What’s new in a new Temple?

By AMITA KANEKAR

A new temple is announced. Thanks to the recently-delivered Supreme Court verdict in the Babri Masjid land dispute case, it looks like we – in a land short of many things, but definitely not new Hindu temples – are going to get a new temple, the grandest of them all, on the site of the demolished Babri Masjid. The judgement has seen strong reactions, with some raising the legal issue of how the same judgement which declares the demolition of Babri Masjid by a mob in 1993 as illegal could reward the perpetrators (or their instigators) with the land, instead of trying to undo their crime; and others criticising the historical argument in the judgement that the site has always been believed to be the birthplace of the Hindu diety Ram, for using very questionable sources. (more…)

Of Human Rights and Indian Values

By AMITA KANEKAR

There is a tourist hostel in Anjuna called Prison, which also calls itself a party hostel. Because, what better place to party then a prison? At Prison, so one hears, guests are called inmates, have to change into striped clothes and get their mug-shots photographed with boards mentioning their names, get locked up in their rooms by staff dressed like security guards, sleep on metal bunk beds, and so on. All for fun, of course. Fun for those with money to burn, and a need for new thrills – because just beaches, coconut trees, and cheap alcohol can get boring – not to mention the conviction that they will never really be imprisoned themselves. (more…)

Review: Fear of Lions

Courtesy: R. Krithika, The Hindu.

Amita Kanekar’s brilliant second novel is based on a little-known revolt of the late 1600s. The Satnami Revolt drew its name from the community involved; farmers, artisans, traders and others who eschewed caste and religious boundaries and lived as self-reliant groups. The revolt in Narnaul, near Delhi, was triggered by a fight between a foot soldier and a Satnami: it escalated into an armed conflict that dragged Emperor Aurangzeb into the field. (more…)

Swachh doesn’t mean Clean!

By AMITA KANEKAR

In a month which sees Modi feted for the Swachh Bharat Mission, a newly-appointed sweeper working for the Corporation of the City of Panaji (CCP) was hauled up by her superiors for covering her nose with her own scarf while sweeping – because it shows, they said, that she is not serious about her job. (more…)

The Politics of Loss

By AMITA KANEKAR

Don’t politicise the floods; the people won’t forgive you. This was the warning of the Maharashtra Chief Minister, Devendra Fadnavis, to opposition parties, even as the death toll in the monsoons reached 49 in Maharashtra and nearly 250 across the country. (more…)

Review: Fear of Lions

Courtesy: Surpriya Nair, Mumbai Mirror.

In 2005, Goan historian Amita Kanekar published A Spoke in the Wheel, her first novel. It retold the story of the Buddha, and of his mighty disciple Ashoka, through a Marxist lens, challenging the myths of their popular legends by restoring their political and economic narratives to them. A decade later, Kanekar published a new edition of the novel, having rewritten parts of it. The changes “were inspired largely by Ambedkarite interpretations and critiques” she added in the acknowledgements, “…all part of my own ongoing struggle against the casteism that colours the thinking and practice of every savarna person of South Asian heritage.”

I was struck by this decision, which seemed to indicate an unusual artistic humility. Perhaps another critic would argue that any story so dominated by political ideas must be a brittle and formulaic one. Certainly, A Spoke in the Wheel is sometimes exegetical to the point of being preachy, but it is thrilling and absorbing at other times. Above all, it establishes Kanekar as a writer with a generous and expansive view of Indian history.

Her new novel, Fear of Lions, reimagines a little-regarded episode of that history: the Satnami rebellion of Narnaul, Punjab, in 1672. Not far from Mughal Delhi, this community of caste-rejecting, musket-wielding agriculturists rose up against unfair taxation, and successfully fought back waves of imperial force before they were crushed. Inspired by Shaikh Raidas, as they must have called the anti-caste guru who is better known today as Sant Ravidas, the ‘Followers of Truth’ in Fear Of Lions create a proud, self-reliant community tills the land, shares its resources and teaches women how to shoot.

Their life is a rejection of the brutal humiliations of the surrounding world, where caste Hindus and Muslims alike render them untouchable, even “unseeable”. The emperor Aurangzeb is a puritan, and seemingly a zealot, but his India teems with the energies unleashed by centuries of Mughal rule. The words of Kabir flow through the societies of the Gangetic plain, seeking freedom and the light of reason. The Deccan “mountain rat” Shivaji disturbs the dreams of Hindustan’s complacent aristocrats.

Sikh gurus reject old social codes and organise against Mughal might; Catholic Goa’s Portuguese merchants and preachers alike find takers in markets upstream from the Bay of Bengal. Many of these streams feed into the story of the Satnamis. But Kanekar doesn’t ventriloquise for these revolutionaries. Instead, their story accumulates in layers, through the rumours, reports and inquiries of their enemies. One, a free-thinking intelligence agent struggling up the ranks, finds himself a reluctant admirer. Others, like the teenaged Muslim noblewoman fleeing her zenana to meet a Rajput soldier she loves, can only interpret their stories as tales of
witchcraft and madness.

As Fear of Lions unfolds, so does Kanekar’s interpretation of the story’s distortions and erasures, subject to the power structures of imperial Hindustan. There has been an efflorescence of popular writing about the Mughals in recent years, but few highlight what seems obvious after Fear of Lions – that Mughal society was deeply indebted to, and protective of, the caste system. The empire after Akbar was shaped by its influential brahmins, as well as by the Rajputs whose bloodlines intermingled with that of the imperial family. (The historian Ira Mukhoty offers a good account of how this changed the Mughal zenana in Akbar’s time in her book, Daughters of the Sun.)

There are times when historical context threatens to weigh Kanekar’s narrative down, throwing us out of the story – the array of religious influences on the creed of the rebels, for example, should expand readers’ imaginations, but can sometimes read like the author debating with opponents invisible to us. Her characters have a tendency towards public address, careful to fill in the gaps in our knowledge even in their innermost thoughts. The narrative’s own staccato asides smartly lecture readers on what would sometimes be better inferred. Still, all long and ambitious novels run the risk of unwieldiness, and Kanekar largely steers us through the dark and complex waters of her story with bold, even stubborn momentum.

The poet Karthika Naïr re-interpreted parts of the Mahabharata through the voices of the epic’s marginal characters. She called her book Until the Lions, inspired by the proverb, “Until the lions have their own historians, the history of the hunt will always glorify the hunter.” Fear of Lions not only recalls the truth of this motto, but infuses it with promise. The voices of free people may be stifled by powerful enemies. But rebellion against injustice, even brutally suppressed, can trouble history in unexpected ways. Erased or transformed out of existence, truth may nonetheless be rediscovered in time. It may even show up in fiction.

Review: Fear of Lions

Courtesy: Harbans Mukhia, TheWire.in.

The year is 1673 – 15 years since the last Great Mughal, Aurangzeb Alamgir ascended the throne, master of all the grandeur, a massive landscape, vast riches that are the envy of the world, especially to the eyes of the New World, Europe. The initial hiccups of succession to the throne, following the very bloody war of succession, have subsided and some more bloodshed in battles is still a long way off. There is peace everywhere. Peace and prosperity all around. (more…)

A Much-Needed Ferment

By AMITA KANEKAR

India, said The Economist famously some years ago, is a ‘continent-sized embarrassment’. The description, which attracted outrage from sections of India’s ruling establishment, is actually a mild one, if you go by the recently-published book ‘The Ferment: Youth Unrest in India’ (Macmillan, 2019) by Nikhila Henry. The book paints a picture of contemporary India that is at once both depressing and inspiring. Depressing because it relentlessly and meticulously confirms the suspicion that must haunt every thinking Indian today: this country is just not working. Henry’s book interviews diverse young people across the country united by their involvement in protests of one kind or another, trying to find out just why they are angry. And, from almost all the vantage points she presents, the country resembles less a functioning republic and democracy than a disaster zone; a disaster zone in which millions of the weakest, poorest, most vulnerable of its citizens are trapped in poverty, violence, hierarchy, patriarchy, illiteracy, criminalisation, you name it, most of it based on caste, and with no freedom in sight.

(more…)

Amita Kanekar: Interview at the Launch of “Fear of Lions”

Courtesy: Iris C F Gomes, Prutha Goa.

Amita Kanekar’s new historical novel Fear of Lions transports us into the world of Aurangzeb – a world of contradictions, where extravagant lifestyle and abject poverty are prevalent side by side…where a rebellion so powerful, led by a rumoured witch, threatens the Mughal Empire. This is Amita’s second novel after A Spoke in the Wheel which was set during the period of Emperor Ashoka’s rule. 

The novel took about 15 years to reach its culmination with the interspersion of other works such as The Portuguese Sea Forts of Goa, with Chaul, Korlai and Vasai along the way. It was mainly reworking the original writing and more in depth research that took up time. ‘I changed my attitude to the story and the way I looked at how it should be written because of exposure to ideas about caste, about anti-caste struggle, because basically this is an anti-caste story,’ says Amita.  The struggle of taking the research she had done and drawing a well-crafted appealing story out of it was a real one. Lack of personal knowledge or not enough information about rural conditions of the time proved a hindrance in the continuity of framing the storyline. It was finally in 2017 that Amita worked intensively to complete the novel.

Unlike A Spoke in the Wheel, Fear of Lions has all its sources listed. Amita says, ‘A big question that came up later for that book (A Spoke in the Wheel) was, “What are your sources?” I was unprepared at the time because it was my first work of historical fiction.’ 

There are conflicting views among the researchers she has read with regard to what the prominent problems during Aurangzeb’s rule were. Some writers say that taxation was an issue while others say it was the shortage of land to be given to those being asked to join the empire as nobles; still others say it was the religious beliefs of the time. ‘In fact, this is why I started writing fiction. When I wrote about the Buddha in my first book, I was interested in nonfiction…in social struggles,’ says Amita. The conflicting views she encountered as well as the fact that she was not an expert in the fields she was researching made taking a creative approach far more conducive in putting forth certain ideas in a book. She says, ‘When the question came of choosing between the scholars, one could take a creative decision about what could be right. I don’t justify it, I’m just going with it. Though to some extent the novels do justify it…why I think it’s right.’ There are arguments presented through characters in the book that debate ideas, and these are ideas of the scholars of today about what may have happened in the past.

Amita’s process of putting together a historical novel involves laying the foundation of the historical facts and research chronologically and then filling in the spaces with her own creativity. There are also characters in historical records whose identities are disputed. For example, in Fear of Lions there is a character called Abul Mamuri who is a government servant in the novel. The real Mamuri has written a history of Aurangzeb’s time. Earlier historians of Aurangzeb’s time say he’s a noble, an amir of Persian background, and this description of his character is what Amita went with originally in her writing. 

Some of the information that forms a part of the novel has been taken from contemporary diaries of the time. These were extremely important for research because after the tenth year of his rule Aurangzeb put a stop to the tradition of maintaining a court diary about his life because he thought it was un-Islamic. One of the diaries which is written by Mamuri gives a positive picture of the rebellion depicting the rebels as being anti-caste and coming from diverse backgrounds right from sweepers to tanners to peasants, groups that never came together. These rebels did not have priests or rituals, women had a significant role to play, and they upheld the truth at all costs. There were other accounts too that portrayed the rebels in a bad light. 

Mamuri’s positive approach is why Amita included him as a protagonist. She changed his role to that of a government servant after reading some more recent research on the man which says that, on the basis of his writing, Mamuri could be three different men, two Persians and a lower status individual. The writings conform to the dates of the third Mamuri, a non-Persian unknown. ‘I chose that so I could invent a background for him which could explain why he looked at them (the rebels) in a positive way,’ says Amita. Mamuri’s background also served to show that the Mughal court had people from all types of classes and having different levels of credentials. Although the main aim of the novel was to show the anti-caste struggle, Amita has tried to describe Mughal society in its complexity where even a nonentity like Mamuri could climb the rungs of prominence. 

The novel brings to light the connection of Goa with the Mughal Empire and its cultural significance. Trade with the Portuguese led to changing crops in agriculture besides other artistic influences. ‘Continuously there are references to changing crops because it is based on a rural uprising. The issue of agriculture is big and agriculture is changing rapidly. Cash crops are coming in and cash crops are being encouraged,’ says Amita. Along with the Mamuri-Goa link, there is also reference to Aurangzeb and his Viceroy of the Deccan having a taste for good quality coffee brought in by the Portuguese. 

The story of the uprising of the rebels of Narnaul is told from the perspective of the Mughal elites and not from the point of view of the rebels. Amita says, ‘There are some of us who belong to the privileged sections and benefit continuously from the existence of caste. If we ourselves tell the story of caste, of those who are fighting against us, we are appropriating somebody else’s story while at the same time benefiting from caste. This idea of appropriating the story of these rebels disturbed me because I have never, and probably my family has never, gone through what they have gone through, so who am I to tell their story?’

One of Amita’s main motivations behind writing a historical novel is the popularisation of history because she says most of what people believe to be history is actually myth and usually Brahmanical myth, for example, the story of Parashuram in Goa. She says, ‘This intermingling of history and myth where myth is dominant is the norm.’ If authentic historical facts are presented to the public in an attractive package, it will help educate them by making history more accessible. She says, ‘The past is really important. The past is not over. We can see the past is part of the politics of today. The past is part of our identity. It is part of what you are proud of or ashamed of.’

Fear of Lions by Amita Kanekar is published by Hachette India and is priced at Rs 399.

(This article is based on the interaction between Amita Kanekar and Dale Luis Menezes at The Dogears Bookshop, Margao, Goa.)