Undamming The Flow: Harampal
Undamming The Flow: Harampal
Undamming The Flow: Harampal
DHARAMPAL
I will tell you another episode. Some years ago, about 1960, I met
some people, and I think in a way that meeting gave me a view of
India, the larger India, not my India or our India, or India of the
people sitting here. I was travelling from Gwalior to Delhi; and, got
wondering, who is going to look after this India? What India are we
talking about? This India, the glorious India of the modern age, built
by Jawaharlal Nehru and other people, these modern temples, uni-
versities, places of scholarship! For whom are we building them?
Those people on their pilgrimage were not interested in any of this.
And they were representatives of India. They were more representa-
tive of India than Jawaharlal Nehru ever was. Or, I and most of us
ever could be.
to royalty, royal ways, royal manners --not the royal ways of the
people, but to those of the alien despots. So we keep talking about
the Islamic royalty, the Sultanate, or the Lodhis, or the Mughals, and
so on. What kind of royal rulers were they anyway? They were tot-
tering, most of them, and most of the time! And they were not the
rulers of the whole of India. I think the Rashtriya Swayamsevak
Sangha and the Bharatiya Janata Party must partly be held respon-
sible for exaggerating the extent of Muslim rule. The historians of
course are responsible for originating such conceptions. But the his-
torians do not matter, these people do.
What was Muslim rule in India? What were its dimensions? At
no particular time Muslim rule extended to more than half of India.
And, what is the period? I would say from about 1200 to around
1700, around 1690, in fact, because the power of Aurangzeb is bro-
ken by then. The British keep the myth of ruling in the name of the
Mughal rulers of Delhi till 1857. But the British did it in the name
of the Nawab of Arcot too! The Nawab of Arcot is a camp follower
of the British. He is a boy of 16, when he joins them around 1748
and he lives till 1790. Then his son, or some kin, becomes the suc-
cessor. And till 1799, when Karnataka is taken over by the British
formally and legally, till then he is only the Nawab of Arcot. The
day they take over Karnataka, he is turned out, and then termed as
the Nawab of Karnataka.
This is the British way of doing things, of establishing legiti-
macy. And we have fallen for that. We have rejoiced in it. Ram
Manohar Lohia used to say that if only Jawaharlal Nehru could have
admitted that he was only the son of a Thanedar, not of a great aris-
tocrat, it would have been better for him and the country. Because,
what is this matter of being descended from great aristocracy? A few
thousand Muslim families, perhaps most of them direct descendants
of Arabs, Turks, Afghans, Iranians, etc., also unfortunately seem to
feel the way Jawaharlal Nehru did. Whether he acquired this attitude
from them, or they from him, may be worth enquiring.
Why can’t we say we are descendants of ordinary men? Or, say
that we are all descended from Srirama, Srikrishna, or some other
great epic hero. And if we do that, then all of us, not only a select
few, must trace our descent to such a great hero. This whole busi-
ness of splitting the society into a few and the rest is wrong. We
do such splitting and naturally the larger component of the society
has no interest in what the few do. And then nothing happens in the
society any more.
Look at what has been happening in India for the last 45 years.
Nothing has moved. I don’t mean that the last 45 years are wasted.
Nothing is wasted. But nothing very much has come out of it, except
that we have survived those 45 years! That is all that we have done.
When I talk of these matters, people say, “But then we cannot give
up centralism! Centralism is so precious, the world wants central-
ism. How can we give up centralism?” But what do we have to do
with the world? If centralism does not suit us, if it is not according
to our capacities, then how can we keep it going? What will it de-
liver for us? And, if we are keeping centralism only to be protected
from Bangladesh or Pakistan, it is not really worth keeping.
We must have a system that delivers what we want, and we must
know what we want. Or, let us say that we have become protected
territories. Perhaps for 20 years we were, in a way, the protected
territories of the Russians, now we may become the protected
territories of western Europe or the United States of America. If that
is what we want then let us say so. At least it would be clear, it
would be in the open, and at some stage we would probably come
out of it honourably.
This process has gone on in our society for a very long time, espe-
cially during the last one hundred and fifty years, but perhaps since
much earlier. Perhaps we have been shrinking like this for the last
3 or 4 hundred years, at least in north India, though not so much
in the south. But there must have been repercussions of it in the
south also.
There is a note of the late 18th century, of around 1770, about the
Indian peasant. It is written by one of the then judges of the Calcutta
high court, Le Maistre, and he recounts how in his view the mind of
the Indian peasant works. It is about one page note, where the Indian
peasant recounts what has happened to him over a long period. The
peasant recounts what his rent was in the beginning, how it was
increased, and he remembers that it was increased some ten times.
And, he keeps on reminding himself of many other similar
misfortunes. And then he says, perhaps a day will come, when all
this will disappear.3
So these are the people who constitute India. They are waiting
for the day when all these alien constructs will disappear from their
life. Then, their attention is drawn to places like Ayodhya, or to
Varanasi, or to what my friend Sita Ram Goel says about the 3,000
mosques which have been built over temples in India.4 When their
attention is drawn to such and similar things a time comes when
they say, “But at least we should do something about this!” There is
of course lethargy. There is the Indian indolence. But still people get
mobilised. And they say let us do something about this.
So they go to such a place one year. Not much happens. Only
ceremonial rituals take place, ceremonials of all sorts are performed.
They go there the next year, they go the third year. And then people
begin saying that these people, who had drawn their attention to it,
don’t mean business, they are just tricking us. They used to say that
even in 1977-78. Of course, people were very happy then that the
Janata government had come in Delhi. But within a year a large
number of people had begun saying, we wish Indira Gandhi were
back. And she was back within another year and a half.
merely wanted to have a big tamasha, a grand show, year after year.
Because, we live on such tamashas. We have had threats from
Pakistan for 45 years, we live on that. We move from crisis to crisis,
so that we don’t have to do anything in India for the people of India.
So this could have dragged on. I’m sure the Bharatiya Janata
Party would have happily allowed it to drag on for some more time.
I do not mean that Lal Krishna Advani or anybody else in particu-
lar wanted it to drag on. But as a party the Bharatiya Janata Party
would have preferred that. The Congress has been playing this
game of keeping various tamashas going for decades now, and the
Bharatiya Janata Party is no different from the Congress, or the
Janata Dal, or the leftist parties. All of them are about the same.
Even Devilal behaves similarly, though he claims to be a great
peasant leader.
But, either because of a conspiracy or because of the initiative
of the people, the structure crumbled. They demolished the struc-
ture. And, when they demolished it, and when I read about it next
morning or perhaps heard about it from somebody, I really did feel
relieved. My feeling is that most of the people sitting here also
would have felt the same. There of course are people here who are
secular, who are not affected by the Bharatiya Janata Party or the
Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangha, etc. But even they I believe
would have felt relieved in a way. You know the kind of feeling one
has at the end of a prolonged illness of an old man. There is sorrow,
but there is also relief. And I think most Indians would have had
this feeling of relief in this case. The feeling of relief could have
also been accompanied by great happiness or great anger. These
emotions can all go together.
Later, of course people had to strike different poses; they had to
adopt public postures. And, there was rioting, there was police ac-
tion, and there were police atrocities, perhaps. But our police is
highly over-stretched, and we have to deploy the army to back the
police system. Because we don’t have that much police. I think for
every one thousand citizens we have much fewer policemen than
what are there in Britain, or in the United States of America.
Therefore, perhaps half our army was posted at three or four hun-
dred different places within the country. There was rioting, there
was police action, and there were police atrocities, and people got
killed, and a few thousands died.
Now if a man like him, who is so restrained, who uses so few words,
who does not ever expend emotion without reason, if this man can
say this, then how much more, thousand times more, would other
people feel? One would say that he was reacting to something which
had happened two years previously, and these people are reacting
to something which happened 500 years ago. But if people feel
concerned about things which are not only two years old, but sev-
eral hundred years old, what is wrong about it? Human beings are
like that. They feel concerned about old things, and new things.
And, we have to treat human beings as human beings, they are not
gods, they are not sanyasis, they are ordinary grihasthas, ordinary
householders, who are irrational, rational, angry, quiet, indolent, and
so on. And they react in various ways. And, when the emotion is
spent, they also settle down.
In any case, of what use would this argument be about history hav-
ing gone stale, when the Rashtrapati Bhavan is demolished or the
buildings of the planning commission; or if the south block, or the
north block are brought down. And these will be brought down. I
don’t think this will take very long, another 50 years perhaps.
Tughalakabad has gone, other places have gone. The British colo-
nial structures will go the same way.
These things happen in societies oft and again. And these have
to happen here. Unless they happen, all this debris which we have
accumulated in ourselves, in our spirit, in our body politic, in our in-
stitutions, etc., would not disappear. And, I think the task really is
that the debris which has accumulated has to be washed away. And,
it is not only the Muslim and the Christian debris, it is also a lot of
Hindu debris that needs to be removed. We have been probably ac-
cumulating this debris from the very ancient period, perhaps since
the last great cleansing that the gods undertook for us in the form of
the Mahabharata war.
Unless this house cleaning is done, I do not think that we would
reach anywhere. We can of course keep on as we are going on
now -- as a stagnant society in which about a million families can
have a living which in a minor way is similar to living in Britain,
Europe or the United States of America. And a fraction of these one
million have some sense of power, they have some authority. There
are perhaps some fifty thousand officers in India, or a hundred thou-
sand at the most, who can order other people around. It is, of course,
possible to continue like this.
did not start cruelty abroad, it started cruelty at home, at least from
the time of Plato, and probably from much earlier. This fancy liberal
picture of Europe that many of us have is just not true. There is no
such picture. Jawaharlal Nehru may have believed in this picture,
Mahatma Gandhi did not. Mahatma Gandhi may have erred in many
other things; he did not err on this point.
Let us be clear. Do we want a European type of society, and do
we have the capacity to enforce it and keep it going? I don’t think
we have the capacity. We are too comfort-loving, we are too indo-
lent. We cannot do this. And so we will have to come to terms with
ourselves. We shall have to come to terms with what our people can
do and carry forward. They cannot carry impossible loads. And we
have been making them carry impossible loads. We have been liv-
ing in an impossible situation.
DISCUSSION
were the earlier Delhi rulers and their institutions. These residues
do not work. And these kinds of institutions and structures hardly
constitute centralism of any sort.
We should have created our own centralism, if we wanted to. We
did not. We did nothing, either about institutions, or about laws, or
about rules of office procedures. We have about 300 manuals left
behind by the British, which govern the working of the departments
of government, and of different offices, police stations, treasuries
and so on. Most of the regulations were created between 1770 and
1830, in the Boards of Revenue, Military Boards, and other impe-
rial structures, and later put together in these manuals with some
modifications here and there. But, even our constitution was con-
structed similarly from old imperial regulations and acts, selections
from which were brought together in a voluminous text with some
minor modifications and additions picked up from different consti-
tutions of the world.
Your other worry is about what would happen if groups begin to
do things their way. But the people of India, joined together in
groups formed around their communities, their localities, their
castes, their professions and so on, will do things in their own ways.
Who are we to tell them not to do this or that?
I remember having been in a party in Moradabad some five or
six year ago, where a number of police officers of the level of DIG’s
and SSP’s were present. It was around the time of Holi, and the
police officers were talking about the people of a dominantly
Muslim locality nearby. They were saying that the Muslims of that
place and other towns around Moradabad were objecting to the
invasion of television into their lives, they were worried that it was
having a bad influence on their people and was spoiling their
children. And the very responsible police officers in that party were
wondering how the Muslims could dare to say such things? They
were agreed that the television programmes were indeed bad, but
they could not understand what right the Muslims had to object to
them. The Muslims, they were certain, could not be allowed to stop
their children from watching television. In fact, they felt that they,
as high police officers of the area, could issue orders proscribing
such objections to the television on the part of the Muslims.
What is this? We should sort out our minds and our information.
Who is to run this country, the officers of this decrepit system
is divided into the main village, the OOr, and what you call the
Chery, the Harijan hamlet. It is a large hamlet. And, there is a man
there, who is a school teacher. I don’t know any Tamil, he knows
some English. And, through a little English and a little translation, I
was able to converse with him a bit. We went through many
subjects. I asked whether they happened to go to the village temple.
Incidentally, there is a beautiful temple in the Oor. It is ancient,
perhaps about 800 years old. So I asked, “Do your people go to the
village temple?” He said, “We can go, nobody would stop us. But
the people of the Oor would not like it. So we don’t go.”
Then the talk went a bit further. And he just mentioned that his
daughter got married to somebody who set up house in the Oor, in
the lane where the Karnam, the village accountant, lived. It is one of
the major lanes of the village, and every year the rathayatra of the
temple deity used to pass through this lane. But the year the daugh-
ter of this school teacher in the Chery and her husband began living
in that lane, the rathayatra stopped entering the lane!
He was telling me this story without much emotion. And when
he told me about the rathayatra avoiding the lane where her daugh-
ter lived, I looked at him and wondered what would happen to that
beautiful, ancient temple. The Brahmans cannot look after it. There
are only 15 or 16 of the Brahman families left there. There were
many more about 200 years ago, but they have left. And those who
are still there in the village are mostly older people. They too would
disappear in another 10 or 20 years. What will happen to the temple
then? If the Harijans are to be kept away from the temple, who
would look after it? Who would protect it?
The Harijans, who could have looked after that great temple,
have created their own little temple near where they live, and they
have their own fairly grand temple festival every year.
So now, how does one define Hindutva? And who is for it and
who is against? It is very difficult to say. There are different images
of Hindutva that different people have. And because we have had a
bad time for 200 years, or for much longer in some areas, we are in
a bad shape. We are probably accustoming ourselves to breathe in
the fresh air of freedom after those centuries of slavery. And may
be one day we’ll be able to reflect on these issues and find solu-
tions. But it could also be that we are usually somewhat slow in
these matters, and by the time we are ready to solve a problem
we find that the problem is gone, and we have got into some other
difficulty. This has been happening to us in history. This perhaps is
the Indian tragedy. I don’t know.
Gandhiji’s way
SEKHAR RAGHAVAN: Sir, I would like to know what would have
been Mahatma Gandhi’s reaction if he had survived to see this
demolition.
DHARAMPAl: He wouldn’t have been too happy, I think. But, he
would have had a different attitude towards the event. Or, if he had
felt as disturbed as most of the vocal sections of India claim that
they have been, if he had felt that such an event would be a national
shame as many of our commentators have described it, then he
would have staked his life to avert the event. That is the kind of man
he was. I don’t think he would have gone the way we are going
about it. He would probably have said that we must sit down and
sort it out, but he would have done that much earlier, in 1948, 1949
or 1950 itself. He would not have allowed it to fester, the way we
have done.
RADHA RAJAN: When they did not heed the Mahatma on the ques-
tion of partition, do you think they would have heeded him on this?
DHARAMPAL: You are right that he was bypassed at that stage. My
feeling is that he is on the losing side from around 1944, and he
senses it, and other people sense it, too. And because other people
sense it, they take advantage of the situation. In any case the world
is encouraging these other people, the world wants them. For exam-
ple, in Roosevelt papers there is abundant evidence of Roosevelt’s
insistence that everything should be done to ensure that India stays
within the western orbit. Obviously, Mahatma Gandhi was not the
man who would keep India within the western orbit. So they wanted
other people to take over. And thus the events happened, the way
they happened.
But if this man had lived longer and if he still had the spirit in
him, he would have thought of ways of once again mobilising the
Indian people, who were his source of power and authority. And
then perhaps nobody in India could have challenged him. Because,
after all, he had a close association of 30 years with the Indian peo-
ple. Then certainly things in India would have moved differently.
They would not have moved in an ideal, utopian way --I wouldn’t
say that. But many things, which have remained unsorted and ig-
nored under the illusion that we are now entering the modern world
and these things do not matter, would have been attended to.
After independence we did not attend to matters that needed at-
tention. We were swept off our feet by the idea of modernity and
progress; we were carried away by the magic of these words. And,
for about 5 to 10 years we lived on the basis of that magic. Then
these foreign experts, like Rostov, came and pronounced that we
were about to reach the “take-off point”. And my feeling is that the
day Rostov pronounced the take-off of modernity in India, the
whole thing began to collapse the next day.
So modernism did not work; the older problems remained unat-
tended; and our political situation became more and more compli-
cated. The complications arose not because of the outside world
alone; we also had more problems within ourselves, within our so-
ciety. The splintering and the fracturing of the society became more
and more acute.
And then we began to look at politics in a manner that, though
seen as normal in the world outside India, was new to us. We began
to look upon politics as the game of power, as the means to ill-
gotten riches, as the means for acquiring control over men, and so
on. The older purpose of Indian politics, the purpose that had made
politics in India one of the noblest forms of service to the nation, the
purpose that had prevailed in Indian politics from 1920 to 1950,
disappeared. A new type of politician emerged on the scene, new
values began to rule the world of politics. And from around 1970 the
new culture became supreme. From then onwards everybody in
public life came to be seen as corrupt. Probably, the real extent of
corruption was not that large, but the way it was talked about,
everything, even if it was not corrupt, became corrupt. The mind got
obsessed with this.
We, the ruling elite, were thus further cut off from our people.
And since we were cut off from the world of the ordinary Indian, we
began living in a different world. We began cultivating people like
ourselves in the rest of the world. We have about half a million
Indian doctors, engineers, etc., outside the country. Thus we began
to belong to a world fraternity. We became some sort of universal
men, and universal women, who had no stakes in this country. And