Monday, February 04, 2013

Flowering Awakenings and Fiery Uprisings

Transfixed by the searing sight of a tiger, William Blake asks this being, "Did He who make the lamb make thee?" It seems that in the poet's mind, the lion and the lamb seem to have together lain, before parting as images of striding terror or slinking fright into the landscapes of the mind. The beseeching call of peace and the emboldening calls to war, are both voices to which words were lent by the same poet and made memorable by the musicians of the time. It is the words of the acclaimed thamizh poet Vairamuthu that shape the much-hummed and foot-tapping tunes of both the benediction for peace that is veLLai pUkkaL (kannaththil muththamiTTAl, 2002) and the bellicose anthem that is thuppAkki engaL thOLilE (viShvarUpam, 2013). There are no verbatim translations or even full-length transcreations in this piece, because doing so would require a studied revisiting of lyrics rather than an unforced reflection of what truly lingers even after a casual hearing, and would be less in keeping with the experience of so many listeners to whom an understanding of the human condition that suffuses these songs, is conveyed more musically than lyrically.

Vairamuthu paints his picture of Peace on Earth in veLLai pUkkaL by restraining the exotic vibrant tones which effuse effortlessly at his command. Having only the charred easel marred by jarred hues that a warring world presents, he chooses instead to give utterance to the untinged white of blossoming innocence. He offers no sights and sounds of the victory of Peace with anything like the gaiety of festooned revelry over hoarded spoils, but asks only for a yielding to the unspoken, unsung and unembellished comfort of a place called home. This joy of being truly home in silence, is to him something to which nothing can add, neither the wizardry of a poet or the virtuosity of a musician. Is all Art then worthless, or worse still, an infliction? What one hears in the poet is anything but such resignation, but an admission that what even the most effusive art yields and yields to, is a fulfilled and aware silence.  It is from this silence that every poet's voice is borrowed and it is to this silence that any understanding of the poet's thoughts is owed. Not squandering the night's precious silence, nor indifferent to the awaited dawn, the poet takes care not to let the eloquence of his dream stir undisturbed innocence from its sleep. Enchanting as his vision of a New Dawn is, he makes it neither the chant of a sleepless vigil nor a spurring hymn to hasten the unready, but holds it unforgotten as the loving welcome he has prepared for anyone who feels rested enough to savour the sunbeams.

The tremulous, trailing tones of veLLai pUkkaL are as fitting to a mellow twilight, as the staccato cadences of thuppAkki engaL thOLilE are to twilights streaked by flaming torches, stillness shattered by crackling bonfires and night skies ripped by flares. The song makes heard through the spring in the singing soldiers' steps, the sprightliness of youth that refuses to be stifled even by the spitefulness of their mission. In the unerring pace of this song  there is an assured reckoning that belies a berserk charge, and there is a compelling beckoning that belies a bitter end. The leaping tongues of this anthem are of the youthful indignation that takes but a spark to rouse but may take an all-consuming deluge to douse. In the soldiers' songs, words are few: used sparingly like ammunition, unused except when ordered, loosed unquestioningly on orders, and unsparing in the treatment of whoever is declared the Enemy. A soldier's word, defended to the death, is too dear to be spent on such things as an explanation for why their war is a just one, because questions, like sleep, are a luxury that the battlefield does not afford. The night maybe another inspiration for the poet, but to a soldier, its every minute is an added insult to the injury of a justice delayed, which keeps him and his comrades condemned to the shadows and disinherited of daylight. To a wronged warrior to whom justice is not promised on waking or available for the taking without a fight, the night coming in the way too becomes something he is at war with.

War of some kind is the grim back-drop for both songs, be it a scorched-earth struggle for self-determination in an island homeland in the first, and a 'holy war' waged in the name of holy lands in the second. Both songs are a wistful and sobering reminder of how, during a time when gaining a foothold for civilization beyond Planet Earth ought to be less and less implausible a dream, a home on this very Earth remains a distant dream for so many human beings. Civilization from the soaring vantage of a poet is but one more efflorescence of humankind; and from the single file of the soldier is hardly heard of, because it is only those who aren't marching that see any end greater than the Nation or Kingdom to whom the fighters are pledged. 

Civilization, however, is just a scholar's word for the homes and neighbours that make it. Few of us are poets but many more of us may yet be able to find within us one kind word of welcome that can make a stranger feel at home. Not many of us are soldiers but many more of us may yet be able to summon up from within ourselves what it takes to stand up for a neighbour denied his due. Whatever be our walk of our life and whether it crosses at all with the soldier's march or the poet's wandering, simple words of kindness and small acts of courage can make us the builders and defenders of civilization. Can we find in ourselves even a little of the poet's sensitivity and soldier's steadfastness to be home when we neither own it nor are near it, and be able to welcome strangers to share? The future of humankind may perhaps be imagined as one of extraterrestrial excursions, but before that, we cannot afford to let our shared imagination of what is 'home' be trapped in images of a villa in the jungle or a shining city on a hill. Humankind will be truly home, when we are able to make room for all and make a home for all, in the villa when possible and in the jungle when necessary, in the city when possible and in the hills when necessary.
***
Notes:
1. Transliteration of thamizh words is according to ITRANS.
2. The word 'transcreation' is used in the sense it was popularized by Prof. P Lal.



Sunday, July 22, 2012

The worth of creation and the creation of worth

The medieval Advaitic poet sadAshiva brahmendra asks:
kim vachanIyam kim avachanIyam kim rachanIyam kim arachanIyam?
sarvam brahmamayam re re sarvam brahmamayam!
The question raised by the poet, and its subsequent resolution or resignation, that resonates with a mystic and is reticent about workaday concerns, maybe rendered in words familiar to us as follows: 
"What is it that is worth reading into and recounting? What is it that is worth creating and writing about? The Greatest is all there is and all there will remain, and remain ever-growing. After all, and before anything else, This is all!"

To simply gaze upon the world and say that all that can be said about it is that 'This is all', leaves unanswered the aspirations of the artist and the scientist, who wish not simply to acknowledge the world,but to express or explain something about it. Neither expression or explanation seems to be the motive of the mystic, who seems content with a description of the world like 'This is all' or 'All is This', echoing in the rhetorical question, "What else could there be?". "What else could there be?" is far from a rhetorical question to an artist or a scientist, a question in which they see the beginning of a quest where a mystic sees an end. "What is worth understanding and what is worth creating? What is worth explaining and what is worth expressing? How did things come to be this way and what else could there be?", are questions of the scientist and artist that resemble sadAshiva brahmendra's question closely in letter but not in spirit. The Advaitic guide to inquiry into the world is 'nityAnitya vivekavichAra', a persistent questioning of what lasts and what doesn't, resembling in letter the scientific language of transformations and invariants, but not in keeping with the scientific spirit of viewing truths as provisional rather than transcendental. The Buddhist conclusion about the nature of the world is that the world bears the 'three marks of existence', 'anicca, anatta and dukkha', which can be thought of as impermanence, impersonality and incompleteness of desirability. This conclusion is compatible with the  lack of expectation in the contemporary scientist's mind of anything but a 'blind pitiless indifference underlying the Universe', but serves neither as a stimulus nor a resolution of ongoing scientific inquiry, or for that matter, the artistic endeavour to 'create meaning in a world where there is none'.

Though the priorities as well as the conclusions of the Vedantic Advaitins and the Buddhist Theravadins seem removed from those of art and science, preachers of both schools have not reserved judgment on these human endeavours, nor have they refrained from enjoining a certain attitude towards the arts and sciences in their followers. Here, we treat the word 'art' as subsuming in its meaning both 'practised skill' and 'chosen trade', and use the word 'science' in its usual sense subsuming all human endeavour seeking understanding of the observable Universe. The bhagavad gItA, a text held as authoritative by Vedantists, in Chapter 16 Verse 23 seems to recommend what would today be viewed as a conformist attitude towards art, if not downright censorship, by sanctioning only those kinds of creative endeavour that are circumscribed by the shAstras. The text's attitude towards what is Science today, can be glimpsed in Chapter 13 Verse 20 where there is an implicit belittling of inquiry into Nature rather than God, and then in Chapter 16 Verse 8 where is outright hostility expressed towards the human endeavour to understand the world in terms of Matter rather than Spirit and in terms of Chance rather than Providence. The centrality accorded in the bhagavad gItA to the shAstras, which refer to texts which to the orthodox represent both scientific conclusions about the Universe and rules of conduct for humanity, has historically meant that scriptural literalism (or overinterpretation) and hereditary professions (with resultant opportunity-denial) have greatly circumscribed Indian endeavour in the sciences and arts, both in antiquity and the medieval periods. Buddhism is, in principle at least, less restrictive on art and science, preoccupied as it is with the question of human suffering and choosing to comment on art or science only when these endeavours impinge upon suffering and well-being in some tangible way. We may, for instance, expect practising Buddhists to object only to that sort of artistic expression that causes tangible distress and hence departs from Right Speech in the Eightfold Path. In sum, it seems that mystics and preachers have more to say on the enforced limits on the arts and sciences, rather than on unexplored possibilities of the same.

Progress in any art of science depends on re-examining limits and re-imagining possibilities. In ancient scripture, the knowledge of these limits is dated and the imagination of possibilities beyond the ones realized, is scarcely even attempted. While a scientist's quest for Knowledge and an artist's response to Imagination are both indifferent to the limits known to the writers of scripture, there are nevertheless some limits which every conscientious scientist and creative artist is mindful of. The greatest minds are limited by life-span and attention-span, which in the course of history have respectively widened and narrowed with the generations, but will nevertheless remain finite, bringing to the questions of what to understand and what to create, both a seriousness and urgency so contrary to the mystic's indifference. In no generation could scientists of artists afford to ignore these perennial and pregnant questions with the mystic's 'This is All'. In our generation, the question manifests itself in the simultaneous presence of multiple claims on our attention and challenges to our discipline that limit both the potential quantity and quality of our productions; and of unprecedented access and availability of resources to facilitate readier production, wider presentation and safer preservation. Should our attitude towards exploration and expression be one of cheerful abandon since time is short and is more usefully spent doing than thinking; or should our choices be more considered and mindful of the fact that only our best must be bequeathed to an ever-lengthening posterity? Should we subordinate all our efforts to the creation of worth as measured by our peers or our forebears; or should we simply wholeheartedly celebrate the worth of creation for its own sake? These are questions to be always asked rather than ever answered, and certainly not to be dismissed as routine or as resolved by answers that are cursory or canonical, but, like any situation pregnant with possibility, deserving of gracious acknowledgment and mindful anticipation.

Saturday, October 01, 2011

Coming to terms with Gandhi's double legacy
-Countering the doublespeak of some contemporary Gandhians-


"Every parent leaves a double legacy", said Rabbi Susan Laemmle movingly in her nonagerian mother's presence, during her farewell speech at the University of Southern California's 'What matters to me and why' series. A lot of what we are thankful for is owed to our parents, but some of our regrets also seem traceable to their decisions, which in hindsight seem well-meaning but ill-advised. In the perpetually ongoing collective reappraisal of India's shared legacy, the Father of the Indian Nation, in the worldview of a restless generation without patience for long-winded hagiography, appears not as much a liberating figure to be emulated, but as a limiting figure to be transcended. The legacy of Gandhi, all too often, is caricatured in the popular discourse, either as an infallible commandment for all ages, by Gandhian revivalists; or as something to be casually condemned and discarded, by those with a more revolutionary temperament. In truth, the legacy comes with moral capital, the demand of its trusteeship and the need not just for earnestness but also of imagination to weigh its counsel against contemporary exigencies. 

Gandhi can be thought as a teacher of the ages who believed that example is better than precept and 'left as an exercise to the reader' from successive generations the full consequences of his moral demands. If we go by the criteria of good teaching offered by American novelist Gail Godwin who said, " Good teaching is one-fourth preparation and three-fourths pure theater", then Gandhi was someone who spent almost a full half of his life in preparation by self-examination and spent the rest playing with earnestness and lifelikeness the role thrust upon him by history. Whether he played the role to perfection and whether he has paid his dues in advance for the adulation that is still offered to him, is a question that inspires apologetics and iconoclasm in equal measure. The contents of the following compilation of FAQs have been reproduced from no-holds-barred debates from Facebook and elsewhere, and are an attempt to retrieve Gandhi's legacy from its self-proclaimed Gandhian usurpers and come to terms with both its rewards and challenges.

Q: Has Satyagraha ever worked in history? Wasn't even Indian Independence an outcome of extraneous historical forces like the World Wars?

A:
There are obvious pitfalls in attempting to establish the desirability or otherwise of Satyagraha as factual claims of some sort, because such attempts run the risk of either:


(i) founding themselves on the ‘moral authority’ of the originator, ‘civilizational roots’ of a society in which cases it reduces to an Argument from Authority, or,
(ii) citing historical instances as suggestive of inevitabilities and as guidelines for conduct in themselves, in which case it becomes a Naturalistic Fallacy.


If the Fallacy of the Single Cause applies when somebody solely credits Gandhi for the independence of India, it also applies in a way when armed insurrections elsewhere in the world are also treated as indispensable to later political dispensations in those places. The necessity of the principle of retributive justice (incidentally, also at the roots of the Judaeo-Christian ‘No atonement without blood’ idea) also seems not entirely defensible on purely historical grounds, especially when contemporary counter-examples can be found, like the Truth and Reconciliation Commissions of South Africa. 

Pre-occupations with ‘Satyagraha’ should not be allowed to limit the imagination regarding other modes of non-violent protest. We must obviously avoid the ‘Satyagraha or guerrilla-warfare’ false dichotomy. Having said that, if a historical association of a method with Satyagraha is not automatically sanctifying, such a historical association is not automatically damning as well! Guilt by Association is as much a fallacy as an Argument from Authority.

Q: If history is not a reliable guide for evaluating Satyagraha, what is?

A:

A society’s liberty to make non-violence a primal non-negotiable is neither necessitated nor precluded by an arguments of expediency or history. There is no reading of biography or history that can make the adoption of violence or non-violence objectively binding. A statement on the superiority of one over the other is not a factual claim, but quintessentially a value proposition. In Kantian terms, the recommended means of evaluation of such a statement is the categorical imperative. It is possible to construct an argument for non-violence based on the categorical imperative rather than any hypothetical imperative harking to its expediency or effectiveness (and it goes without saying that such arguments may even be constructible for stances that run counter to non-violence, as we had acknowledged the absence of objective binding here ).

The argument goes as follows. Kant stated the categorical imperative as ‘Act only according to that maxim whereby you can, at the same time, will that it should become a universal law.’ An alternative statement he provided is ‘Act in such a way that you treat humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of any other, always at the same time as an end and never merely as a means to an end.’ An evaluation of Satyagraha by these standards seems favourable in the main, though not conclusive. It seems desirable for the right to peaceful protest to be a universal rule rather than the right to bear firearms to be made universal and hence non-violence seems to score by the universalization requirement. As for treating humanity always as an end, Satyagraha makes the ‘reform of the oppressor’ as an end and even the apparent subsuming of the Satyagrahi’s self within a cause is entirely voluntary and hence not a violation of the categorical imperative.  

Q: Doesn't the very method of Satyagraha reek of a certain masochism and self-flagellation?

A: 
One may quite justifiably view the apparent masochism of a Satyagrahi with aesthetic distaste or even moral indignation. However, what we see as masochism occurs because people at a certain juncture of desperation will not balk at or stop short of seemingly self-destructive acts, even if there is no messianic demagogue orchestrating the self-flagellation as it were. The Satyagraha movement in India, egregious though the submissions to beatings in Dharasana may seem to you and others, nevertheless equipped a desperate people with an effective visual vocabulary, even though it may to contemporary eyes may seem an overly visceral vocabulary erring on the side of masochism. But in its absence there is no telling if people would have adopted an even more self-destructive vocabulary like Thich Quang Duc!


If readers will pardon the seemingly cynically calculative use of the expression, there is a tradeoff between shock-value and personal injury in methods of non-violent agitation meant to awaken consciences. While Satyagraha does not solve this tradeoff optimally by our standards it is conceivable why at a certain time and place this solution was found plausible. While Dharasana maybe an exaggerated application of the idea, the idea of ‘submission as protest’ i.e. willingly and visibly undergoing what the oppressors think as ‘inviting trouble’ is discernible even in modern protests. SlutWalks (Besharmi morchas) seemingly submit to the slurs spouted by the verbal oppressors and achieve a tradeoff between shock-value and personal injury (in terms of jeering and leering) in a manner that is more acceptable to contemporary sensibilities.

Q: Isn't the outcome of Satyagraha unjust if it spares wrong-doers their well-deserved punishment? Doesn't every lasting revolution involve a purge of some sort?

A: 
The Truth and Reconciliation Commissions in South Africa are a success story which I repeatedly cite because they are neither blank-cheque acquittals nor staged pardons where the parties will never again meet each other. For their remarkable resolution of the tradeoff between reparation and national integration, these Commissions are deserving of admiration, since we know how wrong a pre-occupation with ‘commensurate’ reparation can go in Mugabe’s Zimbabwe.


Nobody can deny the importance of Devil’s Advocates in a debate like this one. However it must be said that critics of Gandhi are not exactly a minority being shouted-out in today’s India. While this in no detracts from several valid criticisms, the preponderance of inveterate Gandhi-bashers in both the Indian Right and Left is hard to miss. A contemporary national trait which deserves being subjected to a Devil’s Advocate’s prosecution is the romanticization of radical overhaul with an increasing appetite for punishment which can be bloody if necessary. The perils of war-cry vocabulary are too insidious to not deserve tempering and hence the relevance of this position in the debate.

Action propelled simply by public outrage, and tacitly encouraging a worldview that public outrage itself is reason enough to demand certain legislation or punishment, and that enough outrage removes the onus of providing a convincing case, is obviously counterproductive. Turning to Egypt for a second, the trial of Mubarak is to be welcomed as long as it complies with the requirements of Egyptian law, but the atmospherics accompanying the trial are also worrying, given the rising din of war-cry vocabulary.  The possibility of an execution of the bed-ridden accused that does little to assuage world concerns that the Bastille-storming of Tahrir maybe followed by a quite real Reign of Terror, is a vitiation which young Egypt could do without, especially at a time when it needs world goodwill more than any other.


As can be seen, to what extent society must indulge and play to public outrage in exercising the law of the land itself is subject to judgments of prudence and expediency. If a Doctrine of Necessity of sorts can be cited in favour of exemplary punishment, a similar doctrine can in some occasions be cited in favour of commutation and clemency too according to very utilitarian considerations. In resolving the justice-compassion tradeoff, one can easily notice that neither the ‘retributionists’ nor the ‘reconcilers’ have a monopoly on pragmatism or idealism respectively. Arguments for clemency may well be guided by expediency too.

Q: Hasn't Gandhian naivete and atavism already been called out for what it is by the critiques of say, Dr. Ambedkar and Periyar? In an environment saturated with Gandhian hagiography and deification, isn't it these views that must receive more emphasis?

A: 
It is true that a debate on Gandhi's legacy and its contemporary relevance is a useful one to have. It is also true that such a debate will be more edifying if critics do not insist on stopping at nothing short of a complete disowning, disavowal and demeaning of Gandhi. Critiques of Gandhian methods such as the timely and still relevant ones by Dr. Ambedkar essentially emphasized caution against fetishizing disobedience and creating personality cults. One wishes that latter-day 'Gandhians' and 'Ambedkarites' had these arguments with the civility and mutual respect with which Gandhi and Dr. Ambedkar themselves corresponded, and sedulously avoid both sanctimony and acrimony.

One reading which maybe useful in this context is George Orwell's essay on Gandhi, which avoids the near-irresistible urges of commentators for either hagiography or bashing. In typical Orwellian fashion (and in what will be music to the ears of critics), he begins "Saints should always be judged guilty till they are proved innocent.


The reservations expressed by critics mainly have to do with the risk of uncritically appraising Gandhian methods but all-too-often, knee-jerk iconoclasm is mistaken to be a substitute for unbiased appraisal of the likes of Gandhi. Even for Gandhi's most controversial 'experiment with truth' featuring female inmates from his ashram, an expression like 'sleeping with grand-daughters' seems ill-advised if used without clarification, because even though these 'experiments' were admittedly coercive and potentially traumatic to participants, they did NOT involve incest of the sort the said phrase seems to convey.

We can again turn to Orwell for his take on Gandhi's propensity to undertake such punishing (to himself and others) experiments. Orwell's word for the same is simply 'inhuman' as against the normal human condition which he describes as follows: "The essence of being human is that one does not seek perfection, that one is sometimes willing to commit sins for the sake of loyalty, that one does not push asceticism to the point where it makes friendly intercourse impossible, and that one is prepared in the end to be defeated and broken up by life, which is the inevitable price of fastening one’s love upon other human individuals.

Therein may lie Gandhi's otherwordliness which may cause some unease, but does it detract from the relevance of his demonstrable contributions to human rights activism?

Q: Isn't Gandhi's almost pathological emphasis on self-denial with egregious experiments of celibacy obviously atavistic and counter-productive?

A: 
It is obvious that his pre-occupations with abstinence and fasts are major reasons why there are misgivings about the contemporary reception of Gandhian methods and why Gandhi is thought of as otherworldly or ‘out-of-touch’. But perhaps here too, Gandhi knew what he was doing.

Gandhi saw himself as an educator and a reformer and two of his goals where:(i) Encourage more participation of women in the political sphere (which is a very exploitation-prone environment now as it was then)(ii) Exhort the privileged classes to exercise greater social responsibility (which demanded methods to curb human tendencies for over-indulgence)

Gandhi, being the master communicator that he was, understood that in order to remove any intent of exploitation from the men in politics, a dramatic illustration of the seemingly unattainable ideal of total abstinence would make more of an impression than simple exhortations of right professional conduct. Likewise, the image of asceticism that fasting conveys seems harder to ignore than merely an editorial against ‘conspicuous consumption’. Whether intended or not, there was a method in this seeming hyperbolic madness, as these seemingly exaggerated symbols for communication exploit the Peak Shift Principle (explained by Dr. V S Ramachandran here ) and make allowance for the all-too-human tendencies to drift back into old behaviors without such dramatic motivation which may at first sight seem unrealistic (explained by Dr. Viktor Frankl here ).

The ‘purificatory’ value of fasting seems unconvincing in anything other than a metaphysical setting, but who can deny that repeated endurance tests can be very formative and that practice in exercising such resolve renders one likelier to honour commitments?

Q: Gandhi may have been well-meaning, but isn't the impact of Satyagraha overly glorified and exaggerated? How can we convince agitators in Kashmir or Palestine to give Satyagraha a chance?

A: 
The truism that 'Satyagraha sometimes works and often doesn't' has been belaboured often as an argument against Satyagraha. To say that Satyagraha sometimes works and sometimes doesn't is about as informative as saying that guerilla warfare sometimes works and sometimes doesn't. However, there is less harm in terms of bloodshed when Satyagraha is tried and failed than after a failed insurrection. The 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet maybe excoriated by young Tibetans for failing to secure full-enough autonomy for his compatriots, but history may still exculpate him as he is almost single-handedly responsible for forestalling the bloodshed of a guerrilla war. 


As for the people of Kashmir and Palestine, intifadas and jihads have had their chance for several decades and a trial with Satyagraha doesn't seem out of place since its most popular alternatives have been exhausted, the people concerned are left with so little to lose and there seems least harm in trying this than any other option! 

Q: Would Satyagraha have worked against the Nazis?

A: 
Thinkers like Amartya Sen recognize that Gandhi’s choice of method depended in large part on his recognition that the ‘British would eventually be amenable to the force of argument’. When the scope and applicability of Satyagraha is thus clearly spelt out at the very outset and when no claim of miraculously reforming every genocidal maniac is made in the first place, one wonders why there is always a reflexive ‘It-would-not-have-worked-with-the-Nazis’ reaction in any conversation on Satyagraha.


An often ignored historical point is that the full horrors of the concentration camps were not known to or realized by the wider world until after the liberation of these camps by allied forces and the reports of journalists like the BBC’s Richard Dimbleby. Would history have taken a different turn if the world had been forced to notice of these horrors sooner by the actions of a Jewish Thich Quang Duc?

It is difficult to say in hindsight, but quoting this talk by Julia Bacha : “Violent resistance and non-violent resistance share one very important thing in common; they are both a form of theater seeking an audience for their cause. If violent actors are the only ones getting front-page covers and attracting international attention to the Palestinian cause, it becomes very hard for non-violent leaders to make the case to their communities that civil disobedience is a viable option in addressing their plight.” 

Would the history of twentieth-century Europe been different if the journalism of the time, besides war-reporting had devoted more resources to investigative undercover reporting from the concentration camps?

It is in the context of the above questions that Gandhi’s stance on this issue, which George Orwell in his essay quoted above, acknowledges as honest even if causing a reaction of disbelief in us, must be evaluated. Quoting from Orwell’s essay:
According to Mr. Fischer, Gandhi’s view was that the German Jews ought to commit collective suicide, which “would have aroused the world and the people of Germany to Hitler’s violence.” After the war he justified himself: the Jews had been killed anyway, and might as well have died significantly. One has the impression that this attitude staggered even so warm an admirer as Mr. Fischer, but Gandhi was merely being honest. If you are not prepared to take life, you must often be prepared for lives to be lost in some other way. When, in 1942, he urged non-violent resistance against a Japanese invasion, he was ready to admit that it might cost several million deaths.

Q: Can we disagree with Anna Hazare and the methods of 'India Against Corruption' and still be genuine Satyagrahis?

A:  
If one wishes to stay true to the meaning of Satyagraha as 'holding fast to Truth', one must begin with an acknowledgment of both our individual and collective limitations of apprehending truth in the first place. So many fundamental human weaknesses which obscure the true picture, namely 'hero worship' and 'herd instinct', are exacerbated in such heady times thanks to the frisson of overnight mobilization, and anybody seeking to 'hold fast to truth' must be wary of them. 


This is not about Anna, but about every one of his self-proclaimed supporters, many of whom may well be clinging obstinately to a chimera in the name of holding fast to an incompletely conceived 'truth', as it appears to their enraged and hence not fully reasonable selves. 

It is said often that a patriot must be willing to defend the nation against the government but is often missed that a patriot must also be willing to defend the nation against the mob. A Satyagrahi must hold fast to what is closest to truth according to their honest assessment, notwithstanding the pushing and shoving of an impatient mob. The honorific label of 'Satyagrahi' could well apply to an arch-Constitutionalist taking a principled stand of following due process no matter what. (Alas, there is no such towering figure now that we can look up to, but the point in bringing this up is to make the point that there can be very legitimate 'Satyagrahis' with a stance opposed to Anna's). India Against Corruption (IAC) has no monopoly on Satyagraha and no privileged position on 'truth'.

Any citizen in a democracy, before the ceding the right to pronounce upon truth to a sloganeering mob, must be willing to lend an ear to dissenting voices by well-meaning citizens holding fast to their convictions in their own way.

Q: How is Satyagraha relevant to me when I am neither a refugee nor an agitator nor someone who is directly oppressed in any way?

A: 
It is true that the chief case in favour of Satyagraha is that it empowers the weak to look the dominant force in the eye, and demand and get justice. Satyagraha education seems to have another benefit; it also sensitizes those among the strong to recognize injustices perpetrated by the establishment they are affiliated to, and abstain from such injustices even at the cost of some self-interest. A classic example is the support extended to the Civil Rights Movement in America by many conscientious individuals from across the racial divide, whom Dr. King magnanimously acknowledges and applauds in his I Have a Dream speech. The ‘conscientious objector’ is a sort of minority that can especially benefit from Satyagraha training. A contemporary case in point is the conscientious objection of personnel in the Israeli Defence Forces to the occupation of territories of the Palestinian people.












Tuesday, April 12, 2011

Redemption, re-imagined


The true cultivation of minds in a University happens not in fenced-off fields, but is sown where those coming from distant walks of life find their paths cross, and is enlivened by the bracing winds of cross-fertilization. "A cultivation of minds to what end?", one might ask. The Foundation Stone of the University of Southern California laid in 1879, proclaims that this cultivation is pursuit "dedicated to the search for and dissemination of Truth;to Freedom of Thought and discussion; to intelligent, unbiased analysis of the forces that have shaped the past and will mold the future, to the development of Manhood and Womanhood for Christian service and loyal citizenship".  'Christian' here is treated as synonymous with noble and the culturally contingent choice of the word is unsurprising, considering that the word 'Arya' is a synonym for 'noble' too in many Indian languages, while elsewhere in the world the same word carries alienating racial connotations. What does it mean to be 'Christian'  or for that matter to be noble, what does the Cross stand for and what do the symbols that move millions move them towards, are questions which perpetually seek revisiting and whose answers need to be perennially re-imagined. An apt and recent instance of the commitment of the University to promote 'intelligent, unbiased analysis of the forces' that move us as individuals and societies, is the ongoing art exhibition entitled "The Serpent and the Cross" conducted by the Office of Religious Life.


The call for student submissions for this event was addressed to "All USC students of any or no religious backgrounds", who were invited to, "submit original artistic expressions for consideration for inclusion in a public exhibit to be held in the Fishbowl Chapel of the University Religious Center from April 11-23 (the two weeks before Catholic and Protestant Easter)."  The announcement continued "The artworks can be in any medium and should be between 4 inches square and 3 feet square in size, and able to be displayed on a wall.  Each should be accompanied by a separate written description no more than 150 words in length, including the artist’s name and very brief bio. They should take the form of crosses that illustrate some way in which people today “crucify” themselves or others, individually or as a society.  Examples:  a cross made of pills (illustrating how people try to “save” themselves with drugs, but end up “crucifying” themselves instead), a cross made of bullet casings (illustrating how people buy guns to protect themselves, but sometimes end up causing more violence.)"


The exhibit which began yesterday, features besides the examples listed above, other striking images of contemporary crucifixions, crafted using the unlikeliest odds and ends, like a cross made from a pair of earphones outstretched in a silent lament about how technology that supposedly connects people actually ending up isolating them and a stark armature of crossed barbed wire making a forbidding image of border fences that supposedly guard nations but divide humanity.




(Please click on the images, if you would like a larger view)


A particularly telling exhibit was one in which Rev. James T Burklo, USC's Associate Dean of Religious Life, confronts with the dreaded "Kill or cure?" question the one resort of society that is zealously guarded from the trespass of doubt: Religion. This exhibit,entitled 'Crucified by Scripture" , is a cautionary collage of scriptural injunctions that have been the cause of much oppression, warning society how the most trusted Word can become the most feared war-cry or echo in the most cruel whip-lash.




My own offering for the exhibition was entitled "The Ersatz Credit Card Cross" and accompanied by the following statement: " The 'Ersatz Credit Card Cross' is built from the likenesses of real credit cards, from the reams of promotional junk-mail that we receive. These are cards that promise to deliver us from want by leading us into temptation. They promise that paradise is available for purchase on borrowed earnings. The wages of buying into their delusion of an ersatz paradise, is having to carry the cross of debilitating debt. The credit-card-fueled debt crisis is a monument to human folly, which has been recognized but indulged in for ages , heedless of sage counsel against it.  From one far end of the faith divide,we can hear the critical voice of Epicurus cautioning society against the consumerism of his time, saying that all that money can buy is of little worth compared to what really matters: friendship, freedom and the examined life. At the other end of the faith divide, the New Testament's Parable of the Talents speaks of how a servant who did not gainfully spend the gold entrusted to him, earned the wrath of his master. Worse than that servant, we in today's world end up earning the scorn of society unless we spend gold we don't yet have! "Ours is a story of a people persuaded to spend money we don't have on things we don't need to create impressions that won't last on people we don't care about!", says the economist Tim Jackson. This cross symbolizing the tyranny of consumerism, is placed against a backdrop of the dead-tree business-reply-envelopes which accompany this wholly avoidable paper-intensive marketing spree. Together, they tell a story of how we are living beyond our means, as individuals, as societies and as a species."



While the Romans employed the Cross to devastating effect as an instrument of repression, the early Christians re-imagined and recast it as a symbol of redemption. The contemporary crises we confront as individuals and societies demand a re-imagination of redemption, that is meaningful only if begun with a re-imagination of suffering. By re-imagining our suffering we might find meaning in it, which in itself is a redemption from despair, according to the counsel of Dr. Viktor Frankl who says "In some ways suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice." In the words of Albert Einstein, "Problems cannot be solved by the same level of thinking that created them.", and we can take it to mean that a redemption from our present suffering will continue to evade our imagination if it is limited by age-old convention and prejudice, and has the chance of occurring to us only if we dare to re-imagine the commonplace, what we were once numbed to. To imagine anew, needs a change from begrudging numbness to a sprightly innocence, like a childhood that is not reminiscent but relived. Peeping from behind the lines of artistry and the layers of allusions in the exhibits is a welcome childlikeness, where no pebble is just a pebble, no twig is just a twig and no cross is just a cross. "Lawyers I suppose were children once.", says the epigraph of 'To Kill a Mockingbird". So were pastors. So were grad students.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

We need hands that give, more than lips that pray!


"The hands that help are better by far than lips that pray." - Robert G Ingersoll (Declaration of the Free, 1889)


This post is dedicated as a contribution to Twestival India 2011 and is being submitted to seek aid for the Equal Community Foundation. To spread the word and participate, please visit the Give India page.



With so much suffering so close to home...
Heavenward should our piteous gaze stray?
Work beckons beyond the idol or dome... 
We need hands that give, more than lips that pray!

If both hands are joined in supplication...
The role of helping hands how can they play?
Not relying on divine intervention,
We need hands that give, more than lips that pray!

Right here and now our help is sought;
One human to another, all the way!
Wholly human, a miracle it's not!
We need hands that give, more than lips that pray!

To lend a hand or not, is in our hands!
What joy will a with-held penny pay?
It earns more if in the poor box it lands!
We need hands that give, more than lips that pray!

A penny that saves is a penny saved...
From expense, which from our welfare can stray!
Giving's a joy greater than thrills we craved,
We need hands that give, more than lips that pray!

Outside shrines too, you can find a poor box;
Charity is not fully under faith's sway!
On the doors of each heart, empathy knocks!
We need hands that give, more than lips that pray! 

To do our bit in helping those in need...
Into living hells we need not foray!
A mouse-click can be a life-saving deed...
We need hands that give, more than lips that pray!

When we can give in comfort, from our seats...
Is there an excuse for any delay?
Our own people's cry our help now entreats,
We need hands that give, more than lips that pray!

-Arvind Iyer (March 22, 2011)





Thursday, July 01, 2010

Wanting to see the world...

Wanting to see the world...
Before renouncing it...
My mind eagerly whirled...
Never letting me sit!


“Just show it what it wants!”,
One more voice in me said,
“Allow yourself some jaunts,
In a lulling soft tread!”


The lulled mind by me lured...
Was now much less restless.
This calm though, was secured,
By a pace more breathless!


If pace slowed the mind moaned,
Denied its feast of sights;
In mind's tow my limbs groaned,
Drained by these fancy flights!


“Just one more mile”, I thought,
“And that should be enough!”
The old urge though I fought,
Keeping my word was tough!


“To see more of the same,”
I ask my tired mind,
“Will you our whole life claim?
For ends you'll never find?”


The spent mind was silent,
And I could now sit still;
Though just for a moment,
I could muster my will.


In that moment I found...
That all I need is here!
But then somewhere around...
A stirring I could hear.


I told myself, “Stay still!”
But what did I just hear?
Now the mind will ask till
Its source is somehow clear.


Do I have everything...
That the stirred mind now seeks?
Or do I err sitting,
Unmoved when the World speaks?


Wanting to see this world...
Before renouncing it...
My mind eagerly whirled...
Never letting me sit!


So saying I look around...
And set out yet again...
Unseen sights still abound;
For things aren't where they'd lain!



-Arvind Iyer (1st July 2010)