‘Histories written with political agendas bound to distort past’

Historian Upinder Singh’s much-talked-about book on ancient India discusses at length the role of force and coercion as a necessary part of royal and state authority.

‘Histories written with political agendas bound to distort past’
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Rohit Prakash

UPINDER SINGH’S work — Political Violence in Ancient India — has made historians and students of Indian history sit up and take notice. It took her eight years to write the book, she tells ROHIT PRAKASH in this interview. The book discusses at length the role of force and coercion as a necessary part of royal and state authority, pointing out that Emperor Ashoka did not disband his army even after he got converted to the cause of non-violence. At the same time, there were doubts and dissent in ancient India about the extent and efficacy of state violence. The interview and a short extract from the book (bottom of the page) provide a glimpse into the work which is possibly going to be talked about for some time to come.

‘Histories written with political agendas bound to distort past’

What were the challenges you dealt with while researching for and writing your new book?

My book deals with 1200 years (c. 600 BCE to 600 CE) and discusses texts like the Mahabharata, Ramayana, Arthashastra, Manusmriti, the works of Bhasa Kalidasa, and Vishakhadatta, the Panchatantra, Buddhist and Jain texts as well as inscriptions, coins and art. I also compare Indian ideas about political violence with ideas in other parts of the ancient world like Greece, Persia and China. And I talk about how Indian political ideas spread to other parts of the world. Dealing with all these things was challenging and time-consuming – it took eight years from start to finish!

You say the idea of ancient Indians being non-violent people is a myth. How has this myth been constructed over the years? Is it just Gandhi or do you see some historical narrative that had been in the making before that?

Gandhi and Nehru were part of a national movement in which non-violence was central. Gandhi had strong personal and political convictions about non-violence. Nehru wrote widely about Indian and world history and admired figures like Ashoka and the Buddha. He knew that Indian history had social inequalities and conflicts of various kinds, but he thought that it still had a remarkable element of harmony and tolerance. The Nehru-Gandhi vision of India and the non-violent foundation of Gandhian nationalism contributed towards creating the myth of a non-violent ancient India. Another myth that was around even before this was that Indians in general are other-worldly and spiritual. This this may also have been a contributing factor.

There is plenty of evidence to show that ancient Indian society was not a peaceful or non-violent society. The special thing is that ancient Indian thinkers were aware of the problem of violence and non-violence, and they discussed it with greater seriousness and intensity than anywhere else in the world.

The evidences you gave in the book to support your argument were in circulation. What you did remarkably is to turn the theory upside down as Marx did with Hegel. Why do you think the problem of political violence was not adequately noticed in the context of ancient India before your book?

My book is a history of ideas. The history of ideas has not been very popular among Indian historians writing on ancient India. Other historians have written about warfare, class and caste conflict, and so on. But in my book, I ask a different, more general question: How did ancient Indian thinkers understand and engage with the problem of political violence? Ultimately that is what it comes down to in history writing – what is your question?

You argue in the book that religions of non-violence (Jain and Buddha) also recognised that absolute non-violence was impossible in politics. Was it also not reflecting in Gandhi’s praxis, especially in the context of Non-cooperation movement of 1921-22 and Quit India movement of 1942?

There has always been a tension between ethics and politics, and this tension played out in different ways in different periods. On the one hand, there is a strong sensitivity in Indian thought towards the problem of violence. On the other hand, there is a realisation that in the real world, absolute non-violence is not possible. I think that Buddhism and Jainism came to terms with this. Perhaps, Gandhi was less willing to do so.

You say Ashoka’s pacifism had limits. Even while making powerful statement against war, he warned the forest tribes that he was ready to use force against them. Does it say something about the limits of state power? And, in this context, can we say that since Gandhi was not handling state power, so he could be firm in his opposition to violence?

In the history of the world, there has never been a ruler who has spoken so sincerely and passionately about goodness, virtue and non-violence as Ashoka did over 2000 years ago. And yet, although he talked about the terrible suffering caused by war, he gave a stern warning to the forest people. I think that he realised that it was not possible for a king to be absolutely non-violent. Also remember that although Ashoka believed so strongly in non-violence, he did not abolish the death penalty. Perhaps if Gandhi had been a ruler, he too would have had to make compromises on the issue of non-violence.

You mainly studied intellectual responses to violence offering a 1200-year history from 600 BCE to 600 CE and dealing with Buddhist, Jain and Hindu sources in your book. But, interestingly, you also discuss Panchatantra tales and its ideas of violence. Why did you decide to do that? How exactly did it help your narrative?

Ancient India did not only produce religious texts. The Panchatantra is one of the most influential and entertaining Indian texts of all time. Its stories travelled all over Asia and Europe. The Panchatantra describes itself as a work on politics, so I had to discuss it.

Many of its stories about lions, jackals, monkeys, birds, insects and others are about foolish kings and ambitious courtiers. The stories seem very funny, but many of them are actually very violent – they are about how to kill your enemy and avoid being killed. It also gives commonsense advice to people about friendship, working hard, quick thinking, and how to survive and get ahead in a difficult world. The Panchatantra’s political perspective is in many ways similar to that of the Arthashastra. Neither of them is really bothered about things like morality, dharma or religion.

How can these political ideas of violence from the past help our understanding of the present? Violence as we see today is a major problem of our contemporary world. Ironically, in the name of ending violence, we are indulging in more violence. And then, there’s structural violence. Violence in the name of caste, religion and regional sovereignty is also on the rise. Do you see it as a consequence of modern democracy and nation-state, or is there something more to it?

I think that societies in all parts of the world at all times have had elements of violence, but the forms, structures and intensity have varied. Many of the types of violence we see all around us (and there is too much of it) are connected with political agendas, both at the national and international levels. What we can learn from the past is that politics and violence have always been connected, that the people in power have always tried to justify their own violence, and people need to question this justification.

You discuss how Kautilya recognises war/violence as a normal part of interstate relations. But you also say he adopts a largely pragmatic approach, urging caution and calculation. In one place, you claim Kautilya’s Arthashastra was way ahead of its time. Do you think the functioning of modern nation state represents his views?

Kautilya’s ideal state was a very powerful and intrusive one. Thankfully, no state in history has been like it. Kautilya’s approach to politics was very practical. He recommends that a king should do everything necessary to maintain and increase his power, including killing others. But remember that Kautilya also says that rulers must be sensible, wise, listen to good advice, take good care of their people, and avoid fighting useless wars. That is the part that modern rulers should think about.

You say in one of your interviews that there’s a close relationship between the political agendas of political leaders and how they perceived India’s ancient history. What do you say about the Hindu right and its perception of political violence in ancient and early medieval India?

Histories that are written with political agendas are bound to distort the past.

The Mahabharata expresses a range of reactions to war, you argue, from strident justification to lament. While having a violent narrative, it could often afford to say that ahimsa is the highest dharma. How do you explain that? Does it lead us to ask the universal and perennial question about the difference between theory and praxis? Does this also summarise our everyday politics and political behaviour?

Yes, it is a question of theory and practice, of the tension between moral values and power politics. A section of ancient Indian thinkers recognised ahimsa as a positive principle, but they also recognised that a king must inflict a certain amount of violence in order to rule. The Mahabharata talks a lot about this. How does one draw the line between legitimate and illegitimate violence? Ancient Indian thinkers struggled to answer this question. But is non-violence even considered a parama dharma (highest dharma) by politicians today? I don’t think so. Political, social and religious violence seem to be increasing, and the people in power do not seem to be thinking deeply about this problem, nor are they succeeding in dealing effectively with it.

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