Dissecting the Sangh Parivar’s muscular reimagining of Ram, historian Ranabir Chakravarti traces how this narrow view clashes with India’s rich and varied Ramayana traditions. He warns against using mythology as a political cudgel. A former professor of ancient Indian history and culture at New Delhi’s Jawaharlal Nehru University, Chakravarti digs into early Indian monarchies, exploding myths about ancient democracy while shedding light on how divine kingship still echoes in today’s power struggles.
In an interview with Frontline, Chakravarti discusses the Sangh’s characterisation of Ram and sets a historical context for this peculiar choice. Excerpts:
All Hindu iconography depicts Ram with his brother, his wife, and the loyal Hanuman. But the Sangh Parivar has tailored the Ramjanmabhoomi movement solely on Ram.
Yes, a majority of the portrayals of Ram show him accompanied by Sita and Lakshman. An excellent example is the image of the trio in the famous Dashavatara temple [6th century CE] at Deogarh, in the Betwa river valley in Uttar Pradesh. Significantly, the central figure in this composition is Sita, flanked on two sides respectively by Ram and Lakshman, the latter punishing Shurpanakha, Ravan’s sister. This is one of finest and earliest depictions of the trio with Sita as the central character.
The Hindi word Siyaram has now been morphed into the hyper-Sankritised Sri Ram, by the deliberate excision of the name of Sita. It has no backing of the sacred tradition. As we all know, the shrill vocalisation of “Jai Sri Ram” is geared towards the muscular, aggressive, and ethno-majoritarian socio-political ideology of the Sangh Parivar with a view to demonising a perceived other and subjugating the religious minorities. The tender and kind image of Sita is hardly congruous to the war cry represented by Jai Sri Ram. The more thunderous the chanting of Jai Sri Ram, the more Sita fades out.
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Why is Sri Ram of the Sangh Parivar a highly masculine and aggressive character?
What is problematic for me is the Sangh Parivar’s projection of the singularity of the mode of veneration of Ram in the tradition of the Ramcharitmanas, which is popular in the Hindi belt of north India. It does not represent the multifaceted narratives of Ram and the rich and living varieties of emotional attachments to Ram on a pan-India scale. What cannot be missed is that both the Krittibasi Ramayana in Bangla and Tulsidas’ Ramcharitmanas were composed respectively under the Bengal Sultanate and the reign of Akbar [1556-1605].
In view of my greater familiarity with Bengali language and literature, I would like to point out that Michael Madhusudan Dutt [1824-1873], one of the icons of Bengali literature, sharply deviated from the main storyline of the Ramayana in his immortal epic poem, Meghnad Vadh Kavya (perhaps the last epic composed in Bengali). He showed little fondness of Ram and instead spoke eloquently of Ravan for his robust heroism. Tagore was much more enamoured of the poetic imaginations of Valmiki, the Adikavi, than looking for the historicity of events in the ValmikiRamayana. Sukumar Ray (1887-1923), the unique creator of nonsense prose and verse in Bengali, made fun of Ram and Lakshman in his hilarious play Lakshmaner Shaktishel [Lakshman felled by the weapon, Shaktishel]. Rajasekhar Basu [pseudonym: Parashuram 1880-1960] besides writing the essential narrative of the Sanskrit Ramayana in Bengali, penned some funny caricatures of major Ramayana characters in several satirical pieces. These are hugely enjoyed in the Bengali speaking world.
The seemingly endless diversities in Ramayana narratives do not and cannot allow the powers that be to clamp a single representation of Ram over the masses. The championing of a particular version of the Ramayana by the Sangh Parivar leads to the marginalisation, if not exclusion, of the “many Ramayanas”. This aims at homogenisation and centralisation with a divisive socio-political agenda that militates against the very ethos of multifaceted Indian cultures.
Chakravarti notes that the championing of a particular version of the Ramayana by the Sangh Parivar leads to the marginalisation, if not exclusion, of the “many Ramayanas”. | Photo Credit: YouTube Screengrab
Why did the Sangh not choose Krishna or any other mythological character or place for its needs?
I can only guess. The image of Ram, in the light both of the Valmiki Ramayana and the Ramcharitmanas, is compatible with the ideal of the orthodox patriarchal family encouraging the subordination of women and also encouraging the ideal of the Brahmanical varnasrama code. The almost sage-like portrayal of Ram in Tulsidas’ poem, with a thrust on vegetarianism, could have also led to making Ram the chosen icon (the latest demographic data, on the contrary, shows that nearly 71 per cent of Indians are non-vegetarian in their dietary practice). This could have led to the preference for Ram over Krishna. One, however, needs to keep in mind that the Sangh Parivar also strongly projects the primacy of the Srimad Bhagavat Gita, with which Krishna is inseparably linked.
The monarchical state society was conducive to and compatible with the divinity of the ruler for a very long time. Nowadays, I often hear that the objective of history is to highlight the country’s past glories. Seeking merely to narrate the glorious past is a disturbing proposition. For, first, highlighting past glories cannot but result in the promotion of self-proclaimed pride, which is inextricably intertwined with prejudice against some perceived other. That attitude enormously feeds into aggressive nationalism, which combines and accommodates two diametrically opposite positions: the self-perception and proclamation of chauvinism and simultaneously the creation of a fear that the great nation/civilisation has been engulfed by dangers from enemies both within the country and without. Both stances breed hatred and bigotry and give birth to polarisation between majority and minority communities.
One must acknowledge that history does record great achievements attributed to India in hoary antiquity. However glorious these pasts were, revivalist postures and programmes are bound to fail. The people of India since August 15, 1947, have been citizens of the nation-state based on democratic principles. There is no place for the ruler (raja) and his subject population (praja) in post-colonial India. The maximum sanctity rests with and emanates from the Constitution of India. One cannot turn the clock back and re-enact the colonial agenda of divide-and-rule by homogenising the past and by muscular ethno-majoritarianism. The sanctity of plurality in the Indian way of life is a time-tested reality. Let us strive to nurture and further this plurality so that India becomes a more open, more inclusive, less discriminatory, and kinder society and, let’s hope the inequality dwindles.
The Nimbate figure of the Kushana king Huvishka (second century CE) on the obverse of his gold coin. | Photo Credit: By Special Arrangement
What insights does your research offer on early Indian monarchy to understand the model of power and politics as seen in, for example, Tulsidas’ Ramcharitmanas and in the idealisation of Ram today?
Early Indian political processes and polity formations are largely related to the monarchical state society. There were some non-monarchical polities called ganasanghas/ganarajyas. These two terms, however, never point to the existence of a democratic or republican polity. The claim that India witnessed the genesis of democracy in the world is flawed and inaccurate. The very institutions of varna-jati and varnasrama that exclude a vast multitude of people (women included) in India from society preclude any possibility of a democratic set-up in ancient India. The ganasanghas/ganarajyas were actually Kshatriya oligarchies and they resisted monarchies. They figure quite prominently in Buddhist and Jain texts. These non-monarchical entities are noted for their resilience even during the heydays of formidable monarchical powers such as the Mauryas [c. 325-185 BCE] and the Kushanas [c. late 1st century BCE to 262 CE]. Following B.D. Chattopadhyaya, these non-monarchical groups probably represent autonomous spaces. After the mid-4th century CE, contemporary to the Gupta period in north India, these non-monarchical entities began to fade out and were incorporated within the monarchical state system.
The monarchical state often, but not invariably, demonstrates its close proximity to the concept of the divine origin of the ruler. The Vedic corpus speaks little on this matter. The only exception to this may be the epithet of Parikshit as a demi-god (ardha-devata), according to the Atharvaveda. By performing elaborate and bloody Vedic sacrifices, such as the Asvamedha, and the Vajapeya, the ruler was supposed to have acquired divine associations. This may point to the occasional divinity of rulers gained during auspicious occasions and ritual performances.
The Kushana rulers were remarkably eclectic by portraying on their coins a wide range of gods and goddesses: Hellenistic, Iranian, West Asian, Central Asian, Buddhist, and Brahmanical. Yet, the Kushanas also presented themselves as “sons of gods” (devaputra), their dynastic epithet. The Kushanas built dynastic sanctuaries/god houses (devakula/Bogologgo/Bogopuoro) at Mathura and Surkh Kotal and Rabatak (in modern Afghanistan) where reigning and deceased Kushana monarchs were propitiated. Coupled with this was the Kushana practice of portraying the ruler on his coins with a halo behind his head, clearly establishing his supra-mundane status. The obvious intention of the Kushana ruler was to project his centrality vis-à-vis a plethora of deities.
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This was closely followed by the Gupta rulers. The Manusamhita declares that even an infant king (bala) must not be dishonoured (na avamantavya), since he is verily a great god (mahati devata hi esha) in human form (nararupa). Samudragupta [c. 335-75 CE] is lauded as equivalent to Kuvera, Indra, Varuna, and Yama in his Allahabad Pillar inscription. This is an instance of functional divinity as his roles as a bestower of wealth, a valiant hero, a dispenser of justice, and as death to his opponents correspond to those respectively of Kuvera, Indra, Varuna, and Yama. The Gupta rulers, often devout Vaishnavas, particularly favoured the political iconography of the boar incarnation (Varaha-avatara) of Vishnu. The primeval Boar is said to have rescued the earth from impending disaster; this imagery suited the self-projection of the Gupta rulers as protectors of the ideal way of conducting social and political matters—obviously by following orthodox Brahmanical norms.
This tendency intensified in the 600-1300 phase of Indian history. There were many formidable local, regional, and supra-regional powers during these seven centuries.
Abhish K. Bose is a journalist based in Kerala.
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