literatures were the rise and consolidation in the four
teenth century o f the Vijayanagara Empire, which served as a bulw ark against
further Muslim encroachment on the south for more than two centuries, and
the spread o f Vaishnava devotional movements all over India in the fifteenth
and sixteenth centuries. Both o f them served incidentally as powerful factors
in the revival o f the Hindu Sanskrit tradition. The Vijayanagara Empire
achieved its highest glory in the sixteenth century under Krishnadeva R aya,
1 N o attempt is made to harmonize the dates given here with those in Chapter IV. The
wide discrepancy shows how uncertain is the chronology o f many aspects of ancient Indian
history and culture. There are good arguments on both sides. (Ed.'J
M edieval Indian Literature 305
one o f the greatest rulers in Indian history and him self u poet in both Telugu
and Sanskrit. Several remarkable poets flourished under his patronage, o f
whom the best known is Peddana. W hile this Sanskrit-inspired profusion o f
verse was mainly in narrative form , known as kâvya or prabandha, the.inipact
o f Yaishnavism resulted in a rich crop o f devotional songs in K annada com
posed by mendicant singers who called themselves Dâsas (Slaves o f G od), o f
whom Purandaradâsa is the most famous.
, The destruction o f the Vijayanagara Empire by the Muslim rulers o f the
Deccan in the latter h a lf o f the sixteenth century had its inevitable crippling
consequences, and although miscellaneous literature continued to be pro
duced it became increasingly ornate and artificial, tending not infrequently to
eroticism. There were, however, two notable exceptions in Telugu, the didactic
verses o f Vemana in the seventeenth century or earlier, and the musical com-
•positions o f Tyâgarâja in the eighteenth, which are justly admired all over
south India. But in the maiu, literature had lost its creative individuality and,
bereft of intellectual stimulus, was becoming a preserve o f pedantic learning
or a vehicle o f moral instruction, or was allying itself with song and dance to
provide popular entertainment, as exemplified in the development o f Yaksha-
gàna in Kannada.
The most remarkable development o f this particular form o f literary com
position, .which aims at dramatic representation o f Purànic episodes with the
help o f song, dance, and mime, was, however, achieved in the Kathâkalî
literature o f M alayâlam , particularly in the work o f Kunchan N am biar, also
o f the eighteenth century. M alayâlam is the youngest o f Dravidian languages
and, although some songs and ballads o f an earlier age have survived in oral
tradition and some written texts are also available o f the fourteenth and
fifteenth centuries, the language established its full identity and distinctive
quality only in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, mainly through trans
lations o f the Sanskrit epics by the gifted poet Ezhuttachan. Despite its
Dravidian origin, the literary development o f Malayâlam has been m ainly
under Sanskrit influence, which is not surprising i f one recalls that Sankarâ-
chàrya, the great Hindu philosopher o f the ninth century, was a brâhman from
Keralà. A modifying factor worth noting is that there are m ore Christians in
this part o f India than in any other, many o f whom owe allegiance to the
Syrian Church, which according to tradition came to this region in the
first century a . d ., Jong before Christianity was accepted in m ost parts o f
Europe.
A s regards the languages o f north India derived from the spoken dialects
o f M iddle Indo-Aryan (o f which the cultivated literary form was Sanskrit),
their separate identities were not perhaps established till after the eleventh
century, fo r their earliest extant literary classics are not older than the twelfth
and thirteenth centuries. T h e fact that the collection o f mystic songs o f the
tenth and eleventh centuries known as Charyâpadas (discovered in 1916 by the
Bengàli scholar Haraprasàd Shâstrï in the Nepal D arbàr Library) is claimed
by several o f these languages as their oldest literary document is ample evidence
that their identities had not yet distinctly emerged. These songs hide beneath
their surface meanings esoteric doctrines, the legacy o f a decadent M ahâyâna
Buddhism with Tantric and N âlh-cult affiliations, which seem to have been
3o6 M edieval Indian Literature
popular religious lore all over north India. This lore is still embedded in the
Hindu consciousness and has had significant literary expression in many
languages, for example in the medieval narrative poetry o f Bengal known as
mangala, celebrating the worship o f D harm a, Manasâ, or ChandT, all non-
Y ed ic divinities.
A m on g these modern Indo-Aryan languages, Hindi, with its rich and mis
cellaneous heritage o f literary achievement in a number o f widely spread
dialects, m ay well claim the distinction o f possessing one o f the earliest literary
records and also the earliest well-established tradition o f secular writing, in the
Râjasthànî classic Prithvïrâja Rasait (twelfth century) by Chand Bardai, the
court minstrel o f Prithvïrâja, the last Hindu king o f Delhi whose exploits it
narrates. Strangely enough, one o f the pioneer experimenters in Hindi is the
M uslim poet A m ir Khusrau, the remarkably versatile genius o f the thirteenth
to the fourteenth century. M arathi has given to north Indian languages their
first great religious poet and thinker in Jnânesvara whose commentary on the
Bhagaoad Gita, written in the thirteenth century, still holds an unrivalled place
as a literary classic. He firmly established the tradition o f M arathi literature
in which bhakti, devotion, and jndn, philosophy and'scholarship, are admir
ably blended.
The term Hindi is used loosely to denote a number o f Middle Indo-Aryan
dialects which had evolved, over a period of about five centuries, distinct
literary forms o f their own and were know n by their separate names. There
was (and still is) the Braj-bhâshâ, the vehicle par excellence o f medieval
Vaishnava literature and o f classical Hindustani music, the language o f Sürdâs
and Bihàrl; the AvadhI which has given to ‘ H indi’ literature its greatest poet
Tulsïdâs, whose Râmâyana is sung with devotion even today almost all over
the Hindi-speaking region; Rajasthani, in which is recorded the earliest
secular literature o f north India in the form o f heroic ballads, and in which
M ira B ài wrote her exquisite songs which are today claimed by .both Hindi and
Gujarati as part o f their literary heritage; and Bhojpurl, M agahl, and M aithili
o f modern Bihâr. Bhojpuri was the mother tongue o f the great poet K abir o f
the fifteenth century, although he wrote his poems in a mixed dialect and
evolved a rich and vigorous vocabulary o f his own which did not disdain
Perso-Arabic words. M aithili was one o f the richest medieval tongues, which
in the hands o f Vidyâpati attained such grace and power in the fifteenth
century that its influence was felt as much in Bengal and Assam as in the
western zone and penetrated even into N epal. Even today the people speaking
it, who number several million, claim the status o f a separate m ajor language
for M aithili.
W hat is today known as Hindi has behind it this vast and varied heritage,
though by itself and in its present standard literary form it is o f comparatively
recent origin, not earlier than the first decade o f the nineteenth century. It is
built on the basic structure o f a wèstern Indo-Aryan dialect spoken in Delhi
and its neighbourhood known as K har! B oll (an epithet originally used in a
derogatory sense, meaning rough, crude, or raw speech). Begun as a tentative
experiment to cope with the demands o f modern education and knowledge,
Hindi has absorbed during the last 150 years the heritage o f its illustrious
predecessors and, drawing its capital from the vast reserves o f Sanskrit, has
M edieval Indian Literature 307
established itself as the standard literary medium o f the largest zone in
northern India. This position has been recognized in the Constitution o fln d ia ,
which has conferred on it the status o f the official language o f the Indian
Union, without prejudice to the remaining fourteen languages scheduled
therein, ail o f which are recognized as national languages o f India.
'.A m o n g them Urdu is in a class by itself. Linguistically it is Indo-Âryan,
bom in India and built, like Hindi, on the same basic structure o f K h arì B oll.
But having affiliated itself to the Persian literary tradition and adopted the
Perso-Arabic script, it has evolved an individuality o f its own, with the result
that Hindi and Urdu in their highly standardized forms seem two different
languages, scions o f the same stock turned rivals by m arrying into different
cultural clans. '
The word Urdu is o f Turkish origin, and is a cousin o f the English word
horde. The original Turkish word ordit meant an arm y or camp. Ever since
the eleventh century, when the Muslims invaded India from the north-west,
the rulers, whether Afghans, Turks, or M ughals, used Persian as the language
o f the Imperial Court. Their army, belonging to different races, also spoke the
same language, although the soldiers in course o f time picked up rudiments
oT the local dialects so as to communicate with the com m on people, mainly
Hindus or M uslim converts. The crude, improvised speech thus born o f the
confluence o f Persian and a western Hindi dialect cam e to be known as U rdu.
Its first standardized literary form, know n as D akhnl, was developed in the
fifteenth century in central and south India, where M uslim adventurers had
carved out powerful kingdoms for themselves. Its early writers were naturally
Muslim poets who adopted for their purpose the Perso-Arabic script to which
they were used and who increasingly loaded their language w ith a vocabulary
and other literary paraphernalia, including prosody, borrow ed from Persian
and to a lesser extent from Arabic.
This literary medium travelled b ack to the north, where, under the patron
age o f the M ughals and later o f the Lucknow Court and society, it developed
a highly polished, sophisticated, and urbane form which has made it different
from every other Indian language and given it an elegance and a vigour all its
own. The patronage o f the court and aristocracy had-at one time lent it such
prestige that it was freely adopted by a large number o f educated H indu
families o f north India, in whose hands, however, the language tended to lose
its lop-sidedness and to maintain a fairer proportion o f Sanskrit and Persian
vocabulary. Such is, for instance, the language o f families like the Nehrüs
and the Saprüs. It is not without significance that the best-known o f m odem
Hindi writers, Premchand, wrote his first stories and novels in UrdQ and later
turned them into Hindi.
It was, however, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries that the modern
Indo-Âryan languages had their richest literary flowering. Its source o f in
spiration was twofold, a revival o f interest in the Sanskrit heritage, particularly
as embodied in the great epics, and the upsurge o f Vaishnava bhakti, a w ide
spread cult o f devotion to a personal G o d identified with Râm a, the hero o f
the RSmSyana, or Krishna, the hero o f the Mahâbhârata and the Bhâgavata
Parana; less important, but still significant, were the grow th o f cults o f de
votion to Siva and his consort K a li or Chandl.
M edieval Indian Literature
This lyrical overflow o f religious adoration had had an earlier literary bur
geoning in Tam il, in the-poetry o f the Saiva and Vaisbnava saints o f the sixth
century onwards, referred to earlier. Its philosophy as expounded by the Tamil
sage Ràm ànujàchârya was carried to north India in the fourteenth century by
R âm ânanda, who was traditionally the teacher o f the famous poet Kablr.
M adhvâchârya froru K àrnâtaka carried bhakti to Bengal where its most
ecstatic exponent was the Bengâlï saint Chaitanya, whose teachings spread
from Orissa in the east to V rindâvan (near M athura, a district specially con
nected with the K rishna myth) in the west, and travelling south had a marked
influence on the development o f Vaishnava poetry in K annada— a significant
example o f the cultural interaction o f Dravidian and Indo-Âryan influences.
A lm ost all Indian languages, Dravidian or Indo-Âryan, count am ong their
early classics translations or free renderings o f the epics, the m ost famous o f
them being Tulsidas’s Râm-charit-mânas in A vadhl-H indi (sixteenth century)
and K am b an ’s Ràmâyana in Tam il (ninth century). T hey are creative adapta
tions rather than translations, and freely omit or m odify incidents, scenes, and
settings o f the original narrative and in some cases introduce new ones. The
authors have coloured the texture o f their poetry with regional flavour and
suffused it with their own personal devotional attitude, turning the manly
hero o f the epic into G od Incarnate. T he loss in classic dignity is, however,
partially compensated by added lyrical fervour. _
A lo n g with translations or free adaptations o f the epics, there was a con
siderable output o f devotional song and verse by saint-poets„whose number is
legion. A few names might illustrate how widespread this upsurge was and
how the same impulse worked in different languages: Sankaradeva in Assam
ese, Chandïdâs in Bengali, Vidyâpati in M aithilî, N arasï M ehtâ in Gujaràtl,
M ira B ài in Rajasthani, K a b ir in a mixed form o f Bhojpuri and Urdu,
Sûrdàs in Braj-bhâshâ, N âm dev and Ekoàth in M arathi, Saralàdàs in Oriyâ,
G uru N ân ak in Panjabi. Exceptional am ong bhakta bymnodists, the K ash
miri poetess L ai D ed was a Saivite mystic and belonged to the fourteenth
century. T h e output o f their successors in the sixteenth and seventeenth
centuries was no less impressive. Its im pact on Indian thought has been so
profound that its echo can be heard even in the poetry o f the twentieth century.
Besides this overflow o f devotional exuberance, often wearisomely repeti
tive and only occasionally relieved by heroic ballad and romance, there was in
most Indian languages a not inconsiderable output in other literary forms:
metaphysical speculation, maxims on life, in polished and condensed verse,
commentaries on aesthetics, rhetoric, and grammar, exposition o f Purànic
legends with not a little pseudo-scientific rigmarole, and biographical liter
ature which was mainly hagiographical and full o f an astounding naïveté.
There was also a body o f sophisticated verse analysing possibilities o f erotic
rapture with obvious, unashamed, and even devout delight. The famous Sat
Sài o f the seventeenth-century' Hindi poet Bihàrîlàl embodies this odd Sans
krit tradition with much ingenuity and charm.
A lthough prose was not unknown to Sanskrit and to some Dravidian
languages, its scope and range were limited. So far as the north Indian lan
guages are concerned, what specimens there are in the Assam ese Buranjis
(court chronicles) and in the later historical records in M arathi and Urdu
M edieval Indian Literature 309
have survived as literary curiosities rather than as milestones in literary de
velopment. Poetry was the vehicle par excellence o f literary expression, and
rhyme, in the case o f thodern Indo-Âryan languages, its main constituent. N or
was this surprising, considering that literature itself was subservient to reli
gious fervour and was almost entirely dependent on oral delivery for its
propagation.
T h e Muslim contribution to medieval Indian literature was not inconsider
able. Apart from the fact that the development o f Urdu language and liter
ature is due mainly to Muslims, several m odem Indian languages have been
enriched by the contribution o f individual Muslim writers. A lthough their in
spiration was mainly derived from a nostalgia for the faded glory o f A rabia
and Iran, they also made imaginative use o f purely Indian themes, e.g. the
heroic tale o f the Rajput Queen PadminI o f C hitor which inspired M alik
Muhammad Jâyasï's Padmâvat, an allegorical narrative in A vad hï written in
the sixteenth century, as well as the Bengali poet A lâ o l’s poem o f the same
name a century later. T o this may be added the general impact o f M uslim
thought, particularly in its nonconformist Sufi tradition, and the gradual in
filtration o f Perso-Arabic vocabulary and literary lore. This influence was so
profound in the case o f Kashm iri, Panjabi, and Sindhi as to be deemed pre
dominant. The poems o f Hàbâ Khatün in Kashm iri, Bulley Shâh, and Wàris
Shâh in Panjabi and Shâh L a tîf in Sindhi are landmarks in these literatures.
These two Panjabi poets o f the eighteenth century and their Sindhi contem
porary wove their exquisite lyrics round popular romantic lore, the tragic love
tales o fH ir and Ranjhà, Sassi and Punnü, and Sohnî-M ahiwâl. A curious fact
o f Kashm iri literature is that its three greatest poets were women, Lai D ed o f
the fourteenth century, Hâbâ K hàtün, o f the sixteenth, and Arnim al o f the
eighteenth.
Such then, at a glance, was the general picture o f Indian literature on the
eve o f its next revolutionary' phase in the beginning o f the nineteenth century.
Linguistically, its two main sources were Dravidian and Indo-Âryan; cultur
a lly , it derived from the religious and literary tradition as embodied in Sans
krit, supplemented and modified by Buddhist and Jaina influences as well as
by local indigenous lore. T h e most vital impulse that had conditioned the
character o f Indian literature was religious. This is true o f the entire course o f
its develppment, Vedic, Buddhist, Jaina, classical, Dravidian and later Indo-
Âryan, although classical Sanskrit and early Tam il literatures show ample
evidence o f full-blooded and secular vigour. The most passionate as well as
:the m ost characteristic expression o f this religious impulse was in devotional
poetry’, both narrative and lyric, inspired by one or the other form o f V aish
navism or Saivism. This impulse, clothed in Süfistic garb and adorned with
.Persian finery, is also evident in the literary contribution o f the Muslims,
whether in Urdu or in other Indian languages.
C H A P T E R X X II
T o m ost people the title o f this chapter would seem to be above reproach and
to describe its contents accurately. Indeed, it would be difficult to find any
other precise and simple description to cover the various styles o f buildings
produced in the vast area o f India under the Muslim dominion that lasted
from the year x 193 up to the eighteenth century. E. B. Havel!, an enthusiastic
and pugnacious champion o f the Hindu genius, strongly objected to the term
‘ Indo-Saracenic’ as ‘ an unscientific classification based on the fundamental
error which vitiates the w orks o f most European histories of Indian civiliza
tio n ’ .1 H e was thinking primarily o f James Fergusson’s great book, the first
really scholarly survey o f the subject, but other and later historians came under
his lash by adopting the same terminology. W e may abandon the word
‘ Saracenic’ nowadays, because it was never more than a picturesque'nick
name and'has been discarded for many years by the learned, but it seems
ridiculous to suggest that the great influence and power o f jsla m , implied in
the words ‘ M uslim ’ or ‘ M uham m adan’, can be neglected in considering the
long series o f mosques, palaces, and other buildings erected during more than
five centuries. On the other hand, Muslim architecture in India does differ
radically from its works in other countries. As M , Saladin has well said:
Ii'Inde est si éloignée du centre géographique de l’Islam que l’architecture musul
mane y a subi l’influence de l’art florissant qui y était implanté depuis des siècles. Le
.continent indien, peuplé de races très diverses, dont, les antagonismes assurèrent la
servitude, constitue cependant un monde particulier. Une civilisation religieuse s’est
étendue sur les races ennemies et a donné à l’art indou une vie puissante et originale.1
It was in 712 that the Muslim hosts first entered India and established
themselves in Sind, but the colony there soon became detached from the
Caliphate, eventually expired, and left no architectural remains o f importance.
In the tenth century, about 962, a form er Turkish slave named. Alptigin en
tered Afghanistan from Turkïstàn and established a small independent princi
pality at Ghazni. His successor Sabuktigln, another ex-slave, became Am ir of
G hazni in 977, raided the Panjâb ten years later, and founded a dynasty. His
son M ahm ud, who sufcceeded him in 997, assumed the title o f Sultan and soon
began to make his power felt beyond the Indus, capturing Kanauj, the capita!
city o f northern India/ in 1019. But it was only in G hazni itself that he became
famous as a builder, and the sack o f that city by a rival chieftain in c. 1150 de
stroyed all the buildiiigs except M ahm ud’s tom b and two others.
G h azni lies in the modern Afghanistan, and therefore does, not strictly
belong to our subject. But it must be recorded here that, in the days o f its
1 E. B. Havell, Indian Architecture, 2nd edn., London, 1927, p. 121.
1 H. Saladin, Manuel d ’art musulman, Paris, 1907, Vol..l,- p. 545.
M uslim A rchitecture in India BU
glory, it became a city o f some im portance. A contem porary chronicler,
Firishta, w rote that ‘ the capital was in a short time ornamented witji mosques,
porches, fountains,'àqueducts, reservoirs, and cisterns, beyond a n yb ity in the
Éast.’ 3 Fergusson says that: \
Even the tomb o f the great Mahmüd is unknown to us except by name,' [but that its
gates, removed to India long ago,] are o f Deodar pine, and the carved ornaments on
them are so similar to those found at Cairo, on the mosque o f Ibn Tulun and other
buildings of that age, as not only to prove that they are o f the same.date, but also to
show how similar were the works of decoration at these two extremities of the
Muslim empire at the time of their execution. . . . At the same time there is nothing
. Hindu . . . about them.'*
IWhen Robert Byron visited this tomb he described it as follow s:
The tomb resembles an inverted cradle o f white marble, and bears a beautiful Kufic
inscription whose high spots have grown translucent beneath the devotions of nine
centuries. It was covered, when I entered, with a black pall, on which fresh rose-
pëtals had been strewn, to show that the memory o f the first great patron o f Persian
Islamic art is still revered among the people he once ruled.5
flyron does not mention the Jâmi’ M asjid (‘ Friday m osque’), w hich Fergus-
son expected to provide interesting information when it cam e to be examined,
but he saw the tw o remarkable towers described and illustrated by Fergusson.
Apparently only the lofty six-sided bases now remain, the tapered cylindrical
superstructure having vanished. Byron speaks o f them as ‘ m inarets’, but
Fergusson says that they were pillars o f victory, adding that ‘ neither o f them
f a s ever attached to a m osque’ . Be this as it may, the form o f these towers or
minarets became important in the later history o f M uslim architecture in
India.
2 ';A fter M ahm ud’s death in 1030 the power o f G h azni began to decline, and
jj^was occupied in 1173 by the rival prince o f G hür. Tw enty years later,
Mii.hammad, the Ghürï ruler o f Ghazni, with his generals Q utbu’d-Din A ib ak
and. M uham mad B ak h tiyà r,'conquered Hindustan and established the new
MUSHm capital at Delhi. This date, 1193, marks thé real beginning o f M uslim
afchitecture in India itself. Except for the scattered and ruined fragments at
Ghazni in Afghanistan, no earlier buildings o f any note survive which are due
î& M uslim influence or bear its characteristic features.
HjBefore' describing the early architecture ó f D elhi and A jm er it is necessary
ra indicate briefly the point o f development to which M uslim -building had
attained in 1193 in Persia and the neighbouring coiintries whence its influence
must have reached India, and then to study the nature o f the existing indi
genous architecture with which it became fused and on which, in spite o f all
statements to the contrary, it eventually impressed the unm istakable features
iofislam ic tradition.
fejThe congregational m osque or ‘ Friday M o sq u e’ ,(Jâmi’ M asjid) had long
attained its norm al and alm ost standardized form ,'consisting o f a large open
rectangular court (sahn in Arabic) surrounded b y arcades or colonnades
-
p ’ Quoted in Fergusson’s History o f Indian and Eastern Architecture, revised edn., London,
È19Ì0, V ol. 2, p. 191. < Ibid., p. 193. ,
1 In The Times for 28 D ec. 1934, article entitled ‘ M iddle Eastern Journey’ .
312 M uslim Architecture in India
Uwânat in Arabic) on all four sides. The lïwân nearest to Mecca was usually
made much deeper than the others and formed the sanctuary'. In the centre of
the back wall o f the sanctuary, and on its inner side, stood the mihrâb, a niche
with a pointed head, indicating the proper direction (qiblah) for prayer, i.e. the
direction o f M ecca. The call to worship {aditati) was chanted by a muezzin
(imu’adhdhin) from a gallery near the top o f a minaret (ma’ dltana), a tail slender
tower. W ithin the mosque the chief ritual furniture consisted o f a pulpit
{mimbar) and facilities for ceremonial ablution. A large mosque might have
several minarets, their form being usually cylindrical or polygonal in Persia,
though the first known example, at Qayrawân near Tunis (eighth century), is a
massive square tower, slightly tapered. Arches were freely used in all parts o f
the mosque, their form being generally 'P ersian ’ (i.e. somewhat depressed and
struck from four centres like our ’ T u d or’ arch), or less frequently o f ogee type.
Cusping was occasionally used. Windows were often filled w ith plaster or
stone lattices or claire-voies to break the force o f the sun, but glazing does not
appear to have been introduced before the thirteenth century. Enamelled tiles
were certainly employed, also bands o f decorative lettering and geometrical
surface patterns (’ arabesques’) in profusion, while the famous ‘ stalactite’
ornament, the hallmark o f Muslim architecture in all countries; had made its
aopearancc in the mosque o f A l Aqm ar at Cairo in 1 125. Lastly, the masonry
or brick dome had come into general use for tombs and tomb-mosques,
though in ordinary congregational mosques it was normally o f small size and
placed over the space in front o f the mihrâbfi
Th e buildings which the Muslim conquerors found in India in 1193 were
numerous and decidedly florid in character. Indeed, it is the profuseness o f the
decoration in early Hindu temples that tends to obscure their structural
features and thus makes them difficult for a European Critic to analyse dis
passionately. H avell writes that ‘ it may seem to the Western eye, trained in tbe
form ula o f the classical schoolmaster, that the Muhammadan prescription is
m ore pleasing, just because it is more correct according to the canons called
classical’ ,7 but the difference seems to be more fundamental than that. How
ever, it should be possible in this brief survey to avoid unnecessary and futile
com parisons between varying styles o f building, concentrating rather on
matters o f ascertained fact in the story o f architectural development.
T h e story' o f architecture in India prior to the Muslim invasion in 1 193 lias
already been extended backwards by 3,000 years or more since the discoveries
m ade at B arappâ and M ohenjo-dâro. Until then the prevailing belief was that
the earliest surviving Indian buildings were constructed mainly o f timber, but
w ith sun-dried brick for foundations and plinths. In the prosperous reign o f
A so k a (c. 272-232 B.C.) stone came into use, but the forms o f timber members
were often reproduced in stone. A^oka, whose dominions included the whole
o f m odern India except its southern extremity and part o f Assam , became a
devotee o f Buddhism. Hence the monuments surviving from his day consist
chiefly o f great stone pillars inscribed with his religious edicts, and stupas, i.e.
structures or shrines enclosing relics o f Buddhist saints, or m arking places
* F o r a concise summary o f the characteristics o f Muslim architecture in general, see my
chapter in The Legacy o f Islam, Oxford, 1931, pp. 155-79.
7 E. B. Havell, op. cit., p. 5t.
M uslim Architecture in India 313
where Buddha lived or worked; a few artificial caves with highly polished in
teriors, used as hermitages for À jïvika monks, also go back to Iris day. In
these buildings, which were scattered all over A éok a’s vast empire, there are
m any indications o f foreign influence, even at this early date.
Thus the Aéoka pillars have capitals somewhat resembling the type used at
Persepolis 700 years before, decorated with Persian mouldings, and crowned
with lions or other beasts. Where these lions were disposed in pairs or in fours
(as on the fine capital from the Sàrnàth pillar, which w as 50 feet high from the
ground), we find the prototype o f the famous ‘ bracket-capital’ which later
played so important a structural part in Hindu architecture and carne to be
freely used in Muslim mosques. T he stupas are extremely interesting m onu
ments, but do not appear to have influenced mosque-building to any marked
extent.
The Buddhist monasteries (vihâras), o f which the earliest surviving ex
amples date from a century or two after Aéoka, were often placed near the
shrines (chaityas). Some o f them were hewn out o f the solid rock, others were
free-standing structures; some had columns, others were astylar. The chaitya
interior as a whole suggests a Christian basilica, and Fergusson pointed out
that the dimensions o f the temple at K ârlî are almost identical with those o f
the choir at N orwich Cathedral. Light was admitted through a huge sun-
window in the rock facade so that it fell upon the stupa or chaitya, the focal
point o f worship. The sun-window almost invariably assumed the form o f a
horseshoe, and Havell explained its sym bolic purpose in some detail.8 He took
great pains to prove that this horseshoe-arch, which eventually became a
characteristic feature o f Muslim architecture in certain countries, was in
vented in India a thousand years or so before the first mosque was erected. It
is tru<$ that this horseshoe window resembles some types o f arch used in
Islamic and Western architecture but the fact remains that, except for an early
example at Kausâm bi and a few small examples in a later Buddhist monastery
in Orissa, which seem to have had no successors, no true arches or domes
dating from before the M uslim conquest have been found in India. Thus
claims such as H avell’s will not stand critical exam ination, and the direct
debt o f Indian Muslim architecture to ancient Indian art appears to be limited
to the use o f bracket-capitals (a Persian heritage) and certain arch-forms, the
latter being disputable. Other details borrowed front Persia, Greece, and per
haps Rome (e.g. the quasi-Doric capitals at Elephanta and the fluted pillars
o f the temple at M ârtând in Kashm ir and elsewhere) passed out o f use long
before the Muslim invasion and so had no effect on M uham m adan archi
tecture.
But it must not be inferred that nothing o f importance was transmitted
indirectly, and after considerable modification, from the earlier period to the
later. Certain features developed during the ensuing centuries before 1193,
and passed almost imperceptibly into the design o f mosques after that date.
M eanwhile Indian craftsmen were acquiring great skill in all decorative de
tails. M oreover, it is quite fallacious to regard the rock-hewn chaitya-cave
type as archaic or barbaric. A s Havell says, *in India it represents a refinement
o f luxury for the users, an exceptional trial o f skill for the craftsmen, and a
special act o f devotion and consecration on the part o f the individual or the
community for whom the w ork is perform ed’ ;9 and again, that ‘ the sculptur
esque or architectonic quality which is generally lacking in pure A rab buildings,
belongs pre-eminently to Hindu architectural design: the Hindu builder was a
sculptor as well as a mason, having acquired his skill at Elephanta, Ellora, and
Ajantâ in many generations from dealing with great masses o f living rock ’ .10
This last claim must be borne in mind as we come to consider the fully de
veloped Muslim architecture o f India, later in this chapter.
D uring the period between 650 and 1200 India was a mass o f rival states.
Brâhmanical Hinduism replaced Buddhism as the religion o f the majority of
the inhabitants, but Jainism— which was as old as Buddhism in its origin—
continued to flourish abreast o f it, and was responsible for the erection o f
many im portant temples. The typical Hindu temple o f this period consists
o f two elements: a shrine-cell crowned by a curvilinear tower or steeple
(sikhara) and an entrance porch or veranda. Havell considered that this type
was directly derived from the primitive village shrine o f a thousand years
earlier, with its veranda giving shelter to 'th e two guardians o f the shrine,
human or divine’.11
In south India, instead o f the curved sikhara, we find a more primitive
structure, a vimâna or pyramidal tower w ith stepped sides^ not unlike the
Babylonian ziggurat. Otherwise, variations from the standard plan take the
form o f the addition o f pillared halls (mandapam) and enclosures (prâkâra)
round the original shrine as a nucleus, w ith lofty gateways (gopurams) at the
various entrances. It is only in the pillared halls that any noteworthy struc
tural experiments are to be seen, and there one sometimes sees primitive stone
domes on an octagonal arrangement o f pillars, a system which found its way
into Muslim architecture.
I f one can so far forget the overgrowth o f ornament and the complexity o f
subdivision as to penetrate to the underlying structural forms and elements, it
appears that the Hindu temples prior to 1193 were mainly o f trabeated stone
construction, based in large part on timber prototypes. Great stone lintels,
beams, and purlins are freely used, and arches are alm ost if not entirely un
known, the tops o f window openings and doorways being flat. Bracket-
capitals are employed to reduce the span o f openings. Pyram idal roofs are
formed by successive projections o f masonry courses, and domes o f primitive
type are constructed in the same w ay on an octagonal base o f stone lintels,
themselves supported on stone columns in late examples (after the tenth
century). The top or cap o f such a structure, the âmaiaka, sometimes appears
to be carried on the slightly curvilinear piers or ribs form ing the skeleton of
the iikhara, where the walls o f the sikhara are not entirely solid, and in this
system Havell finds the origin o f the later ribbed dome. Colum ns were seldom
used in the architecture o f Hindu temples in north India, but are frequently
found in buildings erected further south. There is no doubt that the Muslims
borrowed many o f these structural features, notably lintels and bracket-
capitals, from Hindu tradition; and it is equally certain that the domes they
built in India showed similar influence. But their architecture was not based
* Ibid., p. 69. 10 Ibid., Indian Architecture, p..23. 11 Ibid., p. 37.
M uslim Architecture in India 3*5
entirely on Hindu models, as extremists would have us believe. T he largest
group o f early Hindu temples in north India is to be found in Orissa, which
escaped invasion by the M uslim s until 1510.
The chief Jain temples were erected between c. iooo and c. 1300, and are
distinguished by the large number o f cells provided for im ages, as m any as 236
being found in one building, but architecturally they do not differ in character
very much from Hindu temples. They are usually picturesquely situated, often
on hill-tops. Some o f them are rock-cut, as at Ellorà and in O rissa; others are
free-standing structures, such as the temples a t Lakkandl in D harw ar, at
Palitànà and Girnàr in G ujarat, at Somnâth south o f Girnâr, and at Vindhya-
giri and Chandragiri in M ysore. But the most famous examples are at M ount
 bü, about 400 miles from Bom bay on the line to D elhi. Here the older
tem ple,built in i0 3 i,fo rm so n e o f the finest architectural groups o f the period.
The shrine itself, with its pyramidal ro o f and porch, is surrounded by a'closed
courtyard 128 feet by 75 feet, lined with 52 cells.
When the M uslims under M uham m ad o f G hür invaded India in 119 1, th eyat
first encountered defeat from the Hindu râjâ who ruled over D elhi and Ajm er.
In the following year, however, they were successful, and in 1193 D elhi,
K anauj, and Vârànasï (Banâras) were captured. T h e surrender o f G w alior
occurred three years later, the conquest o f Upper India being completed in
1-203. M ost o f the Muslim rulers were o f Turkish or A ra b blood, and several
o f the early sultans o f D elhi were Turkish slaves who, like the M am elukes o f
E gypt including the fam ous Saladin himself, rose to the highest positions in
the state from this lowly origin. The general in command o f the arm y which
conquered Delhi in 1193 was one such slave, by name Qutbu’ d-Din A ib a k , a
native o f Turkistan, and it was he who, even before he becam e the first sultan
or king o f D elhi on M uham m ad’s death in 1206, put in hand the building o f
two large ‘ congregational’ or m etropolitan mosques in D elhi and Ajm er. U n
doubtedly this step was intended as a sym bol o f conquest, as an evidence o f
the M uslim s’ belief in the faith o f their fathers, and possibly also as a memorial
Of their triumph over idolatry.
T h e invaders were certainly soldiers, probably m arching light and without
any elaborate system o f administration prepared in advance for the van
quished territories. But those writers who have assumed that no architects
were brought into India from Persia or Turkistan have been rather rash: even
i f there is no record o f such an im portation, it seems conceivable that it m ay
have happened. A t all events the point is unimportant, because it is obvious
that somebody— perhaps Q utbu’d-D in himself-— must have given precise in
structions to craftsmen and labourers for the building o f the two mosques
just mentioned. It may also be assumed that these workm en were m ainly if
not entirely H indus: that fact is proved by the clumsy w ay in which they dealt
tvith the few non-Hindu items o f construction required by the conquerors.
M oreover, this was the practice in all the countries subdued by the Arabs in
the early days o f Islam. The plan o f the mosque, utilitarian as well as sym
bolical in its nature, was prescribed by tradition and was insisted upon by the
Muslim governor or ruler; the materials employed, and the constructional
methods used to achieve the desired effects, were largely left to be determined
by the local circumstances and the particular skill o f the native craftsmen. A s
3 16 M uslim A rchitecture in India
we have seen, Hindu temple architecture had reached a high level; and sculp
ture had become almost too easy, as it was perhaps too common.
The first mosque at D elhi, dedicated to the Quwwat-ul-Islâm (‘ M ight o f
Islam '), is adm irably situated on a slight eminence and was completed in I19S.
It originally measured externally about 210 feet from east to west (that is,
from front to back) and 150 feet from north to south, the measurements in
side the colonnade being 142 by 108 feet. (In India, the mifiriib is always at the
west end.) It was erected on the site o f a Hindu temple, but an A ra b ic in
scription on the east wall states that the materials o f twenty-seven ‘ idolat
ro u s’ temples were used in its construction. T he sanctuary at the west (Mecca)
end is now in ruins, only twenty-two o f its numerous columns remaining, but
the fine stone arcade or screen forming its frontage to the courtyard survives
to show the m agnificence'of the original design, with a central arch o f slightly
ogee shape, 22 feet wide and 53 feet high. T h e low colonnaded sanctuary be
hind it, like the other colonnades surrounding the courtyard, appears to have
survived from the earlier temple, so that Q utbu’d -D in’s w ork was mainly
confined to the erection o f this huge arcaded sanctuary-façade. T h e Hindu
craftsmen employed were unaccustomed to the construction o f arches; hence,
instead o f proper voussoirs, they used projecting courses o f m asonry such as
were fam iliar to them in building sikharas.
A fter Qutbu’d-D in’s death, his son-in-law and successgr Iltutmish pro
ceeded in c. 1225 to extend this arcaded screen to treble its original width
north and south, and also to erect a new east colonnade to the mosque, so that
it now measured some 370 by 280 feet. W ithin the extended courtyard he
built the great Qutb M inar, a detached tower or minaret 238 feet high, which
may possibly have been commenced by Qutbu’d-D in himself. There is some
doubt as to the real purpose o f this remarkable monumènt. A n inscription,
and a reference b y the poet A m ir K husrau,.support the theory that it was a
norm al minaret used by a muezzin; but m any authorities hold that it was a
tower o f victory, perhaps inspired by the ‘ pillars o f victory’ which still stand
on the plain o f G hazni. A detached minaret is not unknown, and there arc
yery' early examples at Sam arra in M esopotam ia (846-52) and at the mosque
o f Ibn TulQn in Cairo (868-969). T he sharply tapered cylindrical form is
found at D am ghân in Persia (twelfth century), and the fluting o f the surface
is a Persian feature (as at R ayy) derived from older M esopotam ian proto
types. The ‘ stalactite’ cornices under the tiers o f galleries round the Qutb
M in ar recall one o f the earliest uses o f that feature on a twelfth-century min
aret at Bostam in Persia. A ll things considered, there is no reason to doubt the
statement that the Q utb M inar was designed by a M uham m adan architect
and built by Hindu craftsm en.11 It is absurd to say that it is ‘ a Saracenic
modification o f the Indian typ e’.13
T he tom b o f Iltutmish, w ho died in 1235, lies near the mosque, and is a
beautiful example o f nearly pure Persian art, though there are certain features
o f its decoration— such as the design o f the shafts and the cusped arches—
that suggest Hindu taste, and much o f the ornament betrays an inexperienced
c. 14 11) is a huge mosque o f this type, all interest being concentrated on the
M ecca liwân, which bas 260 slender pillars supporting fifteen symmetrically
arranged stone domes, built up o f horizontally projecting courses in the Hindu
fashion. The method o f lighting the liwân is ingenious and admirably suited to
clim atic needs. A t Sarkhej, about five miles from the city, is another large
mosque completed in 1451, which is skilfully designed and is devoid o f arches.
T h e smaller mosques o f Ahm adàbâd include those o f M uhàfìz K han, Sidi
Sayyid, and R ani Sipàri: all o f this period and all characterized by Hindu
tradition. The Jâmi' Masjid at D holkâ (e. 1485) is another interesting ex
ample, and the Jâmi' Masjid at Champanir (finished in 1508) is a large mosque
resembling the Ahm adàbâd example in general arrangement but with two
graceful minarets flanking the central doorway o f the liwân, which has eleven
domes in its roof as against fifteen at Ahm adàbâd. This-is one o f the largest
and finest o f Indian mosques; certainly one o f the most Indian. T he Nâgïna
M asjid at Cham panir is a small and beautiful mosque o f the same period. The
most notable o f many fine tombs in Ahm adàbâd a re those.of Sayyid Usmân
(1460), Sayyid M ubarak (1484), and R ànï Sipàri ( i 514); and the tomb o f
Ahm ad Ganj Baksh at Sarhej, begun in 1446. The second o f these has arches,
but for the most part the tombs o f Gujarât have domes carried on an arrange
ment o f columns in the Hindu manner.
With the year 1526, when Bàbur the M ughal king o f Kabul, with the aid o f
700 field-guns, defeated the vast army o f the Sultan o f Delhi on the plain o f
Pânîpat, we enter on the M ughal period o f architecture, which lasted nomin
ally until 1761, but which may more conveniently end for our purpose at the
death o f Aurangzeb in 1707. The Muslim buildings o f these two centuries
form a more distinctive and homogeneous group than the architecture de
scribed hitherto, which varied greatly from province to province, and they are
more fam iliar to foreigners, all o f whom have at least heard o f the Tàj Mahal.
T h e term ‘ M u g h a l’ as applied to architecture has its drawbacks, but the fact
remains that the buildings erected under the M ughal emperors were more de
finitely M uhammadan in character than those which preceded them and need
to be classified as a separate school. The chief monuments were erected by
A k b ar (1556-1605) and Shâh Jàhàn (1628-58); during the reign o f Aurangzeb
(1658-1707) architecture progressively declined.
M ost o f the buildings o f this important period are to be fpund in the north
western part o fln d ia , especially in Delhi, À grâ, Lâhore, Fatehpur-SIkrl, and
A üahàbâd, with an isolated group at Bïjâpur. Babur established his capital at
À grâ, but his stormy reign only lasted fou r years, and only two o f his
numerous buildings remain: the mosques at Pânîpat and at Sambal in Rohil-
khand. His son Hum àyün ruled from 1530 to 1540 and again from 1555 till his
death in 1556, the intervening period being occupied by the reign o f an Afghan
usurper, Slier Shâh. O f buildings erected between 1526 and 1556, the best-
known are in D elhi. They include the JamàlI Masjid (1528-36); the mosque o f
‘Isâ K hàn (1547); and his richly decorated tomb adjoining, with ‘ kiosks’
grouped round the central dome, altogether a bold com bination o f Hindu
and Islam ic elements. Then there is the walled ‘ sixth c ity ’ o f Delhi known as
the Purânà Qila, in which stands the splendid mosque o f Sher Shâh, a clever
blending o f richness and refinement. A t Fathâbâd, in the Hissâr district o f the
Muslim A rchitecture iti Indio 321
Panjâb, is a mosque (c. 1540) o f massive proportions, well designed and de
corated with tiles in Persian fashion. Slier Shâh’s tomb stands on a high plat
form or podium o f masonry in the middle o f a lake at Sasarâm in the Shâhà-
bàd district. Al the corners o f Ibis podium arc little domed kiosks, while two
tiers or still smaller kiosks are grouped round the great octagon beneath the
dome. Tiiis is a picturesque and delightful group, thoroughly Indo-Muslim.
One o f the first monuments erected during A k b ar's reign was the tom b o f
his father Humàyün at Delhi, built in 1565-9 by Humâyün’s widow, who was
afterwards buried there. It is surrounded by a formal garden which still retains
its originai layout, though many o f the trees have vanished, Tiie base o f tbe
tomb consists o f a huge podium o f red sandstone 22 feet high, with arches
ornamented with white marble. From this noble foundation rises the tomb
itself, 156 feet square and 125 feet high to the top o f the dome. But though the
building forms a square on plan, in fact it consists o f a central domed octagon
buttressed by four octagonal towers. T he facing material is red sandstone,
picked out with white marble, and the dome is faced with white marble. In
shape the dome is slightly bulbous, thus introducing into India for the first
time a feature characteristic o f late work in Persia and Turkistân, and in con
struction it is double, another innovation. Its summit is crowned with the
A rab finial, not the Hindu water-pot finial (kalasa), and indeed it is a de
cidedly 'S aracen ic1 design. The exterior o f the building has Persian arches and
severely flat surfaces, relieved only by the brilliant marble inlay.; and the
kiosks on the angle towers are the sole legacy from Hindu tradition. Every
thing here suggests the experienced hand o f a M uslim architect from Persia,
or more probably from Samarqand, where the rulers had developed tomb-
building to a fine art. It is generally considered that this splendid monument
was the prototype o f the T âj M ahal. Other tombs in Delhi o f A kb ar’s reign
were erected in m emory o f Adham Khan and A tgah Khân (1566), two deadly
rivals; and at G w âlior is the large and very' fine tomb o f Muham m ad Ghaus.
It is an Indo-Muslim hybrid, with Hindu kiosks at the angles o f its podium .
A kbar resided in several cities, among them Allahâbâd, Lâhore, where he
held his court from 1585 to 1598, and A gra, where he remained from that date
until he died in 1605. A t  grâ he began building the famous fort in 1566, and
within it he laid out the first part o f the palace, which was continued by his
successors and has since been so much altered that the various stages o f ex
tension are difficult to trace. The courtyard o f the Jahàngîrï M ahal, probably
A k b ar’s w ork in spite o f its name, is an Indian design with square pillars and
bracket-capitals, richly carved, and rows o f small arches constructed in Hindu
fashion without voussoirs. Other parts o f A k b ar’s palace are slightly more
Persian in style. The hall o f the palace at Allàhàbâd (1583), with its boldly
projecting veranda ro o f supported on rows o f Hindu pillars, is a definitely
Indian design, with hardly a single 'S aracen ic’ feature in it.
But the chief centre o f A k b ar’s building activity is the city o f Fatehpur-
Sîkrï, twenty-three miles from  grâ, which he founded in 1569 and was the
seat o f his court until 1584 or 1585. It was systematically laid out by him, has
hardly been altered since, and is now deserted. It originally had a circum
ference o f nearly seven miles, with walls on three sides pierced by nine gate
ways and a very large artificial lake on the fourth side. The Jàmi' Masjid o f the
322 M uslim A rchitecture in India
city has a quadrangle 433 feet by 366 feet, surrounded by cloisters, with a vast
number o f small domed cells, one behind each bay o f the cloister, which
accommodated the Muslim teachers and their pupils, for this m osque served
as the university o f Fatehpur. The Mecca liwân with its three domes, its rows
o f pillars supporting the roof, and its lofty central propylon, follows an Indo-
M uslim type we have met before. T w o tombs stand in the quadrangle on the
north side; there is a central gateway in the east colonnade; and in the middle
o f the south side is the magnificent Buland D arw âza (‘ high gatew ay’),
130 feet wide, 88 feet deep, and 134 feet high. Built to commemorate A kbar’s
conquests, it is universally recognized as one o f his greatest buildings. Though
its huge recessed and vaulted portal, with a wide rectangular frame o f flat
ornament, is essentially Persian in character, the kiosks on its ro o f give it an
Indian flavour. The palace o f Fatehpur-Slkri contains a number o f remarkable
buildings, including A k b ar’s office or Diwan-i- Am, a Hindu design with a
projecting veranda ro o f over a colonnade; and the wonderful H all o f Private
Audience (Dîwân-i-Khâs), a masterpiece o f planning, construction, and orna
ment, all o f a distinctly Indian character. T he city also contains two large
houses o f notable and unusual form, the palaces o f R aja Birbal and o f Jodh
Bài. _
A k b a r’s mausoleum (c. 1593-1613) is at Sikandara near  grâ. It is a
colossal structure standing on an enormous arcaded podium 30 feet high and
320 feet square. T he mausoleum proper is rather m ore than 150 feet square
and several stories high, with stepped walls o f marble pierced with delicate
trellis-work. The ro o f o f this structure-is flat, with a small kiosk at each
corner, and it seems probable, if not certain, that a central dome was origin
ally intended to complete the group.
A k b a r was followed by Jahangir (1605-28), who lived mainly at Lâhore,
where he carried out the charming M o ti M asjid (‘ Pearl M osqu e’) and a con
siderable amount o f extension to thé palace in the fort. Jahangir, even more
than A kbar, was a lover o f gardens, some o f them laid out in patterns like a
Persian carpet. H e built ‘ paradises’ at Udaipur, Srinagar, and Fatehpur-
Slkri; but the chief examples were the Shâh-Dâra or ‘ Garden o f D eligh t’ near
Lahore, surrounding his own mausoleum, and the garden o f the tom b o f
I'tim adu’d-daula at  grâ. This last monument (1621-8) is noteworthy less for
its general design than for its decoration, the exterior being covered with an
inlay o f pietra dura, a fashion which may have been imported and thereafter
became popular.
The reign o f Shâh Jahân (1628-58) was the golden age o f M ughal archi
tecture in India and produced a series o f noble buildings. B y far the most
magnificent o f all these was the celebrated T àj M ahal at À grâ (1631-53),
erected in memory o f his favourite queen, M um tâz-i-M ahal (‘ the Elect o f the
P ala ce’), after whom it is named. The frequently quoted statement that the
architect was an Italian has been denied by some historians. It is not in
credible, though insufficiently documented, and may be a legend invented by
those who consider the design o f the building so marvellous that they wish to
find a non-Indian authorship for it. Adm ittedly it is the greatest w ork o f the
M ughals, but it is a natural grow th from the tomb o f Humâyfm and to a lesser
extent from certain otHers. But it is far superior to any o f them in the dignity
M uslim Architecture in India 323
o f ils grouping and disposition, in the masterly contrast between the central
dome and the slender minarets, in the chaste refinement and painstaking
craftmanship o fits details, and above all in the splendour o f its materials. The
design is more Persian and less Indian than any building we have encountered
hitherto, yet nothing quite like it is to be found in Persia. The mausoleum itself
closely resembles the tomb o f Humâyùn, being a square (o f 186 feet) with
canted angles rather than an octagon. The square is composed o f a high
central block, octagonal within, buttressed at each angle by projections, with
a great Persian portal between each pair. The slightly bulbous dom e rises from ,
a circular drum. A ll the arches are o f Persian type. On each angle o f the sub
structure stands a small domed kiosk. The beautiful centra! cham ber is rest
fully lit through marble trellis-work in the window openings, to break the
glare o f the sun. The mausoleum stands on a terrace 22 feet high and 313 feet
-square with a cylindrical minaret, divided into stages by galleries, at each
angle. The w hole o f these buildings are in dazzling white marble and large
parts of them are inlaid with coloured marbles and precious stones in delicate
Persian patterns. The group is surrounded by a lovely form al garden, with
avenues o f cypresses and long lily-ponds leading up the mausoleum, and the
river which bounds the garden on the north provides marvellous reflections.
The Tâj M ahal is one o f the great buildings o f the world, and has inspired
every serious critic who has seen it to express his admiration.
Only second in importance to the T aj is Shâh Jahàn’s w ork in the palace at
Àgrâ, carried out between 1638 and 1653, and including the Diwân-i-'Âm, the
Dhvân-i-Khâs, and. the M oti Masjid. In these various buildings, though red
sandstone is used to some extent, white marble with coloured inlay is the pre
vailing material. Opulent elegance pervades the w hole scheme, and the effect
is a satisfactory blending o f Indo-M uslim elements. Som e writers indeed p ro
fess to rate the M ot! Masjid higher than the T âj. Shâh Jahàn also laid out
charming gardens at D elhi and Lâhore, and in the latter city the mosque o f
W azïr Khàn (1634) was built in his reign. It is the chief m osque o f the town,
Persian in general character, and freely decorated w ith coloured and glazed
tiles. A t Ajmer are some beautiful marble pavilions on the embankment o f the
lake, also due to Shâh Jahân.
His w ork at Delhi, too, was considerable. It included the walls o f the
‘ seventh c ity ’ o f D elhi called after him ‘ Shâhjahànàbâd’ , and built between
163S and i6$8. Its fine walls and gates have been well preserved, as bave his
fort and the palace within it. Bounded on one side by the river, this vastcom -
plex o f buildings, covering an area over 1,000 yards by 600 yards, is admirably
laid out in an ordered sequence o f courts, but it suffered severely from British
military occupation in the unimaginative period before Lord C urzon cam e on
the scene. A s in the other M ughal palaces described, the two chief buildings
are the Dimin-i- Am and the Diwân-i-Khâs, and here they are o f great beauty,
richly decorated with marble inlay, and Indo-M uslim in character.
Shâh Jahân also built in 1644-58 the huge Jâm i' M asjid near the fort at
Delhi, with a quadrangle 325 feet square and two fine cylindrical minarets. Its
outstanding feature is its commanding position, fo r it is placed on a high
podium, a most unusual arrangement for a Muham m adan mosque. Whereas
the dômes, the minarets, and certain other parts o f the building are Persian,
324 M uslim A rchitecture in India
.the general efiect is hybrid, and llic angle pavilions arc definitely Indian.
M arble is used here too, but in combination svith red sandstone.
A t Bïjâpur, which was the capital o f an independent kingdom from 14S9
until it was taken by Aurangzeb in 16S6, there was a nourishing school
throughout the M ughal period, characterized by m any distinctive features o f
design. These included the use o f purely ornamental minarets— the call to
prayer being chanted by the muezzin from a small platform elsewhere— rich
cornices, and ingenious domc-construction in which pendentives were em
ployed. Fcrgusson wrote o f the architecture o f Bïjâpur in terms o f the highest
eulogy. Cousens, whose survey o f the buildings o f Bïjâpur provides a mine o f
inform ation, says that ‘ there is abundant evidence to show that first-class
architects were induced to come south from Northern India’ to Bïjâpur, while
there are traces o f Hindu tradition in some o f the buildings, proving that the
Hindu craftsmen retained some o f their individuality. Bïjâpur at the height of
its prosperity, early in the seventeenth century, is said to have contained nearly
a million inhabitants and some 1,600 mosques; but during the Marâthâ
suprem acy in the eighteenth century it fell into ruin and its buildings were
freely plundered for stone and other material. They were then smothered in
jungle up to 1883, when Bïjâpur became a British headquarters.
L ack o f space forbids more than a mention o f the chief examples. T h e large
but incomplete Jami' M asjid, commenced about 1576^ is one o f the finest
mosques in India, severely plain but relieved by delicate elatre-voies (pierced
windows). In front o f the mihrâb is a large dome o f unusual construction, the
external appearance of which would be improved by the addition o f a drum.
T h e rest o f the M ecca liwân is covered with a number o f small stone domes,
supported on piers and arches but concealed externally by a flat terrace roof.
Th e gorgeous gilt and coloured mihrâb is o f later date (1636). T he numerous
halls, pavilions, and mosques in the citadel include the graceful M ihtar Mahal
(c. 1620), a small mosque with a striking gate-tower, said by Fergusson to be
‘ equal i f n otsuperior to anything in C a iro ’ ; the Sat M anzil, a small palace o f
many stories; the Gegen M ahal (? 1561), an assembly hall with a noble arch
w ay; and the Jalamandir, a dainty water-pavilion. Elsewhere in the city are
two large isolated monuments: the tomb o f Ibrâhîm II and his fam ily (1626
33), com m only called the ‘ Ibrâhîm R a u za ’, and the mausoleum (Gol Gumbaz)
o f M uham m ad, his successor, which was finished in 1659. T h e former is
chiefly notable for its rich decoration, the latter for the remarkable and daring
construction o f its enormous dome.
Shâh Jalnin, whose pris'ate life was less creditable than his architecture, was
deposed in 1658 by Aurangzeb, his third son. The buildings o f Aurangzeb’s
reign are inferior in all respects to those o f Shâh Jahân. Am ong them may be
mentioned the M ott Masjid at Delhi (1659) with delicate marble decoration;
and the Bâdshàhï mosque at Làhore (1674), which is almost a copy o f the
Jâmi' M asjid at D elhi, though inferior to it in several respects. From that date
onwards M uslim architecture in India declined but never died. T he superb
standard set by the Tâj was imitated in buildings o f all kinds— mpsques and
tombs, palaces ànd houses— till the British finally introduced Indo-Muslim
railway-stations and hotels. Thus the well-known buildings erected by Tïpü
Sultàn at Srlrangapatnam in the eighteenth century are Muslim architecture
M uslim Architecture in India 3?-5
o f a sort, though in its most Indiau form, but they are decadent in their
elegance.
Undoubtedly the long occupation o f the chief M uslim cities o f India by
British army officers with little sympathy for historical architecture led to
clumsy and sometimes barbarous treatmcut o f certain buildings, such as those
royal palaces which lay inside forts. But under the administration o f Lord
Curzon the care o f ancient monuments began to receive really serious atten
tion. It seems that historical buildings in India may now be regarded as sacro
sanct, but neither the official mind nor the intelligentsia in India appears to
have any clear idea as to the proper relation between traditional architecture
and modern needs in that country. Was it really desirable, as Havell so
fiercely contended, that the N ew Delhi should be designed on old Hindu lines,
with its secretarial offices and its sanitary conveniences hidden behind imita
tion temple facades ? Is the style of the Tàj M ahal, erected by an enormously
rich emperor three centuries ago, suitable in any way to the severely econo
mical requiremeuts o f modern commerce and industry?
A t a recent London exhibition o f Indian architects’ designs it was evident
that the Indian architect o f today is producing schemes and erecting buildings
in every shade o f fashion from the archaic Hindu temple style to the latest fad
in reinforced concrete and stainless steel, while the outstanding design in the
exhibition— for a mosque at Bhopal, with a charming Cairene minaret and
admirable traditional detail— bore a Muslim signature and an office-address
in Baker Street, London. It will be interesting to see how India will regard her
architectural heritage in the next generation: whether she will continue and
revive the Indo-Muslim style o f the M ughals; whether she will follow a m odi
fied European fashion, with domes and minarets added here and there; or
whether she will evolve some new formula, not necessarily based on any
European precedent, to meet the changed economic conditions and social
habits o f the day.’ 5
ls Though we have somewhat abridged the final paragraphs o f this chapter, we leave them
essentially as they were written forty years ago. The exhibition referred to has long been
forgotten, but the author's remarks on it may still be valid, despite many impressive build
ings in modern style recently erected in India and the importation o f the great architect Jo
Corbusier to plan Chandigarh, the new capital o f the Indian state o f Panjâb. Typical o f
much modern Indian architecture is the Ashoka Hotel, New Delhi, which, further developing
the hybrid styles o f the government buildings o f New Delhi, is an unsatisfactory mixture of
Hindu, Muslim, and twentieth-century functional features. (Ed.J
C H A P T E R X X III
1 R. fittinshnusen, ‘ The Ruslan Ms ol'Nasir-Shah K halji’, Mtirg, Vol. 12, No. 3 (1959)1
pp. 42-3. ' "
M edieval Indian Miniature Painting 327
1500),* though indebted to the contem porary style o f Shiraz, shows pro
nounced Indian features, particularly in draughtsmanship and the rendering
o f female figures, and m ay therefore be counted as representative o f a stage-ôf
artistic development when Persian influences are beginning to be assimilated
by the Indian painter, a process that is o f profound im portance in the creation
o f the M ughal, and to a much lesser extent o f the Rajasthani style in the
sixteenth century.
It would be well at this stage to consider the state o f Indian painting aside
from these w orks o f Indo-Persiàn character, a term that m ay be appropriately
applied to what amounts, in a m ajority o f instances, to little more than an
other provincial Persian idiom. T h e national style o f the period was the
western Indian style, found in one version or another over alm ost all o f India.
Surviving examples indicate that the greatest concentration was in G ujarât
and that the main patronage was provided by the Jainas, though this m ay be
accidental and occasioned by the especial care with which that com m unity
preserved its sacred books. M anuscripts with Hindu themes are known as well,
and we also have illustrations-done in Rajasthan, Delhi, and Jaunpur in
eastern India. The favourite Jaina texts chosen for illustration were the
Kalpasutra and Kâiakâchârya-kathâ, large numbers o f which have been pre
served, though works o f distinguished quality are rare, and m uch o f the paint
ing m ay be characterized fairly as mechanical w orkshop output. The style is
emphatically linear, the form s flat, with sharp angular contours, the faces
generally in profile but'w ith both eyes shown, one o f them protruding into
empty space. The colours are few, red, green, blue, yellow, and black pre
dominating, a monochrome patch o f red often constituting the background.
Difficult though it m ay be to believe at first sight, the western Indian style
is directly descended from the classic style o f ancient India established around
the fifth century a .d ., so brilliantly represented and preserved at A jantâ, and
is the result o f a progressive simplification, abstraction, and linearization, the
various stages o f which are clearly demonstrable. T hough not immune to
stylistic change, the western Indian style was nevertheless rem arkably con
servative, adhering closely to set form ulae right up to the end o f the sixteenth
century, around which lime it gives way under the pressure o f rising new
schools. ,
Though the conservative character o f the western Indian style is generaliy
accepted, it has nevertheless to be realized that around the middle o f the
fifteenth century the style does begin to show signs o f real change, though it is
not clear whether this is due to acquaintance with paintings o f Persian deriva
tion or due to a natural development o f its own inherent tendencies. Paintings
illustrating this change are rare, but are clearly represented in three fine
illustrated manuscripts, the Kalpasutra painted at M àndü in 1439, a Kâla-
kâchârya-kathâ o f about the same date and provenance, and the Kalpasutra
produced a t Jaunpur in eastern U ttar Pradesh dated a .d . 1465.1 T h e line
1 R . Skelton, 'T h e N i’mat N am a: a Landmark in Malwa Painting’ , ibid., pp. 44-50.
1 M oti Chandra and K . Kliandalavala, ‘ A Consideration o f an Illustrated Ms from
Mandapadurga (Mandu) dated a .d . 1439’, Laid Kaia, 6 (Oct. 1959), 8-29, and ‘ A n Illu
strated KalpasQlra Painted at Jaunpur in a .d . 1465', ibid. 12 (Oct. 1962), 9 -15; P. Chandra,
*A Unique Kâlakacârya-kathâ Ms in the Style o f the Mandu Katpnsutra o f a .d . 1439',
Bulletin o f the American Academy o f Benares, 1 (Nov, 1967}, 1-10.
328 M edieval Indian M iniatura Painting
flows more smoothly, the forms are fuller, and the figures begin to lose their
hieratic, effigy-like character. It should be obvious that these manuscripts
herald the birth o f a hew style, and that this new style did come into being and
was flourishing by at least tbe early years o f the sixtecntji century' is confirmed
by the discovery o f an illustrated manuscript o f the Aranyaka Parvan o f the
Mahâbhârata dated a .d . 1516 and o f a Mahâpurâna manuscript dated a . d .
1540.+ T h e promise o f this new style is carried to fulfilment in the splendid
Bhâgavata Parana, now unfortunately dispersed in collections all over the
world, and the Chaurapanchasika o f Bilhana in the museum at Ahm edâbâd’. 5
A m ore refined version o f this style is to be found in manuscripts like the
Chandâyana o f M ullà D àüd in the Prince o f Wales M useum ,6 Bom bay, which
is marked by a preference for pale and cool shades o f colour, o f Persian in
spiration, together with a delicate and fine line.
The first h alf o f the sixteenth century, as far as painting is concerned, was a
time o f fervent activity. W e find in existence at this time Indo-Persian styles,
patronized presum ably by M uslim courtly circles, a western Indian style, and
new styles developing from it which have not yet been named but are repre
sented by the group o f manuscripts, including the Mahâbhârata and the
Chaurapanchasika, mentioned above.
Thus the stage was set when in a . d . 1556 A kb ar, a grandson o f Bâbur, the
founder o f the M ughal Empire in India, ascended the throne. The young em
peror had himself received training in painting as a child and his teacher,
K hw âja ‘A b d us-Samad o f Shîràz together with M ir Saiyyid ‘ A ll o f Tabriz
had been leading artists in Iran before they came to India at the invitation of
H um àyün. Under the general supervision o f these tw o artists and the discern
ing enthusiasm o f A kbar, whose role as a patron was o f the greatest import
ance, a vigorous atelier o f painters drawn from all parts o f the Indian Empire
grew up at the imperial court. These artists brought with them elements o f the
various traditions to which they belonged and, in what is probably the
earliest w ork o f the M ughal School, the Tûti Nâtna o f the Cleveland Museum
o f A rt,7 we can actually see the process by which their disparate idioms were
welded to form something new— a style which represents a synthesis o f the
Persian and the Indian but is different from both. V ery soon we have the fully
formed M ughal style in the unusually large illustrations o f the Dâstân i-Amir
Hamza,* the most ambitious undertaking o f the atelier o f A kbar, quite unlike
Persian w ork in its leanings towards naturalism, and’ filled with sweeping
movement, bright colour, and an innate sense o f wonder.
The Hamza Nâma was certainly completed by A.D. i 575 and an undertaking
o f this scale was never again attempted by the A k b arl atelier. It was followed
style o f the A kbar period, though many elements that come to the fore had
been previously anticipated. The tradition o f book illustration is gradually
abandoned and there is a pronounced emphasis on portraiture. T h e great
darbar pictures, thronged with courtiers and retainers, are essentially an
agglomeration o f a large number o f portraits. The compositions o f these
paintings are also much more restrained, being calm and formal. T he colours
are subdued and harmonious, as is the movement, and the exquisitely de
tailed brushwork is a marvel to behold. A large num ber.of studies o f birds
and animals were also produced for the Emperor, who was passionately in
terested in natural life, and who never ceased to observe, describe, measure,
and record the things rare and curious with which the natural world abounds.
T o Jahangir, painting is the favourite art; he prides him self on his con-
nóisseurship, and greatly honours his favourite painters. A b u ’] Hasan, the son
o f ^.qâ R izà, who migrated to the M ughal Court from Herat, is m ost ad
. mired'; Ustâd M ansür is singled out for praise as a painter o f animals and
1 birds; and Bishandâs is said to be unequalled in his age for taking likenesses.
The works o f these painters bear out the Emperor’s judgement. There were
other painters o f exceptional quality, though they did not find their way into
the Emperor’s memoirs, and o f these M anohar, son o f Basàwan, Govardhan,
and D aulat are easily as great as the Em peror’s favourites.
W ith Shâh Jahân, whose main interest was architecture,- but who was also
a keen connoisseur o f painting, the Jahânglrl traditions nre continued, but in
a modified way. T h e compositions become static and symmetrical, the colour
heavier, the texture and ornament more sumptuous. The freshness o f drawing,
the alert and sensitive observation o f people and things, is overlaid by a weary
maturity, resulting not in the representation o f living beings but in effigies with
masked countenances. The output o f the imperial atelier also appears to de
cline so that there are far fewer works available, and o f these the Shah Jahân
Nâma in the collection o f Her M ajesty Queen Elizabeth,” looted during the
sack o f Lucknow by British troops, is the finest and most representative ex
ample o f the style. There are also several portraits o f Shâh Jahân and the
grandees o f the court which again demonstrate the movement towards rich
ness and luxury at the expense o f life.
D uring the reign o f Aurangzeb ( a .d . 1658-1707) patronage seems increas
ingly to shift away from the court; works which can be identified as products
o f the imperial atelier are extremely few and continue the style o f Shâh Jahân.
This would at least indicate a lack o f interest, though Aurangzeb’s antipathy
to the arts has been greatly exaggerated. The fairly large number o f paintings
assigned to his reign were probably executed for patrons other than the
Emperor, this leading to an inevitable decline, for M ughal painting was
essentially a .carefully nurtured court art, and its removal from the natural
habitat led to its impoverishment and debasement. There was a brief revival
during the reign o f Muhammad Shâh ( a . d . 1719-48), but the rapid disintegra
tion o f the M ughal Empire sealed the fate o f the arts which were intimately
associated with it. Artists dispersed to the various provincial centres where the
great nobles were establishing kingdoms o f their own, and there, on occasion,
The Portuguese
by J. B. H a r r i s o n
A t the turn o f the fifteenth century two invaders approached India: the
Portuguese by sea, the M ugbals by land. Both initiated great and lasting
changes. B u t whereas the M ughal contribution, political, administrative, and
cultural, has been justly appreciated, that o f the Portuguese has been both
undervalued and almost perversely misunderstood. In popular m ythology the
Portuguese contribution to India has often seemed narrowed down to ju st two
personages— Vasco da G am a, dauntless navigator and to Europeans ‘ dis
coverer’ o f India, and Albuquerque, the creator by terror and the sword o f a
brief sea-borne Portuguese empire in Asia. For after 1515, by which time the
w ork o f these two was done, it is som ehow assumed that a decadent obscurity
set in, fitfully lit by the flash o f swords at D iu or the glare o f Inquisition fires,
but otherwise steadily darkening under Portuguese intolerance, miscegena
tion, and greed.
Y e t to Indian contemporaries it must have been the growing prosperity, the
strength and resilience, the stability and permanence o f the Portuguese pow er
in India which was most notable until well into the seventeenth century and
even beyond. Within fifty years o f da G am a’s arrival the Portuguese had
occupied some sixty miles o f coast around G oa, with territories stretching up
to thirty miles inland. N orthw ards from Bom bay to D am ao, the key, with
D iu across the G ulf, to the approaches to rich G ujarat, they occupied a still
larger though narrower tract with four important ports and several hundred
towns and villages. Southwards they held a long loosely linked chain o f sea
port fortresses and trading-posts— Onor, Barcelor, M angalor, Cannanor,
Cranganor, Cochin, and Quilon. But though their power here in M alabar was
more fragmented, it was sufficient, when supplemented by judicious subsidies,
to ensure influence or control over the local rulers who were masters o f the
pepper, ginger, and cinnamon lands. Even on the east coast at Negapatam
and San Thom é further military posts and settlements were created, while, as
the sixteenth century drew to a close, a wealthy settlement grew up at Hugli in
Bengal and direct Portuguese rule was established over the lowlands o f Ceylon.
T h e Estado da India was thus a larger element in the Indian state system
than is sometimes recalled. The Portuguese early abandoned that Western
attitude which had denied membership o f the community o f states to non-
Christian powers, recognizing that the Persians, Mughals, and Deccanîs were
‘ m ostpow erful nations, politic, well trained in w a r’ . Equally, Indian governors
and rulers soon gave their recognition to the Estado as a settled and accepted
presence. Envoys and resident ambassadors were exchanged between G oa and
most o f the major Indian states. Treaties with G oa concluded by Deccan
sultans in 1570 were regularly renewed as long as their kingdoms lasted. In the
successive balances o f power struck between Vijayanagara and the Deccan
338 The Portuguese
sultans, between the Deccanis and the Mughals, between the Mughals and the
Marâthâs, the Portuguese were always one element, thrown in upon the
weaker side.
The Portuguese power in India was also notably long-lasting. The number
o f European troops garrisoning the string o f forts and manning the fleets
which annually cruised against pirates and smugglers was never more than a
few thousand. But behind them was the much larger body o f settlers, the
casados or married men, who from Albuquerque’s day had been encouraged
to take local wives. In G oa and the Province o f the N orth they established
themselves as village landlords— often im proving landlords, building new
roads and irrigation works, introducing new crops like tobacco and cashew
nut, or superior plantation varieties o f coconut. In the larger.cities,-Gpa and ;
Cochin especially, they settled as artisans and master-craftsmen. A n d every
where they were traders. Such men, holding villages for three lives Or organized
in guilds, felt, and were, established. A s a D utch governor, V an Diem en, put
it, ‘ M ost o f the Portuguese in India look upon this region as their fatherland,
and think no more about Portugal. They drive little or no trade thither,but
content themselves with the port-to-port trade o f Asia, just as if they were
natives thereof and had no other country.’ Their permanent presence was in
strumental in establishing Portuguese cultural influence. But with their
families, their often considerable bodies o f household slaves, and the horse
men or musketeers which as landowners they were required to maintain, they
also form ed the major element in the defensive strength o f the Estado. They
defeated a most determined, lengthy, conjoint attack by the sultans o f Bijâpur-
and Ahm adnagar and the Zam orin o f Calicut in 1569. It. was with their aid
that the loose-knit Province o f the South survived for over 150 years, M alabar
only falling finally to the D utch in 1663 after a four-year siege o f Cochin. And.
equally it was because they were fighting for their homes:that the Portuguese
in the Province o f the N orth, the. real settler country, held out still longer
against M aràthà attach, only surrendering after a m ost desperate defence o f
Bassein in M ay 1739. It- was almost in thefitness o f things that when G oa,
D am âo, and D iu were overrun by the Indian army in 1961, they were the last,
foreign possessions in the continent-.
W hat was . the nature o f this Estado da India, which for two and a half
centuries was a considerable, and for another two still a m inor element in the
Indian political system? A casual reading o f Barros, C outo, or Castanhcda,
the great Portuguese chroniclers o f its rise, would suggest that it was based
solely upon force, upon a policy o f calculated terror ashore and piracy at-sea,
sustained by a combination o f reckless valour and technical skill. But these
historians were writing in a court tradition for a m ilitary nobility, whose
vanity was best flattered by heroic descriptions o f every skirmish in which they
were engaged. A nd even from their works, or m ore clearly still from-those o f
Correa and Bocarro, it is not difficult to see that the Portuguese in A sia were
more concerned with trade than conquest, once the necessary minimum of
coastal bases had been acquired.
The Portuguese were certainly ready to use force where it would pay. But
their numbers were small, and their technical superiority much less consider
able than was once supposed. In M alabar and Ceylon in the sixteenth century
The Portuguese 339
their use o f body armour, o f matchlockmen, o f guns landed from the ships,
might he a military innovation. But to G ujarât, the D eccan, and the M ughal
north it was the Mamelukes and Ottomans who had demonstrated the use o f
fire-arms and defensive works, and at a level o f sophistication which the
Portuguese could barely match. T he Portuguese m ay have contributed by
example to the M ughal use o f field guns, the ‘ artillery o f the stirrup’ , and to
the more aggressive and important role given to bodies o f m atchlockm en by
D ârâ Shukôh and Aurangzeb. But it was only late in the seventeenth century
that the royal arsenals at G oa and at M acao in China began to produce guns
which were clearly superior in finish and lightness to Indian pieces and there
fore sought after by Indian pow ers.' T h e one m ajor m ilitary contribution
made by the Portuguese ashore was the system o f drilling bodies o f infantry,
grouped and disciplined upon the Spanish model, introduced in the 1630s as a
counter to D utch pressure. Taken up first by the French and English, then by
the M arâthâs and Sikhs, such sepoy armies became new instruments o f em
pire in India.
A t sea the Portuguese were more clearly carriers o f improved techniques.
T h e heavier construction o f their multi-dècked ships, designed to ride out
Atlantic gales rather than run before the regular m onsoons, permitted a
heavier armament. Their use o f castled prow and stern, an admirable device
for repelling or launching boarding parties, was also new. Indian builders
adapted both to their own use. But some o f the Portuguese lead was organiza
tional— as in the creation o f royal arsenals and dockyards, the maintenance o f
a regular system o f pilotage and cartography, or the pitting o f organized state
forces against private merchant shipping. Their legacy here was partly secured,
it m ay be thought, by the M ughals and M arâthâs, w ho both developed
auxiliary naval forces. But the m ore certain heirs were other Europeans, the
D utch and English, in Asia.
The Portuguese used their real superiority at sea, limited though it always
was by the very vastness o f the ocean world which had opened up to them in
A sia, to establish new patterns o f trade. An obsession w ith the conquests o f
Albuquerque has obscured what is quite clear in the history written by Correa,
for example, that the driving impulse behind the search for a sea-route to
India was commercial, and that the m ost clear-cut orders w ere given and quite
strenuous efforts made to secure trade without war. There occurred, it is true,
an initial period o f violence, sometimes provoked by the hostility o f existing
merchant communities, more frequently by the rashness and personal grèed o f
Portuguese commanders on the spot. In the western Indian Ocean there was a
longer-term constraint imposed by the posting o f annual Portuguese fleets
upon the main sea-lanes to make sure that local shipping to o k out Portuguese
safe-conducts or cartazes, which prescribed what ports m ight be visited, what
goods carried— and at which Portuguese customs-posts dues were to be paid.
But, as C . R . Boxer and M . A . P. M eilink-R oelofsz have effectively dem on
strated, early violence was followed by a long period o f pacific trade, con
ducted very often in partnership with Asian merchahts and upon level terms
with them. It can be argued indeed that it was the peaceful pursuit o f profit,
1 Maràthâ treaties o f the early eighteenth century regularly provided for the purchase o f
guns and ammunition from the Portuguese.
340 The Portuguese
In the old days, when men reached India they asked ’ which is the most dangerous
outpost?' or'where are the fleets in which the most honourable service can be done?’,
whereas nowadays covetousness has got such a hold, that on their arrival they ask,
‘ who is preparing for a trading voyage to China, or Japan, or Bengal, or Pegu, or
Sunda?’
However, it must be recognized that it was the profits o f trade, the port-to-
port trade especially, from India westwards to Africa and Arabia, and east to
M alacca, the Spice Islands, China, and Japan, which sustained the w hole
edifice o f the Estado da India. Trade, and the dues levied upon trade legally or
corruptly, paid for the troops and administrators, made possible a “missionary
effort extending from Abyssinia to Peking, and made G o a , the hub o f the
whole system, the golden city o f travellers’ reports.
With their trade between Lisbon and G oa the Portuguese initiated that
m ajor com m ercial revolution which ended in the effective incorporation o f
India, indeed, o f all A sia, into a single global system o f exchange. T he fleets
returning from G oa to Lisbon and thence to the royal ‘ fa cto ry ’ at Antw erp
tapped the growing m arkets o f north Europe more thoroughly than ever be
fore/B u t by w ay o f L isbon India was also linked with the Portuguese colony
o f Brazil and w ith their settlements in West A frica, totally new markets. Initi
ally the use by tbe Portuguese o f the Cape route to India was followed by some
dislocation o f existing routes from India to southern E urope via the Levant.
H owever, the old pattern was soon re-established, but was now supplemented
b y an additional trade, o f almost equal proportions, by w ay o f the Cape. In
M alabar the cultivation o f pepper, the old staple o f trade with Europe, and o f
ginger and cinnamon, was extended almost to its natural limits. Also, to m eet
the enlarged demand for coir rigging and cordage, there was a systematic
planting o f coconut groves. And in the weaving areas o f Gujarat, Corom andel,
and Bengal the first ripples were felt o f what'was to becom e in the late seven
teenth century a wave o f demand from Europe for cotton textiles, m ainly for
household use still, rather than dress, but with some re-export o f cloth for the
N egro slaves in the colonies.
N o less im portant was the return flow from Europe to India, not o f goods
but o f bullion. From south G erm any and Hungary one stream o f silver and
copper was drawn, and then, once the mines o f Spanish Am erica had been
discovered, a second and much larger flow o f silver and gold by way o f Cadiz.
In this w ay the gross imbalance in the supply o f bullion, which caused an
equally great and ham pering variation in price levels between the various
trading areas o f tbe world, began to be reduced— a process further speeded
up as Spanish silver began to m ove to.the Philippines and thence to the rest o f
A sia. The price rise which followed, no less than the opening o f new world
markets, helped to stimulate Indian production and trade.
The Portuguese not only linked India with Europe, A frica, and tbe
The Portuguese 341
Am ericas, they also tied India more closely and effectively to other Asian
markets. Annually there set out from -G oa voyages fo r East Africa, Bengal,
M alacca, the Spice Islands, China, and Japan, which between them brought
together three trading areas hitherto semi-independent in their organization.
A t the same time individual Portuguese merchants and ship-masters, often in
conjunction with Indian partners, penetrated to all corners o f the Indian
Ocean and China Sea on smaller trading ventures. T he Dutchman, Linscho-
ten, in 1583 noted that in G oa one could buy the products o f all Asia. It is
typical that among the church vestments o f G oa there are to be seen not only
fine examples o f local raised gold and silver embroidery, but a chasuble which
in style, motifs; and composition has all the qualities o f eighteenth-century
Chinese porcelain, altar frontals strongly marked in their treatment o f foliage
by Persian influences, and capes whose decorations o f flower sprigs declare a
M ughal flavour.
O f such actual manufactures o f the time com paratively few specimens have
survived— just sufficient to trace the interchange o f goods and styles which the
Portuguese trade fostered. That same interchange has,' however, been much
more clearly and permanently recorded in the flora o f India, to which the
Portuguese made many notable contributions. Tobacco was one o f their
earliest introductions— carried to the Deccan by 150S, it reached north India
in A k b ar’s day and was denounced by Jahangir as a pernicious weed. Another,
less noxious gift from South Am erica was the pineapple, brought to Europe by
C ortez in 1513, carried by the Portuguese to India, and sufficiently established
there in the same century for the M ughal emperor to have one on his table
daily. The arrival o f yet another fruit which today is fully a t home in India
was recorded in the 1580s by Linschoten: ‘ There is another fruit which came
from the Spanish Indies, brought thence by way o f the Philippines or Luzon to
M alacca and so to India: it is called the papaya and much resembles a m elon’ .
The Muslim name for the cashew nut— bâdâm-i-farangi— reveals that this
tree, now naturalized in the K onkan and the Chittagong hills, was also a
Portuguese introduction. There has been much argument about whether
maize was really brought to India by the Portuguese, but that they introduced
the peanut from Africa, the mandioca from which tapioca is made, and the
sweet potato seems certain enough. Even the familiar Indian lâl mirich or red
pepper turns out to have been brought by them from Pernambuco. They also
did much to spread Asian plants within Asia itself— the durian and mangosteen
from M alaya, smilax glabra, the drug ‘ China ro o t’, lichees, and the sweet
orange among them. Since their physicians were always on the look out for
new specifics, they also introduced a number o f medicinal drugs, while even a
number o f decorative garden plants were carried with them— o f which
mirabilis jalopa, or the M arvel of Peru, may stand as an example. With such a
list o f introductions to their credit, the high praise given by Jean-Baptiste
Tavernier, who travelled widely in seventeenth-century India, that ‘ the
Portuguese, wherever they came, make the place better for those that come
after them ’, m ay seem fully deserved.
If the Portuguese enriched the flora, they also enriched the languages o f
India. In the island o f G o a and adjacent Bardes and Salsette the Portuguese
language itself was ultimately entrenched. For a while the need to reach out to
342 The Portuguese
3J. Lucena, ffistoria da vida do padre Francisco de Xavier, Bk. V, Ch. 25.
344 The Portuguese
From such.schools came the singers and musicians who performed Cam ôes’s
Filodemo in G oa in 1555, or those who at the end o f the century were sum
moned from G oa to celebrate a Feast in the Jesuits’ little chapel at the M ughal
C ourt, or those who som ewhat later still provided the elaborate production,
with Indian pupils skilfully perform ing on twelve different instruments, for
the Germ an traveller M andelslo. They also taught the less elaborate skills
locally required for parish services and for those in honour o f the patron saint
or the H oly Cross o f the village or quarter, for the more elaborate nones and
vespers o f the Feast o f the Virgin with their triple choirs and, most popular
and m oving, the motets sung on the Passion theme during Lent. The same
skills and traditions were also put to secular use, in singing o f such traditional
forms as the vilhancico and the loa, sung by the women at weddings, or in the
mando, the languid, two-part dance, sung by the Christians o f G oa in K onkani,
which is the most characteristic popular musical form o f Portuguese India.
Such has been the strength o f these traditional schools that for many years
Goans have provided most o f the interpreters and players o f Western music
in India.
The missionaries and the Church were also teachers and patrons in India o f
the arts o f the painter, carver, and sculptor. A s in music, moreover, they were
the interpreters, not narrowly o f Portuguese, but o f European art to India. N ot
only was it the case that members o f the religious orders came from all over
Europe. Portugal itself after the establishment o f the royal factory in Antwerp
was strongly exposed to the influence o f Flemish and thence o f Italian art,
while after 1580 the union o f the Crowns o f Spain and Portugal opened the
latter country again to foreign influences. India Portuguesa was thus heir to
many artistic traditions.
M ost o f the pictorial art was religious in theme and inspiration. There sur
vives a great gallery o f portraits o f the governors-general and viceroys, full-
length studies— though o f uncertain date and attribution— covering some
four and a h a lf centuries in G o a . In the convent o f Santa M onica there are
patches o f impressive, lively murals which record the G oan world o f about
1600. Som e private portrait painting survives, too. But the m ost influential
works were certainly those which adorned churches and chapels. H ow they
affected the great M ughal School o f painting has been well explored— as, for
example, in M aclagan’s Jesuits and the Great Mughal. Portuguese, English,
and M ughal records show how interested in Christianity and its art were the
Emperors A k b ar and Jahangir— and their successors in less degree. A b u ’l
FazI, Akb.ar’s biographer and minister, wrote o f ‘ the wonderful works o f
European painters who have attained world-wide fam e’, and the presence o f a
Jesuit mission in north India until the eighteenth century sustained their in
fluence.
There were important paintings in the Jesuit chapels at A gra and Lahore,
but many were also presented to the emperors. The Jesuits in 1595 record that
A k b ar possessed paintings o f Christ and o f the Blessed V irgin; the English
envoy Hawkins, that Jahangir had others o f the Crucifixion and o f the
M adonna and Child. One Jahângîrî album o f miniatures shows large E uro
pean paintings as part o f the audience hall decorations, while other albums
introduce European subjects in their borders, or even bodily incorporate
The Portuguese 345
copies o f imported engravings. Figures and themes from an illustrated P oly
glot Bible presented to A kb ar in 1580, from a calendar by Hans Sebald Behan,
and from engravings, sometimes after Dürer, produced by John W ierix, all
appear in the Mughal albums. A nd if Rem brandt used Indian themes and
models, there are m ost delicate copies o f his pen-and-ink sketches done by
M ughal Court artists— one o f whom, Kesho the elder, had a whole album o f
such copies. European art, thus presented, influenced the M ughal School at a
number o f points. The idea o f the equestrian portrait, the use o f a dark back
ground o f foliage, the rounding out o f figures, new ways o f handling spatial
relationships are examples o f such borrowings. N or was the appreciation o f
European art confined to court circles. T h e Jesuits report great crowds o f
people coming to view the Borghese M adonna in 1580 or the M adonna del
Populo in 1602, when displayed in their chapel. And, as M aciagan has
pointed out, the modern Hindu treatment o f D ev3kl and the infant Krishna
seems to owe something to such paintings o f the M adonna and Child.
N o t only painting interested the M ughals— Jahangir had sketches made o f
the interior'decorations o f the Jesuit church at Lahore. This was not surpris
ing, for the church interiors o f Portuguese India were notable for the richness
o f their decoration, particularly in elaborate gilding o f woodw ork, which,
carved over the ceilings, produced the igreja loda de ouro, the church all o f
gold. The retable, in particular, was most sumptuously handled, with eia-;
borate 'M an n erist’ columns decorated with cherubims, festooned and
swagged, starred and diamonded, w ith shafts, now channelled, now octagonal,
twined about with vines and creepers. Such set pieces, or Solom onic columns,
with polychrome sculpture, coffered and painted ceilings, and lavish use o f
gilding, produced the m ost.striking effects.
Such effects, which were secured not merely in the great churches o f old
G oa, but also in the churches o f D iu and Bassein, and even such parish
churches as N .S. de Penha da Franca or that o f Talegaon, were reinforced
with rich church plate and vestments. G oa was a centre o f the silversmith’s
and goldsmith’s art before Albuquerque's conquest— and at least one G oan
goldsmith, Raulu Chatim , early travelled to the Court at Lisbon. A fter the
conquest there evolved a mixed style in which Portuguese forms were married
to Goan exuberance in decoration. T he Goan cathedral chalices, with their
open, fretted foliage work and bejewelled hafts, or the reliquaries o f Verna
and M argâo, combining Renaissance forms with the decorated, jewel-
encrusted w ork o f local artists, are fine examples o f this marriage o f styles to
produce an appropriately telling effect. A particularly notable example is pro
vided by the tomb o f St. Francis X avier in the Bom Jesus— a silver casket o f
Italianate design, worked by Goan silversmiths, with scenes from the saint’s
life modelled upon religious engravings, and much elaborate filigree work, the
whole set upon a Florentine marble mausoleum shipped out to G oaiin 1698.
Despite their wealth o f w oodw ork and sculpture, further enlivened perhaps
by painted ceilings, church interiors in Portuguese India were generally simple
in'their architectural plan, with square apse and usually aisleless nave. Amy
architectural embellishment that there was, other than the attachment o f
chapels, lay in such surface designs as the shell-capped niche. The exteriors,
too, echo this taste for solidity and simplicity o f general plan, combined with
346 T he Portuguese
In considering the nature of the British impact upon India it is necessary first
to clear the mind on a number o f points. W e have to distinguish in that impact
between the political, the administrative, the economic, and the social ele
ments. W as, for example, the member-of-council, the settlement officer, the
trader, the missionary, or the educationist the most important fo r the future
o f India? O r were they all so m any examples o f ntâyâ, waves o f action break
ing portentously on the shores o f Indian time and then vanishing like so many
dreams? I f the im pact was in fact real, vve have still to distinguish between
what was the restoration o f existing institutions fallen into decay, and what
was the introduction o f something new'. W e have further to consider how far
the British were bringing, as it were, their own wares to India and how far
they were acting as agents for European or Western culture as a whole. And,
for full measure, it must be remembered that W estern culture and civilization
was itself undergoing rapid change and development during most o f the British
period.
A s a first step we m ay consider the validity o f any lasting British impact.
That something occurred to India through British agency is o f course certain,
but it is b y no means so certain that it will have a lasting effect upon the
country'. The Kushanas ruled large areas in north and north-west India for
upwards o f two centuries, not much less than the British period, yet w ho can
say that India changed permanently because o f them? W hat effect have all
those dynasties bad w’hose coins and copperplates tantalize numismatists and
epigraphists with their hints and silences and whose chronologies tax the in
genuity o f historians? In the British case, however, we have, and in spite o f
their nearness in time to our obsers'ation, a yardstick for measurement. This is
tw'enty-five years o f independence, during which India has been free not only
politically but also mentally and morally to retain and discard as she will from
the British inheritance. W e are also able, with the help o f modern documenta
tion, to com pare the before and after o f the British impact. From a considera
tion o f these, two points emerge as certain facts. The first is that the India of
T947 was a very different place from the India o f 1757 or even o f 1818. I f this
is thought to be an expression o f the obvious, let the India o f 1526 (the year of
the com ing o f the Mughals) be compared with the India o f 1761 (the M ughal
collapse), or the India o f 1300, with the Delhi sultanate fully established, with
the India o f 1526. The second emergent fact is that a mentally free India has
chosen to retain a great deal o f the British inheritance. M uch o f the British
contribution has become the w orking capital o f the new India. T he admini
strative and judicial fram ework remains the same. In. the educational and in
dustrial fields there has been expansion, but not supersession. Culturally the
English language has been reprieved, now that there is no political opponent
The Mughals and the British 349
to be annoyed by abolishing it. Parliamentary institutions and notions o f de
mocracy seem to be firmly based. The argument about them has been not with
what to replace them, but how to m ake them work properly. M uch o f the
criticism o f the British in the past is ou the grounds o f un-British actions,
h'ehavioûr, or policies.
H aving accepted the British impact upon India as both real and lasting, we
come to the next question. H ow much o f the British action in India was in fact
a restoration or a ‘ follow -up’ from the wrecks o f the previous regime. Though
the British did not themselves overthrow the Mughals, but stepped, region by
region, into their empty political shoes, they found everywhere traces o f
Mughal rule and unquestionably made much use o f them in their reconstruc
tion. Here we have not only to consider the question o f administrative ‘ know
how ’ but also the spirit o f government. The M ughal legacy to India was in
fact a legacy also to the British in India. W e have therefore to assess the
Mughal share in the apparent British achievement before we can attempt to
assess that achievement in its own right.
. When Bàbur descended into northern India he found a country still recover
ing from T im or’s invasion o f 1398 and the collapse o f the Tughluq D ynasty o f
;the D elhi sultanate which followed it. F o r two centuries a series o f able
Turkish soldiers had ruled with such ability that they had been able both to
hold the formidable M ongols at bay and to extend their rule to south India.
They had devised.an effective administrative machine and made Delhi one o f
the great cities and cultural centres o f Asia. In the next 120 years this ordered
imperialism vanished. Hindustan was ruled by Afghan chiefs whose kingdoms
jyere tumultuous confederacies o f nobles rather than well-organized states.
Prosperity had departed to Bengal and the D eccan and the sultans o f Delhi
could barely hold their own against the râjâs o f Râjasthàn, whom once théy
had harried. T h e M ughals had thus very largely a free hand in reorganizing
the north, and the result o f this w ork was largely handed on to the Deccan
during the seventeenth and the south in the early eighteenth centuries.
The M ughals in general were a secular-minded race. In the late S ard ir
Panikkar’s happy phrase they were ‘ kings by profession’ , more interested in
ruling than in propagating religion. Bâbur set greater store on Samarqand
than on M ecca, on musk melons and drinking parties than on strict religious
observance. His descendants in general followed him. It is this aspect o f their
rule with which we are concerned.
The first contribution o f their rule may be described as the imperial idea.
There had o f course been previous empires in India, and Hindus retained the
idea o f an overlord emperor or chakravartin râjâ. But actual examples o f such
empires, like the Mauryan and the G upta, lay so far in the past that they had
ceased to exercise any practical influence. The ideal o f unity lived on, but its
actuality had ceased to be a memory. In their extension o f empire from north
to south India, an extension which, it is often forgotten, was still continuing
while their power was collapsing in the north, the M ughals were only reviving
or putting into practice a very ancient tradition. But their treatment o f the idea
o f imperial authority was original and lasting. Briefly they removed the person
and office o f the emperor from the religious to the secular plane and at the
same time surrounded it with a halo o f mystical and religious sanctity.
350 The Mughals and the British
The first step was the use o f Persian titles and ceremonies which in them
selves were neither Hindu nor Muslim. T he nattrnz ceremony, for example,
was simply the Persian rite m arking the solar new year in the spring. Persian
also was the ceremony o f weighing the emperor on his birthday against
sundry grains and precious metals. These things were in themselves mere
foreign im portations: it was A k b ar who added the element o f divinity that
doth hedge a king. His new or D ivine Faith is usually thought o f as the
eccentricity o f genius or a dismal political failure. In fact, while we m ay grant
the element o f whim or eccentricity, the whole episode was a calculated
political risk which in the long run became a brilliant success. A k b a r never
dreamt o f producing a new religion in whose favour both Hindu and Muslim
would abandon their own tenaciously held traditions. W hat he wanted was.to
find a way o f canalizing the immense reservoir o f Indian devotion to ward s.an
object distinct from the traditions o f both communities. His method, which
seemed fantastic both at the time and later, was to create a religious cull
centred round the emperor. W ith his death the cult disappeared, but reverence
for the imperial office remained. It secured, unlike the case o f the previous
M uslim dynasties, the succession and recognition o f M ughal emperors whçn
they had lost all imperial power. It was a potent factor, overlooked by the
British, in rallying anti-British sentiment before and during the revolt o f 1857.
One o f the symptoms was the use o f the halo fo r the imperial head b y Mughal
painters, which even the orthodox Aurangzeb allowed ; another the worship
or veneration o f the imperial person in the style o f the Hindu darshan ; another
the taking o f disciples or nturtds by the last emperors. The essence o f the idea
was that the emperor ruled, not only by divine permission, but with divine
approval. Hé therefore had assumed a semi-sacred character and required not
only obedience, but veneration as well. --■
A second M ughal gift to India was in the realm o f administration. The
M ughals as a race were not m arkedly original, but they had been ‘ charm ed’
by the Persian culture with which they had come into contact and o f which
they had proved apt pupils. T hey imported much o f the Persian administrative
apparatus into India and above all the idea o f ordered bureaucratic authority.
I f it could hardly be called the rule o f law it was certainly.the rule o f rule.
There were regulations (as the  ’în testifies) fo r everything, whether for the
emblems o f royalty and court ceremonial, the assessment and collection of
revenue, the payment o f troops, or the branding o f horses for the imperial
cavalry. M uch Persian term inology is in use today. Setting aside details, we
m ay note some m ajor contributions to India in this sphere. It is true that Sher
Shah the A fghan (1540-5) made a significant start in this direction, upon
whose foundations A k b ar later built. But as he only reigned for five years,
m ost o f which were spent campaigning, his measures as recorded by the
chroniclers must be regarded as a blueprint for the future rather than as. an
actual achievement. Outstanding in this department were the revenue
arrangements, which are associated with the nam e o f A k b a r’ s revenue
minister, Râjâ T od ar M ai. T heir essence was an assessment o f the revçniie
according to the extent o f cultivation, the nature o f the soil, and the quality
o f the crops. There whs laborious measurement, analysis o f possibilities, and
calculation o f prospects. T h e actual demand was adjusted to meet seasonal,
The Mughals and the British 351
price, aod cultivated area variations. The system was administered whole or
partially, well or ill, at different times and places. A t times it broke down alto
gether. But it Was never altogether abandoned or forgotten and it has never
been superseded by something quite novel. It is the underlying basis o f the
revenue system today.
In the political sphere the Mughals contributed the mansabdar system. This
was a graded set o f imperial officials who together form ed an imperial
military-cum-civil service. The higher grades were the ‘ om rah ’ described by
European travellers like Bernier. They owed the appointment to the em peror
arid were paid, at first in cash and then by means o f assignments on the re
venue or jagirs. These grants had no resemblance to feudal tenures, fo r they
were revocable at the imperial will and in any case lapsed a t death. T h e
mansabdari service was not hereditary and in fact lacked a pension or its
equivalent, since the mansabdâr’s property was im pounded at his death to off
set cash advances made by the treasury during his life. T his procedure
amounted to a death duty o f nearly 100 per cent. From this service were
appointed governors o f provinces (sttbahs), the high officers o f state from the
m zir downwards, administrators o f districts, commanders o f armies, cities,
and forts. T hey were in fact the arteries o f the M ughal system, the pulsating
blood from the M ughal heart at court. They were the effective agents o f the
M ughal will. The titles and grades survived as aristocratic distinctions, like
European titles o f nobility, in the N izam ’s dominions until they were ab
sorbed by India in 1948, but the system collapsed with the empire itself in the
eighteenth century. Nevertheless the system as a whole perm anently in
fluenced the Indian consciousness. During the two centuries o f its effective
existence it accustom ed nearly the w hole country to the idea o f an im perial
bureaucracy representing and enforcing the central governm ent’s will. It re
placed in the Indian mind as the sym bol o f government the feudal and clan
relationships o f the Râjputs and the loose tribal links o f the Afghans. Though
the extent o f .government m ay seem slight in m odern terms, there was in fact
during this period and thanks to this system m ore regular administration than
most o f India had known for a thousand years. In this respect the system p ro
vided a foundation upon which the British could build far m ore easily than
w ould otherwise have been the case, because India had been conditioned
already to a form o f bureaucracy.
:S The mansabdari system had another characteristic which was im portant fo r
the future. Its personnel was mainly foreign. A n analysis o f the lists given in
,the  'in i-Akbari shows that approximately 70 per cent o f the officers, had
cpme to India from the north-west within fifty years; the remaining 30 per
cent were Indian, roughly h a lf o f these being M uslim and h a lf H indu.1 The
service continued to be heavily recruited from abroad through the seyenteenth
century. India thus became used, not only to a regular administration, but
also to a foreign one. Previous governments in north India'had either been
irregular or not foreign. This trait also was o f value to their British successors.
Indians were accustomed to rule by foreigners; the charige for them was from
one kind o f foreigner to a stranger one.
A further feature o f M ughal rule in general, remarked on by most non-
1 W. H . Moreland, India at the Death o f Akbar , London, 1920, pp. 69-70.
352 The Mugliali and the British
In fact the Mughals went a long way towards grafting upon Indian society
a new aristocratic Indo-Persian culture. Under their aegis Persian and local
influences combined to produce new forms o f art and literature, new canons
o f behaviour, and a new type o f speech. M ughal architecture and painting,
though compounded o f Persian and Hindu elements, were fused into some
thing distinct from either. The same was true o f language. U rdu was born
under the sultanate, but it was the Mughals under whom it developed as a
literary language in its own right and Muhammad Shâh Rangila who ad
mitted it to Court. In manners the Delhi Court became the Versailles ofln d ia.
A k b ar’ s religion, followed by the exaltation o f the person o f the emperor, pro
vided an emotional centre for aristocratic loyalty, and the imperial services,
with their large employment o f Hindus outside the mansabdâr ranks, an ad
ministrative cement. The effort to create a new culture proved ‘ abortive’ in
the Toynbeian sense, perhaps because it was too confined to the aristocracy or
perhaps because the middle class, which should have mediated it to the masses,
was too-small. But it left indelible marks on India in the developed Urdu
language, in the arts o f architecture and painting, and in manners and tastes.
W e can now consider briefly how much o f what is associated with the British
period is really a carry-over or restoration o f M ughal influences and institu
tions. A glance at the foregoing is enough to show that the British were by no
means so original in many o f their contributions to India as one has been
tempted to think. The British achievement must be judged in conjunction with
that o f its M ughal predecessor, as the 'Mughals themselves must not be
credited with what they took over from theirpast. In surveying the two periods
together we can trace three processes. There is an element o f restoration by
one o f the work o f the other; there is a clothing in new forms o f tendencies
carried over from the past ; and there is, alohg with a similarity o f policy, an
introduction o f new content. Even restoration can be quietly revolutionary
and revolution can be a violent form o f restoration. It is the interaction of
these processes which has produced the authentic British contribution. Thus
while the introduction o f dem ocracy in France at the Revolution was new, it
did not alter the centralizing and authoritarian tendencies o f the old monarchy,
while the Restoration o f 1815, like the English Restoration o f 1660, was itself
in large measure a recognition o f revolution.
The concept o f the emperorship as a semi-sacred office apart from the old
religions was a M ughal innovation. A t first the British spurned this. One could
hardly imagine a less sacred institution than the East India Com pany, or a less
mystical person than the governor-general. This common-sense attitude
strengthened with success until it received a rude shock when the M utiny re
vealed the depth o f sentiment still surrounding the M ughal pâdshàh and
M arâthâ Peshwâ. The assumption o f government by the Crow n and the per
sonal attitude taken by Queen Victoria towards India were in fact leaves taken
out o f the M ughal book. T h e m ove was abundantly rewarded, so that it can
be safely said that in the last years o f her reign the Queen was m ore venerated
in India than in Britain. T h e religious aura surrounding the great M ughals re
attached itself to her. T h e assumption o f the imperial title in 1876 was a
corollary o f the move o f 1858, not in itself anything new. In idea it was a good
The Mughals and the British 355
move as appealing to the mass imagination, but this effect was largely offset
by its constant use in adorning imperialist speeches. India liked being the
brightest jew el, but why o f someone else’s crow n?
There is a close relationship between the British and the M ughal revenue
arrangements. From Bengal to Gujarât, as the British spread over the country,
they found either Todar M ai’s bandobast in decline, or beheld its relics in the
form o f custom or what was done ‘ before the troubles’ . A fter the early years
o f confusion and over-assessment, they felt their w ay towards a knowledge o f
the unique Indian revenue system and became m ore and more impressed w ith
the range and thoroughness o f the previous regime. T he British in effect be
came pupils at'the M ughal school and it was on this basis that they made their
lasting contribution to the administration o f rural India. T hey took over the
Mughal system o f exact measurement o f the land, o f distinguishing soils and
crops in estimating production, and o f using various kinds o f agents in collec
tion. A t first they were less flexible than the M ughals in such matters as re
missions on account o f floods and famine and in dealing with defaulters, with
much resulting hardship. T he harsh dealings at the time o f the Bengal fam ine
o f 17703 and the over-assessment in the early days o f the D elhi Territory are
examples. W ith experience they improved. Their assessments became m ore
accurate and scientific, their revenue demand m ore lenient as well as more pre
dictable than that o f their predecessors. On the whole their achievement was
notable, for they built up a rural administration not only stable but generally
equable and equitable. There were, however, two significant departures from
Mughal practice. One was the action o f Cornwallis, Pitt, and D undas in
creating the Permanent Settlement o f Bengal in 1793 (which extended to
Bihâr, Orissa, and parts o f the M adras Presidency). This converted the zamin-
ddrs into something like English landlords and their peasants virtually into
tenants-at-will, giving them the unearned increment o f land which was then
far from completely cultivated. Zamindârihad long been recognized as a form
o f property; it was the British who turned it into landed property.4 The con
sequence was the creation o f a landed class which as a whole was loyal but not
progressive, tenacious but not enterprising. This w ork was already being un
done when the British left India. The other departure was the system o f selling
up defaulters in the land revenue, instead o f bullying them as the M ughal
officials did and then leaving them in possession. This produced a displace
ment o f classes, tending to replace old rural families by absentee city-dwellèrs,
more interested in rents than tenants.
The M ughal mansabdari system as an effective executive service was in
collapse before the British began to rule. It cannot seriously be maintained
that the British restored it or borrowed from it. But it is significant that they
found that they could not do without an equivalent. Their administration did
not settle down until they had organized a service recruited with some eye to
ability, trained to some extent for the duties it had to perform , inculcated with
a high sense o f duty, and disciplined both financially and m orally. It is
1 See \V. \V. Hunter, Annals o f Rural Bengal, London, 1897, p. 39. Thirty-five per cent o f
the peasantry died. Less than 5 per cent of the revenue was remitted in 1769/70: it was in
creased by 10 per cent in 1770/1.
4 See Irfan Habib, The Agrarian System o f Mughal India, London, 1962, Ch. V.
356 The Mughals and the British
interesting to note that the C om pany’s officials were paid for a time (till 1787)
by means o f percentages on the revenue, a method com parable to the later
M ughal practice o f assignments on the land revenue. It was Cornwallis who
returned to A k b a r’s practice o f fixed salaries as well as cash payments. A n
other point in comm on was the foreignness o f the two services. F rom this
point o f view the British were not as bad as they have been painted, fo r they
were only exaggerating a standing M ughal practice. T he indictment, if any, is
that they failed to do better. From this point the comparison fades.
The British had two separate services, the civil and military, as com pared to
tbe undivided M ughal one, and the civil had several sub-sections. T he foreign
ascendancy was progressively reduced until even the highest o f the services,
the Indian Civil Service, was half-Indian. Here indeed was a contribution o f
value to contem porary India. T h e services were handed over intact to the new
administration as going concerns. T hey were loyal to authority and to each
other. They were highly capable, they possessed a high morale, they were aloof
from politics, and they possessed a degree o f self-reliance and readiness to act
in emergencies which was unusual in such bodies. Though shorn o f their
European cadres the services possessed enough Indian members w ho had
been sufficiently integrated to shoulder the burden o f independent administra
tion. They not only did this but successfully met grave crises as well. T he de
velopment o f modern India could not have proceeded as it has w ithout them.
This legacy was not particularly original, since others had organized imperial
services before. But it was a genuine legacy in a familiar field, since the British
were responsible fo r the form , the tone, and the quality o f the bodies they
handed over.5
A further M ughal bequest to the British was official ostentation, arrogance,
and greed. These epithets were freely applied by ambassadors, travellers, and
merchants to the ‘ orarahs’ in the M ughal heyday and to nawâbs in general in
the eighteenth century. It was not inadvisedly that the merchant officials who
returned from C live’s Bengal and Benfield’s M adras with fortunes were called
‘ N a b o b s’ in England. W hatever degree o f envy may have entered into the
jibes, the traits which called them forth were clear enough. There is no doubt
that the arrogance o f the British officials, and its long continuance, owed
much to the M ughal example. This was the climate o f authority as the British
found it; not unnaturally they enjoyed and continued it. This fact Should
temper the criticism o f British official arrogance as though it was a wholly
new evil imposed on a hitherto unafllicted people. T he early C om pany’s
officials, or m any o f them, undoubtedly shared in the M ughal ostentation and
greed. But neither lasted long, the one swept aw ay by the economies o f a
utilitarian age and the other by the reforms o f Cornw allis and his successors.
The m ost corrupt and colourful o f services became in the nineteenth century
the m ost dutiful and sedate; our only regret must be that in shedding their
colour the services also lost som e degree o f imagination.
The M ughal policy o f tolerance was extended and amplified by the British.
But while it was more complete it was also more frigid, fo r the M ughals, while
occasionally demolishing temples,, would also endow others, give grants to
5 For the best account o f the Indian Civil Service as a living body see P. W oodruff’s two
volumes The Founders, London, 1953, and The Guardians, London, 1954.
The Mughals and Ihe British 357
Hindu as well as Muslim divines, and patronize Hindu festivals. The religious
neutrality o f the government, as pressured by Christian groups in Britain, for
bade all this and left the people with a feeling o f aloofness and disdain. On
occasion indifference can be m ore w ounding than hostility. T h e tradition o f
aloofness from religion as a complement to the policy o f toleration is not one
calculated to endear the idea o f the secular state to the average Indian heart.
When we turn to the M ughal cultural heritage, we com e to a parting o f the
ways with the British. Influence there was, but it was peripheral and fleeting.
The British remained faithful to their own style o f building, limiting their
M ughal loans to the ornate marble bathroom with sunken bath (up-country)
and to Bengali style annexes for the 'ze n a n a ’. T hey patronized the miniature
painters to some extent and used them widely for studies o f buildings,, plants,
and animals; they were even influenced in their ow n painting by Indian tech
niques. But this died aw ay as European contacts increased and photography
came in. The taste for Persian literature did not survive the generations o f
Warren Hastings, M etcalfe, and Elphinstone. T he flood o f books from the
W est overwhelmed it, and Orientalism retired to the studies o f western
Europe. M ughal manners never challenged the London version o f Versailles,
nor did their dress m ake an appreciable impact. T h e use o f pyjamas can 'per
haps be ascribed to them, but otherwise Oriental fashions in dress came from
Persia. The British needed no tutoring in wine or spirits; the taste for outdoor
sport was mutual, the fashion o f hookah smoking had died aw ay by the mid
nineteenth century. Their ch ief loans were the gam e o f polo and the custom o f
bathing.
It is now possible to consider the rest o f the British contribution in its own
right, as it were. The observer w ho visits India today will still find m any
visible traces o f the British. Houses, public buildings, and memorials strew the
land. B ut he w ill not see much o f these for long. T he houses were mostly
brick-built and are subject to decay and change; m ost o f the public buildings
are quite undistinguished. Few o f the more pretentious possess much merit
and some o f those that possess it are copies from England, like Barrackpore
H ouse in Calcutta. The British brought with them the classical vogue o f
eighteenth-century England which produced a number o f graceful churches
and houses in Calcutta and elsewhere. Thereafter G othic cam e in, with its
memorials in the Calcutta and L âhore cathedrals and ‘ P .\Y .D .’ churches.
T h e G othic fashion extended to bungalows, but though there was some grace
ful imitation o f the classic style, the G othic never too k root in India. Then
came Lord Curzon, w ho intended a British Tâj M ahal and achieved the
Calcutta Victoria M em orial. In its ostentation, its obtuseness, and its solidity
it was not an unfitting sym bol o f the current imperialism. The final British
effort was N ew D elhi, where Lutyens and Baker disagreed in producing
something o f high merit and sym bolic beyond their intentions. F or the central
complex as it now stands is an epitome, not Of imperial power, but o f bureau
cracy. A rocky eminence, approached b y a processional way, is crowned by
two secretariat blocks, with the legislature dropped on one side as an apparent
afterthought (as indeed it was), and the central feature o f the President’s (ex
Viceroy’s) house pushed (unintentionally) too far back to be dominant. ‘ W hat
a noble ruin it will b e ’, exclaimed M . Clemenceau; as it stands it is the
358 The Mughals and the British
being petitioned as o f grace or mercy, was something quite new. If (he govern
ment itself could be sued with impunity, why not the big man o f the district,
the zamindâr, the princeling, the wealthy entrepreneur? The whole legal pro
cess did much to implant the idea o f individual civil rights in the popular
mind. A further aid in this process was the separation o f thejudicial and execu
tive services. This was introduced by Cornwallis but modified later and
abandoned in the north-west. Indians never ceased to argue in its favour and
restored it with independence.
A further British contribution was the introduction o f the idea that the
positive prom otion o f public welfare was a normal duty o f government.
Classical Hindu and Muslim ideas o f government made for non-interference.
Society for both was a socio-religious organism which it was the governm ent’s
function to protect so as to ensure its smooth working. It was not to mould
or to create but to preserve. In Hindu thought for example, the dharma o f the
râjâ was to protect the Hindu way o f life. In M ughal times it was thought that
Shâh Jahân had come nearest to this general ideal. ’ H ail O K in g ’, said the
rhapsodist, ‘ Thou owest a thanksgiving to G od. The K in g is just. The ministers
are able and the secretaries honest. The country, is prosperous and the people
contented.’ 7 The Chinese attitude was similar in implication though secular in
tone. Society was an organism best left to itself. The better the government the
less government there would be.
T h e early C om pany’s officials took over this view and maintained it into
the nineteenth century. But pressures, religious, rational, and utilitarian,
m ounted in Britain which led the Tory Ellenborough to write in 1828 to the
G overnor-General Lord W illiam Bentinck: ‘ W e have a great m oral duty to
perform .’ The India debates o f Hastings’s time and the eloquence o f Burke
had enforced the principle o f responsibility o f the government for good ad
ministration. W ith Bentinck the further step was taken o f positive promotion
o f public welfare. T he first steps in this direction were the negative ones o f the
prohibition o f salt (suttee), the suppression o f thuggee, and the discourage
ment o f infanticide. But they were followed by the new education policy, the
introduction o f English, irrigation projects and the building o f roads and rail
ways, and health measures. Self-interest m ay have entered into some o f these
measures, and in many respects it m ay be held that they did not go nearly far.
enough. Nevertheless the principle was there, a principle which nationalists
often used as a rod with which to beat the foreign government and cheerfully
accepted afterwards. W as it not in the name o f this principle that Gandhi
launched his attack on the salt tax? W ith N ehru the new government accepted
in principle, and to some extent realized in practice, the idea o f a welfare state.
Th e principle o f welfare can take many forms. One o f these in the British
case was the development o f self-government. For this in itself no originality
can be claimed, for it is not to be supposed that Indians in general have in the
political sphere desired anything else through the centuries o f foreign domina
tion. But representative and parliamentary governm ent was something new,
and it is this which the British, in the later stages o f their rule, introduced into
the country and which has taken root. T h e British rulers in India were them
selves inclined to the M ughal idea o f the state; these innovations were almost
7 lbni-Hasan, Central Structure o f the Mughal Empire, London, 1936, p. 360.
The Mugliali and the British
entirely due to pressure from outside. The first ideas o f the ultimate indepen
dence o f a modernized India appeared in the 1820s and 1830s with men like
M ountstuart Elphinstone and M acaulay, but little was done to implement
them for another eighty years. Representation o f Indian opinion was intro
duced in a tentative way, to reach its logical development with the M o rley-
M into reforms in 1909. T he advent o f responsible self-government on the
parliamentary model was a twentieth-century development, beginning as late
as 1921 with the inauguration o f the M ontagu-Chelm sford reforms. Neverthe
less it immediately took root; this type o f government became a fixed Indian
demand and has been sedulously maintained since independence. But this is
not surprising, because the various acts were themselves tardy responses to
long-expressed Indian demands, in their turn the result o f absorption o f
British political ideas by the Westernized classes. Parliamentary government
as government by discussion and majority vote in representative assemblies
seems now to be firmly rooted in the modern Indian mind. A n estimate o f the
effectiveness o f the system in practice was blurred for a time by the towering
personality o f Nehru. But there seems to be a general conviction that the
parliamentary is the only respectable form o f democracy, as democracy is
the only respectable form o f government. The Indian innovations on these
lines, such as universal suffrage, the revival o f panchâyats, and the ending o f
autocratic princely rule, are only extensions o f existing British practice and
principles.
A lon g with parliamentary government we must link nationalism. This is
perhaps one o f the most remarkable examples o f the British impact, for the
British neither designed, nor form ally introduced, nor advocated it. N ation
alism was ‘ caught’ by the new Indian intellectuals, especially in Bengal, by
the join t effect o f observing the habits o f the British and studying their liter
ature. M other India, a new secular goddess, was created. The feeling was
recruited on the intellectual plane by the study o f Continental as well as
English writers, especially M azzini, and on the emotional by its linkage with
religion. T o M ahatm a G andhi belongs the credit o f bringing it to the people
at large, and presenting it 2s a religious but not a sectarian cult. Indian
nationalism has a distinctive ethos o f its own, but it is a fact o f the present day
and it owes its existence to the British impact.
The concept o f welfare has many forms. In the 1830s it included the educa
tion and language policy o f the Indian Government. Briefly, English was sub
stituted for Persian as the language o f government and the higher courts, the
local languages being used in the lower. English also became the medium o f
instruction in the higher government educational institutions, and the content
o f learning included contem porary Western knowledge. Western science and
history therefore came into the curriculum, and the whole range o f Western
ideas and attitudes was conveyed through English and European literature.
Adm ittedly the motivation o f the policy was mixed, as was that o f the Indian
attitude towards it. But, if a supply o f English-knowing subordinates was one
motive on the British side, so also was the desire to throw open Western in
tellectual treasures to the East. W hile on the Indian side many learnt English
as a passport to a career, there was an active group led by the reformer Râm
M ohan R oy which desired the spread o f Western knowledge for its own sake.
362 The Mughals and the British
The fact was that the decisions o f 1835 gave governmental sanction and im
petus to a process by which the culture and knowledge o f the W est were pre
sented to India. The positive means were the government’s educational
institutions, reinforced by missionary educational and other activity and by
the personal attitudes o f the British officials and others scattered all over the
country. There was no com pulsion; no one was compelled to become
Christian, profess utilitarianism, wear English clothes, or play cricket.
Western thought and attitudes were placed side by side with Indian in an ever-
widening circle o f Indian minds. The significant fact is that those minds were
influenced by this process to an increasing degree. An index o f this fact is that
whereas before the M utiny nearly all the new educational institutions were
governmental or missionary, in the twenty years from 1873 to 1893 the num
ber o f colleges, in spite o f a reduction in government support, increased nearly
threefold from 55 to 156.8 '
In this process the British were not merely acting for themselves; they were
the agents for the whole process o f the expansion o f Westèrn culture into the
East, brokers, more or less honest, managing agents, more or less efficient.
T he failure to recognize this distinction has been the cause o f much mis
understanding. W hile to the British bridges and railways and m odern techno
logy were all part o f the ‘ manifold blessings o f British ru le’, to Indians they
seemed to be things which had to come anyhow. I f anything, the British were
to blame fo r not bringing them sooner or in larger quantity. In view o f the
rapid shrinkage o f the world it must be accepted that India would have been
largely Westernized anyhow ; the exact nature o f such a process is now-,a
profitless speculation. N one the less, the British in fact deliberately started the
process with their policy decisions o f the 1830s.. India is the richer today be
cause that decision,- though sometimes tardily implemented, was taken as long
ago as 1835, the date o f Bentinck’s language decisions, instead of, as in the
case o f Indonesia, not until the twentieth century was well advanced.
T h e role o f the British as agents covers much o f the British m aterial achieve
ments and also much ideological merchandise. In the form er realm the
British were the agents for the developing science o f the W est with its in
ductive logic and experimental methods. The first visible sign o f this importa
tion was the Calcutta M edical College established by Bentinck, where dedic
ated Hindu students broke caste in the name o f the new knowledge and the
new methods. These new principles came in their theoretical form through the
colleges and in their concrete form at first through engineering and then
through the new industrialism. The growth o f the mechanized cotton industry
in the later nineteenth century was sym bolic o f practical India’s acceptance o f
Western techniques, as the growth o f private arts colleges was sym bolic o f
Indian acceptance o f Western ideas. The word acceptance should not be in
terpreted as wholesale adoption to the exclusion o f Indian ideas. It would be
more accurate to say that these things were entertained alongside their Indian
counterparts. T h e critical process o f assimilation had still to come, but it was
recognized that these things had come to stay in the country and in future had
to be reckoned with as part o f its heritage.
On the ideological .side must be placed the whole range o f ideas and values
* B. B. Misra, The initiait Mithtte Classes, London, 1961, p. 283.-
The Mughals and (he British 363
which come from (he West. Officials, non-officials, and missionaries carried
them in very varied forms, but these forms were all expressions o f funda
mental concepts rooted in the West as a whole. N one o f these things were
really new to India viewed in her totality; they were new to contem porary
India becausè they had been overlaid by custom through long stretches o f
Indian history. Intellectually the concept o f the critical reason, more particul
arly a product o f the Enlightenment, was introduced under the cloak o f
criticism o f Indian customs, institutions, and ideas. T he cry o f ‘ superstition’
and 'abom ination o f heathenism’ were Anglicized versions o f V oltaire’s
‘ écrasez l ’infâm e’ and further back o f Greek scepticism. W hen these things
roused echoes in Indian minds it was the European tradition as a whole
rather than the British in particular they were recording.
From the same basis o f European values came the emphasis on universal
human rights and duties, on the rights o f the individual as a person, and his
responsibility for and to society as a whole. These things came in the British
forms o f evangelical and radical humanism, o f the radical rights o f man, and
o f W hig contractual civil rights. But they had their root m ore im m ediately in
French thought and more ultimately in the whole classical Christian tradition.
T o this source must be ascribed social criticism o f such things as sali, infanti
cide, Hindu widowhood, caste, and popular religious cults. E qually from the
same source must be derived the positive aspect o f these ideas, the equality o f
all not only before G od but also before the law, the personality and citizen
ship o f women as well as men, the principles o f dem ocracy. T h e part o f the
British in introducing these things was very great. But in this respect they are
to be judged, not so much by the things they sponsored, as by the fidelity o f
the sponsorship. A s in the material sphere, w e cannot say that these things
would not have come without them ; we can only say that they would have
come at a different time and in a different way.
There remains the question o f an Indo-British» culture analogous to the
Indo-Persian culture o f the M ughals. W ill the European intrusion prove no
more than a smile on the face o f the elusive goddess M âyâ? T h e M acaulayes-
que dream o f brown Englishmen m ingling the waters o f the Tham es with the
Ganges has long since faded. But authorities like the late G . T . G arratt and
G uy Wint have thought that they discerned signs of. a hybrid culture m ore
serious than the social curiosities recorded by K ipling. In so far as it existed, it
was confined to a much smaller Indian circle than in the case o f the M ughal
‘ nearly but not quite’ Indo-Persian culture. The mixing o f the races in the
British case was far less free and less continuous. Y o u cannot develop a hybrid
culture on board ship or in the intervals between leave in Europe and retire-
mént. T h e real impact o f the West on India has been the steady percolation o f
Western ideas and values into Indian minds by all kinds o f agencies and at all
levels. This has produced a ferment in the corporate Indian mind itself. T h e
symptoms first appeared with Ram M ohan R o y ’s activities o f nearly a
century and a h alf ago. They have since appeared in religious, social, political,
and intellectual movements. But they do not add up to a new Indo-European
culture. Rather these forces are working within the mind o f Hinduism to
* This term is used in preference to the old term Anglo-Indian, which now has a different
and defined connotation.
364 The Mughals and the British
IN TR O D U CTIO N
V i e w i n g the millennia o f Indian history, one can hardly think o f a greater
contrast than the one that exists between eighteenth-century and twentieth-
century India. On the one hand we have a stagnating traditional culture and
society at very low ebb, in fact in a state o f decadence not witnessed before, a
decadence condemned by most modern Indians from R âm M ohan R o y on
wards. On the other hand we have a still traditional society in the throes and
the creative excitement o f modernizing itself, o f emerging as a new nation, re
maining thoroughly its own and rooted in its culture, yet taking its place in
the contemporary world. The nineteenth century was the pivotal century that
saw the initiation o f this process, that brought about an enormous transforma
tion in the religious, social, econom ic, political, and cultural spheres.
H ow did this transformation come abou t? M any interrelated factors were
involved. First we have the total impact o f the British. Raj. It influenced
Indian life through many channels: administration, legislation, trade, the
creation o f a network o f communications, inchoative industrialization and
urbanization, all had great influence not only on the m any Indians w ho be
came directly involved in them, but also on society as a whole, because every
measure in some way interfered with some traditional patterns o f life. In the
cultural field too the British exerted pressure through the w ork o f scholars,
educators, and missionaries, orientalist, utilitarian, or evangelical. The sum
total o f this influence acted on the life and ideas o f the people in multiple
ways, forcing them to adjust their patterns o f life to the new circumstances
and thus effecting a continuum o f social change.
Standing out as landmarks in this gradual adaptation to new conditions are
the reformers. These are the Indians w ho consciously reacted to the new
situation and advocated deliberate changes in social and religious attitudes
and customs, involving a break with tradition itself. They saw change not as a
.'slow adaptive process, but as a positive value in itself, and contrasted it with
the negativity o f existing patterns. A s a group they had a great im pact on
nineteenth-century India, though they were not by far the only factor in
effecting change.
Social and religious reformers were, naturally, not a new phenomenon in
H induism ; in fact in some ways the very nature o f Hinduism is to be con
tinuously adaptive and reformist. Y e t the nineteenth-century reform m ove
ment was in general distinguished from previous Hindu reform by a cluster o f
new characteristics. It became closely wedded to a political movement, and
•consequently sought to influence political authority, administration, and
366 Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India
In the first decades o f the nineteenth century, India had already produced a
small new social group, the English-educated intelligentsia, m ostly closely
associated with British administration or British trade. It was amongst these
people that several ideas o f reform first arose. They were primarily trying to
deal with a personal problem that affected their own lives very deeply: con
stant contact with Britishers and European ideas made them lo o k upon some
social and religious characteristics o f their own society with horror and dis
gust. Social reform in this first stage was mostly prompted by the desire o f
these people to cope with the difficulties which they expérienced,themselves
and which were experienced too by others, belonging to their European-
influenced group. Thete was not as yet any concern.for the mass o f the people,
or any desire to transform the structure o f society at large! W hat they wanted
was to reshape their lives according to the new standards and values they were
discovering. T hey sotight to clarify their own ideas, and propagate them
am ong their kindred intelligentsia. Thus this first stage was a time o f pro
paganda rather than o f organization, a time when the reformer was almost
exclusively concerned with his own group, a time also when political concern
was inchoative and when it was generally held that personal social reform
needed to be based upon the solid foundation o f religious reform.
Bengal
Bengal was first to undergo significant British'influence and to produce the
new English-educated group. By the early 1800s we notice already a crystal
Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India 367
lization o f different reactions to Western influence, and there emerge three
distinct groups, the radicals,. the reformers, and the conservatives. R âm
M ohan R oy (1772-1833) was the first great m odern reformer, and has for
good reason been called ‘ T he Father o f M odern In d ia’ . In his youth he
studied Persian and A rabic, as well as classical Sanskrit texts. H is w ork for the
E ast India Com pany and his commercial success allowed him at the age o f
forty-tw o to retire from business and settle in Calcutta in com fortable cir
cumstances. The twenty years left o f his life were o f param ount im portance to
Bengal and the rest o f India. His studies o f Islam and Hinduism and his deep
acquaintance w ith the thought o f the W est equipped him m ore than any o f his
contemporaries for the role o f social and religious reformer that he was to
play.
In the religious sphere R âm M ohan ’s main target o f attack was the Hindu
system o f idolatry, its m ythology and.cult. H e proposed as an alternative a
deistic type o f theism, strongly influenced by European deism and the ideology
o f the Unitarians with whom he had close links. His remote, transcendent G od
was to be praised and adored from a distance w ithout the quest fo r interces
sion or mystical union. His study o f other religions convinced him that below
their dogmas, rituals, and superstitions there lay hidden a com m on core o f
rational reh'gion and humanitarian ethics. T hat is w hy he could write a eulogy
o f Christian m orality in his Precepts o f Jesus and yet attack ChristianJheology
and engage for several years in controversy with the missionaries. He claimed
that his reformed Hinduism was to be found in the ancient Upanishads, some
o f which he translated, and in the Vedanta. In fact his very schem atic religious
creed has, apart from the name o f Brahm a, practically no specifically Hindu
content.
A s a social reformer, R âm M ohan’ s interest was mainly in the appalling
condition o f women in Hindu society, an interest that was to dom inate the
social reform movement for m any decades. He is rightly fam ous for his long
and successful campaign for the abolition o f sati, the. self-im m olation o f
widows on the funeral pyres o f their husbands, and he fought incessantly
against child marriage and for female education. .
Râm M ohan’s method was primarily propaganda, leading on to agitation.
His propaganda was carried out by streams o f tracts from his pen, all related
to his reforming ideas. This was reinforced by journalism : he was a pioneer in
the birth o f the vernacular press, m ainly through his Bengàl! and Persian
weeklies. He also strongly prom oted English-type education as the main in
strument for reform. Râm M ohan’s propaganda led on to agitation proper, in
order to marshal public opinion by meetings and petitions and thus to in
fluence the government. H e was the first to agitate, organize, and succeed. A s
.time went on R âm M ohan realized m ore and more that political agitation had
to be used to influence the government, and the last years o f his life spent in
^England were mainly directed to this work, again settihg a trend for the de-
■cades to come. ,The crowning achievement o f R âm M bhan’s organizational
.efforts was the foundation o f the Brâhm o Sabhâ (later know n as Bràhm o
Sam âj)in 1828. This was a religious body ‘ to teach and to practise the worship
o f the one G o d ’. It had a temple o f its own, where congregational worship
;took place, free from idolatry and superstition, modelled mostly-on U nitarian
368 Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India
worship. D uring Rani M ohan’s lifetime and for a decade afterwards it was but
a small body o f men gathering regularly for religious services, but later under
new leaders it became o f much greater significance. __
Râm M ohan never broke with Hinduism, and in his public life he was care
ful not to offend the orthodox: he felt reform had to be carried out from within
the Hindu community. T his view was repudiated by the young radicals o f the
time, led by the brilliant Eurasian teacher Henry D erozio (1809-31), whose
movement came to be known as ‘ Y o u n g B engal’. Their religion was rational
ism, and they bitterly attacked orthodoxy in all its aspects. N ot only was their
talk revolutionary, but their actions often matched their convictions: some
threw away their sacred thread, ate beef, and openly flaunted their contempt
for Hinduism, and for ‘ half-liberals’ like Râm M ohan. O rthodox society was
up in arms and acted sw iftly to dismiss D erozio from Hindu College and put
pressure on the other young men. It was a massive campaign in which many
suffered severely even from their families. D erozio’s premature death in 1831
weakened Y o u n g Bengal, and by the 1840s it was dead as a movement: the
youth o f its members, their lack o f clear ideology and leadership, their isola
tion from real society, were handicaps too great to allow them to survive as a
group the onslaught o f the orthodox. But many individuals o f this group,
matured by age, trained in the hard school o f rational thought and fired with
burning nationalism, became outstanding figures in governm ent posts and in
the hectic political and cultural life o f Bengal.
The orthodox formed the extreme right in the Bengali society o f the time.
U nder the able leadership o f Ràdhàkânta D eb (1794-1876), they were the de
fenders o f the'socio-reiigious status quo against both reformers and radicals,
and they formed in 1830 the Dharm a Sabhâ. This was the m ost wealthy o f the
H indu parties, and the largest in numbers. Through its newspaper it fought
the reformers every inch o f the way for the protection o f orthodoxy. Y e t the
orthodox party in fact contributéd considerably to the reform movement by
its very active role in prom oting English education, even am ong girls.
A fter Râm M ohan R o y’s death the Brâhmo Samàj was in the doldrums for
a decade, and then Debendranâth Tâgore (1817-1905) took over its leadership
and gave it a new direction. He changed the Samàj from a loose society into
an organization with members form ally initiated by a ceremony. He drew up
a declaration o f faith, established a theological school, sent out the first
B râhm o missionaries, and created a new liturgy, the ‘ Brahma R ites’ . He him
se lf was inclined towards the contemplative and the bhakti aspect o f Hindu
ism, and averse to Râm M ohan ’s rationalism. W ith a stress on devotion,
ethical duties, and the near-Yedic but non-idolatrous Brahma rites, the Samâj
m oved closer to the mainstream o f Hinduism, as it grew quickly in numbers.
Its m ain preoccupation was with religious not social reform, arid it avoided
offending orthodoxy too much.
B ut w ith Keshub Chandra Sen (1838-84) a new wind started to blow in the
Samàj. Soon after his accession to the Society, Debendranâth elevated him to
leadership next to himself. Keshub was an impatient iconoclastic reformer, re
pudiating all Hindu cult, rejecting caste and the seclusion o f women. In reli
gion he had a new ‘ universalisée’ tendency, with strong leanings towards
Christianity, Soon the Sam âj split in tw o; on the one hand Debendranâth and
Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India 369
the older members, cautious -in reform, Hindu in religion, formed the Adi
Bràhmo Sam âj; on the other K eshub and his young men, impatient and cos
mopolitan, established the new Brâhm o Samâj o f India. Sen’s Samâj was the
most popular. Universalism was stressed by the introduction o f selected texts
from the great religions, and on the other hand the connection with Hinduism
and with Bengal was strengthened by the adoption o f modes o f worship
characteristic o f the followers o f Chaitanya, siich as the public devotionalism
o f the samkirtan. In the social sphere too K eshub forged ahead, and in 1871,
after visiting England, he founded the Indian Reform Association, which
organized female education, workers’ education, charity, and temperance
bodies. Keshub achieved a great success in the passing o f the M arriage A ct
(1872) which legalized Brâhm o marriages. This, however, was perhaps the
main factor in effectively separating the Bràhraos from the Hindu com m unity,
thus impeding greatly their effectiveness as a leaven o f society.
The year 1872 constituted the peak o f K eshub’s career and influence: at
that time he was no doubt the most vigorous, inspiring, and admired religious
and social reformer in India. It was perhaps the influence o f Râinakrishna that
now made Keshub become increasingly obsessed with his own religious de
velopment. He saw him self more and more as a new prophet, a new Christ, a
new Chaitanya. He introduced new eclectic Hindu rites involving lights and
fire and M other-worship, while at the same time he was more and more
attracted to. Christianity. A ll this mystic preoccupation drew him aw ay from
social reform. When in 1878 be allowed his thirteen-year-old daughter to
marry a prince with Hindu rites, it was the occasion for the m ajority o f
Brâhmos to break away, form ing the Sâdhâran Bràhmo Samâj. Keshub now
formed the Church o f the N ew Dispensation, intended to unite all creeds. It
was a strange syncretism o f beliefs and cults, with as its centre K eshub, the
new Christ. Soon after K eshub’s death it broke up into insignificant parties.
O f the three Samâjes it was the Sâdhâran which persisted and remained a
force for reform in Bengal. Keshub somehow made it impossible for this first
socio-religious reform movement in India really to become an all-India affair,
and, despite his popularity, the movement proved to have no lasting effect on
the masses. On the other hand, Keshub at his best did augur the next stage o f
the movement in his vision o f an all-India reform and one that concerned the
masses.
During this time Bengal also produced the scholar Isvarachandra
Vidyâsâgar (1820-91) who took up the widow remarriage movement, the first
social reform cause that was taken up all over the country, and who saw it to
a successful conclusion. Scholar and principal o f Sanskrit College, he is
venerated as the ‘ father o f the Bengali prose style’ . The reform he advocated
and saw become law, namely that a high-caste widow could legally remarry,
affected few individuals and in fact was taken advantage o f by very few for
many years to come. Nevertheless, the widow remarriage movement was very
important because it became the inspiration o f other reform movements all
over the country.
Maharashtra
From 1840 on we find in Mahârâshtra ample evidence o f a growing
37° Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India
religious and social reform awareness. There were already iu many places local
reform groups and societies, many o f which were started by students o f the
lElphinstone Institution founded in 1827. In this early stage two personalities
already stand out. G opàl Hari Deshm ukh (1823-92), known as Lokahita-
wàdî, was English-educated and destined for a legal career. His writings iu
M arathi contained bitter attacks against the social iniquities o f traditional
society, the caste system, and the condition o f women, He also denounced
loudly that typical feature o f M aharashtra, the absolute intellectual and
moral dominance o f brâhmans over Hindu life. His friend and collaborator
Jotibà Govind PhQle (1827-90), o f low caste, took up this fight against bràh-
m anic oppression in his voluminous prose and poetic works, and gave it con
crete form in his organization for the uplift o f -the low castes, the Satyasodhak
Samàj. Am ong many theoretical reformers, Phüle was a very practical man:
.h e started girls’ schools, schools for untouchables, a foundling home for
widows’ children. His passionate and practical concern was for the poor, the
low-caste workers, the peasants. In his w ork we find the beginnings o f the later
political anti-bràhman movement o f Maharashtra, and also o f the trade
unions..
In 1867 M aharashtra brought forth its own organization o f religious and
social reform, the Prârthanà Samâj. It was a visit o f Keshub Chahdra Sen as
a Brâhm o Samâj missionary that inspired the Mahârâshtrians to found their
own society. T h e theism o f the Prârthanà Samâj was similar to that o f its
! Bengali counterpart, but it was consciously linked with the bhakti tradition o f
the M aharashtrian saints. There was the same rejection o f idolatry, a negative
attitude to the Vedas and transmigration, and a similar type o f congregational
worship. Social reform was also closely connected with religious reform, con
cerning itself m ainly with the iniquities o f the caste system and the condition
o f women.
Despite these similarities to Bengal, the movement in Maharashtra was also
in certain aspects quite different from its Bengali counterpart. The Maharash
trians saw reform as.a gradual process o f transformation o f values and in
stitutions. They invoked their own medieval bhakti tradition as another reform
movement that'was evolutionary, not revolutionary. Reform should not break
with Hinduism nor'should it break with society. Their social behaviour was
guided by this caution: though iconoclastic in their pronouncements, they
were careful not to offend orthodoxy and caste prejudices by rebellious action.
They also had a different attitude towards the connection between religious
and social reform. Whereas the Bengàlïs felt the need o f a close relation be
tween the two, and wére inwardly compelled either to become atheists or to
form a new creed and cult in order to make the two harmonize, the M ahârâsh
trians believed that social and religious reforms could go their separate, yet
connected, evolutionary ways. There was no need to revolutionize the social
fabric or the Hindu reljgion. A s a result they concentrated on the propagation
o f their ideas througffeducation and writing on the one hand, and they got
down to the practical task o f social work on the other.
The Prârthanà Samâj, as an organization, never had a great influence. But
its members, like M . G . Rânade, R . G . Bhândarkàr, and K . T . Telang, were
am ong the great leaders o f nineteenth-century M ahârâshtra and they became
Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India 371
the founders o f the Social Reform M ovement in later years. The special
character o f this movement ensured the possibility o f its reaching out to the
whole society, and not ju st to a separate sectarian group, and thus it was
able to develop into a movement for general social reform; as we shall
soon see.
A t this early stage religious and social reform was practically non-existent
in Madras. There were some Brâhm o Samâj and som e Pràrthanâ Sam àj
-groups, established by Bengali and M aharashtrian missionaries, but M adras
"was very slow to get really started. The reason for this seems to have been the
peculiar social structure prevalent there. It was a very rigid, ossified system,
fiercely dominated by the brâhmans, w ho were also the few jlnglish-educated
south India had so far produced. Social reform to o k long to break through in
: this region.
North India
Northern India in the meantime produced a real Hindu Luther, whose re
form w ork was to have the deepest and most lasting effect. D ayânanda
Saraswatï’s (1824-83) form ative years were very different from those o f m ost
other reformers, for whom English education was a m ajor element in their
development. D ayânanda, from a G ujaràtî brahman fam ily, ran aw ay from
hom e in his youth to becom e an ascetic. F or seventeen years he wandered
around India, putting him self to school under different teachers, and observ
ing Hinduism with a closeness no other reformer ever achieved. In 1863 he
became a wandering preacher, and five years later he added the establishment
o f schools to his activities. In 1872 he met the Brâhm os in C alcutta, and he is
said to have followed two suggestions o f K eshub : to give up his sarmyàsi's
near-nakedness and dress like a townsman, and to preach in the vernacular
instead o f in Sanskrit. B y now his ideas had crystallized, and in 1875 he
published his major work the Satyàrth Prakdsh and founded his reform society,
the  rya Samàj.
This enormously impressive and powerful figure was a striking com bination
o f the traditional ascetic and the m odem reformer. T he form ative years o f his
life were spent as a wandering sannyâsi learning the scriptures, striving
through yoga and asceticism to find his religious fulfilment, and all the time
observing living Hinduism from within. Then quite suddenly he appears on
the stage as a Luther, attacking the excrescences o f Hinduism. But his style is
still very traditional: his preaching is done orally in Sanskrit, and he challenges
the great pandits to public debates where he endeavours to prove his point o f
view by reference to the scriptures. A nd finally, after his contact with the
Bràluno and Pràrthanâ Samâj leaders, a new approach emerges: that o f the
organizing reformer. And here we see him successfully adopt the modern re
form techniques: the vernacular, publication, education, organization. It was
the powerful combination o f all these elements that made D ayânanda into a
unique figure among the nineteenth-century reformers.
D ayànanda's theological visiop was one that errlerged neither from a per
sonal mysticism nor from Western ideas, but from the intimate observation o f
the corrupt Hinduism o f his day. He attacked polytheism, idolatry, and the
372 Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India
many superstitious beliefs and rites connected with them, and the stranglehold
o f the brâhmans on sacred lore and religious practice. He had the vision o f a
primeval monotheism, above the paraphernalia and hostilities o f all human
creeds. This religion, he felt, was in fact the original V edic religion, which was
contained in the four Vedas but had become corrupted over the centuries. It
was his aim to propagate the truth o f that religion, to reinstate it in its purity,
and thereby to reinstate the Indian people in their, forgotten glory. Thus
D ayânanda’s religion, whilst denouncing much o f contemporary Hinduism,
kept close to orthodoxy in several basic ways: belief in the Vedas, and in
karma and transmigration, and allegiance to the six darshanas and tó the
various Hindu names for the one G od . This theology had a great attraction
for many, especially because o f its proud assertion o f the superiority o f the
Vedic faith over all religions, and its offer o f the possibility o fb e in g a non-
idolatrous monotheist without ceasing to be a thorough Hindu.
In his reform o f ritual D ayànanda was inspired by the same spirit. Though
he purged them o f their idolatrous and superstitious impurities, he kept
the basic rites o f Hinduism: the five daily sacrifices and the sixteen sacra
ments. T o these he added the new reformist type o f communal worship,
including the singing o f hymns, sermons, and lectures, besides the new homa
sacrifice.
D ayànanda’s social reform was founded on the basic assumption that the
many sectarian or caste taboos and customs that tyrannized over every aspect
o f a Hindu’s life had in themselves no religious meaning. Over the centuries
these excrescences had accumulated and had been given religious im portance
by the brahmans in order to dominate the people. T h e contemporary caste
system was nothing but the utter degeneration o f the original V edic varna
system: society was then divided in four classes according to the deeds and
qualities o f each individual person, and women had equal rights with men.
That was the system, D ayànanda felt, to which India should return, and the
main instruments o f reform would have to be three. Schools would rear the
children in the new spirit, com pletely isolated from contem porary society;
government action would reclassify people according to qualities and merit;
and a sudditi campaign would bring Christians and Muslims back to the Hindu
fold. This aim and program m e were obviously long-range, and D ayànanda
was too much o f a realist to expect implementation o f the perfect society in
his own day: he did not launch a direct attack on caste, nor did he expect
anti-caste action from his followers.
The beginnings o f the  rya Samâj were tentative. Although m any aspects
o f D ayânanda’s social platform and the iconoclastic side o f his religious pro
gramme appealed to many, the intellectuals o f Bom bay and Calcutta, in
fluenced as they were by their own provincial attitudes towards religious re
form, found D ayânanda’s V ed ic creed not at all palatable. But after a few
years the Samâj scored explosive success in the Panjâb, and from then on it
became the most broadly based movement o f all. Although D ayànanda does
in a sense belong to this first period o f individualistic reform, in another way
he represents a transitional stage and inaugurates future developments with
his vision o f a complete overhaul o f Hindu society and his creative am algam a
tion o f reform and nationalism.
Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India 373
Maharashtra
In M aharashtra all rpajor towns started their own local Reform Associa-.,
tions, the activity and !growth o f which depended much on the individual
leaders. A n outstanding personality was the widow Panditâ R am âbâl (1858
1922) who founded in 1890 the Sharada Sadan, a home for high class widows
in Poona. She was closely assisted by D hondu Kheshave (later Mahârshi)
K ârve, who married a widow him self and revived the W idows Remarriage
Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India 375
Madras
M adras at this time was only just beginning to interest itself in social re
form. T h e rigidity o f the caste structure and the slower political awakening in
this province were certainly important causes o f this delay. In 1892 the M adras
Hindu Social Reform Association came into being, led m ostly by radical re
formers. They, however, were a small high-caste group, and their ambition
was m ostly turned inwards upon the members, w ho individually took a num
ber o f reformist pledges. T w o individual reformers did m ake their mark in
local work at the time: Vîresalingam Pantulu (1848-1919), whose efforts were
concerned with the plight o f widows, and R . V enkata Ratnam N aidu (1862
1939), who started a ‘ social purity m ovem ent’ advocating temperance and
com bating the devadâsï custom.
Bengal
In Bengal, where social change had advanced rapidly, social reform went
into a depression. The Sâdhâran Bràhm o Samâj was very active in philan
thropic w ork on behalf o f the underprivileged and the low er classes, but it was
not engaged in social reform as such. A n outstanding exception was Shashl-
pada Banerji, w ho worked valiantly for the uplift o f women and widows, and
married a widow himself. In this province, where the commitment by some to
orthodoxy and by others to the W est was more passionate and fanatical than
elsewhere, the all-absorbing intensity o f political commitment and the passion
o f cultural revival relegated social reform into the background.
Nevertheless, Bengal did produce a religious figure o f immense influence:
Râm akrishna (1834-86). A simple temple priest at the tem ple o f K a li ait D ak-
khineshwarl near Calcutta, he achieved fame as a great mystic. H e combined
simplicity o f preaching, mystical and philosophical depth, spiritual intensity,
and direct earnestness, with a pure Hinduness to such a .degree that even the
most Westernized and sophisticated could hardly withstand his fascination.
1 His doctrine, arrived at by experimentation with other religions, was simply
that 'a ll religions are tru e’, but that for everyone the religion he was born in
was the best possible one. In a âankarite way he did not condemn idolatry, as
it met the religious needs o f simple péople. In the last years o f his life he at
tracted around him self a group o f youn g educated Bengfills w ho were capti
vated by his personality and his doctrines. T h e leader o f these was
Narendranâth D atta (1862-1902), w ho became V ivekânàhda, the founder o f
the Râm akrishna M ission and o f a new order o f monks. H is influence on
Indian nationalism will be discussed later, and also thè im portance o f the
Râmakrishna M ission as a religious and social reform organization.
376 Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India
North India
In northern India, the Panjâb and the North-Western Province, social re
form was organized in a unique way. General bodies had little impact here: it
was the  rya Samâj and the caste organizations that dominated the scene.
The  rya Samâj, though it experienced a split between orthodox and liberals
in 1893, grew as no reform b od y ever grew: by the end o f the century' its mem
bers were fast approaching 100,000. Their educational work was advancing
steadily and they soon rivalled the Christian missionaries in the number o f
their schools. D ayànanda had certainly found the right formula for success: a
combination o f elements found in isolation elsewhere. The Samâj was effi
ciently administered and it had the cohesion and strength o f a caste organiza
tion without being one; its members rivalled the Brahm os in religious zeal; yet
its social programme avoided the radicalism o f the Bràhm ós, but was rather
inspired by the liberal approach o f the Prârthanà Sam âj: whilst continuing its
intensive propaganda against idolatry, polytheism, and'the social abuses o f
Hinduism, a propaganda reaching effectively an increasing percentage o f the
north Indian population, the Samâj did not require a break with Hindu
society. The À ry a Samâj began effectively to reach out to the masses and
started the process o f changing Hindu society from within.
It was in the north that the first new caste organizations arose. Here the
caste system had some characteristics which distinguished it from other re
gions and made reform through caste possible: the dominance o f the brah
mans was com paratively weak, the m ajority o f people belonged to inter
mediate contiguous castes, and the lowest groups were not so depressed as in
other areas. Castes were traditionally welj organized and held effective power
over their members. W hat was new was that associations o f related castes
came into being: these were voluntary bodies to which caste leaders attached
their own groups. Their prime concern was the w elfare o f the members, but
their programm e included many o f the ideals and principles advocated by
social reformers, so that the N ational Social Conference officially acknow
ledged them as reform societies.
In 1887 the K âyastha Conference was formed in Lucknow, comprising the
group o f subcastes whose traditional occupation was that o f writer. The early
split o f the organization into a reformist and an orthodox section testifies to
the eager reformist ideas o f a good number o f its leaders. Another important
organization was that o f the Vaisbyas, established in 1891. T hey succeeded in
avoiding a split although their social reform platform was quite advanced, and
their number and influence grew quickly, as can be gathered from the fact
that by 1900 over too local sabhds were associated with the Conference. In
this period the caste organizations kept away from politics, but in the twen
tieth century they assumed in several areas o f India very great political
importance, in fact frequently dominating the political game.
North India
In northern India the  rya Samâj gave the lead. U ntil 1900 the Samâj had
preached caste reform but had not really expected anybody but ardent Âryas
to. act upon it, and its membership was in fact m ostly restricted to the educ
ated classes. From 1900 onwards the Samâj, the tw o factions collaborating,
started a campaign to reform the caste system. T he m ethod was nothing short
o f revolutionary: the low-easte groups were recruited and their status was
ceremonially raised to that o f the twice-born with rights o f interdining, and
intermarriage. The success o f Christian missionaries in converting these low
castes was definitely an important, factor in the action o f the Sam âj. In fact the
movement for conversion o f low castes grew out o f the sudditi m ovem ent for
conversion o f Christians and Muslims, the child o f D ayànan da’s fierce Hindu
nationalism, and gradually involved the Samâj more and m ore in com m unal
agitation and in collaboration with the communal orthodoxy o f the M ahâ-
sabhà. Once the first induction o f a low-caste group was achieved, the m ove
ment gained a momentum which even surprised the  rya reformers them
selves. Scores o f low-caste and untouchable groups were admitted, swelling
the numbers o f the Samâj from about. 100,000 at the turn o f the century to
380 Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British ìndia
Bengal
The situation in Bengal was very different from that in the other provinces.
On the one hand Bengal possessed by far the most ‘ socially reform ed’ group:
the Brâhmos and the Western-educated gravitating around them. O n the
other hand, the social movement as such had become practically non-existent.
T he Bengali leaders themselves recognized this fact and they even analysed the
causes o f this decline. Essentially, the reason was the combination o f the
peculiar quality o f Brâhm o reformism and the enormous vigour o f political
nationalism and cultural revivalism. Bràhmoism was the prototype o f reform
in Bengal, and it was intensely individualistic and Western-inspired. When
cultural revivalism was set in motion by Bankim, and the intense political pre
occupation was spurred to excess by the partition o f Bengal, these two took
complete hold o f the Bengâll mind, and the appeal o f the reform movement in
Bengal soon dwindled to insignificance.
A good deal o f practical social w ork was increasingly undertaken, mostly
by the Sàdhâran Brâhm o Samâj, but it did not grow out into social reform
crusades nor did it take organizational forms. When Shashlpada Banerji with
drew from active life ju st before the partition o f Bengal, Bengal lost her last
reformist crusader.
Conclusion
By the 1920s the Indian religious and social reform movement had lost its
peculiar identity as an important and distinct phenomenon o f Indian life.
M any factors contributed to this. One o f them was the appearance on the
national stage o f Gàndhï, who was to dominate and often confuse it with his
new ideas on politics, religion, and society. Politics themselves developed in a
different way, and from now on we see a much closer association o f concern
for social reform with political awareness and action, and a conviction that
382 Hindu Religious and Social Reform in British India
the stale through legislation must lake responsibility for the reform o f society.
Nehrü’s concept o f the Welfare Stale embodied this ideal at its best. Another
important factor was that agitation for social reform dispersed itself more and
more into the practical business o f organizing social service in different
special fields, such as the education and uplift o f women by the All-India
W omen’s Conference, village developm ent projects, the organization ò f the
depressed classes, and the foundation o f labour unions. But, in the final in
stance, these new attitudes and approaches, while pushing ‘ social reform ’ as a
specifically identifiable label into the background, owe their very existence to
those leaders and organizations that, from Râm M ohan R oy to Làjpat Râi,
worked for the emergence o f national identity and social reform, and for their
successful integration.
s
C H A P T E R XXVII
His school in Delhi had probably, iu Ihose days o f chaos and insecure com
munications, only a local significance. But his sons translated the Q ur’ân into
Urdù, as be had done iuto Persian. The most eminent o f them, Shâh ‘ Abd
al-‘ A zîz, has received wrong publicity for an anti-British ruling, in which he
declared India as dâr al-harb (enemy territory); recent research has shown his
relations with the officers o f East India Com pany were ambivalent, and at
certain points friendly. His influence on T ïpü Sultan has also been suggested,
but is very doubtful. Tïpü Sultan’s conflict w ith the British and the Marâthâs
was much less an ideological Islamic struggle than an ambitious effort to
maintain and extend an independent principality under his rule.
But when we come to the M ujahidin in the first two decades o f the nine
teenth century, there is no doubt that W alï-A llàh’s movement takes the form
o f a social and political organization. T he organizer o f the m ovem ent o f the
Mujâhidîn was Sayyid Ahm ad Barëlwi, a disciple o f Shâh ‘A b d al-‘ A ziz. Two
learned scions o f the fam ily o f W alï-Allâh, Shâh Ismà'îJ and Shâh ‘A b d al-
H ayy, formed his brains trust. His was the first movement in Indian Islam to
contact the masses, rural as well as urban. The party (jamâ'a) which he built up
consisted o f a vast network am ong the Muslim population in northern India,
with branches in certain major cities in the south. Propaganda was carried out
by word o f m outh and through tracts and poems; leaders o f prayers were
appointed in certain mosques to teach essentials o f faith; even courts were
established to administer justice am ong Muslims according to the Islamic law,
parallel to government courts. In doctrine the movement was strictly funda
mentalist and monotheistic, rejecting all associationism (shirk) o f custom and
folk-belief, and strongly opposed to syncretist trends such as visits tò Hindu
shrines, participation in Hindu festivals, or such social customs borrowed
from Hinduism as excessive expenditure on weddings or prejudice against the
remarriage o f Hindus.
In the later 1820s the movement became militant, regarding jihâd as one of
the basic tenets o f faith. Possibly encouraged by the British, with whom the
m ovement did not feel powerful enough to come to grips at the outset, it chose
as the venue o f jihâd the north-west frontier o f the subcontinent, where it was
directed against the Sikhs. Barëlw i temporarily succeeded in carving out a
small theocratic principality which collapsed owing to the friction betwe’en his
Pathân and north Indian follow ers; and he was finally defeated and slain by
the Sikhs in 1831. The movement survived him for several decades, came into
conflict with the British Governm ent, and eventually petered out.
A n almost independent offshoot o f Barêlw l’s movement was organized in
W est Bengal by one o f his disciples, M lc N ith a r ‘A ll (1782-1831), popularly
known as TitO Mir, whose organizational w ork am ong the M uslim peasants
led to the opposition o f Hindu landlords, powerful since the Permanent
Settlement o f 1793, and British indigo planters. Som e Hindu landlords im
posed a beard-tax on his followers and persecuted them in other w ays. TitQ
M ir’s organization and his movement were not really as militant *or revolu
tionary as the British records m ake out; only during the last year o f his life
was there confrontation between him and the British police. Finally he was
killed in action in 1831 by a British regiment o f native infantry.
A b o u t the same time, further to the east in Bengal, there spread another
Islamic Reform Movements 385
fundamentalist reformist movement known as the Farà'idi because o f its
emphasis on the Islamic pillars o f faith {farà'id). Though any considerable link
between Titü M ir and the F a rà ’idîs is generally denied by scholars, there can
be little doubt that these two Bengali movements overlapped, in view o f their
proximity in time and place. T hey have several features in com m on. Both
came in conflict with Hindu landlords and British indigo planters and eventu
ally with the British administration in Bengal. Both preached a change in the
mode o f dress to distinguish the Muslims from the Hindus. Both preached in
tensively and in detail against customs and beliefs borrowed from popular
Hinduism. The main difference between the two movements is that whereas
the F arà’idîs suspended Friday and 'Id prayers, thinking of, if not proclaim
ing, India under the British as dar al-harb (enemy territory) where these
prayers are not required, T itü M ir did not do so.
B ut there can be little doubt that the genesis o f the two movements was
different. The F arà’idi movement shows the influence o f A rab W ahhabism
and little acquaintance with the general theological thought o f Shâh W all-
A llâh. Its founder, Hâji Sharï'at-Allâh, had lived in the H ijâz from 1799 to
1818 and probably visited it once again soon after. The movement he started
affirmed strongly the unity o f G od and aimed at the eradication o f social in
novations current among the Muslims o f Bengal, many o f them borrowed
from Hinduism. These included quasi-worship at various syncretistic or
pseudo-Muslim shrines, and floating o f the bherâ (ceremonial boat), a fertility
rite, ceremonial dances, planting o f banana trees (phallic symbols) round the
house on the occasion o f the first menstruation o f a girl, and other such rites.
Though Sharî'at-AUâh’s movement clashed with the interests o f the landed
gentry o f Bengal and he was suspected and persecuted, it remained under him
religious and social rather than political. Under his son D udü M iyân, from
1840 onwards, it became revolutionary. D udû M iyân built it into a hierarchi
cal organization rising from the village to the provincial level w ith a khalifa
(authorized deputy) at each level. This hierarchical organization was alm ost
like a parallel government embracing all the F arà’idls, their affairs and dis
putes. H e organized a para-military force, armed only with clubs, to fight the
henchmen o f Hindu landlords or even the police. H e was arrested and re
leased a number o f times; but the F arà’idi movement, which could once count
one third o f the Muslim population o f D àccâ am ong its adherents, became
w eak after his arrest in 1847. A fter D udü M iyân’ s death in 1862 it survived
merely as a religious movement without any political overtones.
Th e main traditional M uslim opposition to the Farà’idi movement came
from the T a'ayyun l movement led by K aràm at 'A li Jawnpurl and deriving its
inspiration from the religious thought o f Shâh W all-Allah. The direct conflict
between the F arà’idîs and the T a'ayyunls began about 1839 and lasted for
nearly two decades. Like the F arà’idîs, the T a'ayyunls also rejected innova
tions aud syncretistic practices. But they rejected the Farà’idi doctrine that
faith without w ork was insufficient. Other differences were on poinfs o f ritual.
They were strongly critical o f the F arà’idi suspension o f Friday and *Id
prayers, arguing that, since there was religious freedom for the Muslims un
der British rule, India was not dar al-harb; if it was not dër al-Islâm (Islamic
territory), it was at least a land o f peace (dâr al-amân).
386 Islamic Reform Movements
mosques and do not pray with other Muslims. T he members o f the com
m unity pay 4 per cent o f their incom e to a religious fund and may make
further contributions to it. T he organization o f the community is strong and
centralized. Its headquarters were in the town o f its origin, Qàdiyân, which
went to India in the partition o f the subcontinent in 1947; since then their
centre has been at R abw ah in W est Pakistan. They total about h alf a million,
h a lf that number living in W est Pakistan. A split occurred in the movément in
1914 and it came to be divided in two groups: the Qâdiyânî which does, and
the L ab ori which does not believe in the prophethood o f M irzà Ghulàm
A hm ad. Both groups have produced an extensive religious literature in Urdu,
English, and other languages; and the Q âdiyânî Ahm adîs have been for
several decades very busy in the propagation o f their form o f Islam in A frica
with considerable success. They have also missionary centres in several cities
in the West.
Th e later h a lf o f the nineteenth and the early twentieth centuries also saw
an orthodox revival, which was as much a reaction against-the ‘ naturalist’
modernism o f Sayyid Ahm ad K hân and the heretical messianism o f the
A hm ad ï movement as an assertion in its own right o f the traditional Islam.
The traditional revival was spearheaded by the seminary at D eoband,
founded in 1867 by theologians o f tbe School o f W ali-Allâh, the m ost pro
minent am ong whom was Muham m ad Qâsim N anotaw ï who also took a
prom inent part in counter-polemics against the Christian missionaries and the
 ryâ Samàjists. T h e principal objectives o f the seminary at D eoband were to
re-establish contact between the theologians and the educated M uslim middle
classes, and to revive the study o f Muslim religious and scholastic sciences. A s
a religious university Deoband soon became an honoured institution, not
only in M uslim India but also in the world o f Islam at large, and had a re
putation second only to that o f A l-A zh ar in Cairo. T h e later scholars o f
D eoband, M ahm üd al-Hasan and Husayn Ahm ad M adani, participated in the
Indian nationalist movement, in alliance with the Indian N ational Congress,
while another D eoband scholar, Shabblr Ahm ad ‘ Uthmanî, supported the
Pakistan movement; and yet another, 'U b ayd -A llâh SindhI, developed a
theory o f Islamic socialism.
A school less conservative than D eoband and m ore responsive to the de
mands o f the modern age was the N adw at a l-'u lam a ’, founded in 1894 at
L ucknow by the historian Shibli N u'm ant and other scholars. T he school
aimed to offer an enlightened interpretation o f religion in order to fight the
trends o f agnosticism and atheism which had follow ed the advent o f modern
Western education. One o f the side-grow ths'of this school was a publishing
institution at A'zam garh which made a valuable contribution to Indo-Islam ic
studies from a liberal M uslim point o f view.
T h e third fam ous traditional school is the much older one at Farangl
M ahal in Lucknow . Its fame rests principally on evolving the ‘ N izâm iyya’
syllabus which was followed by m ost religious or com m unal M uslim schools
all over India. U nlike the two other schools, the one at Farangi M ahal
accepted Süfism as a valid experience and a valid field o f study.
A nother traditionalist movement which developed in the second h a lf o f the
nineteenth century and continues to the present day is that o f the ahl-l hadith
Islamic Reform Movements 389
or o f the followers o f the dicta o f the Prophet, It was also influenced con
siderably by the scholarship o f W all-Allàh and earlier Indo-Muslim theolo
gians. The ahl-i hadith accepted the entire corpus o f the Prophet’s dicta in the
six classical collections as genuine and tried to mould their faith and life
in the light o f these dicta. They were accused by the British o f W ahhabi sym
pathies, a charge which was, on the whole, unfair. Bid‘a (innovation) was, for
the ahl-i hadith, the antithesis o f the sunna (the Prophet’s practice) and there
fore abominable. In this category they counted the modernism o f Sayyid
Ahm ad K hàn as wçll as the messianistic ’ heresy’ o f the Ahm adls. T hey en
joined a life o f conformity, and their religious experience was sublimated by
an all-embracing pessimism apprehensive o f the approaching D ay o f Judge
ment. In politics they preached quietism and held fitna (chaos, uprising) in
horror. The principal leader o f the movement was Nawwàb Siddlq Hasan
K h àn whose works, written in U rdu, were also translated into Arabic.
Com parable and complementary to the religious revivalist movements was
the political revivalist movement from the 1880’s onwards. This was essenti
ally a movement o f political separatism initiated, as we have seen, by Sayyid
A hm ad K hân. The political instinct o f the Indo-M uslim élite was to partici
pate in and develop this movement. In 1906, a delegation o f Muslim leader
ship, including Sayyid Ahm ad K h a n ’s successor at Aligarh, Muhsin al-M ulk,
as well as A ghâ Khân III met the viceroy, L ord M in to ,a n d pressed the two
M uslim demands; that the representation o f the Muslims in various assem
blies should be on the basis o f a separate electorate o f Muslims by M uslim s;
and that the percentage o f the Muslim representation should be higher than
their percentage in the population, in view 'of the special identity and interests
o f their community. The British Government m ay have encouraged this stand,
though-it did not ‘ inspire’ it, as it has been accused o f doing by Indian
nationalists. It certainly conceded the substance o f the Muslim demands. T he
Muslim party, called the M uslim League, was founded in the same year, and
became the first platform o f Muslim political interests. Bengal was partitioned
in 1905 by the viceroy, L ord Curzon, a move which was advantageous econo
mically and politically to the Muslims o f East Bengal.
The partition o f Bengal was annulled in 1911 under strong Hindu pressure.
Muslim leaders realized the instability o f British patronage and the M uslim
League came to terras with the Indian N ational Congress in an understanding
that they would face the British power jointly.
From 1919 to 1924 the Muslim League was superseded by the K hilàfat
Conference as the party o f the politically active Muslim élite. The K h ilàfat
Conference had a mass following, which the M uslim League did not have until
the late 1930s. It worked in close co-operation with the Indian N ational
Congress and accepted the over-all leadership o f Gandhi. F or three or four
years it seemed that Muslims would weld themselves into one nation with the
Hindus. But, as Jawàharlâl Nebrü has observed: ‘ This nationalism was itself
a composite force and behind it could be distinguished a Hindu nationalism
. . . and a Muslim nationalism partly looking beyond the-frontiers o f India.’
The real objective o f the Khilàfat Conference was to prevent the dismember
ment o f Turkey, to preserve the independence and integrity o f the Ottom an
caliphate, and to prevent the subjugation o f A rab lands. These objectives
390 Islamic Reform Movements
I
During the seventy or so years from the foundation o f the first nationalist
associations until the achievement o f independence, the Indian nationalist
movement changed its character in various ways, under the influence o f the
traditional past and the more recent British past, and also as a result o f the
new ideas and methods that marked its development. M odifying slightly
the periodization which Michael Brecher has distinguished in the history o f the
nationalist movement,1 one might divide the history o f the movement into
(i) the 187OS-189OS: the period o f M oderate pre-eminence; (2) the 18 9 0 s -
1 9 1 4 : the struggle for supremacy within the movement between the M oder
ates and Extremists; and (3) 1 9 1 4—1 9 4 7 : the period o f agitational politics and
Gandhi’s leadership. Broadly speaking, in the first o f these periods the
nationalist movement was essentially British in its intellectual origins; in the
second it drew both on indigenous symbols and ideas and upon W estern (in
cluding British) ideologies and exam ples; and, in the third period, the m ove
ment drew upon widening circles o f Indian and imported inspiration while
becoming increasingly inventive, particularly under the impetus o f G andhi's
creative genius,
A n y nationalist movement in a colonial situation is bound to have both a
negative and a positive aspect. T he negative aspect is the determination to
expel the foreign rulers and achieve self-government; the positive aspect is the
concept o f the sort o f nation which should emerge from the struggle for inde
pendence. In negative terms the Moderates aimed at m oving slowly towards
self-government for India, with the ‘ w hite’ colonies o f the British Empire as
their model. The moderate Indian Association emerged in 18 76 in Calcutta
and spread across northern India with the express goal o f stimulating ‘ the
sense o f nationalism amongst the people’ ;2 and from its earliest sessions in
1885 and 1886 the Indian N ational Congress pointed to Canadian and
Gandhi himself learned much from the West— methods o f civil disobedience
and passive resistance from Thoreau, fo r instance, and the concepts o f the dig
nity o f labour and social reform --as did Jawaharlal Nehrüand other younger
leaders in their attachment to socialism and large-scale industrialization. But
there was also a deliberate turning back to the indigenous and the traditional.
Gandhi advocated swadeshi(‘ one’s own country’), by which he meant the use
o f indigenous and local institutions as well as Indian-made goods,10 and
fostered the use o f the traditional Indian spinning-wheel, the charkhâ; he in
voked Hindu and Jain concepts such as ahimsâ (non-violence) and tapasyâ
(self-inflicted suffering); and called fo r hartals or the cessation o f business
activity, a traditional means o f persuading the authorities to m odify what the
protesters regard as oppression.” Through his celibacy (brahmacharya) and
asceticism Gandhi was invoking extraordinary, super-physical pow ers in
which tens o f millions o f his countrymen believed deeply.11 M uch o f GândhI’s
success in attracting a vast follow ing was due to his use o f concepts such as
moksha, symbols and parabies drawn from the stories o f Râma and Prahlâda,
o f institutions (even the M uslim K hilàfat), and o f techniques like the hartal
which were already part o f the consciousness o f various Indian groups..
A s one o f the most creative figures in modern history Gandhi combined his
own ideas and responses with influences from m any sources to form a social
psychology and a programme o f action fo r remedying situations of.conflict.
He was probably less concerned with the *negative ’ nationalist goal o f evicting
the British than with the positive question o f the sort o f India he wished to see
emerge. Even so, Indian self-government was essential— the vision o f India for
which he was working was that of. a self-reliant, fearless country obedient to
its conscience and its sense o f m orality: as he him self said, such a country
would be self-governing in reality even if foreigners remained in the admini
stration. B ut he was even more concerned to inculcate his technique o f
satyâgraha as the means o f solving social and political conflict in India, and
eventually in the rest o f the w orld.13 E rik H. Eriks on” has suggested, com par
ing him with Freud, that Gandhi offered a cure for the neuroses which
threaten to destroy society through the technique o f satyâgraha (literally
‘ holding firm ly to truth’). In this technique o f non-violent resistance, or even
non-violent coercion, im portant differences which prove unamenable to com
promise or arbitration are solved by one o f the opponents refusing to com ply
w ith the other’ s wishes and accepting the consequences, even i f this involves
physical injury or deprivation o f liberty: such sufferings patiently endured
will ultimately, possibly assisted by the non-violent pressure o f public opinion,
bring about a change o f heart in the enemy.
*• See ‘ Swadeshi’ (14 Feb. 1916) in Speeches and Writings o f Mahatma Gandhi, Madras,
■9J 3i PP- 336- 4 4 ; Young India, 3 D ec. 1919, p. 8.
" See A . L . Basham, ‘ Traditional Influences on (he Thought o f Mahatma G andhi’, in
R . Kum ar (ed.), Essays on Gandhimt Politics: the Rowlalt Satyagraha o f 1919, Oxford,
1971, pp. 17-42; N . K . Bose, Studies in Gandhism, Calcutta, 1962, esp. 'C onflict and its
Resolution in Hindu Civilization', pp. 69-115.
11 See A . L. Basham, The Wonder that was India, London, 1936, pp. 244-6.
” See the writer’s ‘ Non-Co-operation, 1920-22* in S. N . Ray, Gandhi, India and the World,
Philadelphia, Pa., 1970, pp. 171-2.
14 Gandhi's Truth: on the Origins o f Militant Nonviolence, London, 1970..
The Nationalist Movement 395
During this third period o f Indian nationalism, G andhi led three great ex
tended campaigns involving increasingly large numbers o f people drawn from
virtually all sections o f society— in 1919 and, after a lull, 1920-2; in 1930 and
1931-2; and again in 1940 and 1942. H e also led or guided satyâgraha cam
paigns, which were at first more localized but had widespread effects— such as
those in Champaran and G ujarât in 1917-18, which demonstrated his tech
nique and attracted lieutenants and adherents w ho were to participate in the
first nationwide campaign in 1919. The campaigns at V ykom in 1924-5 and
Bardoli in 1928 focused national attention upon such matters as how to im
prove the lot o f depressed social groups and how to refuse to pay taxes.
A s we have seen, much o f G ândhi’s success in attracting a great follow ing in
his major campaigns was due to his invocation o f traditional and fam iliar
concepts, symbols, institutions, and techniques— though, by m odifying them
or combining them with exotic or novel ideas, he alienated some o f the most
orthodox Indians. A t the same time, his success was based upon concern fo r
the material problems and deprivations o f millions o f his fellow-countrym en:
his first campaigns were on issues o f rural exactions and taxes and w orkers’
wages. His advocacy o f the charkha and khâdi(hand-spun, hand-woven cloth)
was aimed at supplementing the incomes o f poor people, particularly in the
countryside, and forcing better-off groups to identify themselves with them ;
his manufacture o f salt in illicit circumvention o f the tax on this dietary staple
• was the most flam boyant example of-his concern to increase m aterial and
social welfare,-w hichinçluded improvement in the status of-women and un
touchables; and even his adoption o f the loin-cloth in 1921 marked his
identification with the poorest Indians rather than his asceticism.,s
Whether any o f these elements in G àndhï’s programme put m ore than a few
paise into any Indian’ s purse is doubtful, but certainly G àndhï did bring
practical benefits in terms o f improved status to deprived groups, and above
all he succeeded in convincing millions that their own lives and those o f others
would be better and nobler for follow ing him. Recognizing that in some ways
the colonial situation debased the characters o f m any o f those w ho were ruled
(and occasionally brought out the worst in the characters o f some o f the rulers
and their wom enfolk, as E. M . Forster and J. R . Ackerley have illustrated),
Gàndhï increased his appeal by arousing the m oral indignation o f Indians
against, for example, the repressive Rowlatt bills, the terms o f the peace
treaty with the Muslim Turks, the salt laws, the involvement o fln d ia in the
Second W orld W ar without consulting the Indians, and generally against the
imperial relationship itself, which could be seen as responsible for so m any
o f the deprivations or weaknesses o f the Indian people.
Even though Gàndhï bestrides the decades from 1919 like a colossus, other
leaders with other policies also made their m ark on Indian nationalism . D u r
ing the 1920s, after the subsidence o f the N on-Co-operation agitation, the
Swarajists, under the leadership o f M otïlàl N ehrü, Srinivasa Iyengar, K elk âr,
and Vïthalbhâï Patel, contested successfully with the M oderate nationalists or
Liberals for entry into the legislatures: they entered with a policy o f n on-co
operation with the Governm ent from within but stayed to co-operate in par
liamentary politics. In this many influences m ay be discerned— Gândhïan
15 See Hindu, 23 Sept. 1921. p. 5.
396 The Nationalist Movement
16 See D . E. U . Baker, ‘ The Break-down o f Nationalist Unity and the Formation o f the
Swaraj Parties, India, 1922 to 1924’ , in University Studies in History, Vol. 5, N o. 4 (1970),
esp. pp. 86-7.
u See Memorandum by His Excellency the Viceroy, Oct. 1915, in Hardinge Papers,
Cambridge University Library.
18 Sir A . Chamberlain to the Viceroy, Lord Chelmsford, 29 Mar. tg i7 and 2 M ay 1917,
in Government o f India, Home Dept. Political file A , July 1917, N os. 299-313.
” See D . A . Low, ‘ The Government o f India and the First Non-Co-operation Movement
— 1920-1922’, Journal o f Asian Studies, Vol. 25, No. 2 (Feb. 1966), p. 249.
The Nationalist Movement 397
agitations o f the later 1920s and early 1930s encouraged the British G overn
ment to put to one side the Indian Statutory Com m ission’s report and call the
Round Table Conferences, thus reopening the w hole question o f the amount
o f power to be devolved.
Following the British Conservative Party’s rejection o f the *die-hard’
opposition to Indian reform , led by Churchill, at its December 1934 con
ference,10 the Governm ent o f India A c t o f 1935 provided for provincial re
sponsible government on the basis o f greatly enlarged electorates. It was
ironic that it was Churchill, under the pressure o f the threatening ‘ Quit In d ia’
agitation in the wartime circumstances o f 1942, who sent his Lord Privy Seal
— significantly a Labour man— to offer the Indian nationalist leaders inde
pendence at the end o f the war, recognizing wryly that Britain was defending
‘ India in order, if successful, to be turned o u t’ . The ultimate timing o f the
departure was affected by other factors as well as Indian nationalist pressures.
Britain was exhausted by the war, financially and militarily, and this weakened
her determination to hold on imperially. Attlee and his Labour Party col
leagues, the last and m ost unfettered o f a line o f liberal-minded politicians
committed to political advance for India— in this case to the hilt— were elected
to power at the critical moment. But at the same time the British were en
couraged in their exeunt by the memory o f the bitteruess and extent of.th e
wartime nationalist agitation in India, by the spectre o f mutiny foreshadowed
in the Indian N ational A rm y, by the disturbances surrounding the I.N .A .
trials and the subsequent mutinies in K arachi, Bom bay, and elsewhere. '
The effect o f the nationalist movement, then, was to move the British to
m ake specific devolutions o f power at various points from 1916 onwards, even
if these devolutions fell short o f the ‘ home rule’ or ‘ swaràj in one y ear’ or
agreement to ‘ quit In d ia’ which had been demanded by the nationalists; and
overall it moved a sufficient number o f British statesmen in positions o f
power and a sufficient am ount o f public opinion, both in Britain and elsewhere,
to a readiness to grant self-determination without a: war o f independence.
I ll
India is a parliamentary dem ocracy in the sense that the central and state
governments o f the day arc responsible to the Parliament or state legislatures
and through them to the adult population, who at election time have a true
choice between candidates o f various parties. T b e seed o f Indian dem ocracy
was planted by the Western, and particularly the British, education intro
duced in the nineteenth century, but that India has grown into the w orld’s
largest dem ocracy is due largely to the lengthy experience o f the nationalist
movement and its interaction with British governments. The demand for par
liam entary dem ocracy was also strong in other former colonial countries, but
that it has taken root and lasted longer in India than in most o f them is partly
.because Indian nationalists had formulated this demand at least sixty years
.“ See S. C . Ghosh, ‘ Decision-Making and Power in the British Conservative Party: a
Case-Study o f the Indian Problem, 1929-34’, Political Studies, Vol. 13, No. 2 (June 1965),
,ppi 198—212; D . A . Low, ‘ Sir Tej Bahadur Sapru and the First Round-Table Conference',
in D . A . L ow (ed .), Soundings In Modern South Asian History, p. 296.
39« The Nationalist Movement
before independence was gained and had argued the case for this institution,
and had heard it argued, with clarity and emotion throughout this long period.
Numbers o f Congress Moderates had found their way into the legislatures
in the elections on very restricted franchises (described as ‘ selection’) under
the 1892 and 1909 Councils A cts: here they learnt to operate the limited
parliamentary institutions available and to press for more. Having withdrawn
from Congress to form the Liberal parties in 1918, they were returned as one
o f the largest and certainly most articulate groups in the expanded legislatures
under the M ontagu-Chelm sford reforms in 1921, in the absence o f Congress
men as a result o f the Non-Co-operation campaign. In these councils they
were able to achieve reforms and to influence the executive, which reinforced
the notion o f the government and the bureaucracy, being answerable, and in
certain areas o f policy under ‘ dyarchy’ even responsible, to elected repre
sentatives. The activities o f the Liberals, along with other elected members o f
the councils such as the non-brâhmans in M adras and Bombay, also demon
stra ted that the legislatures were repositories o f power, and so made numbers
o f Congressmen anxious to obtain election, both to further nationalist goals
and to gain the fruits o f power and influence for the social groups from which
they came. Even when the numbers o f elected Liberal members o f the legisla
tures were reduced by Congress competitors at elections in the 1920s arid
1930s, the Liberals continued to be important in Indian political and nation
alist life, as nominated if not elected legislators; as members o f the V iceroy’s
or governors’ executives and as their advisers; as members ó f important con
stitutional inquiries such as the M uddiman Committee, the committees asso
ciated with the Simon Commission and the Round Table Conferences; as
commissioners and investigators; and as negotiators between Congress and
the British. Men such as V . S. Srlnivâsa Sàstrî, P. Sivaswàmî Iyer, R . P.
Paranjpye, and M . R . Jayakâr played important roles for much o f this period,
and a Liberal like T. B. Saprü not only seems to have.playéd an important
part in drafting Congress constitutional documents such as the Lucknow
Pact o f 1916 and the Nehru Report o f 1927 but also continued this role in
drawing up independent India’ s constitution.
Those Congressmen who were elected as Ssvarâjists in 1923 and 1926 re
ceived training in operating institutions o f a parliamentary type. They found
that they had to learn to operate them even in order to obstruct and protest.
This constitutional tradition was reinforced in Congress when Congressmen
stood successfully for election in J937 and in 1945-6, and the experience gained
in running responsible provincial governments between 1937 and 1947 stood
many members o f the later Congress ruling party in good stead after inde
pendence.
Under the 1935 A ct the provincial governments followed the Westminster
prime ministerial model rather than presidential models; it was this which
Congress politicians learnt to operate and which they introduced at the centre
and retained in the provinces at India’s independence. A n irresponsible execu
tive was identified with foreign rule, and responsible parliamentary govern
ment was aspired to as the hallm ark o f self-government. In certain ways the
British model was quite clearly modified or even transformed by Indian
practice before independence. One o f the chief examples o f this is in the
The Nationalist Movement 399
dom inance o f the system by one party, which only seemed to com e into ques
tion for four years, 1967-71, out o f the 25 since independence. T h e dom inance
o f the particular party in question, the Congress Party, is the natural result o f
its role as, in a sense, the embodiment o f the Indian nation during the
nationalist struggle, and o f the organization, prestige, leaders, and member
ship it inherited from that struggle.
T w o factors im portant in maintaining the conditions in which democracy
can flourish are a civil service.that is impartial, intelligent, apolitical, and
uncorrupt, at least in its upper levels, and an arm y which is independent and
at the same time subordinate to the political wing. T he nationalist period
helped to bequeath such a bureaucracy and army to India. W hile G andhi had
called for government servants to desert their imperialist masters, the
nationalist movement made little attempt to undermine the position o f the
law, the civil service, or the army as such, and on the other hand through
agitation and participation in government it contributed to their Indianization.
India’s federal structure is inherited from the British, w ho devised it as a
w orkable means o f ruling and as a structure within which power could be de
volved in the parts while retaining control at the centre, drawing on the
m odels o f the United States or the ‘ w hite’ dom inions. It also marks a re
cognition o f the facts o f human political geography in India. B ut in addition
it bears influences from the nationalist period; G andhi reorganized Congress
into linguistic provincial units in 1921, and through linguistic reorganization
the Indian states have approxim ated increasingly towards the structure o f the
dominant party. The strength o f the central governm ent vis-à-vis the states,
epitomized in the role o f the President and in matters such as finance, develop
ment investment, tariffs and, imports, m ay be seen as the administrative re
flection o f the strong W orking Com m ittee or H igh Com m and in Congress.
India is a secular state— or rather, in so far as Indian governments assist all
the religious groups in the county, it is m ore accurately described as ‘ pluralis
tic ’ . This owes much to the persistence o f the M oderate aim o f a secular state,
but was modified by G andhi’s insistence that m orality and politics were one
and by his appeals to the convictions o f various religious groups. It was m odi
fied, too, by the Hindu com m unal movements o f the 1920s and 1930s, such as
the sangathan and sudditi movements, the Ràshtrîya Swayam sevak Sangh,
and the Hindu M ahâsâbhâ, in some ways the descendants o f the Hindu
assertiveness o f Extremist nationalism ; and by Congress’s blunting o f their
appeal to Hindus by resisting the M uslim m inority’s demands for safeguards.
The resulting dominance o f the Hindu m ajority com m unity inside and out
side -Congress was reinforced in the newly independent India by the flight o f
som e o f the best Muslim talent to Pakistan, so that there has been a continu
ing problem o f ensuring that Muslims are treated equally w ith the other com
munities,21 and feel themselves to be treated equally. A t the same time, the
M oderates’ goal o f secularism was pursued through the 1930s and 1940s b y
nationalists, such as Jawaharlal N ehru, attracted by the notions o f social
11 O f recruits to the Indian Administrative Service between 1948 and 1960, for example,
nearly 90 per cent were Hindu and only 1-9 per cent M uslim. See R . Braibanti and J. J.
Spengler (eds.), Administration and Economic Development in India, Durham , N .C ., 1963,
pp. 53-4.
4oo The Nationalist Movement
IV
The political sociology o f the independent states o f tbe subcontinent has
continued to change since independence11— particularly under the im pact o f
universal franchise and econom ic development— but many o f the social
groups which have been active in politics since independence had established
themselves over the preceding sixty years. Their energies had been mobilized
“ See e.g. R . Kothari and R . Maru, 'C a sle and Secularism in India: Case Study of a
Caste Federation', Journal o f Asian Studies, Vol. 25, N o. I (Noy. 1965), pp. 33-50; L .I . and
S. H. Rudolph, The Modernity o f Tradition: Political Development o f India, Chicago and
London, 1967; M. Rashiduzzaman, ‘ The A warn i League in the Political Development of
Pakistan’ , Asian Survey, Vol. 10, N o . 7 (July 1970), pp. 574-87.
The Nationalist Movement
14 See À . T. Tansley, ‘ The Non-Brahman Movement In Western and Central India, 1917—
23 ’ (unpublished M .A . thesis, University o f Western Australia, 1969), pp. 53-74; Maureen
L . P. Patterson, ‘ Caste and Political Leadership in M aharashtra’, Economic Weekly
(Bombay), 6 (25 Sept. 1954Î, 1065-6.
” E. F . Irschick, Politics and Social Conflict in South India; the Non-Brahman Movement
and Tamil Separatism, iç/6-,iÿ2ÿ, Berkeley, Cai., 1969, pp. 48, 51, 61-2.
11 This period is starting Id receive close attention from scholars, see e.g. It. Kum ar (ed.),
Essays on Gandhtan Politics; the Powlatt Satyagraha o f 1Ç19, Oxford, 1971.
15 On theimportance o f communications for nationalism, see K . W. Deutsch, Nationalism
and Social Communication; an Inquiry into the Foundations o f Nationality, Cambridge, Mass.
1966.
The Nationalist Movement 403
Nehru and the Socialists from 1930 onwards helped to retain for the nation
alist movement the adherence o f the underprivileged, notably working-class
and peasant groups.30 Indeed it seems that the activities o f the Socialists and
o f the K isân Sabhàs (peasants’ associations) attracted such people in larger
numbers as time went on.
This process was reinforced by the constitutional political activity o f
Congress in lengthy periods in the mid-i920s, Ì930S, and 1940s, follow ing the
major Gàndhlan agitations. During these periods Congress participated,
along with other parties, in the elections for the provincial and central legisla
tures— as it did at all times in those for local governm ent bodies— and the
mounting competition for seats, accompanying extensions o f the franchise,
brought increasing circles o f society into the political process.
A s Congress expanded its organizational machinery and achieved electoral
success, it became increasingly attractive to groups which had stood a lo of
from the nationalist movement or opposed it. N otably the non-brahmans o f
western India joined Congress in form ing governments in Bom bay from the
1937 elections onwards31 and the non-brâhmans o f south India likewise in the
1950s.32 One group o f whom this was not true was, o f course, the Muslims.
Some Muslims were attracted by the growing success and influence o f C on
gress, and its secular ideology, but the legacy o f extremist nationalism and the
Hindu communal movements o f the 1920s and 1930s stiffened Congress re
sistance to concessions and safeguards for the M uslim m inority. This gave
Muslims ample cause fo r apprehension, and enabled the M uslim League to
draw Muslims into the separatist movement in the 1940s.
The nationalist movement thus helped to foster the m ovem ent fo r Pakistan,
and by contributing to Muslim fears helped to submerge or disguise the very
real conflicts o f interest between the two wings o f Pakistan which soon began
to appear after partition. On the Indian side the political legacy o f the
struggle for independence was clearer, in terms o f social groups which had
been mobilized and the major political party through which they were to
operate, though here, too, regional tensions and loyalties had developed in the
course o f the struggle but were som ewhat disguised by the nationwide sweep
o f the movement for independence and were to flower later.
V
The Indian nationalist movement has had a lasting effect not only upon the
successor states in the subcontinent but upon m any other countries as well.
As the first great modern anti-colonial movement, in the non-W estem
world, it encouraged nationalist movements in other A sian colonies— in
Indonesia, Burma, Indo-China, and Ceylon. In the later 1920s the Indonesian
nationalist movement looked explicitly to G andhi’s ideas and the m odel o f
Gândhïan non-co-operation, even though Sukarno came to criticize what he
regarded as Gandhi’s concern with abstractions.33
30 See R . Kum ar, ‘ The Political Process in India’, South Aito, 1 (Aug. 1971), 106.
31 See A . Tansley, op. cit., pp. 216-17.
33 See L. I. and S. H. Rudolph, The Modernity o f Tradition: Political Development In India,
Chicago, 1967, pp. 55-61. _
33 B. Dahm, Sukarnos Kampfum Indonésiens Unabhângigkeit: Werdegang ttndIdeen eines
404 The Nationalist Movement
VI
In the context of south Asia’s history, the contribution o f the Indian
nationalist movement may prove to be long- or short-lived. T he participants
in the movement and their leaders were human, and as such fallible: the ob
server may not admire or approve o f everything they did, and those w ho try
to apply their methods to other situations o f conflict or discontent may some
times do so inadequately. But the Indian nationalist movement has earned its
place in history alongside the greatest developments in human organization
and men’s thought, most o f all because o f the moral stature o f its greatest
leader, Gandhi. Gandhi was not the first Indian nationalist to appeal to the
conscience o f his opponents and his would-be followers, nor was he the last—
Dâdâbhâi N àorojl deplored the ‘ un-British’ nature o f British rule in India,
and under Jawaharlal Nehru India for a while became a sort o f conscience to
the world. But there is a transcendent nobility in G ândhî’s work— in lus
efforts for the uplift o f the depressed and for social reconciliation, in his
technique o f satyagraha, and in his concern to love his adversaries and change
their hearts through self-suffering. A b o v e all, in his successful appeals to
millions o f people he called upon their better natures and noblest impulses.
C H A PT ER XXIX
Modem Literature
by K r is h n a K r ip a l a n i
melodram atic elements in their plays than to any abiding literary merit. On
the other hand, Rabindranath T agore's plays, though they had considerable
literary merit and were marked by originality and depth o f thought, were too
sym bolic or ethereal to catch the popular imagination. A nd so he too failed
to create a firm tradition in this field, with the result that o f all literary forms
in modern Indian literature the drama remains the least developed.
Bengali had the advantage o f bearing the first impact o f the introduction of
English education and Western learning in India. Being a sensitive and emo
tional people, the Bengalis reacted to this with whole-hearted and passionate
warm th. But the general pattern o f literary resurgence was more or less the
same in al: Indian languages, each responding in its own manner,'some sooner
and som e later. In most o f them the early spade-work was done by Christian
missionaries, who helped to fashion the basic material on which the develop
ment o f prose was built. Gradual fertilization by English education and
literature was reinforced by the natural receptivity o f the Indian mind, with
its subconscious heritage o f a highly refined spiritual sensibility, to the liberal-
humanist tradition o f Western thought. Thus stimulated and further equipped
with the Western technique o f research, the Indian mind discovered anew, as
it were, the rich treasures o f its Sanskrit legacy. T h e earlier renaissance in Ben
gal not only invited emulation in other parts o f India but also generated a re
formist zeal and a new faith in Indian destiny. T h e life and w ork o f Ràjà
Ràm M ohan R o y, the M ahârshi Debendranâth Tâgore, K eshub Chandra
Sen, Râm akrishna Paramahamsa, and later Swàm î Yivekânanda and Sri
Aurobindo were sources o f inspiration to the whole o f India. N o wonder that
the early pioneers in almost all Indian literatures were also active social re
formers and men o f outstanding moral stature.
O f the numerous languages o f India perhaps M arathi was, after Bengali, tbe
most vigorous in its response to the spirit o f the new age, partly because o f its
robust intellectual tradition, reinforced by memories o f the erstwhile glory of
the M arâthà Empire, and partly because Bom bay, like Calcutta, provided a
cosmopolitan modern environment. Am ong the stalwarts w ho laid the
foundation o f its modern literature m ay be mentioned the poet Keshavsut,
the novelist Hari N âràyan Àpte, and Agarkàr, T ilak, and Chiplunkàr as the
builders o f prose. À p te’s novels stimulated the development o f the novel in
some other languages too, particularly in the neighbouring Kannada.
K irloskâr and D eval did for the M aràthi stage what Girischandra had done
for the Bengâlï.
N arm ad ’s poetry blazed the trail in. Gujarati, while Govardhanrâm ’s
Sarasuatichandra made a landm ark in G ujarâtî fiction. Hindi had to face the
difficult task o f cutting a new broad channel into which the waters o f its many
tributaries could flow and which could be perennially fed from tbe vast re
servoir- o f Sanskrit. This feat was performed by 'B hàratend u ’ Harischandra
and M ahàvïrprasâd Dwivedi.
The problem o f Urdfl was different. Its form , derived from the same basic
structure as Hindi, the common speech known as K han Boli, had been
standardized much earlier. Flourishing under court patronage, it had made
phenomenal progress and was the most important Indian language to prosper
in the eighteenth century. But it luxuriated in its own affluence and remained
Modem Literature 413
alo of from the vital currents that were sweeping the country forward in the
nineteenth century. It is not without a certain significance that its greatest
poet, G hâlib, was still com posing doleful— though magnificent— ghazals re
dolent o f Persian rose gardens when M ichael Madhusüdan, Bankim , and
Dinabandhu were cutting new paths for Indian literature.
The development o f modern Assamese and Oriyâ, the two eastern neigh
bours o f Bengali, was also late in com ing and was preceded by valuable spade
work done by the Christian missions. Assam was torn by civil strife in the
eighteenth century and was later under Burmese occupation until the British
annexed it in 1827. Orissâ too had been dismembered, and recovered its
homogeneous integrity in the present century. The intelligentsia in both the
regions were educated in Calcutta (which was for long the main educational
centre in eastern India) and carried back with them the impact o f the literary
resurgence in Bengal. Lakshm lkânta Bezbaruâ and Padm anâth G ohàin
Baruà in Assamese, and Fakirm ohan Senapati and Râdhànâth R ây in Oriyâ
were the early pioneers in their respective fields.
Kashm iri, Panjabi, and Sindhi had an even more retarded development,
partly on account o f the political conditions and partly because o f the cultural
glamour o f U rdu in regions predominantly Muslim. A ll the more credit to the
pioneers who held aloft the banner of their mother tongue when it hardly paid
to do so: M ahjùr and Master Z in d i K au l in Kashmiri, Sardâr Püran Singh
and Bhàï V lr Singh in Panjabi, and M lrza K alich Beg and Dew ân K aurom àl
in Sindhi.
W hat is surprising is the rather late and tardy resurgence in the fou r
Dravidian languages, which had had a longer and a richer literary past than
the northern languages as well as an earlier and closer contact with the
Christian missions. The past has weighed more heavily on the south than on
the north in India and nowhere more heavily than on Tam ilnadu. However, in
course o f time the creative spirit in these languages too responded to the im
pulse o f the age, in as rich a flowering as in the other languages o f India, led
by Puttanna, ‘ Sri’, and Kailàsham in Kannada, by Kerala V arm à and
Chandu M enon in M alayâlam , by Bhàrati and K a lk l in Tam il, and Vlresal-
ingam and Guruzâda A p p a R âo in Telugu. It is worth observing that the
youngest o f the Dravidian languages, M alayâlam , has responded to the new
age more dynam ically than the oldest, Tamil, which even now looks too
wistfully to the past.
M A IN T R E N D S
foreign domination, the clash o f loyalties has been sharper. The very impact
o f Western thought, with its emphasis on democracy and self-expression,
stimulated a nationalist consciousness which resented the foreign imposition
and searched for the roots o f self-respect and pride in its own heritage.
T agore’s novel Gorâ is a masterly interpretation o f this built-in conflict in the
very nature o f Indian renaissance, a conflict which still persists and has
coloured not only our literature but almost every aspect o f our life.
The first outstanding Bengali poet o f the nineteenth century (and the last in
the old tradition), Iswar Chandra Gupta (1812-59), whose remarkable
journal, Sanwâd Prabhâkar, was the training-ground o f many distinguished
writers and who wrote the first literary biographies o f his predecessor poets,
was a doughty champion o f the native heritage and poured hi^ biting ridicule
on everything that savoured o f the new, irrespective o f whether it was good or
bad. Even the great Bankim Chandra, him self a leading herald of-the new,
looked more and more wistfully to the past as he grew older. T ilak in M arathi
and Bharatl in Tam il were even m ore aggressive in their native pride and had
their counterparts in all Indian languages.
This pride in India’s past grew more lyrical under the stress o f political
aspirations and provided increasing fuel to the movement for national free
dom. W hilst it thus served a useful purpose, it had its unhealthy and-reac
tionary aspect in so far as it encouraged an exaggerated self-righteousness and
distorted the historical perspective. Even so chaste a spirit as M ahatm a
Gandhi could fall under its spell and uttter with passionate sincerity the dis
mal halfitm th that the British association had ruined India not only econo
m ically but intellectually, morally, and spiritually.
On the other hand, it is well to recall the testimony o f Romesh Chunder
D utt, the distinguished scholar and historian w ho was him self one o f the
builders o f the nineteenth-century renaissance, as recorded in the first edition
o f his The Literature o f Bengal, published in-1877.
The conquest of Bengal by the English [wrote India’s first modern historian] was not
only a political revolution but ushered in a greater revolution in thoughts and ideas,
in religion and society. We cannot describe the great change better than by stating
that English conquest and English education may be supposed to have removed
Bengal from the'moral atmosphere of Asia to that of Europe. A ll the great events
which have influenced European thought within the last one hundred years have
also told, however feeble their effect may be, on the formation of the intellect of
modem Bengal. The independence of America, the French Revolution, the war of
Italian independence, the teachings of history, the vigour and freedom of English
literature and English thought, the great effort of the French intellect in the eighteenth
century, the results o f Gentian labour in the field of philosophy and ancient history
— Positivism, Utilitarianism, Darwinism— all these have influenced and shaped the
intellect of modem Bengal,.In the same degree all the great influences which told on
the Bengali mind in previous centuries, the faith o f Krishna, the faith of-Chandi or
Kali, the preachings o f Chaitanya, the belief in the truth o f Hinduism and the
sacre'dnesspf the Shastras, the unquestioning obedience to despotic power in all its
phases, the faith in the divine right o f royalty and in the innate greatness o f princes
and princesses^-all these ancient habits and creeds have exercised feebler and yet
i -feebler influences on the modem Bengali intellect." In habits,- in tastes, in feeling,
.freedom and vigour and patriarchal institutions, our literature therefore has under
Modem Liter attire 415
gone a corresponding change. The classical Sanskrit taste has given place to the
European. From the stories of gods and goddesses, kings and queens, princes and
princesses, we have learned to descend to the humble walks o f life, to sympathise
with a common citizen or even a common peasant. From an admiration o f a sym
metrical uniformity we have descended to an appreciation of the strength and free
dom of individuality. From admiring the grandeur and glory o f the great we now
willingly turn to appreciate the liberty and resistance in the lowly.
than on others, much deeper, for instance, on Gujarati and H indi than on
Bengâlï. Gandhi transfigured the image o fln d ia and turned national idealism
from its futile adulation o f the past to face the reality o fln d ia as she was, poor,
starving, and helpless, but with an untapped potential o f unlimited possibili
ties.
Both Vivekânanda and Tàgore had said the same thing before, but it was
Gândhï more than anyone else w ho made this image vivid and real and gave
a new insight to the Indian intelligentsia, enlarging their sympathies and add
ing a new dimension to their im agination; Indian writers learnt to discover
their own country, not in ancient Banâras and M adurai but in the slums o f
Calcutta and Bom bay, and in the innumerable ‘ dunghills scattered over the
lan d ’, as Gandhi described the Indian villages in their poverty and squalor.
H e thus provided a powerful ethical stimulus to the literary tread, which had
already begun, from romanticism to realism, from thehighflow n and artificial
' literary ’ style to the vigour and raciness o f the spoken idiom. The M ahatm a’s
insistence on non-violence and on simplicity and purity in personal life
touched a responsive chord in the inherent idealism o f Indian thought and
thus served as an indirect inspiration to creative literature. His own em ploy
ment o f a simple and direct prose style, shorn o f all superfluous rhetoric,
was a very healthy corrective to the natural tendency to flam boyance in
Indian writing. This influence was particularly fruitful in Gujarati, in which
language he wrote. In Bengali the crispness o f the colloquial speech had al
ready achieved a literary status in the writings o f Tagore and Pramatha
Chaudhury.
The eminent Hindi novelist Premchand has described in an autobiographical
essay how, inspired by the M ahatm a, he resigned from governm ent service
and settled down in a village to see life in the raw and to write about it. His
later career as the foremost Urdu and Hindi nos'elist, his im aginative insight
into the life o f the common folk, particularly in the villages, and his simple
and direct delineation o f it formed a major influence on m any o f his contem
poraries and reflect the impact o f Gandhi on modern Indian literature. Am ong
other writers o f note who responded to this impact, each in his own fashion,
m ay be mentioned the gifted G upta brothers, M aithilisharan and Siyârâm-
sharan, as well as Jainendra K um âr in Hindi, K à kà K âlelkàr and Umâshan-
kar Josbl in Gujarati, M àm à W àrerkâr in M arathi, Mllmani Phookan in
Assam ese, Kàlindîcharan Pànigrâhl in Oriyâ, Annadàshankar.Rây in Bengâlï,
Bhàrati in Tam il, Yallathol in M alayâlam , and m any m ore in these and other
languages.
The influence o f the philosophy o ftirl Aurobindo is also noticeable among
some writers, like the K annada poets, Bendre and Puttappa, and the G ujaràtl
poets, Sundaram and Jayant Parekb, but beyond im parting a certain mystic
glow to their verse and confirming their faith in the reality o f the Indian
spiritual experience, it has not given any new trend or horizon to Indian
literature in general.
The eruption o f Marxism in the early 1930s is a phenomenon which India
shares w ith many other countries. The infection caught by Indian literature
was, however, neither virulent nor on the whole unhealthy. G ân d h ï.had al
ready given a new orientation to the popular imagination by looking for God,
Modem Literature 417
not in the temple but in the daridra-nârâyana, the hungry outcaste. This moral
vaccination had a twofold reaction : on the one hand, ethical sensibility moved
leftwards and it became almost virtuous to be radical; on the other hand, class
hatred was softened i f not rendered com paratively innocuous. This would ex
plain how a V allathol could invoke Lenin with as much gusto as the lyrical
fervour with which he sang o f M ary Magdalene and Gàndhï, and why
Premchand, w ho ended his autobiographical testament with an affirmation o f
the Vaishnava faith that not a blade o f grass stirs but as G od wills it, came to
be hailed by the ‘ Progressives’ as the G orky o fln d ia . On the other side is the
example o f the works o f Bengali writers with professed M arxist leanings—
M anek B andyopâdhyây’s Putul Nâcher Itikathâ is a fine illustration— w ho are
not ashamed to delineate bourgeois types in their fiction with real sym pathy
and understanding. ‘ Progressive’ writers in U rdù and Panjabi, w ho are a
dominant influence in these literatures, are less sensitive, and indulge with
naive gusto in m ockery and hatred. They m ake up for this lack o f sensibility,
however, with an added dash o f virility.
The literary impact o f the current explosion, in Bengal, in K erala, and in
some other parts o f India, o f class hatred and violence, and o f an organized
campaign to desecrate and destroy all vestiges o f inherited cultural values in
the name o f a M aoist ‘ cultural revolution’ , is a phenomenon too recent for a
proper assessment. T o some extent this rebellious and desperate mood is part
o f a world-wide eruption. H ow far it will turn out to be a lasting or vital
literary inspiration it is hard to predict. A lready its excesses are causing a
general revulsion.
Freud, like the Vedas, is hardly ever read by Indian writers, but as the
pious justify every folly in the name o f scripture, so there is no dearth o f
writers who imagine that they are probing the depths o f the human psyche by
smelling sex everywhere. Nevertheless, the impact o f Freud, however naïvely
interpreted, has helped to loosen m any inhibitions from which the earlier
writers, brought up in the climate o f nineteenth-century puritanism, had
suffered. The traditional Hindu altitude to sex was healthy and unashamed, as
can be seen in V àtsyàyana’s classic, the Kâmasûtra. Even medieval devotional
poetry such as that o f Jayadeva and Vidyàpati revelled in a voluptuous sym
bolism which modern orthodox scholarship would gladly slur over. But the
influence o f Victorian England and Brâhm o reformism, reinforced by the
puritan fervour o f Gândhism , had overlaid the Indian consciousness with a
complex o f inhibitions which it needed the prestige o f scientific psycho
analysis to break through. Having lost the honest indigenous tradition we are
obliged to borrow the Western technique which, however ‘ scientific’, is so
crude that the modern gloating over sex is invariably accompanied by a sense
o f guilt, if it is secret, and by a sense o f bravado, i f it is brazen. W hat was a
means o f legitimate enjoymeDt to the ancients has become a source o f morbid
excitement to the moderns.
T o these two foreign and non-literary stimuli, Marxist dialectics and
Freudian probings, must be added a literary one proper, though equally an
importation, namely the new formalist experiments which have achieved both
popularity and prestige in the West. These experiments, known under various
high-sounding names associated with such writers as Ezra Pound, T . S. Eliot,
41 8 Modem Literature
James Joyce, Jean-Paul Sartre, and others, are mainly in form and technique
and have little to do with any particular faith or ideology, although they may
reflect a significant mental attitude. A writer m ay be very daring in form but
conservative or even reactionary in religious or political faith, or vice versa.
Bishnu D e and Buddhadeva Bose in Bengali, Ajneya and Shamsher Bahadur
in Hindi, M ardhekâr and Vinda K ârandikâr in Marathi, and a host o f other
parallels in Indian languages share a common iconoclastic zeal in form but
are faithful to their respective orthodoxies in faith.
On the whole, the im pact on Indian writing o f the mixed interaction o f these
three imported influences has been a salutary one, despite some wild aberra*
tiens. It has given a much-needed jolt to the smugness o f the traditional
attitude, with its age-old tendency to sentimental piety and glorification o f the
past. The revolt began in Bengal, although Bengal was already the hom e o f
unorthodoxy in literary form, Tâgore and his contemporaries, having long
blasted ‘ the castle o f conform ism ’ . Blit the adulation o fT â go re was itself be
com ing an orthodoxy, which provoked in the early 1920s a group o f young
gifted writers known as the K allo l group to proclaim their revolt. The revolt
o f the new, as Tâgore pointed out, is very often its audacity only, and these
writers soon discovered that Tâgore could outmodem them \vhenever he
cared to. Nevertheless, the revolt yielded a rich harvest, in both poetry and
prose, in the work o f Jivanânanda D âs, Premendra Mitra, Buddhadeva Bose,
M anek Bandyopâdhyây, Subhâs M ukhopâdhyây, and others. This movement
has been paralleled in alrhost all Indian languages and has been particularly
fruitful in the lyric and its counterpart in prose, the short story. W hile valiant
champions o f the older tradition have continued to hold their own, like
V isw anadha Satyanârâyana in Telugu, M ahàdevi Varm â in Hindi, and many
more in the various languages, it is the spirit o f nonconformism that gives
variety and colour to much o f modern writing in India. The'contem porary
literary output, particularly in poetry and fiction, is both lively and volum -
nous, and its quality— in the work o f the more mature writers— is distinguished
and m ay well stand com parison with similar w ork published anywhere outside
India.
B ut poetry hardly suits the temper o f the modern industrial society and if it
continues to be written in India in such profusion and with such exuberance,
it is partly because the tradition o f poetry being sung or chanted is very old
and deep-rooted there, and partly because a certain prestige clings to poetry
as ‘ purer’ literature than any other. Even so, poetry as a form o f narrative has
lost its ancient vogue and has willy-nilly yielded the place o f honour to the
novel and the short story, which are today the most popular as well as the
best cultivated forms o f literature. In Bengal both these forms attained an
early maturity in the hands o fT â g o re and have since made phenomenal pro
gress, under his younger contemporaries and successors, among whom Sa rat
Chandra Chatterjee achieved a popularity, both in Bengal and outside, which,
equalled, if not surpassed, that o f Tâgore. Though not so spectacularly
popular, the novels and stories o f Bibhüti Bhüshan Bannerji (whose Father
Panchâli in its screen version has since received wide publicity), Târâshankar
Bannerji, M anek Bandyopâdhyây, Satinâth Bhâdurî, ‘ B onophûl’, A chintya
Sengupta, Prabodh Sanyal, and many have maintained a high standard.
Modem Literature 419
Whether the treatment is romantic, realistic; or impressionist, whether the ex
ploration is historical, regional, tribal, or psychological, the bias M arxian or
Freudian, they have continued the tradition o f humanism and o f sym pathy for
the fallen bequeathed by Tâgore and Sarat Chandra.
Am ong notable contemporaries in other Indian languages who have
handled the art o f fiction with originality and skill may be mentioned Biren
Bhattâchàrya and A b d u l M alik in Assamese, Pannalàl Patel and D arshak in
Gujarâtï, Jainendra K u m âr and Yashpàl in Hindi, M asti and Karanth in
Kannada, A khtar M ohiuddin and S u fi G hulâm M oham m ad in Kashm iri,
Thakazhi (whose Chemmin has been published in several foreign editions)
and Bashir in M alayâlam , Khandekàr and G adgil in M aràthï, the M ohan ty
brothers in Oriyâ, N àn ak Singh and D uggal in Panjabi, M i. Pa. Som asunda-
ram and Kn. N a. Subramanyam in Tam il, Bâpirâju and Padm arâju in Telugu,
and Kishan Chunder and Bedi in U rdu. These names are m erely illustrative
and can be matched by many more. They represent not only a m edley o f
techniques and attitudes but also uneven levels o f creative achievem ent and
conflicting trends. But India is a land o f contrasts, not only econom ically but
culturally as well.
The position o f Sanskrit itself is an apt illustration. Deemed a ‘ d ea d ’
language because it is no longer a spoken tongue, it is nevertheless n ot only
a very vital source-language on which almost all Indian languages, except
Urdu, draw for their vocabulary, but also a living fount o f literary inspiration
to Indian writers, an honour rivalled only by English. Perhaps there has not
been a single writer o f outstanding distinction in the modern period (Urdù
writers excepted) w ho has not drawn freely on the wealth o f both Sanskrit and
English literatures, though some have taken more from the one than the
other. Some ultra-modem s, like Sudhîn D atta in Bengali, are indeed a
curious complex o f Sanskrit, Baudelaire, and Eliot, as some leftists like
Râhula Sankrityàyana are o f Sanskrit, Tibetan, and M arx. But even apart
from its significant role in the development o f modern Indian literature
Sanskrit continues to be used as a literary vehicle, both for scholarly research
and for creative writing, as can be testified by a large number o f books and
journals published in Sanskrit annually. N o t only m any modern Indian
writers like Bankira, Tâgore, and Sarat Chandra have been translated into
Sanskrit but Shakespeare and G oethe also.
The position o f English is in some respects unique in India. On the one
hand it is resented by the ultra- nationalist sentiment as a relic o f erstwhile
foreign imposition and is allowed to continue officially on sufferance; on the
other it is still the main medium o f higher education in most o f the universi
ties, especially in the sciences and technology which are the backbone o f
modern education, and the one link am ong the intelligentsia all over India.
The fact that Jawaharlal Nehrû when he was the Prime M inister o fln d ia and
D r. S. Ràdhâkrishnan the then President o f India could converse with each
other in English only and employed it as their main literary vehicle, as also the
fact that the collected w orks o f M ahatm a G ândhï ate being published (under
the auspices o f the Governm ent o f India) in English are themselves a com
mentary on the current usefulness o f this language in India as ‘ a link
language’, to quote Jawàharlâl NehrQ’s description o f it in the Indian
420 M odem Literature
T HE W A R A N D I N D E P E N D E N C E
The last great war, which nearly shook the foundations o f the modern
world, had little impact on Indian literature beyond aggravating the popular
revulsion against violence and adding to the growing disillusionment with the
‘ humane pretensions’ o f the Western world. This was eloquently voiced in
T agore’s later poems and his last testament, Crisis in Civilization. The Indian
intelligentsia was in a state o f moral dilemma. On the one hand, it could not
help sympathizing with England’s dogged courage in the hour o f peril, with
the Russians fighting with their backs to the wall against the ruthless N azi
hordes, and with China groaning under the heel o f Japanese militarism; on
the other hand, their own country was practically under military occupation
by the ver)' people who were resisting such occupation o f their own soil, and
an Indian army under Subhâs Bose was trying from the opposite camp to
liberate their country. N o creative impulse could issue from such confusion o f
loyalties.
One would imagine that the achievement o f Indian independence in 1947,
which came in the wake o f the Allies’ victory and was followed by the collapse
o f colonialism in the neighbouring countries o f South-East Asia, would have
released an upsurge o f creative energy. N o doubt it did, but unfortunately it
was soon submerged in the great agony o f the partition, with its inhuman
slaughter o f the innocents and the uprooting o f millions o f people from their
homeland, followed by the martyrdom o f M ahàtm à Gandhi. These tragedies,
along with Pakistan’s invasion o f Kashm ir and its more recent activities in
422 Modern Literature
I N D IA A N D T H E W O R L D O U T S I D E
CH A PTER XXX
The most startling o f the theories o f Pythagoras was that o f the transm igration
o f the soul from body to body. Herodotus traces this to Egypt.
T h e E g y p t i a n s [h e s a y s ] w e r e t h e f ir s t t o b r o a c h t h e o p i n i o n t h a t th e s o u l is i m
m o r t a l , a n d t h a t , w h e n th e b o d y d ie s , it e n t e r s i n t o t h e f o r m o f a n a n i m a l w h i c h is
b o r n a t th e m o m e n t , t h e n c e p a s s i n g o n f r o m o n e a n i m a l t o a n o t h e r , u n t i l it h a s
c i r c l e d t h r o u g h th e f o r m s o f a l l t h e c r e a t u r e s w h i c h t e n a n t t h e l a n d , th e w a t e r a n d
t h e a i r , a f t e r w h i c h it e n t e r s a g a i n i n t o a h u m a n f r a m e , a n d is b o r n a n e w . T h e w h o l e
p e r io d o f th e t r a n s m i g r a t i o n is ( t h e y s a y ) th r e e t h o u s a n d y e a r s . T h e r e a r e G r e e k
w r it e r s , s o m e o f a n e a r lie r , s o m e o f a l a t e r d a t e , w h o h a v e b o r r o w e d t h is d o c t r i n e f r o m
t h e E g y p t i a n s , a n d p u t it f o r w a r d a s t h e ir own.-*
H erodotus, like Plato and others, attributes all wisdom to Egyptian sources,
as was only natural. The Greeks were deeply impressed by the great antiquity
o f Egyptian civilization, its lofty temples, and its closely guarded religious
mysteries. ‘ Omne ignoturn pro magnifico.’ U nfortunately, it is. extrem ely
doubtful whether the Egyptians did actually believfe in transm igration, and it
is probable that the Greeks were misled by the paintings on the tombs de
picting the tribunal o f Osiris, which they did not jiroperly understand. It is
more likely that Pythagoras was influenced by India than by Egypt. Alm ost
all the theories, religious, philosophical, and m athem atical, taught by the
Pythagoreans, were known in India in the sixth ceiltury b . c ., and the Pythag-
'oreans, like the Jains and Buddhists, refrained from the destruction o f life and
eating meat, and regarded certain vegetables, such as beans, as taboo.
The theory o f metempsychosis plays almost as great a part in G reek as in
Indian religious thought. Both Pytbagoras and Empedocles claimed to possess
3 T . G o m p e r lz , Greek Thinkers, L o n d o n , 1 9 0 1 . V o l. [ , p . 1 2 7 .
< H e ro d o tu s ii. 12 3 . C o m p a r e C ic e r o , Tnsc. Disp. i. 16.
428 Early Contacts between India and Europe
formed io the body o f Zeus, after he had swallowed Phanes, the offspring o f
the great ’ W orld E gg’ , in whom all the seeds o f things arc present. Thus the
world is the body o f G o d : the heavens are his head, the sun and m óon his
eyes, and the ether his mind. In the same way, we arc told in the tenth b ook o f
the Institutes o f Manu how the Supreme Soul produced by a thought a G olden
Egg (Brahmânda) from which he was born as Brahm a. T he resemblance
between the two legends is too close to be accidental. The doctrine o f
Xenophanes (570 b . c . ) , that G od is the eternal.U nity, permeating the uni
versal and governing it by His thought, occurs tim e after time in post-Vedic
Hindu literature. Empedocles, besides believing in transmigration, holds a
number o f tenets which are curiously like those o f K apila, the author o f the
Sânkhya system. K apila traces the evolution o f the material world to primeval
matter, which is acted upon by the three ‘ qualities’ or gttnas, i.e. saliva, rajas,
and lamas, lightness, activity, and heaviness. Empedocles looks on m atter as
consisting o f the four elements, earth, water, air, and fire, acted upon by the
motive forces o f love and hate.
Attention has been called to the resemblance between the Hindu varnas or
classes, brâhmans, kshatriyas or warriors, vaiéyas or merchants, and Südras,
and the division of the ideal polity in Plato’s Republic into Guardians,
Auxiliaries, and Craftsmen.7 The story that Socrates proposes to tell about
their divine origin, in order that the system m ay be perpetuated, ’ otherwise
the state will certainly •perish’ , is curiously like the V edic myth about the
origin o f the four classes from the mouth, arms, thighs, and feet o f Purusha,
the Primeval M an.8 A re these mere coincidences? Eusebius preserves a tra d i-
tion, which he attributes to a contem porary, the well-known writer on har
monics Aristoxenus, that certain learned Indians actually visited Athens and
conversed with Socrates. T hey asked him to explain the object o f his philo
sophy, and when he replied, ‘ an inquiry into human affairs’, one o f the Indians
.burst out laughing. ‘ H o w ’ , he asked, ‘ could a man grasp human things
without first mastering the D ivin e? ’ 9 If Eusebius is to be believed, we must re
vise many o f our preconceived notions about early intercourse between the
two countries.
Greece and India, however, were destined to be brought into yet closer and
more direct contact. The older G reek states were exclusive in their outlook.
T o them, all.non-Greeks were barbarians, and it needed some great shock to
break down the barriers dividing them from the outer world. Th is was pro
vided by Alexander the G reat, him self only half-Greek, but w holly inspired by
the Greek spirit o f inquiry. When he set out on his famous expedition to the
East it was as an explorer as well as a conqueror: on his staff were a number
o f trained historians and scientists. In the spring o f 326 b . c . , the'M acedonian
hoplites, having marched half-way across A sia, entered the defiles o f the
Hindü K ush and found themselves in the fertile plains o f the Panjâb.
Alexander’s first halt was at the great city o f T axila, where for the first time
the civilizations o f East and West found themselves directly confronted.
Taxila was o f special interest for the scientists in Alexander's train, as being
one o f the leading seats o f Hindu learning, where crowds o f pupils, sons o f
7 B . J. U r w ic k , The Message o f Plato, L o n d o n , 1920.
1 Republic, B o o k iii; Rig Veda, x . 90. • E u s e b iu s , Praep. Evang. x i. 3.
430 Early Contacts between India and Europe
•princes and wealthy brâhmans, resorted to study ‘ the three Vedas and eighteen
accomplishments A fter defeating the Hindu prince Porus on the banks o f the
Hydaspes (Jhelum), Alexander travelled down the Indus to its mouth, estab
lishing fortified posts or ‘ colonies’ at strategic points, and turned his face
westwards in October 325 B.C. In June 323 he died o f fever at Babylon.
The actual effect o f Alexander’s invasion o f India was negligible, and no
mention o f the event occurs in ancient Indian literature. Alexander’s Indian
campaign lived on in the romance o f Alexander which goes back to Pseudo-
Callisthenes, and adaptations o f which existed in more than thirty languages
o f medieval Europe and A sia M inor.10 This Indian episode has always been
subject to fantastic figuration. In Jean R acine’s drama, Alexander falls in love
with the Indian Princess Cléophile, for instance. After Alexander’s death, the
empire which he had founded quickly dissolved, and by 317 b . c . nearly all
traces o f Greek rule had vanished. But Alexander had broken down the wall
o f separation between East and West, and the contact thus made was never
again totally lost.
A bout the time o f Alexander’s death, a new ruler, Chandragupta M aurya,
had established him self in the Ganges valley, and he quickly extended his
empire to the Panjâb. He was so successful that when, in-305 b . c ., Seleucus
N icator tried to repeat his predecessor’s exploits, he was defeated and glad to
come to terms. A n alliance was form ed and cemented by a marriage between
the Indian king (or a member o f his family) and a Greek princess. This was
the beginning o f a long, intimate, and fruitful intercourse between the Greek
and Indian courts, which was continued by Chandragupta’s son and grand
son, Bindusâra and ASoka. Am bassadors from the Greek monarchs o f the
W est resided at Pàtaliputra, the M auryan capital. The most important o f these
was Megasthenes, who wrote a detailed account o f Chandragupta’s empire,
much o f which has been preserved." Megasthenes was greatly impressed by
the resemblance between Greek and Indian philosophy. '
I n m a n y p o in t s [h e s a y s ] th e ir t e a c h i n g a g r e e s w i t h t h a t o f th e G r e e k s — f o r in
s t a n c e , t h a t th e w o r l d h a s a b e g in n in g a n d a n e n d in t im e , th a t it s s h a p e is s p h e r i c a l ;
t h a t t h e D e i t y , w h o is it s G o v e r n o r a n d M a k e r , in te r p e n e t r a t e s t h e w h o l e . . . . A b o u t
g e n e r a t io n a n d th e s o u l t h e ir t e a c h in g s h e w s p a r a lle l s t o t h e G r e e k d o c t r in e s , a n d o n
m a n y o t h e r m a t t e r s . L i k e P l a t o , t o o , t h e y i n t e r w e a v e f a b le s a b o u t th e im ç n o r t a lit y
o f th e s o u l a n d .th e j u d g e m e n t s in d ic t e d in t h e o t h e r w o r l d , a n d s o o m "
,J Am ong recent books on ASoka cf. P. H . L . Eggermont, The Chronology o f the Reign o f
Asoka Moriya, Leiden, 1956; R . Thapar, Aioka and the Decline o f the Mauryas, Oxford,
1961.
14 Cambridge History o f India, Vol. 1, pp. 432 II.
4^2 Early Contacts between India and Europe
15 Stromata, i. i j . M cCrindle quotes other passages from other Alexandrian divines re
ferring to Buddha, which show that Alexandrians must have been well acquainted with him
and his leaching by the third century a .d . (Ancien/ India, pp. 184 ff.). They were greatly im
pressed with the story o f the Immaculate Conception o f Queen M àyà.
“ ‘ Coincidences’, in t a s i Essays, tst Ser. (1901), p. 230. Gifford Lectures (1890), ii. 390.
Early Contacts between India and Europe 437
the forms of polytheism. The ancient religion of Persia contributed to the ferment of
human thought, excited by improved facilities for international communication, and
by the incessant clash o f rival civilizations.17
It is possible that the rosary, the veneration o f relics, and the exaggerated
forms o f asceticism which were such a striking feature o f Alexandrian
Christianity, m ay be traced to Indian sources. When the French missionary
travellers, Hue and Gabet, visited Lhasa in 18 42, they were deeply shocked at
the close resemblance between C atholic and Lam aistic ritual.
T h e crozier, the mitre, and chasuble, the card in al's r o b e ,. . . tbe d o ub le ch o ir at the
D iv in e Office, the chants, the exorcism , the censor w ith five chains, th e blessing
w h ich th e L a m a s im part b y extending the right hand o v e r the heads o f the faithful,
the rosary, the celibacy o f the clergy, their separation fro m the w orld, the w orship o f
saints, the fasts, processions, litanies, h o ly w ater— these are the poin ts o f con ta ct
w h ich the Buddhists h ave w ith us.
M ax M üller traces these to the contact between Tibetan and Nestorian monks
in China between a . d . 635 and 8 4 1, when both were suppressed. A t the famous
monastery o f Hsian-Fu they actually collaborated.
Gnosticism was a deliberate effort to fuse Christian, Platonic, and Oriental
ideas at a time when syncretism was particularly fashionable at Alexandria.
Gnosticism has been described as 'Orientalism in a Hellenic m ask’. The great
Gnostic teacher Basilides, a Hellenized Egyptian who was a contemporary o f
Hadrian ( a . d . 1 1 7 -3 8 ), definitely borrowed his philosophy from the wisdom
o f the East, which he interwove in an ingenious fashion into the fram ework o f
Christianity. L ike Buddha, he was a pessimist. ‘ Pain and fear are inherent in
human affairs.’ He had a remarkable explanation o f the reason why G od per
mitted His saints to suffer martyrdom, which is evidently based on the
Buddhist doctrine o f karma. 'T h e theory o f Basilides’, says Clement, 'is that
the soul has previously sinned in another life (irpò rrja&t ri)s ivoatpardiotws),
and endures its punishment here, the elect with the honour o f martyrdom, and
the rest purified by appropriate punishment.’ Basilides was a firm believer in
transmigration, and cited texts such as John 9 : 2 and Romans 7 : 9 in support.
Basilides’ theory o f personality has strong Buddhist affinities. The soul is
without qualities, but the passions, like the Buddhist skandhas, attach them
selves to it as appendages or ‘ parasites’ (irpooaprqpaTa). G od is unpredicable,
almost non-existent- (où/c wv 8t6s), and the divine entity o f Jesus at death alone
passed into N irvana (ùncpKoofiîd).1*
After many vicissitudes Alexandria as a centre o f learning came to an end in
a . d . 642. But the Arabs were far from being mere vandals, and schools arose
in Baghdad, Cairo, and Cordova, which rivalled the glories o f the civilization
which they superseded. Baghdad, founded in a .d . 76 2 , occupied a commanding
position on the overland route between India and Europe. It was frequented
by G reek and Hindu merchants. The ‘Abbâsids, like the Sàsânians, were
great patrons o f literature, and had foreign w orks translated into A rabic.
Baghdad remained the great clearing-house for Eastern and Western culture
until its destruction by the M ongols in a . d . 12 58 . During the D ark A ges it
was the Arab's who kept the torch o f learning alight, when Rom e had perished
and Europe was still plunged in barbarism. The Arabs had little indigenous
culture, and much o f their learning was borrowed from Hindu or Greek
sources. The widespread diffusion o f the A rabic language, however, made it
an excellent medium for the transmission o f ideas from Asia to Europe.
A ra b ic travellers and scholars like Albîrünl were strongly attracted by Hindu
civilization, and transmitted it to the West. A lbîrûnï is particularly important
in this respect. Born in a . d . 973, he accompanied Sultan Mahmüd o f Ghazni
to India, learnt Sanskrit, and read the Hindu classics, the Puranas, and the
Bhagavad Gitâ. H e was acquainted, we are told, with ‘ astronom y, mathe
matics, chronology, mathematical geography, physics, chemistry, and
m ineralogy1.
One curious result was that m any ideas, which were originally borrowed by
India from the West, fòtmd their w ay b ack to Europe in an A ra b ic guise.
Three typical exam ples'are provided by Arabian astronom y, mathematics,
and medicine.1* Hindu astronomers freely acknowledge their indebtedness to
Alexandria. One o f the principal Sanskrit astronomical treatises was the
Romaka Siddhânta or Rom an manual. Another, the Paulisa Siddhânta, was
based on the works o f Paul o f Alexandria ( a . d . 378). The Sanskrit names for
the signs ó f the-Zodiac, and other astronomical terms, are o f G reek origin.
These Sanskrit treatises were later translated into Arabic, and from A rabic
into Latin. M uch the same happened in the case o f Hindu mathematics,
though the question is too technical to be discussed here. T h e medical works
o f Charaka and SuSruta may have been somewhat influenced by Hippocrates
and Galen, and if, as is usually stated, C haraka w a s'cou rt physician to
K anishka, this is easily explicable. T hey had a marked influence on A rabic
medical writers like Avicenna, whose works, in Latin translations, were the
standard authorities in medieval Europe. The game o f chess found its way
from India to Europe through the Arabs, perhaps at the time o f the Crusaders.
It is first mentioned by the Sanskrit novelist Bàna, about a . d . 625: its Sanskrit
name is chaturanga, the ‘ four arm s’ o f the Hindu army. In Persian this be
comes shatranj. .Many o f its terms, such as ‘ checkm ate1 (shâh mât, the king is
dead), and ‘ ro o k 1 (rtikh) are o f Persian origin.
The East is the home o f fables, and some o f the oldest folk-stories, which a're
woven into the very web o f European literature, m ay be traced to those great
Indian collections o f tales, the Buddhist Jâtakas or Birth-stories, the Pancha-
tantra, and the Hitopadesa or B ook o f Useful Counsels.3* Some o f thèse tales
reached the W est at a very early date. The story o f the Judgement o f Solomon
is an excellent example. In thé Buddhist version the two women are ordered
to try to-pull the child away from one another by main force. The child cries
out, and one o f the women at once lets go, whereupon the wise judge awards
him to her, as the true jjiother.31 It is impossible not to wonder whether this
story m ay not have reached Judaea along with the ivory, apes, and peacocks
from Ophir. M any o f these folk-stories are tales o f talking beasts, and appear
19 See Macdonell, bidia's Past, pp. 175-93.
39 See M ax Müller, ‘ On the Migration o f Fabtes’, in Chips from a German Workshop, iv.
412. Selected Essays, i. 500. ’
31 Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories, i, xiii, xliv.
Early Contacts between India and Europe 439
on Buddhist sculpture at Bhârhut and Sanchi, and later in G andhâra. They
began to find their w ay to Asia M inor as far b ack as the sixth century b . c ., and
the earliest Greek version was attributed to Aesop, w ho was said to have
lived at the Court o f Croesus o f Lydia. Some o f them, as we have seen, appear
in Herodotus. There is a reference to the fable o f the ass in the lion’s skin in
Plato's Cratylus (411 A ). A collection, o f ‘ A esop’ s ’ fables was made in Latin
by Phaedrus in the time o f Tiberius, and by Babrius in G reek at Alexandria
about A.D . 200.
One o f the most famous o f all the old Indian story-books is the 'Seven ty
Tales o f a P arrot’ (Sukasaptati). This was several times translated into
Persian under the name o f Tûtïnâmeh, and through it many Indian stories
found their way into Europe, the best-known, perhaps, being the tale o f the
fraudulent ordeal, made famous in Gottfried von Strassburg’s Tristan and
Isolde.*1 Another source through which many Indian motifs reached medieval
Europe was the Arabian Nights. M as'üdi, the ‘ Arabian H erodotus’, writing
at Basra about A . d . 950, says that this great collection contains Persian, G reek,
and Hindu tales, and it was no doubt put together in the first instance at
Baghdad, perhaps shortly after the reign o f Hàrûn al-Rashïd, to w hom so
many o f the tales allude. The best-known ó f the stories, that o f Sindbad the
Sailor, is o f Hindu origin, and contains may Indian references.33 One o f the
best-known o f the stories which found its w ay from the Arabian Nights to
Europe is that o f the Ebony Horse, which appears in Chaucer’s Squire’s
Tale.3* Another collection o f Indian fables, the Panchatantra, was made and
rendered into Pehlevi in the sixth century a . d ., by order o f the Sâsânian K in g
Anushìrvàn, and from Pehlevi into A rabic by the Caliph al-M ansür ( a . d , 753—
84). Their A rabic and Syriac title, Kalilah wa Dimnah, is apparently derived
from the two jackals, K arataka and D am anaka, who play a leading part in
them. These stories were translated into Persian, Syriac, Latin, Hebrew, and
Spanish. A Germ an version, made in 148.1, was one o f the earliest printed
books. In the next century they were turned into Italian, and from Italian into
English by Sir Thom as N orth, the translator o f Plutarch, and in this guise
were probably known to Shakespeare. In Europe they were know n as the
Fables ofP ilp ay, Pilpay being probably a corruption ofB id yàpat or V idyàpati,
‘ M aster o f W isd om ’, a wise brâhman who plays a leading part in them. La
Fontaine made use o f the fables o f the ‘ Indian sage P ilp a y ’.
That the migration o f fables was originally frorA East to W est, and not vice
versa, is shown by the fact that the animals and birds w ho play the leading
parts, the lion, the jackal, the elephant, and the peacock, are mostly Indian
ones. In the European versions the jack al becomes the fo x : the relation
between the lion and the jackal is a natural one, whereas that between the lion
and fox is not. This change in the species o f the animals in the course o f the
wandering o f the fables is very instructive. T ake, for instance, the well-known
31 Macdonell, India’s Past, p. 128. ,
» Ibid., p. 129. Macdonell is confident that the Arabian Nights was originally composed
by a Persian poet imitating Indian originals. The framework, as well as a large number of
the stories, is o f Indian origin.
” Burton says that the story of the Ebony Horse originated in a Hindu story o f a wooden
Garttiia. It came from India via Persia, Egypt, and Spain to France (Le Cheval de Fust) and
thence to Chaucer’s cars.
440 Early Contacts between India and Europe
Welsh story o f Llewellyn and Gelert. The Father comes home and is greeted by
his hound, which he had left to guard his infant daughter. Its jaws are covered
with blood and, thinking it has killed the child, he slays it. Then he finds the
child asleep in her cradle, safe and sound, a dead w o lf by her side. In the
original tale in the Ppnchatantra, a mongoose and a cobra play the part o f the
dog and wolf. Again, in La Fontaine’s fable, a girl carrying a pail o f m ilk (in
some versions, a basket o f eggs) on her head, builds ‘ castles in the a ir ’ about
what she is going to do with the proceeds o f selling it. She becomes so absorbed
that she drops her burden. In the original, a brahman whose begging-bowl has
been filled with boiled rice dreams o f the profits he will m ake when a famine
breaks out and he sells it. In his sleep he kicks the bowl over and the contents
are spilt. The ' beast-story’ has been revived in a delightful manner in
Rudyard K iplin g’s Jungle Books.
Numerous European fairy-stories, to be found in Grimm or Hans Andersen,
about the magic mirror, the seven-leagued boots, Jack and the beanstalk,
and the purse o f Fortunatus, have been traced to Indian sources. M any o f
them are found in the Gesta Ronianorum, the Decameron, and Chaucer’s
Canterbury Tales. The Pardoner's Tale is derived ultimately from a story in
the Vedabbha Jâtaka, One o f the most interesting examples o f the migration
o f a tale is provided by the famous story o f Barlaam and Josaphat.35 This is
the edifying history o f the young Christian prince Josaphat, who is so moved
by various distressing sights which he encounters, that he renounces the world
and becomes an ascetic. It was written in Greek by John o f Dam ascus in the
eighth century a.d. From Greek it was translated into A rabic at the C ou rt of
the Caliph al-M ansür, and from A rabic into a number o f European languages.
In the M iddle Ages it was immensely popular, and in the sixteenth century
Josaphat actually became a Christian saint! This is extremely interesting, as it
is now evident that Josaphat is the Bodhisat or Bodhisattva, and the story is
nothing more or less than that o f the Great Renunciation o f G autam a Buddha,
as narrated in theLalita Vistara. It is adorned with numerous apologues. One
o f them is the story o f the Three Caskets, which was utilized by Shakespeare
in the Merchant o f Venice. Another story in. the Merchant o f Venice, that o f
the Pound o f Flesh, is also o f Buddhist origin, though it does not appear to
be clear by what channel it came to Shakespeare’s knowledge.
The classical accounts remained the main source on India, and it is through
them that references to India came into medieval epics like the Dioina Com
media and Parzival. In the latter, India is called ‘ T rib alib ot’ , which is a play
on the Latin word Paiibothri (the inhabitants o f Pàtaliputra).36 N ew contacts
with the. Orient were established through the Crusades and A rabic rule in
Spain, but they Only led to fantastic exaggerations such as can be seen in
romances like Herzog Ernst. India lies at the end o f the world, and to have
been to India becomes, pars pro loto, to have seen the whole world, Thom as
33 The text and translation are in (he Locb Classics. See M ax Müller, Selected Essays,
i. 500; F . Jacobs, Barlaam and Josaphat (1896); E. Kuhn, Barlaam und Josaphat, Abhand-
lungen der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, Munich, 1894. A n extensive biblio
graphy on this subject is given by H. Peri (Pflaum) in A d a Salamanticensia, Vol. 14, No. 3,
Salamanca, 1959.
34 F. Wilhelm, ‘ Die Entdeckung der indischcn Oeschichte’,' Saeculum, xv/t, Freiburg,
19 6 4 , p . 30 ff.
Early Contacts between India and Europe 441
M ore obviously made use o f Indian motifs in his Utopia.31 There are striking
coincidences in medieval thought between Sankara’s Vedànta and the mystic
ism o f M eister E ckart; and parallels in the field o f fine arts: Indian mandaias
and the symbolism o f the knot’Jbave their Western counterparts.38 However, as
long as w e have no conclusive p ro o f o f Indian influence w e should always
keep in mind that such convergences can be the result o f similar spiritual
attitudes.
” J. Duncan M . Derrett, ‘ Thomas M ore and Joseph Ihc Indian’, Journal o f the Royal
Asiatic Society, A p r. 1962, pp. 18 ff.
J* A . K . Coomaraswamy, ‘ Iconography o f Diirer’s Knots and Leonardo’s Concatena
tion’, Art Quarterly, Detroit, 1944.
CHAPTER XXXI
B y the opening o f the Christian era the civilization o f India had begun to
spread across the Bay o f Bengal into both island and mainland South-East
A sia; and by the fifth century a . d . Indianized states, that-is to say states
organized along the traditional lines o f Indian political theory and following
the Buddhist or Hindu religions, had established themselves in many regions
o f Burm a, Thailand, Indo-China, M alaysia, and Indonesia. Some o f these
states were in time to grow into great empires dominating the zone between
m etropolitan India and the Chinese southern border, which has sometimes
been described as ‘ Further In d ia’ or ‘ Greater India*. Once rooted in South
East Asian soil, Indian civilization evolved in part through the action o f
forces o f South-East Asian origin, and in part through the influence o f cul
tural and political changes in the Indian subcontinent. M any scholars have
described the eastward spread o f Indian civilization in terms o f a series o f
‘ w aves’ ; and there are good reasons for considering that such ‘ w aves’ are
still breaking on South-East Asian beaches today.
The cultures o f modern South-East A sia all provide evidence o f a long
period o f contact with India. M any South-East Asian languages (M alay and
Javanese are good examples) contain an Important proportion o f words o f
Sanskrit or Dravidian origin. Some o f these languages, like T hai, are still
written in scripts which are clearly derived from Indian models. South-East
Asian concepts o f kingship and authority, even in regions which are now
dominated by Islam , owe much to ancient Hindu political theory. T he Thai
m onarchy, though following Hinayâna Buddhism o f the Sinhalese type, still
requires the presence o f Court brahmans (who by now have become Thai in
all but name) for the proper performance o f its ceremonials. The traditional
dance and shadow-puplpet theatres in many South-East Asian regions, in
Thailand, M alaya, and Java for example, continue to fascinate their audiences
with the adventures o f Râm a and Sita and Hanumân. In B ali an elaborate in
digenous Hindu culture still flourishes, and preserves intact m any Indian
ideas and practices which have long passed out o f use in the subcontinent ; and
here we have a fossil record, as it were, which can be exploited to throw much
light on the early cultural history o fln d ia itself. The fact o f Indian im pact on
South-East Asian civilization, past and present, is, indeed, in no doubt. M uch
* A s South-East Asian archaeology is one o f the most rapidly developing fields o f study
at present, and as Professor Lamb has not for the last few years been directly involved in
that fieid, Professor Lam b has agreed that D r. H . H 1. E . Loofs should add a brief appendix
to his contribution to cover the latest evidence o f Indian contacts with the region. [Ed.]
Indian Influence in Ancient South-East Asia 443
controversy, however, has arisen over the precise way in which this im pact
took place.
There has long been a temptation for Indian scholars, and those brought up
in an environment o f Indian studies, to see in early Indianized South-East
Asia an exact reflection o f the various periods and schools o f the civilization o f
metropolitan India. M uch scholarly writing, fo r example, has been devoted to
attempts to determine the precise Indian prototypes for such great South
East Asian monuments as the B orobodur stüpa in Java and the K hm er temples
o f Cam bodia. These structures are obviously in the Indian tradition. T heir
ground-plans, for example, and the subject-matter o f their sculptural decora
tion, can easily be related to Indian religious texts. Y e t a careful study o f
monuments such as these suggests that the Indian aspect is only one part o f
the story. W hile beyond doubt showing signs o f Indian influence, yet B o ro b o
dur and A n gk or W at are not copies o f Indian structures. There exists nothing
quite like them in the Indian archaeological record. The vast m ajority o f the
Hindu and Buddhist monuments o f South-East A sia which were constructed
in the pre-European period, that is to say before the opening o f the sixteenth
century, possess, as it were, a definite South-East Asian flavour. It is reason
able to consider the styles 01 art and architecture o f the Khm ers, Cham s, and
Javanese as styles in their own right and something much more than the im ita
tion o f Indian prototypes. These styles, as Coedès and other scholars have ex
pressed it, are Indianized rather than Indian. T h e Indian inheritance in South
East A sia is not to be found in the unthinking repetition o f Indian form s;
rather, it is to be seen in the inspiration which India gave to South-East A sia
to adapt its own cultures so as to absorb and develop Indian concepts. The
resulting syntheses are peculiar to South-East A sia.
The concept o f Indianization, which is one o f the keys to the understanding
o f South-East Asian cultural history, raises a number o f questions which are
not at present easy to answer. W hy, and when, did India begin to extend her
influence eastwards? W hat kind o f people did the early missionaries o f Indian
civilization meet across the Bay o f Bengal? W ere they naked savages follow
ing a food-gathering economy in the jungles, or were they settled populations
with ways o f life which might be.described as civilizations o f their ow n? H ow
exactly did the form s o f Indian civilization enter into the fabric o f South-East
Asian cultural life? Inevitably, suggested solutions to these problems o f the
first phases o f Indianization must be rather tentative and expressed in general
terms. Neither the indigenous South-East Asian texts and inscriptions, nor the
narratives o f foreign visitors to the region, take us back with any degree o f
certainty beyond the third century o f the Christian era. T he record o f South
East A sian protohistoric archaeology is as yet far from fully elucidated. The
term South-East A sia, moreover, covers a very extensive area within which
there exists a considerable range o f environments and ethnic types, and
throughout which there cannot possibly have been 1» uniform operation o f any
one o f the several likely processes o f Indianization. Some populations, like the
Khm ers, the Chams, and the Javanese, became heavily Indianized. Others,
like some o f the tribes in Sulawesi (the Celebes), were indeed subject to Indian
irfluence, but lightly and, most probably, indirectly. Y e t others, like the
Negritos o f the M alay Peninsula, cannot be said to have been Indianized at all.
444 Indian Influence in /indent South-East Asia
The evidence at present available, which is far less abundant than might be
desired, suggests that there must have been a measure o f contact between
India and South-East A sia for several centuries before the opening o f the
Christian era. While it is extremely unlikely that there was at this early period
any extensive migration eastwards o f Indian populations— the theory o f the
Indian origin o f the M alays, for example, is no longer taken very seriously,
and most authorities are inclined to agree w ith Heinc-Geldern in seeing a
Chinese origin for the prehistoric migrations into South-East A sia w hich have
left an archaeological or anthropological trace capable o f detection— yet
sufficient Indian trade across the B ay o f Bengal there must have been to ex
plain the presence in early Indian epics like the Râmâyana o f references to
such South-East Asian regions as Siwarnadoipa (the G olden Island or
Peninsula, usually identified with Sumatra or the M alay Peninsula). Significant
cultural influence, however, can hardly have begun before the ASokan period;
and we have no real archaeological or literary evidence for it until well on into
the Christian era. It seem s'm ost probable, on the present available inform a
tion, that Indianization started in earnest in the period from the first century
b . c . to the first century a . d . There can be no doubt, at all events, that by the
fifth century a .d . Indian culture was widely known in South-East A sia, and
that Indianized states had appeared not only in regions with relatively large
populations practising a settled agriculture, like Cam bodia, Vietnam , and Java,
but also in remote and sparsely peopled districts like Kalim antan (Indonesian
Borneo) and Sulawesi (Celebes).
I f this chronology is correct, then it is unlikely that, as has sometimes been
suggested, the initial.im petus to Indianization in South-East A sia was pro
vided by the migration overseas o f the people o f R alinga follow ing A so k a ’s
devastating invasion in about 261 B .C. There is certainly no archaeological re
cord o f an extensive Indian population movement into South-East A sia at
this period, or, indeed, at any period until fairly recently. Indian colonization
o f South-East A sia, on the pattern o f European colonization o f North
Am erica or Australia and N ew Zealand, is no longer regarded by the m ajority
o f scholars as a m ajor factor in the initiation o f the Indianization process,
which now tends to be interpreted in the light o f an expansion o f international
maritime trade.
The links by land trade-routes between the major centres o f population on
the Eurasian continent date back to at least the days o f the Persian Em pire o f
the Achaem enians. N o doubt by the time o f Alexander the Great there also
existed a measure o f maritime trade in the Indian Ocean, follow ing coastal
routes, particularly between the Persian G u lf and the Indus. In the first
century b . c . the m ajor Eurasian land routes were supplemented to an im
portant degree by sea lanes across the Indian Ocean which exploited the con
venient seasonal alternations in direction o f the monsoon winds. T h e dis
covery o f the monsoons was unlikely to have been, as the story has it, the feat
o f a single G reek sea captain, Hippalus by name. It was rather the em ploy
ment on a wider scale o f a phenomenon, no doubt well know n to the in
habitants o f many an Indian Ocean coast, under the powerful stimulus o f
econom ic and political factors, o f which the creation o f the great consumer
market o f the Roman world was probably the most im portant. The demand
Indian Influence in Ancient South-East Asia 445
in the Mediterranean for Chinese silks and for the spices and medicinal plants
o f the Indies, combined with the rapacity o f the powers straddling the main
land routes, certainly stimulated the quest for new and unobstructed channels
o f trade. Just before the opening o f the Christiaq.era the sea routes to the east,
with termini jn the Red Sea and the Persian G ulf, had become important to
the commerce o f the Rom an world, as is made clear in the writings o f such
authorities as the Eider Pliny and Strabo. By the second century A.D . these
routes had brought Mediterranean (If not Roman) merchants to the shores o f
India and Ceylon, to parts o f mainland South-East Asia, and to China. In the
process, South-East A sia was joined to India by bonds which have never since
been entirely severed.
W hether Mediterranean and M iddle Eastern trade brought Indians into
South-East Asia, or the W est was exploiting routes which India had already
pioneered, is an issue which it is now impossible to resolve. A rchaeology in
mainland South-East A sia has revealed objects o f Western origin (Mediter
ranean and Iranian) which appear to antedate the first undoubted Indianized
artifacts. The bronze lamp o f Mediterranean provenance from P ’ong T ü k in
central Thailand and the Roman medal dated a . d . 152 from O c-Eo in South
Vietnam near the M ekong D elta are examples o f a trade which helps explain
how South-East Asia m ay have entered into the ‘ known w orld ’ and have
found its place in the Geography o f Claudius Ptolem y, writing in the second
century a . d . O c -E o , it is probable, was an entrepôt o f considerable importance
in the East-W est trade in the first centuries o f the Christian era; and research
at this site has yielded a wealth o f small finds, such as glass and metal beads
and intaglio seals, o f Mediterranean and Iranian (Parthian and Sàsânian)
origin which invite reference to the site o f the ancient trading port at A rika-
medu near Pondicherry on the south-east coast o f India, which was certainly
an entrepôt used by M editerranean merchants at this period. There is arch
aeological evidence from both India and South-East Asia to suggest that it was
the stimulus o f demand in the West which set Indians sailing in significant
numbers across the B ay o f Bengal; but positive proof is lacking. It is certain,
however, that once the econom ic importance o f the routes from India east
wards through South-East Asia was cs.tablished, they were extensively ex
ploited by Indians who, unlike the Westerners o f this time, left a lasting im
pression upon the South-East Asian cultural landscape.
We possess very little direct evidence as to the manner in which the Indians,
once they began to trade and travel widely in South-East A sia, actually pro
ceeded to Indianize the indigenous peoples with whom they came into contact.
It is clear, however, that more than one mechanism must have operated and
that there can have been no question o f a single pattern o f events holding good
for the whole region. In some places it is reasonable to suppose that there
grew up actual settlements o f Indian merchants, ju st as European merchants
later established themselves in the modern entrepôt cities like Penang and
Singapore. W e have no positive evidence for such early Indian mercantile
colonies; but.we know from inscriptions that settlements o f this type existed
at Baros in western Sumatra and Takuapa 011 the Isthmus o f K ra by the tenth
or eleventh centuries a .d . Such communities would no doubt provide an
example for the techniques o f urban life along Indian lines and the practical
446 Indian Influence in Ancient South-East Asia
period o f the Chola D ynasty (ninth to thirteenth centuries a .d .). There were
Tam il trading settlements at this time at Baros in western Sumatra and at
Takuapa on the K ra Isthmus. Indonesian rulers endowed shrines in Chola
territory in India. This connection between both sides o f the Bay o f Bengal
was so important that, in the eleventh century a . d ., it induced the Chola
kings Ràjarâja and Rajendra to undertake demonstrations o f their sea power
in the direction o f Sumatra and the M alay Peninsula, with the probable ob
jective o f securing a commercial m onopoly rather than the acquisition of
territory. It is not difficult, therefore, to find explanations for the presence of
a Chola element in many South-East Asian arts and architectures.
In the thirteenth century two closely related people, the Shans and the
Thais, migrating from the Chinese province o f Yunnan, began to dominate
much o f Burma and Thailand. A t about the same time another group from the
Chinese borderlands, the Vietnamese, were advancing southwards down the
Annamese coastal strip into Cham territory. These movements o f peoples had
a profound effect upon the subsequent shape o f the cultural history o f main
land South-East Asia. The Shans, follow ing in the wake o f a series o f attacks
by the M ongol (YUan) D ynasty in China, had by a .d . 1300 brought about the
abandonment o f the great Burman c it y 'o f Pagan with its thousands o f
Buddhist temples. The Thais, entering w hat is now Thailand, brought M on
and K hm er peoples under their rule; and their pressure, by the end o f the
fourteenth century, had proved too much for the Khm er kingdom with its
centre at A n gkor in Cam bodia. The Vietnamese, by the end o f the fifteenth
century, were, well on the way to bringing all o f what is now Vietnam under
their sway, and, in the process, creating a m ajor South-East Asian population
which, unlike the Indianized Cham s, looked for its example to China.
T he Thais, once established in the Menam basin, underwent a process o f
Indianization which, because it is well documented, provides an invaluable
example o f the mechanics o f cultural.fusion in South-East Asia. On the one
hand, T h ai rulers set out deliberately to Indianize themselves. T hey sent, for
example, agents to Bengal, at that time suffering from the disruption of
Islamic conquest, to bring back models upon which to base an official sculpture
and architecture. Hence Thai architects began to build replicas o f the Bodh-
G ayâ stüpa (W at Chet Y o t in Chiengmai is a good example) and T hai artists
made Buddha images according to the Pala canon as they saw it. On the other
hand, the Thais absorbed much from their Khm er and M on subjects; and the
influence o f A n gk or and D varavatl is obvious in Thai art. Thai kings em
braced the Indian religions, and they based their principles o f government
upon Hindu practice as It had been understood by their Khm er predecessors.
Hence the Khm er version o f the Devaràja cult was absorbed by the Thai
m onarchy; and traces o f it survive to this day.
The thirteenth century, which saw the conquests- of the Thais, also wit
nessed two m ajor developments in South-East Asian religious life, both, if
sometimes rather indirectly, the product o f Indian influence. Theravada
Buddhism established itself as the dominant form o f religious expression on
theSjouth-East Asian mainland; and the saffron-robed m onk became ubiqui
tous in Burm a, Thailand, Laos, and Cam bodia. This movement appears to
have originated in Ceylon and is unconnected, except in the most remote way,
Indian Influence in Ancient South-East Asia 45»
with the Buddhism which came to South-East Asia in the first centuries o f
Indianization. A t the same time, in the archipelago, the M alay Peninsula, and
Cham pa (all inhabited by peoples speaking languages o f the M alayo-P oly-
nesian group), Islam began to spread. M uslim traders had been in contact
with|South-East Asia at least since the days o f the eârly ‘Abbâsid Caliphate.
Archaeological sites like Takuapa on the Isthmus o f K ra have yielded Islamic
glazed wares, almost certainly brought by Persian traders, which date to the
ninth or tenth centuries; and in both Java and Vietnam Islamic inscriptions o f
the eleventh century have been found. B ut it seems that the actual conversion
o f South-East Asian populations to Islam on a significant scale did not begin
until the thirteenth century, when Indian M uslim merchants from G u jarat or
Bengal brought the faith with them as their ancestors had brought the Hindu
and Buddhist religions. W hen M arco P olo passed through the M alacca
Straits in the late thirteenth century there were thriving M uslim communities
in Sumatra. W ith the conversion to Islam in the middle o f the fifteenth century
o f the M alacca kingdom , which was an heir to Srivijaya in the dom ination o f
commerce through the Straits, Islam began to penetrate deep into the M alay
Peninsula; and at the same period it extended its influence eastwards through
Java and the rest o f the archipelago, continuing a rapid expansion up to the
middle o f the sixteenth century.
The conversion to Islam o f much o f island South-East A sia was the last
phase o f Indianization which we can treat in the same terms as our discussion
o f the earlier establishment o f Hindu and Buddhist influence; for in the
sixteenth century the South-East Asian cultural scene was greatly com plicated
both by the coming o f the European empire-builders and by the great increase
in Chinese settlement. Indian influence, o f course, has continued up to the
present; but it has done so in com petition with the influences o f Europe and
China, to which, in recent years, have been added those o f A m erica and
Japan. The Islamic conversion in South-East A sia took place along lines very
similar to those which marked the com ing o f Buddhism and Hinduism in
earlier years. It was established by influence and example; not b y force; and
there is no South-East Asian parallel to the Islam ic Turkish invasions o fln d ia .
Once established on South-East Asian soil, Islam began to acquire peculiarly
South-East Asian features, the product o f its intermarriage with earlier cul
tural strata, both Indianized and pre-Indian. Thus women in M alaysia,
Indonesia, and the Philippines have not, as they have in India and the M iddle
East, taken to veiling their faces in public. Thè first South-East Asian mosques
were not replicas o f Indo-Saracenic art: they were based on the forms o f exist-,
ing Buddhist and Hindu temple architecture; and the dome is a late, and rather
exotic, development in this region. M an y old pre-Islamic customs and cere
monies survived. Islamic peasants continued to be entertained by stories from
the Rânmyâna. M uch o f M alay and Indonesian court ceremonial, marriage
customs, and the like can be traced without difficulty b ack to the days o f
Buddhist and Hindu dominance. Perhaps no bettêr sym bol o f the w ay in
which South-East A sia absorbed Islam can be found than in the ‘ M egalith ic’
menhir from Pengkalan Kem pas in the M alaysian State o f Negri Sembilan,
which has carved upon it in high relief in K u fic letters the M uslim name o f
God.
Indian Influence in Ancient South-East Asia
The Indianization o f South-East A sia was a slow and gradual process. With
a few exceptions like the Chola attacks o f the eleventh century, it was carried
out by peaceful means; and in consequence, as it developed, it did not build
up a resistance to its further progress. Though its initial impact was probably
at the level o f the ruling classes, Indian influences had no difficulty in merging
with indigenous cultures to create a series o f distinct South-East Asian amal
gams in which it is now virtually impossible to disentangle all the Indian from
the non-Indian. The result may not have simplified the task o f the cultural
historian; but it has without doubt guaranteed the Indian heritage a place in
South-East Asian civilization from which it cannot possibly be dislodged with
out the totaj destruction o f that civilization.
A P P E N D I X B Y H. H. E. LOOFS
inonk from Central Asia, who, together with a large secretariat o f assistants,
produced numerous translations in excellent Chinese. By the beginning o f the
fifth century they had completed a corpus that was acceptable to a nation in
which the literati enjoyed both power and prestige. K um àrajîva’s heroic out
put provided the proponents o f Buddhism with a literary arsenal.
The most basic doctrines o f Buddhism had to be taught to a people who
had never been exposed to such philosophical concepts as karma, samsara,
and nirvana. The dispossessed were attracted less to the ideal o f a vague,
distant, and incomprehensible nirvana than to the possible attainment o f im
mediate rebirth in the delightful paradise o f the Buddha Am itâbha or
M aitreya. Cults focusing on the paradises o f different Buddhas developed
rapidly; they required no abstruse philosophical knowledge on the part o f the
believer. T h e way to salvation from the unpredictable W heel o f Life was easy,
merely requiring faith in the Buddha, a bodhisattva, or even a few words from
a sütra such as the Saddhannapundarika, the Sukhavati Vytiha, or any M ait
reya sütra. In effect, this religion o f faith ultimately derived from the Indian
concept o f bhakti.
I f Buddhism attracted the masses because o f future rewards in heaven, or
even for more immediate advantages in this world, it also had an appeal on a
higher level to many o f the Chinese intelligentsia. Anarchical warfare had
divided their country into various contending kingdoms; they were dis
illusioned and alienated. But they were fascinated by the elaborate meta
physics and hair-splitting philosophy o f the Buddhist commentators.
Other segments o f the population were attracted by the extraordinary
powers o f those missionaries w ho demonstrated the potency o f their religion
through acts o f magic. A case in point is the career o f F o T ’u-teng, the subject
o f a study by Professor Arthur F. Wright. F o T ’ u-teng, a fourth-century re
ligious, attached him self to a warlord named Shih Lo whom he had impressed
initially by the performance o r a simple magical trick. The missionary sub
sequently rose to power because o f what was believed to be an ability to in
duce rain, cure the sick, and, perhaps most o f all, to advise successfully in
matters o f warfare, a function inherently non-Buddhist.
The numbers o f Chinese won over to Buddhism increased alarm ingly dur
ing the fifth century. M onks, nuns, clergy', and monasteries multiplied so
rapidly that, in the years 444 and 446, repressive measures were imposed on
them by the court. The charges levelled against the clergy were on moral and
political rather than religious grounds, not always without reason. Certainly
many had become monks in order to evade military conscription. Further
more, laxities in the monasteries gave the government additional cause for
punitive measures.
Despite occasional setbacks, a good percentage o f the population was per
suaded for one reason or another to espouse the new faith. Converts, temples,
and m onastic establishments continued to proliferate throughout the land. In
time, the concepts pervading Buddhist thought found tbeir w ay into Confuc-
ian philosophy. Occasional persecutions and attacks by the Confucian gentry
failed to halt the growing power o f the Buddhists. Indeed, when China, after
centuries o f fragmentation,.was unified under the Sui D ynasty (589-618), the
religion adopted from abroad became a stabilizing force within the empire.
Indian Influences on China 457
The Sui ruler, in order to gain support from his numerous subjects, compared
himself to a chakravartin and, like a latter-day Asoka, noted that, after
having been victorious in many battles, h e .to o j promoted the ten Buddhist
virtues. R o yal and governmental support of Buddhism became, in fact, a
matter o f state policy under the Sui. Further, in 591 the last o f the Sui em
perors, Y a n g Kuang, convened an assembly o f monks under the auspices o f
Chih-i, founder o f the T ’ien-t’ ai sect. There the Emperor himself took the
‘ bodhisattva vo w s’ o f a lay Buddhist.
During the early part o f the T ’ ang D ynasty (618-906) Buddhism com
manded considerable prestige in the royal court and was even manipulated
for political control. T h e usurping Empress W u (684-710) went to such
lengths as to have a .sütra written in which it was prophesied that the
future Buddha, M aitreya, would be reborn as a woman destined to rule
China. T o maintain that deceit the Empress occasionally dressed herself as a
bodhisattva.
The worldly success o f Buddhism, however, led to its eventual downfall.
Just as Buddhism had insinuated itself into China during a period o f anarchy,
it lost much o f its vitality and power during a similar period o f disruption that
occurred in the ninth century. The foreign religion was a convenient scape
goat, and in 845 severe persecutions drastically reduced the influence o f ortho
dox Buddhism. W hile it survived as a popular religion, Buddhism changed as
it fused with Taoism and incorporated beliefs and superstitions o f indigenous
cults. The concept of karma, however, was engraved permanently on Chinese
thought, as were the Indian visions o f the heavens and hells in the hereafter.
The creative impulse o f Buddhism was to come from the Ch’an or D hyân a
sect which, according to legend, had its roots in the sixth century. This emi
nently unconventional form o f Buddhism has been characterized by D r.
Hu Shih as the Chinese ‘ rejection’ o f Buddhism. It should be noted, however,
that some aspects o f C h ’ an philosophy are closely akin toTantricism , another
ofTshoot o f traditional Buddhism, and one that was prevalent in India during
the ninth-céntury persecutions in China.
With the decline o f orthodpx Buddhism, Confucianism triumphed, bu t it
was a Confucianism so permeated with Buddhist thought that, as Professor
Arthur F. W right has said, it would have been incomprehensible to a Con-
fuciabist living in Han times. Even the definition o f li, a term that encompassed
the basic Confucian ideal o f an empirical natural order, was transformed to
mean the transcendental absolute, a principle o f the Mahâyânists. T h rou gh
out the Sung D ynasty (960-1279) Neo-Confucianism remained dependent on
Buddhist philosophy. Even as late as the M ing D ynasty (1368-1644) the most
prominent N eo-Confucianist, W ang Yang-m ing (1472-1529), was criticized
by his opponents for being a crypto-Buddhist. Actually, his inspiration came
specifically from C h ’an Buddhism.
Under the M anchus, who established the C h’ing Dynasty (1644-1912),
Buddhism once again achieved royal approval. But this time Tibetan in
fluence prevailed and Indian ideals were obfuscated by elaborate rituals.
Europe rather than A sia was to become the revitalizing force in China.
We have said that India’s contribution to China was Buddhism. T o this we
should also add trade, which followed the same long and difficult routes
458 Indian Influences on China
The country remained vulnerable to the cataclysm o f Tim ur’ s invasion, which
prostrated Delhi for a long time afterwards.
In the sixteenth century T urkey and Iran began to emerge as great m on
archies in the eastern Islamic world, the former being Sunni and the latter
Shi'i. The conversion.of the sultans o f Bïjâpur, Ahmadnagar, and G olconda
to ShJ'ism increased Irani influence in the Deccan. Diplom atic relations be
tween Iran and the sultans'of the Deccan had commenced in the reign o f Shâh
Ismâ'il (1501-24), the founder o f the ShTi Safavi Dynasty, and the Mughal
designs upon the Deccan, swelling steadily from A kbar's reign, further
strengthened the friendship between them. Shâh ‘Abbâs II (1642-66) made
persistent efforts to dissuade Shâh Jahân from depriving the Deccan sultans
o f their independence; but Shâh Jahàn’s aggressive policy towards the sultans
o f Bïjâpur and G olconda was primarily designed to force them to give up
their special-relationship with Iran; and Qutb Sluth, the ruler o f G olconda,
was compelled to abandon his practice o f naming the Shâh o f Iran in the
khutbn (the exordium o f the Friday and ‘Id sermons in the mosque).
The belief that the last ‘Abbàsid caliph o f Egypt transferred his office to
Sultan Selïm I (1512-20) o f Turkey, who conquered Egypt in 1517, is a late
eighteenth-century fiction, exaggerated for political purposes by twentieth-
century Indian advocates o f Pan-Islamism. What Sultan Sellm-in fact prided
himself on was that his conquests had given him control o f M ecca and
Medina, and that the Sherif o f M ecca was obliged to admit'his suzerainty.
This must have strengthened Shër Shâh in his resolve to annihilate Iran and
to establish diplom atic relations with Turkey, with the specific purpose of
‘ knitting the bonds o f religious brotherhood’ and obtaining.from the sultan
the, guardianship o f either M ecca or Medina.
A k b ar’s relations with the contem porary Islamic world were ruled by a new
political realism. N o longer was the main aim to strengthen the bonds between
the M ughals and other powers o f thesam e religious and sectarian persuasion;
it was to achieve a balance o f pow er between countries.such as Shi’I Iran,
Sunni Transoxiana, and Turkey, which m ight not only have different religious
beliefs, but also be suspicious o f A k b ar’s political motives.
D irect confrontation with Transoxiana was narrowly avoided. When its
ruler, ‘Abdullah Khan Uzbeg, acquired Farghâna in the east and.Balkh and
Badakhshân in the south, the form er ruling princes and chiefs o f these re
gions took refuge in India under A k b ar's protection. In order to save Kabul,
hitherto independent, from ‘A bdullâh K han Uzbeg, Akbar annexed it to the
M ughal Empire in 1585, upon the death o f its ruler, his cousin M irza Hakim.
‘A b d yllâh K hân Üzbég, his ambitions thwarted in this area, then turned his
attention to Khurâsân. Backed by Turkey, which shared his aggressive de
signs on Iran, he endeavoured to extinguish the Shi‘I dynasty o f Iran, thus
arousing sectariah hatred, with each side condemning the other as heretics.
Qandahàr, cut o ff from the Iranian Government by the U zbeg conquest o f
Herat, was now itself ih danger. A k b ar faced this crisis with, decision and him
self seized.Qandahàr ih 1590, and soon afterwards Sind and Baluchistan. He
had already annexed .Kashm ir (in 1586) to prevent the K hân turning his
attention in that direction, and to.strengthen his own frontiers. It was not until
Transoxiana was weakened by civil strife following the death o f .‘Abdullah
India and the Medieval Islamic World 463
K han Uzbeg in 1598 that A kbar felt free to return to Âgrâ from the Panjâb,
where he had remained since 1585, except for occasional tours to Kashm ir and
Kabul.
But throughout this period A k b ar had kept up diplomatic correspondence
with ‘Abdullah K b àn U zbeg, trying to dissuade him from aggrandizement at
the expense o f Iran, and pointing out that even if the Iranian D ynasty were
Shl'i, they were still descendants o f the Prophet Muhammad. A t one stage he
even went to the length o f suggesting to the K h ân that the Indian and T urani
armies might combine to save Iran from Tu rkey; an im practicable scheme,
but serving to remind ‘Abdullâh K hân U zbeg that were he to favour Turkey
too much, A k b ar could retaliate by supporting Iran. In order to wield some
influence in Turkish-occupied M ecca and Medina, where the im age o f the
Mughal Government needed better presentation, A kb ar showered upon the
Sherlf and the religious and other élite o f these tw o centres a regular supply o f
money and gifts.
Jahangir at first followed lus father’s foreign policy where Iran was con
cerned, his respect for Shâh ‘A bbâs increasing until he retook Qandahàr.
Jahangir thereupon began to consider an alliance with the Uzbegs and the
Ottomans against Iran, one o f fellow Sunnis against Shi'is; but this did not
eventuate. Shâh Jahân in his turn made a bid for a Turkish alliance in 1638,
.when M uràd IV was preparing to reconquer Baghdâd from Iran, but M urâd
captured Baghdâd without his help and the proposal lapsed. Shâh Jahàn then
invaded Balkh and Badakhshàn, inviting mutual suspicion between the
Ottomans and the M ughals and precluding any thought o f a Sunni alliance
against the hated S h fis. Nevertheless the diplom atic contact, once made, con
tinued more or less uninterruptedly throughout Shâh Jahân’s reign.
When Aurangzeb succeeded, Balkh and Bukhara prom ptly sent envoys to
welcome his accession, but the Sherif o f M ecca and the Turkish governors o f
Yemen and Basra waited seven years before recognizing him, while the
Ottomans sent no envoy at all until 1690, when they needed his help as a result
o f their defeat at Vienna in 1683, and loss o f Hungary in 1686. T h ey did not
know that he was now having great difficulty in keeping his own empire in
tact.
Long before that, in February 1661, a Persian envoy had arrived in D elhi,
to be given a royal welcome. But it seems that his report o f the circumstances
o f Aurangzeb’s accession, together with an exaggerated account o f rebellions
by the zamîndârs, convinced Shâh ‘A bbâs II that India retained only the
shadow o f its past glory. N o doubt he was already disgusted by the behaviour
o f Aurangzeb as related by envoys from Shâh Jahàn and D âra Shukôh. A t all
events, although in 1663 he graciously received the return embassy led by
Tarbiyat K han, G overnor o f Multan, he did not forbear from condemning
Aurangzeb for the unscrupulous manner in which he had ascended the throne,
and for his presumption in taking the title o f ‘AJanjgTr (‘ W orld C on qu eror’).
On his return, Tarbiyat Khân was temporarily disgraced by Aurangzeb for
not having w on over the Shâh, and relations.between Iran and the M ughals
deteriorated; but the mutual military build-up on the borders was an idle
threat in both cases, fo r neither power was strong enough to attack the otherr
Beset by domestic problems, India was diplom atically isolated under
464 India and the Medieval Islamic World
Aurangzeb, although the fugitive Prince A kbar tried in the 1680s to persuade
the Shâh to help him overthrow his father.
The position was different where trade and cultural relations were con
cerned. The fact that the Arabs dominated seaborne trade before the discovery
o f the Cape route and the com ing o f the Portuguese meant that Indian
Muslims were easily able to develop commercial links with the Muslim world
at large, and at the same time maintain their cultural contacts. Thus, when
diplomatic relations with other Muslim countries failed, trade, commerce,
visits by scholars, and the exchange o f ideas made for a certain unity.
The M alabâr coast was a key area in the pattern o f trade at this time, with
such ports as Calicut the entrepôt for trade between Pegu and M alacca in the
cast and the Persian G u lf and Red Sea in the west. Although not itself under
Muslim rule, as the centre o f this medieval commercial activity M alabar was
the point from which the message o f Islam radiated peacefully to the Far East
and other non-Islamic regions.
From the Red Sea and the Persian G u lf there were two overland trade-
rou tes to Europe, one through Egypt and the other through Syria. T he contact
made through the Egyptian route in particular is responsible for India’s
figuring so prominently in fourteenth-century Arabic books on geography,
travel, and adventure, although there are also numerous accounts o f India
dating from the ninth and tenth centuries. Sbihâbu’d-DIn al-‘ Umari of
Damascus (1297-1348), for instance, based the account o f India In bis en
cyclopedic Masâlik al-Absâr f i Mamâlik al-Amsâr mainly on information
supplied by merchants. But, even though his information on the political,
religious, social, and economic life o fln d ia was obtained at second hand, it
has been largely corroborated by the Indian political histories o f the period
and by the monumental Refila o f the M oorish traveller Ibn Battuta (1304-77).
There was also an overland trade-route, with Ghazni and Multân as entre
pôts, from the ninth to the twelfth centuries. The importance of G hazni de
clined in the thirteenth century, but the M ultan route continued to be used. In
the sixteenth century the route through Lahore and K abul became more
popular.
D uring the twelfth and thirteenth centuries many merchants, süfîs, and
scholars came to M ultân and U ch through the Khurram, TochI, and Gomal
passes. These areas were as heayily studded with flourishing centres o f süfism
as with trade centres. By this time a close connection had developed between
the Muslim craft and trade guilds and the s ü fî saints; in fact many eminent
süfîs had originally been merchants or artisans. Some Chishtï süfîs o fln d ia
had close links o f this kind, and depended for their subsistence 011 cash
gifts from merchants rather than on permanent revenue grants fromi official
sources, which would have made them dependent upon fluctuating political
power.
The Muslim merchants o fln d ia often maintained cordial relations o f their
own with the outside world. F or example when the M ongol chief Tayir
attacked Lahore in 1241, the Lahore merchant community, who constantly
travelled to Khurasan and Turkistàn, took no part in defending Lahore or
resisting the Mongols, from whom they had passes to travel in the countries
under M ongol control. N or did the Indian rulers interfere with the merchants,
India and lite Medieval Islamic World 465
who were valuable as intermediaries between themselves and the Mongol
rulers, and who invariably remained neutral in any political struggle.
B y the reign o f Muhammad bin Tughluq there were also Iranian merchants
in India. Khurâsànî merchants owned great mansions in D elhi, and were en
gaged in exporting slaves, gold, silver, paper, and book's to Khurasan, and
also elephants to the Iranian courts.
Slaves were imported too, from Egypt, Aden, and Turkistan; and horses
were bought from Turkistan, Iraq, and Bahrain, the horse trade being mono
polized by the Afghans from the fifteenth century onwards. It is well known
that luxury goods were imported for the Court at Delhi; but there was also,
from the sixteenth century, an extensive export trade in silk and linen from
Bengal and Cam bay to Iran, Tartary, Syria, Africa, Arabia, and Ethiopia.
Indian herbs, too, were in great demand at the Iranian Court, and their in
fluence on medicine is reflected in contemporary medical works.
A n important factor in the trade o f the medieval Muslim world was the
role o f Hindu merchants, bankers, and money-lenders. Documents from the
thirteenth to the fifteenth centuries are lacking, but there is no reason to
believe that the situation then was radically different from that prevailing in
the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, for which there is ample evidence.
The Arabic Fatâwa literature and trade documents o f the period do not
distinguish between Hindus and Jains, and the appellation Baniyân al-Kuffâr
('H eretic M erchants’) was given to Indian merchants living on the south
Arabian coast irrespective o f which community they belonged to. Their clerks
were called karrârtis, a term which was thus in use long before it became
popular because o f its usage by the East India Com pany. The baniyâns mainly
handled the cloth trade and money-iending. T he best-recorded aspects, o f their
life amongst a predominantly Muslim population are the accounts o f their
disputes with Muslims over such matters as non-payment o f loans by Muslim
debtors or the conditions o f employment o f Muslim menials such as sweepers.
In the latter case, where employees gave religious reasons as grounds for in
subordination, it was ruled that such service should not be regarded as de
grading the status o f a Muslim (Bwnah li’ l-Muslimin), and Hindu employers,
like Hindu creditors, were protected by the government in return for the
taxes they paid.
Pietro della Valle and Thom as Herbert found Hindu merchants in both
Isfahan and Bandar ‘A bbâs when they visited Iran in the reign o f Shah
‘A bbâs I (1581-1629); and another traveller, Chardin, noted that they.charged
exorbitant rates o f interest, remitting their profits to India in the form o f
precious metal, and exerting a decisive influence on the money market. The
Shâh generally favoured them in disputes. Another visitor, giving their num
ber as 12,000, describes them as mostly good-natured and friendly, occasion
ally short-tempered, vegetarian, and p f poor physique. They were closely in
touch with the M ughal Court and were authorized to make advances to
M ughal envoys and Iranian scholar's invited to visit India, their Delhi agents
being reimbursed for these by the Mughal administration.
A gTeat number o f outstanding poets, scholars, süfîs, and theologians emi
grated to India from the twelfth’century on, but the number o f Indian Muslim
scholars who made their mark in the medieval Islamic world at large was also
466 India and the Medieval Islamic World
by no means small, and many Indian ideas had a significant impact on con
temporary thinking outside India. For example, M aulâna R azlu’d-Dïn
Hasan Sàghànl, born and educated in Badàün (about 170 miles east o f Delhi),
wrote a celebrated work on the traditions o f the Prophet Muhammad entitled
Mashâriqu’ l Anwâr. This text was copied, read, and studied throughout the
Islamic world.
There was the legendary figure, Ratan al-Hindi or Babà Ratan, said to have
been converted to Islam by the Prophet himself. This legend was obviously
concocted to prove the cosmopolitanism o f Islam. Together with other un-
authentic traditions, it was criticized by Sâghâni in the Mashâriqu’ l Ànwâr.
The gullible pious paid little attention to such critical scholars, however, and
popular Islamic literature continued to draw upon unauthentic traditions.
Those concerning Babà Ratan were defended even by the celebrated .Irani
sufi and scholar, Shaikh ‘A là ’u’d-Daula Simnànî (1261-1336)'; and another
Irani sü fi scholar, M ir Saiyid ‘A ll Hamadânl (1314-85), and his disciples pro
pagated Islamic orthodoxy in Kashm ir, popularizing traditions relating to
Babà Ratan through their writings.
Another Indian scholar who left an indelible mark on the world o f A rabic
learning was Shaikh ‘A li M uttaqi (1480-1567), who completed his higher
education in Mecca. A prolific writer, his main contribution to learning was
his edition o f the Hadis entitled Kanzu'l ‘ Umma!, in which he rearranged more
systematically the traditions given in A b u ’l Faz! ‘Abdu’r Rahm an Suyütl’s
(1445-1505) monumental edition.
The recognition accorded to Shaikh ‘A ll M uttaqi by leading A rabic scholars
enhanced the reputation o f Indian scholarship as a whole, and many Indian
scholars, such as Shaikh ‘A ll’s disciple Shaikh ‘Abdu’l Wahhâb M uttaqi,
settled in M ecca as teachers and preachers and became celebrated for their
encyclopedic knowledge o f all branches o f Islamic theology.
These Indian teachers in M ecca and Medina attracted other Indian scholars
who wished to specialize in Hadis. Although pilgrims from many other places
settled there, Indians in the seventeenth century enjoyed a special status,
thanks to the temporary or permanent residence o f Indian süfîs. The disciples
o f one eminent 'âlim and sufi, Shaikh W ajlhu’d-Dln Gujarati (died 1589/90),
propagated the teaching o f the Shattârï order in Mecca and Medina, whence
it spread to other parts o f the Islamic world, in particular to the M alay
archipelago.
The spread o f knowledge about Indian Islam to Acheh and Fansur in north
Sumatra would seem to have been the work o f merchants. A b u ’l F azl’s Ain-i-
Akbari shows that Fansur camphor, for instance, was greatly in demand at
Akbar’s Court, and it is not unlikely therefore that merchants from Acheh
and Fansur visited Delhi and Àgrâ, and returned home via the western Indian
ports and Mecca, where they acquired information about Indian süfîs.
The main link in the spread o f the Shattàrî order to the M alay archipelago
was Safl-u’d-Dln Ahm ad, known as QushàshI, who had been initiated into the
Shattàrî order before he left India to conduct schools in M ecca and Medina.
He was fortunate to have among his disciples ‘A bdu’r R a ü f o f Singkel. This
famous scholar, w ho is said to have been bom in Acheh in 1615, left for
M ecca in 1643. There he studied under QushàshI for nineteen years before
ìndia and the Medieval Islamic World 467
returning to Acheh, writing important sufi works in both A ra b ic and M alay.
Some o f the Indian süfîs who visited Mecca would appear to have been so
impressed with what they heard there o f Acheh, then known as the ‘ Forecourt
o f the H oly L an d ’, that they wished to visit the Court o f the Acheh rulers
themselves. One such was N üru’d-Din al-Rànîrî o f Rander, G ujarat, who
visited M ecca in 1620. In 1637 he went to Acheh and did not return home until
1644, dying in 1658. He wrote several works in A rabic and M alay, the most
significant being his süfic work, Asràr-al-Insân {Secrets o f Human Beings), and
his Bùstàn al Salatili {Garden o f Kings), a history o f the kings o f A cheh on the
lines o f those o f the regional sultans o f India.
In the seventeenth century the Naqshbandî order became a channel through
which sufi works, and Indian ones in particular, were popularized throughout
the Arabic- and Turkish-speaking world. A prominent member o f this order
was Shaikh T âju’d-Dïn. After the death in 1603 o f his preceptor, K hw âja
Bâql Bi’ llâh, he tried in vain to gain supremacy over Shaikh Ahm ad Sarhindi
in spiritual matters; he then left for Mecca. He translated from Persian into
Arabic K â sh iffs Rashahât ‘Ain ul-Hayât {Distillations o f the Spring o f Life), a
leading work on N aqshbandî history and doctrines, and wrote in A rabic him
self on the N aqshbandî order. M any o f the important disciples he initiated
came from Java and Sumatra, where they in turn spread Naqshbandî influence.
T âju’d-Dîn is much quoted, for instance, in the A rabic treatises o f Shaikh
Y ü su f o f M acassar (Borneo). Shaikh Yüsuf, who flourished in the second half
o f the seventeenth century, was à very influential figure at the Court o f Sultan
H ajjl (1682-7) o f Bantam, the last o f the independent sultans in this region.
In 1656-7 Shaikh Ahm ad Sarhindi’s sons, K hw âja Muham m ad Sa'Id and
Khw âja Muhammad M a'süm , went to Mecca. Their two-year visit seems to
have increased the involvement there in the controversy then raging in India
between the supporters and opponents o f Waltdatu'l Wujüd, and consequently
led to its being reflected in the works o f Sumatran scholars. Tow ards the end
o f the seventeenth or early in the eighteenth century, compilations o f the
letters o f Shaikh Ahm ad Sarhindi and Shaikh Muhammad M a'süm were
translated into Turkish, and the existence o f many copies, both manuscript
and printed,’ in the libraries o f Turkey indicates that the subject was o f con
siderable interest in that country too. In response to the inquiries o f a Turkish
correspondent, Shâh W alï-A llâh (1703-62) wrote a treatise suggesting.a com
promise between the tw o opposing views.
A rabic translation o f Sanskrit works had been going on since the end o f the
eighth century, when philosophical, astronomical, and mathematical texts
were translated for the ‘Abbàsid Court, leading to the development o f the
decimal system and the numerals now adopted throughout most o f the world.
The works o f scholars such as Shahrastânî (1076-1153), the author o f Kitàb al
M ilal wa't Nahl, a treatise in A rabic on various religions and sects, show the
influence o f Gardezi’ s Zainu'l Akhbâr, written in about 1041, and o f AI-
bïrünî’s A rabic translations o f several Sanskrit works and his own contribu
tion to the knowledge o fln d ia , Kitâb f i Tahqiq mâ L i'I Hind.
The depth o f the impact made by theistic Upanishadic concepts such as
Brahmâsmi (I am Brahma) or Tat ivam asi (Thou art that) is illustrated in
such utterances by BàyazTd Bistâml (died 874) as ‘ G lory be to me. H ow Great
468 Indio and the Medieval Islamic World
is M y M ajesty!’, and in his-assertion that he had finally shed his ego infanà
(passing away) as a snake sheds its skin ; and also in the celebrated declaration
o f the great süfi martyr Hallàj (executed in 922) : Ana'l Hag (1 am Truth). It is
not known whether Bàyazîd had any contact with Indians (the story o f his
learning the doctrine o f fana from a Sindi teacher is a myth), but Hallàj was
definitely in personal contact with Buddhist scholars. The Indian system o f
breath control, prânàyâma, became an integral and increasingly important
part o f sQfism in Iran and Ghazni as early as the tenth century.
Hujwiri (died after 1088) speaks o f the Hashwiyya and Mujassima (anthro-
pomorphist) sufi orders in Khurasan, whose ideas on Unification were in
fluenced by brahmanicai concepts. Although they said they were Muslims,
they denied that the Prophets were specially privileged. Annihilation or fanà
does not involve among the süfîs the loss o f essence and destruction o f per
sonality, but according to Hujwiri some süfîs did regard the soul in a brah
manicai light. Tbe following verse by M aulânâ Jalàlu’d-D în Rüm ï (1207-73)
presents man in microcosmic terms similar to Brahmanicai terminology con
cerning the transmigration o f the soul:
I died as m ineral and becam e a plant
I died as plant and rose to anim al
I died as anim al and I was a M an .
W h y should I fe a r? W hen was I less by d yin g?
Y e t once m ore I shall die as M an , to so ar
W ith angels blest; but even from angelhood
I m ust pass o n : all except G o d doth perish.
W hen I have sacrificed m y angcl-soul,
I shall becom e what n o jn in d e’er conceived.
O h, let m e n ot exist! for N on-existence
Proclaim s in organ tones: ‘ T o H im shall w e re tu rn !’
were arrested by the Portuguese and sent to Goa. Eventually, however, they
escaped and, after many adventures, three o f them, Ralph Fitch, John New-
bery, and William Leedes, reached the Imperial Court at À g râ in 1585, but
only the first-named returned alive to England. Fitch describes À g râ as ‘ a
very great city and populous, built with stone, having fair and large streets,
with a fair river running by it, which falleth into the gu lf o f Bengala. It hath a
fair castle and a strong, with a very fair ditch.’ In 1608 the East India Com
pany received permission from the Emperor Jahângîr to hire a house to serve
as a factory on the banks o f the Tâptl at Surat, and this was the cradle o f the
British Empire in India.
But the English came to India as merchants, not as antiquarians or ex
plorers, and were little interested in the religion or culture o f the country. An
exception may be made in the case of the two chaplains, Lord and Ovington.
Henry Lord’s Display o f Two Forraigne Sects in the East Indies (1630) is the
first English account o f the Hindus and Pârsîs o f Surat, and Ovington's
Voyage to Surat in the Year 1689 also contains a number o f lively and interest
ing observations. There was, however, a steady stream o f travel literature re
lating to India in the seventeenth century, and upon one great poet the magic
o f the ‘ Silken E ast’ reacted powerfully. John Milton, sitting in blind solitude,
‘ by darkness and by dangers compassed round’, must have been deeply im
pressed by the accounts o f the M ughal Empire given by travellers like Sir
Thomas Roe, and it is probable that he heard more than one o f them first
hand. When we read how
H igh on a throne o f royal state, w hich far
O u tshon e the w ealth o f O rm uz or o f Ind,
O r where the gorgeous East with richest hand
S how ers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold
Satan exalted sat
our minds instinctively go back, as M ilton's must have gone back, to R oe’s
dramatic first interview with the Emperor Jahangir, when ‘ high on a gallery,
with a canopy over him and a carpet before him, sat in great barbarous state
the Great M ogul ’. References to India in M ilton’s epic are alm ost too numer
ous to be quoted, but few can forget the wonderful description o f the fig-tree,
beneath the branches o f which A dam and Eve take refuge after eating the
forbidden fruit:
T h e y chose
T h e figtree, not that kin d for fruit renow ned,
B u t such as, at this day to Indians kn ow n ,
In M a la b a r or D eccan spreads her arm s,
B ran ch in g so broad and long, that in the ground
T h e bended twigs take root, and daughters grow
A b o u t th e m other tree, a pillared shade,
H ig h over-arched, with echoin g w alks betw een;
T h e re o ft the Indian herdsm an, shunning heat,
Shelters in co o l, and tends his pastu rin g herds
A t loop-h oles, cu t through thickest shade.*
1 F o r o th er refe re n c e s to th e In d ia n fig-tree in E n g lis h lite ra tu re s e e th e a r tic le o u 'B a n y a n
T r e e ’ in Y u le ’s Hobson-Jobson.
472 India and the Modern tVesl
The flying Fiend, winging his way through the air, suggests to him a fleet of
East Indiamen under fui! sail,
B y equinoclial winds
C lose sailing from Bengala, o r the isles
O f T ernate and Tidore, whence m erchants bring
T heir spicy drugs.
Asiatic proper names had a peculiar attraction for M ilton, and he uses them
with magnificent effect in the Vision o f Adam, where he beholds
the destined w alls
O f C am balu, seat o f Cathaian C an ,
A n d Sam archand b y O xus, T em ir’s throne,
T o T aqu in o f Sinaean kings, and thence,
T o A g r a and L a h o re o f G reat M o g u l. . .
M o m b a za and Q u iloa and M elind
A n d S ofala thought Ophir.
Nor, lastly, can we omit the beautiful and arresting little pen-picture of
T h e utm ost Indian isle, T ap roban e,
D u s k faces with white silken turbants wreathed.
3 Hindu Manners, Customs, and Ceremonies;i&iy. The Abbé wandered about south India
from 1792 to,1323/and had unique opportunities for observation, which he utilized to the
full. "- •=. ' '
India and the Modern West 473
o f D arà. This fell into the hands o f another famous French traveller and
scholar, AnquetilD uperron, who in l'j'ji had discovered the A vesta, D u perron
translated it into a strange mixture o f Latin, Greek, and Persian in 1801, and
this caught the attention o f the German philosopher Schopenhauer.
M eanwhile, in British India, W arren Hastings was encouraging the study o f
Sanskrit for purely utilitarian reasons. He was engaged in drawing up a code
o f laws for the C om pany’s Hindu subjects, and for this purpose it was neces
sary to obtain an accurate knowledge o f the ancient Sanskrit law-books. In
1785 Charles Wilkins published a translation o f the Bhagavad Gita, the first'
rendering o f a Sanskrit w ork into English, and a few years later Sir W illiam
Jones (1746-94), the real pioneer o f Sanskrit studies and the founder of.the
Asiatic Society o f Bengal, produced his famous version of the Code o f M anu,
the greatest o f the Hindu law-books. In 1789 a brâhman pandit told him o f the
existence o f the Sanskrit drama, and in that year he astonished the Western
world by a translation o f K alidasa’s famous masterpiece èakuntalâ. Scholars
now prosecuted the search for Sanskrit manuscripts with the avidity o f ex
plorers seeking for Australian goldfields, and the study o f Sanskrit was put
upon a scientific footing by H. T. Colebrooke (1765-1837), the greatest o f all
the early Sanskrit scholars.
Here4 mention should be made o f what is probably the earliest European
novel about India, written from first-hand experience. This is Hartly House
Calcutta, the work o f an anonymous author, apparently a lady,"published in
London in 1789. Evidently the writer had had first-hand experience o f the
Calcutta o f Hastings’s day, and her w ork combines the characteristics o f a
novel and a travel book. Like many o f the novels o f the period it is in the form,
o f a series o f letters written by the heroine, Sophia Gotdborne, to.ajclose lady
friend in England. It is o f small literary merit, but a pirated edition appeared
in D ublin in the year o f publication and a German translation two years
later.s
The novel gives an interesting picture o f the luxurious life o f the Calcutta
nabobs, as seen by their ladies. Its most significant feature, from the historian’s
point o f view, is its very sympathetic attitude to Hinduism. Sophia, who ad
mires their music and dancing, writes thus about ‘ the Gentoos ‘ : 6 ‘ T hey live...
the most inoffensively and happily o f all created beings— their Pythagorean
tenets teaching them, from_their earliest infancy, the lesson o f kindness and
benevolence’ . (Letter X II.) She meets a young brahman, a student o f ‘ the
Gentoo university at Benares’ , with whom she falls platonically in love. She
understands the broad principles o f the Hindu class system, w hich she
approves of, and she admires the brahmans who have 'countenances such as
G uido would have bestowed on a heavenly saint’ . She seems to have no ob
jection to Hintju idolatry and she even admires the devoted self-sacrifice o f the
salt. She is half-inclined to believe the doctrine o f transmigration. She is
taught the principles o f Hinduism by her brâhman student, and in one letter
she even states that she has become a Hindu. ‘ Ashamed o f the manners o f
modern C hristian ity. . . I am become a convert to the Gentoo faith, and have
4 This and the following paragraph are inserted by the Editor.
5 A reprint, annotated by John Macfarlanc, was published by Thacker, Spink and Co.,
Calcutta, 1908. 4 i.e. the Hindus; from the Portuguese gentio, ‘ gentile’.
474 India and the Modern West
my Brarnin Jj/c] to instruct me per diem,' (Letter X X V I,) The convenient death
o f the brâhman (‘ O ! he was ail that heaven has ever condescended to make
human nature— and I will raise a pagoda to his memory in my heart, that shall
endure till that heart beats no m ore’) makes it possible for Sophia to marry
without misgivings the young East India Com pany officer who has been pay
ing her court (‘ for much did he honour and prize my Bram in’) (Letter X X X II),
and return to England. The novel is a striking comment on the effects o f self-
confldent nineteenth-century imperialism and o f the rise o f the Evangelical
movement on the attitudes o f the British in India.
Sanskrit was introduced into Europe by a curious accident. One o f the
East India Com pany's servants, Alexander Hamilton, was detained in Paris
during the N apoleonic Wars. He spent his time in. cataloguing the Indian
manuscripts in the Bibliothèque N ationale and in teaching Sanskrit, and
am ong his pupils was the Germ an poet and philosopher Friedrich von
Schlegel. Schlegel, on his return to Germ any, published his work On the
Language and Wisdom o f die Indians (1808). This sudden discovery o f a vast
literature, which had remained unknown for so many centuries to the
Western world, was the most im portant event o f its kind since the rediscovery
o f the treasures o f classical Greek literature at the Renaissance, and luckily it
coincided with the German Rom antic revival. The Upanishads came to
Schopenhauer as a new Gnosis or revelation.
That incom parable b o o k [he says] stirs the spirit to the very depths o f the soul. From
every sentence deep, original, and sublim e thoughts arise, and the w h ole is pervaded
by a high and holy and earnest spirit. Indian air surrounds us, and original thoughts
o f kindred spirits. A n d oh, how th orou ghly is the mind here washed clean o f all
early engrafted Jewish superstitions! In the w h ole world there is n o stud y, except
ihat o f the originals, so beneficial and so elevatin g as that o f the Oupnekhat, It has
been the solace o f m y life, it w ill be the so lace o f m y death.7
The Western response to Indian culture, which manifested itself in the ways
just mentioned among others, came to its first culmination at the end o f the
eighteenth and the beginning o f the nineteenth century.5 However, a great
number o f Western poets, essayists, novelists, and philosophers continued to
be indebted to the cultural heritage o f the south Asian subcontinent.
We must thank the great scholars of Indology for providing the Western
approach to India with a scientific foundation. Indology started with Sir
William Jones, who declared in his presidential address to the Asiatic Society
o f Bengal in 1786, that Sanskrit, Greek, Latin, and probably the Celtic and
Teutonic languages, sprang from a common source, no longer existing; and
this led to the foundation o f the science o f Com parative Philology by Franz
Bopp in 1816. ‘ I fI were asked’, says M ax Millier, ‘ w hatI considered the most
important discovery o f the nineteenth century with respect to the ancient
history o f mankind, I should answer by the following short line: Sanskrit
Dyaus Pitar = Greek Zeus /7ar7jp = Latin Jnpiter = Old Norse T y r.’
A t first, scholars had been mainly confined to classical Sanskrit, though
Jones and Colebrooke had both seen some Vedas. Gradually, however, manu
scripts were obtained, and in 1838 Rosen published the first edition o f some o f
9 S ee R . S c h w a b , La Renaissance orientale, P a ris, 1950.
473 India and the Modern West
the hymns o f the Rig Veda. Milestones in Indotogy were the Sanskrit dic
tionaries o f Bôhtlingk (Petersburger Wôrterbuch) and Monier-Williams,
Aufrecht’s Catalogus Catalogorum, and editions o f famous Sanskrit texts.
Rosen’s w ork was carried on by Burnouf, Roth, and M ax Muller, and from
their patient researches sprang the study o f Comparative Religion, which has
had an effect upon modern thought only comparable to that o f Darwin's
Origin o f Species, M ax M üller said that the two great formative influences in
his life were the Rig Veda and the Critique o f Pure Reason. The publication, in
1875, o f the first o f the great series o f the Sacred Books o f the East, under the
editorship o f M ax Müller, made the Hindu scriptures available for the first
time to the ordinary reader; and here, perhaps, is the proper place to pay
homage to the great scholar who did so much not only to popularize Sans
krit learning, but also to break down the barriers o f prejudice and misconcep
tion between East and West. Sanskrit led to Ptili, and the study o f the Buddhist
scriptures revealed for the first time to the West thè life and teachings o f the
greatest o f all Indian religious reformers, Gautama Buddha. Pioneers in
Buddhist studies were Burnouf, Lassen, Rhys Davids, Stcherbatsky and
Trenckner. Standard works appeared on Indian history, literature, religion,
and linguistics. Scholars from nearly all Western countries took part in this
research, not only from England, France, and Germany (still the majority),
but from Poland and N orway, from Switzerland and Denm ark, etc. Western
research led to a new orientation in India itself, and collaboration between
Indian and Western scholars has always proved most fruitful since the days o f
Sir W illiam Jones and even long before, in the days o f the first travellers and
missionaries.
It would be out o f place here to make more than a passing reference to the
work o f archaeologists. Generations o f devoted scholars, including Horace
'Hayman Wilson, Alexander Cunningham, Sir John M arshall, and Sir
Mortim er Wheeler, have wrested from oblivion, brick by brick and stone by
stone, the long-buried secrets o f India’s glorious past. In 1834 James Prinsep,
by discovering the clue to the Kharoshthî alphabet from the bilingual
Bactrian coins, enabled scholars for the first time to read the early inscrip
tions, the contents o f which had hitherto baffled interpretation, and so to re
construct the pre-Muhammadan history o f the country. In the present century,
the excavation o f the remains o f the Indus civilization, carried out by British
and Indian archaeologists, has fundamentally altered our approach to south
Asian history. ■>
In addition to the scientific exploration o f Indian civilization, a great num
ber o f popular books, such as Sir Edwin A rnold’s famous poem on the
Buddha, The Light o f Asia (1879), have increased our knowledge o f Indian
religion and philosophy. It is even more through the medium o f such books
than through the works o f specialists that Western, poets and thinkers have
become acquainted with India.
In France, Lamartine, Victor Hugo, and Alfred de V igny bear witness to
the fascination o fln d ia in the course o f tfye nineteenth century. One o f H ugo’s
poems is modelled on a passage from the Kena Upanishad.10 Exoticism and
10L . Renou, The Influence o f Indian Thought on French Literature, The Adyar Library,
ìndia and the Modern West 479
symbolism were am ong the new literary movements in which Indian culture
evoked a response, in the form o f M allarm é’s Contes indiens or Pierre L o ti’s
picturesque travel book L ’Inde sans les anglais, for instance. In Poland, the
representatives o f M loda Polska (the Young Poland party) were inspired by
Indian religiosity, as is shown by K . Przerwa-Tetmajer's Hymn do Nirwany
(1894), for instance. N o t seldom, however, do we find references which show
little more than a taste for the exotic and exaggerated. One example amongst
many is found in Apollinaire’s La Chanson du M al-Aim é:
L ’époux ro y al de Sacontale
Las de vaincre se réjouit
Q u an d il la retrou va plus pâle
D ’attente et d’am our y eu x pâlis
Caressant sa gazelle m âle . . ,
Y e t it is more than ‘ the retrospect brought forw ard’, it is the truly romantic
appeal which attracts him to India:
Passage indeed O soul to prim al th o u g h t. . .
T o rea so n ’ s early paradise,
B a c k , b a c k to w isdom ’s birth, to innocent intuitions,
A ga in w ith fa ir creation.
New York Daily Tribune. While M arx restricted himself to the assumption of
an ‘ Asiatic mode o f production’ , Lenin imposed the Marxist theory o f the five
stages o f historical development on the interpretation o f the history o f India
and other Asian countries.
In works such as Yoga und der Westen (1936) and Über Mandalasymbolik
(1938), .the psychologist C . G . Jung showed how modern psychology could
elucidate Y o g a and Tantrism, and even profit by a confrontation with these
systems. According to Jung, the ‘ psychology o f the unconscious’ has its
counterpart in the klesas (afflictions) o f Indian mystical psychology, although
with the basic difference that Y o ga knows no moral conflict. Jung’s psychology
o f the ‘ collective unconscious’ was applied by Heinrich Zimmer to the inter
pretation o f Indian myths and symbols.
A s far as the fine arts are concerned, Indian influence has been restricted to
occasional adaptations. John N ash was commissioned by George IV when
Prince o f Wales to construct the R oyal Pavilion at Brighton, for example, and
this became the m ost extravagant specimen o f M ughal architecture in the
West, demonstrating the nineteenth-century ‘ Indian taste’ . In Great Britain
theVe were even country-houses built in Indian style. N ow adays the Indian
word ‘ bungalow ’ has become a widespread term in the West for the modern
one-storey villa.
In India itself, colonial rule led to strange but fascinating amalgamations o f
European and Oriental styles o f architecture. After Independence, .Albert
Mayer and Le Corbusier designed the new capital o f the Indian state o f
Panjab at Chandigarh, which developed into a remarkable mixture o f
Western functionalism and Indian town-plauning. Since 1968 a new cosm o
polis has been under construction near Pondicherry: Auroville, named after
Sri Aurobindo. In accordance with bis philosophy it is to become a city o f
human unity with the Tem ple o f Truth (Mâtrimandir) in the centre— a virtual
mandala in the form o f a town constructed by all nations and open to all
mankind.
W hile East Asian, Polynesian, and African art has had a remarkable in
fluence on modern Western painting, the appeal o f India has been less evident,
although there are cases in which it is apparent, such as in E. L. K irchner’s
style in a picture like/Vatre/i imBade, which owes something to the representa
tion o f women in the Ajantâ frescoes as depicted by Griffith. A . K u bin was
devoted to Buddhism, but the inspiration for his ‘ Sansara’ collection is to be
found in the Japanese colour prints o f H okusai rather than in Indian Buddhist
works. And several o f Gauguin’s sculptures (Idole à la perle, Idole à la coquille)
are iconographically indebted to Borobudur rather than to any Indian model.
The sculptor Brancusi was attracted by Indian and Tibetan mysticism
(Milaraspa) and he designed a Temple ofLiberation for the M aharaja o f Indore.
His sculptures represent abstract conceptions, however; his wooden figure, the
Spirit o f Buddha (in the Guggenheim Museum), using the spiral as a symbol o f
transcendence, for example. Although there is no hint in ancient Indian liter-
ture o f religious experience being induced by the use o f drugs, modern psyche
delic art, as exemplified in the w ork o f A . Atwell for one, shows a predilection
for mandatas, and names pictures after Indian concepts, for example
I. Abram s’s A ll Things are Part o f One Thing.
India and Ihe Modern IVest 485
In the early 1950s, Indian classical music was introduced into western
Europe and North Am erica, mainly through the pioneering efforts o f Pandit
Ravi Shankar and, a few years later, Ustàd A li A k b ar Khân. These two emi
nent musicians gave concerts in many cities o f the world, sometimes to small
audiences and for insignificant remuneration, but their incredible technique
and musicianship did not pass unnoticed, and by the beginning o f the 1960s
they were already performing to fuit concert-halls, at least in the larger cities.
Admittedly the audiences often consisted mostly o f Indians, but more and
more Westerners were gradually being brought into the fold. A s news o f their
success reached India, other famous musicians, such as Ustàd Vilâyat Khân,
Ustàd Imrat Khân, Ustàd Bismillah Khân, and Pandit Nikhit Bannerjee,
were persuaded to visit the West and were received by groups o f enthusiastic
followers. Perhaps Indian music might never have reached much beyond a
select audience if it were not for the fact that Yehudi Menuhin and the
‘ Beatles’ became interested in it. Menuhin’s interest was an important factor
in conveying to the ‘ serious’ musicians o f the W est that Indian music was a
complex and sophisticated musical form which had retained a feeling o f
spontaneity and audience communication in spite o f being a system o f
classical music.
Apart from the fact that there is a growing awareness o f Indian music, and
that a few modern composers such as Alan Hovhancss, Peter Feuchtsvanger,
John Barham, and Olivier Messiaen have tried to utilize elements o f Indian
music in their compositions, there does not appear to have been much impact
on ‘ serious’ music in the West.
The ‘ B eatle’ involvement with Indian music and with Ravi Shankar did,
however, result in a short period of hysteria when numerous ‘ pop’ and jazz
groups, and films, as well as radio and television advertisements, incorporated
the sound o f the sitâr and labki, largely to be in with the ‘ craze’ . The sitar be
came fashionable, as did Ravi Shankar; Indian music was swept along on a
wave o f popularity, but it was clear from the outset that it was the sound o f the
instruments which was the focal point o f the craze, not Indian music in itself.
Some o f the “ Beatles” songs do, o f course, show the influence o f Indian
culture, but their achievement lies rather in broadening the horizon o f ‘ pop’
music than in channelling it in any one direction. B y using Indian instruments
and some Indian philosophical ideas, they showed how foreign elements
could be incorporated into the mainstream o f Western ‘ po p’ culture. Purely
from the musical point o f view, those o f their compositions which are said to
been influenced by Indian music are not particularly Indian, nor do they have
the spirit o f Indian music. One recognizes the occasional Indian motif, the
tambürâ drone and the modal basis, but this appears to be the full extent of
the influence. The unique properties o f the sitâr, for instance, the technique o f
producing sliding tones by deflecting the melody string sideways, have not
been utilized by these ‘ p o p ’ musicians. On the rare occasions when this tech
nique has been used it has sounded like a parody, for accurate intonation by
this method requires a long period o f training. Perhaps the influence o f Indian
music on popular music in the West can be seen in the gradually increasing
use o f drone-likc effects, the greater use o f modes, and the more frequent use
o f melisma in the songs.
486 ìndia and the Modern West
The moment o f hysteria is now over, but a few more non-Indians have be
come seriously involved with Indian classical music. Conscious attempts at
fusing Indian and Western music have not been particularly successful as yet.
It would appear that most o f these attempts were premature and based on an
incomplete understanding o f one or the other system. Ethnomusicology pro
grammes in many universities, especially in N orth America, have been de
veloping over the last decade. Some o f these are focused on the music o f Asia,
and a better understanding o f Indian music could well lead to new develop
ments and more realistic attempts at fusion.
A part from the large number o f scholars in Europe and America who are
engaged on research work in all fields o f Indology, people in all walks o f lire
in the West are once more fascinated by India. Incense sticks and j/Vnr-playing,
Indian hemp and the Indian look, are accessories in the life ó f the ‘ psyche
delic generation’ . Indian influence is apparent in ‘ pop’ art and ‘pop’ music.
M any young people strive for esoteric initiation. Mahàgurus from India or
from the West teach the experience o f unity with the universe. The use o f
drugs is given a religious motivation, and Varanasi and Kathmandu have be
come hippy Meccas. ‘ Flower pow er’ is advocated against aggressiveness.
N ever before have the achievements o f technology been so conspicuous as
today when man has set his foot on the moon. Despite, or in consequence of,
these efforts, the influence o f India, where the accent has always been on.
spirituality, is having a second renaissance.
C H A PTER XXXV
Conclusion
by A. L. Basham
law and order and kept the machinery o f government in motion in very
difficult circumstances. A third factor making for stability was the very sense
o f freedom, the faith in the democratic process which most of the more
politically minded Indiaus and Pakistanis had learnt, chiefly from the West.
N ow that their lands were free parliamentary democracies, there was reason
able hope that regional and sectional wrongs would be righted without blood
shed.
Whatever strains may have been imposed upon it, democracy has survived
in India. Unlike m ost former colonial countries, India is a land where the
critic can still freely express his dislike o f the government, in the press, in the
public meeting, and in the polling booth. Political consciousness, if sometimes
of a rather naïve kind, has permeated every section o f the population, and
even the small peasant in the outlying village is aware o f his power as an
elector. It is this, perhaps more than any other factor, which has held India
together. In Pakistan, on the other hand, democracy did not take root so
firmly. With the imposition o f m ilitary dictatorship the two sections o f the
state lost their cohesion, for the government was o'ne o f West Pakistan. Thus
the Bengali inhabitants o f the Eastern wing saw no prospect o f legitimately
redressing their grievances, and soon their loyalty to the very idea o f Pakistan
began to waver, ultimately resulting in repression, carnage, and the birth o f the
state o f Bangladesh. Had Pakistan continued to be governed by a stable
democratic system, her two wings might yet have held together. In India, on
the other hand, incipient Separatist movements in some parts o f the country
were contained and pacified because the people as a whole had faith in the
ballot box.
Industrially South Asia has made much progress in the past twenty-five
years. The Gàndhlan policy o f local self-sufficiency based on cottage indus
tries and small-scale production is virtually forgotten, and large-scale indus
try, much o f it state-owned or state-controlled, is the order o f the day
throughout the sub-continent. Striking industrial progress has been made,
though, allowing for differences o f size and population, this is not as impres
sive as the economic progress made by certain other formerly backward
countries with more uncompromisingly capitalist regimes, such as Taiwan,
South K orea, and Iran— not to speak o f communist China.
The material, and to some extent the cultural, progress o f both India and
Pakistan has been set back by the armed confrontation o f the two states,
occasionally boiling over into brief hostilities. The loss, both human and
material, incurred by the two countries as a result o f this confrontation has
been very considerable, and stable peace and co-operation between India and
Pakistan are absolutely essential before real prosperity can be achieved. In
dia’s efforts to raise her standards have also been set back by another factor.
Following on the occupation o f Tibet, China laid claim to certain frontier
areas o fln d ia and proceeded to occupy them. Thus India was forced to di
vert a greater proportion o f her national income to military expenditure,
without being able to dislodge the Chinese.
M eanwhile alt the nations o f the sub-continent have had to face a terrible
problem which at the time o f partition seemed to most observers a cloud no
bigger than a man's hand— the ‘ population explosion’. W e have no clear evi-
Conclusion 489
The institution o f the joint fam ily, graded heirarchically according to age
and sex, is also beginning to lose its grip on India, at least among many o f the
educated folk in the towns, though the sense o f kinship in India is still in
general much stronger than in the Western world. Younger members o f the
family are no longer so inclined to contribute to the upkeep o f impoverished
relations or to carry out the wishes o f their elders implicitly, especially when
they have reached maturity. Industrial society and the influence o f Western
social ideas are chiefly responsible for these developments, and such ideas arc
carried to a wide range o f ordinary people through the film and the popular
novel, both o f which, though in theory respecting traditional values, exploit
the Romeo-and-Juliet theme with telling effect, with the variation that the
star-crossed lovers are often members o f different castes. Though one cannot
foretell with confidence, it seems that, if modern trends continue, in fifty years’
time the social and fam ily system o f India will be little different from that o f
the contemporary W est. This forecast is not necessarily made in a spirit o f
hope or optimism, for the caste and the fam ily have in earlier times been
potent sources o f material and psychological security for the individual, and
they cannot be satisfactorily replaced by the state on the one hand and the
small nuclear family on the other. But already the old Hindu family law has
been abrogated, replaced by a new code, modelled largely on that o f the
West. D ivorce is now possible both for wives and husbands, monogam y is en
forced, and women are entitled to possess property of their own.
In politics there have been conscious attempts to revive the past in a new
form, and to fit traditional Indian conceptions into the fram ework o f twen
tieth-century democracy. T he process began early in the present century,
when able historians like R . K . M ookerjee showed with some justification
that certain villages in ancient and medieval India had local semi-democratic
ruling bodies, and when K . P. Jayaswàl, a competent Sanskritist, proved to
his own and his readers’ satisfaction that ancient India had republics and
constitutional monarchies, with popular assemblies and cabinet'government.
Jayaswàl’s handling o f his sources verged on the unscrupulous, like the clever
barrister, who by taking a crucial phrase out o f its context and interpreting its
words in a forced, unnatural manner, succeeds in persuading judge and jury
that it means something com pletely different from what its author obviously
intended. But Jayaswàl succeeded in convincing a wide audience o f educated
Indians that constitutional dem ocracy and limited monarchy were well known
to their remoter ancestors, and there was some truth in his arguments, though
his claims were greatly exaggerated.
Thus the ancient texts on polity have been ransacked for apophthegms on
statecraft appropriate to contem porary progressive democracy, socialism, and
the welfare state. Even Indian communists have utilized their country’s
ancient literature to further their ends. But this is hardly evidence o f the sur
vival o f India’s political legacy, but rather the use o f that legacy, otherwise
almost forgotten except in academ ic circles, to support political concepts
which are in fact modern imports.
The hereditary is still strong in many aspects o f Indian life, but the Indian
tradition o f monarchy has been undermined by contemporary values. The
Hindu o f earlier centuries was used to obeying a charismatic hereditary
Conclusion 491
ruler who lived in great luxury and pomp and was thought by many o f his
subjects to be in some sense divine. T he M uslim sultans, bâdshâhs, and
nawâbs did not claim divinity but the justification o f hereditary principles was
made by their apologists. They too lived in luxury and pom p, far above the
heads o f their subjects. T he British rulers o fln d ia , especially after the Sepoy
Revolt, recognized this tradition in Indian political life and preserved the
maharajas as tributary kings, while their viceroys enjoyed a pom p and circum
stance hardly equalled by that o f the British monarchs whom they represen
ted.
The events o f 1947 changed all this. Gândhian ethics on the one hand and
progressive Western political ideas on the other were not particularly favour
able even to limited monarchy, far less to that o f a king hedged about with
charismatic splendour. In this Hindu India was definitely untrue to her trad
itions, and one wonders whether she did not make a mistake in this respect.
Shortly before independence, when the Cabinet Mission o f 1946 was vainly
attempting to bring Hindus and Muslims together in a last effort to avoid
partition, a number o f fairly important Indians put forward a suggestion that
received very little publicity and no support whatever. This was to the effect
that, when the British withdrew from India, power should law fully rest with the
M ughal Empire, in the person o f the closest sucviving relative o f the last em
peror, Bahadur Shâh II, who died in exile in 1862. This man, it was suggested,
should become the.constitutional emperor o f a free India.
Such a suggestion had no hope o f acceptance by the political leaders in the
atmosphere o f the times. It was, however, in keeping with India’s traditions,
and it had the advantage that it would have effectively prevented the partition
o f the country, for a restored M ughal emperor, ruling from D elhi, would
surely have won enough Muslim support to undermine the movement for
Pakistan. From the point o f view o f strict legality, it may have been the right
thing to do. One wonders how India would have fared if this suggestion had
been adopted. A s it is, even the tributary maharajas have lost all their powers
and privileges and much o f their wealth, so strongly has the twentieth century
affected the thought o f India’s rulers. Possibly in many o f the form er princely
states the common man still feels respect, and in some cases affection also, for
his former ruler and his family, but it seems that the tradition o f m onarchy
has gone fo r ever in India, as it has in most other parts o f the world. India is
certainly less colourful as a result.
In one respect, however, the Indian government has consciously tried to
revive past political traditions. This is in the establishment o f elected village
councils, continuing the tradition o f the panchâyats. These committees o f
about five village elders, generally the most substantial peasants o f the com
munity, usually holding office by heredity or appointed by co-option, were
most vigorous when the central government was weak. T h ey declined in
influence in British days, but they are now again active, as small dem ocratic
units o f the governmental system.
In the field o f the arts the fate o f India’s ancient heritage has varied. The
classical tradition o f music, once reserved for the rich, is now available to
much larger audiences through the radio and the electronically amplified per
formance in a large hall. A unique genre o f popular music, a hybrid o f Indian
492 Conclusion
and Western conventions, com m only known as Jilmî git (‘ film song') is
immensely popular. Decried by conservatives and purists, it is nevertheless
(in the opinion o f one observer at least) am ong the finest music o f its kind
composed anywhere in the world. The wonderful traditions o f the Indian
dance (an aspect o f the legacy o f India which we have not been able to cover
in this book), once mainly exploited by devadâsis (temple-prostitutes) and
courtesans, have been made respectable, and classical dances are performed
before large audiences. On the other hand Western dancing, whether ballet
or ballroom, has not ‘ caught o n ’, and few Indians are interested in it.
In the field o f the visual arts the ancient traditions, whether Hindu or
Muslim, have virtually disappeared. M odern buildings, often in hybrid
Hindu-Muslim styles with a few twentieth-century functional features added
for good measure, have appeared in all the great cities, alongside others
which have nothing distinctively Indian about them at all. Architecturally the
latter are usually the more pleasing. The wonderful traditions o f Hindu
classical sculpture have been dead for many centuries. N ow sculpture is
perhaps the weakest o f the arts in India, and few traces o f the Indian tradition
are to be seen in the products o f post-independence ateliers. The tradition o f
Indian painting seems also to be lost. In the closing years of the last century a
group o f able Bengâlï artists, led by Abanïndranâth Tâgore, brother o f the
great poet, tried to develop a typically Indian style o f painting, based on the
murals o f Ajantâ and the Rajput and Pahârl miniature schools, but this
school, its productions always rather effeminate, survives only in the humbler
fields o f applied painting, such as book illustration and the designing o f
greeting cards. Later the greatest o f modern Indian painters, Jâminî Roy,
developed a very personal style based on the folk art o f his native Bengal.
His followers, like those o f Abanïndranâth Tâgore, are now mainly concerned
with the production o f advertisements and greeting cards. The woman painter
Am ritâ Sher Gil, half-Sikh and half-Hungarian, developed a beautiful and
individual style, but it was more European than Indian in inspiration, though
she paintèd Indian subjects. N ow there is probably no good Indian painting,
though there is plenty o f good painting in India. The w ork o f the best painters
o f modern. India is not true Indian painting— it is international painting
which happens to b eproduced by Indians.
Literature flourishes. Probably more poems are composed in India, in
proportion to the population, than in any part o f Europe or Am erica, though
thé Far East and Iran may rival India in this. Poems are still com posed ac
cording to strict conventions and traditions, especially in U rdù, but here too
the influence o f the West is apparent, and all the major trends in Western
poetry writing have had their impact on India. The novel and short story also
flourish, in all the languages o fln d ia including English. Here too the influence
o f the West is felt, but o f course the tradition is also in evidence. T he stories
o f the epics and Purânas provide most Indian writers with material for meta
phors and similes, as, until recently, the Bible and the classical w orld pro
vided an easily available stock o f allusions to writers o f Europe and America.
N ow adays the most popular form o f aesthetic entertainment, for the
average Indian, is the film. The Western observer, who has seen only a few
Indian films o f the very highest quality, such as those made by Satyajit Ray,
Conclusion 493
may obtain a very false impression o f the character o f the more popular
cinema. The ‘ highbrow ’ Indian film may give a vivid, accurate, and moving
picture o f one or other aspect o f Indian life, but its style and technique are
essentially international. The legacy o f the past survives better (some would
say in a degenerate and perverted form) in the popular films made by the big
commercial film companies o f Bom bay and Madras. These films o f epic
length, immensely popular with the masses, were once divided into two
broad classess, according to the terminology o f their distributors, ‘ mythologi
c a l’ and ‘ social’, with a third, smaller category ‘ historical’, giving thoroughly
inaccurate pictures o f the great men and women o f India from Chandragupta
M aurya to the R ani o f Jhânsî. N ow adays ‘ m ythological'-film s, telling very
freely adapted stories o f the gods and heroes, with many interludes o f song
and dance and wonderful effects produced by trick photography, are be
coming progressively less popular, and few are made. The emphasis o f Indian
production is on the ‘ social’ film, dealing with contemporary and near-con
temporary life. Here the influence o f Hollywood is clearly in evidence, but
nevertheless these films have a distinctively Indian flavour which commer
cialism cannot suppress, for the public will not have it otherwise. Intense
melodrama, tear-jerking partings and reunions, the hero or heroine (or both)
saved from a dreadful fate at the last minute, the conventional exaggerated
over-acting, much reinforced by carefully controlled gestures, the regular in
terpolation o f songs and dances, without which the average film-goer would
demand the return o f his admission fee— all these features show a striking
continuity with the ancient Indian dramatic tradition, particularly as exempli
fied by such plays as âüdraka’s Little Clay Cart and Bhavabhüti’s Malati and
Màdhava. It is very doubtful if there has been any conscious transmission o f
the dramatic tradition from the Sanskrit play to the film— rather the taste o f
the Indian audience has remained stable over the centuries, and still demands
the same strong simple melodrama as it did in-the past. It is fashionable
among educated Indians to decry the popular film (though many o f them arc
its secret devotees); but it is in a class by itself, and in its techniques, though
not always in its content, it is thoroughly in line with the Indian dramatic
tradition. M oreover its pleasant songs and delightful dances provide evidence
o f how Indian culture can still absorb foreign elements and make them dis
tinctively its own.
Only two o f the ancient sciences o f India continue as effective elements in
the life o f the country. The traditional Indian systems o f medicine, the Hindu
ayurveda and the Perso-Islamic yünânî, are still very active. Both these sys
tems, though based in their classical forms on false premisses, are pragmati
cally effective in curing and relieving many diseases, and their drugs and
therapy are less expensive than those o f modern Western medicine. Thus
ayurveda in India and yünânl medicine in both India and Pakistan still have
an important part to play in maintaining the health o f thq?pepple, especially
o f the poorer people. In India ayurvedic practitioners are trained at special
schools, some o f them attached to universities, where they learn the elements
o f scientific physiology and biology as well as traditional-m edical lore.
W hether traditional medicine will survive once India becomes rich enough
494 Conclusion
peasants by the voluntary gift o f land on the part o f richer villagers. Sarrodaya
was very active immediately after independence, and many sympathetic ob
servers believed that it might ultimately change the face o f rural India. But it
has had little effect, in fact in present-day India the most important work for
the uplift o f the underprivileged is done by state agencies.
A nd what o f (he world’sdcgacy from India? In fields o f literature, music,
and the arts this has been far from negligible, but it can be overestimated.
Some o f India’s religious literature has made a considerable impression on the
Western world, but this has been in respect o f its spiritual content rather than
its literary form. N o classical Indian author is so well known in the English
speaking world as the Persian Omar K hayyam , thanks to Fitzgerald, or the
Chinese Li Po, thanks to Arthur W aley. Germ any has done better in pro
ducing literary translations o f classical Indian literature, but even in German
one would hardly claim that classical Indian literature had had a major im
pact. A n exception, for a while, was Tagore, who in the twenty years following
his winning the N obel Prize was widely read and admired, and was translated
into many languages. Since then his writings have lost ground in the West,
though they are still much loved and respected in India.
In music the influence o f India has been even less significant, until very
recently, when the sitar has been introduced into popular music. Nevertheless,
as pointed out in the previous chapter, the influence o f India on Western
popular music is more apparent than real. The same is true o f Western art,
though Indian classical sculpture has been increasingly admired in the present
century, and had some influence on Rodin and Epstein.
The influence o f India on the rest o f the world has always been most
strongly felt in the fields o f religion and philosophy, and this is still the case.
It is easy to overemphasize the religious content o f traditional Indian culture
— -.at all times, but especially at the present time, the land.has known a
vigorous secular life. But from the time when Charles Wilkins first translated
the Bhagauad Gita into a European language, and Anquetil Duperron the
Upanishads, it has been the ‘ spirituality’ o f India that has made the greatest
impression on the Western observer. The previous chapter has shown how,
over the last two centuries, the life o f the West has been subtly affected by
Indian religious ideas, even though it may not be fully conscious o f this.
Since Keshub Chandra Sen lectured with great success in Victorian Eng
land, a series o f Indian sages, swamis, mystics, thaumaturges and yoga
practitioners have followed his footsteps to Europe and Am erica, with varying
success. Already before the original Legacy o f India was published, the
percipient philosopher D r C . E. M. Joad, with his eye mainly on Professor
Râdhâkrishnan, could write about a cultural ‘ counter-attack from (he E ast’.
Since those days the counter-attack has intensified, especially after the Second
W orld W ar, when many people in the Western world have lost faith in their
'traditional religious valhes. The widespread psychological insecurity o f an age
without belief, the lonely inner agony o f individuals w ho feel isolated in a cold
and unfriendly cosmos immeasurable in its vacuities, have led many to turn to
India in search o f solace and strength. The ‘ counter-attack front the E a st’
has generally been inspired by intellectual Vedanta and has had most impact
nnon the well educated. It a n n e a le d to n h ilo so n h e rs a n d lite ra rv m en sneh as
Conclusion 497
Schopenhauer, Emerson, and Aldous Huxley. Some o f the most impressive
recent developments, however, are making a wider appeal, and are affecting
other classes and categories o f the people o f the West.
Thus (he streamlined Vedanta o f neo-Hindu propagandists has found a
wider response than ever before. Some have turned to the sexual mysticism o f
the-Tantras, in an age when widespread knowledge o f simple and secure con
traceptive techniques has so much altered the sexual life o f the world. Modern
India is now filled with y o u n g men and women o f all nationalities from
Europe, Am erica, and Australia, most o f them living very simply and some
suffering real hunger, who have come in search o f what to them will be the
truth, o f a deep wisdom beyond words which they hope will bring them peace
o f mind and a stable bliss transcending any o f the fugitive and inadequate
substitutes provided by sex, wine, or drugs. Few really find what they were
seeking, but many return happier and wiser than when they set out on their
pilgrimage.
Y o g a has become popular in many circles in the.W estern world, and
regular yoga classes are held in almost every city o f Western Europe, Am erica,
and Australia. Usually the form o f yoga taught by Western practitioners is
based on the Indian Itatha-yoga, ranging from simple breathing exercises to
complicated and difficult acrobatics, and m ost o f those w ho attend yoga
classes seem primarily interested in promoting their health and longevity
rather than their spiritual welfare. Am ong such forms of mystical and psychic
training the ‘ Transcendental M editation’ o f Mahesh Mahârishi has achieved
fame since it was taken up some years ago by a number o f popular enter
tainers, who gave it considerable publicity. The methods o f the Mahârishi in
inducing a state o f meditation, with a minimum o f preliminary training and
metaphysical presuppositions, are followed by a growing number o f people,
and their pragmatic effectiveness in relieving tension has been proved by con
trolled physiological and psychological tests.
A new aspect o f the counter-attack from the East is the importation not
only o f the mystical gnosis o f India, but also o f her simple faith. This is
chiefly the work o f what is generally called the Hare Krishna movement,
founded by Swàmï Prabhupâda. This society now has branches in many o f the
larger cities o f the West and its adherents follow the rituals o f the devotional
Vaishnavism o f the Chaitanya Sect o f Bengal, wearing orthodox Hindu dress
and dancing and singing in the streets. The movement is looked on by most o f
the Western public with some amusement, and its members are thought o f as
harmless cranks, but, whatever the public reaction to the Hare Krishna cult, it
is historically very significant, for now, for the first time since the days o f the
Rom an Empire, an Asian religion is being openly practised by people o f
Western origin in the streets o f Western cities.
Throughout the world the speed o f change grows faster, and two opposed
trends m ake themselves felt with increasing force. The first is the tendency for
culture to become one and the same, with slight regional variations according
to climate. This can be seen already in architecture, art, and music, and to a
lesser extent in the general values o f civilization. The other tendency is a
49» Conclusion
religious terms, but this concept, which has been the desire o f India for so
long, and the search for which has given direction and point to many o f her
best minds through all her vicissitudes, will not, we believe, disappear, what
ever the technological or political forces which affect India in the latter part
o f the twentieth century. The highest com m on factor o f the various legacies o f
India is simply the message that there are values more important than material
ones, that prosperity and political power are not the ultimate tests o f a
nation’ s greatness or o f the greatness o f an individual, that there arc aims and
purposes in man’s existence which override even the claims o f society and the
state. Alone, as best he can, whether by acceptance or detachment, the wise
man strives for a harmony transcending the temporal, a peace passing all
understanding. Few reach that goal— but the secret o f the good life is to
travel hopefully towards it.
BOOKS FOR F U R T H E R R E A D IN G
(Except where mentioned the titles are provided by the
■authors o f the chapters concerned)
CHAPTER I
Introduction
(Some general books on South Asia)
Basham, A . L. The wonder that was India. 3rd ed., London, 1967.
D e Bary, W. Th. (ed.). Sources o f Indian tradition. N ew Y o rk ; 1958.
Dodwell, H. PL (ed.). The Cambridge history o f India. 6 vols, and supplement
(vol. ii has not appeared), Cam bridge, 1922-53.
Mahar, J. Michael. India: A critical bibliography. Tucson, Arizona, 1964.
Majumdar, D . N . Races and cultures o f India. 4th ed., Bombay, 1961.
M ajunidar, R . ' C. (ed.). History and culture o f the Indian people. II vols.
London, Bombay, 1952-65.
Singhal, D. P. India and world civilization. 2 vols. Michigan State University,
1969.
Smith, V. A ., ed. Spear, T . G . P. The Oxford history o f India. Revised ed.,
Oxford, 1958.
Spate, O. H. K . India and Pakistan: a general and regional geography. 3rd ed.,
London, 1967.
C H A P T E R II
ch ap ter ill
The Early Aryans
Childe, V . G . The Aryans: a study o f Indo-European origins. London, 1926.
Crossland, R . A . ‘ Immigrants from the N orth ’, Cambridge Ancient History,
Vol. I, Chapter X X V II. Cambridge, 1967.
Geiger, W . ‘ L a Civilisation des A ry as’, L e Museon, III, pp. 430-438, and IV,
pp. 1 1-36.
La Vallée Poussin, L. de. Indo-Européens et Indo-Iraniens: l ’Inde jusque vers
300 av. J.C. Paris, 1924.
M ayrhofer, M. D ie Indo-Arier im allen Vorderasien. Wiesbaden, 1966.
Piggott, S. Prehistoric India lo 1000 B .C . London, 1962.
Tliieme, P. ‘ The “ A ry an ” gods o f the Mitanni treaties’, Journal o f the
American Oriental Society, Vol. 80 (i960), pp. 301 ff.
C HA PT ER IV
The Early Dravidians
Asher, R . E. (ed.). Proceedings o f lite second international conference-seminar
o f Tamil studies, Madras, rç6S. Vol. I. Madras, 1971.
Caldwell, R . A comparative grammar o f the Dravidian or South-Indian family
o f languages. 3rd ed., London, 1913.
Daniélou, Alain (tr.). Shilappadikaram (The Ankle Bracelet). London, 1967.
Kailasapathy, K . Tamil heroic poetry. Oxford, 1968.
Lahovary, N . Dravidian origins and the West. Bombay, 1963.
Mahadevan, I. ‘ Corpus o f the Tamil Brahmi inscriptions’ , in Seminar on in
scriptions, pp. 57-73. M adras, 1966.
M arr, John R . ‘ Letterature dravidicHe’, in Storia delle letterature d'Orienle,
Vol. IV , pp. 559-626. M ilano, 1969.
M cCrindle, J. W . Ancient India. Vol. IV . Bombay, 1885.
Nilakanta Sastri, K . A . The culture and history o f the Tamils. Calcutta, 1964.
N ilakanta Sastri, K . A . Foreign notices o f South India. Madras, 1939.
N ilakanta Sastri, K . A . A history o f South India. 3rd ed., Madras, 1966.
Parpola, A sko, and others. Decipherment o f the Proto-Dravidian inscriptions
o f the Indus civilization. Scandinavian Institute o f Asian Studies Special
Publications N os. 1 to 3. Copenhagen, 1969-70.
Schoff, W . H. (tr.). Periplus o f the Erythraean Sea, with translation and anno
tation. Philadelphia, 1912.
Thani N ayagam , X. S. (ed.). Proceedings o f the first international conference-
seminar o f Tamil studies. Kuala Lumpur, 1966. V ol. I. K uala Lumpur,
1968.
CHAPTER V
Asokan India and the Gupta Age
Kosam bi, D. D . The culture and civilisation o f Ancient India. London, 1965.
Majumdar, R. C . (ed.). The Gupta-Vakataka age. Lahore, 1946.
Books fo r Further Reading 503
Majumdar, R. C. (ed.). History and culture o f the Indian people. Vol. III. The
classical age. Bombay, 1954.
Narain, A. K . The indo-Greeks. Oxford, 1957.
Nilakanta Sastri, K . A . (ed.). A comprehensive history o f India. V ol. II.
Calcutta, 1957.
Subrahmanian, N . Sangam Polity. Bom bay, 1966.
Thapar, R. Asoka and the decline o f the Mauryas. Oxford, 1961.
Warmington, E. H. Commerce between the Roman Empire and India. Cam
bridge, 1928.
Wheeler, R. E. M. Rome beyond the Imperial frontiers. London, 1957.
Yazdani, G. (ed.) The early history o f the Deccan. London, i960.
C H A P T E R VI
Medieval Hindu India
Devahuti, D. Harsha, a political study. Oxford, 1970.
Gopal, Lallanji. The economic life o f northern India (c. A .D . 700-1200)'. Delhi,
1965.
Nazim, Muhammad. Sultan Mahmud o f Ghazna. Cambridge, 1 931.
Nilakanta Sastri, K . A . The Colas. 2nd ed., M adras, 1955.
Ray, H. C. The dynastic history o f northern India. 2 vols., Calcutta, 1931-36.
Sewell, Robert. A forgotten empire ( Vijayanagar). London, 1924. (First ed.
1900).
Sharma, Brij Narain. Social life in northern India (A .D . 600-1000). Delhi,
1966.
Sharma, R. S. Indian feudalism c. 300-1200. Calcutta, 1965.
Tod, James, Annals and antiquities o f Rajasthan. Rev. ed., 2 vois., London,
1957-60 (first published, 1829).
Tripathi, R. S. History o f Kanauj. Benares, 1937 (reprints).
C H A P T E R VII
Hinduism
(compiled by the Editor)
Carpenter, J. Estliu. Theism in medieval India. London, 1921.
Crooke, W . Religion and folklore o f northern India. 2 vols., Oxford, 1926.
Eliade, M ., tr. Trask, W . R . Yoga, immortality andfreedom. (Bollirigen scries
N o . 56), New Y o rk , 1958.
Farquhar, J. N . An outline o f the religious literature o f India. 2nd ed., Oxford,
1920 (Indian reprint, 1967).
Farquhar, J. N . A primer o f Hinduism. 2nd ed., Oxford, 1912.
Gonda, J. Aspects o f early Vift.iuism. 2nd ed., Delhi, 1969.
Gonda, J. Visnuism and Sivaism. A comparison. London, 1970.
Jaiswal, Suvira. The origin and development o f Vaisyavism. Delhi, 1967.
504 Books fo r Further Reading
CHAPTER v n i
Buddhism
(compiled by the Editor)
Bareau, A . Les sectes bouddhiques du Petit Véhicule. Paris, 1955.
Conze, E. Buddhism, its essence and development. Oxford, 195 r.
Conze, E. Buddhist thought in India. London, 1962.
Dasgupta, S. B. Introduction to Tantric Buddhism. 2nd ed., Calcutta, 1958.
Keith, A. B. Buddhist philosophy in India and Ceylon. Oxford, 1923.
Lamottc, É fH istoire du Bouddhisme indien. Vol. I. Louvain, 1958.
Murti, T . R. V . The central philosophy o f Buddhism. London, 1955.
Robinson, R. 14. The Buddhist religion. Calcutta, 1970.
Stcherbatsky, T. Conception o f Buddhist Nirvana. Leningrad, 1927 (reprint,
The Hague, 1965).
Thomas, E . J. History o f Buddhist thought. London, 1933 (reprint, 1958).
Thom as, E. J. The life o f the Buddha as legend and history. London, 1927 (re
vised ed., 1951).
Warder, A . K . Indian Buddhism. Varanasi, 1970.
C H A P T E R IX
Jainism
Basham, A . L. History and doctrines o f the Ajiuikas. London, 1951. (For the
historical background o f early Jainism.)
Glasenapp, H. von. Der Jainismus. Berlin, 1925 (photographic reproduction,
1964).
Handiqui, K . K . Yasastilaka and Indian culture. Sholapur, 1949.
Jaini, J. L . Outlines o f Jainism. Oxford, 1916 (revised ed., 1940).
Kalaghatgi, T . G . Some problems in Jaina psychology. Dharw ar, 1961.
Mehta, M. L. Jaina psychology. Amritsar, 1956.
Pndmarajiah, Y . J. Jaina theories o f reality and knowledge. Bom bay, 1963.
Rcnou, L. Religions o f ancient India. London, 1953.
Schubring, W. D ie Lehre der Jainas nacli den alien Quellen dargesteih.
(Grundriss. HI. -A. Berlin, l o i s fF.noIkh translation Dnlhi inA il
Books fo r Further Reading 505
CHAPTER X
Philosophy
(compiled by the Editor)
Chatterjee, S. and D atta, D . M. An Introduction to Indian philosophy. 5th ed.,
Calcutta, 1954.
Dasgupta, S. N . A history o f Indian philosophy. 5 vols., Cambridge, 1922-55.
Dasgupta, S. N . Yoga philosophy in relation to other systems o f Indian thought.
Calcutta, 1930.
D atta, D. M. S ix ways o f knowing. 2nd ed., Calcutta, i960.
Hiriyanna, M. The essentials o f Indian philosophy. London, 1949.
Keith, A . B. Indian logic and atomism. Oxford, 1921.
Müller, F. M ax. The six systems o f Indian philosophy. London, 1919 (reprint).
Potter, Karl H . Presuppositions o f India's philosophies. Englewood Cliffs,
N.J., 1963.
Radhakrishnan, S. Indian philosophy. Revised ed., 2 vols., London, 1958.
Radhakrishnan, S. and M oore, C . A. A source book o f Indian philosophy.
Princeton, 1957.
Srinivasachari, P. N . Adoaita and Visiftâduaita. Bom bay, 1961.
CHAPTER XI
C H A P T E R XII
Science
Bhishagâcârya, G . M . History o f Indian medicine. 2 vols. Calcutta, 1923-26.
D atta, B. and Singh, A . N . History o f Hindu mathematics. 2 parts in 1 vol.,
Bom bay and London, 1962. (Has excellent bibliography at the end of
Part I.)
Filliozat, J. ‘ L ’Inde et les échanges scientifiques dans l’antiquité.’ Journal o f
World History (U N E SC O ), Vol. I, p. 353, 1953.
Filliozat, J. and others. ‘ Transmission o f scientific ideas and techniques.’
Indian Journal o f the History o f Science, V ol. V , N o . 2, Section X III, N ew
Delhi, 1970.
Gurjar, L. V . Ancient Indian mathematics and Vedha. Poona, 1947,
M enon, C . P. S. Ancient astronomy and cosmology. London, 1931.
Neugebauer, 0 . The exact sciences in antiquity. Copenhagen, 1951 ; Princeton,
1952.
Quaritch Wales, H. G . The making o f Greater India. London, 1951.
R ay, P. History o f chemistry iti ancient and mediaeval India. Indian Chemical
Society, Calcutta, 1956.
Sachau, E. C. Alberimi’s India. 2 vols, London, 1910.
Sanyal, P. K . A story o f medicine and pharmacy in India. Calcutta, 1964.
Scngupta, P. C . Ancient Indian chronology. Calcutta, 1947.
Sigerist, H . E. History o f medicine. V ol. II, Early Greek, Hindu and Persian
medicine. Oxford, 1962.
Winter, H . J. J. Eastern science (Wisdom o f the E ast series). London, 1952.
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
Classical Literature
Asvagho?a. Buddhacarita, translated b y E. H. Johnston, Panjab University,
Calcutta, 1936, and Acta Orientalia, 1937; first part reprinted M otilal
Banarsidass, Delhi, 1973.
Bdna. Harfacarita, translated by Cow ell and Thom as, R oyal A siatic Society,
London, 1897.
B âça. Kâdambarï, translated by C . M . Ridding, R oyal Asiatic Society,
London, 1896.
Bhâsa. Translated by W oolner and Sarup as Thirteen Trivandrum Plays
attributed to Bhâsa, Panjab University Oriental Publications, Oxford
University Press, London, 1930-1.
Bhavabhüti. Mâlatimâdhava, translated (French) by G . Strehlÿ, Leroux,
Paris, 1885.
Bhavabhüti. Uttararâmacarita, translated (French) by N . Stchoupak, Institut
de Civilisation Indienne, Collection Émile Senart, Paris, 1935.
Gunâdhya. Bfhatkathà; the Slokasatpgraha by Budhasvâmin has been trans
lated into French by Lacôte, Leroux, Paris, 1908-29.
Har$a. Naifadhacarita, translated by K . K . Handiqui, Deccan College M ono
graph Series, Poona, 1956.
Kàlidâsa. Abhijnânasàkuntala and ‘Süd raka’ : Mpcchakajika, translated by
M onier W illiam s and Ryder in The Genius o f the Oriental Theater,
M entor Books, N ew Y o rk , 1966.
Krìshnamachariar, M . History o f Classical Sanskrit Literature, Oriental B ook
Agency, Poona, 1937, reprinted M otilal Banarsidass, D elhi, 1970.
Sâtavàhana or ‘ H à la ’ . Gâhâsattasaï (Saptasati), translated (Germ an) by
W eber in Abhandlungen fu r die Ktmde des Morgenlandes, Leipzig, 1870
and 1881, reprinted K raus, Liechtenstein, 1966.
Vidyâkara. Subhâfitaratnakofa, translated by D . H . H . Ingalls, Harvard
Oriental Series, Cam bridge, M ass., 1965, is an excellent anthology o f
Sanskrit lyrics from about 250 classical poets, readably translated with
good introductions.
VHàkhadattai Mudrârâkfasa, translated by K . H. Dhruva, Oriental B ook
Agency, Poona, 3rd ed. 1930. .
Viçnuiarman. Pancatantra, reconstructed and translated by F . Edgerton,
Am erican Oriental Series, N ew Haven, C onn., 1924.
W arder, A . K . Indian Kâvya Literature, M otilal Banarsidass, Delhi, V ol. I,
1972, V ol. H, 1973, Vol. I ll, in press.
Books fo r Further Reading
CHAPTER xv
Early Ari and Architecture
Auboyer, J. in Eliky Zinrtif, Khajurâho. ’s-Gravcnhage, i960.
Auboyer, J. \n The.Oriental IVorld. London, etc.,' 1967.
Barrett, and Gray, B. The Fainting o f India. Cleveland, 1963.
Brown, P. Indian Architecture Buddhist and Hindu. 3rd ed. Bombay, 1956.
Coom araswam y, A . K . History o f Indian and Indonesian Art. London, 1927.
Frederic, L. Indian Temples and Sculpture. London, 1959.
G oetz, H. India: Five Thousand Years o f Indian Art. London, 1959.
Piggott, S. Prehistoric India. Harmondsworth, 1950.
Rawson, P. S. Indian Fainting. London etc., 1961.
Rowland, B. The Art and Architecture o f India. Revised edition. London, 1967.
Singh, M. The Cave Paintings o f Ajanta. London, 1965.
Wheeler, M . Early India and Pakistan. London, 1959.
Zimmer, H . The Art o f Indian Asia. N ew Y o rk , 1955.
Zimmer, H, M yths and Symbols in Indian Art and Civilization. N ew Y ork,
1946.
CHAPTER XVI
Music
Bake, A . A . ‘ The music o f ln d ia ’, in The new Oxford history o f music, Vol. I.
London, 1957.
Bhatkhande, V . N . A short historical survey o f the music o f Upper India.
Bom bay, 1934.
Bhatta'charya, S. Ethnomusicology and India. Calcutta, 1968.
D eva, B. C . Psychoacoustics o f rnusjc and speech, Madras, 1967.
Fox Strangways, A . H . The music o f Hindostan. Oxford, 1914.
G angoly, O. C. Rdgas and Rdginis. Bom bay, 1958.
Grosset, J. ‘ Inde: histoire de la rousique. in A . Lavignac, Encyclopédie de
la musique, V ol. I. Paris, 1921.
Jairazbhoy, N . A . The Rags o f North Indian music. London, 1971.
Joshi, B. and L obo, A . Introducing Indian music. Bom bay, n.d. (A series of
four records, with spoken text, musical examples and booklet.)
K aufm ann, W, The rdgas o f North Ipdia. Bloom ington, 1968.
Popley, H, A . The-music o f India. C alcu tta, 1950.
Powers, H. S. ‘ A n historical and comparative approach to the classification of
ragas (with an appendix on ancient Indian tunings)’ , in Selected reports.
Los Angeles, 1970.
Prajnananda, Swami. A history o f Indian music, V ol. I. Calcutta, J963.
Sam bam oorthy, P. South Indimi music. 6 vols., M adras, 1958-69.
Shankar, R . M y music, my life. N ew Y o rk , 1968.
Staal, J. F. Nambudiri Veda recitation. The Hague, 1961.
Books fo r Further Reading 509
C H A P T E R XVII
The Muslim Ruling Dynasties
Ashraf, K . M . Life and conditions o f the people o f Hindustan (under the Sultans
before Akbar). 2nd cd., Delhi; 1959.
Athar A li, M . The Mughal nobility under Aurangzeb. Aligarh, 1966.
Ahm ad Aziz. Studies in Islamic culture in the Indian environment, Reprint,
Oxford, 1966. '
Bosworth, C . E. The Ghaznavids. Edinburgh, 1963.
Frykenberg, R . E. (ed.). Land control and social structure in Indian history.
Wisconsin, 1969.
.H abib, I. The agrarian system o f Mughal India. London, 1963.
Habib, M. and Nizâm ï, K . A comprehensive history o f India. V ol. V , Bom bay,
1970. ' ■
Hardy, P. Historians o f Medieval India. London, i960.
Hasan, I. The central structure o f the Afughal Empire. Reprint, K arachi, 1967.
Ikram, S. M . Muslim civilization, edited by T . Embreç Ainslie. N ew Y o rk ,
London, 1969.
Irvine, W. The army o f the Indian Moghuls. 2nd ed., New.Delhi., 1962.
M oreland, W . H . The agrarian system o f Moslem India. Cambridge, 1929.
Moreland, W . H . India at the death o f Akbar. London, 1920.
M oreland, W . H . From Akbar to Aurangzeb. London, 1923.
N igam , S. B. P. Nobility under the Sultans o f Delhi. Delhi,, i960, ..... .
Qureshi, I. H. The Muslim community o f the Indo-Pakistan subcontinent ( 610
1947). The Hague, 1962. ' ‘ " "
Rizvi, S.-A . A . Religious and, intellectual history o f Akbqr’s reign. Delhi, in
press. . " ’ . '
Saran, P. Provincial government of'the Mughals. AJlahàbdd,1Ì9 4 i. v
Tripathi, R. P. Some aspects o f Muslim administration. 2nd rey. ed.", Ailaha?
■ bad, 1959. ;!,^ C v ’".'
;; Tripathi, R. P. Rise atte!fa ll 1963)
, C H A P T E R XVIII
CHAPTER x i x
Islam in Medieval India
Arnold, T . W . The preaching o f Islam. Reprint, Lahore, 1961.
Carpenter, J. E. Theism in medieval India. London, 1926.
de Bary, W . T. Sources o f Indian tradition. N ew Y o rk , 1958.
Hasrat, B. J. Dârâ Shikûh. Visvabharti, 1953.
' Hollister,,J. N . The ShVa oflndia. London, 1936.
Ja'far Sharif. Islam in India (Qânün-i IsIàm), trans, by G . A . Herldots.
Oxford, 1921.
N izâm l, K . A . Some aspects o f religion andpolitics in India during the thirteenth
century, Aligarh, 1961,
Qanungo, K . R. Dârâ Shukôh. Lucknow, 1953.
Rizvi, S. A . A . Muslim revivalist movements in northern India in the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries, Agra, 1965.
Sharma, S. R . The religious.policy o f the Mughal emperors. 2nd ed., London,
1962. __
Tara Chand. Influence o f Islam on Indian culture. 2nd ed., Allahabad, 1963.
Y u s u f H oszia.M edieval Indian culture. Bom bay, 1959.
Zaehner, R . C. Hindu and Muslim mysticism. London, i960.
CHAPT 8 R XX
Sikhism
Banerjee, Indubhusan. Evolution o f the Kitalsa. 2 vols., Calcutta, 1936.
Ganda Singh (ed.). Sources on the life and teachings o f Guru Nanak. Patiala,
1969.
Grewal, J. S. Guru Nanak in history. Chandigarh, 1969.
G upta, H ari Ram . A history o f the Sikhs. 3 vols., V ol. I, Simla, 1952, Vol. II,
Lahore, 1944.
Harbans Singh. The heritage o f the Sikhs. Bom bay, 1964.
K apur Singh. Parasharprasna or the Baisakhi o f Guru Gobind Singh. Jullundur,
1959.
Books fo r Further Beading 511
C H A P T E R XXI
C H A P T E R XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
C H A P T E R XXIV
The Portuguese
Boxer, C . R . Portuguese society in the tropics. Madison, W is., 1965.
Boxer, C . R. Race relations in the Portuguese colonial empire, 1415-1825.
O xford, 1963.
Boxer, C . R. The Portuguese sea-borne empire. London, 1969.
Potter, G . R. et al. (eds.). The new Cambridge modern history. Vols. II, III, IV
and V , Cam bridge, 1958-1970.
Cam pos, J. J. A . History o f the Portuguese in Bengal. Calcutta, 1919.
Chatterji, S. K . and Sen, P. M anoel da Assumpçam's Bengali grammar.
Calcutta, 1931.
Correia-Afonso, J. Jesuit letters and Indian history. Bom bay, 1955.
Books fo r Further Reading 513
Lach, D onald F. India in the eyes o f Europe: the sixteenth century. Chicago,
1968.
Livermore, H. V . Portugal and Brazil. Oxford, 1953.
Maclagan, Sir E. D . The Jesuits and the Great Mogul. London, 1932.
Priolkar, A . K . The printing press in India. Bom bay, 1951.
C H A P T E R XX V
CH APTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXYJI
Islamic Reform Movements
Ahm ad, Aziz. Islamic modernism in India and Pakistan. London, 1967.
Ahm ad, A z iz and yon Grunebaum , G . E. Muslim self-statement in India and
Pakistan. Wiesbaden, 1970.
Ahm ad, Qeyamuddin. The Wahabi Movement in India. Patna, 1966.
A ziz, K . K . (ed.). Ameer A li: his life and work. Lahore, 1968.
Baljon, J. M . S. The reforms and religious ideas o f Sir Sayyid Ahmad Khan.
Leiden, 1949.
Ikram, S. M . Modern Muslim India and the birth o f Pakistan. Lahore 1965.
Jalbani, G . N . Teachings o f Shah Waliyullah. Lahore, 1967.
K han, M . A . History o f the Fara'ldi Movement in Bengal. Karachi, 1965.
M alik, Hafeez. Moslem nationalism in India and Pakistan. Washington, 1963.
Philips, C . H. (ed.). The evolution o f India and Pakistan, 1858-1947. London,
1962.
Qureshi, I. H. The struggle fo r Pakistan. K arachi, 1965.
Rizvi, S. A . A . Muslim revivalist movements in Northern India in the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries. Agra, 1965.
CHAPTER XXVIU
The Nationalist Movement
Bondurant, Joan. Conquest o f violence: the Gandhian philosophy o f conflict.
Princeton, 1958.
Bose, Nirm al K . Studies in Gandhism. Calcutta, 1962.
Books fo r Further Reading 515
CH AP TER XXIX
Modern Literature
See bibliography to Chapter X X I,
CHAPTER XXX
Early Contacts between India and Europe
(compiled by D r. F. Wilhelm)
Basham, A . L . (ed.). Papers on the date o f Kanifka. Leiden, 1968.
Cary, M . and Warmington, E. H . The Ancient explorers. Hannondsworth,
1963-
Derrett, J. D . M . ‘ Greece and India: the Milindapanha, the Alexander-
romance and the Gospels ’, Zeitschriftfiir Religions- undGeistesgeschichte,
Vol. X IX , pp. 33 ff. Cologne, 1967.
Gary, G . The medieval Alexander. Cam bridge, 1956.
Majumdar, R . C . Classical accounts o f India (compiles the translations o f
J. W . M cCrindle). Calcutta, i960.
Narain, A . K . The Indo-Greeks. O xford, 1957.
Rawlinson, H . G . Intercourse between India and the Western World. C am
bridge, 1916 and later editions.
Warmington, E. H. Commerce between the Roman Empire and India. C am
bridge, 1928.
Wheeler, Sir Mortimer. Rome beyond the Imperial frontiers. London, N ew
Y o rk , 1955.
INDEX
Abbreviations
ajch.— archaeological M .P .— M a d h y a P ra d e sh
c.-— city n.— p ro p e r n am e
dyn.— dynasty pl.— p la c e nam e
k.— king reg.— regio n
le g .— le g e n d a ry U .P .— U tta r P ra d e sh
Mà'mün, ‘Abbâsid caliph, 283 Marâthâs, 53, 264, 265, 339, 353, 383;
Man people, 453 territory of, 165;
inaila, function o f the mind, 115 expansion of, 262;
manana, logical reflection, second stage in state, 263-4, 270, 27*i
Hindu religious quest, 66 in Bijâpur, 324;
Manasâ, goddess, 306 foreign relations of, 338
Mânasavcga, n., 176, 185 and Tipü Sultan, 384;
manastambha, Jain pillars, 102 confederacy, 393
Manavcda, k., 195 Marâthi Iang., 37, 166, 342, 406, 407,470;
Manchu dyn., China, 4 J 7 literature in, 58, 196, 268, 306, 308, 412,
mandata, 4(8
doctrine o f circle of rulers, 133; March on Washington Movement, 404
circular magical diagram, 441, 484 Marco Polo, 451
mandapam, temple halls, 314 Mardhekâr, writer, 418
Mandelslo, German traveller, 344 mârga, 'the path’, traditional music, 220
mandioca plant, 341 Margâo, Portuguese settlement, 345
mando, Portuguese Indian music, 344 Maria Stuart by Schiller, 474
Mandu, capital o f Mâlwâ, 319, 326, 327 Mârkaodeya, author, 19s
Manek Bandyopâdhyây, writer, 417, 4(8 Mark Antony, 434
mangata, narrative poetry, 306 marriage, 127;
Mangalor, Mysore, 337, 342 child, 59, 367, 373;
mango, 194 ideal Hindu, 75;
mangostcen, 341 and caste, 129, 130, 379;
MaijicüiJa, Bodhisattva, 180 customs, 267;
Manikkavnsagar, poet, 37 re-m., 384;
Manimegatai, Tamil epic, 37, 304 io India today, 489
Mani-praunla, style in Malayâlam, 168 Marriage Act, 369
Manipur, Assam, 234 Marshall, Sir John, 61, 478
Manipuri iang., 406, 407, 411 Marshman, J.C., 342
Mailjula', astronomer, 154 Màrtând, temple at, 313
Manjuéri, Bodhisattva of Wisdom, 94 M ânvâr, see Jodhpur;
Martkha, writer, 192 school o f painting of, 331, 332
Mann, Thomas, 480 Mârwâri caste, 402
Manohar, paioter, 330 Marx, K arl, 415, 419, 483-4
Manomohan Basu, see under Basu Marxism, 416-17, 418
Manomohan Ghosh, see tinder Ghosh Mary Magdalene, 417
Manovali, novel, i8r Masada, siege of, 129
mansab, rank, 260, 261 Masâlik ai-Absdr f i Mainalik at Amsâr, 464
mansabdâr, official in Mughal military or MashSriqu't Anwâr by Sâghâni, 466
civil service hierarchy, graded in Masih (Messiah), 387
accordance with a decimal ranking masnawis, long poems, 469
system, 261 masses, the, and nationalism and reform,
mansabdârt, system for public services un 377» 378, 380, 384
der Mughals, 263, 264, 351; ‘ Master- Mistress ’ (Bhagavadajjuklya),
and British, 355-6 comedy, 179
Mansukhani, Gobind Singh, 294 n. Master Zinda Kaul, Kashmiri writer, 413,
al-Mansür, Caliph, 439, 440 415
Mansur, Ustâd, painter, 159, 330 Masti, writer in Kannada, 419, 420
mantras, verses or phrases believed to have Mas'Od of Ghazni, 246
magical or religious efficacy, 96 Mas'Qdi, Arab writer, 439
inantrt-parishad, council of ministers, 133 Matanga, writer, 2t8, 219, 220
Manu, leg. first king, 125,130 ,13 1, 135 matchlockmen, 339
lawbook of, 261, 429, 473 mathematics, 3, 48, 102, 142, 143-4, 146-7,
manufacture, 262 154- 7, 159- 6o, 289, 458, 467;
manuscripts, 160; Chinese, 156
illustrated, 326-30 M athura, c., 44, 158, 165,198, 267, 277,308,
Maoism, 417 495 ;
M ao Tze-tung, 460 sculpture of, 199, 201-2, 432 n.;
M 5 ra <V*a 'R iiH H tiicf Ç a f a n MmnW of ■ »*•>A
Index 557
m atra, measurement of time in music, 226 , Meghnâdbadh, epic, 410
227, 232 Mehrauli, Iron Pillar of, 48
Màtrarâja, dramatist, 186, 188 Meilink-Roelofsz, M .A.P., 339
Màtrceta, poet, 178 Mekong Delta, 445
Mâtrgupta, k. of KaJmira, 181 mela, musical scale, 222, 225;
Matrimandir (Temple of Truth), Aurovillc, -karta system, 223
484 melisma in songs, 485
Matsya, kingdom of, 171 melody, 212
matsya-nyaya, ‘ the maxim, o f the fish’, membranophones, 234
anarchy, 140 ' ‘ Menaka and Nahusa’, play, 184
MattavUdsa, comedy, 184 Menam basin, 450, 453
al-Màturîdi, Abu Mansur, Menander, Tndo-Baclrian ruler, 431
Mâturidi School of kalâm of, 283 mendicants, religious, 236, 237
Maudgalyayana, Arhant, discipie o f Bud menhirs, 448, 451 •
dha, 99 Menon, Cliandu, writer in Malayâlam, 413
Maukhari dyn., 51 Mcnon, C.P.S., 143
Maurya, dyn. and period, 1, 2, 29, 38-43, Mentila (Padmagupta), poet, iS r, 182, 188
45 , 46. 51. 56, 198, 3491 Menuhin, Yehudi, 485
art of, 199, 201 mercenaries, Roman, 434
mawâi, remote.areas, 260 Merchant o f Penice, 440
Max Müller, Friedrich, 436, 437, 477, 478 merchants, 136, 445;
Màyâ, Queen, 436 n. Indus, 142;
maya, illusion, 119, 296-7, 428, 480 Mauryan, 41 ;
Mayer, Albert, 484 as patrons, 45, 47;
MayQra, writer, 184 and Jainism, 102;
Mayûraâarman, founder o f Kadamba dyn., and Buddhism, 197, 201, 435;
57 Afghan, 258;
Mazhabi Sikhs, 301 Muslim, 248-9, 464-5;
Mazzini, Giuseppe, 361 and Süfism, 466;
Mean, the Buddhist, 86, 94 Hindu, and medieval trade, 465; in
meat-eating, 17, 75, 79, IQ9 . 368, 427, 436 Baghdad, 437;
Mecca, 281, 292, 312, 349, 466, 467, 468; British, 356, 470, 471 ;
Shccif of, 462, 463; Indian, in South-East- Asia, 445-6, 451
Indian Sufis in, 467 mercury, 158
medicine, 48, 145, 438, 465; merit (j>unya) in Buddhism, 93
traditional Hindu (ayurvedic), 147-50, merry-go-round, 146
157-8, 493- 4 ; Merli, Mount (Mahâ), 143, 144, 204
training o f practitioners in, 147, 493; Messiaen, Oliver, 485
schools of, 202; Messiah, 387
Western, 362, 493 Mesopotamia, i t , 61, 143, 250;
Medina, Arabia, 282, 462, 463, 466 and India, 18, 197, 425
meditation, 94; metal, metallurgy, 48, 142, 158, 208;
in Buddhism (samadhi), 86, 95, 96 in South-East Asia, 452
in Jainism, 108; in Yoga, 116 metaphysics, 112-23;
Mediterranean, Hindu, 63, 67-70, 73-4;
human type, 17; Buddhist, 85-7, 93-4, 96;
civilization of, l ; Dravidian link with, Jain, 103-106;
3 2 -3 ; Greek, 427
trade with, 45, 47, 201, 425, 426, 445 Metcalfe, Sir Charles, 357
Meerut, U .P., 167, 249, 255 metempsychosis, see transmigration
megalithic culture, metrology, 141-2
South India, 32, 33, 44; Mewâr (Udaipur), 253, 256, 259, 261;
graves, 20j ; Rànâ of, 264;
in South-East Asia, 448, 449, 453 school o f painting of, 331, 332
megaliths, 32, 33 .. Meyerbeer (Jacob Liebman Beer), 475
Megasthenes, ambassador, 6, 40, 430 Michael Madhusüdan Dutt, poet, 410, 411,
Meghadüta ( MeghasandeSa), ‘ The Cloud 413,42,0
Messenger (Message)’, by- Kalidasa, middle classes, 354, 388
558 Index
tvlidnaporc disi., Bengal, 402 Indian, in South-East Asia, 452;
migration, Brâhmo, 368, 371;
Aryan, 26, 27; Ahmadi, 388
as political safety valve, 140; Mitanni, Hurrian state of, 23
into South-Bast Asia, 444, 452 Mithilâ, c., 194
Mihira Bhoja, k., 53 Mitra (Mithra), god; 21, 23, 24
Mihirakuia, Hüna k ., 50 Mitra, Dinabandhu, dramatist, 411
mihrâb, niche in mosque indicating direc Mitra, Peary Chand, Bengali novelist, 410-
tion o f Mecca, 312, 316 Miyan Mir, Qâdiri saint, 289, 291
Mihtar M ahal mosque, Bïjâpur, 324 mieccha, designation for non-Indian, bar
mines, 40 barian, 20, 127, 183, 434 '
Milarnspa, mysticism, 484 Mloda Polska (Young Poland Party), 479
Milinda-panha ( Questions o f Milinda), 431, mode, in music, 212,216,485 ; see also jâti
435 modernization, 365 '
military rule in Pakistan, 438 Modherâ, temple at, 206
military service, 356 ‘ M ogul, the G reat', 471, 472
Milton, John, 471-2 moha, ‘ delusion’, in Buddhism, 96
Mîmàmsâ, school o f philosophy, u i , 114, Mohanty brothers, the, 419
Il8 ; PQrva, 63 Mohenjo-dâro, 11-19 passim, 31, 33, 61,
M.-sûtras, III 141, 142, 147, 312 ;
mimbar, pulpit, 312 floods at, 25 n,
minor, detached tower or minaret, 316, moksha (mukti), liberation or salvation, 74,
317 76-7, 120, (22, 138, 139, 296, 394, 428,
minaret (nta'dlwna), 312, 316, 317, 324 498- 9 ;_
mind, the, in Sânkhya and Yoga, 116 in Buddhism, 93;
Ming dyn., China, 457 in Jainism, 103; in Sikhism, 297
Minhâj Sirâj, author, 250 monasteries, monasticism, 283, 313, 437;
miniatures, see painting Buddhist, 47-8,49, 8 7 ,9 0 ,9 3 ,9 7, 99, lo i,
ministers, state, position of, 131, 133, 134, 198, 200, 201, 202, 313, 435, 455; in
136 China, 456; modern, 495;
Minto, Lord, Viceroy 1905-10, 389 Hindu, 279
Mira Bài (Mtrâbàî), Râjput princess and money-lenders, Hindu, 465
bhakti poetess, 237, 277, 306, 308 Mongolia, 7, 197
Mirâbâi k l Malhâr râga, North Indian râga, Mongols, 258, 289, 317, 349 ;
237 in India, 55, 250, 251, 252-3, 255, 461 ;
mirabilis jalopa (Marvel o f Peru), 341 destroy Baghdad, 437;
miracles, in Buddhism and Christianity, 436 (Yiian) in Burma, 450
Mir'âtu l-Makhûqât, by Chishti, 291 Mongoloid, human type, 17
Mir Jumla, general, 262, 263 Monier-Williams, Sir M ., 478
M îr Nithâr *Ali, see Titü Mir monism, 268, 271, 275; ‘ Qualified’, 120;
Mir R afl'ù ’d-DIn Safavi, Ishrâqi philo see also Advaita
sopher, 290 monkeys, 179;
Mir Saiyyid.‘Ali, painter, 328 army, of, 176, 182
Mir Saiyid ‘Ali Hamadâni; Sufi scholar, M onkey Island, 179
288, 466 monks,
Mirzâ Ghulâm Ahmad p f Qâdiyàn, 387 Buddhist, 83, 87, 171,199-200, 2 U , 455-
Mirza Hakim, ruler o f Kâbul, 462 ó\ Tibetan, 99, and Nestorian, 437;
Mirra Kalich Beg, 413 in China, 457;
M ir a R àja Jai Singh, Râjput generai, 263 Jain, 87, 101, 102, 105-9 passim;
mìsìs, Sikh guerilla bands, 300 Hindu, 267; o f Râmakrishna Mission,
missionaries, 375; o f Aurobindo, 378;
Buddhist, I , 45, 99, 43 1, 455, 456; Ajivika, 313
Theravâda, in India today, 495; monogamy, 490
Christian, 37, 343, 344, 367, 376, 379, monopolies, royal, 136
381, *387, 388, 392, 413, 478, 495 ! monotheism, 48, 278, 282, 372
Portuguese, 340, 342,--34$.; Jesuit, 409; monsoons, 4;
British, 365; as interpreters o f India, m. winds, 434, 444
*'T47 Î as educators, 362; influence of, Mons, people, 450;
Index 559
Montagu-Chelmsford reforms, 361, 396, traditions of, 466
398 Muhammad, Prince, son o f Balban, 251
Montgomery, U .S., bus boycott in, 404 Muhammad, ruler of Bïjâpur, 324
Moodbidri, Java, 102 Muhammad o f Ghür, see M ii’izzu’d-DIn
Mookerjee, Sir Asutosh, 160 Muhammad ‘Ali, 390
Mookeijee, R .K , 490 Muhammad Bakhtiyâr, 311
moon, 143, 148 Muhammad bin Qâsim, general, 245, 246
Moravia, Alberto, 482 Muhammad bin Sâm, see M u'izzu’d-Din
More, Thomas, 125, 441 Muhammad o f G hür
Morley-Minto reforms, 361 Muhammad bin Tughluq (Ulugh Jauna
morsing, percussion instrument, 231 Khân), Delhi sultan, 254,255,285, 286,
Moses, 64 287, 288, 353. 465;
mosques, 281, 3 11-12 , 315-24 possimi atrocities of, 289;
teaching in, 384; seeks legitimization, 461
Ahmadi, 388; Muhammad Ghaus, tomb of, 321
in South-East Asia, 451 Muhammad ibn ‘A bd al-Wahhâb, 383
Mother Goddess, 2, 3, 58, 61, 271, 373, 392, Muhammad Ma'süm, Khwâja, son o f
425i Sarhindi, 292, 467
in Indus Valley civ., 18; Muhammad Qâsim Nanotawi, 388 .
Sakti as, 72; Muhammad Sa‘id, Khwâja, son o f Sarhindi,
in art, 203 292,467
Mother India, 361; (Sakti), 378; (Bharat Muhammad Shâh, Khvarizm Sbâhl ruler,
Mâtâ), 494 250
Mother-worship, 369 Muhammad Shah, Bahmani sultan, 257
Moti-ki-Masjid mosque, D elhi, 319 Muhammad Shâh Rangila, Delhi emperor,
Moti. Masjid (Pearl Mosque), 33° . 354
Lânore, 322; Muhamma<j Shâh Sayyid, tomb of, 319
A g ri, 323, 353; Muhammedan Anglo-Oriental College,
Delhi, 324 Aligarh, 386
Mountbatten, Lord, Viceroy 1947, 390 Muhammedan Anglo-Oriental Educational
Mricchakatika, sçe Little d a y Cart Conference, .386
mridangam, musical instrument, 230, 231, Muhibbu’llàh o f Allahâbâd,. Shaikh, 291
234 _ Mubsin aJ-Mulk, Muslim reformer, 387,389
nui'adhdhln, seë muezzin M u ‘inu’d-Dïn, Khwâja, founder o f Chishti
Mubàrak K hâp, K halji sultan, 253 order in India, 285.
Mubârak Shâh Sayyid, tomb of, 319 M u‘Î2zu’d-Din (Shihabu’d-Din) Muham
Muddiman Committee, 398 mad (bin Sâm) o f Ghür, 54, 55,56,247,
MudrSrSkjasa, play, 183 248, 249, 2 5 0 ,3 11,3 15
muezzin, 312, 316, 324 Mujaddid, see Ahmad Sarhindi
Mughal, dyn. and empire, 1, 4, 56, 195, 258, Mujaddidis, followers o f Sarhindi, 292, 293
260, 261, 259-65, 290, 307, 328, 329, Mujahidin, holy warriors,.383, 384
339, 348. 349, 353- 4 . 383,4<>5 . 471.472. Mujassima Sufi order, 468
49 i ; Mukherji, Bhûdev/410
Court of, 102, 343; Jesuits at, 344; M ukhopâdhyây, Subhâs, 418
bureaucracy of, 261, 351, 352, 354; Muktedvara shrine, Bhubaneswar, 207
succession, 350; mukli, see mùksfta
and Sikhs, 298, 299; MOladeva, c l , 180, 192
and Deccan, 462; M ülaka, pl., 28
foreign relations of, 337, 338; M ulk R â j Ànand, author, 420
and music, 221 ; Mullâ D âüd, author, 287, 328
and painting, 326-333 passim, 344, 345; M ullâ Shâh, music and poet, 289, 291
architecture of, and West, 484; see also Müller, M ax, see M ax M üller
architecture; Multân, Pakistan, 245, 246, 256, 282, 284,
legacy to British of, 349-J2, 354-7, 358 290,464
Muhaddis, see 'A bdu'l H aq Muhaddis Miimtâz-i-Mahal, queen, 322
Muhâfiz Khân, mosque of, 320 M undâ (or Kolarian) languages, 167
Muhammad (the Prophet), 237, 245, 281, Mundaka Vpanishad, 73, 112
287. 780. : M n n R r Tn rfc* in ia c*
5<>o Index
muqâla'â, Irani lax, 248 Muziris, see Cranganore,
muquddam, village leader, 252 Mysore, architecture of, 205, 209, 315;
Muràd, son of Shâh Jahân, 262 see also Karnataka
Murâd IV o f Turkey, 463 mysticism,
Muràri, dramatist, 188, 189, 193 Hindu and Muslim, 291 ;
mûrchhanâ, modal sequences in music, 218 Indian and Christian, 483;
niurids, disciples, 350 see also religions, philosophy
Musa al-Kazim, as one o f Muhammad’s myths, mythology, 80, 484;
successors, 282 and music, 221, 236
Mtlfakavainsa, history, 191
rnusho'aro, poetry meetings, 238 Nabobs, 356, 473!
music, 210; see also tiawab
ancient, 214, 216-21; Nachiketas, n., 78, 113
classical, 212-34, 237. 3°6; in South Nadia, Bengal, 249
India, 222, 230-31, 236; in modern Nadir Shâh, Persian ruler, 264
limes, 239, 491 ; and West, 485-6 Nadwat al-’uiamâ’ (organization to bring
tribal, 234-5; old and new Islamic learning together),
folk, 235-6; Lucknow school of, 388
devotional 236-8; Nâga, serpent spirit, or tribe, 446
Portuguese, 343-4; Nâgabhata II, Gurjara-Pratihâra k., 53
modem, 220, 239-40; NâgaktnnBracarila, verse novel, 191
popular, 492; Nôgânanda, play, 184
Indian, in China, 458; Nagar (Lakhanor), Bïrbhüm dist., 249
Indian and Western, 239, 496 nagârâ, kettle-drums, 235
musical instruments, 221, 231-2; tribal, 234 nâgarakas, dilettantes, 177
musician, rôle of, 222, 230 Nâgâijuqa, Buddhist philosopher, 68, 92,
Musici, port, 434 94, 178, 187, t92
Muslim League, 396, 400, 4qt, 403; Nàgârjuna, alchemist, 158
founding of, 389; Nâgârjunakonda, stüpa at, 199
and Congress, 390 Nàgasena, Buddhist teacher, 431
Muslims, 7, 164, 193. * 07. 275. 3° 7> 372; nâgasvaram, musical instrument, 231, 232,
as soldiers, 55; ' 235
invasion o f India, 164, 247, 303, 307, 310, Nâgaur, Râjasthân, 285
315» 32«; Nâgina Masjid mosque, Champanîr, 320
effect on Buddhism of, 99, 203; N âgi Somâ, leg. princess, 446
and Hinduism, 62, 206; Nàgpur, 99, 346
and Sikhism, 300; Naidü, R . Venkata Ratnam, reformer, 375
provincial dynasties, 249, 255, 256, 264; Naidû, Sarojini, writer, 420
in South India^ 304; Naifadhacarila, epic, 192
decline in power of, 383; NaifadhBnand, drama, 190
rural, 293; Najâlu'r Jfashld, by B adâ’üni, 290
reform movements of, 386; Najib al-Dawla o f Rohilkhand, 383
separatist movement of, 387, 389, 390; nakshatras, lunar mansions, 143, 161
and nationalism in Bengal, 393; Naia, leg. k., 184, 189, 190, 192, 194;
demand for safeguards for, 399; and Damayanti, story of, 482
political activity of, 400, 401, 402; Nâlandâ, 449;
and Congress, 403 ; Buddhist university at, 202;
position of, in India today, 399; destruction of, 92, 99
and music, 220-22 Nalaoijaya, play, 184
literary contribution of, 309; Namakkal, goddess, 159
influence on painting of, 326; NambQdiri brahmans, 214,-215
architecture of, 310, 312-22 Nâmdev, hymnodist-saint, 268, 308
Musfansir B ’illâh, Caliph, 461 n~m japan, nòni simaran, Sikh meditation,
MQtabas, tribe, 27 297
Mu'tazilite school o f philosophy, 282-3 Nânak, Guru, 287, 294, 295, 300, 301, 308;
mutiny, mutinies, 397; and Kabir, 275, 295-6;
Sepoy, 350, 354, 362, 383, 386, 491 life of, 297-8;
Muttaqi, Shaikh ‘A bdu’l Wahhâb, 466 philosophy of, 296
Index 561
Nanda, brother o f Buddha, 211 extremists of the, 376-7, 378-9, 391, 392,
Nanda dyn., 38; 393. 401, 403;
last ruler of, 183 and Muslims, 388, 389;
‘ Nanda, the Handsome’ {Soimdaranauda), Gândhian agitation of, 402, 403;
epic, 177 influence of West on, 391, 393, 400;
Nandi, Siva's bull, 81 as inspiration abroad, 403-5
NaDnaya, Telugu poet, 168, 280, 304 National Museum of India, 326
Napoleonic Wars, 474 National Social Conference, 374, 376, 392
Naqshband, Khwàja Bahà’u'd-Din M u naturalism, 271
hammad, 289 NSfyasSstra {Treatise on Drama), 170, 172,
Naqshbandi order o f Süfis, 288-9, 4^71 173» 175. 196, 216, 218
split in, 292; Naura, pl., 30
literature of, 291 naurûz, Iranian spring ceremony, 350
Nâradisikshâ, Vedic text, 214 Navagrahacarita, play, 196
Narai, k. of Siam, 446 Navanagar, Bombay, 263
Narasi Mehta, Gujarati poet, 30S NavasBhasBnkacarita, epic, 191
Narasimha, playwright, 193 navel, in medicine, 148
Naravâhanadatta, n., 178, 179, 183, 185 navy, Portuguese, 339
Nàrâyan, R .K ., 420 nawâb, Mughahtitle, 352, 356, 491
Nârâyana, mathematician, 157 Nawwâb Siddiq Hasan Khân, ahl-i hadiih
Nârâyana, writer on literature, 174 leader, 389
Nârâyana, dramatist, 184 Nàya (Jnâta) clan, tot
Nârâyana, poet, author o f NBrByaniya, Nayacandra, writer, 194
195 Nâyaka, writer, 174
Nârâyana Swâmi, reformer, 366 Nâyanârs, devotees of Siva, 58, 267, 278,
Narmad, poet, 412 304
Narmada, R., 6, 11, 433 nayas, ‘ points o f view’, Jain doctrine of,
Narmadasundart, dharma novel, 193 104-5
NarmamSIB, satirical novel, 192 Nazis, 421
Nâsatya, Vedic deity, 23 Near East, 432;
Nash, John, 484 Aryans, in, 23, 24-, 26-7;
Nâsir Shah lÒialji, 326 see also Middle East, West Asia
Nâsiru’d-Din Mahmüd, Prince, son o f Needham, Joseph, 141, 157
Iltutmish, 250, 251 Negapatam, Portuguese settlement, 337, 342
Nâsiru’d-Din Mahmüd, Delhi sultan, 251 Negri Sembilan, Malaya, 451
Nâsïru'd-Din Muhammad Chiràgh (-i- Negritos, racial type, Malay Peninsula, 443
Dihli), Süfi Shaikh, 252, 285, 286, 287 Nehru, family, 307
Nüsiru’d-Din Muhammad Shâh, founder of Nehru, Jawaharlal, 289, 360j 361, 382, 390,
sultanate o f Gujarât, 256 394. 396. 399. 400, 403. 404, 40,5. 4*9
Nâsiru’d-Din Qabâcha, see Qabâcha Nehru, Motilal, 395
Nasiru’d-Din Tüsi, see Tüsî Nehrü Report, on future constitution for
nâstika, non-believer, 66, r20 India, 398
imfaka, drama, 178, 179, 182 Nejd, Arabia, 383
Nâtakattamil, ’ Dram a T am il’, 35 Nemi(nâtha), Jain Tirthankara, too
NatBnkuia, critical work 175 Neo-Confucianism, 457
Nâtaputta, see Mahâvira Neolithic, in South-East Asia, reappraisal
Nâth(a) Y ogi (or Pâothi) sect, 267, 268, 287, of, 452 . 453
292, 305 Neoplatonism, 435, 438, 476-7;
nâtikâ, type of play, 178 and Süflsm, 283;
National Academy o f Letters, 406 and Indian religion, 436
National Congress, see Indian National neo-Romanticism, 479
Congress Nepal, 51, 153, 158, 193, 203, 306, 346
nationalism, 99, 361, 393 Nepal Darbar Library, 305
nationalist associations, 401 Nepàli Iang., 166
nationalist movement, 360, 366, 367, 368, Nero, Roman emperor, 434.
373. 378, 381. 391- 405 ; Nestorianism, 437
and reform, 271, 274, 380; Nettl(e), Bruno, 235-6
moderates in, 376-7, 391, 393, 399, 396, Neugebauer, O,, 14!, 152
108. uoo: Newbcry, John, 471
562 Index
New Delhi, 317, 459; Nobili, Father Robert de, Jesuit missionary,
architecture of, 325, 357 346
New Y ork, 483 nobles, 287;
New York Daily Tribune, 484 under Delhi Sultanate, 250, 252, 255,25S ;
NibbStta, see Nirvana Mughal, 289, 351- 2. 354
nidftnas, twelve links, Buddhist theory of, nom tom, section of musical movement, 229,
85-6- 232
nidarsanakatha, .‘ illustrating novel’ , 180 Non-Co-operation movement, 39°. 393.
nididhyôsnna, ethical discipline, third stage 394. 395, 398. 403
in Hindu religious quest, 66-7 Non-Returners, in Buddhism, 87
nigoda, ‘ host-soul’ , Jain concept of, 103 non-violence, 416, 422, 480, 481 ;
nihilism, 86 see also ahimsB
Niknyas, see Âgamas Norm , Buddhist, see Ditarm
Nikitin, Afanasiy, 470 North, Sir Thomas, 439 .
Nilakaijtha, writer, 189, 195; north-west frontier, 259,.263, 384, 386
Nilakaiilhauijnya by, 195 North-Western Province, 376
Nil Darpan, Bengali play, 4 11 Norwich Cathedral, 3*3
Nilgiri Hills, 234 notation, musical, 217-18, 220, 223, 239
Nilmani Phookan, writer, 416 N .S. de Penha da Franca, church of, 345
Ni'mat Nama, M S. of, 326 numerology, 146, 157, 467
Nimbiirka, Vaishnavite theologian, 123,267 nuns, Buddhist, 83, 87, 456:
Niralâ, Hindi poet, 415 Jain, 101
1tiraval, song text, 231 N ür Jahân, wife of Jahangir; 261
Nirgrantha, title 'of Mahavlra and Jain Nür Qutb-i-’Âlam, Chishti Sufi, 2S6
ascetics, tot N D rTurk, IsmS’ili leader, 282
Nirguna, ‘ qualityiess’, the ultimate im NOru’d-Din a! RSniri, Sufi, 467
personal God, 274 NOru’d-Din Mubarak Ghaznawi, member
Nirguna Sampradâya, Sant devotional of 'ulama', 287
school, 295-6 NOru’ l Haq, Shaikh, son o f ‘ Abdu’l Vlaq,
Nirmânakâya, Created Body (of Buddha), 291
. 94 . 95 Nürul Hasan, 260
Nirvana (Nibbana), the state of final bliss, Nüru’llâh Shustari, Qazi, Shi’I, 290-91
in Buddhism, 91, 94, 97, 201, 437, 456, Nyàya school of philosophy; i l l , 114, 1 17
480, 498 ; 18, 122;
Chinese approach to, 459 N.-sûtras, t i l
Nifâda, forest tribes, 27; Nyingmopa Tantras, Buddhist texts, 92
as designation for non-Àryan tribes, 20 nymphs, 183, 184,204
NishSda (Austrie) languages, 303
niti, polity, i8t> ' oboe, 234
Nitivarman, poet, 189 observatories, 1585458
niyainas, see yantas Ocean,
Nizàm a)-Mulk o f Hyderabad, see Nizâm- God o f the, 182;
u’l M ulk À saf Jâh ‘ churning of the, 195
Nizami, poet; 329 Oc-Eo, South Vietnam, finds from, 453,445
Nizami, K .A ., Muslim scholar, 247 octaves, in Indian music, 214, 216, 217, 223
Nizâmiyya academy, Baghdad, 284 Odantapuri, Buddhist centre, 99
‘ N izâm iyya’, Muslim educational syllabus, Old Soldier's Dialogue of do Couto, 340
388 Omar Khayyam, 496
Nizâm Shâhi dynasty of Ahmadnagar, 257 ‘ om rah’, Mughal official, 351, 352, 356
Nizamuddin, D r., 160 Orice-Returners, in Buddhism, 87
Nizâmu’d-Dîn A uliyâ’, Shaikh, Chishti Onor, Portuguese settlement, 337
Sufi, 253-4, 285, 469 On the Language and IVisdom o f the Indians,
Nizâmu’d-Din Fârüqi Thâneswarî, Chishti by F. von Schlegel, 474
saint, 290 Ophir, port of, 425, 438
Nizâmu’l M ulk À saf Jâh of Hyderabad, 264, oral tradition in Indian literature, 172, 309;
383 - ' ' Vedic, 213 ’■
Nizâmu’l M ulk TOsi, Saljuqid vizier, 283, oranges, 341
287 orchards, 255
P/-Î7** -lie /«An n r r h i* < t r f l 7-ao
Index 563
Orientalists, 97, 99, 357 law in, 359
‘ Origin o f K um âra’, epic, 1S2 Muslims and, 399;
‘ Origin o f Pradyumna1, epic, 196 and nationalists, 400;.
Origin o f Species, 478 government of, 405, 488;
Orissa (Ralinga), 28, 43. 51, 193. 195. 207, .East, yiii, 167;
253. 256. 257. 308, 355. 413 ; languages of, 167, 407
literature in, 194, 196, 280; ’ Pakistan Resolution 390
architecture of, 202, 206, 3Ì3, 315; Pài, B.C., 378
Oriyâ language, 166, 406, 407, 413; Pâla dyn., 53, 54, 188, 271;
literature in, 308, 41s, 419 and Buddhism, 202, 203;
Ormuz, pi. 470, 471 and art, 203;
orphans, orphanages, 346, 375, 379 influence in South-East Asia of, 449, 450
Orphism, 427, 428 ‘ palaces o f the gods’, 200
OsiS, Rajasthan, 205 Pnlaeo-Mediterranefin peoples, 6, 7 ; see
Osiris, 427 also Dravidians
Os Cusiadas o f Camoëns, 470 Palamau, Râjâ of, 262
Osmania Bureau, Hyderabad, 160 annexation of, 263
Ottoman Caliphate, 339, 389, 390, 463 Pafampet temple, 209.
òtta, musical instrument, 232 Pâli, language, 89, 165, 176, 303, 478
Oupnekhat, see Upanishads, 474 'Pâli Canon, Buddhist scriptures, 89. 90,
outcasles, 417; to t, 163, 175, t76
see also classes Palibothri, inhabitants of Pâtalipütra, 440
Ovinglon, John, 471 Palitànâ (Pàlithànâ), Gujarât, t02, 315
Oversoul, Emerson’s concept or, 477 Pattava dyn., 50, 51, 57, 168, 446;
Oxus R., 21, 246, 431 sculpture of, 207-8
pallaui, form of South Indian music, 227,
Pacific, (he, 452, 453 230, 231, 232
pacifism, Christian, 480 palm-leaf manuscripts, 203, 207
pnda, song, 231 Palmyra, Syria, 433
Pâdalipta, author, 177, 178 Pamir, Central Asian plateau, 201
Padirrtippatttt, Tamil poems, 34, 36 Pampa, Kannada poet, 304
Padmacarita, epic, 179, 188 Paflcâla (Panchâla) tribe, 27, 78
Padmagupta, poet, see Metj(ha Paiicliama-granta-iiiga, musical form, 219
Padmagupta, epic writer, 191 Paàchasiddhântikâ by Varâhamihîra, 15t.
Padmarâju, writer in Telugu, 419 152
Padmasambhava (PadmSkara), Buddhist PanchaSikha, philosopher, 121
siddha, 95 Pancltataatra (Pancatantra), collection of
Padmàval, n., 309 fables, 15, 180, 43?, 439, 44°
PadmSvatlparinaya (‘ Padmàvati's Mar panchâyat, village council, 5, 361, 491
riage’), play, 180 Pàndavas, leg. princes,. 170-71, 176, 183
Padmini, queen o f Chitor, 309 Pandharpur, mahârâshtra, 268, 269,'271,
pâdshâh (bâdshôh), titles used for Mughal 279
rulers, 354, 491 Pandion, k „ 433
PadyacndBmavi, epic, 188 Pândiyar, Tamil dyn., 35
Pagan, Burma, 203, 449, 450 Pându, leg. k., 170-71
Pahâri, style o f painting, 332, 333, 391 Pânduâ, Bengal, .284, 286, 318
Pahàrpur/ree Somapura Pandukàbhaya, k., 145
painting, 3, 197, 206, 207, 20S, 209, 2(0; Panduwasa, k., 14s
miniature, 4, 159, 235, 277, 326-33. 353! Pândya dyn., 44, 58, 253, 433
riiga-mâlâ, 221 ; Panikkar,'Sarda r, 349
and British, 357; Panfili, grammarian, 160, 162, 163, 176. 185
Chinese, 459; Pânipat, Panjâb, 286, 320;
modern, 492; see also Ajantâ battles of, 258, 259, 265
Parsaci language, 89, 163, 176, 181 Pan-lslamism, 462
Paitâmaha Siddhânta, astronomical treatise. Panjâb, 7, 19. 26, 40, 43 , 14t. 25°. 260, 262,
15t 285, 32t. 378, 386, 393. 401, 402, 463.
Pajjüsana, Jain festival, 102 ■484;
pakhovaj, drum, 234 climate of, 426;
Pakistan, 7,2 4 7 , 388, 390, 40J.421 -2; Aryans in, 20, 21, 27;
5&4 Index
prisoners o f war, 259 72, 124, 148, 185, 187, 192, 204, 216,
Prithviràja Chàhamàna, k., 54, 56, 247, 258, 275. 43 «, 470
305, 315 purâna, ‘ ancient’, as class o f religious and
Prithviràja Râsau, epic, 306 historical literature, 170;
Prithu, k., 137 heroes of, 195;
Priyadariikâ, play, 184 and Krishna myth, 266;
Prodigal Son, parable of, 436 in Telugu, 280;
‘ Progressive’ writers, 417 dramatized, 305;'
pronunciation, o f Indian languages, xi-xiii as literary inspiration, 195, 411, 492
Prophets, the, 290, 46S Purandaradàsa, singcr-saint, 236, 305
prose literature, 176, 177-8, 180-81, 184-8 Purandhar, treaty of, 263
passim, 190, 191-2, 193, 308-9, 410 Pure Land sects, 459,.46o t
prostitution, 133, 211; Puri, Orissa, 206-7 «
religious, 59, 81; see also decadasi; Puritanism,
in literature, 1S8 o f Aurangzeb, 263;
Proto-Aryans, 24 Western, 210, 417
Proto-Australoid, human type, 6, 7, 17, PQrnasaraswati, playwright, 193
234 Purohit Swâmi, Sri, 482
Prolo-Dravidian language, 30 purohita, chief priest, 133
Provinces o f the North and South, Portu PurOravas, n., 170, 182
guese, 338, 342, 346 PurufaparlkfS, npvel, 195
Provincial Councils, Portuguese, 342 purusha,
provincial dynasties, consciousness, in Sânkhya philosophy,
Hindu, 249; i i j ; in Yoga, 116, 117;
Muslim, 237, 461 ; P., the Primeval Man, 429
see also under names of individual dynas purttshSrlhas, three aims in Jainism, 126
ties Purushottama (The Supreme Person), see
Pfthvlrûjavljaya, epic, 192 Vishnu
Przerwa-Tctmajer, K ., 479 Pürvabhârata campii o f Mânaveda, 195; of
Pseudo-Callisthenes, 430 Ananta, 195
‘ psychedelic generation’, 486 Pürva Mimâmsâ, philosophical system, 63
psychoanalysis, 417 Pushyabhuti, dyn., 51, 52
psychology, 484 Pu;padanta, poet, 191, 195
Ptolemy, 34, 152, 154, 445; Pufpadiifitaka, ptay, 180
cosmology of, 797-80 putra, musical classification, 221
Ptolemy Philadelphus o f Egypt, 431 Puttanna, writer, 413
puberty rites, 385 Puttappâ, poet in Kannada, 416
pudgala, matter, in Jainism, 103 Pulnt Nocher Itikathâ; novel, 417
Pudgalavâdin, Buddhist sect, 88, 89 pyjamas, 357 '
piiga tribunals, 132 Pythagoras, 427-8;
PugalOr, inscriptions, 34 theorem of, 157;
Pugàr, c., 36, 434 musical system of, 213, 216
Pukkasa, forest tribe, 27
Pulinda, non-Aryan tribe, 27
Pu|umSyi II Vâsiç(hiputra, Sâtavâhana em Qabâcha, Nàsiru’d-Din, 250, 284
peror, 177 al-Qàdir, ‘Abbâsid Caliph, 246
l’ unira, reg. and tribe, 27, 28 Qâdiri Süfi order, 289, 291, 293
Punnü, n., 309 Qndiyàn, pl., 387, 388 _
pnnya bhiimi, holy land of India envisaged Qandahàr, Afghanistan, 239, 261, 262, 462,'
by Hindu reformers, 378 463
puppets, shadow, 442 qaivwâls, singers, 237-8
Puram, heroic genre o f Tamil poetry, 35, 36 Qayrawân mosque, 312
puramdara, 25; see Indra qâzl, judge administering Islamic law, 288
purâna, ’ ancient', type o f religious and his Qtpchâq tribe, 250
torical literature, 170 qiyâs, analogical deduction, in Sunni law
Purâna, Christian, 343, 409 282
PQrana Kassapa, iraniana teacher, 100 ‘ Qualified M onism1 ( Visishtadvnita), 120
Purâna Qilâ, sixth city o f Delhi, 320, 352 quasi-feudalism, see feudalism
Purânas, sacred texts o f Hinduism, 3-, 28,48, Questions o f Milinda, see Miliitda-panha
568 Index
Quilon, Portuguese post, 337 Raja-Birbal, house of, 322
'Q u it India’ movement, 397 Râjâ Dàhir of Sind, 245
Qur'àn (Koran), 245, 253, 275, 281, 282, Râjagopâlâchâri, C „ 390
283, 383, 384, 387 Râjahaipsa, n., 183
al-Qushairi, Abu’l Qasun, 283, 286 Râjâ Karan Vâghel o f Gujarât, 252, 253
Qushashi (Safi-u’d-Din Ahmad), 466 Râjarâja 1, Chola k., 57, 450
Qutaiba bin Muslim, general, 243, 246 Râjarâni temple, Bhubaneswar, 207
Qutb Minar, 316, 317 Râja Râo, author, 420
Qutb Shàhi dyn., of Golconda, 257, 263,462 ràja-sâsana, royal decree, 133, 134, 135
Qutbu’d-Din Aibak, 249-30, 311, 315, 316, Râjasekhara, dramatist, 170, 173, 175, 181,
317 189-90, 196
Qutbu'd-Din Bakhtyâr Kâkï, Khwâja, 285 Râjasthàn, 33, 34, 102, 206, 209, 277;
Qutbu’d-Din Mubarak Shâh, 461 literature in, 193, 194, 196;
Quwwat-ul-IsISm mosque, Delhi, 316, 317 painting of, 327, 331-2, 333;
râjâs of, 349
Rabwah, West Pakistan, 388 Rajasthani language, 166, 195, 306;
Rachot, Salsctte, Jesuit College, 343 literature in, 308, 406, 407
racial discrimination, 346, 352, 363 RSjalaraiigiiji, history of Kashmir, 192
Racine, Jean, 430 Râgavâhana, n., 183
Râdhâ, n „ 193, 236, 267, 272, 273 Râjcndra I, Chola k., 57, 450
Râdhâkânta Deb, 368 Ràjgir, fortifications at, 198
Radhakrishnan, Sarvepalli, 60, 81, 82, Rajmohan's Wife, 420
294m, 419, 420, 496 Ràjput clans, Ràjputâna, 53, 54, 247, 249,
Râdhânâth Rày, writer, 413 251,426, 492;
radicals, radicalism, 368, 417 feudal organization of, 351 ; .
radio, and Delhi sultans, 249, 251, 253, 258;
drama, 421 ; and Mughals, 252, 259, 262;
influence on music of, 238, 239, 240 Marâthâs and, 264;
Radio Ceylon, 239 Vaishnavism in, 267;
râga (rag), a series of notes on which a royal courts, 353
melody is based, 213, 218, 219, 220, Râju Qattâl, Sûfi evangelist, 284
229, 230, 231, 233, 236, 237, 242; Rakjasa, minister of Nanda, 183
classification of, 220-26 passim; râkfasas, demons, 176
and raginis, personification of, 221 Râm, God, 238, 274, 277
and orchestral music, 240 Râma, hero, incarnation of Vishnu, 80, 81,
râgakSuya, musical drama, 175, 193, 195 176, 178, 179, t8 t, 182, 183, 184, 185,
râgamâtâ, musical form, 233 186, t8S, 191, 192, 196, 269, 271, 276,
painting associated with, 221 307;
râgam-tânam-pallavi, form of vocal music, birth of, 236;
230 as god, 37, 266;
Râgatarangini, treatise, 225 cult of, t, 274-6;
RSghavabhyndaya, play, 184 temple to, 270;
RSghavânanda, play, 183 in literature, 188, 193, 195, 394; see also
Raghuvai/iia, epic, 182 Râmâyana ;
Rahim , Muslim name for God, 238 in South-East Asia, 442
Râhuia Sankrityayana, writer, 419 Ramâbâi, Panditâ, 374
râi, tributory Hindu chief, 252 Râtnabhadra, writer, 192
Rai-i-RSyân, see Râmachandrà Râtmbhyudaya, play, 186; epic, 194
railings, carved, 198, 199 . 'Rârnacarlla of Abhinanda, 188
railways, raihvay-stations, 324, 360, 362 Ramac(h)andra, dramatist, 175, 192
The Rains Came, novel, 481 Ramachandra (Râi-i-RSySn), le. of Deva-
Ràj, Hans, Hindu reformer, 378 giri, 252, 253
râjâ, 132, 139; 'R âm a Deceived’ (Chalilarâma), 181—2
position of, 125; Râmakrishna Mission, 375, 378, 381, 392,
duty to, 127; 483, 494
and dharma, 130; Râmakrishna Paramahnmsa, 369, 375, 377,
and local councils, 134; 412, 481, 483
restraints on, 136; Râm al ingam, Mahatma, 366
m a sites* H i > n U n o c K tn Rnman Sir C. V i<o
Index 569
Râmànanda, religious reformer, 274, 275, rasas,
276, 308 six essences, Hindu theory or, 148-9;
Raman Effect, the, 159 emotions, in poetics, 172, 173, 174, 175,
Râmânuja, philosopher and theologian, 3, 181, J82, 183, 185, 190, 192;
58, 62, 65, 66, 120, 123, 267, 274, 276, in Râmâyana, 176;
308 o f Nâgânamia, 184 ;
Ramanujan, Srinivasa, mathematician, 151), and music, 221
159 rasâyana, elixir o f lire, 150, 158
Râmapâpivâda, writer, 196 Rashahât ‘Ain ul-Hayâi, Naqshbandî work,
Râmavarman, k., 194 467
Râmâyana, epic, 3, 48, 72, 146, 175-6, 181, Rashidu’d-Din, Mongol envoy, 461
182, 184, 186, 189, 216, 274, 307, Râshtraküta, dyn. and kingdom, 50, 53, 57,
410; 102
origin of, 29; Rashtriya, Swayamscvak Sangh, Hindu
rcinterpretation of, 179; communal movement, 399
Eknâth’s commentary on, 269; râsi, mathematical concept, 146
campii version of, 191; Rask, R .K ., 32
in vernacular, 275; Râs-lilâ. folk drama, 411
Tàmil version of, 37, 278; Râf/rapâla, drama, 199
in Oriya, 195; Ratan al-Hindi (Babà Ratan), 466
of Tulsidas, 276, 306; ratha, war-chariot, 142
id Kannada, 179; rationalism, 366, 368
in Telugu, 280; Ratnâkara, writer, 188
o f Kamban, 304, 308; Ratnakûta sütras, 91
Persian adaptations of, 329; Ratnaprabhâ, novel, 181
in South-East Asia, 80, 444, 451 Ratnâvali,
Ramazan (Ramadan), month of, 281 ofN âgârjuna, 178;
‘ Rambhâ and Nalakübara’ , play, 184 o fH a rja , 184;
Râm-charit-mânas (Lake o f the Story o f o f Rümnàrâyan, 411
Râma) o f Tulsidas, 275, 308 ratnins, court dignitaries, 137
Râmdàs, hymnodist, 270-71 Raulu Chatim, goldsmith, 345
Râm Dâs, Guru, 298, 300 Râvatja', demon, 176, 178, 179, 183, 184,
Râmdàsiâ Sikhs, 301 186, 188, 1S9, 191, 276;
Ramesses II, 2 defeat of, 185
Ràmcsvaram, Tamilnàdu, 253 Râvanârjnniya, ‘ grammatical’ poem, 185
Râmgarhiâ Sikhs, artisan castes, 301 Rauanavodha, ‘ grammatical’ poem, 184-5
Râmi, n., 271-2 Ravi R ., 13, 17, 298
Ramila, dramatist, tSo, 181 Ravi Shankar, Pandit, 485
Râm Mohan R oy, 303,361, 363,365,367-8, Ravivarman, writer, 193
382, 392, 407-8, 410, 412 râwats, 252
Ràmnàràyan, Pandit, playwright, 411 Rây, Râdhânâth, writer, 413
Ràmpur, Rezâ Library at, 329 ta'y, private judgement, in Sunni law, 282
rana, Hindu title for chief, 252 Rayy, Persia, 316
Rânade, M .G ., 370, 374, 380, 392, 420 Raziya, daughter of Iltutmish, 251, 282
Rânà Kumbha o f Mewâr, 256 Reading, Lord, Viceroy 1921-6, 396
Rànâ Sânga o f Mewâr, 256, 258 rebellion, 128, 138
Randcr, Gujarât, 467 recitation, Vedic, 214
Rangpur, arch, site, 19 Records o f Western Countries, 52
Rani Sipàri, mosque of, 320' Red Sea, 257,425,426, 433, 434, 445, 464
Ranjhâ, n., 309 reform, 140, 376;
Ranjit Singh, Sikh leader, 300 religious, in Hinduism, 71, 270-71, 377,
Ranna, Kannada poet, 304 392; Muslim, 383, 386—7;
Ranthambhor, Rajasthan, 249, 252, 258 social and religious, 365-6, 381, 393;
Rào, Guruzâda Appa, 413 social, 274, 369, 373, 377, 400
Rao, Venkoba, 33 Reform Associations, 374
Ras-al-Qala, Persian Gulf, 18 Reformation, the, 266
Rasaratnâkara, treatise, 158 Refuges, see Jewels, Three
Rasaratnasamucchaya, treatise, 158 regionalism, 50, 403;
r* — fi . - -ft _r ______ n
570 Index
Refila o f lbn Battüta, 464 Rogets-Ramanujan identities, 159--.
relativism, in Jainism, 105 RohilkHand,' U.P., 383 «•,.
reliefs, 198-5, 200, 204, 205, 206; Rolland, Romain, 481
Chinese, 458 ' Roniaka 'Siddhànta;,Ueatise,, 151,438-
relics, reliquaries, 437; romanticism, Tamii, 267; '
Buddhist, 87; 93, 198, 199, 203; casket or in Hindù poetry, 414;
time o f Kanishka, 432; European,-393/474, 476;. ;
o f Süfîs, 284 Rome, Romans, 21,129 , 152, 313, 438;
religion,-1, 63-4, 78,.l39r4q, 187, 210;. relations between,India and, 45, 146,151,
and drama, 175; 434. 444. 4941 Embassies to, 433-4 1
and literature, l89,;309; emperors,òf,;447;.; :
Indus Valley/,14,: 17-18; ,> . - fall of, 470 : :$■t ,, . .f
Vedic, 31, 61, too, 111—12, 162,; 372; Romesh Chunder Dutt, see D u tt.R om esh
•. Hinduization of, 29;- Chandra
under M ongols,,289; Ropar, Indus Valley, 11, 17
Mughals and;>349;.357; A kbar's attitude rosary, 439
to, 290, 3jo ; ' Rosen, Friedrich August, 477
and nationalism, 361,.378; Roth, Rudolf, 478
popular cults, 363; ,. Round Table Conferences, 390, 397, 398
Indianj'in South-East Asia, 446,449,450- Rowlatt bills, opposition to, 395
4Jl ; Comparative, 478; Roy, Dvijendratâl, playwright, 4 [ r—12
Indian, and Europeans, 482-3, 496-7; Royal Society, the, 159
continued vitality of, 494—5 ; Rpufljaya, k. o f Magadha, 185..
see also individual religions Rückert, Friedrich; 482,1.
Rembrandt, 343. Rudaulï, U.P.; 286
renaissance, Rudra, g'od, 61, 7 2 "
Hindu, in South India,.279; Rudratà,-writer, 173
in Bengal, 410; 411; '< rudra, sinâ;:musical instrument; 235
European, 474 t . .. ..> ■Rukminl; queén of.Krishna, :i8o •
Republic, o f Pla.to,.428, 429 Ri/kmltfkôlyBQa,~tpic,:i 94,i vv '>
republics, 38,..49q:; ':- ■ ■V "Ruknu’d-Din A bü’i'Fàth; Shaikh, 284
restoration, politiça.1,.334: jU lk n u ’d-Din Ibrahim çKhâlki, Delhi sul
1Review o f théSèasbns !,:poent ; 180' ; /'>■ ■ ’ 'tàn,-'46r'" . ‘‘.t ;-;.
revenue,-132, 140; -jj':.-. Rumi/ Maùlânâ Jalâlii’d-Din, pq-et, 288,468
land,.38^9,47,''252-, 234; 259,w f c . p - ''R û p â,.writer,■-•r74^i;.l9Sr;.i;'! /Je
•^grants; of; 252/255 ; fc1 < Rustara I^^;::Mugh'al:0fBciiij' 347 . .
'systems, 257; 259,,262,350-51, 355
Revolution,- French, 1. 354, 1.4I4::.'sei? ; also Sabad (labda, ’ word I): in,Sikhism,-297-.
mutinies-' - •,'ï-rb .itt'nftoriv»*1 Sabari.tnbe/zy,;.- nulM -''-
Reiâ-Library, Râmpur, 329 w: Sabda, ‘ sound V;asname for,G od, 274
Rgveda',,see RigjVeda, rohAa,'iqcal;4«eiitb ly,.l 36;.376; 40l.i,r.-<r
Rhys.Dàvidsi:T.W ./478 -v>q ... sabhasad, judicial assessor,,i34..K
rhythin; iri:'niusi.c,-2t2 ' ' ... mz' j ï , .S ib iity y ^ C IiiA ti^ ,:Sfif!sr486ii/m f i ,
RibeirS/î).iôgÔj4343'J.li jn . t riaftììt • SabjiH-àiiìdi, póeticijstyle; s -à-.,,
Rig Veda;-ii-ityrir;-.26;.;27, ,61;.62, 69,-72, Sabuktigìn/«è Sub.üktigin •
' 112 ,14 2 ,1 6 2 ,2 13 ; ! Sacred Booki.of^thë .East/478 j;. :
culture of, 24 ; Sacrèd Law, seéDharnia . j,.
daté üf,ii.43 f 4j?:..,V ’ •• \:.sw sàcnficés;T 4 ,’ '4 8 ; 61/215,-372/436; .1!:
■ tchinting o.f; 214/215J' >•.. - n .s v * u :.‘.5 animai; '59,, 79,' ;i 69 ; vi-i u,
"in West,- 478 v v *" j• Ÿ : >>1 see also abiamedha
Risd!a (Epistie),\$ûri:pta.tise by al-Qushairi, Saddharmdpunddr!kàA;^Sàddhqrma'(\Punda~
183/ 4: jtttih-'.'7-» i>-i
Rìshàbtìa/Jain;:TÌrthankara,;ì l oo ijï t î t ... r /jBudtìinst sùtra/ 5 ^
rishis, leg: sagés;'64,2l3 S tófitói^,''w ritér?Jìi 3 ^;'/V-s»iiihri.!<5'
rita, thé order ofnatuxe, 142 Sâdbâfan Brâhmo Samâj, .369,-1375; 381
roads, 40, 259, 360, 435 - • sâdhâfanigiti, musical classification,,219,220
Rodin, A uguste,-2to;'496.,- .-.o-.. sâdhus, rejigioui mendicants,.274,. 275..
Roe, Sir Thomas, 352,.471 .2. Sa'di,' pcs&i- 47Ì
R oter. Abraham. à 72 ''.?-tr- Safari, see M irR afïthM . i .....
Index 571
Wahhabi, movement for Muslim religious reaction to Indian culture of, 197,209-10,
reform, 383, 385, 389 474- 7 . 496 ;
Wajihu’d-Din Gujarati, Shaikh, 466 and Indian religion, 388, 478, 496
Waley, Arthur, 496 West Africa, 340
Wali-Allâh, see Shâh Wali Allah West Asia, 33;
Walid f, caliph, 245 Mauryan links with, 40-41 ;
waits, governors, 250 and megalithic South India, 44;
Walters Art Gallery, Baltimore, 329 and Buddhism, 45
Wang C h ’ung, philosopher, 455 Westernization, self-, 446
Wang Yang-ming, Neo-Confucianist, 457 Wheeler, Sir Mortimer, 33, 478
War, Wheel o f Life, Buddhist, 85, 456
First World, 381, 397, 401; Whigs, 363
Second World, 395, 397, 42r, 496 White, Robin, 481
War ami Peace, 422 Whitehead, A .N ., 105
Wârangal (Sultanpür), capital of Telingâna, White Horse Monastery, Loyang, 455
253 , 254, 255. 297 Whiteway, R.S., historian; 346
warfare, 25, 51-2, 54, 55-6, 145, 247 Whitman, Walt, 479
Wâris Shâh, poet, 309 widows, 363, 370, 374-51
Warren, Lt. Col. John, 152 burning of, see salt;
wutan jagir, revenue rights to hereditary remarriage movement, 369, 374-5
dominions of Rajput chieftain, 260 Wierix, John, 345
Wat Chet Y o t, Chiengmai, Thailand, 450 Wilkins, Charles, 409, 473, 477, 496
water-spray, 146 Willow Leaf, leg. queen o f Funan, 446
‘ W ay o f D evotion’, see bkakli-mârga Wilson, Horace Hayman, 475, 478
'W ay o f Knowledge’ , see jnâna-mârga Wind God, 176
wàsìr, Mughal official in charge o f revenue winds,
and finance, 351 theory of, 148;
Wazir Khan, mosque of, 323 and planets, 153
weapons, 4, 55-6, 145; windows, 312, 323, 324, 346
bronze, 17; Wint, Guy, 363
makers of, 98 Wirtschaftsethik der Weltreligion, Die (‘The
Weber, M ax, 483 Economic Ethic o f the World Re
weddings, 384; ligions’) by Weber, 483
songs at, 234, 235, 236 women, 274;
weighing ceremony, Mughal, 350 position of, 127, 367, 368, 370, 372, 3B2,
weights and measures, 16-17, I4 C 142 395; in Vedic times, 136-7;
welfare, public, 360, 382 rights of, 363, 402, 490;
wells, 380 education of, 368, 369, 370, 380
Weltanschauung dec iitdisclten Denker, Die, wool, 45
by Albert Schweitzer, 483 Wordsworth, William, 476, 47.7
Wesley, John, 64 workers,
West, the, 361, 421; quarters of, Harappà, 13;
concept of Asia of, 1 ; wages of, 395
contact with India of, World Soul, see Bralunan
with South, 146; through trade, 445 worship, congregational, 37°, 372
{see also trade); in Middle Ages, 470; Wright, Arthur F ., 456, 457
and Indian Muslims, 386; writers, 376
ideas of, writing, 2 ;
purveyed by Arabs, 438; by British, m atcrialsfor, 3-4;
358, 362; introduction of, 163;
rejection of, 373, 377, 378; see also scripts
influence of, 392, 397, 414; W u, Chinese empress, 457
nature of, 363—4 ;
cultural, 62, 348; on music, 239, 344;
Xavier, St. Francis, 62, 343, 345
in Bengal, 367, 375, 381;
Xenophanes, philosopher, 427, 429
on reform, 392; political, 391,393, 394,
397, 398 , 400 ;
on literature, 4.10,41 r, 417-18,422,492 ; Yâdava, tribe, 100
science of, 387; medical, 493; Yâdavas, Marathâ dyn. o f Devagiri.-252
Index 585
Yâduvamsis, Rajput dyn., 251 Yogeivara, writer, 188
Yâjnavalkya, sage, 78, 130 Yogi and the Commissar, The, 482
Yajur Veda, 213-14, 215 Y o gi (Jogi) practitioner o f yoga, 254, 287
yaksha, class o f demigod, 198 Yoita, Greeks, 426
yakslii, female yakslta, 198 yotii, female symbol, 18
yakfagana (yakshagnna), type o f popular ‘ Young Bengal’ movement, 368
theatrical entertainment, 175, 305, 411 Yudhijthira, leg. hero, 171, 184, 185, 189
Yalduz, see Taju'd-D in Yiian dyn., see Mongols
Yam a, god, 21, 113, 132, 428 Yüeh-chih, see Kushanas
yama, ytinâni, Pcrso-Islamic medicine, 493
notes, in music, 2(4; Yun Kang, China, 459
moral and religious restraints, 116 Yunnan Province, China, 448, 450, 453
Yamin-ud-Daula, see Mahmud Yusuf, Shaikh, Süft, 467
Yamunâ (Jamunâ) R ., 26, 51, 250, 255, 317 Yüsufzais, Pathân tribe, 263
yânas, fifty-two, in Buddhism, 95
Yang Kuang, Sui emperor o f China, 457 Zainu’l ‘Abidin, sultan of Kashmir, 256
yantras, mechanical devices, 145-6, 151 Zainu’ l AkhbSr by Gardezi, 467
Yasas, writer, 177 Zakariyya, see under Baha’u’d-Din
Yasastilaka, campii, 190 Zako, Anton, 482
Yashpàl, Hindi writer, 419 Zambia, 404
Ya^odhara, k., 190 zamindSrs, holders o f proprietary land
Y.carita, story of, 191 rights, 260-61, 355, 463;
YaSovarman, emperor, 186, 187 z. rajas, 260 ;
Yiilra, folk drama, 411 insubordinate (zanilndürân-i-zor-talab),
‘ Yaughandharâyana’s V ow s’, type of play, 265
178-9 Zarathustra, see Zoroaster
Yavana, a westerner, particularly a Greek, Zarmanochegas (Sramanàchârya), monk,
44 , 146. 151, 416,434 433
Yayàti, n., 184, 193 Zen, see C h ’an Buddhism
Yeats, William Butler, 482—3 zenanas, 357
Yemen, 463 Zeno, philosopher, 427
Yerrapragada, Telugu writer, 280 zero, 157,458
Yim a, n., 21 Zeus, 429, 477
Yoga, 1 16, 148; Zicgenbalg, B., German missionary, 409,
school o f philosophy, 114, 115—17, 122, 472
i î 3 , *95 , 436, 480, 484, 497; ziggurat, 314
hatha-yoga, mystical training, I, 3, 73-4, Zimmer, Heinrich, R., 149, 480, 484
92 , 94. 95 , 117, 179, 202, 274, 371, 378, Z in d i Kaul, Master, writer, 413
497 ; zither, 235
Koestler on, 482; zodiac, 143, 438
and psychology, 484 Zoffany, John, 358
Yogâcâra (Vijnânavâda), school o f Mahâ zoology, 159
yâna Buddhism, 94, 96 Zoroaster (Zarathustra), 21, 64, 427, 483;
Yoga-sûtras, 1 1 1 Zoroastrianism, 62, 290, 437
Yoga mid die Westen, 484 Zweig, Stefan, 480, 481
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