Dharwad: Former Vice-Chancellor of Hampi University M M Kalburgi, the well-known scholar and epigraphist who courted controversy for his forthright views on religious, social and other issues, was shot dead at his Kalyanagar residence here this morning by unidentified gunmen. He was 77 years old.
“Dr Kalburgi was shot dead at his Kalyangar residence in Dharwad around 8.40 AM,” Dharwad Police Commissioner Ravindra Prasad told PTI.
He is the third scholar-rationalist to be assassinated in India in as many years. Earlier, in 2015, Govind Pansare, a writer and communist in Maharashtra was shot dead by unknown assailants. In 2013, Narendra Dabholkar, the well-known rationalist was killed.
Kalburgi was shot in his head after he opened the door of his house in the morning, Prasad said.
Asked how many bullets he sustained and who was behind in the attack, Prasad said police are awaiting details.
Kalburgi was rushed to a hospital where he was declared dead, he said.
He was a scholar of Vachana literature and was a recipient of Central and state Sahitya Academy awards.
Last year, he became the target of a campaign by the Vishwa Hindu Parishad and other right-wing forces, which burnt his effigy and demanded his arrest for remarks he made against idol worship.
The VHP and others were objecting to remarks Kalburgi made at the time while taking part in a debate over the Karnataka government’s anti-superstition bill. Kalburgi cited U.R. Ananthamurthy’s Bethale Puje Yake Kudadu, in which the Jnanpith award winner narrated his childhood experience of urinating on a stone idol as an experiment to see whether there would be divine retribution of some kind.
The Hindutva organisations accused both Ananthamurthy and Kalburgi of insulting the religious sentiments of the Hindus.
Excerpts from an interview with former secretary of the Planning Commission N.C. Saxena on what we ought to really take away from the recently released religion data from the 2011 Census.
Sometimes, the more newspapers write on a subject, the more obscure it becomes, especially if it comes dressed in apocalyptic fervour. On August 26, most media reports on the just released Census 2011 data on ‘population by religious community’ could easily have been mistaken for a present-day stock market update: Hindus slide from 80.5 % to 79.8 %; Muslims climb from 13.4 % to 14.2 %, showing the highest surge in the rate of growth at 24.6 % as against Hindus at 16.8 %.
In this din, there were a few isolated examples, such as The Hindu, which provided a vital context for these figures by explaining that the rate of population growth among Muslims is slowing more sharply—from 29.5 % in 1991-2001 to 24.6 % in 2001-2011—as compared with Hindus for the same period (19.9 %to 16.8 %); and while the Muslim population is still growing at a faster rate, the gap between the two growth rates is decreasing. The two rates are beginning to converge over time.
So the question is this: should the Census data on religious communities be understood only in terms of religion? Does the data actually hold up to the kind of polarised scenario that newspapers have depicted, or is there a more comprehensive and nuanced way of looking at these facts to get a sense of the shifts underway in society?
In an interview to The Wire, ex-bureaucrat, former secretary of the Planning Commission and currently Supreme Court Commissioner for Food Security N.C. Saxena tells Chitra Padmanabhan that there are many more factors affecting the population growth rate than just the natural ones. Chief among these factors are regional patterns of population growth in India, the urban-rural dimension, and migration. Excerpts from the interview:
N.C. Saxena. Credit: Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration
Q: How should one read the 2001-2011 data on population by religious communities released by the Census of India?
A: The share of Muslims has increased in the overall population; the Muslim rate of growth is higher than that of the other groups but the rate of increase is slowing. More importantly, the gap between the growth rates of Hindus and Muslims is narrowing.
Let me give an analogy. When the government says that inflation is coming down people turn around and say, but the prices are not coming down. Yes, the prices are still increasing but the rate of increase is declining. Similarly, the population of Muslims is certainly increasing at a faster rate than that of the Hindus or Christians but its rate of growth is coming down and it is said that by about 2050 it will stabilise at around 17 % to 18 %.
But it is important to understand the overall picture and the interplay of many more factors at work.
Q: What is the overall picture? How should we be looking at these facts? A: Most people give a religious colour to this data. But look closer and you will see a definite regional pattern at work. For instance, almost 60 % to 65 % of Muslims live in the northern states – Uttar Pradesh, Bihar, West Bengal, and Assam, with the overall population growth of northern states being faster than that of southern states. Within this framework let us compare Bihar, with a 15 % Muslim population with Kerala, which has a 25 % Muslim population. Yet, in 2001-2011, Bihar’s overall population grew by 25 percent while Kerala’s population grew by 5 percent – that is, despite the fact that there are more Muslims in Kerala, the overall growth rate of Bihar was five times the growth rate of Kerala.
Q: Are there any more interesting comparisons between Hindus and Muslims across regions? A: Yes, if you compare the Muslims of Kerala with the Hindus of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar you will find the rate of growth of Muslims is less, although it is higher than the growth rate of Hindus in Kerala. Southern states have experienced a lower rate of growth than the northern states of the country; really speaking the higher rate of growth among the 60 odd percent Muslims who live in the northern states is more or less part of a northern culture than a ‘Muslim’ culture.
Q: You mentioned something about the urban-rural aspect while looking at the higher rate of growth among Muslims in the country. A:In states such as Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and Maharashtra, a large percentage of Muslims live in urban areas: say 40 % of Muslims as compared to 25 % Hindus. Because of better health facilities, the mortality rate among Muslims is lower and plays a role in the increase in rate of population growth.
Q: Demographers are saying that the rate of increase among Muslims is higher than that of Hindus owing to higher fertility, higher child mortality among Hindus and greater life expectancy among Muslims. Is this connected to the urban-rural aspect? A: Muslims are more urban-based. They are mostly artisans. So, despite the fact that they are poorer, their mortality rate is lower. It is not just a question of how many children are born but also a question of levels of mortality.
Q: You mentioned migration as a third important factor influencing the growth rate of Muslims in India. A: It becomes clear when you compare a 1971 map of India with a 2011 map. The 1971 map of India shows that apart from Jammu and Kashmir there were only two Muslim majority districts in India: Mallapuram in Kerala and Murshidabad in West Bengal. The 2011 map of India shows between 10 to 15 districts in India in Bihar, West Bengal and Assam where Muslims are in a majority. It is not so much due to higher fertility as it is due to migration from Bangladesh. The rate of growth has to be seen in these terms as well.
Apart from the role played by regional patterns, the urban-rural dimension and migration, there is a fourth factor determining the rate of growth of various religious communities if you take a long-term view. What I am getting at is that fertility varies. There are historical reasons because of which fertility for certain groups is high or low. From 1971 to 2001, Kerala and Tamil Nadu had the least population growth in India and they were followed by – surprisingly – Orissa owing to the fact that fertility among the tribal population was low.
The rate of growth of various communities is a complex phenomenon and it is important that we understand that. I am aware that to there is a religious aspect to it as well when it comes to restriction on family planning – more explicit among Catholics but also found among Muslims at certain levels – but there are more important factors at work which play a role in increasing the growth rate of Muslims than just the natural growth of population.
Q: So there’s much more to Census data on religious communities than religion. Is there a way to read it in conjunction with other Census figures to get a more illuminating picture?
A: I would say that reading these figures with the data on rate of increase of population (2001-2011) will give you a very good picture. You will find that in Lakshadweep, which has a 100 % Muslim population, the rate of population growth has been very poor. To associate higher population growth with Islam may not always work. Digressing a bit, look at Bangladesh – its rate of population growth has fallen drastically, even more so than India and its health indicators are far better than India’s.
Q: Are you saying that when we see this data only in terms of Hindu population slipping below 80 % as against Muslims increasing to 14.2 %, we are liable to miss out several underlying patterns that have a bearing on how India develops?
A: Exactly. Let me give you an example. As I have already pointed out, a regional, state-wise analysis of the Census data will show that population growth and fertility is a regional phenomena because of which the share of Kerala’s population (with 25 % Muslims) has come down from 4 % to 2.5 % in the overall population in the last 40 years.
Kerala actually gains from this. For instance, Finance Commission grants are based on the 1971 population, so Kerala gets more funds per capita, while states like Uttar Pradesh and Bihar lose out because of their higher population growth.
Similarly, the number of parliamentary seats is fixed on the basis of the population of 1971. So even though the population of Uttar Pradesh increases, they can’t send more members of Parliament.
In a city rife with pain and conspiracy, citizens ask, ‘Who did this to us?’
File photo of policemen in Bangkok. Credit: soleir/Flickr, CC 2.0
Around the time that I moved back to Bangkok in 2012 a C-4 bomb packed with ball bearings exploded on soi 71, a 10-minute taxi ride from my new apartment. It was February 14, and it seemed like a curious welcome. Since I had moved to Bangkok from the Middle East, the irony was not lost on me.
Five suspects were identified, all of Iranian nationality, having apparently detonated their own device by accident. It was a scene straight out of Dostoevsky’s “The Possessed.” They tried to flee on foot, but were cornered at the scene by Thai police. One of them, Saeid Moradi, first tried to flag a taxi but was turned down by the driver, aghast at the sight of so much blood. Moradi promptly threw a grenade into the car, badly injuring the driver. When the police arrived, Moradi threw a second grenade in their direction but, following the Buddhist laws of Karma, the grenade hit a tree, bounced back toward him, and blew his legs off.
Moradi was tried in a wheelchair. His accomplices were either caught at the airport trying to flee the country or arrested in Kuala Lumpur the following day. Two got away: Norouzi Shaya Ali Akbar is thought to have escaped to Iran, as did the lone woman terrorist Leila Rohani.
“There are many theories,” a government spokeswoman gallantly and vaguely declared a couple of weeks later. But no theory could deny the fact that all five suspects were operatives of the Iranian government, and that those who had returned to Iran would never face trial. The “investigation,” like the theories, came to nothing, and gradually — Thailand being Thailand — was forgotten altogether.
Officials later claimed that they had found no links to international terrorist or militant groups. Of course the Iranian government neither gave up the suspects nor admitted to any knowledge of connections to a prospective attack on the Israeli embassy in Bangkok or to actual attacks on Israeli embassy targets in India and Georgia. Thais, like most people, thrive on conspiracy theories, but eventually the chatter subsided and news of other, more humdrum domestic bombs aroused their appetite for gossip and speculation.
‘Ra-beert,’ they sighed. A bomb. No-one injured. Dessert served as usual.
Reactions to last week’s bombings at the Erawan shrine seem destined to follow a similar pattern, though this time the targets were foreign tourists. The strange gilded figure of Brahma, originally built in 1956 to appease spirits disturbed by the building of a luxury hotel nearby, has become the spiritual and touristic heart of the city over the years — contradictory as those two things may be. Every other day I walk past the shrine on the Ratchaprasong skywalk, and pause for a moment to watch the dancers in their glittering spired headdresses.
Unable to admit that they don’t know anything — or that they know something too dire to tell — various official agencies have made contradictory statements in a desperate effort not to lose face. It’s important, after all, that they appear to be in control. For a military government in particular, control is crucial. But forensically, the situation does not look promising.
BBC News’ Southeast Asia correspondent Jonathan Head picked up fragments of ball bearings near the Erawan shrine and took them down to the local police station. He arrived after official working hours, and the station, he was told, was closed. Officials made statement after statement, each one more baffling than the last. All could have been supplanted by a simple: “We haven’t got a clue.”
Damage caused by the Bangkok bombing. Credit: Zinlet Aung, VOA. Wikimedia commons
Was the yellow-shirted suspect who got a ride on a motocy taxi to Lumpini Park a “foreigner,” as the driver claimed, or was he connected to the Red Shirts in the North-East? Was he an ethnic Uighur Muslim seeking revenge for the junta’s deportation of more than 100 Uighurs in early July? Bangkok is a crossroads for Uighurs making their way from China to Turkey and the Middle East, many of them radicalized. And who were the other 10 people suspected to be part of a “network”?
Ordinary Thais remain laconic, stoic and unfazed. The day after the bombing I went shopping at Gourmet Market in the luxury Emporium mall: not a trace of hysteria or anxiety. Shoppers were out in force with their babies, buying sushi grade tuna and Hokkaido lavender milk. Here, you put on a brave face — rather like the English do.
Would Buddhists, even die-hard Red Shirts, do such a thing?
Last year, during the interminable but largely non-lethal protests that resulted in a takeover by the current military government, I was sitting in a restaurant near my house called The Local. An explosion rocked the silverware and made the windows shudder. It was almost comical. The waitresses looked around, smiled sweetly and shrugged with infinite unconcern. (It was later rumoured that someone had tossed a grenade into the house of former prime minister Abhisit Veijjajiva, who lives in the neighbourhood.) “Ra-beert,” they sighed. A bomb. No-one injured. Dessert served as usual.
But this week something has changed the equation.
As pundits tirelessly point out, Thailand has known political violence before. In 2010, 90 people were shot dead during clashes between the army and Red Shirts next to Erawan shrine. A handful of people also died last year during political riots. In February two pipe bombs went off at a luxury shopping mall next to the Ratchaprasong skywalk. So we know that this peculiar junction is popular with extremists of various hues. For years now, residents have dreaded the spread of the southern Muslim insurgency to the capital. It hasn’t happened. The bombs have mainly stayed in Hat Yai, and the preferred method of cold-blooded murder in those restive provinces has remained the humble bullet.
Yet the destruction of a revered shrine, and the carnage caused inside, is indeed something new. Would Buddhists, even die-hard Red Shirts, do such a thing? It seems unlikely. The destruction of shrines and killing of tourists has for the most part been restricted to a particular group of international terrorists, whose involvement the government seems anxious to exclude. Government spokesman Colonel Winthai Suvaree firmly declared that the bombing was “unlikely” to be connected to international terrorist groups. If this statement turns out to be false, don’t expect anyone to actually admit it.
The suspension of two college girls in a prosperous, highly literate small town showcases India’s struggles with female independence and offers some clues to their low workplace presence.
The suspension of two college girls in a prosperous, highly literate small town showcases India’s struggles with female independence and offers some clues to their low workplace presence
The town of Subrahmanya, Karnataka. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
The photograph that stirred the small, temple town of Subrahmanya in lush, prosperous coastal Karnataka this week is notable for its ordinariness.
Two slim, young women in slacks, t-shirts and comfortable shoes sit on the ground of a semi-finished building and lean against each other. Behind them is a forest. Besides them is a pint of beer, two bottles of cheap wine and a plastic glass. Both appear to be at peace, smiling and lost in their thoughts, sharing a quiet, private moment.
It wasn’t to remain private. The photo–it is in our possession, but we will not share it here to spare the women another invasion of their already invaded privacy–got on to Whatsapp and went viral through the district of Dakshin Kannada, better known by its capital city, Mangalore.
The moral guardians of Mangalore
Source: IndiaSpend
Mangalore is known for its often violent Hindu and Muslim vigilante groups. Their targets typically have been mixed groups of men and women and Hindus and Muslims: at a pub, a home stay, an ice-cream parlour, even school girls and boys posing playfully in a Whatsapp picture.
Last year, a Muslim group called Muslim Defence Force was created to stop “Love Kesari“, a counter to the Hindu bogey of “Love Jihad”, which originated six years ago across the border in Kerala’s northern districts. The core philosophy of both groups is the same: Stop women from meeting, consorting with or marrying men of the other religion.
With the young women of Subrahmanya, the fact that one girl was Muslim and the other Hindu did not help, or that the Muslim woman’s father was a BJP worker.
The wine, beer bottles and the trees implicated the women—if they were men, it would not have mattered—both second-year B.Com students of the 32-year-old Kukke Shri Subrahmanyeshwara College in Subrahmanya, a conservative temple town in the foothills of the Western Ghats. The evidence clearly indicated that they were partying, and that was not acceptable to the district’s moral guardians, in this case the Akhil Bharatiya Vidyarthi Parishad (ABVP), the BJP’s student wing.
ABVP activists brought the photo to the attention of the police, as a matter of public order, and pressured the principal of the college, Dinesh Kamath, to do something. He suspended the young women.
When IndiaSpend called Kamath, he said the suspension was “temporary”, until the facts were sorted out. He confirmed that the photo was not shot in his college but likely two years ago, when the young women and a friend visited the neighbouring coffee-growing district of Kodagu. On August 18, the suspension was revoked.
IndiaSpend asked him a larger question: In such a highly literate district, how does a college principal deal with teen hormones and the yearning for freedom?
“You see, whatever the literacy rate, there are personal weaknesses,” said Kamath. “We can do anything in India, is it not? The constitution guarantees freedom, isn’t it?” He paused. “But should there not be limits? We should know the limits. Should parents not tell them?”
The young women would be released from suspension, Kamath indicated. Their families have grounded them, and–as is increasingly evident across India–the women are likely to learn of new boundaries and restrictions, as they begin their journey into adulthood.
As statistics go, Dakshin Kannada appears to be a good place to grow up female in emerging India. The sex ratio of 1,020 women for every 1,000 men is among India’s best (national average: 940), according to census 2011.
The female literacy is 78%, 13 points above the national average for women. The district’s women are among India’s oldest when they get married, at an average age of 24—and this is for women in rural areas, according to state health data.
Girls routinely top local exams, many stream out into the professional world beyond their lush district, and development has proved to be a great contraceptive. Dakshin Kannada’s total fertility rate is 1.4, down by half over 30 years; it is now the same as Japan and lower than Switzerland.
If it were not for inward migration, the district’s population would decline. The infant mortality is 35 deaths per 100,000 live births (India: 43), better than richer and more developed Iran.
Three clues to Dakshin Kannada’s struggle with female emancipation are available in the mean age at marriage, child-sex ratio and workplace data.
The first clue: The mean age of marriage in urban areas is lower than rural, skewing the overall mean marriage age to 23.5, lower than the rural age of 24, the data reveal. This means the pressure to marry is greater in more literate urban areas.
The second clue: In 2011, the child-sex ratio–the number of girls, aged zero to six, for every 1,000 boys—in Dakshin Kannada was 947 to India’s 918. But the district’s child-sex ratio is down from 952 in 2001, echoing a larger trend in India’s richest areas. As richer, more educated women have fewer children, there is pressure on them to ensure these children are boys. Little else explains Mangalore’s declining number of female infants.
More than 90% of women—all except one were literate—in a 2014 Mangalore study were aware of pre-natal sex selection, 75% knew it was a crime, but a majority of them still wanted to know the sex of their child, a group of researchers reported in the Journal of Diagnostic Research.
The third clue to the clipping of female wings is available from Dakshin Kannada’s workplace data. The female work participation rate fell from 42% in 2001 to 25% in 2011, according to a 2013 paper from the Institute of Social and Economic Change, Bangalore. Globally, this is not an unusual trend: when societies are poor, more women tend to work; as incomes rise, they tend to withdraw, returning when education levels rise.
Educated young women: Shackled by their societies
It is known that India does particularly badly as regard women in the workplace.
“Female labor force participation in India is lower than many other emerging market economies, and has been declining since the mid-2000s,” notes a 2015 International Monetary Fund working paper.
Within this demographic, the unemployment rate in India is highest for urban women with graduate degrees and above, Shriya Anand and Jyothi Koduganti of the Indian Institute of Habitat Settlements wrote in thisIndiaSpend piece last month. More than a fifth of such highly educated women–who could significantly boost the economy–could not find jobs, they reported, quoting government employment data.
The conundrum: While Indian companies struggle to fill positions, Indian women with graduate degrees and above cannot find jobs. There are no data for this, but our hypothesis, in line with the observations of social scientists, is that even highly educated Indian women often find it hard to break the shackles of family and tradition.
Your correspondent has met many young women who live away from home but are still shackled by the expectations and rules of families, neighbours, teachers, bosses and random strangers. For each woman who breaks free, there are many who cannot.
It is unclear what will happen to the two young women of Subrahmanya, but it is clear that instead of being defended, they will be informed of what is–or should be–out of bounds in Indian culture.
“WhatsApp is killing our culture and education,” K. Byrappa, the vice chancellor of Mangalore University, toldBangalore Mirror. “Colleges should ban its use …we have to maintain the dignity of higher education. India is known for excellent education and many foreign universities are following the Indian system of education. Hence, blindly aping the West is not correct.”
Samar Halarnkar is the editor of IndiaSpend.org and FactChecker.in.
Indiaspend.org is a data-driven, public-interest journalism non-profit.
Contrary to the belief that the All India Muslim Personal Law Board—an NGO—is considered the highest decision making body on personal law by Muslims in the country, a survey has revealed that 95.5 per cent of women from economically underprivileged backgrounds had not even heard of the organisation. The survey also found that an overwhelming number of these women want reforms in Muslim personal law as is prevalent in India. Specifically, they want a codified law based on the Quranic justice framework to cover matters such as age of marriage, divorce procedures, polygamy, and custody of children among others.
The survey of Muslim women’s views on reforms in Muslim personal law—Seeking Justice Within the Family—conducted by the Bharatiya Muslim Mahila Andolan across 10 states reveals that an overwhelming 82% of the over 4,000 women who were surveyed had no property in their name and that 78% were home makers with no income of their own.
“It is quite revealing that 95.5% poor women had not even heard of the All India Muslim Personal Law Board, yet the government and the people go by the decisions taken by these self-proclaimed leaders of the Muslim community,’’ says Zakia Soman, co-founder of the Mahila Andolan.
More than 40% of the women surveyed had received less than Rs 1,000 as mehr—the mandatory payment a groom must make to the bride at the time of marriage which then is considered her own property—while 44% of them did not even receive any mehr at all. Most respondents were not aware of the empowering provisions of mehr and that it was their right to decide the amount. As many as 84% of the women surveyed wanted the annual income of the husband to be the minimum mehr amount.
An overwhelming 91.7% have spoken out against polygamy, saying that a Muslim man should not be allowed to have another wife during the subsistence of the first marriage. Of the 525 divorced women in the survey, 66% were divorced orally (i.e. triple talaq) and 78% were divorced unilaterally. This indicates that 88% of the women want the legal divorce to be the ‘talaq-e-ahsan’ method spread across over a period of 90 days and involving negotiations and avoiding arbitrariness.
Half of the women surveyed receive maintenance from their husband during the marriage but 27 per cent reported receiving none. Almost half of the divorced women were either being supported by their parents of were supporting themselves by working as they did not receive maintenance from husband.
Also, 88% of the women feel that their family disputes can be resolved if the law is codified while 89% want the government to intervene in helping codify Muslim Personal Law. Over 86% want religious leaders to take responsibility for enabling Muslim women to get justice in the family and they want these leaders to support the bringing about of a gender-just law. Similarly, an equal percentage of women want the community-based legal dispute resolution mechanism to continue so long as the functionaries are made accountable to law and to principles of justice. They want the government to help ensure this accountability through a legal mechanism while 90% want the qazis to be brought under a legal accountability mechanism.
A detailed questionnaire was administered to 4,710 Muslim women above 18 years of age and 73% of these were from poor background with family income of below Rs 50,000 annually. The data was collected between July and December 2013.
More than 55% of the women surveyed were married before the age of 18 years while 10% said they were married when they were above 21 years. Just about half of them had 1 or 2 children but did not possess a copy of their nikahnama – a legal document of marriage.
On dispute resolution, 53% reported having faced domestic violence at some point in their lives. Whenit comes to complaining about domestic issues,mMost women said they first go to their family, followed by the police and then social organisations or NGOs. Barely 1% of the women reported having gone to a qazi or Darul Qaza (religious heads).
While 75% of the respondents wanted the age of marriage to be above 18 years, 88% said boys should marry above the age of 21.
The survey was conducted on women from Maharashtra, Gujarat, West Bengal, Karnataka, Bihar, Tamil Nadu, Madhya Pradesh, Rajasthan, Jharkhand and Odisha.
Underlying the principles of love and compassion, the founder of Sikhism, Guru Nanak decreed that no person must ever go hungry. Gurudwaras around the world take this seriously.
Golden Temple, Amritsar. Credit: sandeepachetan.com
I elbow my way past pedestrians, carts and the occasional cow down a narrow road in Amritsar, Punjab. The afternoon sun beats down mercilessly, forcing me to squint. “Maybe it is a bad time to visit” I tell myself.
Within minutes however, everything else seems to melt away as my eyes widen to take in the sheer expanse and grandeur of the structure in front of me. Its minarets and walls glisten with gold and its central dome stands high in majestic glory, sagely surveying the thousands below. Considered the holiest of shrines in the Sikh religion, the Golden Temple is to Sikhs what St. Peter’s Basilica is to Catholics or the Kaaba to Muslims.
I buy a scarf to cover my head. Visitors are expected to cover their heads as a sign of respect. I leave my shoes and collect a token for them at a neatly organised stall, run by volunteers, before washing my feet in a pool of water (again, mandatory) I enter the shrine from one of its four entrances, built to indicate openness to all religions. Inside, the temple complex is massive with a large tank surrounding the temple. Devotees take dips in the holy water, while others mill around the marbled quadrangle with their eyes closed, brows furrowed and palms together, absorbed in their prayers. Despite the crowd, there isn’t the cacophony I had expected, but a revered silence. I am surrounded by European backpackers, newly weds, turbaned Sikh men and families.
One of the tenets of the Sikh religion is the “langar” – A kitchen, where a free meal is served to all visitors every day. This has been the practice since the founding of the Shrine in 1604. Imagine 100,000 people at a sit-down lunch every day! I cynically mutter “Impossible. Got to see this for myself”. Soon, I find myself in a queue approaching the dining hall with a plate and spoon in hand. Volunteers guide the crowd, wash used utensils and keep the place absolutely clean. The hall is lined with hundreds of people seated cross-legged on mats while Sikh men in uniform serve lunch – A simple but tasty vegetarian fare prepared by any visitor who wishes to contribute and serve on that day. My mind tries to calculate the number of rotis (flattened bread) that must be produced for 100,000 people on a daily basis. It is unfathomable.
Having lived and worked in the globalised world where everything must make “logical sense”, I don’t understand why the Sikhs do this. It requires immense planning, costs millions of dollars, no return on investment and… My thoughts are interrupted by a nudge in the ribs. The man sitting next to me, smiles. He is emaciated, wears torn clothes with white plaster stains on his shirt. He asks me where I am from. I tell him. He says I am a long way from home. He is a Hindu and though his family lives far away in another state, he has come to Punjab to make a living as a labourer. “A few more years…” he adds wistfully. In front of me, sits a turbaned gentleman in a business suit, his tie carefully tucked away while he eats. He catches my eye. “First time here?” he enquires in impeccable English. We start talking. He runs several businesses in Canada and visits India every year. “Surely there are Gurudwaras in Toronto?” I ask. “True…. But… It isn’t the same…” he trails off, looking around the hall.
Langar at the Holden temple. Credit: Haresh Patel, CC 2.0
Then it hits me! This is the reason why the Sikhs undertake this immense task – So that people, irrespective of religion, nationality, sex, status, caste or creed may sit down together and partake in a meal. No separate dining areas and no preferential treatment, even if you are the President. Underlying the principles of love and compassion, the founder of Sikhism, Guru Nanak decreed that no person must ever go hungry. Gurudwaras around the world take this seriously. The idea of a simple meal as humanity’s greatest equaliser moves me.
The man next to me wipes his mouth on his shirtsleeve and bids goodbye. He will be back again tomorrow he says. His friends wait for him on the other side of the hall. I wonder if Sikh volunteers at the temple would ever get irritated and consider regulars “freeloaders” My eyes follow the group of labourers as they exit the hall. A sturdy guard at the door flashes them a smile and engages in a quick, familiar chat. My question is answered.
I collect my shoes from an old man who mans the locker facility. I ask him if he works here. “Oh. No” he laughs “I am too old for that! But my wife and I choose to volunteer here 2 days every week” There is pride in his voice. He leans forward “Son, did you eat lunch?”
“Yes”
“Ah. Good” His eyes crinkle in an avuncular smile.
Of course the Golden Temple is a visual treat. Steeped in history, it boasts of beautiful architecture and rare paintings. But it is more than all that. It is not another visit that you merely cross off your travel agenda. It is an experience. It stays with you long after you go back to the world where everything must make economic sense and where there is no such thing as a “free lunch”
Bajrangi Bhaijaan taps into the desire of ordinary Indians and Pakistanis for closer relations
A poster of the film ‘Bajrangi Bhaijaan’.
I went to see Bajrangi Bhaijaan with no expectations, because the friends I went with warned me that Salman Khan films (of which I had seen only HAHK) were just meaningless fun. I emerged, however, deeply moved.
The film’s protagonist, Pavan (a reference to Hanuman, son of the wind god) is known as Bajrangi (another name for Hanuman, meaning “iron-limbed”). He is a true devotee, seeing only good in everyone until they are manifestly proven wicked. Just as Hanuman in the Ramayana travels to Lanka to help bring Sita home, Bajrangi travels to Pakistan to bring a mute little Pakistani girl (Shahida aka Munni) home.
Like Hanuman, Bajrangi selflessly risks life and limb to do the right thing. Unlike Hanuman, he does not have miraculous powers, so he suffers torture and nearly dies in the process. For me the most moving moments in the film occur when the Hanuman Chalisa is evoked. Attributed to Tulsidas, this is one of the two most popular prayers in north India, chanted by millions every day. Hanuman, as mediator and wish-fulfiller, has also garnered some devotion across religious lines. In the late eighteenth century, a queen, Begum Janab-e-Alia, second wife of Nawab Shuja ud Daula (reigned 1753-75) built a Hanuman temple (where the festival of Bada Mangal is celebrated as a symbol of Lucknow’s famous Hindu-Muslim harmony); she is said to have done this after dreaming of Hanuman telling her to do so.
The first evocation of the Chalisa is when Bajrangi, having used all his and his girlfriend’s savings to pay a tout to send the six-year-old Munni home, discovers that the tout is selling her to a brothel. He stands still for a moment, as if unable to believe the depth of this nightmarish wickedness. A tear slowly wells out of his eye as lines from the Chalisa swell in the background, including the line: Sukshma rup dhari Siyahi dikhaava/Vikat rup dhari lank jaraava (He took a subtle form to show Sita, and a terrible form to burn Lanka). The line suggests the ability of the divine/human/animal manifestation that is Hanuman to adjust his being to the requirements of the moment.
Tender moments
Likewise, Bajrangi, who is always tender in a parental way to Munni (he gently covers her sleeping face with a veil when sitting amidst a crowd of men at the dargah), explodes into action, pulverizing the modern-day demons, the pimps, and sending the tout flying through the window, while the neighborhood watches, stunned. He then carries Munni away on his back.
The second moment is when Bajrangi’s girlfriend begs him not to go to Pakistan without passport or visa, because this will most likely result in his death or lifelong incarceration. He replies, Sankat katey mitey sab peera/Jo sumire Hanumat balbira (Difficulties are demolished, suffering wiped out, for one who remembers Hanuman the powerful), and adds that one who has Ram in his heart needs neither passport nor visa.
Bajrangi, who is reluctant to step into mosques, visits a dargah in Pakistan to pray for Munni’s safe return. This reflects the experience of most Hindus, who do not visit mosques but do visit dargahs in large numbers. The Sufi song at the dargah, Bhar le jholi meri ya Mohammad, expresses the sentiment of approaching God to get a wish fulfilled, a sentiment with which millions also go to Hanuman temples on Tuesdays.
Dargah Ashmuqam, the 14th century shrine in Kashmir of Sufi Zainuddin Wali, where the sequence was shot, was attacked by Lashkar in 2005. Islamists have attacked many dargahs both in India and Pakistan for being centres of syncretic devotion, where women also participate along with men, which hardliners see as “shirk”.
The film thus asserts popular devotion, true dharma and mazhab, both Muslim and Hindu, against the rigid versions of religion propagated by Islamists and Hindutva proponents. It provides a balanced view of modern-day Hinduism, with the pure-souled Bajrangi contrasted to his fanatical father and a group of saffron-clad men who violently attack the Pakistani embassy.
The film is not quite as balanced in its presentation of Pakistan, though, which emerges as a paradise of sorts. Every ordinary individual Bajrangi encounters helps and supports him, risking their own safety, including a maulvi who happily says “Jai Shri Ram” when Bajrangi cannot bring himself to say “Khuda Hafiz.”
Even the Pakistani police are remarkably tolerant. They allow Bajrangi to cross the Rajasthan border without a visa, and later, though they naturally suspect him of being a spy, the officer-in-charge halts his beating when he gets to know the real story, and, at considerable risk to himself, engineers Bajrangi’s return to India.
Cinema is about desire, though, and the desire here is a Gandhian one. Gandhi had asked Hindus to see Muslims as younger brothers and treat them with indulgence and forgiveness; he also wanted independent India to view Pakistan as a younger brother. At the time, this metaphor annoyed many Hindus as well as Muslims.
Subtle metaphors
Salman Khan’s subtler version of the metaphor, tapping into deeper layers of desire for rapprochement in both countries, has succeeded in India and also appears to have gone across very well in Pakistan (it probably helps that Pakistan is shown winning both cricket matches with India that appear in the film!).
The term “Bhaijaan” is used only for an older brother, not a younger one. At the end of the film, the Pakistani crowd chants “Bajrangi Bhaijaan”, while little Munni, finding her voice, screams “Mama”. A woman’s brother is supposed to be a protector for her and her children. The chant is reinforced by the last image of Bajrangi holding up Munni in the no-man’s-land between the two countries while supportive spectators watch from both sides.
The only false note the film strikes is the chicken song. As a caring avuncular figure, Bajrangi rightly overcomes his revulsion in order to get Munni the food she wants to eat. But tolerating the eating practices of others is very different from celebrating the torture and slaughter of chickens.
Despite this misstep, the film answers Hindutva with Hindu devotion and Islamism with Muslim devotion, which, in my view, is the only effective answer. Salman, the son of a Hindu mother and a Muslim father, grew up in a home where puja coexisted with namaz, and he is a Muslim who has helped carry the Ganesh murti during Ganesh Chaturthi festivities. His family represents the syncretic traditions of Indian devotion that the film expresses so powerfully.
Our godmen are rich beyond the dreams of avarice, but ask one of them to set out a position on climate change and he will tie himself in knots and call it yoga
Our godmen are rich beyond the dreams of avarice, but ask one of them to set out a position on climate change and he will tie himself in knots and call it yoga
An aerial view of the landscape near Uummannaq, Greenland, and the fastest moving glacier on the planet. Photo: United Nations, CC 2.0
Laudato Si’, the encyclical on climate change that Pope Francis issued in June, is an extraordinary document. Starting with a masterly summary of the enormous problems identified by science, which other denominations still refuse to accept, it argues that climate change is the work of man, which risks destroying the work of god, and therefore, from the perspective of faith, makes an eloquent, powerful plea on behalf of humanity, but particularly for the poorest, who will be the hardest hit, as the Intergovernmental Panel for Climate Change has warned in its Fifth Assessment Report. This is the second encyclical of Francis’s pontificate, but since the first, Lumen Fidei, promulgated in June, 2013, was the work of his predecessor, Benedict XVI, left unfinished when he stepped down, Laudato Si’ is the first that presents a world-view that is entirely his. One of the central messages of the last encyclical was “Unless you believe, you will not understand”; here, Francis almost seems to tell his flock that unless they understand they will not believe.
Back to liberation theology
Anyone who remembers the intellectual debates of the 1970s will read the encyclical with a sense of déjà vu, because many of the concerns it voices – on social justice, the special needs of the poor, the sin of rampant waste, the whoring after the false gods of technology – were first raised then in the Catholic Church in the tracts of liberation theology, which started in and took over Latin America as Francis began his priesthood there. That movement divided the Church, with conservatives fearing that the “preferential option for the poor”, the mantra that liberation theology espoused, as well as the practices it urged, were based on Marxist, rather than Christian, doctrine. The counter-attack on liberation theology, and on its leading ideologue, Father Gustavo Gutierrez, was launched in the 1980s by Cardinal Ratzinger, who later was to become Pope Benedict XVI.
It was believed Francis was ambivalent about liberation theology, but in 2013, soon after being anointed Pope, he invited Father Gutierrez to the Vatican for what was symbolically an embrace of the author, if not of the doctrine. The latest encyclical goes a step further. In echoing the concerns of liberation theology, it heals the rift his predecessor opened as Cardinal and widened as Pope. In a way, this encyclical is a rite of passage, from the last pontificate to this.
What is remarkable, though, is that the intellectual arguments and the moral positions on climate change that Francis adopts were first presented by the Catholic bishops of the United States in two astonishing pastoral statements, “Renewing the Earth” in 1991 and “Global Climate Change: a plea for dialogue, prudence and the common good” in 2001. In 1991, the Bishops began with the following bold propositions:
“Humanity faces problems in five interrelated fields: environment, energy, economics, equity, and ethics. To ensure the survival of a healthy planet, then, we must not only establish a sustainable economy but must also labour for justice both within and among nations. We must seek a society where economic life and environmental commitment work together to protect and to enhance life on this planet.
The whole human race suffers as a result of environmental blight, and generations yet unborn will bear the cost for our failure to act today. But in most countries today, including our own, it is the poor and the powerless who most directly bear the burden of current environmental carelessness.
How can we recognise and confront the possible conflicts between environment and jobs, and work for the common good and solutions that value both people and the earth? How do we secure protection for all God’s creatures, including the poor and the unborn? How can the United States, as a nation, act responsibly about this ever more global problem? And how, in working for a sustainable global economy, do we fulfil our obligations in justice to the poor of the Third World?”
In 2001, they went further:
“At its core, global climate change is not about economic theory or political platforms, nor about partisan advantage or interest group pressures. It is about the future of God’s creation and the one human family. It is about protecting both “the human environment” and the natural environment. It is about our human stewardship of God’s creation and our responsibility to those who come after us.
The dialogue and our response to the challenge of climate change must be rooted in the virtue of prudence.
Because of the blessings God has bestowed on our nation and the power it possesses, the United States bears a special responsibility in its stewardship of God’s creation to shape responses that serve the entire human family…..
Therefore, we especially want to focus on the needs of the poor, the weak, and the vulnerable in a debate often dominated by more powerful interests. Inaction and inadequate or misguided responses to climate change will likely place even greater burdens on already desperately poor peoples. Action to mitigate global climate change must be built upon a foundation of social and economic justice that does not put the poor at greater risk or place disproportionate and unfair burdens on developing nations.”
The Pope’s dwindling divisions
Every argument made in the encyclical can be traced back to these two seminal documents. Insofar as an encyclical is first and foremost a pastoral letter, when he addresses the US bishops, Francis is preaching to the converters; they have baptised him. A liberal Pope has now brought the Church to a position that these bishops bravely staked out two decades back. But it is equally clear that the advocacy of the US bishops has not pushed the official US position forward. Will the encyclical help?
The authority of an encyclical far surpasses that of a statement adopted by bishops, but its impact on the US, and even on US Catholics, will be limited. A Pew study on the changing face of religion in America, issued in May 2015, shows that Catholics continue to shrink as a percentage of the US population, down from 23.9%, when its last survey was carried out in 2007, to 20.8%. Evangelical Protestants, whose leaders stridently oppose the science of climate change, are at 25.4%, Mainline Protestants 14.7%. The Catholic Church’s views are therefore in a minority within the Christian population, and strongly opposed by some of the other sects.
The composition of the Catholic population in the US has also changed dramatically. Racial and ethnic minorities now make up 41% of Catholics (up from 35% in 2007); most of them are Hispanics, at the bottom of the economic pile. The encyclical’s call to change lifestyles in the developed world, cutting back on consumption and industrialization, is a direct threat to those who have moved there to chase the American dream. (The encyclical’s solutions are almost Gandhian – smaller communities, small-scale industries.) What helps those they left behind in their mother countries will be opposed most stridently by the Hispanic Catholics of the US. Knowing this, with elections coming up in 2016, it is hard to see Presidential aspirants giving more than short shrift to the encyclical.
A message many can use
Barring Japan and Turkey, all the countries listed in Annexes 1 and 2 of the Framework Convention on Climate Change – those that have special responsibilities – are part of the Christian world, where a papal encyclical should carry weight. But though it will be read with interest in the Protestant and Orthodox ecumenical streams, with respect in the Catholic, its message is too inconvenient to influence policy in States where in any case the secular tradition is allergic to the religious. It may, however, have an impact on negotiating dynamics in international forums.
On critical issues at international conferences in the past, as on women’s reproductive rights, children’s rights and HIV/AIDS, the Vatican has made common cause with the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation to block liberal proposals, setting the Catholic world against the Protestant. (It is a blot on this encyclical that it uses a procrustean argument to justify a continued rejection of abortion.) In the upcoming conferences on climate change, including the Paris Summit, the Vatican may be expected to press for international commitments that address the problem without hurting the interests of the poorest. That will be a change from the divisive role it has played on other issues, but might not be helpful to India, whose needs and interests are sui generis.
The Pope’s apocalyptic vision of conflicts over water, of wars waged because “resources have been depleted”, can be used by Pakistan and the UK, which together brought climate change to the United Nations Security Council in 2013, to drag it back there. The UK, and other Annex 1 countries, wanted to use the Council to dilute the principle of common but differentiated responsibilities, Pakistan to send more shivers down Western spines by hinting that this could be another trigger for conflict in South Asia. The encyclical’s message will appeal to many developing countries, weakening the unity of the Group of 77, which has so far opposed a role for the Security Council in climate change.
A report on climate change as ambitious as the encyclical, commissioned by Germany as the current chair of the G-7, has reinforced this message. Called “A New Climate for Peace”, it starts off with the claim that “Climate change is a global threat to security in the 21st century. We must act quickly to limit the future risks to the planet we share and to the peace we seek.” The action it recommends is on three fronts – adaptation, development and humanitarian aid, and peacebuilding, the last of which brings climate change squarely within the remit of the UNSC. New Zealand, which holds the presidency of the Council for July, has announced a special meeting to consider the security problems of small island states. Both the encyclical and the G-7 paper will get full play there.
Silence of our godmen
It is a pity that nothing comparable to this encyclical has so far come out in India, which is at the centre of the debate on climate change. The Pope quotes from statements issued by his bishops elsewhere, but has nothing from the Indian bishops, who clearly either had nothing to say, or nothing worthwhile. Their intellectual inertia seems to have been infectious, though the principle of transgenerational responsibility, which the Pope stresses, should be of unique concern to Hindus. Unlike Christians, asked to ponder the consequences of their actions on generations after their death, Hindus will suffer them in their next lives. The impact of climate change across the generations is not just a moral dilemma for the Hindu, it is of the greatest possible self-interest. Our godmen are rich beyond the dreams of avarice, but ask one of them to set out a position on climate change and he will tie himself in knots and call it yoga. Or intone “Vasudevam kutumbakam”, after which he has shot his bolt. From Rome, the Pope has thrown down a moral gauntlet. Someone in Nagpur should pick it up.
Rajeev Sharma has received hate mail too but believes those who sent him such messages ‘cannot belong to any religion, because no religion in the world is opposed to peace’
Rajeev Sharma, author of Paighambar ro Paigham, the first biography of the Prophet Muhammad in Marwari
Rajeev Sharma is a Marwari and Hindi writer from Rajasthan who has recently published his retelling of Prophet Muhammad’s story in Marwari. He has previously written several books but his choice of subject for his latest book has left some in Rajasthan, the state where the language is widely spoken, intrigued. The Wire caught up with the young author to ask him a few questions about him and the book.
Tell us something about your reasons for having written a book on the life of the Prophet Muhammad. Why were you interested in this subject?
It was about 15 years ago, when I was in 9th standard, that I started a library in my native village. While reading books is considered a major task in schools, I have always been very interested in reading. Because of my deep interest in reading I got an opportunity to read many books of a diverse nature, ranging from comics to mythological books. During that time I found a pocket book depicting the life of Prophet Muhammad. It was when I was reading that, that I realised he spent his whole life struggling against negativity, but despite all the sad events in his life, his belief in God was as strong as a rock.
Apart from finding the book, two other incidents shaped my interest in the Prophet. I am from a Hindu-Brahmin family, but have always tried to protest against bad rituals and the ways of these so-called godmen, which ultimately only benefit them. In my village there was a priest who also worked as a moneylender. He would give out loans to villagers on sky-high interest rates. At times, the interest would have risen to lakhs, when the principal was only a few thousand rupees. Seeing him ruin the lives of people in the village, I was reminded of how Prophet Muhammad was one person who had clearly said that taking interest was a sin. He said it was motivated by evil.
Another time I had heard the story of a girl who was born in our family. When she was barely 5 years old, the family fixed her marriage because in the eyes of priests, marrying a girl before 12 years of age was a dharma vivaah! As luck would have it, at the time of the marriage itself her groom died. The priest then decided that the girl would live her life as the man’s widow. This incident always made me sad, and again I found resonance in the life of Prophet Muhammad, who had married a widow.
Do you feel that Muslims and Hindus in India do not read enough about each other’s cultures and beliefs?
Yes, that is true. Some people consider each other’s holy books as untouchable and most do not bother knowing about each other. Studying or knowing about some other religion or prophet and following their goodness doesn’t mean that you are going to change your own religion. I firmly believe in Prophet Muhammad, and I accept that he was a prophet of God. While I try to follow his teachings, I am as Hindu today as on the first day of my life. Youngsters should be motivated to study more about different religions, their teachings, and their beliefs. My younger brother read about Islamic banking in a finance journal and motivated me to write a book on the life of Prophet Muhammad.
Cover of Rajeev Sharma’s e-book
How did you come across information regarding the Prophet? What is the source of the information in your book?
I studied lot of books to research his life. Some are them were authored by writers from Afghanistan, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Egypt and even India. The Internet is also a good source of information.
Have you always been interested in the history of Islam and the life of the Prophet, or was there any incident that pushed you towards reading about this subject?
No, I was not always interested in Islam and the life of Prophet Muhammad. Like many others, my knowledge was limited to the basics. There wasn’t a single Muslim home in my village, and so exposure to the religion and its practices was limited. When I started my library and read a book on the Prophet, I decided to read more, and realized that my thoughts resonated with his writings. I wanted everyone to know his story then.
What do you think about the incidents of violence that take place between Hindus and Muslims in the country?
The reason for violence between Hindus and Muslims is simply misconceptions about each other and a sense of superiority regarding our own beliefs. All of us read religious books but rarely do we implement their messages in our life. The reading is akin to reading for examinations – for marks and not for knowledge. If you read the Quran, you will find words of peace and kindness. Hindu books clearly say preach that the world is our family and we know Jesus was praying for even the forgiveness of those who were crucifying him. These religious messages are what people should preach and practice in today’s world.
Have you faced any problems because of the subject of your book? What were the sort of objections that you faced in writing the book?
As I completed this book and was preparing to publish it on my blog, I was not scared or confused because I knew I was writing the truth. There is no need to be scared of saying the truth. My family members were fully supportive of the idea and people liked the book more than I had expected.
While I received messages praising the book from all over the world, I did receive some hate mail. People are calling for me to be shot or hanged, and some have even suggested I join the ISIS! Those e-mails really disappointed me. Was this the reward for writing about the Prophet? While interestingly none of the hate mail came from Muslims, I believe that those who post these messages are against the idea of peace, and cannot belong to any religion, because no religion in the world is opposed to peace.
The book is available online for free currently. Are there any plans to publish the book? How has the response been so far?
The response so far has been overwhelming in the e-format, but I think the book should get published in print too. I haven’t yet looked for a publisher but if a good publisher is ready then I would like to get it published.
Have you previously written other books in Marwari or translated works to Marwari? What were the subjects of these books?
Yes, Marwari is my mother-tongue. My first composition in Marwari was the translation of the Hanuman Chalisa. I have translated the stories of Tolstoy, letters written by Abraham Lincoln and teachings of Jainism among other things. I have also written several books in Hindi, all of which are available on my website.
What is the state of the Marwari publishing industry?
The situation is quite bad. It is difficult to even find bookstores that sell Marwari books in the entire state of Rajasthan. Marwari books are generally unavailable, and the younger crowd assumes they are for people of past generations. This can be corrected though, if books were more easily available.
From starting it to finally publishing it online, what was the most difficult aspect of writing such a unique book?
Writing and publishing the book have surprisingly been the easier parts. The problems for me started after the book was online. While some relatives assumed I had converted to Islam, others suggested avoiding topics that were related to other religions. A lot of people talk about this behind my back, but after a while you learn to laugh about it.
Are there any plans to write another book? Will the subject of the next book also be related to Islam?
Yes, I would definitely like to write more books. I want to write about the teachings of the Quran, which I think would be useful for everyone. I am also planning to write a book on Prophet Muhammad’s associates and people close to him. I want these books to be available in English and Hindi, too, along with Marwari.
Dharwad: Former Vice-Chancellor of Hampi University M M Kalburgi, the well-known scholar and epigraphist who courted controversy for his forthright views on religious, social and other issues, was shot dead at his Kalyanagar residence here this morning by unidentified gunmen. He was 77 years old.
