Does Chaitanya Movement Reinforce or Resist Hindu Communalism?

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the Chaitanya Vaishnava Movement Reinforce or Resist Hindu Communal

Politics?

Does the Chaitanya Vaishnava Movement Reinforce or Resist Hindu

Communal Politics?

 

Joseph T. O'Connell

NB. The footnotes for this article are linked to a separate footnote

page.

 

Introduction - Objectives, orientation, rationale

One basic, but, I think, as yet unanswered, question that hovers over

the current upsurge of Hindu fundamentalism and communal politics in

India is: do traditional forms of Hindu religion on the whole

reinforce this upsurge or tend to resist or retard it; or, perhaps,

do they have no perceptible impact at all?

 

Alternatively, and more precisely, one may ask, do the diverse types

and denominations (sampradayas) of traditional Hindu religion relate

to the Hindu communal upsurge in much the same way, or in

differential fashion? And, if differentially, how so? These are not

purely academic questions, especially for those who may be anxious

over the waxing of communal Hindu religio-political nationalism, but

uncertain where to look for effective alternatives.

 

I do not want to get into here the semantic and conceptual problems

of defining Hindu and Hinduism, which could take us far afield.1 This

paper focuses, not on Hinduism or Hindutva (the ideologically driven

notion of religio-socio-political "Hinduness"). Rather, it examines

the religious self-understanding and socio-political orientation of

one devotional (bhakti) movement or denomination (sampradaya) within

the far wider Hindu religio-cultural and social world, the Chaitanya

Vaishnavas (also known as Gaudiya Vaishnavas). Analogous studies

might well be done for other bhakti movements, as well as for other

sampradayas shaping traditional Hindu religious life. Interestingly,

the religious self-understanding of Chaitanya Vaishnavas

traditionally has tended not to emphasise the category Hindu, though

most devotees, if asked, would consider themselves in some sense

Hindu.

 

The sketches drawn in this essay of Chaitanya Vaishnava bhakti and

of the traditional devotees' typical orientation to socio-political

affairs are matters on which I feel reasonably confident. However, I

am less confident in estimating how strongly that traditional pattern

of Chaitanya bhakti and socio-political orientation is maintaining

itself in contemporary India and abroad. I am even less confident in

predicting how Chaitanya Vaishnavas will, in the face of continuing

controversy, resolve the tensions between fidelity to their

distinctive kind of devotion to Krishna and the demands of Hindu

fundamentalism and communal politics. Hence, this essay is

exploratory rather than conclusive.

 

In this essay I provide a schematic sketch of Chaitanya Vaishnava

devotion (bhakti) and its basic relationship to socio-political

affairs. I also consider how this kind of religious commitment,

especially if intensified through systematic religious discipline

(sadhana), might be expected in theory to reinforce, resist or ignore

Hindu fundamentalism and communalism. I then offer my own anecdotal

observations and those of another scholar, Klaus Klostermaier, on how

in practice Chaitanya Vaishnavas appear to be reacting to recent

communal Hindu religio-political initiatives. Finally, I suggest some

directions in which further inquiry on these points might go.

 

Even if the typical response of Chaitanya Vaishnavas to Hindu

fundamentalism and communalism can be determined, this need not at

all imply that bhakti movements generally (nor all other Vaishnava or

even Krishnaite Vaishnava bhakti movements) would relate to Hindu

fundamentalism and communal politics in the same way. Further

empirical research on Chaitanya Vaishnavas' current socio-political

performance, what to speak of that of other Hindu denominations, is

much to be desired. I would hope, however, that the ways by which I

have analysed Chaitanya Vaishnava bhakti, its distinctive mode of

religious community, and how this mode of Vaishnava community relates

to Hindu communalism might lend themselves to parallel studies of

different bhakti movements and other traditional and more recent

Hindu religious sampradayas.

 

Schematic Outline of Chaitanya Vaishnava Bhakti and its Basic

Relationship to Social and Political Affairs

Basic religious orientation of Chaitanya Vaishnavas

The religious orientation of Chaitanya Vaishnavas is very well

documented and readily accessible; it need only be highlighted here.2

The Bengali Brahmin ecstatic saint known as Chaitanya (1486-1533) is

held by his devotees to be the divine Lord Krishna in the form of

perfect human devotee. Specifically, Chaitanya is understood to be

Krishna in human form, having taken on the persona of the divine

mistress Radha, the ultimate exemplar of loving devotion (prema-

bhakti) to Krishna. This loving devotion (prema-bhakti), his devotees

hold, constitutes the yuga-dharma, the normative mode of religious

practice for the current age, the Kali-yuga. This dharma of loving

devotion supersedes in excellence and relativises (though it may not

invalidate altogether) other forms of dharma, including certain kinds

of Vedic and other Brahminical dharmas. This new dharma teaches that

every soul is in essence, even if not behaving so in practice, a

dependent servant (and at least potentially a devotee) of Lord

Krishna.

 

Chaitanya Vaishnavas put special stress on the idyllic pastimes

(lilas) of Krishna - as baby, little boy and amorous youth - rather

than on Krishna the powerful adult warrior/statesman or almighty Lord

of Vaikuntha heaven. This distinctive mode of devotion, featuring the

gentler, more playful winsome and loving Krishna, is called madhurya

(sweetness, delicacy, affection). It permeates the dedicated

Chaitanya Vaishnavas' devotional life and affects their orientation

to socio-political affairs also.

 

In congregational gatherings, Chaitanya Vaishnavas are urged to be

accommodating, helpful, affectionate with one another. Their ethos

advocates humility and non-violence towards humans generally, not

just fellow Vaishnavas, and even to animals; they eschew blood

sacrifice and the eating of meat. Their festivals, even for the

deceased, are joyful affairs (mahotsavas): singing, dancing,

decorating images, feasting . . . celebrating with one another the

delightful and beautiful pastimes (lilas) and aspects of Krishna with

his eternal companions. Similarly, in private prayer and meditation,

Chaitanya Vaishnavas cultivate madhurya, as they visualise and savour

the sweetness, beauty and loveableness of Krishna engaged in his

pastimes.

 

The heroic events among Krishna's repertoire of sports - including

conquest of demons while He Himself is a mere child - they also

acknowledge, but do not dwell upon. These glimpses of His lordly

power, or aishvarya, remain just that: glimpses, not central foci for

celebration and meditation. For, according to Chaitanya Vaishnavas,

to allow power, or, to dominate one's devotional life would create

distance between Lord and devotee, would overshadow intimacy by awe,

would replace delightful spontaneity with dutiful formality . . .

which, the devotees say, is far less pleasing to and devotee both.

 

Basic Socio-political Orientation of Chaitanya Vaishnava Bhakti

Chaitanya Vaishnavas, like so many communities of devotees, maintain

a heightened state of affectionate, relatively egalitarian solidarity

and ethos with fellow devotees, especially in congregational

gatherings. (The notion of communitas, as developed by Victor Turner

following Van Gennep, has considerable explanatory value in

describing the character of in-group religious attitudes and

practices among Chaitanya Vaishnava devotees.) The historical

community, or communion, of devotees embraces men and women,

brahmanas,sudras and sinners, as well as, in principle, persons

outside Hindu society altogether, provided they experience devotion

to Krishna.

 

In the wider socio-political realm, however, as in marriage, business

and politics, that special solidarity and ethos may give way to more

structured, functional, impersonal relationships, even in dealings

with fellow devotees. Chaitanya Vaishnavas typically differentiates

the realm of devotional activities from the realm of practical

affairs, and they do not (except for a minority of recluses and

mendicants) cut themselves off from mundane activities. They are not

sectarian, but denominational. That is to say, they constitute a

voluntary community, or communion, of persons whose primary religious

concern is devotion to Krishna-Chaitanya, but who are expected to

behave responsibly in their respective historical socio-political

situations.

 

Certain authoritative Chaitanya Vaishnava writers appealed to the

principle of lokasangraha (holding the world together/maintaining the

general welfare), a principle also enunciated in the Bhagavad-gita,

by way of explaining how to participate responsibly in the environing

mundane world without fundamentally violating one's basic commitment

to krishna-bhakti. Rather than occasion unnecessary difficulties and

distractions, Vaishnavas should put up with less than ideal

conditions in the mundane, or laukika, sphere. The Chaitanyaite

interpretation of lokasangraha justifies participating in public

affairs, even under Muslim regimes (as well as under the British

colonial and independent Indian regimes). Chaitanya Vaishnavas may

also accede to many Brahmanic ritual-social customs even though these

may be judged to be devoid of sacral legitimation in and of

themselves. However, if governmental or Brahmanic or other interests

were to interfere seriously with their exercise of krishna-bhakti,

then devotees would be expected to object and seek redress,

preferably through discreet, negotiated settlements.3

 

A number of Chaitanya's prominent contemporary devotees held

important posts in the Muslim regime of the day, either at court or

in the revenue collection throughout Bengal. At least one highly

placed devotee in Husain Shah's court, Sanatana Goswami, the Sarkar

Mallik, resigned rather than participate in an anticipated attack on

Orissa, which would have meant devastation of temples there. Many

prominent Chaitanya Vaishnavas were comfortable working for the

successor British colonial regime.

 

One matter of principle, however, on which Chaitanya Vaishnavas are

expected not to even 'go through the motions' of Brahmanic customs

was prayashcitta, a class of purificatory/atonement rituals. As only

Krishna can break the bonds of karma, they insist, doing prayashcitta

would imply lack of faith in Krishna. On the other hand, various

samskaras, life-cycle rituals, could be performed according to

Brahmanic or other customary norms.

 

My reading of Chaitanya Vaishnava socio-political practice and theory

is that it implies acceptance of a religiously plural society, with a

broad zone of mundane activity that is neutral in religious terms,

neither sacred as deriving from any special revelation, nor an

abomination for not so deriving. Devotees are expected to act

intelligently and responsibly - discerning the demands of

lokasangraha (the general welfare) - in whatever social, economic or

political situations they find themselves. What they expect of the

mundane, or 'secular', realm, is that it function effectively in its

various operational sectors; and, of course, that it not violate the

free exercise of krishna-bhakti, in public or in private. Within such

a laukika, or secular, realm, it was taken for granted that other

religious communions too would practice their own modes of religious

life, even though more or less lacking in explicit devotion to

Krishna.

 

Application of this basic relationship to recent Hindu fundamentalism

and communalism

What does this sketch of Chaitanya Vaishnava bhakti and its socio-

political orientation suggest about how devotees might respond to

contemporary Hindu fundamentalism and Hindu religio-communal

politics?

 

1. To begin with, consider the focus of Chaitanya Vaishnavas' faith.

They are committed in faith to devotion to one personal Lord Krishna,

not to Hinduism, Hindutva or the land of Bharata. Moreover, for them

the religiously valued community is the trans-temporal communion of

Krishna devotees, not a pan-Hindu community or Hindu national state.

Rama though revered by them as a lesser manifestation of Krishna, has

never been a central focus of Chaitanya Vaishnava piety. Treating

Rama as the arch-symbol of Hindu nationalism and the focal point of

agitational communal politics is altogether alien to Chaitanya

Vaishnava tradition.

 

2. Consider also the distinctive quality of religious experience

cherished by Chaitanya Vaishnavas. To them it is loving devotional

feelings and moods, bhavas and rasas, not socio-political interests

and enthusiasms, that are at the core of religious life. Krishna is

Himself rasaraja, the king of devotional mood; Radha, his beloved, is

maha-bhava, the great (amorous) feeling. The whole thrust of

Chaitanya Vaishnava literature, collective activities and private

religious discipline (sadhana) is to evoke, focus properly, purify

and enhance the whole gamut of traditional devotional-aesthetic

experiences. To do this effectively, they drew from Sanskrit

dramaturgy and poetics, propagated their own rich devotional

literature, and institutionalised a complex network of mechanisms

designed to foster krishna-bhakti-rasa, permeated by madhurya:

sweetness, gentleness, love.

 

Furthermore, Chaitanya Vaishnavas conspicuously 'failed' - 'declined'

might be more accurate - to transform their flexible devotional

movement into a structured organisation, refused to define simplistic

boundaries as to who is or is not 'within' the movement. They did not

allow their devotional communion to become identified with a socico-

political power. After the passing of Chaitanya they declined to

designate a central leader or governing body-such as might become the

focus of power struggles which could rupture solidarity and shatter

the mood of bhakti-rasa within the communion of devotees.

 

Much of current Hindu fundamentalist rhetoric, by contrast, seems

bent upon stirring up old resentments and generating new frustration

and hostility. Whereas humility and accommodation are virtues in the

eyes of traditional Chaitanya Vaishnavas, to Hindu fundamentalists

such attitudes bespeak weakness and degradation. Whereas the

Chaitanya Vaishnavas systematically avoid what might transform their

devotional communion into an ethnic community or mundane religio-

political force, Hindu fundamentalists strive to do just that: to

weld Hindu religious sentiments into a powerful communal political

force leading to a national religio-ethnic state. Whereas Chaitanya

Vaishnavas cherish the special refinement and richness of texture of

their distinctive mode of loving devotion to Krishna (and to fellow

devotees, human and transcendent), Hindu fundamentalists endeavour to

supplant the plethora of such sampradaya-specific pieties with a

least common denominator commitment to Hindutva (vaguely symbolised

by Rama) and to the Hindu nation, Bharata.

 

3. Further disparities between Chaitanya Vaishnavas and Hindu

fundamentalists might be noted, but let us now consider certain

points of commonality, or aspects of Chaitanya Vaishnava mentality

which might lend themselves to reinterpretation more favourable to

Hindu fundamentalism and communal politics.

 

For one thing, there has long been a Vaishnava conviction that those

who molest Vaishnavas deserve the harshest of treatment: the Lord

will not pardon one who has molested a Vaishnava-unless the offended

Vaishnava first forgives the wrong-doer. In traditional Chaitanya

Vaishnava literature, however, this theme is usually illustrated by

episodes in which it is reconciliation that results from conflict,

not retribution; for, they say, did not Krishna come as Chaitanya to

propagate the dharma of loving devotion? Still this theme conceivably

could be seized upon and reworked to motivate hostility to

secularists, Muslims, Christians or any other hypothetical enemies of

Vaishnavas.

Then again, the underlying identity of Rama and Krishna might be

stressed to gain sympathy of Krishna devotees, especially nominal

devotees, whose knowledge of the finer points of krishna-bhakti is

shallow, and whose numbers very likely are growing as modernity wears

away traditional knowledge and sensibilities.

There is always the crass, or should we say practical, matter of

short- and long-term economic advantage and influence which might

well induce Vaishnavas of some prominence to be with the winners, if

they were to see the tide turning in favour of Hindu communalist

politics. Even Vaishnava leaders who might have misgivings about

Hindu fundamentalism and communal agitations might judge that the

institutions they represent would be more generously treated by an

explicitly Hindu government. And they might be wary of inviting

reprisals, if they were known to have opposed an eventually

triumphant communalist Hindu religio-political cause.

Perhaps the one aspect of Chaitanya Vaishnavas' bhakti in relation to

socio-political affairs that could most facilitate Hindu

fundamentalist/communalist initiatives is their traditional

preference to not become active in political matters explicitly and

publicly as Chaitanya Vaishnavas. This tendency could render devotees

less inclined to detect and assess the threats posed by

fundamentalist and communalist Hinduism - not only to the secular

state in India but to the future of their own cherished mode of

loving devotion (prema-bhakti). It could also mean that those

Chaitanya Vaishnava spokesmen, if any, who would see trouble in the

waxing of the Hindutva cause might find it difficult to make their

concerns known promptly and effectively among fellow devotees, not

accustomed to think of confrontational politics as pertinent to

bhakti.

But at this point let us leave this schematic and somewhat idealised

account of krishna-bhakti as related to Hindutva in theory, and shift

to the fragmentary accounts of two observers of what is actually

going on among Chaitanya Vaishnavas in response to Hindu communalism.

As will be obvious, these accounts point up the need for more

systematic and extensive inquiries, if anything like a definitive

answer is to be given to the question of whether this devotional

movement (or any other) tends to reinforce, resist or ignore the

communalist Hindu religio-political cause.

 

Recent Observations on Chaitanya Vaishnava Response to Hindu

Fundamentalism and Communalism

General comments

The following remarks derive largely from my own observations during

visits to India in October to December 1990 and May to August 1992

and from a published report by Klaus Klostermaier of a visit by him

to India in January-February 1992. Most of the time of my visits

passed in West Bengal, where the Left Front Government until then had

been quite effective in containing communal politics and violence.

For instance, in November 1984, when Delhi and some other north

Indian cities were the scenes of massacres of Sikhs in reprisal for

the assassination of Prime Minister Gandhi, West Bengal quickly

snuffed out incipient anti-Sikh violence. Again in the days leading

up to the October 1990 aborted attack on the mosque at Ayodhya, there

were Hindu-Muslim solidarity marches by left parties, such as those I

witnessed in Bolpur near Santiniketan. But, after the December 1992

razing of the mosque at Ayodhya, even West Bengal was not immune to

widespread communal violence.

 

The focus of my visits, however, was the spiritual exercises, or

sadhana, of the Chaitanya Vaishnavas, a topic that did not directly

relate to Hindu communal politics. Klaus Klostermaier, on the other

hand, in his visit to Uttar Pradesh, was directly concerned to

document the changes in Hindu religion, especially the

politicisation, in the three decades since his own residence at

Vrindavana in 1962-64. I also passed a month at Vrindavana in 1990

(and some days again in 1992), situated in Uttar Pradesh, the state

most affected by Ayodhya-related agitations and communal violence.

Our visits and projects, though not strictly analogous, were closely

enough related to allow for some broad comparison.

 

Vrindavana (and West Bengal) as observed by the author

My own impressions during both visits was that among the Chaitanya

Vaishnavas with whom I was in contact there was very little active

involvement in Hindu communal activities. Not one of the dozens of

public Vaishnava pujas, discourses, kirtans, processions, festivals

etc. that I attended so much as alluded pro or con to the Ayodhya

struggle, Hindu-Muslim relations, or Hindu communal politics. Only

once while I was at Vrindavana in the month after the Ayodhya debacle

of 1990 did I hear a loudspeaker supporting the Rama-janma-bhumi

(birthplace of Rama) cause, but after fifteen minutes it stopped and

was not heard again. Though Hindi and English newspapers available in

Vrindavana were carrying quite sensationalist reports and pictures of

communal violence, there were relatively few Hindu communalist

graffiti to be seen, and little or no evidence of incidents or

demonstrations of a communal sort in the town (though the paucity of

Muslim residents in Vrindavana would in any event minimise the local

pretexts and targets for such things).

 

I recall quite vividly the day I attended the closing session of

Bhagavata Path discourses in nearby Mathura, delivered to an audience

of upwards of five thousand outside the Krishna-janma-bhumi

(birthplace) temple. Not fifty feet from this new temple (erected

since my first Vrindavana visit in 1965) stands a comparably large

mosque said to have been erected on the site of Krishna's birth. I

attended - in the company of a Gujarati Hindu pilgrim I had met in

Vrindavana - with some anxiousness, as it was only a month or so

after the October 30, 1990 attack on the mosque at Ayodhya. That

Babri Masjid at Ayodhya is alleged by Hindu communalists to have been

constructed at the putative birthplace of Rama, using materials from

a hypothetical pre-existing Hindu temple on the site. At Ayodhya a

number of rioters had attained 'martyrdom' for the Hindu communal

cause. The mosque at Mathura, which also may well incorporate

materials from pre-existing Hindu, Jain and/or Buddhist edifices is

looked upon by some Hindu fundamentalists as next only to 'Babur's

Mosque' at Ayodhya as an offence to Hindu religion and self-respect

and thus as another prime target for demolition.

 

My observations at Mathura are fragmentary, as I was present for only

the last few hours of a multi-day series of talks. But, while I was

there, neither the concluding points of the lecturer nor the closing

formal remarks of the organisers made any obvious reference to the

Ayodhya struggle or other aspects of the Hindu political agenda that

I could notice. The themes were typical Vaishnava ones that I had

heard drawn out of the Bhagavata Purana since coming first to India

nearly thirty years before. Among the thousands of devotees present,

there was no overt sign of awareness of, or hostility toward, the

large mosque adjacent to the temple. Police were few, but adequate.

There were no slogans, banners or signs hostile to Muslims generally,

to the mosque in particular, nor even extolling Hindutva or the Hindu

communal agenda. Interestingly, one of the dignitaries present was of

the Dalmia family (some of whom had contributed handsomely to the

temple at Mathura, and some of whom are prominent in Vishva Hindu

Parishad activities). The bookstore in the temple complex - to which

I made two subsequent visits for purchase of books on sadhana -

offered a variety of Hindu texts, including some on Rama and the

Ramayana, but did not seem to be displaying provocative Hindu

communalist material.

 

Is it not striking that barely a month after the Ayodhya debacle,

while communal violence was still flaring up elsewhere in Uttar

Pradesh, so large and peaceable a Vaishnava assembly could take place

virtually in the shadow of the mosque at the Krishna-janma-bhumi, and

yet not even allude to the old mosque's presence? Does this perhaps

suggest that, where Vaishnava (and perhaps other forms of)

religiosity is amply experienced and expressed, there is no deeply

felt need to save Hinduism from Muslim or secular threat, nor to

restore a Hindu self-respect which had not been felt as lost? One

might also suspect that those who plan the strategy for popular

agitations and orchestrate riots would think twice about unleashing

upon Mathura a potentially destructive campaign to 'liberate'

Krishna's birthplace. Mathura as far more real estate and commercial

interests that would be at risk, as well as more religio-cultural

involvements by prominent Hindus, I would estimate, than did far-off

Ayodhya, a more expendable field of battle.

 

At no time during my Vrindavana visit did any Vaishnava sadhu or

layman with whom I was discussing Vaishnava practices bring up on his

own initiative such matters as the Ayodhya struggle and the need to

protect Hinduism, or express antagonism against Muslims and Indian

secularism. But, as my project was to learn about Vaishnava sadhana,

this is perhaps not surprising. But even in conversations overheard

on the pilgrimage train to Puri or in the slack periods of the day

while staying at ashrams and other Vaishnava institutions, these

issues hardly surfaced. Perhaps some of the same individuals, if

sequestered with persons they knew and trusted, or if gossiping at

work or leisure over tea, would have talked a different, more

political or communal line than when on pilgrimage or at an ashram, I

cannot say. But if they did harbour Hindu communalist concerns, they

did so in a mentally compartmentalised way, neither integrating such

concerns into their explicitly devotional life, so far as I could

see, nor trying to draw inspiration or legitimation for communal

Hindu agitations from krishna-bhakti.

 

On the few occasions when I did turn discussion to the current

communal strive, the most common reaction was to lament it and write

it off as 'politics'. Some of my interlocutors, however, confided

that Muslims had indeed been getting favoured treatment and that it

was hard to be Hindu publicly even in India. On one occasion at

Vrindavana, I did inquire of the secretary of an elderly babaji his

views on the Ayodhya struggle. Without noticeable rancour, he said

that the Muslims had done destructive things in the past and were

presently being favoured - precisely the themes upon which the Hindu

communalists harp and which can be used to stimulate and condone

violence. In his case, I did not detect any interest in pursuing the

communal agenda: the one practical project he was committed to was

distribution of his guru's many devotional publications.

 

By and large, I did not detect among Vaishnavas much sympathy for

Muslims as a threatened minority, even when communal violence was

being wreaked disproportionately against Muslims in the fall of 1990.

That Muslims were in fact disproportionately the victims may not have

been common knowledge. Neither the secular governing interests

(sensitive to foreign perceptions and anxious to avoid yet more

reprisals that are violent) nor communal Hindu interests (intent upon

painting Muslims as the villains) were keen to highlight the extent

of Muslim victimisation. On the other hand, I did not detect among

the Vaishnavas I was associating with much real anger aimed at

Muslims, or at secular interests for that matter. Nor did my

interlocutors express any sense of religious duty, least of all any

Vaishnava imperative, to mobilise Hindu communal interests against

Muslim or secular threats. There simply did not seem to be much

concern or urgency over the whole communal upheaval in the Chaitanya

Vaishnava ashrams I visited in West Bengal and Vrindavana during my

last two trips to India.

 

Among Chaitanya Vaishnavas, especially those in Bengal, the overall

impression I received was that what they considered important

religiously, that is, krishna-bhakti, was somehow insulated from

whatever was going on in the turbulent world of Hindi belt politics

and religio-political agitation.4 Pursuit of krishna-bhakti typically

seems to have fostered a tendency among those especially devoted to

turn away from the allurements and the pain of the mundane world to

seek the bliss of Krishna's pastimes. One may, as a devout Vaishnava,

retire or go on pilgrimage to Vrindavana to leave behind such worldly

distractions. But counter-balancing this tendency are other Vaishnava

norms to the effect that one must not shirk one's duties, that one

should not rush into celibacy, and so on. The pertinent ideal norms

for the Vaishnava devotee-citizen are ambivalent and call for

responsible decision.

 

Chaitanya Vaishnavas' practice and discourse in the early 1990s

continued to be conducted within the basic symbolic patterns of

krishna-bhakti and the devotional communion. Krishna-Chaitanya bhakti

as such is highly distinctive and refined in its symbolism and

terminology and approved repertoire of devotional feelings. Little of

this traditional refinement and delicacy of feeling can be found in

what we are seeing of current Hindu communal religio-political

agitation. I have yet to encounter in written form, in public

discourse or private communication anything resembling a serious

theological (better 'ideological') reinterpretation of the specific

symbols and teachings of the Chaitanya Vaishnava tradition designed

as an explicit legitimation of Hindutva (ideological 'Hinduness') and

the communalist Hindu religio-political campaign. This does not mean

that there will not be (or may not be already in existence but

unknown to me) such ideological reinterpretations of Chaitanya

Vaishnava myths, symbols, doctrines and denominational history in the

interests of Hindutva. But such reinterpretations of Chaitanya

Vaishnava thought, if they do eventually come to the fore, will be

doing so in the wake of, not the vanguard of, the communalist

campaign for Hindutva.

 

Vrindavana as observed by Klaus Klostermaier

By contrast, Klaus Klostermaier, reporting on his visit to India in

January-February 1992 for research on religious change, encountered

what he considers evidence of a shift toward Hindu communal politics

even among Chaitanya Vaishnavas in Vrindavana and the surrounding

Vraj area.5 His report is part of a three year research project

on 'History of Vaishnavism in Uttar Pradesh since 1947.' He observes

Hindu communalist Vaishnavas and others are overlooking the

differences between sampradayas in favour of pan-Hindu political

action.6

 

Klostermaier, it may be noted, also uses the term 'denominational' in

referring to traditional sampradayas, but with denotation and

connotation markedly different from what I, following sociologists

Ernst Troeltsch and Talcott Parsons, am using for 'denomination'. For

Klostermaier, the denomination is intolerant, intent upon imposing

its position on others: 'Denominational religions likewise have

predominantly partisan interests; they want to see their particular

doctrines adopted, their sectarian expressions of religion imposed

upon people, their numbers of followers increased.'7 'Denomination',

as the sociologists I am following in this regard use the term, means

a religious group, the membership of which is voluntary (at least in

principle), and which group (in contrast with a 'church') does not

claim to control the social and economic-political life of the region

in which it is present, nor does it (in contrast with a 'sect') urge

its members to withdraw from social and economic-political activities

of the region.

 

Klostermaier also notes that the ideal of the sannyasi as withdrawn

from mundane life is being replaced by one which places the sannyasi

in the forefront of even the political dimension of the Hindu

jagaran, 'Hindu awakening'. He notes in particular how Vivekananda

and Gandhi are seen as prototypes for this modern merging of

asceticism and religion with politics, though in ways different from

how Gandhi, if not Vivekananda, would have done it. Alluding to the

non-violence and humility traditionally attributed to Vaishnavas, he

writes pointedly: 'A rather radical rethinking and readaptation may

be necessary in the context of Vaishnavism.' 8 That such a 'radical

re-thinking and re-adaptation' might indeed be required reinforces my

hypothesis that bhakti movements, especially Vaishnava ones, may be

so different in values from the Hindutva cause as to provide

resistance to the spread of Hindu communalism - unless, of course,

they give up their distinctiveness, in effect cease to be the kinds

of devotional sampradayas that have been till now. Klostermaier makes

the following observations:

 

Objectively speaking, the rhetoric of today's RSS is much more

restrained as compared to that of 'guru' Golwalkar and 'Vir'

Savarkar. . . To the credit of RSS and VHP representatives whom I

met, it must be said that they are intelligent, upright and

purposeful persons. They know their Indian history, they have a keen

eye for the ills under which India is suffering, they have a strong

commitment to the well-being of India . . . Whether one likes it or

not, there is no doubt that most of Indian culture is Hindu

culture . . . A society has no doubt the right to defend its own

culture . . .

And here we have to sound a warning note. If Hinduism becomes

intolerant it will lose its own soul and be little more than an

ideology, an instrument in the hands of unscrupulous

politicians . . . Religion instead of acting as the independent

arbiter of public life, the conscience of a people, will be part and

parcel of the oppressive system itself and will sell its soul for the

sake of power.9

 

Klostermaier, it should be noted, does not make explicit how

extensive is the base of empirical evidence on which he is

generalising; nor is it altogether clear whether his more general

observations apply equally to Vrindavana and Uttar Pradesh as a

whole. His Vrindavana evidence per se cited in the article in

question focuses on two individuals and their immediate associates:

the late Swami B. H. Bon Maharaj, founder head of the Institute of

Oriental Philosophy, at whose ashram Klostermaier lived in 1962-64;

and Padmanabha Goswami, currently a hereditary priest at he

Radharamana temple.

 

Swami Bon, whom I also met several times between 1965 and 1978, was

an East Bengali Brahmin disciple of Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati,

founder of the revivalist Gaudiya Math (and thus a guru-brother of

Swami A. C. Bhaktivedanta, founder of the International Society for

Krishna Consciousness [iSKCON]). He was a talented and strong-willed

man, a disciplined ascetic, an articulate intellectual keen to see

Vaishnava theology at the forefront of modern religious thought in

India and worldwide.10 Swami Bon's main scholarly publication, done

with the aid of another scholar, was an English translation of the

first quarter of Rupa Goswami's Bhakti-rasamrita-sindhu, with

paraphrases of several commentaries.

 

When the Gaudiya Math ruptured upon the death of its founder, Swami

Bon joined none of the hostile factions, but settled at Vrindavana,

where he eventually built his own ashram with Krishna temple and a

samadhi temple for himself. He also ran a school for boys at

Nandagram, not far from Vrindavana. He had wanted to found a

Vaishnava (not Hindu, it may be noted) Theological University at

Vrindavana, but his vision was cut down to the size of a small

college under the University of Agra. It was called the Institute of

Oriental Philosophy, however, as it included a small, not very

productive, post-graduate research section.

 

I stayed briefly at Swami Bon's ashram twice in 1965-67 and again in

1975. He once stayed at our home in Toronto for a few days in the mid

1970's. We last met during Gaura-Purnima (Holi) at Sri Mayapur, West

Bengal in 1978, not long before his death. His Toronto visit was part

of a North America tour to generate support for his last grand

project: a Vrindavana-based institute for advanced studies in

religion, replete with endowed chairs for distinguished scholars of

various religions. Like some of his other more ambitious schemes, it

did not come to fruition.

 

Swami Bon, though he had spent several years of voluntary austerity

in an underground cell, had a public and even political side to him.

He once served as president of an all-India sadhus association, and

even stood (unsuccessfully) as a Lok Sabha (parliament) candidate of

the Ram Rajya Parisad, a Hindu party headed by a Vaishnava ascetic,

Swami Karpatri. According to Klostermaier, there were in the early

1960s several members of the Hindu nationalist RSS (Rashtriya

Swayamsevak Sangh/ National Volunteer Corps) on the staff of the

Institute of Oriental Philosophy, but he does not say that Swami Bon

was ever an RSS man. 11 Klostermaier recalls how Swami Bon used to

rant against the 'atheism' of the Nehru Government-perhaps reflecting

disappointment that his envisioned Vaishnava Theological University

was being thwarted, a theme I too recall him voicing.

 

Klostermaier's other example of Hindu communal politics among

Vrindavana Vaishnavas is Padmanabha Goswami, one of a large lineage

of hereditary priests of the Radharamana temple. These Goswamis are

descendants of the priest deputed by one of Chaitanya's learned

disciples, Gopala Bhatta, to serve his consecrated Krishna murti

(image) named Radharamana. I do not recall having met or heard of

Padmanabha Goswami and do not know how much he maintains the

devotional and cultural traditions of a Chaitanya Vaishnava Goswami.

When asked by Klostermaier in 1992 about the RSS in Vrindavana,

Padmanabha was initially 'taken aback'; but then he took Klostermaier

into his confidence. He told him that 'he himself was the local RSS

chief, an active member of the Vishva Hindu Parishad . . . and that

he was also involved with the Bharatiya Janata Party, which had

recently organised the Ramitula Yatra, during which he (Padmanabha)

had been arrested and then released on Government orders.' 12

Padmanabha showed Klostermaier documents and publications of the

Hindu communalist organisations, briefed him on coming events in

India and abroad, and had him address a meeting of RSS and VHP

members.

 

Subsequently, Padmanabha took Klostermaier to meet Swami Vamadeva,

founder of the Akhil Bharatiya Sant Samiti, and Swami Muktananda, the

current Secretary General of the Samiti. Swami Vamadeva is of a

Dasnami order, often considered theological adversaries by Vaishnavas

like the Chaitanyaites. This prompted Klostermaier to observe:

 

While the more conservative among the Vaishnavas in Vrindaban

consider the increasing influx of 'Mayavadis' as unwelcome and

objectionable, people like Padmanabha Goswami . . . appreciate the

strong political leadership provided by men like Vamadeva and

Muktananda, their eloquence on behalf of the Hindu cause, and their

unequivocal hostility towards the 'secular' government.13

 

Comparative Assessment and Suggestions for Further Inquiry

What then is really going on among Chaitanya Vaishnavas in

Vrindavana, their main centre outside Bengal? Are they generally

becoming Hindu communalists? Or are 'the conservatives among them'

(those for whom religion still means krishna-bhakti in the

distinctive Chaitanya Vaishnava mode) retaining their influence and

the integrity of their kind of bhakti? Klostermaier's portrayal

of 'the new dharma of Braj' suggests that there is indeed a major

shift going on in Braj, from traditional to modern, from apolitical

to political, from specifically Vaishnava to generically Hindu, from

non-violent accommodation to violent confrontation. This may or may

not be the case, but persuasive empirical evidence of such a shift is

yet to be supplied.

 

Apart from Padmanabha Goswami, the only Chaitanya Vaishnava of any

prominence at Vrindavana identified by Klostermaier as involved in

Hindu communal politics, namely Swami Bon, has been dead for fifteen

years; and the high point of his involvement was back in the 1950s.

Thereafter it was theology and comparative religious philosophy that

he was promoting, not religio-political theology and partisan

politics. Moreover, it was specifically Chaitanya Vaishnava theology

that was at the centre of his theological-cum-philosophical projects,

not generic Hinduism, let alone ideological Hindutva. Swami Bon could

as well be characterised as moving away from religious politics and

communal Hinduism for the last thirty years of his life, though he

still wished to see Vaishnava and other modes of religious life more

prominent in Indian and world affairs. The Swami remained critical of

incompetence, corruption and 'atheism' in high places. But I find it

difficult to imagine him condoning the vulgarity and barbarism of

recent Hindu communal political agitations.

 

We have as yet no adequate evidence of trends within the Vrindavana

Vaishnava population, though one may suspect that trends toward

greater Hindu communalism, so evident elsewhere in Uttar Pradesh, are

at work in Vrindavana itself, especially among the many individuals

who are there by birth, rather than by devotional choice. But this

too remains conjecture in the absence of empirical study. However, it

does seem to me to be both interesting and important-on theoretical

as well as practical grounds - to ask whether the concentration of

Vaishnava devotees of Krishna (from the Chaitanya sampradaya and

several others) at Vrindavana correlates with greater reinforcement

of or more resistance to Hindu communalism (or shows no significant

difference) when compared with other towns of comparable size in

Uttar Pradesh, but without such a concentration of traditional

religious personnel and institutional resources.

 

It might also be informative to compare the respective attitudes

toward Hindu communal politics in towns or cities held to be

especially sacred respectively by each of several different Hindu

denominations or sampradayas. If it could be determined that

Vrindavana, or any other towns where the 'density' or 'intensity' of

a bhakti movement is very high, has a significantly greater

resistance to Hindu communalism, it might point to an as yet under-

appreciated and under-utilised source of resilience on the part of

traditional Hindu socio-cultural and religious system, with its

pluralistic, accommodating, even 'secular' (in sense proposed earlier

in this essay) characteristics. If the correlation should prove to be

otherwise, so also, of course, would the implications be otherwise.

 

Finally, to generalise the issue, it would seem to me to be useful to

do a study of those 'religious' individuals and institutions most

prominent in the Vishva Hindu Parishad (and any other Hindu

communalist organisations) to determine just what is the distribution

of Hindu sampradayas to be found therein. How representative of, and

influential in, the respective sampradayas are the individuals who

are (or appear to be) representing the sampradayas in these communal

organisations? Does the representation of sampradayas as found in

such Hindu communalist organisations more or less reflect the

distribution of sampradayas in the country (or region) as a whole? If

not, what are the correlations between particular sampradayas and

participation in Hindu communalist organisations? If any striking

correlations, high or low, of particular sampradayas with

participation in the communalist organisations emerge, then these

cases might be selected for more intensive study to discover why

there is such unusual involvement or non-involvement in (or overt

opposition to) Hindu communal politics. Whatever may be the case with

other traditional bhakti sampradayas, it would be very surprising to

me if, upon more thorough scrutiny, the Chaitanya Vaishnavas were to

emerge as at all prominent in the current surge of Hindu communal

politics. On the other hand, whether they have (or are likely to) put

up serious resistance to that surge is another question, one well

worth further inquiry.

 

This article was originally published

in the 'Journal of Vaishnava Studies', Vol. 5, No.1

 

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