H.L. Seneviratne, ed. Anthropologist and the Native: Essays for Gnanath Obeyesekare, Delhi, Anthem Press India, 2012
Language and Race in Colonial Representations of Indian Society and Culture, Partha Mitter, pp. 1-34 1934
The rapid and unprecedented spread of the Aryan myth in Europe must in part be attributed to the new role philology began to play in 19th-century intellectual life, growing from textual analysis into a discipline linking ethnology, history and geography. The linguistic group, Aryan, was enthusiastically adopted by the physical anthropologists as proof of the superiority of Europeans over other races, while comparative anatomists devised the cephalic index to establish the ideal Aryan man….—p. 21
The special interest of the student of Indian culture in the Aryan myth rests on the fact that it originated in India in connection with European discovery of Sanskrit, subsequently travelling to the West to reinforce emerging doctrines of race and nation, finally returning to India to provide the Raj arguments for and against Indian inferiority and backwardness….—p. 22
…for the Germans or for that matter the French, India was too distant and exotic for the argument that Indians were ‘blood relatives’ to be of more than academic interest. Because of its Indian empire, for the British, even to recognise the very possibility that Indians were of the same racial stock as themselves, seemed to threaten the sense of exclusiveness and superiority over their subjects demanded of the rulers….—p. 23
Set against this deep ambivalence about the Aryan myth among the British, colonial writers on Indian society and culture felt comfortable in identifying the lighter-skinned upper caste Hindus as the ‘fallen’ Aryans who nonetheless shared a number of European values….—p. 24
…he {James Fergusson} proposed that North Indian architecture represented the Aryan style inasmuch as South Indian architecture was Dravidian, a classification that ran counter to the historical development of Indian architecture, where no style can be attributed to an specific ethnic group (Fergusson, J. History of Indian and Eastern Architecture. London: J. Murray, 1876: 9 and passim)…..—p. 25
Hinduism meant for Fergusson all that was corrupt, degraded and fetishist….(Ferguson J. History of Indian and Eastern Architecture. London: J. Murray, 1876: 10-11)…..—p. 27
…Whilst India’s position was crucial in these works, the general feelings was that even though India was the ‘mother’ of the Aryan races, her contemporary backwardness precluded her from sharing the honours any more. The racist scholars presented the permanent and unchangeable character of different races where environment and history played only a secondary and subservient part—ideas still continued in our preset-day controversy regarding race and intelligence quotient….—p. 31
…I do not wish to give the impression that there was no truth whatsoever in the characterisation of Indian history as an interplay between Aryans and other ethnic groups. The evidence is convincing. The weakness of the nineteenth-century social thinkers lay in their failure to see a heterogeneous society such as India as reflecting a long process of mixture and assimilation in which different elements did not and could not remain pure. What these cultural historians did was not so much advance our historical understanding as to perpetuate the myth of a static society which was permanently separated into two racial groups, the Aryans and the master race and the Dravidian as their subjects, and permanently in opposition. Yet when these two races had ‘illicit’ sexual encounters it led to the irresistible decline of Indian society….(p.31) Pure races were a myth in India as elsewhere, but it was a beguiling and powerful myth that deflected these historians from investigating all the cultural contexts of Indian art and architecture.—pp. 31-31
When the Parampara Breaks: On Gurus and Students in the Mahabharata. John Nemec. Pp. 35-64
It merits nothing that, while the teachers that concern us in this essay primarily communicate the arts of war and transmit magical powers to be used in combat, they are nevertheless, more often than not, Brahmins and not members of the warrior caste.—notes, 4, p. 36
…Hopkins argues as much when he suggests that, while the Mahabharata was unaware of Manavadharmasastra as a complete, autonomous, and authoritative text, “the sastram [i..e, Manu] was in great part collated between the time when the bulk of the great epic was composed and its final completion” and “previous to its collation, there had existed a vast number of sententious remarks, proverbial wisdom” that “floated about in the mouths of people”, and as such were “drawn from the hearsay of the whole Brahman world”. See Hopkins, E.J. “On the Professed Quotations From Manu Found in the Mahabharata”. Journal of the American Oriental Society, 1882-85, 11, pp. 239-275. 1882-1885; 268.—notes. 10, p. 38
…The student must not argue with his teacher (p.38) (4.179-180), nor may he even tread on his shadow (4.130). Controlling his thoughts, disciplining his body (2.192-193), the student must show him utter deference, whether by eating food or wearing clothes of lesser quality (2.194), by occupying a lower seat (2.198), refraining from speaking to him while lying down (2.195), or by standing down from a vehicle before greeting him (2.202). He must never mock his teacher (2.199), and he must never abandon him. Loyalty is further measured by the company one keeps, for the student must avoid his teacher’s opponents (3.153) and absent himself from the company of those who mock him (2.200). Bearing all of these strictures in mind, it should be obvious that Manu proscribes the student from harming his teacher (4.162).—pp. 38-39
…The student is also linked ritually with the teacher and his family, as he must respect the rules of ritual purity when his teacher or members f the teacher’s family expire…..{See Manu, 5.80-81}—p. 39
…Manu’s extensive treatment of student errancy is justified by the idea that the guru is responsible for the karmic consequences of his student’s misdeeds, receiving the karmic fruits of his sins. {See Manu, 8.316-318}—p. 40
…Thus, certain caste-based taboos are recommended in Manu’s account of the institution of the guru.—p. 41
…in Manu, while his integrity is assumed, the guru is depicted as rather more a learned elite than a divine being, quite a contrast from the epic’s depiction of Krsna as a fully divinized teacher….Notes, 27, p. 41
The name Ekalavya can be translated ‘Gets one cut off’.—Notes 34—p. 43
…burrowed into the latter’s thigh…..—p. 45
…Manu considers misrepresentation of ones caste to be the equivalent of killing a Brahmin…{Manu 11.56}—p. 46
…Not only does Karna’s lie outweigh his heroic devotion, but also, like Drona with Ekalavya, Karna’s teacher is motivated by an agenda that relates only in the most general of terms to the student who is caught in its vortex. Indeed, under normal circumstances, Karna, as a ksatriya, would makean ideal candidate for a brahmin’s instruction.—p. 47
asvatthaamaa hata iti sabdam uccais cakaara ha| asvatthaameti hi gajah khyaato naamnaa hato ‘bhavat. (–Mahabharata, 7.164.72c-73b.)—notes 59, p. 49
…a king should punish even his teacher (acarya) for deviating from the law{dharma}…—p. 53
…however, the moral of the story is not quite so simple, particularly when one considers the content of Krsna’s teachings in the Gita in relation his role in the larger narrative of the Mahabharata, for, as has been mentioned, Krsna’s counsel is persistently transgressive of the law {dharma}. Despite all of his insistence in the Gita on the performance of ones own dharma for its own sake and without consideration for the fruits, Krsna in the Mahabharata consistently counsels Arjuna and the Pandavas with utterly practical ends in mind, even at the cost of obedience to dharma, and all in the name of ensuring a very real reward: control of the kingdom. Indeed, while considered an incarnation of Visnu, come to earth to preserve dharma, Krsna is perhaps the character that is most ready to counsel actions that transgress the law in the larger epic narrative.—p. 53
It is worth noting that the fact that Krsna offers such metaphysical instruction is doubly ironic: it is ironic that he offers a spiritual teaching to promote war, and it is ironic that Krsna, a ksatriya, offers such a teaching to a fellow warrior on the battlefield.—notes, 74, p. 53
…the law book condemns the teacher to suffer the fruits of his student’s sins….Under Krsna’s guidance, the Pandavas transgress dharma in small ways in order to protect the greater dharmic order, which will be provided by a Kuru kingdom justly ruled. Nevertheless, the dharmic transgressions do not go unpunished; only it is the teacher, and not his disciples, who suffer them.—p. 54
…In light of these two facts, Krsna’s support of the Pandavas—as well as the curse endured as a result of it—is perhaps better interpreted in light of the bhakti of the Gita, and not merely in relation to the institution of the guru. ‘Give up all duties (sarvadharma)”, exhorts Krsna, “and come to me, the only sanctuary. I will free you from every sin; do not despair”. {Mahabharata 6.40.66}Perhaps such (p.54) a role can be played only by a god and not a mere teacher….—pp. 54-55
…Bhisma’s vow, undertaken in loyal devotion to his father, set in motion the demise of his father’s kingdom.—p. 57
Matilal suggests that a moral dilemma arises “when the agent is committed to two or more moral obligations, but circumstances are such than an obligation to do x cannot be fulfilled without violating an obligation to do y”. In my view, this serves as an utterly appropriate definition of a moral dilemma in the Mahabharata. See Matilal, B.K. Moral Dilemmas in the Mahabharata. New Delhi: Indian Institute of Advanced Study. 1989:5-9.—Notes, 84, p. 57
The Living and the Dead: Ideology and Social Dynamics of Ancestral Commemoration in India. Patrick Olivelle. Pp. 65-73
…Not all dead relatives, however, are ritually considered ancestors. It is clear that death and kinship, although necessary, are of themselves not sufficient conditions for becoming an ancestor . Ancestorhood establishes a ritual relationship between the living and the dead, a relation-(p.65)ship that has significant religious, social, economic, and legal implications….—pp. 65-66
…In an earlier period, relatives who had become ascetics also were probably disqualified from being ancestors….—p. 66
…the literature of sraddha in medieval times began to include not only other relatives but also other beings, including gods.—p. 67
…Brahmanical ancestral rites are clearly not acts of worship, even though aspects of veneration and petition may be present in them. These rites are primarily intended for the benefit of the deceased ancestors, who are generally not considered divine or supernatural. The rites do establish ritual links between the living and the dead, but the major focus of the rite is the offering of food and drink to the deceased ancestors, who depend on these offerings for their well-being.—p. 67
As the Vedic rituals fell gradually into disuse, the sraddha became the chief means of ritual contact not only with the ancestors but also with other classes of heavenly and earthly beings. Thus in medieval India sraddhas were offered to gods, goblins, elements, an assortment of spiritual beings, and even to oneself. They were offered also on a variety of occasions. For example, the birth of a son, a marriage, any success in life, an eclipse or other significant calendrical event, or a pilgrimage, were all occasions for offering a sraddha….—p. 68
Of what significance is this opposition and juxtaposition between the ritual world of sraddha and the ideological world of rebirth-karman? First, it is clear that religious traditions in general and Indian traditions in particular embrace simultaneously a multiplicity of worlds; they contain several explanatory schemes that may appear to outside observers as logically incompatible. Depending on the context the believers and the practitioners may pass from one explanatory scheme to another without even being aware of such a passage. See, for example, the explanatory schemes of karman and astrology invoked with regard to past and future events, both deterministic, but the former determined by an individual’s past actions and the latter by some form for astral or divine influence. In the case of ancestor worship one explanatory scheme dominates at the ritual level, while another operates at a more reflective level. They appear to serve different purposes. The question (p.69) why the rebirth-karman scheme never received ritual recognition either in the funerary rites or in ancestor worship may never be fully answered. –pp. 69-70 [One of the reasons could be that while rebirth takes place as per the karma of the individual, sraddha is an obligation on the part of the living to do their dharma of passing the importance of remembering the ancestors to the next generation. Even in sraddha like tharpana [water offering] there are three levels in 21 generation. Sraddha or panda is for the immediate pre seven generation; offering sesame seed with water for the next seven and only water to the third seven. After that no links is there between the person and the ancestor.–db]
…The process of selection in an admittedly patriarchal and for the most part patrilineal society appears to imply that the ritual serves a larger function that has more to do with the living than with the dead. The sraddha forges relationship between living and dead kin; even more importantly, however, it creates bonds among the living kin and between them and their ancestral property, and it highlights their duties toward posterity.—p. 70
…Hindu law recognizes the right of the closest sapinda to inherit the property in the absence of a direct descendent such as a son. The connection between obligation to perform the ancestral offering to a deceased man and the right to inherit his property has been upheld even by modern Indian courts.—p. 71
…In India at a very early period the concept of debt (rna) was used in a theological doctrine aimed at legitimizing a variety of social institutions and obligations, of which the principal one was the duty of every man to marry and to procreate (Taittriya Samhita 6.3.10.5; Satapatha Brahmana 1.7.2.1-6)….—p. 72
Recasting a Caste: The Case of the Dadhich Brahmans. Lawrence A. Babb. Pp. 103-124
…patrilineage goddess (kul devi)….—p. 104
…Noting that Dadhichi had given his bones to Indra, they asked that she become their clan goddess (kul devi) and fulfil the king’s wishes. In response, she promised to be their clan ‘deity’ (kul devta), and (p.107) added that anyone among them who worshiped a different deity would suffer sorrows and unrealized hopes….—pp. 107-08
…First, a sacrifice cannot be fruitful unless the priests are paid. Second, sages (and, at soe ideal level, Brahmans generically) do not –or should not – wish to accept such payment, because doing so is inconsonant with world renunciation, which is a defining Brahmanical virtue. Thus, the dilemma of dakshina.—p. 109
The Morality of Refusal. Arjun Appadurai. Pp. 163-177
…The argument developed in this paper is that Gandhian ideas and practices about non-violence have a double genealogy. One genealogy is connected to Indic ideas about asceticism, avoidance, and abstinence, and in common with other ascetical traditions, relies on the moral virtues and special powers associated with the restraint of bodily appetites. The other genealogy has a different relationship to the world of the senses, of sexuality, and of power, and draws on Indic ideas about kingship, sacrifice and martial prowess. This latter tradition is not especially anxious about doing harm to sentient life and draws its ethics from the militant logics of sacrifice and warfare in Indic thought….—p.163
…While the Gandhian version of the doctrine of ahimsa is frequently tied up with the active project of truthful force, active tolerance, and political love, non-violence is also directly linked with his general interest in avoidance, abstention, and abstinence….—p. 164
…Krsna’s main advice to Arjuna {in Gita} is to act in the spirit of abstention, and the action in question is violent action. In this instance, it appears that Krsna did not advocate (p.164) abstention from violent action. But even here, on closer examination, it is abstemious action that Krsna recommends to Arjuna and the abstention in question is described in the language of detachment from the fruits (phala) of action or, as more commonly translated, from the results or consequences of action….—pp. 164-65
…English meanings is misleading. Maya may better be understood as ‘the structure of appearance’, that is as an ordering principle with its own rules of shadow and substance, reality and truth, being and representation.1—p. 166
- I owe this insight to the oral classroom remarks (in the early 1970s) of the late Prof. A.K. Ramanujan of the University of Chicago, who was greatly influenced by the structural linguistics of the 1960s and used the idea of structure to show that the concept of maya was not a low-level form of Eastern mysticism, but a rather sophisticated and consistent ontology of appearance.—p. 166
…Dumont’s original insight was to suggest that the Indian ascetic was the primordial archetype of the individual in a society otherwise defined by collectivity, com-(p.167)munity, and what later came to be defined as caste, in Hindu India….—pp. 167-68
…there is a deep and not fully grasped relationship between royalty, warfare, violence, and asceticism in Indian history. This relationship has its roots in the early Indic paradigm which create an inner bond between ascetics and kings, both masters of the violent sacrifice, in common opposition to the Brahmin, defined mostly by being the apical point in the logic of the gift. We might say, as a simplification, that while yajna is the paradigm of the king, dana is the paradigm of the Brahmin, though of course these moral orders are deeply reciprocal. The ascetic is the obscure figure here, and there is a rich tradition of thought, especially in the twentieth century, that focuses on the sadhu. But the discussion of the inner affinity between kings and ascetics has not been fully explored.—p. 168
….These studies also disclose a distinct sociological paradox about the collective organization of Hindu ascetics, who have also been considered to be exemplars of the logic of individualism in a collectively organized society, by virtue of their freedom from established social categories and locations….—p. 169
…But if we place the fast unto death in the more general field of Gandhi’s strategies and practices, which included the long marches, the major rituals of civil disobedience, the public sacrifice of British textiles, the active invitation to physical violence by satyagrahis in relation to the armed force of the Raj, and the domestic dramas of sexual control and experimentation in Gandhi’s daily life, we are made aware that Gandhian ahimsa is indeed closely tied to the spectacular world of the royal sacrifice and the political power of the warrior-ascetic. Thus it cannot be seen in isolation from older and new forms of Hindu militance. {militancy?}—p. 170
Gandhi’s story invited us to connect asceticism, abnegation, abstinence, and refusal as forms of political action. Gandhi was the modern world’s first and greatest refusenik but his refusal took its meaning from a particular way of mobilizing the inner link between asceticism, violence, and non-violence in the Indic world….—p. 171
…the active work of non-violence is to invite the forces of violence to declare and enact themselves and to manifest themselves practically, rather than as threats or deterrents….—p. 172
…the Gandhian version of the ethics of refusal also drew its force from another ethics of violence and power, associated originally with the royal sacrifice in India, and subsequently with militant asceticism. This sort of refusal needs to be handled with care, since it can and indeed has become far too available to the politics of saffron and the vulgarization of the trident in contemporary India.—p. 173
Revolt in the Temple: Politics of a Temple Paintings Project in Sri Lanka. H.L. Seneviratne. Pp. 179-202
…a textual tradition that expresses a deep distrust of sex that even forbade monks to witness domestic cows being washed, or to ride on the cow’s side of an oxen-drawn cart….—p. 185
The British government duly assumed the role of protecting Buddhism, and the great annual pageant associated with the rituals of the Tooth Relic of the Buddha was performed under state patronage, with the British governor or his representative playing the role of the king. This explains the anguish that pervaded the nobility when, due to missionary pressure, the British government decided to sever the connection between itself and Buddhism, which in missionary opinion was idolatrous….—p. 188
…Covering the upper body was considered disrespectful of superiors, both human and divine. It is for this reason that even today, pious men and temple functionaries bare their upper bodies when they enter a Hindu temple—the opposite of the Christian (and Islamic) idea of covering the body, especially by women, when entering a place of (p.193) worship, expressed in the idea of “Sunday best”…..—pp. 193-94
…The best known of these are the erotic sculptures of the temple at Kajuraho. This is not to claim that in India or Sri Lanka, someone went about making a gallery of erotic sculptures or paintings every now and then, and they are all over the place. A “gallery” of any art, perfectly natural to us, would have no place in the traditional world. In India or Sri Lanka, or for that matter anywhere in the traditional world, art was not an autonomous sphere but part of work and belief of a people. In practising it there was no fanciful choice as to paint or not paint nude figures. Such figures were introduced into a composition for their symbolic or metaphoric meanings, as needed by what was being depicted. We thus see in the Sri Lankan tradition, sixth century paintings of bare breasted female figures, some light skinned and others dark skinned, which have been interpreted by archaeologist Senarat Paranavitana as representing rain clouds and lightening….—p. 195
…So the claim of these religio nationalists that public nudity or semi nudity, or its depiction, has no indigenous and pre colonial antecedents is simply not true. As already suggested, the idea that underlies this claim, namely, that prudishness is morally superior, is derived not from any indigenous source, but from missionary Christianity.—p. 196
…However, considering the universal lack of reluctance on the part of institutionalised religion to embrace militancy when it suited them, a militancy that in some instances included crusading armies and sword bearing ascetic units, and considering also that nothing is more secular than war, it is astonishing that we continue to make a spectacular distinction between the religious and the secular.—p. 199
In contend that in this silence we are allying ourselves with the elites of other cultures who idealise and defend their world views for reasons quite different from our own. While we are fixed on the relativity of cultures and their intrinsic worth as unique products of the human imagination, they are interested in the potential their “culture” affords them to establish and perpetuate their hegemony over the masses of their less privileged compatriots. The elitist defence of “our culture” gains in cogency and legitimacy if cast in the sheep’s clothing of an innocent and peace loving nation coming under unprovoked attack from “foreign” or “imperialist” sources. In this self-representation as the besieged innocent, “culture” becomes a potent evocation of a glorified pre colonial past whose atrocities are conveniently swept under the rug. “Culture” in this sense becomes the emblem of identity and national pride, and is used with extraordinary effect for furthering the status and hegemonic agendas of these elites. Bared of their propagandist fig leaves, such agendas primarily consist of personal aggrandizement, and are accompanied by the abuse of power and ill governance leading to economic ruin, the breakdown of law and order, and the weakening or destruction of the society’s central institutions with dire consequences to the nation as a whole, especially the oppressed and impoverished majority.—p. 200
What I am trying to emphasise is that “national” or “cultural” policies, and claims of the defence of religion, culture and nation from imperialists and foreigners, function to keep the masses of the people in poverty, ignorance and hopelessness. This is the dark underside of “culture”, “diversity”, the romanticized “subaltern”, and the doctrinaire “empowerment the other”….—p. 201
…In the post 9/11 confusion, we tended to imagine that ethno religious extremism was something specific to Islam. But in fact all religions have their share of it. Its content, characteristics, rhetoric, and ardour are so identical across religions that extremists of all religions, like the workers of the world, can unite and have their own fundamentalist religion. Samuel Huntington was right when he talked about a clash of civilizations, except that the clash is not between the west and the rest but between sensible people across religions, and those who are not.—p. 202
Pain and Power: Reflections on Ascetic Agency. Peter van der Veer, pp. 203-218
What is ascetism?
The simple answer is that I do not know. Like other important concepts, such as religion or ritual, asceticism is used as a universal concept, although it derives from a particular Christian tradition. As such, it belongs to that large conceptual apparatus which is used in the European expansion to make other cultures legible and manageable. Anthropology, as a discipline of modernity, is always caught in the conundrum of how to relate these universalizing concepts with an increasing knowledge of particular traditions in particular times and places. This is correctly conceived as the problem of translation, but we have to remind ourselves of the simple fact that less powerful languages are usually translated in more powerful, that is more universal ones.—p. 205
…The first is that what resembles something else is not equal to it. That is to say that one can call sufis, sadhus, and bhikkhus are, first of all, to be understood within their own discursive traditions….—p. 205
…It is already clear from much ethno historical work that caste as a system is more or less the product of colonial systematization, while caste society before the colonial intervention was a much more variable, complex, and changing set of configurations….—p. 207
…As soon as one worships images and builds temples, one becomes part of a sedentary caste society, which reflects upon one’s religious practices….—p. 208
…In his article “Le Combat de la Chastete” Michel Foucault analyzes the texts of the fifth-century Christian author Cassian who makes a famous categorization of eight vices and the ways to battle them as the heart of ascetic practice (Foucoult, M “Le Combat de la chastete”. Communications, 35, pp. 15-25, 1982:15-25). What Foucault emphasizes is that ascetic practices is not so much an internalization of prohibitions, but the opening up of a domain of thought which is a quest of truth about oneself. Especially the complete absence of nocturnal pollution is a sign of sanctity, of total chastity, and thus of a divine gift of grace. The body is the battlefield between Evil and God (p.209) and one can never be sure, one always has to be watchful and indeed requires the surveillance by others to be sure….—pp. 209-210
One element in the phrase ‘politicization of religion’ is that it assumes that something that was originally ‘a-political’ has become ‘political’. While it is quite difficult to do historical research on Hindu and Buddhist asceticism it is abundantly clear that we deal here with social phenomena which have always played a crucial role in the political economies of the societies in which we find them and that they are therefore political in their very nature. The demand for a ‘return to the original, purely religious nature’ of these phenomena is a modern, secular demand, just like asking sadhus to go back to the Himalayas….—p. 211
..What is much less understood, however, is how acetic discourses and practices are translated and transformed by their incorporation in ‘the service of the nation’. Quite simply, how is a term like ‘seva’ carried from the religious sphere, where it means ‘service to god’ to the secular sphere to mean service to the people or simply social work.—p. 212
…Ramakrishna was outrageous. When he would go into trance, he would place his foot on the gentials of one of his young boy disciples, whom he called ‘pure pots’, that could hold the ‘milk’ of his divine love (Kripal, J. Kali’s Child. The Mystical and the Erotic in the Life and Teachings of Ramakrishna. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. 1995:2). Kripal shows convincingly that tantra allowed Ramakrishna to enact his homosexuality, a sexual inclination deeply frowned upon both in India and in Britain. The aversion of Ramakrishna towards women cannot only be explained by referring to the tradition of renouncing the world as Chatterjee does, but has also to do with homosexual tendencies within that tradition (Chatterjee. The Nation and Its Fragments. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1993: 62-68).—p. 214
…Vivekananda is the peculiar and unusual figure here. He was, on the one hand, entirely immersed in devotion to Ramakrishna, and on the other, decided to create a Hindu religious system, which sanitized everything that characterized Ramakrishna’s beliefs and practices. There can be no doubt that Vivekananda was totally swept off his feet by his encounter with Ramakrishna and that he became an ardent disciple. Nevertheless, his education in Western philosophy and his engagement with Brahmo religion prevented him from accepting Ramakrishna’s Shaktism. Vivekananda removed Tantric Shaktism and the awesome Kali from sight. Vivekananda’s was a logocentric, masculine form of Hinduism, Vedanta, not Ramakrishna’s feminized form of mad possession. Ramakrishna’s highly eroticized meditation on Kali as Mother and Lover, on Kali on top of Shiva, on Kali’s tongue were edited out of Vivekananda’s message to the world. Kali was replaced by Mother India, as tantrism was by nationalism. Tantric enjoyment was replaced by ascetic dedication to the nation. –p. 214
…From Vivekananda’s viewpoint religion is based upon reason, not belief. Yoga is legitimized as a scientific tradition in terms of rational criteria….—p. 216
..Lise McKean has shown the extent to which the idea of spirituality is even used in promoting national products, such as Indian handlooms and handicrafts (McKean, L. Divine Enterprise. Gurus and Hindu Nationalist Movement. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996). There seems to be no escape from the relentless marketing of India’s spirituality today.—p. 217
Dharmapala’s Buddhisms. Steven Kemper. Pp. 247-272
…Don David Hewavitharana came from a Buddhist family, but attending a series of seven missionary schools left him deeply affected. He would eventually invent a new name for himself, Anagarika Dharmapala, as a promissory note on his life’s work, “homeless protector of the Buddha’s teachings”…..—p. 248
…Abroad Dharmapala { Don David Hewavitharana }had a career that most nationalists lacked, seeking to create an ‘imagined community’ of co-religionists transcending individual Buddhist nations by reclaiming the ‘Buddhist Jerusalem’, and making Bodh Gaya the center of the united Buddhist world. That world would depend on mutual aid among different kinds of Buddhists, making it possible both to restore Buddhism and protect local culture.—p. 250
In that context Dharmapala { Don David Hewavitharana }oes to England to teach some compassion to future generations of English people bound for Asia. As he explains to a Ms. Faulkner who comes to call on him in London,
I did not come to convert the Christians to Buddhism, but to ask them to listen to the teachings of the religion which the missionaries sent by them seek to destroy (Diary, January 12, 1926).—p. 268
When German Buddhists urged him to concentrate on Europe and stop spending so much money establishing the sasana in England, Dharmapala { Don David Hewavitharana }says that “it is necessary to enlighten the ‘Sea Wolves’ of England. Otherwise the missionaries would eat up all the Buddhist children of Ceylon” (Diary, February 21, 1926)…..—p. 269
When Buddhism ceased to be a missionary religion, it ceased to be a strong religion. Re-establishing the religion as a missionizing endeavour –even without conversion—was the key to making it strong again. Buddhist Asia would be the beneficiary of its own efforts, but other benefits would (p.269) flow to the Buddhist world as a whole, including countries where no Buddhism existed previously.—pp. 269-70
…English people sing that they will never be slaves, but Dharmapala { Don David Hewavitharana } tells that they suffer from the worst kind of slavery, slavery to self, cravings, and desires (Maha Bodhi 1926:602). Once the English learn to do more than study Buddhism, once they embody Dharmapala’s transcendental mysticism and begin to live Buddhism, they will be free. And at that point the soteriological side of Dharmapala’s English Buddhism will activate what Dharmapala wants to be a set of political and economic effects People who have freed themselves from slavery to self will not want to enslave other people in India and Sri Lanka.—p. 270
Religion and Globalization from the Historical Perspective of Thai Buddhism. Donald K. Swearer. Pp. 273-290
…Possessing luxury brands has become a modern talisman, replacing traditional amulets and tattoos as a way of warding off evil, protecting the owner from uncertainty, providing peace of mind, and engendering confidence before one’s peers.—p. 274
…The United States has been particularly demonized for pursuing hegemonic imperialistic policies driven by national economic self-interest under the guise of ‘freedom (= free enterprise) rather than promoting democratic ideals of justice and equality at a time in history when global problems—poverty, epidemic disease, environmental destruction, and violent conflict—call for an unprecedented degree of international collaboration in which global survival requires that national self-interest be subject to the pursuit of greater global common good.—p. 275
…However, the benefits of global economic development that have reduced many quantitative barriers have led to such an economic disparity that the 1996 Human Development Report could cite the astounding statistic that the financial assets of the 358 wealthiest people equals that of half the total world’s population. And in the past decade the disparity between the rich and poor has only increased.—p. 275
{James} Kurth’s {“Religion and Globalization”. Foreign Policy Research Institute, 7(7) http:www.fpri.org/fpriwire/0707.199905.kurth, religionglobalization.html. 1999} second perspective, the post-modernist, rejects traditional, pre-modern religion but it also rejects the enlightenment values of rationalism, empiricism, and science, a position that he terms, ‘expressive individualism’. He labels this perspective a ‘republic of choice’ in politics and ‘consumer sovereignty’ in economics, an ideology associated with free market global capitalism…..—p. 276
Historically when the so-called ‘world religions’ have taken root and flourished in various regions they have adapted to different cultures. Inevitably these adaptations have produced tensions between their normative-universal and culturally-particular dimensions. In contemporary terms, world religions have been a ‘globalizing’ force and their cultural adaptations or contextualizations can be characterized as a process (p276) of ‘glocalization’ {‘globalization’?} ……—pp. 275-76
…Theravadins venerate the historical Buddha, Siddhatta Gotama, exclusive of the panoply of Buddhas found in Mahayana and Vajrayana; unlike Mahayana bodhisattvas, Theravada arahants are not venerated as compassionate saviours but as fully realized beings who will not be reborn; in contrast to the diversity of normative texts found in other Buddhist sects….—p. 277
…It was said that young Thai males were not yet ‘ripe’ (yang mai pen suk) until they had spent a period of time in the monastery….—p. 279
Variants as Historical Statements: The Rama-katha in Early India. Romila Thapar. Pp. 349-394
…The intensity with which the variant versions were propagated makes it apparent that the Rama–katha takes on the quality of one of the thematic dialogues of Indian civilization where multiple versions symbolize confrontations with or confirmations of, historical change. The variant tended to emerge where the more elite Indian culture touched local cultures, the resulting narratives re-(p.352)flecting this intersection. The dialogue registers historical change both in terms of space and time, so that the location and the date of the variants are significant. Differences in narrative are not accidental for they either affirm or contest each variation, whether marginally or centrally.—pp. 352-53
The original Rama–katha –if there was one—has now disappeared engulfed by the variant versions. References to the narratives that occur in the Mahabharata and the Ramayana are often mentioned incidentally in the Buddhist texts. These dismiss episodes such as the bharata yuddha, the Bharata war, central to the Mahabharata, and the sitaharana, the kidnapping so Sita, central to the Ramayana, and other such stories with the uncomplimentary remark that they are “purposeless talk”.{Sumangalavilaasini, 1. R 76; Papancasudani, 1.163.}—p. 353
…In one Buddhist tradition Okkakka is equated with Iksvaku and the etymology of this name is derived from iksu or sugarcane, the usual etymology as given in later Puranic sources…..{Visnu Purana, 4.1.7}…—p. 356
…The forest was the habitat of hunter-gatherers and the colo-(p.356)nizers were peasants, often organized by the state, seeking to cut forests and thereby acquire cultivable land. This was to be a continuing confrontation through history. The forest dwellers were demonized to justify their removal from their habitat. Gradually they were converted into caste-based societies….—pp. 356-57
Valmikis Ramayana had links with the earlier Rama–katha from which, along with a floating bardic tradition of narrative fragments, Valmiki composed a single text. The text gradually got encrusted with later additions which changed the probably epic character of the original into a sophisticated literary form. The final text is referred to as both kavya, poetry, and akhyana, narrative.{Ramayana, 1.4.7; 1.4.21-26} As kavya it was distinct from itihasa which thought to have some connection with a historical tradition. A past that is thought of as having actually happened, as is common to epics, was overlaid by layers of creative imagination that went into the making of an early literary masterpiece, prior to being converted into a sacred text….—p. 358
It has been argued that the Valmiki Ramayana grew in five stages. Initially the oral version of the story was largely (p.358) the narrative in Books 2-6. This was put together in the fifth-fourth centuries BC. It was then revised with some interpolations from the third century BC to the first century AD, and was by then in written form. In the subsequent two centuries what are now the first and last books (Books ` and 7), were added and this was a substantial reformulation of the intention of the text. From the fourth to the twelfth centuries AD further passages were incorporated. The fifth stage has some passages of the subsequent period with poor manuscript support….—pp. 358-59
…The brahmanisation of the text is evident in the first and last books, with their frequent references to the four varnas, and to the importance of dharma and danda to the functioning of the king. Rama is an avatara of Visnu and Rama–bhakti becomes as important, if not more important, than the performance of yajnas, the sacrificial ritual associated with the Vedas…—p. 359
…Since the epic is written from the perspective of ksatriya society, its social approval as in most epics is limited to an exclusive group. Ordinary people are involved only at a subservient level. The status of the ksatriya derives from his birth, so genealogies are included for both Dasaratha and Janaka, possibly hinting at historicity.—p. 362
…The characteristics of an acceptable kingdom lie in fulfilling the norms of the saptanga theory of the constituents of a state: the svami, king, observing dharma, ruling over a janapada, a defined territory, with mantrs, an efficient administration, with a centre in a durga, fortified city, controlling danda, coercive powers with access to a full kosa, treasury, and nurturing mitra, allies. This is stated in the Kautiliya Arthasastra as the essentials of a kingdom, and it overlaps with the concept of the state….—p. 367
…The contrast is made apparent in the Sundarakanda (Book 5), where the recitations and the yajnas, sacrificial rituals, of the raksasas in Lanka resemble those of brahmana ascetics. Some raksasas are called yatudhana referring to their accomplishments, whereas in the Vedas the term was used for those who practice sorcery. {Ramayana, 5.3.26-28; 5.4.12} Despite the yajnas performed by Ravana in the last book a difference in religion is indicated by the association of the raksasas with caityas. These were normally locations of non-brahmana cults and of centres of yaksa worship. Where they are funereray mounds they are sacred spaces distinctly different from those associated with Vedic ritual….—p. 370
…Although Ravana himself in the last book, is said to have performed {Ramayana, 1.4.7; 1.4.21-26} Vedic sacrifices, this addition seems to have been an after-thought on the part of later redactors.—p. 372
…Bhagavatism, which was different from Vedic belief and ritual, emerged as a synthesising religion, although the synthesizing could be initially confrontional and subsequently more peaceful. Its technique was less to proselytise directly and more to incorporate keeping a control on what was introduced. For this kind of mission the theory of avataras came in very useful. Organisational techniques were probably borrowed from the Sramanic sects with a grudging concession to the usefulness of literacy, the institutionalising of sects and the location of sacred enclosures as a focus for the community. But these developments evolved slowly over time. Images and temples became the focus from the early centuries AD. The use of a test, whether a Purana or a version of an epic now converted to sacred purposes, are pointers to the recognition of new historical situations.—p. 373
…In its earliest form as an epic the hero {Rama} had a close relationship with the gods without being gods: rajas could share activities with gods but were not gods. In a further stage the hero could on occasion act like a god. In the final version he was the incarnation of a god with divinity….—p. 373
…Above all it is specifically stated that kings are a source of merit and cannot be opposed, not just for this reason but because they are in effect deities in the form of men. {Ramayana, 2.98.15; 6.105.10; 5.48.11; 5.49.26; 3.25.22; 6.98.15; 4.12.8. The Ramopakhyana also suggests that Rama was human.}—p. 374
…In a lineage-based society the bards had a high status, but in later texts which list the hierarchy of castes when caste society was well-established, their ranking was low….—p. 377
…Bards are more frequently associated with the assemblies of chiefs whereas the courts of kings maintain court poets. The recitation of the Ramayana by Kusa and Lava could be interpreted as a concession that the epic was originally in bardic hands but with the change in polity and society became a preserve of brahmana poets who were the redactors of the epic.—p. 377
…The brahmanas here are the killers of animal life in their sacrifices, eaters of meat, lacking in discipline, sunk in sensual delights rather than living according to moral laws, heretics and preachers of false doctrines who acquired their status through fraud and cheating people. {Paumacariyam. 4.64ff.; 11.23-28; 105.43ff.} The term that is used for the brahmanas is heretics –pasanda—the same which the brahmanas came to use for the Sramanic sects….{Paumacariyam, 89.48; 4.64-90}—p. 385
Plain Tales from the Field: Reflections on Fieldwork in Three Cultures. Arjun guneratne. Pp. 397-422
…The assumption that underlies this question is that Americans (and in particular, white Americans) can study whosoever and whatsoever they please and need justify it only in terms of their interests as individuals, while those anthropologists who hail from places that historically have been the object of anthropological study are supposed to (or assumed to) study their own society.—p. 397
…It is because the United States is a global power that American anthropologists are able to take for granted that they may do research where they please (especially if they are recipients of a Fulbright grant, which smoothes the logistics and bureaucratic hassles wonderfully)….—p. 397
We take for granted that culture is multifaceted and fragmented, being inflected along lines of class, gender, status, age and in whatever other ways are locally relevant. I take culture to be a system of symbols that enables human beings to apprehend and give meaning to the world and by so doing, to act in it….—p. 399
…In most fieldwork situations, the anthropologist arrives as a relatively powerful and influential outsider, with resources at his or her command that most local people cannot hope to match (most anthropological research, usually through force of circumstance, involves studying down rather than up)….—p. 402
An ethnography is the art of interpreting to members of one culture the lived experience of life in another, and the anthropologist’s role is that of a culture broker who mediates between his own milieu and that of the culture he is describing (and in the history of anthropology, this has typically entailed two quite different cultural contexts, necessitating some degree of translation)….—p. 416
Anthropology, it is often said, is the art of making the strange familiar and the familiar strange. The two ideas are linked, but for the second to be realized, the strange must be made familiar first. One must travel outside of one’s own society to truly appreciate that it is only one among innumerable other ways of being, all of them perfectly rational by their own lights. The deeper the immersion in these other ways, the more profound one’s understanding of this basic anthropological insight. The familiar will always remain familiar in the absence of a yardstick by which to gauge its strangeness. That is why immersion in unfamiliar places among people who operate according to different logics should remain an essential part of anthropological training; it is probably the most effective way to call into question the categories into which one was socialized….—p. 420
The (Re)Turn of the Native: Ethnography, Anthropology, and Nativism. Abdelmajid Hannoum. Pp. 423-444
…As anthropology is traditionally a discipline that studies the ‘Other’ and it sets as a goal for itself, “to grasp the native’s point of view?”, the question of nativism is important…..—p. 423
Traditionally, anthropology has been defined as: “the study of the non Western World by the west”…..—p. 436
…The discipline of anthropology was distinct insofar as it drew upon the heritage of the Enlightenment in positing the unity of humanity, but also because its very condition of possibility depended upon and required ‘local knowledge’. As such, the goal of the anthropologist, always a white man, very often from the upper class, was to apprehend other cultures in relation to his own. Knowledge was to be extracted from the very people it was supposed to know. Put differently, the narrative begins with the anthropologist, a European man, and the native: a non-white man. Yet, the relationship between the two was already theorized and predetermined vis-a-vis the project of anthropology: the role of the native was to inform and the role of the enthnographer was to conceptualize. This was, in other words, not only an epistemological position as it was a power relationship. For the informant was and is essential for the production of anthropological knowledge. Yet, his knowledge was always filtered and transformed though the language and anthropological categories of the enthnographer and in such a way as to become appropriated and domesticated by the anthropologist.
After the Second World War, however, anthropology has welcomed the native in his own right to become an anthropologist. But only on the condition that he completes the necessary training: years of course work at a certified and accredited anthropology department, years of fieldwork, and the production of an ethnographic text. In other words, the native is subjected to the same rules and institutions that have always defined the discipline, in effect transforming his ‘nativeness’ into something comprehensibly Western. Then, and only then, does the native become an ‘anthropologist’? Frequently, the native anthropologist is also positioned as an official informant of his own culture, which is to say that the return –or to be exact, the turn—of the native is conditioned in such a way as to keep the sacrality of the ethnographer’s temple undisturbed by virtue of the authorized training and skills for anthropologists. The native ethnographer cannot help but remain a prisoner of the same set of categories specific to the discipline.
Does this mean that change and rupture are not possible within our disciplinary tradition? Does this mean that Euro-(p.437) centrism is impossible to escape? By the term Euro-centrism, I do not mean only the centrality of the European but, rather, a European mindset, the thinking process that is specific to Europe, regulated by its own categories, and having its own history and genealogy. To be an anthropologist is, then, to be part of this history and genealogy. Different from, but not opposed to it, is nativism. The ability to think from and outside of the epistemological limits of Europe; it is the cognitive ability to be from ‘there’ and ‘here’. Alternatively, it is the ability to violate the sacrality of the temple, yet remain its priest. Surely, anthropology as a rigorous and demanding discipline requires complete adherence and, thus, to posit the possibility of a native anthropologist seems almost contradictory, if not sacrilegious. For indeed, how can one trained within a European mindset come to think outside of it? How can one be from and belong to a here and a there simultaneously? This is a tremendous if not impossible challenge, and if the native anthropologist meets the challenge, he is referred to and labelled a ‘post native’ (Geertz, C. “Culture War”. New York Review of Books, 42(19). 1996@). He is believed to have moved beyond native ways of thinking. This was the case of Gananath Obeyesekere who challenged the anthropological tradition from within, specifically its powerful discourse on the ‘other’.
In a certain anthropological tradition, the ‘Other’ category encompassing all non-Europeans has been defined as essentially other, as what Europe is not: irrational, mythical, cannibalistic, and so forth….—pp.437-38
@In bibliography the year is given as 1995–db
…what is required in anthropology, as a humanistic discipline, is the necessity for integrating the gaze and the voice of the ‘Other’ into the ‘Self’, epistemologically and ontologically; in such a way as to transform the ‘Self’ into an ‘Other’, and thus the ‘Other’ into the ‘Self’. When, or if, that happens, the discipline may be referred to not as anthropology, but as post anthropology.—p. 442
The Romance of the Field? R. L. Stirrat, Dinah Rajak. Pp. 445-469
…In the hierarchy –at least a year of the profession, the more remote, the more inaccessible and the more exotic the site of one’s field research, the greater one’s prestige as a ‘true’ anthropologist. Thus the wilds of Papua New Guinea or the depths of the Amazonian rain forests rate somewhat higher than field research in suburban Cheam or even the slums of Nairobi. And even if the site is not that exotic or that remote, anthropologists take a certain pride in narrating the hardships of the fieldwork process: the lack of privacy; the continual exposure of the gaze of the ‘other’; the physical privations of the fieldwork experience.—p. 448
…Precisely what ‘participant observation’ is remains unclear: it is rare for anthropologists to actually fulfil what appears to be implied by (p.448) the term. Few who have lived amongst hunters and gatherers have actually become hunters and gatherers; few working in fishing villages have become fishermen….—pp. 448-49
…But just as fieldwork is to anthropology as the ‘blood of the martyrs was to the early Church’, so too the ‘field visit’ is an essential component of working in development.—p. 450
Now of course, as in the example given earlier, such visits are extremely carefully orchestrated. Whilst there is a semblance of consultation in planning a field visit –where the visitors would like to go; what they would like to see; who they would like to meet—in practice the hosts are able to maintain a high degree of control over the trip. Thus the people the visitor wants to meet may not be available; the roads may be impassable; the staff may not be available to accompany the visitor. Whilst these visits are in a sense visits of ‘inspection’, representatives of foreign donors coming to see how their money has been spent or planning how it will be spent in practice the ‘subalterns’ have a considerable amount of power. In practice they can control where people will go, who they will meet and what they will see….—p. 450
Once negotiated, the field visit often becomes something of a magisterial procession. In both the official and non-official worlds, protocols have to be observed and hierarchies recognised. Thus, depending on their status, the visitors will be accompanied by various levels of counterparts, the more important the visitor, the more important the counterpart….
…The entourage of local administrators, regional level officiants and people from head office effectively prevent any meaningful contact with the ‘real people’. They control what questions are asked and what answers are received, ensuring that the answers are acceptable to the visiting ‘expert’ and that the latter’s questions are equally acceptable to those being interviewed. Translation, mediating and second guessing determine the content of the engagement. So local partners and counterparts are intent on producing the sorts of information which they think the development professionals want to hear, and which will facilitate the sorts of development (p.451) assistance which they hope to receive. Or alternatively, they attempt to generate the sort of show which will exemplify how well past assistance has been used.
Of course, development professionals are only too aware of how they are being controlled and manipulated, and of how their movements and who they meet are being carefully orchestrated. For many, there seems little desire or interest to escape from the highly scripted drama but for others there is often little they can do about it –given the ideology of development assistance which talks in terms such as ‘technical cooperation’ and ‘partnership for progress’. To move outside the terms of the relationship, to seek to escape from one’s counterparts and to work independently of existing hierarchies, is to threaten the very basis of the relationship. And so there is a sense in which both sides are trapped. The hosts imprisoned by their expectations of what the visitors will want; the visitors by the impossibility of escaping from their minders.—pp. 451-52
…In a sense what field trips do is to provide a space, albeit temporary, in which the grand ideals which justify and inform (and frequently motivate) those who work in development can be reasserted in the face of what often appears to be the humdrum and irrelevant administrative work required by development organisations….—p. 456
As one long serving development professional put it to us, the great skill in the development industry is not running successful projects or programmes but in succeeding in placing the blame for failure on incompetent, crooked or uninterested partners.—notes, 8, p. 457
…The message is clear: development is something that comes from above (perhaps by car; perhaps by bicycle) and from outside the world of the poor. Despite all the insistence on ‘partnership’ and ‘participation’, what is actually achieved through these visits is a marking out of distinctions, difference and hierarchy.—p. 458
So what the field trip does is to provide a seemingly empirical basis for development strategies. All involved are engaged in a highly scripted performance which provides the basis for a report which supposedly presents an empirical situation ‘as it is’ but is in fact defined and determined by a particular set of a priori principle. But whilst we have presented this performance in a somewhat cynical fashion (no-one involved really believed what they were saying or doing but rather did what they thought they should do in terms of their position in a system of resource allocation), there is more to it than this. For, as anthropologists of religion have stressed for many years, ritual is not just a matter of formalised performance: it also creates inner states of being, thinking and understanding. Cynicism can and often does give way to faith.
The great advantage of the ‘field trip is that it doesn’t last long and it doesn’t (usually) raise difficult questions. Because it is scripted and controlled it presents a stylised, of-(p.460)ten idyllic, picture of rural life, and here the ‘communitas’ ideals of development practitioners and the hierarchical nature of the development industry come together…..—pp. 460-61
…For without the exotic other there would be no anthropology just as there would be no development industry without the impoverished other. And for most of the time, these two others happen to be the same, the impoverished exotic.—p. 462
…In the case of the development worker, issues concerning time, status and power make such a state unrealisable, but even for the anthropologist there are questions to be asked and the myths surrounding ‘my friends the villagers’ are often unfounded. Of course there are times and instances when anthropologists do create long term relationships with those they anthropologies, but in general there are doubts as to the depth and quality of these relationships…..—p. 463
…Yet such myths of intimacy between anthropologist and informant, whether it be of friends or lovers, often serve to veil relations of domination and, at times, exploitation (Rosaldo, R. Culture and Truth: the Remaking of Social Analysis. Boston: Beacon Press. 1993).—p. 463
Behind the myths of linguistic competence and social expertise the reality more often consists of the use of interpreters (or ‘research assistants’) who mediate and manage communication between the anthropologist and the ‘locals’, and not a few situations where, as in the world of development, the mediators become adept at producing what the anthropologist needs in the way of exotic behaviour or exegesis. Admittedly, anthropological fieldwork is almost often much longer than that of the development worker, but much that the anthropologist would see as blighting the nature of the development field trip is just as much an issue in long term anthropological fieldwork.—p. 463
…In anthropology as in development, words like ‘partnership’ and ‘collaboration’ are becoming increasingly common. Furthermore, this is associated with a new stress on the rights’ of informants and the importance of ‘informed consent’. The anthropologist, like the development worker, is becoming more and more part of what is being anthropologised.—p. 465
…One of the chief qualities of anthropological fieldwork, as opposed to say, it’s evil twin –the fieldtrip—is held up to be the length and depth of the researcher’s engagement with the field. Multi-sited ethnography if taken in its literal sense is seen by some to reduce this to little more than a series of vignettes drawn from brief sojourns in multiple sites and awkwardly strung together. It is at this point that it starts to sound dangerously closed to the contradictory claims made on behalf of PRA {‘participatory rural appraisal’}that it is simultaneously indepth, unhurried participant observation, and yet at the same time provides quick and easy access to indigenous knowledge or hidden realities.—p. 467
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