The Peninsula Foundation

Category: History and Heritage

  • India’s war on the Mughal Empire

    India’s war on the Mughal Empire

    The profound legacies of the Mughal Empire, forged through a remarkable fusion of Persian and Sanskrit worlds, are now under siege from a mythical vision of India’s past.

    On every 15 August since 1947, India’s Independence Day, the country’s prime minister unintentionally acknowledges the Mughals’ political legacy by delivering a nationwide address from the parapets of the mightiest symbol of Mughal power – Delhi’s massive Red Fort, built in 1648.

    ‘As is true of autocracies everywhere’, wrote David Remnick last April, ‘this Administration demands a mystical view of an imagined past.’  Although Remnick was referring to Trump’s America, something of the same sort could be said of India today. Informed by Hindutva (Hindu-centric) ideals, the country’s governing BJP party imagines a Hindu ‘golden age’ abruptly cut short when Muslim outsiders invaded and occupied an imagined sacred realm, opening a long and dreary ‘dark age’ of anti-Hindu violence and tyranny. In 2014, India’s prime minister declared that India had experienced 1,200 years of ‘slavery’ (ghulami), referring to ten centuries of Muslim rule and two of the British Raj. But whereas the British, in this view, had the good sense to go home, Muslims never left the land they had presumably violated and plundered. To say the least, India’s history has become a political minefield.

    Today’s India would be unrecognisable without the imprint the Mughals had made, and continue to make, on its society and culture. It was they who, for the first time, unified most of South Asia politically.

    Between the early 16th and the mid-18th century, towards the end of those 12 centuries of alleged ‘slavery’, most of South Asia was dominated by the Mughal Empire, a dazzling polity that, governed by a dynasty of Muslims, was for a while the world’s richest and most powerful state. Although it declined precipitously during the century before its liquidation by Queen Victoria in 1858, today’s India would be unrecognisable without the imprint the Mughals had made, and continue to make, on its society and culture. It was they who, for the first time, unified most of South Asia politically. On every 15 August since 1947, India’s Independence Day, the country’s prime minister unintentionally acknowledges the Mughals’ political legacy by delivering a nationwide address from the parapets of the mightiest symbol of Mughal power – Delhi’s massive Red Fort, built in 1648. Much of modern India’s administrative and legal infrastructure was inherited from Mughal practices and procedures. The basis of India’s currency system today, the rupee, was standardised by the Mughals. Indian dress, architecture, languages, art, and speech are all permeated by Mughal practices and sensibilities. It’s hard to imagine Indian music without the sitar, the tabla, or the sarod. Almost any Indian restaurant, whether in India or beyond, will have its tandoori chicken, kebab, biryani, or shahi paneer. One can hardly utter a sentence in a north Indian language without using words borrowed from Persian, the Mughals’ official language. India’s most popular entertainment medium – Bollywood cinema – is saturated with dialogue and songs delivered in Urdu, a language that, rooted in the vernacular tongue of the Mughal court, diffused throughout India thanks to its association with imperial patronage and the prestige of the dynasty’s principal capital, Delhi.

    Yet, despite all this, and notwithstanding the prime minister’s national address at Delhi’s Red Fort, India’s government is engaged in a determined drive to erase the Mughals from public consciousness, to the extent possible. In recent years, it has severely curtailed or even abolished the teaching of Mughal history in all schools that follow the national curriculum. Coverage of the Mughals has been entirely eliminated in Class Seven (for students about 12 years old), a little of it appears in Class Eight, none at all in Classes Nine to 11, and a shortened version survives in Class 12. In 2017, a government tourism brochure omitted any mention of the Taj Mahal, the acme of Mughal architecture and one of the world’s most glorious treasures, completed in 1653. Lawyers in Agra, the monument’s site, have even petitioned the courts to have it declared a Hindu temple.

    Although such radical measures have failed to gain traction, the national government has made more subtle efforts to dissociate the monument from the Mughals and identify it with Hindu sensibilities. For example, authorities have eliminated the initial ‘a’ from the name of one of its surrounding gardens, so that what had been Aram Bagh, the ‘Garden of Tranquility’, is now Ram Bagh, the ‘Garden of Ram’, the popular Hindu deity. This is the same deity to which India’s current government recently dedicated an extravagant temple complex on the site of the Babri Masjid, the mosque in eastern India that the Mughal Empire’s founder had built in 1528, but which a mob of Hindu activists tore down brick by brick in 1992.

    All of this prompts two related questions: how did a rich, Persian-inflected Mughal culture sink such deep roots in today’s India in the first place? And why in recent years has the memory of that culture come under siege?

    Ever since the early 13th century, a series of dynastic houses, known collectively as the Delhi sultanate, had dominated the north Indian plain. The last of these houses, the ethnically Afghan Lodis, was dislodged by one of the most vivid figures in early modern history, Zahir al-Din Babur(1483-1530). In 1526, Babur led an army of mostly free-born Turkish retainers from his base in Kabul, down through the Khyber Pass and onto the wide Indo-Gangetic plain, thereby launching what would become the Mughal Empire.

    As was true for the Delhi sultans, the new polity’s success lay in controlling access to ancient trade routes connecting Delhi and Lahore with Kabul, Balkh, and Central Asian markets, such as Samarkand and Bukhara. For centuries, cotton and other Indian goods moved northwards along this route, while horses – more than a hundred thousand annually, by Babur’s day – moved southwards to markets across South Asia. War horses had long formed the basis of power for Indian states, together with native war elephants. But the larger and stronger horses preferred by Indian rulers had to be continually imported from abroad, especially from Central Asia’s vast, long-feathered grasslands where native herds roamed freely.

    Having established a fledgling kingdom centred on Delhi, Agra and Lahore, Babur bequeathed to his descendants a durable connection to the cosmopolitan world of Timurid Central Asia, a refined aesthetic sensibility, a love of the natural world reflected in his delightful memoir, the Baburnama, and a passion for gardens. Aiming to recreate in India the refreshing paradisiac spaces that he knew from his Central Asian homeland, Babur built gardens across his realm, a practice his descendants would continue, culminating in the Taj Mahal.

    Since he died only four years after reaching India, Babur’s new kingdom merely continued many institutions of the defeated Lodis, such as giving his most trusted retainers land assignments, from which they collected taxes and maintained specified numbers of cavalry for state use. It was Babur’s son Humayun (r. 1530-40, 1555-56) who took the first steps to deepen the roots of Mughal legitimacy in Indian soil, as when he married the daughter of an Indian Muslim landholder rather than a Central Asian Turk, a practice he encouraged his nobles to follow. More importantly, while seated in a raised pavilion (jharokha) that projected from his palace’s outer walls, he would greet the morning’s rising sun and show his face to the public, just as the sun showed itself to him. This followed an ancient practice of Indian rajas that subtly conflated the image of a seated monarch with the icon of a Brahmanical deity, before whom one pays respectful devotion through mutual eye contact (darshan).

    The Mughals became further Indianised during the long reign of Humayun’s son Akbar (r. 1556-1605). Whereas for three centuries the Delhi sultans had struggled to defeat the Rajput warrior clans that dominated north India’s politics, Akbar adopted the opposite policy of absorbing them into his empire as subordinate kings. Nearly all Rajput kings accepted this arrangement, for by doing so they could retain rulership over their ancestral lands while simultaneously receiving high-ranking positions in Akbar’s newly created ruling class – the imperial mansabdars. Their new status also allowed them to operate on an all-India political stage instead of remaining provincial notables. Moreover, they were granted religious freedom, including the right to build and patronise Hindu temples. Over time, there emerged a warrior ethos common to both Mughals and Rajputs that superseded religious identities, allowing the latter to understand Muslim warriors as fellow Rajputs, and even to equate Akbar himself with the deity Rama. For their part, Akbar and his successors, as the Rajputs’ sovereign overlords, acquired regular tribute payments from subordinate dynastic houses, the service of north India’s finest cavalry, access to the sea through Rajasthani trade routes leading to Gujarat’s lucrative markets, and the incorporation of Rajput princesses in the imperial harem.

    Moreover, since Rajput women could become legal wives of the emperor, from Akbar’s time onwards, an emperor’s child by a Rajput mother was eligible for the throne. As a result, Akbar’s son Jahangir (r. 1605-23) was half Rajput, as his mother was a Rajput princess. Jahangir, in turn, married seven daughters of Rajput rulers, one of whom was the mother of his imperial successor Shah Jahan, making the latter biologically three-quarters Rajput.

    This last point proved especially consequential. As more Rajput states submitted to Mughal overlordship, the imperial court swelled into a huge, multi-ethnic and women-centred world in which the Rajput element steadily gained influence over other ethnicities. Moreover, since Rajput women could become legal wives of the emperor, from Akbar’s time onwards, an emperor’s child by a Rajput mother was eligible for the throne. As a result, Akbar’s son Jahangir (r. 1605-23) was half Rajput, as his mother was a Rajput princess. Jahangir, in turn, married seven daughters of Rajput rulers, one of whom was the mother of his imperial successor Shah Jahan, making the latter biologically three-quarters Rajput.

    Inevitably, Rajput mothers in the imperial harem imparted their culture to their offspring, who were raised in the harem world. This allowed Indian sensibilities and values to seep deeply into Mughal imperial culture, reflected in imperial art, architecture, language, and cuisine. At the same time, the absorption of Rajput cavalry in the imperial system allowed native military practices to diffuse throughout the empire’s military culture.

    The Mughals engaged with Sanskrit literary traditions and welcomed Brahmin and Jain scholars to their courts. From the 1580s on, Akbar sponsored Persian translations of the great Sanskrit epics Mahabharata and Ramayana, effectively accommodating Indian thought to Mughal notions of statecraft.

    Like all authentically Indian emperors, moreover, the Mughals engaged with Sanskrit literary traditions and welcomed Brahmin and Jain scholars to their courts. From the 1580s on, Akbar sponsored Persian translations of the great Sanskrit epics Mahabharata and Ramayana, effectively accommodating Indian thought to Mughal notions of statecraft. Whereas the Sanskrit Mahabharata stressed cosmic and social order (dharma), its Persian translation stressed the proper virtues of the king. Similarly, the Sanskrit Ramayana was subtly refashioned into a meditation on Mughal sovereignty, while the epic’s hero, Rama, was associated with Akbar himself, as though the emperor were an avatar of Vishnu.

    Beginning with Akbar, the Mughals also fostered cultural fusions in the domains of medicine and astronomy.  By the mid-17th century, the Mughals’ Greco-Arab (Yunani) medical tradition had become thoroughly Indianised, as Indo-Persian scholars engaged with Indian (Ayurvedic) works on pharmacology and the use of native Indian plants.

    Similarly, from the late 16th century on, Persian-Sanskrit dictionaries allowed Sanskrit scholars to absorb Arabo-Persian ideas that had derived from ancient Greek understandings of the uniformity of nature and laws of motion. That knowledge, together with astronomical tables patronised by Shah Jahan that enabled the prediction of planetary movements, then spread among the Mughal-Rajput ruling class at large.

    The most telling indication of the public’s acceptance of the Mughals as authentically Indian is that in both the 18th and 19th centuries, when the empire faced existential threats from outside, native forces rallied around the Mughal emperor as the country’s sole legitimate sovereign. In 1739, the Persian warlord Nadir Shah invaded India, routed a much larger Mughal army, sacked Delhi, and marched back to Iran with enormous loot, including the symbolically charged Peacock Throne. At this moment, the Marathas, who for decades had fiercely resisted the imposition of Mughal hegemony over the Indian peninsula, realised that the Mughals represented the ultimate symbol of Indian sovereignty and must be preserved at all costs. The Marathas’ chief minister Baji Rao (1700-40) even proposed that all of north India’s political stakeholders form a confederation to support and defend the weakened Mughal dynasty from foreign invaders.

    Similarly, by the mid-19th century, the English East India Company had acquired de facto control over much of the subcontinent, while the reigning Mughal ruler, Bahadur II (r. 1837-57), had been reduced to a virtual prisoner in Delhi’s Red Fort, an emperor in name only. But in 1857, a rebellion broke out when a disaffected detachment of the Company’s own Indian troops massacred their English officers in the north Indian cantonment of Meerut. Seeking support for what they hoped would become an India-wide rebellion, the mutineers then galloped down to Delhi and enthusiastically rallied around a rather bewildered Bahadur II.  Notwithstanding his own and his empire’s decrepit condition, to the rebels, this feeble remnant of the house of Babur still represented India’s legitimate sovereign.

    Through the Mughals’ twilight years, spanning the two incidents mentioned above, one emperor was especially revered in public memory – ‘Alamgir (r. 1658-1707), widely known today by his princely name, Aurangzeb. Upon his death, large and reverential crowds watched his coffin move 75 miles across the Deccan plateau to Khuldabad, a saintly cemetery in present-day Maharashtra. There, the emperor’s body was placed, at his own request, in a humble gravesite open to the sky, quite unlike the imposing monuments built to glorify the memory of his dynastic predecessors (excepting Babur). That simple tomb soon became an object of intense popular devotion. For years, crowds thronged his gravesite, beseeching ‘Alamgir’s intercession with the unseen world, for his saintly charisma (baraka) was believed to cling to his gravesite, just as in life it had clung to his person. For, during his lifetime, the emperor was popularly known as ‘Alamgir zinda-pir, or ‘Alamgir, the living saint’, one whose invisible powers could work magic.

    ‘Alamgir’s status as a saintly monarch continued to grow after his death in 1707. Already in 1709, Bhimsen Saksena, a former imperial official, praised ‘Alamgir for his pious character and his ability to mobilise supernatural power in the empire’s cause. In 1730, another retired noble, Ishwar Das Nagar, credited ‘Alamgir for the exceptional peace, security, and justice that had characterised his long reign. Nagar’s account followed a spate of histories that praised the emperor as a dedicated, even heroic administrator, and his half-century reign as a ‘golden age’ of governmental efficiency.

    Further contributing to ‘Alamgir’s cult was the appearance of hundreds of images depicting the emperor engaged in administration, military activity, or religious devotion. Reflecting the extent of the ‘Alamgir cult, many of these post-1707 paintings were produced not at the imperial court but in north India’s Hindu courts, including those of the Mughals’ former enemies. No other Mughal emperor was so venerated, and for so long a period, as ‘Alamgir.

    Over time, however, Indians gradually came to see the Mughal period – and especially ‘Alamgir’s reign – in an increasingly negative light. As the East India Company attained control over South Asia in the late 18th century, British administrators, being unable as foreigners to deploy a nativist rationale to justify their rule, cited the efficiency, justice, peace and stability that they had brought to their Indian colony. And because the Mughals had immediately preceded the advent of Company rule, those rulers were necessarily construed as having been inefficient and unjust despots in a war-torn and unstable land. The colonial understanding of Muslims and Hindus as homogeneous and mutually antagonistic communities also facilitated aligning colonial policies with the old Roman strategy of divide et impera. More perniciously, the colonial view of the Mughals as alien ‘Mahomedans’ who had oppressed a mainly non-Muslim population reinforced the notion of a native Hindu ‘self’ and a non-native Muslim ‘other’ – constructions that would bear bitter fruit.

    Although originating from within the colonial regime, such ideas gradually percolated into the public domain as the 19th century progressed and Indians became increasingly absorbed in the Raj’s educational and administrative institutions. It was not until the 1880s, with the first stirrings of Indian nationalist sentiment, however, that such colonial tropes became widely politicised. As the possibility of an independent nation took root, Indian nationalists began to look to their own past for models that might inspire and mobilise mass support for their cause. The writing of history soon became a political endeavour, ultimately degenerating into a black-and-white morality play that clearly distinguished heroes from villains. In short, India’s precolonial past became a screen onto which many – though not all – Hindu nationalists projected the tropes of the Hindu self and the Muslim other.

    Between 1912 and 1924, one of India’s most esteemed historians, Jadunath Sarkar, published his five-volume History of Aurangzib, the princely name of ‘Alamgir, who would soon become the most controversial – and ultimately the most hated – ruler of the Mughal dynasty. Sarkar’s study was so detailed, so thoroughly researched, and so authoritative that, in the century following its publication, no other historian even attempted a thorough survey of ‘Alamgir’s reign.

    Importantly, Sarkar wrote against the backdrop of the Great War and a nationalist movement that was just then reaching a fever pitch. In 1905, Lord Curzon, the Viceroy for India, had partitioned Sarkar’s native province of Bengal in half, a cynical divide-and-rule measure that ‘awarded’ Bengali Muslims with their own Muslim-majority province of eastern Bengal. The very next year, there appeared the All-India Muslim League, a political party committed to protecting the interests of India’s Muslims. Meanwhile, the partition of Bengal had provoked a furious protest by Bengali Hindus, leading to India-wide boycotts against British-made goods. Ultimately, the government gave in to Hindu demands and, in 1911, annulled the partition, which only intensified fear and anxiety within India’s Muslim minority community.

    It was in this highly charged political atmosphere that Sarkar worked on his biography of ‘Alamgir. With each successive volume of his study, the emperor was portrayed in darker colours, as were Muslims generally. In the end, Sarkar blamed ‘Alamgir for destroying Hindu schools and temples, thereby depriving Hindus of the ‘light of knowledge’ and the ‘consolations of religion’, and for exposing Hindus to ‘constant public humiliation and political disabilities’. Writing amid the gathering agitation for an independent Indian nation, Sarkar maintained that ‘no fusion between the two classes [Hindus and Muslims] was possible’, adding that while a Muslim might feel that he was in India, he could not feel of India, and that ‘Alamgir ‘deliberately undid the beginnings of a national and rational policy which Akbar [had] set on foot.’

    Perhaps more than any other factor, Sarkar’s negative assessment of ‘Alamgir has shaped how millions have thought about that emperor’s place in Indian history. Since the publication of History of Aurangzib, professional historians have generally shied away from writing about the emperor, as though he were politically radioactive. This, in turn, opened up space in India’s popular culture for demagogues to demonise the Mughal emperor. For millions today, ‘Alamgir is the principal villain in a rogues’ gallery of premodern Indo-Muslim rulers, a bigoted fanatic who allegedly ruined the communal harmony established by Akbar and set India on a headlong course that, many believe, in 1947, culminated in the creation of a separate Muslim state, Pakistan. In today’s vast, anything-goes blogosphere, in social media posts, and in movie theatres, he has been reduced to a cardboard cutout, a grotesque caricature serving as a historical punching bag. A recent example is the film Chhaava, a Bollywood blockbuster that was released on February 14, 2025 and has since rocketed to superstar status. Among films in only their sixth week since release, already by late March, it had grossed the second-largest earnings in Indian cinema history.

    Loosely based on a Marathi novel of the same title, Chhaava purports to tell the story of a pivotal moment in ‘Alamgir’s 25-year campaign to conquer the undefeated states of the Deccan plateau. These included two venerable sultanates, Bijapur and Golkonda, and the newly formed Maratha kingdom, launched in 1674 by an intrepid chieftain and the Mughals’ arch-enemy, Shivaji (r. 1674-80). The film concerns the reign of Shivaji’s elder son and ruling successor, Sambhaji (r. 1680-89), his struggles with Mughal armies, and finally his capture, torture, and execution at ‘Alamgir’s order in 1689.

    The film is not subtle. With its non-stop violence, gratuitous blood and gore, overwrought plot, and black-and-white worldview, the movie turns the contest between Sambhaji and ‘Alamgir into a cartoonish spectacle, like a Marvel Comics struggle between Spiderman and Doctor Doom. Whereas Sambhaji single-handedly vanquishes an entire Mughal army, ‘Alamgir is pure, menacing evil. Mughal armies display over-the-top brutality toward civilians: innocent Indians are hanged from trees, women are sexually assaulted, a shepherdess is burned to death, and so forth.

    In reality, ‘Alamgir is not known to have plundered Indian villages or attacked civilians (unlike the Marathas themselves, whose raids in Bengal alone caused the deaths of some 400,000 civilians in the 1740s). On the other hand, contemporary sources record Sambhaji’s administrative mismanagement, his abandonment by leading Maratha officers inherited from his father reign, his weakness for alcohol and merry-making, and how, instead of resisting Mughal forces sent to capture him, he hid in a hole in his minister’s house, from which he was dragged by his long hair before being taken to ‘Alamgir.

    Historical accuracy is not Chhaava’s strength, nor its purpose. More important are its consequences. Within weeks of its release, the film whipped up public fury against ‘Alamgir and the Mughals. In one venue where the movie was showing, a viewer wearing medieval warrior attire rode into the theatre on horseback; in another, a viewer became so frenzied during the film’s protracted scene of Sambhaji’s torture that he leapt to the stage and began tearing the screen apart.

    Politicians swiftly joined the fray. In early March, a member of India’s ruling BJP party demanded that ‘Alamgir’s grave be removed from Maharashtra, the heartland of the Maratha kingdom. On 16 March, another party member went further, demanding that the emperor’s tomb be bulldozed. The next day, a riot broke out in Nagpur, headquarters for the far-right Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh, India’s paramilitary Hindu supremacist organisation. It began when around 100 activists who supported bulldozing ‘Alamgir’s grave burned an effigy of the emperor. In response, a group of the city’s Muslims staged a counter-protest, culminating in violence, personal injuries, the destruction of property, and many arrests. The fevered demand for bulldozing ‘Alamgir’s final resting place, however, is deeply ironic. In 1707, Sambhaji’s son and eventual successor to the Maratha throne, Shahu, travelled 75 miles on foot to pay his pious respects to ‘Alamgir’s tomb.

    In the end, the furore over ‘Alamgir’s gravesite illustrates the temptation to adjust the historical past to conform to present-day political priorities. Indicating the Indian government’s support for Chhaava’s version of history, in late March, India’s governing party scheduled a special screening of the film in New Delhi’s Parliament building for the prime minister, Cabinet ministers, and members of parliament.

    Nor is it only the historical past that is being adjusted to accord with present-day imagination. So is territory. In 2015, the Indian government officially renamed New Delhi’s Aurangzeb Road – so-named when the British had established the city – after a former Indian president. Eight years later, the city of Aurangabad, which Prince Aurangzeb named for himself while governor of the Deccan in 1653, was renamed Sambhaji Nagar, honouring the man the emperor had executed in 1689.

    Such measures align with the government’s broader agenda to scrub from Indian maps place names associated with the Mughals or Islam and replace them with names bearing Hindu associations, or simply to Sanskritise place-names containing Arabic or Persian lexical elements. Examples include: Mustafabad to Saraswati Nagar (2016), Allahabad to Prayagraj (2018), Hoshangabad to Narmadapuram (2021), Ahmednagar to Ahilyanagar (2023), and Karimgunj to Sribhumi (2024). Many more such changes have been proposed – at least 14 in the state of Uttar Pradesh alone – but not yet officially authorised.

    It is said that the past is a foreign country. Truly, one can never fully enter the mindset of earlier generations. But if history is not carefully reconstructed using contemporary evidence and logical reasoning, and if it is not responsibly presented to the public, we risk forever living with a ‘mystical view of an imagined past’ with all its attendant dangers, as Remnick warns.

     

    This essay was published earlier on www.engelsbergideas.com

    Feature Image Credit: www.engelsbergideas.com

     

  • The Philippines’ History Curriculum: Origins and Repercussions

    The Philippines’ History Curriculum: Origins and Repercussions

    Background

    The Philippines, a twice-colonized archipelago that achieved its complete independence in 1946, is a member of the ASEAN and an essential player in the geopolitics of the Southeast Asia region. Its status is owed mainly to its rapidly growing economy, of which the services industry is the most significant contributor, comprising 61% of its Gross Domestic Product (GDP) (Bajpai, 2022). Services refer to various products – for example, business outsourcing, tourism, and the export of skilled workers, healthcare workers, and labourers in other industries. In recent years, a growing demand for qualified professionals has grown as the economy has grown, thus necessitating more robust educational systems (Bajpai, 2022). Although the Philippines has a high literacy rate, hovering at around 97%, the efficacy of its educational system is often called into question (“Literacy Rate and Educational Attainment”, 2020). Administration oversight, infrastructural deficiencies, and pervasive corruption in the government that seeps into the entities responsible for educational reform are significant issues that legitimize these doubts (Palatino, 2023). However, reforming the current flaws in the system requires an understanding of the basic underlying structure of the country’s educational system as it is today. This fundamental understanding can help clarify specific political trends in the status quo and highlight the importance of proper historical education in developing a nation. Despite its ubiquity in nearly every curriculum, the study of history as a crucial part of the education system is often not prioritized, leading to an underdeveloped understanding of the society’s culture and previous struggles with colonial exploitation. Though it is present in the Philippines’ education today, it continues to change because of its historically dynamic demographic and political atmosphere.

    Origins of the Education System 

    To begin with, the educational system, and especially the modes of linguistic and history education in the country, have been heavily influenced by the major powers that occupied it – namely, the Spanish Empire and the United States. The impact of these periods of colonization can be seen most significantly in the historical education and consciousness of the general population, as well as the propagation of the English language. The Philippines possesses a great deal of linguistic diversity, especially among indigenous groups – an estimated 170 distinct languages in the country today (Postan, 2020). However, even in pre-colonial times – typically considered by historians to be the years before 1521 – the most common language in the country was Old Tagalog, and other indigenous languages are still spoken today (Stevens, 1999). Records suggest that the Spanish did not forcefully erase indigenous languages spoken in the country. However, they did conduct business and educational institutions in Spanish, leading to the language being used almost exclusively amongst the upper classes – the colonizers, business people in the country, and other influential figures in the empire. Though there were attempts to conduct education in Castilian Spanish, priests and friars responsible for teaching the locals preferred to do so in local languages as it was a more effective form of proselytization. This cemented the reputation of Spanish as a language for the elite, as the language was almost exclusively limited to those chosen to attend prestigious institutions or government missions that operated entirely in Spanish (Gonzales, 2017). In terms of popularising education to expose a broader audience to Christianity, the Spanish also established a compulsory elementary education system. However, restrictions existed based on social class and gender (Musa & Ziatdinov, 2012). Because of this, although the influence of Spanish on local languages can be seen through the borrowing of certain words, indigenous and regional languages were not supplanted to a large extent, though their scripts were Latinised in some instances to make matters more convenient for the Spanish (Gonzales, 2017). However, the introduction of Catholicism to a large segment of the population and a more organized educational system are aspects of Spanish rule that remain in Philippine society today, as do the negative ramifications of the social stratification that was a significant element of its occupation (Herrera, 2015).

    Uncle Sam, loaded with implements of modern civilization, uses the Philippines as a stepping-stone to get across the Pacific to China (represented by a small man with open arms), who excitedly awaits Sam’s arrival. With the expansionist policy gaining greater traction, the possibility for more imperialistic missions (including to conflict-ridden China) seemed strong. The cartoon might be arguing that such endeavours are worthwhile, bringing education, technological, and other civilizing tools to a desperate people. On the other hand, it could be read as sarcastically commenting on America’s new propensity to “step” on others. “AND, AFTER ALL, THE PHILIPPINES ARE ONLY THE STEPPING-STONE TO CHINA,” in Judge Magazine, 1900 or 1902. Wikimedia.

    In contrast, the American occupation following Spain’s defeat in the Spanish-American War in 1898 significantly changed the country’s linguistic patterns and revolutionized the education system. Upon arriving in the country, the Americans decided to create a public school system in the country, where every student could study for free. However, the medium of instruction was in English, given that they brought teachers from the United States (Casambre, 1982). This differed from the Spanish system in that social class and gender did not influence students’ access to education to the same extent. Furthermore, the Americans brought their own material to the country due to a lack of school textbooks. As the number of schools in the country and the pedagogical influence of American teachers increased, the perception of the Americans’ role as colonizers ultimately changed. Education became a tool to exert cultural influence, leading to the propagation of American ideals like capitalism, in addition to subverting separatist tendencies that were cropping up in the country as one colonizer was replaced by another. It also led to the suppression of knowledge concerning the US’ exploitation of the nation.  Ultimately, the colonizers’ influence on the linguistic and educational landscape of the nation manifests itself in the general population’s understanding of their country’s history.

    The Current History Curriculum

    The social studies curriculum in the Philippines, called Araling Panlipunan (AP), is an interdisciplinary course that combines topics of economics and governance with history, primarily post-colonial history (“K to 12 Gabay Pangkurikulum”, 2016). The topic of World War II takes up nearly 50% of the course, while other aspects of indigenous and pre-colonial history are included to a limited extent (Candelaria, 2021). This act of prioritization is a colonial holdover. Although the Philippines indubitably played a crucial role in the Pacific Theatre during WW II, its massive presence in the AP course signals the nation’s continued alliance with the US and reinforces a mentality amongst the general public that favours it. This bias occurs as a singular American perspective is promoted by the course, wherein the actions of other countries against the Philippines are highlighted. At the same time, the exploitation of the Philippines by the Spanish and Americans is not as widely discussed. For example, although the atrocities committed by the Japanese during World War II are taught extensively as part of the curriculum, the American actions during the Philippine-American War (1899-1902), during which the Americans burned and pillaged entire villages, are not emphasized (Clem, 2016). Furthermore, it leads to the sidelining of historical events that have created the political situation in the country today, such as the issue of the current president being related to the former dictator, Ferdinand Marcos.

    As the course is conducted chronologically, discussions of topics such as the Marcos Regime are left up to teachers’ discretion due to the subject’s controversial nature, given that the dictator’s son is the current president (Santos, 2022). This means that as much or as little time can be spent on it is as decided. Because of the American influence, even citizens who are taught about the atrocities that occurred during the dictatorship are not informed of the support provided to the Marcos dictatorship by the US government. During his presidency, which lasted from 1965 to 1986, the Philippines received significant economic aid from the US government in exchange for the continuation of its military presence in the country, which proved helpful to the US during the Vietnam War as it was able to utilize its bases in Subic Bay and Clark air base(Hawes, 1986). As a result of the necessity of these bases, a 1979 amendment to the 1947 Military Bases Agreement was signed, which increased the US’ fiscal contributions to security assistance. To further support this military objective, the Carter and Reagan administrations showed their diplomatic support to Marcos by visiting the Philippines and inviting him to Washington.

    Additionally, when Marcos was ousted from power in 1986 by the People Power Revolution, he spent his exile in ‘Hawaii’, in the US (Southerl, 1986). Therefore, while the US is credited for introducing democratic principles to the country through its program for expanding education while occupying the archipelago, it also played a significant role in supporting a despotic government that is not as widely acknowledged. Because of this, the Filipino perception of and relationship with the US has been heavily influenced by a lack of awareness amongst the general public about its involvement in a massively corrupt administration.

    Significant Developments 

    Despite the importance of a robust historical education in improving the public’s awareness of their own culture and geopolitical relationships, history as a subject has been transformed into a political tool in the Philippines, twisted when it can be useful and neglected when it does not support an agenda. Various bills passed in the House of Representatives (the lower house of parliament in the Philippines, below the Senate), as well as decisions taken by the Department of Education, have diminished the significance of history in the overall school curriculum and reinforced an American perspective in the historical content that continues to be taught. Department of Education Order 20, signed in 2014, removed Philippines History as a separate subject in high school (Ignacio, 2019). The argument for this decision was that Philippines History would be integrated within the broader AP social studies curriculum under different units, such as the Southeast Asian political landscape. However, educators opposing the abolition of Philippine History as a separate subject state that due to fewer contact hours being allocated for AP in total compared to English, maths, and science, it is unlikely that Philippine history can be discussed in adequate depth, considering the other social science topics mandated by the AP curriculum. In addition, House Bill 9850, which was passed in 2021, requires that no less than 50% of the subject of Philippine history centres around World War II (Candelaria, 2021). The bill’s primary concerns mention that it prioritizes the war over other formative conflicts in the nation’s history, such as the Philippine Revolution against Spain or the Philippine-American War. Furthermore, it requires modifying or reducing discussions surrounding other vital events in the Philippines, such as agrarian reforms and more recent developments like the conflict in Mindanao.

    Both of these policies face significant opposition. For example, a Change.org petition demanding the return of the subject of Philippine history in high schools has garnered tens of thousands of signatures. At the same time, numerous historical experts and teachers have spoken against HB 9850 (Ignacio, 2018). Despite this resistance from academics and teaching professionals, it is unlikely that history will be prioritized unless the general public also learns to inform itself. Around 73% of the total population (approximately 85.16 million people) have access to the internet, of which over 90% are on social media (Kemp, 2023). Because of the large working population in the country, social media companies like Facebook have set up offices there. Programs that offered data-free usage in 2013 have made the Philippines a huge market for Facebook, and many Filipinos trust the news they find on the website more than some mainstream media sources (Quitzon, 2021). Even though internet access is relatively widespread, signifying that information is readily available to the average Filipino, social media, especially Facebook, often functions as a fertile breeding ground for misinformation.

    Repercussions of the History Curriculum

    In recent years, misinformation has become an important political tool to propagate ignorance and manipulate historical and current events to promote specific agendas. The most relevant example was the mass historical revisionism campaign leading to the 2022 general elections (Quitzon, 2021). Given that Bongbong Marcos, Ferdinand Marcos’ son, was running for president alongside vice presidential candidate Sara Duterte (former president Rodrigo Duterte’s daughter), the campaign focused on changing the public perception of both families and their period of rule. Preceding the elections, social media trolls and supporters of the campaign spread videos, doctored images, and fake news that minimized the atrocities and scale of theft that occurred throughout the Marcos regime and the Duterte administration, instead highlighting and exaggerating the perceived benefits they brought to the country. The prioritization of these political agendas is reflected in the history curriculum, as it does not sufficiently cover critical areas of Philippine history that have directly led to the political situation of today and the pre-colonial era that is an inseparable part of Filipino culture.

    Recommended Policy Measures 

    However, another by-product of this absence of consciousness is that the general public is desensitized to poor governance and neocolonialism as their education systems and news sources constantly feed them biased and inaccurate information about the history of their own country and its relationship to others. When dictators are portrayed as good rulers and previous colonizers are portrayed as historical allies, it results in a population that unknowingly votes against its interests as they are unaware of the past events that have shaped the current political atmosphere and the various deficiencies in the system. Considering that these political campaigns rely on the general public not having a solid understanding of historical events, especially those about the martial law era, it is unlikely that politicians will take meaningful steps to improve historical education in the country since they benefit from citizens lacking awareness. As such, the onus must, unfortunately, be placed on the general public to educate themselves on good citizenship and exercise their right to vote at the grassroots level responsibly so that future local politicians and members of parliament may at least be able to encourage the study of history in the government. Additionally, teaching students how to use the internet to conduct reliable research is imperative to reduce misinformation so they can counter the misinformation they find online.

    Conclusion

    In conclusion, the Philippine education system has been shaped by the periods of colonization the country has experienced. This has led to a history curriculum favouring the American perspective and thus disadvantages crucial elements of local history. The consequences of the lack of awareness this has caused in the general public are manifold: it has made them more susceptible to misinformation and historical revisionism. It has worked to the advantage of politicians who take advantage of it. Nevertheless, the Philippines can still reverse this trend by utilizing its high literacy rates and social media presence to promote reliable historical education. They can also push for better historical education policies through petitions and appeals to local government agencies and Senate committees related to education – such as the National Commission for Culture and the Arts (NCCA), the Committee on Basic Education and Culture, and the Committee on Education, Arts and Culture – amongst others (Ignacio, 2018). Overall, there are many deficiencies in the current history education system in the Philippines, but they still coexist with the potential for change. Citizens have the power to advocate and must continue using it to usher forth a more well-informed society and nation.

     

    References

    Bajpai, Prableen. “Emerging Markets: Analyzing the Philippines’s GDP.” Investopedia, 12 July 2023, www.investopedia.com/articles/investing/091815/emerging-markets-analyzing-philippines-gdp.asp#:~:text=The%20country.

    Casambre, Napoleon. The Impact of American Education in the Philippines. Educational Perspectives, scholarspace.manoa.hawaii.edu/server/api/core/bitstreams/f3bbc11f-f582-4b73-8b84-76cfd27a6f77/content#:~:text=Under%20the%20Americans%2C%20English%20was.

    Clem, Andrew. “The Filipino Genocide.” Series II, vol. 21, 2016, p. 6, scholarcommons.scu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1138&context=historical-perspectives.

    Constantino, Renato. “The Miseducation of the Filipino.” Journal of Contemporary Asia, vol. 1, no. 1, 1970, eaop.ucsd.edu/198/group-identity/THE%20MISEDUCATION%20OF%20THE%20FILIPINO.pdf.

    Department of Education. K To12 Gabay Pangkurikulum. 2016, www.deped.gov.ph/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/AP-CG.pdf.

    “Education Mass Media | Philippine Statistics Authority | Republic of the Philippines.” Psa.gov.ph, 28 Dec. 2019, psa.gov.ph/statistics/education-mass-media.

    Gonzales, Wilkinson Daniel Wong. “Language Contact in the Philippines.” Language Ecology, vol. 1, no. 2, Dec. 2017, pp. 185–212, https://doi.org/10.1075/le.1.2.04gon.

    Hawes, Gary. “United States Support for the Marcos Administration and the Pressures That Made for Change.” Contemporary Southeast Asia, vol. 8, no. 1, 1986, pp. 18–36, www.jstor.org/stable/25797880.

    Herrera, Dana. “The Philippines: An Overview of the Colonial Era.” Association for Asian Studies, vol. 20, no. 1, 2015, www.asianstudies.org/publications/eaa/archives/the-philippines-an-overview-of-the-colonial-era/.

    Ignacio, Jamaico D. “[OPINION] The Slow Death of Philippine History in High School.” RAPPLER, 26 Oct. 2019, www.rappler.com/voices/ispeak/243058-opinion-slow-death-philippine-history-high-school/.

    —. “We Seek the Return of ‘Philippine History’ in Junior High School and Senior High School.” Change.org, 19 July 2018, www.change.org/p/we-seek-the-return-of-philippine-history-in-junior-high-school-and-senior-high-school.

    John Lee Candelaria. “[OPINION] The Dangers of a World War II-Centered Philippine History Subject.” RAPPLER, 20 Sept. 2021, www.rappler.com/voices/imho/opinion-dangers-world-war-2-centered-philippine-history-subject/.

    Kemp, Simon. “Digital 2023: The Philippines.” DataReportal – Global Digital Insights, 9 Feb. 2023, datareportal.com/reports/digital-2023-philippines#:~:text=Internet%20use%20in%20the%20Philippines.

    Musa, Sajid, and Rushan Ziatdinov. “Features and Historical Aspects of the Philippines Educational System.” European Journal of Contemporary Education, vol. 2, no. 2, Dec. 2012, pp. 155–76, https://doi.org/10.13187/ejced.2012.2.155.

    Quitzon, Japhet. “Social Media Misinformation and the 2022 Philippine Elections.” Center for Strategic & International Studies, 22 Nov. 2021, www.csis.org/blogs/new-perspectives-asia/social-media-misinformation-and-2022-philippine-elections.

    Santos, Franz Jan. “How Philippine Education Contributed to the Return of the Marcoses.” Thediplomat.com, 23 May 2022, thediplomat.com/2022/05/how-philippine-education-contributed-to-the-return-of-the-marcoses/.

    Southerl, Daniel. “A Fatigued Marcos Arrives in Hawaii.” Washington Post, 27 Feb. 1986, www.washingtonpost.com/archive/politics/1986/02/27/a-fatigued-marcos-arrives-in-hawaii/af0d6170-6f42-41cc-aee8-782d4c9626b9/.

    Stevens, J. Nicole. “The History of the Filipino Languages.” Linguistics.byu.edu, 30 June 1999, linguistics.byu.edu/classes/Ling450ch/reports/filipino.html.

    Stout, Aaron P. The Purpose and Practice of History Education: Can a Humanist Approach to Teaching History Facilitate Citizenship Education? 2019, core.ac.uk/download/pdf/275887751.pdf.

    Feature Image Credit: actforum-online.medium.com Filipino Education and the Legacies of American Colonial Rule – Picture from ‘Puck’ Magazine

  • The myth of Magna Carta: The struggle still goes on

    The myth of Magna Carta: The struggle still goes on

    The rise of democratic, elected Parliaments in England and Scotland just 50 years after the Magna Carta is not a coincidence but a consequence of that demand to share power. It is from the Magna Carta that the English writ of habeas corpus evolved, safeguarding individuals and their freedoms against unjust and unlawful imprisonment with the right to appeal.

    We now take our liberties and rights for granted, and the way of life it guarantees us is inherent. But what we now have has come after a long evolution process, and often they flowed out of something else quite unintended. The Magna Carta is a case in point. The English-speaking world recently celebrated over 800 years of the Magna Carta or Great Charter, which is synonymous with fundamental rights and the rule of law that are the cornerstones of modern democracy. Much of the world believes the Magna Carta came out of an eruption of a long-suppressed yearning among ordinary people for protection against the monarch and nobility. But it is not so.

    The Magna Carta was thus not a grand demand for equality, basic freedoms or the rule of law, but just a narrow demand for restricting the ruler’s powers, to ring-fence the interests of the elite.

     

    It came out of an intra-elite struggle between 40 barons and their ruler. England’s King John had emptied the royal treasuries in a fruitless war with France, and the barons were unwilling to meet his demands for higher taxes. The consequence was the Magna Carta — to protect the barons from the King’s demands. The demand to be judged by their peers was another protection. It was not meant for ordinary people, but only for barons. The Magna Carta was thus not a grand demand for equality, basic freedoms or the rule of law, but just a narrow demand for restricting the ruler’s powers, to ring-fence the interests of the elite.

    But the Magna Carta’s myth endured and was invoked whenever and wherever people struggled against injustice and freedom. Mahatma Gandhi invoked it in South Africa when he fought for racial equality, and emancipators and freedom fighters like Nelson Mandela, Jawaharlal Nehru, Ho Chi Minh, Fidel Castro and Martin Luther King Jr invoked it when they were being tried for sedition by oppressive regimes. Like the English barons, they too were arguing for limiting the oppressive and unjust powers of rulers, but not just for themselves and their peers, but for all their peoples. The story of modern democracy is about the long journey from the rights of a few to the rights of all.

    Another myth that endures is that the twin notions of democracy and the rule of law somehow originated with the Magna Carta. The fact is that the King rejected the Magna Carta soon after it was presented to him. But John avoided the consequences of the barons’ indignation by dying and thereby perpetuating the myth.

    The first democracies long preceded the 1215 Magna Carta. As early as the sixth century BC several “independent republics” existed in India as sanghas and ganas. Their main characteristics were a raja, elected or hereditary, and a deliberative assembly. These assemblies met regularly and passed laws pertaining to finances, administration and justice. The raja and other officials obeyed the decisions of these assemblies. While these assemblies mostly comprised the nobility and landowners, in some cases they included all free men. But the Brahminical system prevailed, in that the monarch always had to be a Kshatriya. While Licchavis, who held sway over the Kathmandu Valley in today’s Nepal and a major part of northern Bihar, were governed by an assembly of about 7,000 rajas, who in turn were the heads of all major families, others like the Shakyas, the clan to which Gautama Buddha belonged, had assemblies open to all people, rich or poor, and noble or common.

    Socrates and his pupil, Plato, deliberated and expounded on the role of a citizen within a community and laid down the foundations of the political philosophy that flourished in Athens and spread to most of the world in the next two and a half millennia.

    The greatest contribution to the evolution of democracy as a philosophy was in Athens, where great philosophers like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle lit up public discourse with their brilliance and original thinking. Socrates and his pupil, Plato, deliberated and expounded on the role of a citizen within a community and laid down the foundations of the political philosophy that flourished in Athens and spread to most of the world in the next two and a half millennia. Aristotle, who counted among his students Alexander the Great, dwelt more on systems of government and who first qualified liberty as the fundamental principle of democracy.

    Aristotle wrote in Politics: “Now a fundamental principle of the democratic form of constitution is liberty — that is what is usually asserted, implying that only under this constitution do men participate in liberty, for they assert this as the aim of every democracy. But one factor of liberty is to govern and be governed in turn; for the popular principle of justice is to have equality according to number, not worth, and if this is the principle of justice prevailing, the multitude must of necessity be sovereign and the decision of the majority must be final and must constitute justice, for they say that each citizen must have an equal share; so it results that in democracies the poor are more powerful than the rich, because there are more of them, and whatever is decided by the majority is sovereign.”

    This principle that “whatever is decided by the majority is sovereign” has always had to contend with the rights of individuals. In the US, created after a great debate among the founding fathers as a democracy, it was by majority will that slavery flourished till the Civil War. It took another century before equal rights for black people became the majority will. This constant struggle for individual rights against the will of the collective has been the central story of the evolution of the modern democratic state.  Free India, by contrast, provided for all these rights and liberties from the beginning in its Constitution. The Magna Carta, because it sought to limit the powers of the ruler, perhaps still has a place in our hearts and minds. To most citizens in democratic states, our life is also a constant struggle against the assertion of collective will to trample individual liberties or the rights of smaller groups.

    This principle that “whatever is decided by the majority is sovereign” has always had to contend with the rights of individuals.

    The rise of democratic, elected Parliaments in England and Scotland just 50 years after the Magna Carta is not a coincidence but a consequence of that demand to share power. It is from the Magna Carta that the English writ of habeas corpus evolved, safeguarding individuals and their freedoms against unjust and unlawful imprisonment with the right to appeal. It is from this emergence of petitioning for the production of the body that Parliaments in due course became to be increasingly used as a forum to address all the concerns and grievances of ordinary people.

    Thus, whatever be Magna Carta’s first intent, its consequences greatly expanded over centuries into a charter, which guarantees individual liberties, equality and justice to all, irrespective of race, religion and class. But that struggle is far from over. It goes on, and only its forms change as human values and means change.

    This article was published earlier in the Asian Age.

    Feature Image Credit: Britannica

     

  • Colonial exploitation included heritage theft, and that continues to this day

    Colonial exploitation included heritage theft, and that continues to this day

    Museums and private collectors in the West have prided themselves on the vast collections of heritage treasures, antiquities, and archaeological and epigraphic treasures from across the world. In truth, these are stolen treasures from the non-western world enabled by colonialism and imperialism. It is time the victim nations work towards global policies to ensure these treasures are returned to their original owners. This is truly a massive public policy challenge in global governance and for a fair, equitable, multi-polar world. Professor M A Kalam looks at the continuing theft of India’s heritage treasures.

     

     

     

    The whole idea of establishing a colony was to exploit the resources there and enrich the home coffers. And all colonials—irrespective of whether they were British, Danes, Dutch, Italians, Belgians, Portuguese, Spanish, or American—indulged in this exercise and over a period turned it into a fine art. As ill luck would have it, a host of countries in many parts of the world were less developed than these colonials, particularly in terms of technology, but were very rich and well-endowed in terms of resources of various kinds. Though they possessed natural wealth, they lacked adequate technology and hence were not in a position to resist the onslaught and machinations of different kinds of the technologically-advanced colonials. The resource-rich countries were, in the main, in Asia, Africa and Latin America. Highly developed naval vessels and a state-driven overpowering desire to explore resources in different regions of the world enabled the colonials to adopt different strategies for befriending and subsequently subjugating the peoples of the resource-rich areas.

    Genesis Of Exploitation

    Because of her tremendous naval power, Britain spread its net of exploration quite wide in South Asia and Africa. In India, the British came in as traders established the East India Company and then gradually started flexing their arms and took control of administration and became the rulers of the country. Though they allowed some pockets to be “ruled” by rajas, maharajas, nizams and nawabs, these provinces were not independent in the real sense of the term but were virtually servile to the British, if not their minions, in many ways. That is how the genesis of exploitation took shape in India. Subsequently, there were myriad ways in which colonial exploitation occurred—physical exploitation of the people including sexual abuse and exploitation of labour was one of the forms of that

    Other ways of exploitation were the draining of different kinds of agricultural and forest resources; these included: jute, cotton, sugar, tea, coffee and wheat. The goods developed in British factories were sold back in India for rich benefits. Also, commercial crops like tea, coffee, indigo, opium, cotton, jute, sugarcane and oilseed were introduced and these had impacted their profits tremendously but had different environmental implications in different regions of the country, as plantations always do, due the exercise of clear felling of the forests in almost all cases of extensive plantation activities.

    Repatriating The Kohinoor

    To top it all, regarding exploitation, was the brazen way in which India’s heritage wealth, antiquities and artefacts, were exported to their home bases, by the colonials, to unabashedly adorn their own museums and galleries. Many of these artefacts were stolen without any hesitation. Today it is being argued that one of the most famous diamonds in the world, the Kohinoor, was not necessarily snatched from the people of India but was offered on a platter to the British as part of the peace treaty of Lahore by the king of Punjab Maharaja Dalip Singh. Arm-twisting gets another name in diplomatic parlance—offer. And the British have the temerity to continue to adorn their crown with the Kohinoor though they refrained from its display on the head of the recently crowned queen, the wife of King Charles III during the latter’s coronation, in a rare diplomatic courtesy, apparently not to provoke the sensibility of the Indian delegation attending the coronation.

    As Rishi Sunak is more loyal than the queen, there is no chance of him taking the initiative in repatriating to India the Kohinoor or the innumerable other artefacts that were stolen/snatched from India and today adorn the British Museum and many other of their galleries.

    Last week the Standing Committee on Transport, Tourism and Culture headed by YSR Congress MP Vijay Sai Reddy, adopted the Report ‘Heritage Theft – The Illegal Trade in Indian Antiquities and the Challenges of Retrieving and Safeguarding Our Tangible Cultural Heritage’. The Committee conferred with the Culture Ministry officials who apparently think that while efforts were being made to bring back the stolen antiquities from different foreign locations, the case of Kohinoor diamond is “contentious since it was surrendered by Maharaja Dalip Singh as part of the 1849 peace treaty with the British”.

    Reversing Colonial Exploitation

    To recapitulate and also to highlight the way in which different forms of exploitation occurred, we can argue that in the first instance, it was human exploitation wherein there was sexual abuse, killings and decimation of populations. The second way was the exploitation of the agricultural and natural resources which can be conceived of as resources that were “consumables” and “non-durables”. The third was the exploitation of the heritage wealth that falls in the realm of non-consumables and durables.

    So, today, when we explore measures that could be thought of in terms of “getting back” things and reversing the impact that colonial exploitation had on India, we can think of some strategies: in the case of the first two, that is human exploitation and the draining of consumables, there can only be reparations if the Britishers’ conscience pricks them enough; or at least unqualified apologies. But in the case of the third, that is the loss of heritage wealth, there can, and should indeed be repatriation of the stolen antiquities.

    A host of “art dealers” in different parts of the country are smuggling out artefacts and antiquities from India, particularly from ancient temples, and at times from museums, on a large scale. Only a fraction of this comes to light.

    Now, talking about the loss of heritage wealth, we also have to bring into the picture the fact that it is happening, quite rampantly, even today though the colonials left the shores years back on India becoming independent. A host of “art dealers” (read thieves) in different parts of the country are smuggling out artefacts and antiquities from India, particularly from ancient temples, and at times from museums, on a large scale. Only a fraction of this comes to light when these items are exhibited in galleries and museums in different parts of the world; often times these are hidden in private collections. India is trying to regain some of this heritage wealth but there seem to be obstacles, at times quite unsurmountable, of the diplomatic and other kinds. Let us hope the Standing Committee on Transport, Tourism and Culture succeeds in its exertions.

     

    A version of this article was published earlier in moneycontrol.com

    Feature Image Credit: Kohinoor Diamond in Queen’s Crown, now safely kept in the Tower of London. smithsonianmag.com 

    Picture of Idols: The three 15th century ‘panchaloga’ idols of Shri Rama, Sita, and Laxman were stolen in 1978 from a Vijaynagara era temple (15th Century) in Anandamangalam village in Tamilnadu, India. These were identified and finally restored to India by the UK government in 2020. www.bbc.com

     

  • Indian Philosophy and religion: Abolishing the caste system as an attempt in Intercultural Philosophy

    Indian Philosophy and religion: Abolishing the caste system as an attempt in Intercultural Philosophy

    We start the year 2023 with an examination of philosophy and society and through it the social evil of caste. The origin of the caste system in Hindu society lies buried in many myths and misconceptions. Caste is often linked by many to the core of Hindu philosophy. This is a deeply flawed understanding. The caste system has been and continues to be a tool of power and economic exploitation by oppressing large segments of the population. It is largely an invention by the clergy to establish their power and domination through rituals and codes and by ascribing to them a forced religious sanctity. As it also becomes convenient to the rulers, caste and class are prevalent in all societies. Philosophy and true religion, as Andreas points out in this working paper,  have had nothing to do with caste or class.                                        – TPF Editorial Team

     

    Introduction

    Intercultural philosophy is absolutely necessary in order to cope with the current and new phase of hybrid globalization, which is dissolving all kinds of traditional identities. Whereas the current reaction to this process is the development of ideologies centred on the idea of “we against the rest”, whoever the “Rest” might be, we need to construct positive concepts of identity, which does not exclude but include the other. These can be based on the mutual recognition of the civilizations of the world and their philosophies. According to Karl Jaspers the godfather of intercultural philosophy, between the sixth and third century BC the development of great cities, and the development in agriculture and sciences led to a growth of the populace that forced humankind to develop new concepts of thinking. He labelled this epoch as the axial age of world history in which everything turned around. He even argued that in this time the particular human being or human thinking was born with which we still live today – my thesis is that all human religions, civilizations and philosophies share the same problems and questions but did find different solutions.

    A vivid example might be the relationship between happiness and suffering. In the philosophy of the Greek philosopher Aristotle, to achieve eudemonia or happiness in your earthly life was the greatest aim whereas in a popular understanding of Karma, life is characterized by suffering and the aim is to overcome suffering by transcending to Nirvana. You see, the problem is the same, but there are different solutions in various philosophies. Although Jaspers didn’t share the reduction of philosophy and civilization to the European or even German experience and included mainly the Chinese and Indian civilization, he nevertheless excluded the African continent and both Americas, Muslim civilization as well as the much older Egyptian civilization. So, although he enlarged our knowledge and understanding of civilizations his point of reference was still “Western modernity” and within it, the concept of functional differentiation played the major role.

    Another solution is embodied in the belief of the three monotheistic religions, that an omnipotent god is the unifying principle despite all human differentiations and even the differences between the living and the dead, love and hate, between war and peace, men and women, old and young, linear and non-linear understanding of time, beginning and ending, happiness and suffering.  In this belief system, we are inevitably confronted with unsurpassable contrasts, conflicts and contradictions – but an all-powerful and absolute good god is the one who is uniting all these contrasts.

    In principle in Chinese philosophy, we have the same problem – but instead of an all-powerful God, we as humans have the task to live in harmony with the cosmic harmony. So, I really think that we humans share the same philosophical problems – how to explain and overcome death, evil, suffering, and the separation from transcendence. Although Karl Jaspers could be seen as the founding father of intercultural philosophy, I think he put too much emphasis solely on the functional differentiation that an ever-growing populace could live together without violence. In my view, the questions of life and death are running deeper. I would not exclude functional differentiation as one of the driving forces of human development but at least we also need an understanding of human existence that is related to transgressing the contrasts of life.

    In this draft, I would like to give some impressions concerning this same problem based on my limited knowledge of Indian philosophy and religion and try to show that both are opposing the caste system as well as any kind of dogmatism. An Indian student asked me in the run-up to this draft how one could understand Indian philosophy if one had not internalized the idea of rebirth since you are a baby. From her point of view, the whole thinking on the Indian subcontinent is thus determined by the idea of rebirth – this problem will still occupy us in the question of whether the terrible caste system in India is compatible with the original intentions of the Indian religions, whether it can be derived from them or contradicts them. I will try to give a reason for the assumption that Indian philosophy is quite universal and at the same time open to different strands of philosophical thought, retaining its core.

    In its essence, it is about Karma, rebirth, and Moksha. An understanding of Atman and Brahman is essential. Atman is the soul, indestructible, and is part of Brahman (omnipresent God). When Atman continues to reform and refine itself through rebirths aspiring to become one with Brahman, that is Moksha. To attain Moksha is the purpose of each life. Moksha is being one with God…a state where there is no more rebirths. Of course, differences are there in interpreting Atman and Brahman, depending on the Advaita and Dwaita schools of philosophy. Ultimately both narrow down to the same point – Moksha. Karma is the real part. True Karma is about doing your work in life as duty and dispassionately. Understanding that every life form has a purpose, one should go about it dispassionately. Easier said than done. Understanding this is the crux. In an ideal life where one has a full understanding of Karma and performs accordingly, he/she will have no rebirth. Indian philosophy is careful to separate the religious and social practices of the common folks and the high religion.  Hence Caste and hierarchy are not part of the philosophical discourse, although many make the mistake of linking them. Caste, like in any other religion, is a clergy-driven issue for power and economic exploitation.

    Indian Philosophy (or, in Sanskrit, Darshanas), refers to any of several traditions of philosophical thought that originated in the Indian subcontinent, including Hindu philosophy, Buddhist philosophy, and Jain philosophy. It is considered by Indian thinkers to be a practical discipline, and its goal should always be to improve human life. In contrast to the major monotheistic religions, Hinduism does not draw a sharp distinction between God and creation (while there are pantheistic and panentheistic views in Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, these are minority positions). Many Hindus believe in a personal God and identify this God as immanent in creation. This view has ramifications for the science and religion debate, in that there is no sharp ontological distinction between creator and creature. Philosophical theology in Hinduism (and other Indic religions) is usually referred to as dharma, and religious traditions originating on the Indian subcontinent, including Hinduism, Jainism, Buddhism, and Sikhism, are referred to as dharmic religions. Philosophical schools within dharma are referred to as darśana.

    Religion and science

    One factor that unites dharmic religions is the importance of foundational texts, which were formulated during the Vedic period, between ca. 1600 and 700 BCE. These include the Véda (Vedas), which contain hymns and prescriptions for performing rituals, Brāhmaṇa, accompanying liturgical texts, and Upaniṣad, metaphysical treatises. The Véda appeals to a wide range of gods who personify and embody natural phenomena such as fire (Agni) and wind (Vāyu). More gods were added in the following centuries (e.g., Gaṇeśa and Sati-Parvati in the fourth century CE). Ancient Vedic rituals encouraged knowledge of diverse sciences, including astronomy, linguistics, and mathematics. Astronomical knowledge was required to determine the timing of rituals and the construction of sacrificial altars. Linguistics developed out of a need to formalize grammatical rules for classical Sanskrit, which was used in rituals. Large public offerings also required the construction of elaborate altars, which posed geometrical problems and thus led to advances in geometry.

    Classic Vedic texts also frequently used very large numbers, for instance, to denote the age of humanity and the Earth, which required a system to represent numbers parsimoniously, giving rise to a 10-base positional system and a symbolic representation for zero as a placeholder, which would later be imported in other mathematical traditions. In this way, ancient Indian dharma encouraged the emergence of the sciences.

    The relationship between science and religion on the Indian subcontinent is complex, in part because the dharmic religions and philosophical schools are so diverse.

    Around the sixth–fifth century BCE, the northern part of the Indian subcontinent experienced extensive urbanization. In this context, medicine became standardized (āyurveda). This period also gave rise to a wide range of philosophical schools, including Buddhism, Jainism, and Cārvāka. The latter defended a form of metaphysical naturalism, denying the existence of gods or karma. The relationship between science and religion on the Indian subcontinent is complex, in part because the dharmic religions and philosophical schools are so diverse. For example, Cārvāka proponents had a strong suspicion of inferential beliefs, and rejected Vedic revelation and supernaturalism in general, instead favouring direct observation as a source of knowledge. Such views were close to philosophical naturalism in modern science, but this school disappeared in the twelfth century. Nevertheless, already in classical Indian religions, there was a close relationship between religion and the sciences.

    Opposing dogmatism: the role of colonial rule

    The word “Hinduism” emerged in the nineteenth century, and some scholars have argued that the religion did so, too. They say that British colonials, taken aback by what they experienced as the pagan profusion of cults and gods, sought to compact a religious diversity into a single, subsuming entity. Being literate Christians, they looked for sacred texts that might underlay this imputed tradition, enlisting the assistance of the Sanskrit-reading Brahmins. A canon and an attendant ideology were extracted, and with it, Hinduism. Other scholars question this history, insisting that a self-conscious sense of Hindu identity preceded this era, defined in no small part by contrast to Islam.  A similar story could be told about other world religions. We shouldn’t expect to resolve this dispute, which involves the weightings we give to points of similarity and points of difference. And scholars on both sides of this divide acknowledge the vast pluralism that characterized, and still characterizes, the beliefs, rituals, and forms of worship among the South Asians who have come to identify as Hindu.

    Here I would like to mention some of the scriptures in Hinduism: The longest of these is the religious epic, the Mahabharata, which clocks in at some 180000 thousand words, which is ten times the size of the Iliad and the Odyssey of Homer combined. Then there’s the Ramayana, which recounts the heroic attempts of Prince Rama to rescue his wife from a demon king. It has as many verses as the Hebrew bible. The Vedas which are the oldest Sanskrit scriptures include hymns and other magical and liturgical; and the Rig-Veda, the oldest, consists of nearly 11 000 lines of hymns of praise to the gods.

    But the Rig Veda does not only contain hymns of praise of God but a philosophical exposition which can be compared with Hegel’s conceptualization of the beginning in his “Logic”, which is not just about logic in the narrow sense but about being and non-being:

    In the Rig Veda we find the following hymn:

    Nasadiya Sukta (10. 129)

    There was neither non-existence nor existence then;
    Neither the realm of space nor the sky which is beyond;
    What stirred? Where? In whose protection?

    There was neither death nor immortality then;
    No distinguishing sign of night nor of day;
    That One breathed, windless, by its own impulse;
    Other than that there was nothing beyond.

    Darkness there was at first, by darkness hidden;
    Without distinctive marks, this all was water;
    That which, becoming, by the void was covered;
    That One by force of heat came into being.

    Who really knows? Who will here proclaim it?
    Whence was it produced? Whence is this creation?
    Gods came afterwards, with the creation of this universe.
    Who then knows whence it has arisen?

    Whether God’s will created it, or whether He was mute;
    Perhaps it formed itself, or perhaps it did not;
    Only He who is its overseer in highest heaven knows,

    Only He knows, or perhaps He does not know.

    —Rigveda 10.129 (Abridged, Tr: Kramer / Christian)

    Nasadiya Sukta begins rather interestingly, with the statement – “Then, there was neither existence nor non-existence.” It ponders over the when, why and by whom of creation in a very sincere contemplative tone and provides no definite answers. Rather, it concludes that the gods too may not know, as they came after creation. And maybe the supervisor of creation in the highest heaven knows, or maybe even he does not know.

    The philosophical character of this hymn becomes obvious when stating that there was something or someone who created even the gods. This question might be similar to the one that created the big bang thirteen billion years ago. In my view, the Rigveda is the most elaborate Veda opposing any kind of dogmatism, any ideology. Instead, it gives reason for the assumption which is of paramount importance in an ever-changing world, that there is no absolute knowledge, there is an increasing sense of unsureness, and we can’t rely on fixed rules – but that we are responsible for our actions.

    Müller made the term central to his criticism of Western theological and religious exceptionalism (relative to Eastern religions) focusing on a cultural dogma which held “monotheism” to be both fundamentally well-defined and inherently superior to differing conceptions of God.

    The second problem is related to the question of whether this hymn should be interpreted as monotheistic, dualistic or polytheistic. Some scholars like Frederik Schelling have invented the term Henotheism (from, greek ἑνός θεοῦ (henos theou), meaning ‘of one god’) is the worship of a single god while not denying the existence or possible existence of other deities. Schelling coined the word, and Frederik Welcker (1784–1868) used it to depict primitive monotheism in ancient Greeks. Max Müller (1823–1900), a German philologist and orientalist, brought the term into wider usage in his scholarship on the Indian religions, particularly Hinduism whose scriptures mention and praise numerous deities as if they are one ultimate unitary divine essence.  Müller made the term central to his criticism of Western theological and religious exceptionalism (relative to Eastern religions) focusing on a cultural dogma which held “monotheism” to be both fundamentally well-defined and inherently superior to differing conceptions of God.

    Mueller in the end emphasizes that henotheism is not a primitive form of monotheism but a different conceptualization. We find a similar passage in the gospel of John in which it is stated:

    1In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him, nothing was made that has been made. 4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

    It is clearly written that in the beginning there was the word – not God. In the original Greek version of this gospel, the term logos is used, and Hegel made this passage the foundation of his whole philosophy. Closely related to the Rig Veda is the concept of Atman. Ātman (Atma, आत्मा, आत्मन्) is a Sanskrit word which means “essence, breath, soul” and which is for the first time discussed in the Rig-Veda.  Nevertheless, this concept is most cherished in the Upanishads, which are written precisely between the 8th to 5th centuries B.C., the period in which according to Jaspers the axial age began. Again, this concept is an attempt to reconcile the various differentiations which were necessary for the function of a society with an ever-increasing population.

    I want to highlight that Hinduism – in its Vedic and classic variants – did not support the caste system; but that it rigorously opposed it in practice and principle. Even after the emergence of the caste system, Hindu society still saw considerable occupational and social mobility. Moreover, Hinduism created legends to impress on the popular mind the invalidity of the caste system – a fact further reinforced by the constant efflorescence of reform movements throughout history. The caste system survived despite this because of factors that ranged from the socio-economic to the ecological sphere, which helped sustain and preserve the balance among communities in a non-modern world.

    It would be absolutely necessary to demolish the myth that the caste system is an intrinsic part of Hinduism as a religion as well as a philosophy.  Although, there is a historically explainable link between both but not one which I would label a necessary or logical connection. Of course, the proponents of the caste system tried to legitimize the caste system by using references from the ancient scriptures – but as we maintain we must not understand Hinduism just in relation to Dharma if we would understand it just as jati or birth-based social division.

    The myth of the caste system being an intrinsic part of Hinduism is a discourse in the meaning in which Foucault has used this concept as just exercising power.

    I’m not sure whether this interpretation represents the major understanding in India, but I think it might be essential in a globalized world to debunk this only seemingly close relation, which has just a historical dimension and would therefore be a vivid example just of a discursive practice. The myth of the caste system being an intrinsic part of Hinduism is a discourse in the meaning in which Foucault has used this concept as just exercising power.

    This discourse is believed by orthodox elements in Hinduism as well as propagated by elements outside of Hinduism who are trying to proselyte Hindus. I would like to treat this problem a little bit more extensively because it might be used for other religions and civilizations, too, in which suppression and dominance are seemingly legitimized by holy scriptures but by taking a closer look this relation is just a discourse of power.

     Nevertheless, there is a very old text of Hinduism in which the caste system is legitimized. It is called  Manusmṛiti (Sanskrit: मनुस्मृति), also spelt as Manusmruti, is an ancient legal text. It was one of the first Sanskrit texts to have been translated into English in 1794, by Sir William Jones, and was used to formulate the Hindu law by the British colonial government.

    Over fifty manuscripts of the Manusmriti are now known, but the earliest discovered, most translated and presumed authentic version since the 18th century has been the “Calcutta manuscript with Kulluka Bhatta commentary”.

    How did caste come about?

    Manusmriti, widely regarded to be the most important and authoritative book on Hindu law and dating back to at least 1,000 years before Christ was born, seems to “acknowledge and justify the caste system as the basis of order and regularity of society”. The caste system divides Hindus into four main categories – Brahmins, Kshatriyas, Vaishyas and the Shudras. Many believe that the groups originated from Brahma, the Hindu God of creation.

    At the top of the hierarchy were the Brahmins who were mainly teachers and intellectuals and are believed to have come from Brahma’s head. Then came the Kshatriyas, or the warriors and rulers, supposedly from his arms. The third slot went to the Vaishyas, or the traders, who were created from his thighs. At the bottom of the heap were the Shudras, who came from Brahma’s feet and did all the menial jobs. The main castes were further divided into about 3,000 castes and 25,000 sub-castes, each based on their specific occupation. Outside of this Hindu caste system were the achhoots – the Dalits or the untouchables.

    How does caste work?

    For centuries, caste has dictated almost every aspect of Hindu religious and social life, with each group occupying a specific place in this complex hierarchy. Rural communities have long been arranged on the basis of castes – the upper and lower castes almost always lived in segregated colonies, the water wells were not shared, Brahmins would not accept food or drink from the Shudras, and one could marry only within one’s caste. The system bestowed many privileges on the upper castes while sanctioning repression of the lower castes by privileged groups.

    New research shows that hard boundaries between the social groups were only set by British colonial rulers who made caste India’s defining social feature when they used censuses to simplify the system, primarily to create a single society with a common law that could be easily governed.

    Often criticized for being unjust and regressive, it remained virtually unchanged for centuries, trapping people into fixed social orders from which it was impossible to escape. Despite the obstacles, however, some Dalits and other low-caste Indians, such as BR Ambedkar who authored the Indian constitution, and KR Narayanan who became the nation’s first Dalit president, have risen to hold prestigious positions in the country. Historians, though, say that until the 18th Century, the formal distinctions of caste were of limited importance to Indians, social identities were much more flexible, and people could move easily from one caste to another. New research shows that hard boundaries between the social groups were only set by British colonial rulers who made caste India’s defining social feature when they used censuses to simplify the system, primarily to create a single society with a common law that could be easily governed.

    So, the caste system in its strict interpretation is an invention of British rules – of course, it existed already in some form around three thousand years ago. However, it is disputed whether in ancient times it was more of a kind of functional differentiation in the meaning of Karl Jaspers, whereas since colonial times it became a separation boundary between the various groups. I assume that the colonial rulers transformed an existing variety of functional differentiations of identities into strictly separated castes for reasons of securing their rule. As in other colonial rules like in Africa, the colonizers were puzzled by the plurality of social groups, their ability to change from one group to the other and transformed social groups based on functional differentiation into castes and classes to facilitate their own rule. Overcoming the caste system thus involves overcoming colonialism.

  • The Tamils Are The Original Inhabitants Of Sri Lanka

    The Tamils Are The Original Inhabitants Of Sri Lanka

    Many of history writing across the world is heavily influenced by nationalist narratives, religion, mythologies, and dominant accounts. However, it is now possible to re-establish past histories with the assistance of modern science through the use of anthropology, genetics, linguistics, etc. Sri Lanka’s history is intimately tied to that of the subcontinent, more particularly the Peninsula and Tamilnadu. Justice C M Wigneswaran provides a very incisive analysis of the island nation’s origins.

    Ruwanwalisay Temple at Anuradhapura – Image Credit: M Matheswaran

    Someone asked me; We read in the press your response to a question recently. You seem to be making sweeping statements about the Sinhalese. As far as we know the Sinhalese were the original inhabitants of this Island and the Tamils came in the 10th Century AD after the Chola Conquest. What proof have you about what you say?

    My response was; Professor Wijeyanayake from London like many other Sinhala Scholars wrote in the Sunday Observer of 17th November 1996 as follows- “The Origin of the Sinhala Race is in Lanka. There is no scientific evidence of Indians originating in India who spoke Sinhala”. Sinhalese are those who speak the Sinhala Language. Of course these days there are Sinhalese who have forgotten their mother language and have embraced other languages like English and French in their countries of emigration. But in early times the Sinhalese would have been those who spoke the Sinhala Language mainly. Without the Sinhala Language, there could have been no Sinhalese.

    When did the Sinhala Language come into being?

    The earliest Sinhala work was Siyabaslakara around 848 CE (9th Century AD). The next was Dhampiya-atuva Gatapadayo which came out around 918 CE (10th Century AD). Pali words are used both in a modified and pure form quite heavily in this latter work. The first Sinhala grammar Sidath Sangaraya belongs to the 13th Century AD. The inscriptions before the 7th Century AD do not mention Sinhala as a language and ethnicity of the people. The term “Sihala” (Lion in Pali) occurs for the first time in the Dipawansa (5th Century AD). Only once is the term coming up to say the Island was known as Sihala on account of the presence of Lions.

    In the Mahawansa the term Sihala appears twice. But there is no reference to the people called Sinhalese nor the Language called Sinhala. R.A.L.H. Gunawardana in his book “The People of the Lion: The Sinhala Identity and ideology in History and Historiography” (Sri Lanka Journal of the Humanities Vol V:1-2 (1979)) claims that before the 12th Century AD the Sinhala identity did not cover a whole people in Sri Lanka but only a small ruling class. This meant even by the 12th Century AD Sinhala had not become a full-fledged people’s language yet. What you have been fed to believe as per your question is pseudo-history created before the 1970s.

    After the 1970s even Sinhala historians have begun to doubt the story of Sri Lanka’s history starting with the coming of Vijaya from North India. Now our history books do not start with the coming of Vijaya as before. They start with the Stone Age civilization which was long prior to (the fictitious) Vijaya landing in Sri Lanka. Our history books now accept that permanent settlements, agriculture, use of skills, use of iron, urbanisation etc took place in this Island before the coming of (the fictitious) Vijaya. It is interesting to note that none of the books on the ancient history of any of the States in North India refers to the emigration of a person called Vijaya with 700 followers from their shores at any time in their ancient history. So now we start history from dates anterior to the coming of (the fictitious) Vijaya. Historically it is more plausible to believe that Mahawamsa written in Pali was a fiction written for the glorification of Buddhism. In fact, the author mentions so at the end of every stanza.

    But so far our Sinhala historians have not officially identified who these people who lived in this country before the coming of (the fictitious) Vijaya were. This is because any attempt, to tell the truth, will be beneficial to the Tamils and the pseudo-history of the Sinhalese hitherto purveyed would get exposed! I am told there was pressure recently to prevent the author of “Demala Baudhayo” bringing out a reprint of his book.

    The importance of the 1970s and the post-1970s period lies in the fact that scientific archaeological research began to take place here from then on. Not only that, our local researchers were helped by erudite foreign archaeologists from France, Germany, Britain and USA together with UNESCO experts. The pseudo-Sinhala Buddhist historians found it difficult to make progress due to this.

    A view of the Twin tanks: Archaelogical site at Anuradhapura – Photo Credit: M Matheswaran

    There is now archaeological evidence that pre-historic Stone Age people lived on this Island from over 125000 years ago according to excavations made in Iranaimadu in Kilinochchi District and in certain areas in Southern Sri Lanka. Dr Siran Deraniyagala brought these matters out, through his researches.

    The Stone Age could be generally divided into three periods 1. Paleolithic (Old Stone Age) (Before 10000 BC) 2. Mesolithic (Middle Stone Age) (Between 10000 BC and 8000 BC) 3. Neolithic (New Stone Age) (from 8000 BC to 3000BC). (Greek – lithos – Stone). But in certain regions, the Mesolithic period may have started even before 10000 BC.

    There is evidence that from 30000 years ago the Mesolithic people lived in our Hill Country as well as the Low Lands. About 75 evidences have been unearthed. Also, there is evidence to show that majority of these Mesolithic people lived mainly in the Northern and Eastern parts of Sri Lanka. They led a nomadic life. Their advancement in civilization is perceivable from the findings in caves, hills and on level ground.

    Thus the idea that the early inhabitants of Sri Lanka came from North India is now not accepted. It is agreed that long before the time of Mahawamsa, Sri Lanka enjoyed a culture similar to South India and those ancients were the progenitors of the present Sinhalese and Tamils.

    They attribute close similarities in lifestyle between these people and those who lived in the South of present Tamil Nadu. These are confirmed by experts in the fields of archaeology, humanities, philology and history. About 200 words found in the Tamil Language spoken by these people were taken into the Sinhala language later.

    It has been authoritatively said that the stone implements used by our Mesolithic people were the same as those used in Thirunelveli District in South India. According to Professor Indrapala, this civilization spread from South India to North Sri Lanka and thereafter spread to other parts of Sri Lanka.

    Around 3000 years ago early Iron Age was introduced to this Island. There too we see very close similarities between what was found in Southern Tamil Nadu and Sri Lanka. Vimala Begley who conducted researches in Kantharodai in the 1970s concluded that those who inhabited the Jaffna Peninsula in ancient times had very close relationship with the Southern part of present Tamil Nadu.

    Their cultural affinity in Sri Lanka extended from Kantharodai up to Puttalam. Pomparipu in the Puttalam District especially had very close resemblance to what is found in Kantharodai. Professor Sudarshan Seneviratne too has confirmed this finding. Professor Indrapala too confirms that the culture of the Stone Age people in Sri Lanka came within the ambit of the South Indian cultural ambience of that time.

    Thus the idea that the early inhabitants of Sri Lanka came from North India is now not accepted. It is agreed that long before the time of Mahawamsa, Sri Lanka enjoyed a culture similar to South India and those ancients were the progenitors of the present Sinhalese and Tamils. Professor Senaka Bandaranayake has said that these ancients had no ethnic differences but only cultural differences. These differences he says could have existed even before the time of the visit of the so-called Vijaya to the Island. If we examine the culture and life habits of the ancient Stone Age people they had a habit of inscribing their name or the names of those who shaped the clay pots and utensils, on them. This habit is seen to have existed both in South India and Sri Lanka during that period. This habit is not visible in any other part of India. These writings on clay pots have been unearthed in Tamil Nadu and in Anuradhapura. Anuradhapura pots belong to a period over 2750 years ago. The writings on pots have been identified as Tamil letters in the Tamil Language. Writing started in North India only about 2300 years ago. But both in Tamil Nadu and Sri Lanka these writings have been found to exist much earlier. Now historians believe that the art of writing went from the South to North India.

    Recent Keeladi excavations in Madurai, South India has shown evidence of a civilization anterior to all others in India. Thus, before the introduction of Buddhism to Sri Lanka, the fact that the progenitors of the present Sinhalese and the Tamils lived here, has been accepted scientifically. The recent DNA tests confirmed this.

    When we examine the writings in Sinhala, Professor Fernando, Professor Saddha Mangala Karunaratne and Professor Ariya Abeysinghe have said that before the North Indian Prakrit was introduced with Buddhism into Sri Lanka, the Script similar to the South Indian Script was available in Sri Lanka. We could gather from their researches that Tamil Script and Tamil Language and Dravidian words were in use in Sri Lanka before Sinhala Language came into use. That is why I boldly said the language of our ancients was Tamil and the original indigenous population of Sri Lanka were Tamil.

    Buddhism spread in this Island from the 3rd Century BC onwards. Over 1500 identified inscriptions confirm this. These inscriptions have Brahmi script from North India plus Tamil Script inscribed on them. There was no Sinhala script nor Sinhala language nor Sinhalese people then. Thus it is clear that the Tamil Language was in use in Sri Lanka prior to the introduction of Buddhism and before the introduction of the North Indian Brahmi Script.

    Even though Professor Paranavithana tried to identify the North Indian Prakrit as an old Sinhala Script and tried to show wherever Prakrit was in use the Sinhalese lived there, this statement of the Professor is now not accepted because with the spread of Buddhism, the Prakrit script too spread all over South and South East Asia and was in use for over 700 years as the script of inscriptions. Prakrit was not old Sinhala. If it was, the Sinhala language should have been spoken in other South East Asian countries too.

    But in Tamil Nadu the language of the Buddhist inscriptions was Tamil. If we examine the 1500 Brahmi inscriptions in Sri Lanka even though Northern Brahmi was generally used, in addition, many Tamil words were also used. Specially the names of individual Tamils were referred to in Tamil. Relationships among individuals were referred to in the Tamil Language. Place names have been written in Tamil. Even titles of Tamil rulers were written in Tamil. This shows the existence of the Tamil language in Sri Lanka before the introduction of Buddhism and hence Tamils were the original inhabitants of this Island at the time Buddhism was introduced.

    If we examine the evolution of the Sinhala language we have a parallel in the evolution of Malayalam. The present Kerala was part of Tamil-speaking regions in Tamil Nadu. They were ruled by Chera Kings. The transformation of Tamil to Malayalam took place due to the heavy influence of Sanskrit from the 10th  Century AD on the Tamil language. Tamil plus Sanskrit brought in Malayalam. Hence I referred to a new language in the offing in Chennai today. Tamil plus English might produce Tamilish in 25 to 50 years.

    Similarly, the introduction of the Pali language in Sri Lanka as the language of Buddhism when it mixed with the local Tamil language it developed into a new language called Sinhalese around the 6th or 7thCentury AD.

    The evidence for this could be found in Sigiriya. Sigiriya inscriptions of 5th Century AD portray early Sinhalese not yet developed into a proper language. Thus there is no evidence that the Sinhala language existed before the 7th Century AD. The Sinhala Script has developed due to the mixing of Brahmi letters with the Pallava period grantha letters.

    The Sinhala literature like Rajavaliya and Poojavaliya belongs to the 13th Century AD.

    Your question contains a reference to the Tamils coming here only during the Chola conquest in 10thCentury. There had been Tamils living on this Island from a long, long time ago. May be from the time of the Lemurian Continent which is now under the Indian Ocean. The earliest Tamil Sangam period and the Second Sangam period (Muthal Sangam and Idai Sangam) have been referred to in the last Sangam period (Kadai Sangam) literature and the literary works of the earlier Sangam Periods are referred to in the Kadai Sangam literature. Tamil is one of the earliest languages of this World if not the earliest. There have been Pandya, Pallava, and Chola conquests of Sri Lanka from ancient times. Thus there have been waves of Tamil intrusions. But the original Tamils of Sri Lanka have been occupying this Country from over 3000 years ago. The present tendency to refer to Buddhism as that of the Sinhalese and Hinduism as that of the Tamils is erroneous. When religions are introduced into a Country they are not introduced to be followed only by particular races. When Buddhism was introduced into this Island there were no Sinhalese. Thus the Tamil King Devanampiya Theesan got converted to Buddhism.

    There is considerable evidence to show the existence of Tamil Buddhists in Pali literature and Brahmic inscriptions. Tamil Kings were given the titles Buddha thasan and Buddhadevan when they supported Buddhism and Buddhist causes.

    Up to 15 th or 16 th  Century there were Tamil Buddhists according to Pali literature. The inscriptions of Nainatheevu in North Sri Lanka refer to Tamil Buddhists. Professor Sunil Ariyaratne in his “Demala Baudhayo” refers to Tamil Buddhists.

    In recent times Sinhalese portraying themselves as Buddhists and Tamils as Hindus have brought about polarization says Professor Pushparatnam. This could have been avoided he says.

    When I was living in the old Anuradhapura Town in the 1940s there were Tamils who owned lots of lands around Nuwara Wewa who were more or less Demala Baudhayos. Even I used to go to Ruwanwelisaya and Mahabodhi to worship with my parents (both Hindus). We joined the Buddhists who came from nearby villages to do “Pongal” during Poson. Buddhist philosophy influenced me considerably. Together with Dr Adikaram and others, we were votaries of Philosopher J. Krishnamurthi whose teachings were close to Buddhist philosophy. Of course, later, Hindu Saints were able to point out the limitations of the Buddhist philosophy to me.

    Professor Pushparatnam has said even the Mahawansa is a useful reference Book to prove the existence of Tamils at the time of the arrival of Vijaya.

    Mahawansa refers to 700 Tamil Brides from Madurai together with 1000 Tamil families employed in 18 professions being brought down to Sri Lanka on Vijaya’s request. That means more Tamil families came into the Country from Madurai than the 701 who came from elsewhere! This is according to the Mahawansa!

    Even the so-called statement of Dushta Gamini that the Tamils are on one side and the sea on the other side refers to the existence of a large amount of Tamils in the country at that time says Professor Pushparatnam. Ellalan was a Tamil King thus how could anyone say Tamils for the first time arrived at the time of the Chola conquest in the 10th century AD?

    Finally a word about Homeland of the Tamils. Before the Bakthi Cult was born in Tamil Nadu there is evidence of Tamils living outside the North and East as well. Pali Literature and certain inscriptions refer to the presence and influence of Tamils in Anuradhapura.

    Before Independence, the influence of Tamils in Anuradhapura was considerable in the Old Town. The new Town was constructed, one is forced to deduce, to reduce and negate the Tamil influence in Anuradhapura.

    Mahawansa refers to 32 Petty Tamil Kings Dutugemunu had to overcome before reaching Ellalan’s Capital. Coins of that period have been unearthed which point to Tamil presence from South to North. There are Tamil letters in those Coins. Names of Tamil Petty Kings are found in some of them. After the Bakthi Cult prospered in the North and East many Tamils living in other parts of Sri Lanka preferred to go to the North and East since the famous Hindu Temples lay there. This was a time when Jainism and Buddhism were beginning to go out of vogue due to the re-emergence of Saivaism consequent to the Bakthi Cult. The Thevarams of Nayanmars in South India referred to Thiruketheeswaram and Thirukoneswaram in Sri Lanka.

    Especially there is reference to Trincomalee being a full-fledged Saivite Tamil City. When the Cholas were ruling from Polonnaruwa their commercial outlet was Trincomalee. The North and East were distinct areas of Tamil habitation during the Chola Rule. The Jaffna Kingdom was consequent and subsequent to the Chola Rule. From the 13th Century to the 17th Century the Jaffna Kingdom existed. Puttalam came under the rule of the Jaffna King. Udapu is still a Tamil Village.

    When the Dutch during their rule brought out Coins they referred to the North and East separately and had them minted in Tamil. Thus the North and East were the homelands of the Tamils.

    To conclude – the Tamils were the Original inhabitants of this Island and there have been several waves of Tamil conquest but they only added to the Original indigenous Tamils who continued to live here from pre-historic times. Chola conquest was only one such intrusion from South India. Sinhala Language and Sinhala Race are very recent chronologically though the Sinhalese and the Tamils have had common progenitors from ancient times.

    Feature Image: Kandy Temple Precincts – Photo Credit: M Matheswaran

    This article was published earlier in Colombo Telegraph.

  • Valuing Folk Crop Varieties for Agroecology and Food Security

    Valuing Folk Crop Varieties for Agroecology and Food Security

    India’s Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change (MoEFCC) has recently, through an office memorandum, excluded the new generation genetically modified (GM) plants – also known as genetically edited (GE) plants – from the ambit of India’s biosafety rules. The use of GMO plant seeds like Monsanto’s Bt Cotton gave promising results initially but over a longer period it has resulted in many problems leading to large number of marginal farmer suicides. Based on this bitter experience the Government of India has brought in place very stringent bio-safety rules. However, with new biotech breakthroughs like Genome Editing techniques, there is a huge pressure from corporate giants like Monsanto, Bayer etc to open up agricultural markets in major countries like India and the global south. There is a fear that American capitalism driven biotech companies may destroy indigenous bio-diversities that could result in food insecurity in the long run. India adopted ‘Green Revolution’ in a big way to increase its food production. It lead to the use of High Yield Variety seeds and mono-cultural farming in a big way. Half a century later, there is a need to review the after effects of the ‘Green Revolution’ as the country is plagued by over use of fertilisers, pesticides, water scarcity, increasing salinity, and battling loss of nutrition in farmlands due to the loss of traditional crop diversity. India was home to a vast gene pool of 110000 varieties of native rice before the Green revolution, of which less than 600 are surviving today. The use of GMO crops will lead to further destruction of Indian food diversity. Genome editing, a newer technology, should be examined carefully from a policy perspective. The European Union treats all GMO and GE as one and therefore it has a single stringent policy. Dr Debal Deb has done a pioneering work in saving many of the indigenous rice varieties and campaigns against the industrial agriculture. His is a larger and vital perspective of Agricultural ecology. The Peninsula Foundation revisits his article of 2009 to drive home the importance of preserving and enhancing India’s bio-diversity and agricultural ecology as pressures from capitalist biotech predators loom large for commercial interests.

    – TPF Editorial Team

    On May 25, 2009, Hurricane Aila hit the deltaic islands of the Sunderban of West Bengal. The estuarine water surged and destroyed the villages. Farmer’s homes were engulfed by the swollen rivers, their properties vanished with the waves, and their means of livelihood disappeared, as illustrated by the empty farm fields, suddenly turned salty. In addition, most of the ponds and bore wells became salinized.

    Since Aila’s devastation, there has been a frantic search for the salt-tolerant rice seeds created by the ancestors of the current Sunderban farmers. With agricultural modernization, these heirloom crop varieties had slipped through the farmers’ hands.

    But now, after decades of complacency, farmers and agriculture experts alike have been jolted into realizing that on the saline Sunderban soil, modern high-yield varieties are no match for the “primitive,” traditional rice varieties. But the seeds of those diverse salt-tolerant varieties are unavailable now; just one or two varieties are still surviving on the marginal farms of a few poor farmers, who now feel the luckiest. The government rice gene banks have documents to show that they have all these varieties preserved, but they cannot dole out any viable seeds to farmers in need. That is the tragedy of the centralized ex situ gene banks, which eventually serve as morgues for seeds, killed by decades of disuse.

    The only rice seed bank in eastern India that conserves salt-tolerant rice varieties in situ is Vrihi, which has distributed four varieties of salt-tolerant rice in small quantities to a dozen farmers in Sunderban. The success of these folk rice varieties on salinized farms demonstrates how folk crop genetic diversity can ensure local food security. These folk rice varieties also promote sustainable agriculture by obviating the need for all external inputs of agrochemicals.

    Folk Rice Varieties, the Best Bet

    Not only the salinization of soil in coastal farmlands but also the too-late arrival of the monsoon this year has caused seedlings of modern rice varieties to wither on all un-irrigated farms and spelled doom for marginal farmers’ food security throughout the subcontinent. Despite all the brouhaha about the much-hyped Green Revolution, South Asia’s crop production still depends heavily on the monsoon rains and too much, too late, too early, or too scanty rain causes widespread failure of modern crop varieties. Around 60 per cent of India’s agriculture is unirrigated and totally dependent on rain.

    In 2002, the monsoon failure in July resulted in a seasonal rainfall deficit of 19 percent and caused a profound loss of agricultural production with a drop of over 3 percent in India’s GDP (Challinor et al. 2006). This year’s shortfall of the monsoon rain is likely to cause production to fall 10 to 15 million tons short of the 100 million tons of total production forecast for India at the beginning of the season (Chameides 2009). This projected shortfall also represents about 3 percent of the expected global rice harvest of 430 million tons.

    In the face of such climatic vagaries, modern agricultural science strives to incorporate genes for adaptation — genes that were carefully selected by many generations of indigenous farmer-breeders centuries ago. Thousands of locally-adapted rice varieties (also called “landraces”) were created by farmer selection to withstand fluctuations in rainfall and temperature and to resist various pests and pathogens. Most of these varieties, however, have been replaced by a few modern varieties, to the detriment of food security.

    Until the advent of the Green Revolution in the 1960s, India was believed to have been home to about 110,000 rice varieties (Richharia and Govindasamy 1990), most of which have gone extinct from farm fields. Perhaps a few thousand varieties are still surviving on marginal farms, where no modern cultivar can grow. In the eastern state of West Bengal, about 5600 rice varieties were cultivated, of which 3500 varieties of rice were shipped to the International Rice Research Institute (IRRI) of the Philippines during the period from 1975 to 1983 (Deb 2005). After an extensive search over the past fourteen years for extant rice varieties in West Bengal and a few neighboring states, I was able to rescue only 610 rice landraces from marginal farms. All others–about 5000–have disappeared from farm fields. The 610 extant rice varieties are grown every year on my conservation farm, Basudha. Every year, these seeds are distributed to willing farmers from the Vrihi seed bank free of charge.

    Vrihi (meaning “rice seed” in Sanskrit) is the largest non-governmental seed repository of traditional rice varieties in eastern India. These varieties can withstand a much wider range of fluctuations in temperature and soil nutrient levels as well as water stress than any of the modern rice varieties. This year’s monsoon delay has not seriously affected the survivorship and performance of the 610 rice varieties on the experimental farm, nor did the overabundant rainfall a few years earlier.

    Circumstances of Loss

    If traditional landraces are so useful, how could the farmers afford to lose them? The dynamics are complex but understandable. When government agencies and seed companies began promoting “miracle seeds,” many farmers were lured and abandoned their heirloom varieties. Farmers saw the initial superior yields of the high input–responsive varieties under optimal conditions and copied their “successful” neighbors. Soon, an increasing number of farmers adopted the modern, “Green Revolution” (GR) seeds, and farmers not participating in the GR were dubbed backward, anti-modern, and imprudent. Seed companies, state agriculture departments, the World Bank, universities, and national and international development NGOs (non-governmental organizations) urged farmers to abandon their traditional seeds and farming practices–both the hardware and software of agriculture. After a few years of disuse, traditional seed stocks became unviable and were thereby lost. Thus, when farmers began to experience failure of the modern varieties in marginal environmental conditions, they had no other seeds to fall back on. Their only option was, and still is, to progressively increase water and agrochemical inputs to the land. In the process, the escalating cost of modern agriculture eventually bound the farmers in an ever-tightening snare of debt. After about a century of agronomists’ faith in technology to ensure food security, farming has become a risky enterprise, with ever greater debt for farmers. Over 150,000 farmers are reported to have committed suicide between 1995 and 2004 in India (Government of India 2007), and the number grew by an annual average of 10,000 until 2007 (Posani 2009).

    The government gave ample subsidies for irrigation and fertilizers to convert marginal farms into more productive farms and boosted rice production in the first decade that GR seeds were used. Soon after, however, yield curves began to decline. After 40 years of GR, the productivity of rice is declining at an alarming rate (Pingali 1994). IRRI’s own study revealed yield decreases after cultivation of the “miracle rice variety” IR8 over a 10-year period (Flinn et al 1982). Today, just to keep the land productive, rice farmers in South Asia apply over 11 times more synthetic nitrogen fertilizers and 12.8 times more phosphate fertilizers per hectare than they did in the late 1960s (FAI 2008). Cereal yield has plummeted back to the pre-GR levels, yet many farmers cannot recall that they had previously obtained more rice per unit of input than what they are currently getting. Most farmers have forgotten the average yields of the traditional varieties and tend to believe that all traditional varieties were low-yielding. They think that the modern “high-yielding” varieties must yield more because they are so named.

    In contrast, demonstration of the agronomic performance of the 610 traditional rice varieties on Basudha farm over the past 14 years has convinced farmers that many traditional varieties can out-yield any modern cultivar. Moreover, the savings in terms of water and agrochemical inputs and the records of yield stability against the vagaries of the monsoon have convinced them of the economic advantages of ecological agriculture over chemical agriculture. Gradually, an increasing number of farmers have been receiving traditional seeds from the Vrihi seed bank and exchanging them with other farmers. As of this year, more than 680 farmers have received seeds from Vrihi and are cultivating them on their farms. None of them have reverted to chemical farming or to GR varieties.

    Extraordinary Heirlooms

    Every year, farmer-researchers meticulously document the morphological and agronomic characteristics of each of the rice varieties being conserved on our research farm, Basudha. With the help of simple equipment–graph paper, rulers, measuring tape, and a bamboo microscope (Basu 2007)–the researchers document 30 descriptors of rice, including leaf length and width; plant height at maturity; leaf and internode color; flag leaf angle; color and size of awns; color, shape and size of rice seeds and decorticated grains; panicle density; seed weight; dates of flowering and maturity; presence or absence of aroma; and diverse cultural uses.

    Vrihi’s seed bank collection includes numerous unique landraces, such as those with novel pigmentation patterns and wing-like appendages on the rice hull. Perhaps the most remarkable are Jugal, the double-grain rice, and Sateen, the triple-grain rice. These characteristics have been published and copyrighted (Deb 2005) under Vrihi’s name to protect the intellectual property rights of indigenous farmers.

    A few rice varieties have unique therapeutic properties. Kabiraj-sal is believed to provide sufficient nutrition to people who cannot digest a typical protein diet. Our studies suggest that this rice contains a high amount of labile starch, a fraction of which yields important amino acids (the building blocks of proteins). The pink starch of Kelas and Bhut moori is an essential nutrient for tribal women during and after pregnancy, because the tribal people believe it heals their anemia. Preliminary studies indicate a high content of iron and folic acid in the grains of these rice varieties. Local food cultures hold Dudh-sar and Parmai-sal in high esteem because they are “good for children’s brains.” While rigorous experimental studies are required to verify such folk beliefs, the prevalent institutional mindset is to discard folk knowledge as superstitious, even before testing it– until, that is, the same properties are patented by a multinational corporation.

    Traditional farmers grow some rice varieties for their specific adaptations to the local environmental and soil conditions. Thus, Rangi, Kaya, Kelas, and Noichi are grown on rainfed dryland farms, where no irrigation facility exists. Late or scanty rainfall does not affect the yield stability of these varieties. In flood-prone districts, remarkable culm elongation is seen in Sada Jabra, Lakshmi-dighal, Banya-sal, Jal kamini, and Kumrogorh varieties, which tend to grow taller with the level of water inundating the field. The deepest water that Lakshmi-dighal can tolerate was recorded to be six meters. Getu, Matla, and Talmugur can withstand up to 30 ppt (parts per thousand) of salinity, while Harma nona is moderately saline tolerant. No modern rice variety can survive in these marginal environmental conditions. Traditional crop varieties are often recorded to have out-yielded modern varieties in marginal environmental conditions (Cleveland et al. 2000).

    Farmer-selected crop varieties are not only adapted to local soil and climatic conditions but are also fine-tuned to diverse local ecological conditions and cultural preferences. Numerous local rice landraces show marked resistance to insect pests and pathogens. Kalo nunia, Kartik-sal, and Tulsi manjari are blast-resistant. Bishnubhog and Rani kajal are known to be resistant to bacterial blight (Singh 1989). Gour-Nitai, Jashua, and Shatia seem to resist caseworm (Nymphula depunctalis) attack; stem borer (Tryporyza spp.) attack on Khudi khasa, Loha gorah, Malabati, Sada Dhepa, and Sindur mukhi varieties is seldom observed.

    Farmers’ agronomic practices, adapting to the complexity of the farm food web interactions, have also resulted in selection of certain rice varieties with distinctive characteristics, such as long awn and erect flag leaf. Peasant farmers in dry lateritic areas of West Bengal and Jharkhand show a preference for long and strong awns, which deter grazing from cattle and goats (Deb 2005). Landraces with long and erect flag leaves are preferred in many areas, because they ensure protection of grains from birds.

    Different rice varieties are grown for their distinctive aroma, color, and tastes. Some of these varieties are preferred for making crisped rice, some for puffed rice, and others for fragrant rice sweets to be prepared for special ceremonies. Blind to this diversity of local food cultures and farm ecological complexity, the agronomic modernization agenda has entailed drastic truncation of crop genetic diversity as well as homogenization of food cultures on all continents.

    Sustainable Agriculture and Crop Genetic Diversity

    Crop genetic diversity, which our ancestors enormously expanded over millennia (Doebley 2006), is our best bet for sustainable food production against stochastic changes in local climate, soil chemistry, and biotic influences. Reintroducing the traditional varietal mixtures in rice farms is a key to sustainable agriculture. A wide genetic base provides “built-in insurance” (Harlan 1992) against crop pests, pathogens, and climatic vagaries.

    Traditional crop landraces are an important component of sustainable agriculture because their long-term yield stability is superior to most modern varieties. An ample body of evidence exists to indicate that whenever there is a shortage of irrigation water or of fertilizers–due to drought, social problems, or a disruption of the supply network– “modern crops typically show a reduction in yield that is greater and covers wider areas, compared with folk varieties” (Cleveland et al. 1994). Under optimal farming conditions, some folk varieties may have lower mean yields than high-yield varieties but exhibit considerably higher mean yields in the marginal environments to which they are specifically adapted.

    All these differences are amply demonstrated on Basudha farm in a remote corner of West Bengal, India. This farm is the only farm in South Asia where over 600 rice landraces are grown every year for producing seeds. These rice varieties are grown with no agrochemicals and scant irrigation. On the same farm, over 20 other crops, including oil seeds, vegetables, and pulses, are also grown each year. To a modern, “scientifically trained” farmer as well as a professional agronomist, it’s unbelievable that over the past eight years, none of the 610 varieties at Basudha needed any pesticides–including bio-pesticides–to control rice pests and pathogens. The benefit of using varietal mixtures to control diseases and pests has been amply documented in the scientific literature (Winterer et al. 1994; Wolfe 2000; Leung et al. 2003). The secret lies in folk ecological wisdom: biological diversity enhances ecosystem persistence and resilience. Modern ecological research (Folke et al. 2004; Tilman et al. 2006; Allesina and Pascual 2008) supports this wisdom.

    If the hardware of sustainable agriculture is crop diversity, the software consists of biodiversity-enhancing farming techniques. The farming technique is the “program” of cultivation and can successfully “run” on appropriate hardware of crop genetic and species diversity. In the absence of the appropriate hardware however, the software of ecological agriculture cannot give good results, simply because the techniques evolved in an empirical base of on-farm biodiversity. Multiple cropping, the use of varietal mixtures, the creation of diverse habitat patches, and the fostering of populations of natural enemies of pests are the most certain means of enhancing agroecosystem complexity. More species and genetic diversity mean greater complexity, which in turn creates greater resilience–that is, the system’s ability to return to its original species composition and structure following environmental perturbations such as pest and disease outbreaks or drought, etc.

    Ecological Functions of On-Farm Biodiversity

    Food security and sustainability at the production level are a consequence of the agroecosystem’s resilience, which can only be maintained by using diversity on both species and crop genetic levels. Varietal mixtures are a proven method of reducing diseases and pests. Growing companion crops like pigeonpea, chickpea, rozelle, yams, Ipomea fistulosa, and hedge bushes provide alternative hosts for many herbivore insects, thereby reducing pest pressure on rice. They also provide important nutrients for the soil, while the leaves of associate crops like pigeonpea (Cajanus cajan) can suppress growth of certain grasses like Cyperus rotundus.

    Pest insects and mollusks can be effectively controlled, even eliminated, by inviting carnivorous birds and reptiles (unless they have been eliminated from the area by pesticides and industrial toxins). Erecting bamboo “T’s” or placing dead tree branches on the farm encourages a range of carnivorous birds, including the drongo, bee eaters, owls, and nightjars, to perch on them. Leaving small empty patches or puddles of water on the land creates diverse ecosystems and thus enhances biodiversity. The hoopoe, the cattle egret, the myna, and the crow pheasant love to browse for insects in these open spaces.

    Measures to retain soil moisture to prevent nutrients from leaching out are also of crucial importance. The moisturizing effect of mulching triggers certain key genes that synergistically operate to delay crop senescence and reduce disease susceptibility (Kumar et al. 2004). The combined use of green mulch and cover crops nurtures key soil ecosystem components–microbes, earthworms, ants, ground beetles, millipedes, centipedes, pseudoscorpions, glow worms, and thrips — which all contribute to soil nutrient cycling.

    Agricultural sustainability consists of long-term productivity, not short-term increase of yield. Ecological agriculture, which seeks to understand and apply ecological principles to farm ecosystems, is the future of modern agriculture. To correct the mistakes committed in the course of industrial agriculture over the past 50 years, it is imperative that the empirical agricultural knowledge of past centuries and the gigantic achievements of ancient farmer-scientists are examined and employed to reestablish connections to the components of the agroecosystem. The problems of agricultural production that arise from the disintegration of agorecosystem complexity can only be solved by restoring this complexity, not by simplifying it with technological fixes.

    Further Reading and Resources: in situ conservation and agroecology

    References

    Allesina S and Pascual M (2008). Network structure, predator-prey modules, and stability in large food webs. Theoretical Ecology 1(1):55-64.

    Basu, P (2007). Microscopes made from bamboo bring biology into focus. Nature Medicine 13(10): 1128. http://www.nature.com/nm/journal/v13/n10/pdf/nm1007-1128a.pdf.

    Challinor A, Slingo J, Turner A and Wheeler T (2006). Indian Monsoon: Contribution to the Stern Review. University of Reading. www.hm-treasury.gov.uk/d/Challinor_et_al.pdf.

    Chameides B (2009). Monsoon fails, India suffers. The Green Grok. Nicholas School of the Environment at Duke University. www.nicholas.duke.edu/thegreengrok/monsoon_india.

    Cleveland DA, Soleri D and Smith SE (1994). Do folk crop varieties have a role in sustainable agriculture? BioScience 44(11): 740–751.

    Cleveland DA, Soleri D and Smith SE (2000). A biological framework for understanding farmers’ plant breeding. Economic Botany 54(3): 377–394.

    Deb D (2005). Seeds of Tradition, Seeds of Future: Folk Rice Varieties from east India. Research Foundation for Science Technology & Ecology. New Delhi.

    Doebley J (2006). Unfallen grains: how ancient farmers turned weeds into crops. Science 312(5778): 1318–1319.

    FAI (2008). Fertiliser Statistics, Year 2007-2008. Fertilizer Association of India. New Delhi. http://www.faidelhi.org/

    Flinn JC, De Dutta SK and Labadan E (1982). An analysis of long term rice yields in a wetland soil. Field Crops Research 7(3): 201–216.

    Folke C, Carpenter S, Walker B, Scheffer M, Elmqvist T, Gunderson L and Holling CS (2004). Regime shifts, resilience and biodiversity in ecosystem management. Annual Review of Ecology, Evolution and Systematics 35: 557–581.

    Government of India (2007). Report of the Expert Group on Agricultural Indebtedness. Ministry of Agriculture. New Delhi. http://www.igidr.ac.in/pdf/publication/PP-059.pdf

    Harlan JR (1992) Crops and Man (2nd edition). , p. 148. American Society of Agronomy, Inc and Crop Science Society of America, Inc., Madison, WI.

    Kumar V, Mills DJ, Anderson JD and Mattoo AK (2004). An alternative agriculture system is defined by a distinct expression profile of select gene transcripts and proteins. PNAS 101(29): 10535–10540

    Leung H, Zhu Y, Revilla-Molina I, Fan JX, Chen H, Pangga I, Vera Cruz C and Mew TW (2003). Using genetic diversity to achieve sustainable rice disease management. Plant Disease 87(10): 1156–1169.

    Pingali PI (1994). Technological prospects for reversing the declining trend in Asia’s rice productivity. In: Agricultural Technology: Policy Issues for the International Community (Anderson JR, ed), pp. 384–401. CAB International.

    Posani B (2009). Crisis in the Countryside: Farmer suicides and the political economy of agrarian distress in India. DSI Working Paper No. 09-95. Development Studies Institute, London School of Economics and Political Science. London. http://www.lse.ac.uk/collections/DESTIN/pdf/WP95.pdf

    Richharia RH and Govindasamy S (1990). Rices of India. Academy of Development Science. Karjat.

    Note: The only reliable data are given in Richharia and Govindasamy (1990), who estimated that about 200,000 varieties existed in India until the advent of the Green Revolution. Assuming many of these folk varieties were synonymous, an estimated 110,000 varieties were in cultivation. Such astounding figures win credibility from the fact that Dr. Richharia collected 22,000 folk varieties (currently in custody of Raipur University) from Chhattisgarh alone – one of the 28 States of India. The IRRI gene bank preserves 86,330 accessions from India [FAO (2003) Genetic diversity in rice. In: Sustainable rice production for food security. International Rice Commission/ FAO. Rome. (web publication) URL: http://www.fao.org/docrep/006/y4751e/y4751e0b.htm#TopOfPage ]

    Singh RN (1989). Reaction of indigenous rice germplasm to bacterial blight. National Academy of Science Letters 12: 231-232.

    Tilman D, Reich PB and Knops JMH (2006). Biodiversity and ecosystem stability in a decade-long grassland experiment. Nature 441: 629-632.

    Winterer J, Klepetka B, Banks J and Kareiva P (1994). Strategies for minimizing the vulnerability of rice to pest epidemics. In: Rice Pest Science and Management. (Teng PS, Heong KL and Moody K, eds.), pp. 53–70. International Rice Research Institute, Manila.

    Wolfe MS (2000). Crop strength through diversity. Nature 406: 681–682.

    This article was published earlier in Independent Science News and is republished under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.

    Feature Image Credit: www.thebetterindia.com

  • Colonial taxes built Britain. That must be taught in lessons on Empire

    Colonial taxes built Britain. That must be taught in lessons on Empire

    UK government ministers want the British Empire’s benefits taught in schools. Don’t let them ignore the death and destruction it inflicted says Professor Gurminder K Bhambra. Her observation is equally if not more important for India and other erstwhile colonies. Britain and other European colonial powers not only looted and decimated Indian economy over three centuries of colonial interaction but their ruthless exploitation led to much of the poverty that has afflicted the global south ever since. This fact of history must be taught extensively in Indian schools. There are many who propagate the fallacy that the British empire was beneficial but the truth that it was ruthlessly exploitative must be taught and researched in a big way. The wealth of the West was built on built on exploitation of Africa, Asia, and Latin America. The West continues to dominate the global economic system and it is inherently exploitative. History teaching and research, from policy and science perspectives, are in dire need for elimination of Western bias.

     

    Recent weeks have seen a variety of UK government ministers – fromOliver Dowden to Kemi Badenoch to, most recently, education secretary Nadhim Zahawi – both extol the benefits of British Empire and urge the teaching of those benefits. This follows on from the government’s response to the Commission on Race and Ethnic Disparities, which set out the need for a new model curriculum for history which would advise schools on how best to teach these issues. This is all part of the government’s Inclusive Britain strategy which calls on us to acknowledge the rich and complex history of ‘global Britain’.

    In the spirit of this call, I offer one account of the complex, entangled histories of colonial taxation and national welfare that continue to shape modern Britain. Few people know that colonial subjects from the Indian subcontinent paid taxation, including income tax, to the British government in Westminster. Or that that taxation was used to alleviate the conditions of poorer people within Britain at a time when the working class and middle class here were exempt from paying income tax.

    Taxation – and the ways in which it is returned to citizens through welfare – is one of the main ways in which the ‘imagined community’ of the nation comes into being. That is, the relationship between taxes and welfare is part of the process of constructing institutions and the idea of the nation. If we were to recognise that this ‘imagined community’ was built not only through national taxes, but also colonial ones, then how might that change our understanding of what it is to be British today?

    My grandfather, Mohan Singh, was born in 1913 in a small village in the Punjab, in what was then British India. He was four years old when his father, Gurdit Singh, died and 17 when his uncle, Harnam Singh, who had been supporting him, also passed away. My grandfather had planned on attending the Government College in Lahore, but – needing to support his mother and younger sister – he instead spent six months training as a boilermaker. He then got married to Pritam Kaur and travelled to Calcutta to work in a variety of factories, engineering works and rolling mills.

    In 1942, he travelled to the British colony of Kenya – bringing his family over later – and worked for 18 years at the East African Railways and Harbour Company. He spent the last two decades of his life in the UK, working at Chalvey Engineering in Slough as a sheet metal worker before retiring at the age of 65 in Southall, west London.

    Calls to ‘go home’ have been the refrain of right-wing opponents of immigration from at least the 1970s

    Mohan Singh criss-crossed three continents during his lifetime, but he never left the jurisdiction of the British Empire. In his application for registration as a citizen of the UK and Colonies – in the aftermath of the British Nationality Act of 1948 – he wrote: “I was born in British India.” He further noted that he lived and worked in India and Kenya, two countries that were colonies of Britain. It was these connections that confirmed his citizenship and gave him the right to travel to and live in Britain. He duly exercised those rights but, on arrival, he had them called into question by the local population, who were either unaware of them or indifferent.

    Calls to ‘go home’ have been the refrain of right-wing opponents of immigration from at least the 1970s – as well as having been plastered on the sides of vans as part of the UK government’s ‘hostile environment’policies of recent years. They are also implicit in an influential body of scholarly work oriented to questions of belonging and entitlement that argue for priority in public policy to be given to the ‘white working class.’ This is on the basis of them being ‘insiders’ who have contributed through their taxes to the wealth that is disbursed through welfare.

    Former colonial subjects, like my grandfather, are regarded as immigrant outsiders even when they come to the metropole carrying passports of British citizenship. They are not seen to have contributed to the wealth of Britain by paying taxes and they are regarded as unfairly gaining access to the national patrimony. As Geoff Dench, Kate Gavron and Michael Youngwrite in ‘The new East End’: “As newcomers, their families cannot have put much into the system, so they should not be expecting yet to take so much out.”

    Britain established direct rule over India after suppressing the 1857 Indian Mutiny (also known as the First War of Independence). In 1860, it implemented an income tax upon colonial subjects, in part to pay for the costs associated with those revolts. Initially, a 2% rate was imposed on those earning between 200 rupees and 500 rupees a year and a 4% rate on those earning above 500 rupees annually.

    Famine Genocide 1876-1879 in British Raj Madras, India. Credit: Wikimedia Commons

    The arrival of the British in India – first via the English East India Company and then through direct rule – had brought endemic famine across the subcontinent

    When my grandfather started work in the 1930s, the average wage for a skilled worker in British India was about 40 rupees a month. He was very unlikely to have paid income tax, however, as he would not have earned enough to meet the threshold, which by then was 2,000 rupees a year. Of the amount that was collected, around three-quarters went to the imperial treasury, with only one rupee in a hundred for local purposes. Local purposes included the building of canals and roads, but not the alleviation of poverty, not even in times of catastrophic famine.

    The arrival of the British in India – first via the English East India Company and then through direct rule – had brought endemic famine across the subcontinent. The 50 years after the implementation of the income tax saw one of the most intense such periods of famine, in which it is estimated over 14 million people died of starvation. This was in the context of grain being exported by rail from the famine regions (including to Britain) and colonial taxes continuing to be collected even in the worst-affected areas.

    In all cases, the demands of ‘sound finance’ trumped those of public health and the primary thing to be avoided was any idea that the poor in India should be maintained at public expense. Ensuring sufficient funds for the ensuing military campaign in Afghanistan – from the taxes paid by colonial subjects for local purposes – was of more importance than using those taxes to alleviate severe hunger and avert the deaths of millions.

    Here, we see quite clearly that the idea of the ‘imagined community’ created through taxation and its redistribution did not include colonial subjects. The taxes that Indians paid to the imperial treasury and to local provinces did not give them any entitlement to the redistribution of that income. Worse, any relief provided during famines was often dependent on undertaking hard labour in camps at a distance from a claimant’s locality.

    The most extreme instance was where the rations provided in return for heavy labour were scarcely above the level required for basic subsistence. The ‘Temple wage’ – named after the lieutenant-governor, Richard Temple, who brought it in – produced lethal results and, as Mike Davis notes in ‘Late Victorian Holocausts’, turned the work camps into extermination camps.

    The death and destruction brought about by the Empire were known at the time. In 1925, Harry Pollitt, the leader of the Boilermakers Union in the UK, stated that the British Empire was drenched in blood. This was in the context of debates at the Trades Union Congress in Scarborough, where a resolution was eventually adopted – by three million votes to 79,000 – against imperialism and in support of the right of self-determination of those who were colonised.

    Such sentiments, however, came up against more hard-nosed understandings concerning the utility of the Empire to those in Britain. As Labour foreign secretary Ernest Bevin proclaimed in Parliament in 1946, “I am not prepared to sacrifice the British Empire, because I know that if the British Empire fell … it would mean that the standard of life of our constituents would fall considerably.”

    Here, Bevin acknowledged that the life of all within Britain was enhanced as a consequence of Empire. However, Empire was overwhelmingly disastrous for the majority of people subject to it. Their standard of life fell considerably as a consequence of colonialism and the famines it produced and, in many, many cases, they lost their lives to it.

    One mode of survival was to move. This is why my grandfather moved from a village in the Punjab to train as a boilermaker in Lahore, before working in Calcutta, Nairobi and London. This is likely why his grandfather before him moved from famine-struck Orissa to Rajasthan to Punjab. These movements tend not to be seen to be part of the histories of Britain, global or otherwise, or of any consequence to understanding Britain or Britishness in the present.

    The forgetting of the Empire involves also the forgetting of the political community – colonial and postcolonial – that was constructed through taxation. Few in Britain today understand the extent to which national projects – from social welfare to cultural institutions such as country houses, museums, and galleries – have been enabled through the taxes paid by former colonial subjects. There is an urgent need for us to recognise our shared histories and account for them.

    One aspect of the ‘culture wars’ is the call to take the views of taxpayers into account when discussing ‘contested histories’. Samir Shah, the chair of London’s Museum of the Home, for example, argued that as heritage bodies are funded by taxpayers’ money, then the views of taxpayers – those he considers the silent majority – ought to be taken more explicitly into account. Given that both colonial subjects and their descendants paid taxes to the government in Westminster, then they/we also have a legitimate stake, in the government’s own terms, in how our shared history is represented. There is a benefit to the teaching of British Empire, but the reality is different from what these ministers suppose.

     

    This essay was published earlier in openDemocracy and is republished under Creative Commons Attribution – Non Commercial 4.0 International License.

     

    Feature Image Credit: The Irish Times

     

     

  • The power of poetry in politics and indigenous people of India

    The power of poetry in politics and indigenous people of India

    O ancestral spirits!
    How now do we escape,
    From the conspiracies of time,
    Concocted on the flames
    That from the sweltering earth rise?
    Where all is slowly being roasted alive,
    The air, the forests, and the soil,
    And man – in body and in mind?

    – Lament in Songs (Geeton Ke Bilaap) through Jacinta Kerketta

    A profound political philosopher of ancient Athens whose administrational academics left people in admiration and aghast protested against poets and critiqued poetries. He feared the passion or public emotion evoked by poets, and he reckoned that rational thought could be ravaged by public passion.

    “For a poet is an airy thing, winged and holy, and he is not able to make poetry until he becomes inspired and goes out of his mind and his intellect is no longer in him.”

    ― Plato

    Poetry is one of the ancient art forms, the earliest kinds of poems were recited and passed on orally before the evolution of scripts. Administrative and ancestral accounts were more merely to remember due to the poem’s rhythmic and repetitious nature.

    Influence of poetry in politics

    Through triumph and terror or from pain to power, poetry allows people to paint different shades of human emotions. Poetry has served as a significant tool to convey meanings and messages since the beginning. It is also used as a channel to cast awareness on sound socio-economic concerns and personify political questions. Poems play a pivotal role in collective resonation to specific themes and it embraces the efficiency of words which could be serene as a sea or sharp as a sword.

    In the year 1821 Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote eloquently in his essay A Defence of Poetry that the poet creates humane values and imagines the forms that shape the social order and“Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.” Political poetries pave a path to discuss injustice in the societies and build a bridge between the emotive expression of the state administrators and its citizens. Political poetries are not definitive they are not bureaucratic blueprints or literary balms either, they imprint the cyclic endurance of the past, present, and future. They massively represent the public’s fear and anguish or equip the endangered with empowerment.

    Adrienne Rich compellingly stated in a commentary that –

    “I’m both a poet and one of the “everybodies” of my country. I live with manipulated fear, ignorance, cultural confusion and social antagonism huddling together on the faultline of an empire”.

     

    Profile and position of indigenous people of India

    Histories have created many poets and many poets have influenced histories, traditionally archiving their histories through songs, folklore, and myths. Adivasis have aced their way through their ancestral accounts accumulation. Adivasis are folks who function their lives through flourishing flora and fauna encapsulated with enriching cultures and practices and lives among the areas of the Indian sub-continent. Adivasi is a common term that was coined in the 1930s to address the indigenous groups of India, while the legal term ”scheduled tribes” is used in the constitution. They are the most prehistoric inhabitants of the sub-continent who are a heterogeneous group with diverse ethnicity and linguistics. Post the Aryan intervention the Adivasis began to trade with people of the plains, it was during the mid-eighteenth century that the indigenous people of the east revolted against the political British and its intrusive regulation upon the mainlands of the indigenous folks.

    This renounced the defenceless position of the land and its people. Even, today the Adivasis encounter various forms of social discrimination, political power lash, and remain economically stagnant.

    Balance between battles and banquets- Political poetries of the past and the present

    Songs, myths, and folklore revolving around landscapes, political relations among the Adivasis or with the non-Adivasis, human emotions were all oral histories being passed on to the next generation. The stories of Adivasis were massively written by people who did not belong to the Adivasi community, the literary endeavours of the tribes were not adequately acknowledged due to the lack of recognition of languages amongst the state. The poems written by the poets or writers of the community have an extensive influence over the political lives of Adivasis in terms of the political periphery.  In most poems by the Adivasis, the muscles of metaphors were majorly merged with nature or the environment. The largest of them are written in their indigenous languages like Kotas, Santali, and Ho & others where some are translated to other vernacular languages and some are not. Many political poetries raise questions against the havoc harboured by a biased notion of “progress”. The following are a few poetical works of indigenous people of India which brought out Adivasi’s political proximity.

    The editor of Chandini Magazine, Susheela Samad was one of the earliest Adivasi writers in the 1920s, where two of her poetry were published in the 1940s. In the year 1960 several stories of Alice Ekka were published in the Adivasi Patrika who was also the first female Adivasi writer.

    The very famous Temsüla Ao an Ao Naga tribal poet and an ethnographer who worked on Oral histories published plenty of poetry from 1988 to 2007 shedding light on the word “song” in all her titles emphasizing the essence of poems in tribal song culture and expressing the voices of her community against land & cultural alienation.

    Referring to the violence in the valley, the poet says

      ” But to-day

       I no longer know my hills,

       The birdsong is gone,

       Replaced by the staccato

       Of sophisticated weaponry. ” (“My Hills” 19-23)

    The poet laments the loss of peace and verdure in her region.

    The director of Adivasi Bhasha Shodh Sansthan (Tribal Language Research Institute) Ushakiran Atram is a Koitur poet and a writer who held compelling narratives on patriarchal injustice and political vocalization from a woman’s scope of the lens.

    “Bata maan, main kiski hun? Baba-Bhaiya ki? Mere Shauhar ki? Sawkaar-Ranger-Patil ki? Jameendaar-Darzi-Sonaarki? Kiski hun main?”—Tell me, mother, whose am I? Father’s or brother’s? My husband’s? Moneylenders-Rangers-Patils? Landlords-Tailors-Goldsmiths? Whose am I?

    the mentioned poem is from one of her books named ‘Motiyarin’ A Gonti term which means a position given to a woman leader who supervises the overall activities in Gotul.

    “Unless you speak their dialect, you’re an outsider,” says Lakshmanan who accompanied Tamil Nadu Pazhankudi Makkal Sangam, a movement that worked for indigenous welfare. In 2010, he also wrote an anthology of poems titled ‘Odiyan’ which means the evil spirit through which he paints the colours of pain and anguish of the Irular community which was partly in their language.

     

    Jacinda Kerketta a young poet and a journalist of the Oraon tribe raises questions about the standpoint on “development” on tribal lands, In the poem “Oh Shahar” (Oh City) she writes

    Leaving behind their homes,

    Their soil, their bales of straw,

    Fleeing the roof over their heads, they often ask,

    O, City!

    Are you ever wrenched by the very roots?

    In the name of so-called progress?

    The author brings out the intensity of anthropocentrism imposed upon the Adivasi arena and all her poems do not victimize their position instead evokes thought-provoking questions.

     

     

     

    Recently, Arivu a resounding rapper and a political poet brought out many problematic political practices of history and the present against his community through his album called ‘Therukural’ (voices of the streets), and in 2021 the song “Enjoy Enjaami” which is a blend of Rap and ‘oppari'(lament song sung during mourning )took over the stage of multi-media, the artist poetically and politically protested in all his works intending to enlighten the traces of civilization before caste and issues of inequality.

     

     

     

    Waharu Sonavane, a Bhilli poet and an activist whose “Stage” was an icebreaker that questioned the leadership of a major movement – Narmada Bachao Andolan and indigenous representation in bearing the torch.

     

     

     

     

    Will the mainstream history intersect Adivasi’s ancestral accounts? or will they contradict? Poetical poems fade along with time, they lose their essence of eventual happenings but strikingly hold the public psychology of the period. Political poems of indigenous tribes of India pose their position into viewing history from a different lens – meaning to revisit the history not just from conventional collectives but also to learn from our oral archives, songs and stories.

    The following poem was written by Waharu Sonavane; translated by Bharat Patankar, Gail Omvedt, and Suhas Paranjape –

    Stage

     We didn’t go to the stage,

    nor were we called.

    With a wave of the hand

    we were shown our place.

    There we sat

    and were congratulated,

    and “they”, standing on the stage,

    kept on telling us of our sorrows.

    Our sorrows remained ours,

    they never became theirs.

    When we whispered out doubts

    they perked their ears to listen,

    and sighing,

    tweaking our ears,

    told us to shut up,

    apologize; or else…

     

    Feature Image Credit: www.climatescorecard.org

  • Dagshai And Kasauli – The Afghanistan Connection

    Dagshai And Kasauli – The Afghanistan Connection

    With Afghanistan, the Taliban, and the for-ever conflict grabbing the headlines across the world over the last few months, it is well to recognise that the histories of India and Afghanistan are intertwined from time immemorial. Anand Sethi digs into the 19th and 20th-century history to bring out some fascinating connections between Dagshai in Himachal Pradesh and Afghanistan – Team TPF

    The Automatic Teller Machine (ATM) in Dagshai Cantonment is quite unique. Set up some 14 years ago at the instance of a dynamic Commanding Officer of the then Gorkha Rifles Battalion stationed in Dagshai, the ATM is housed in a smallish, stand-alone, colonial-era stone-built sloped roof hutment which most likely served as an extension of the kitchen facilities for a cluster of similarly constructed nearby barracks. It is quite unique. It communicates with the infrastructure by means of a huge, floor-mounted, satellite dish antenna. Given the nearly non – existent banking facilities, this ATM has served as our ‘go-to’ facility to withdraw cash for our personal expenses during the exasperating COVID times!

    On normal working times and days, with the troops busy with their official duties, there is usually only a rare person ahead of one at the ATM. Social distancing is the least of the problems here. However, on this particular day a few months back there were two persons ahead of me to use the ATM. This prompted a little ‘walkabout’ to while away the time and to maintain social distancing. While returning I noticed that there was some inscription or lettering on a whitish background near the top of the hutment but quite obscured due to the collection of grime, mud, rainwater stains that had accumulated over many years. Upon completing the ATM transaction I managed to clamber up and did a vigorous cleaning of the inscription.  What emerged was the signage: ’40 A GHAZNI LINES’. This was quite incredible! There has never been any mention of Dagshai having had a ‘Ghazni Lines’. Certainly not in any maps or documents painstakingly collected over the years by me for our ‘Dagshai Jail Museum’. Evidently, some Regiment(s) had gone from Dagshai to fight in the battles at Ghazni during the Afghan wars (or stationed in Dagshai afterward), received their ‘Battle Honours’ there.

    Research conducted indicates that no formations linked with Dagshai were involved in the Battle of Ghazni (‘Ghuznee’) in September 1842. However, two Regiments with clear Dagshai connections were very much in the ‘Battle Order’ during the First Battle of Ghazni in July 1839 (Gen. Sir John Keane versus Hyder Khan). Both received the Ghazni Battle Honours. One was the 1st Bengal Fusiliers who had been stationed in Dagshai during the tumultuous period of 1856 – 57. They of course had the dubious distinction of having as one of their Officers the ‘infamous’ (Brevet) Major William Hodson (whose portrait hangs amongst the ‘infamous Dagshaiites’ in our Jail Museum), the one who in 1857 apprehended Bahadur Shah Zafar and killed the royal princes. However, it is somewhat doubtful that the 1st Bengal Fusiliers had the Ghazni Lines in Dagshai named after their Battle Honours. The unit was away from Dagshai for a large part of their stay doing duties in and around Delhi during the 1857 ‘troubles’.

    The most likely formation to have the Ghazni Lines in Dagshai named after them would thus be the 2ndRegiment of Foot (Queen’s Royal West Surrey – the Queen, in this case, being Queen Catherine of Braganza, wife of King Charles II), presently operating as the Princess of Wales Royal Regiment.  This was the second senior-most line Regiment (after the Royal Scots) in the regular British Army. (The 1stBengal Fusiliers, on the other hand, was a formation of the East India Company’s Army, during their Dagshai stay). They were first garrisoned in Dagshai in 1870 -71. They not only took part in the 1839 battle at Ghazni but also got Battle Honours at the Battle of Khelat later that year. The Regimental History of the 2nd Regiment of Foot carries this interesting piece – “The formidable Ghazni fortress protected by thick 60 feet high walls prevented a major problem especially due to the lack of heavy artillery. The capture of Ghazni fortress was made possible only because Mohan Lal, a Kashmiri interpreter, spy, and assistant to the Political Officer Captain Sir Alexander Burnes, managed to discover that one of the gates to the fortress was somehow left poorly defended”. An interesting trivia about the 2nd Regiment of Foot – they were the only British Regiment where the Officers were allowed to remain seated while drinking the Loyal Toast to the Monarch. Apparently, this was so because the Regiment had been attached to the Royal Navy for a period of time and adopted the Navy’s tradition of sitting!

    The case for the 2nd Regiment of Foot for having set up Dagshai’s Ghazni Lines gets strengthened by the fact that they returned to Dagshai for the period 1895 – 96.  The Regiment went back to fight in Afghanistan in 1897, this time in Tirah (now in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Pakistan) before being garrisoned in Peshawar in 1902. They returned to Dagshai in 1916 for a short third spell in the garrison.

    Arguably, the Regiment with Dagshai as well as old Afghanistan links would be the Gordon Highlanders (earlier the 92nd Regiment of Foot). First stationed in Dagshai in 1860, the Regiment acquired as their Regimental Tune (still is the Regimental Tune and my mobile phone caller tune), the now-classic Pipes and Drums composition “Dagshai Hills” in 9/8 format march by the famous John Wallace. The Gordons fought in the Second Afghan War (1878 – 80) and saw action at Charasaib, Sherpur, and Kandahar where they took part in a winning battle after marching 320 miles from Kabul in just 23 days.

    The greatest battle achievement of the Gordons, however, was at Dargai (near Tirah and now part of Pakistan’s Kabul Pakhtunkhwa). In 1897 the heights at Dargai were held by a strong contingent of Afridi tribesmen. As part of the Tirah campaign, at the time the 21 valiant soldiers of the 36th Battalion (Now 4th Sikhs) of the Sikh Regiment were putting up their heroic stand at Saragarhi, the Gordons were tasked to capture the Dargai height at all costs. On October 20th, 1897 the Gordon Highlanders, with their flanks protected by the Gurkhas and Sikhs, attacked the Afridi-held hilltop redoubt. Despite numerous attempts, the Gordon’s were unable to take the height and had suffered numerous casualties. The Commanding Officer called out to his Pipers, led by Sergeant Piper George Findlater to keep playing ‘Dagshai Hills’ until the hill was taken. Findlater, despite being shot all over his body and bleeding profusely kept on playing the Regimental Tune until Dargai Hill was captured.

    For his extraordinary valour, Piper Findlater was awarded the Victoria Cross which he received in person from Queen Victoria. A huge painting to commemorate this famous battle hangs in the Officers Mess room of the Gordon Highlanders in Aberdeen, Scotland.  A large replica is available to view in our Dagshai Jail Museum along with other exhibits related to the Gordon Highlanders. The Pipe Bands of every formation that gets posted to Dagshai learns to play ‘Dagshai Hills’ and is played at the beginning of the Army Band display at the annual ‘Dagshai Concert’.

    Several of the formations garrisoned in Kasauli (then ‘Kussowlie’) also took part in the various Afghan Wars. Most notable amongst these were the Somerset Light Infantry (action at Jalalabad), 9th Regiment of Foot – Norfolks (action at Kabul), 66th Regiment – King’s Royal Rifles (action at Maiwand), and the 8thKing’s Regiment of Foot (action in the Kurram Valley). However, Kasauli’s Afghanistan connection is predominantly that of the famous Warburton family.

    During the First Afghan War in 1839 when the Bengal and Bombay Divisions of the East India Company (‘John Company’) Army along with some formations of regular British Army troops in India, in support of the ousted Shah Shuja, attacked Afghanistan in an attempt to retake Afghanistan from the ‘usurper’ Amir Dost Mohammed Khan’s forces and their allied tribal warriors.

    Amongst the ‘John Company’ troops was a 27-year-old Lt. Robert Warburton of the 6th Battalion, Bengal Foot Artillery. During the war, Lt. Robert Warburton found himself imprisoned in an Afghan lockup near the famous Buddhist site of Bamyan. A young lady named Shah Jahan Begum Durrani, a niece of Shah Shujah as well as that of Amir Dost Mohammed Khan was married (apparently against her wishes) to Sardar Faiz Talab Khan, a senior advisor to Dost Mohammed, and had a son (named Jahandad Khan) born from him in August 1840. Dost Mohammed and Faiz Talab Khan fled Kabul late in 1839 as the British troops advanced. Dost Muhammad was later to be exiled to Mussoorie.

    What ensued seems like scenes from a potboiler Hindi movie. Apparently, Shah Jahan Begum had met Lt. Robert Warburton in Kabul before she was married off. Clearly, as it turned out, Shah Jahan Begum had already become fond of Robert and this may have been the reason that she was hastily married off against her wishes. With her husband, Sardar Faiz Talib Khan having left along with Amir Dost Mohammed, Shah Jahan Begum managed to get hold of a few of her Durrani tribesmen and went hastily to Bamyan.

    At Bamyan, she and her Durrani followers somehow managed to free Robert Warburton from custody and hastily fled, escorted by the Durrani tribesmen. Somewhere during this daring escape, in November of 1840, Lt. Robert Warburton and Shah Jahan Begum got officially married. A son (also named Robert Warburton) was born to them in July 1842 whilst they were still holed up in Ghilzai (aka ‘Khilji’) fort. By early 1843 the four of them, Lt. Warburton, Shah Jahan Begum, Jahandad Khan, and little Robert Warburton) somehow managed to sneak into Peshawar. On arrival in Peshawar Lt. Robert Warburton officially adopted young Jahandad Khan and had him renamed John Paul Warburton.

    In 1864 John Paul Warburton joined the Punjab Police. Over the next few years, he had a spectacular career as a highly efficient Police Officer busting many criminal gangs and putting into jail scores of offenders. For his efforts, John Paul Warburton (aka Jahandad Khan) became popularly known all across Punjab as ‘Button Saheb – Controller of Devils”. From 1864 through 1900 when he retired, ‘Button Saheb’ had successful postings at Karnal, Delhi, Ludhiana, etc. In a rare eulogy, the famous Rudyard Kipling wrote – “He is supposed to have the gift of invisibility and executive control over many devils.” Needless to say, Kipling’s character Strickling (“Plain Tales From The Hills”) is based on Button Saheb. The then government in appreciation of his services gifted John Paul Warburton a large piece of land in Gujranwala District. This town with its own mainline railway station still exists in Pakistan as ‘Warburton’.

    From 1900 through 1909 Button Saheb served as the Special Advisor to the Patiala State Police with the rank of Inspector General. On his finally quitting service in 1909 John Paul Warburton along with his family came to live in Kasauli after having acquired ‘Gilbert House’ (presently the residence of the Brigade Commander and the former home of the historic figure  Maj. General Walter Raleigh Gilbert. In 1919 Button Saheb tragically died in the driveway of ‘Gilbert House’ after he fell off his favourite horse which had been ‘disturbed’ by his grandchildren and friends playing nearby.

    John Paul Warburton and his wife Mary Meakins had seven children. His youngest son’s (Robert Paul) granddaughter, Pamela Warburton (aka Durrani Warburton) was the last of the family to occupy ‘Gilbert House’. Old-time residents of Kasauli still talk about the regal style that Durrani Warburton lived in and especially about her going around Kasauli in an ornate Rickshaw pulled by fully liveried bearers.

    Durrani or Dani Warburton occupied ‘Gilbert House’ in Kasauli until 1943. She never married but was reputed to be a spectacular tennis player having been Punjab Singles Champion five times. Durrani Warburton did yeoman community service through the years of World War II and for her efforts was awarded the title of ‘Kaiser –i- Hind’.

    The senior Robert Warburton died in Peshawar on Nov. 10th, 1863. Button Saheb’s half-brother, Col. Sir Robert Warburton Jr, KCIE, also joined the Royal Artillery. Later he went on to found the ‘Khyber Rifles’ and died in April 1899 in Kensington, London.

    Needless to say, there have been other individuals and families that have Dagshai / Kasauli – Afghanistan connections. Most notably of course being Rudyard Kipling and the three redoubtable Lawrence brothers. But let this wait for another piece someday.