And today, one of the centres of these battles is the ancient Harappan civilisation. For today’s Hindutva warriors, the people of the Harappan civilisation was home not to migrants or invaders but to indigenous people who participated in the great Vedic Age. Propaganda and assertion replace study and painstaking discovery and discussion. And unfortunately, it is also by intimidation, physical destruction (of museums, artefacts) and mass mobilisations that increasingly characterise the march of this militant Hinduism.
It’s not surprising then that the celebrated Indian artist MF Husain (the ‘Picasso of India’) was chased out of India in 2006 because of his nude depictions of Hindu goddesses or Penguin Books’ decision to pulp the international scholar Wendy Doniger’s book The Hindus: An Alternative History in 2014 because of the campaign by militant ‘Hindus’, the third book to be withdrawn over a number of weeks. The message seems to be not to fall out with these militant Hindu groups, these “fanatics” as Pankaj Mishra describes them who see “traditional Indian religions as a threat to their project of a culturally homogenous and militant nation-state.”
Given the linguistic, religious, cultural and historical diversity of the peoples who reside in India, an accepted version of ‘Indian civilisation’ is difficult. On a variety of different measures for example North India is very different from the south. These difficulties as mentioned above have not prevented the BJP and its associated organisations from aggressively promoting a version of ‘Hindu civilisation’ based on Hindutva throughout the whole of the country. Communalism is a widely used term in South Asia and highlights differences (usually religious) between people. Followers of a particular religion or ‘community’ are seen increasingly as incompatible, antagonistic and hostile. Hindutva is an Islamophobic, religious-communal, intolerant prejudice. The successful campaign by the BJP in the 2014 national elections was India’s most communal campaign ever. Not surprisingly, India’s Parliament (Lok Sabha) today has its lowest ever Muslim representation and without a single Muslim member from the state of Uttar Pradesh, which has around 40 million Muslims. ‘What it is to be an Indian today’ is not some academic conference title or philosophical tract; instead, it is the subject of political demonstrations, riots in the street, ransacking and destroying libraries and mass rallies. As William Dalrymple put it in an excellent summary and review of various Indian books in the New York Review of Books (in 2005 before the 2014 election of the BJP), the “roots of the current conflict can be traced back to two rival conceptions of history which began to diverge in the 1930s, in the struggle for freedom from the British Raj.” On the one hand there was the push for national unity between Hindus and Muslims under Mahatma Gandhi and Jawaharlal Nehru. In contrast there were the extreme Hindu nationalists some of whom established the paramilitary RSS, who campaigned for the return of what they saw as the lost Hindu golden age of national strength and purity. The BJP was created as the political wing of the RSS. The problem for Hindutva promoters and historians though was India’s Muslims and the spread of Islam and, secondly, the religious tolerance of many of the Muslim Mughal rulers, especially Akbar (1542–1605). There was another small historical problem. The early Harappan settlers in India the evidence suggested, and as most people agree, were Aryan who arrived in India from Iran. Wrong, argued the guru of Hindutva, Madhav Golwalkar (an admirer of fascism and Nazism). “The Hindus came into this land from nowhere, but are indigenous children of the soil always, from times immemorial,” he wrote.
The solution from the mid-1980s onwards was simply to rewrite history demonising Islam and the Muslims and asserting Hindu glory and, more recently, rewrite school history books peppered with ahistorical myths, intimidate and threaten those who disagree, take over the regulating scholarly bodies and research institutes, challenge physically and through the courts scholarly texts which are anti-Hindutva, subvert the judiciary and broadcasting institutions, destroying religious buildings and so on. It’s called the ‘saffronisation’ of society. Legitimating the Hindutva past provides the basis for political tasks today, to manipulate identities with the object of the ‘Hinduisation of everything’.
In contrast to these Hindutva warriors, the dominant and perhaps most memorable view on Indian history and ‘civilisation’ was from that of those heroes of independent India, Jawaharlal Nehru and Mahatma Gandhi. Yet there is that famous but ambiguous quote from Nehru’s book published on the eve of Independence in 1947 The Discovery of India, where he writes of “the continuity of a cultural tradition through five thousand years of history.” British rule he continued was a mere blip in the long continuous history of the country. The key to modern India, he argued perhaps confusingly, was “ancient India.” The key to understanding Indian civilisation was its past. Despite communal differences between Muslims and Hindus (especially around the time of Independence) Nehru argued that: “Indian civilization… was essentially based on stability and security and from this point of view it was far more successful than any that arose in the West.” What united the different elements of this civilisation was the “same national heritage and the same set of moral and mental qualities.” As with Nehru, Gandhi dismissed Western civilisation – “a civilisation only in name.” Indian civilisation by contrast was characterised by its “traditional” qualities. Its strengths were its continuity and unchangeability based on its village communities within the framework of beneficial caste divisions. Later chapters will look more closely at both Nehru and Gandhi.
Until recently, states in India did not have fixed or clearly demarcated boundaries. Instead, areas under the control of particular dynasties or empires flowed and ebbed over time, growing and contracting according to internal developments and external influences. Adding to these complexities is the natural understandable continuing process of rewriting history in the light of new evidence, discoveries and perspectives. The situation today though is of a different order to those traditionally characterising the historian’s craft, and a lot more worrying. The communal interpretation of history into Hindu and Muslim periods might have been seen as sufficient for the occupying British colonial administration but surely is unacceptable in the twenty-first century. Interpreting the history of India through the use of crude religious stereotypes risks damaging a rich heritage defined by its very opposite – its rich cultural, religious, linguistic and ethnic diversity.
For the overseas tourist as well as those from within the country, the history of India is as Michael Wood puts it, “a tale of incredible drama, of great inventions and phenomenal creativity, and of the biggest ideas.” It is a country of big history. For the regular returners to the country, maybe this is part of the reason – and one of their secrets – on why they keep coming back. Recent political developments, however, seem threatened by this notion of ‘big history’.
Chapter 4
Konkani blues
Magical Goa
For nearly everyone, Goa punches above its weight. For many overseas tourists, Goa is India. For Indians themselves it is more complicated – proud that a part of their country attracts so many overseas tourists yet bewildered, bemused and ultimately baffled at the sometimes hedonistic behaviour and narrow interests of these visitors. The marketing brochures and daily stories appearing in the media do little to disturb the caricatures of widespread extremes in the single-minded pursuit of ‘pleasure’. Certainly, there are activities and issues that not only warrant anger and protest by locals and visitors alike in Goa, but civilised behaviour as we know it is not ending (yet). For young people from abroad, it is not difficult to see the allure of Goa. Wonderful beaches, many of them unspoilt, cheap accommodation, alcohol and good food together with unchanging blue skies and dependable sunshine all contribute towards ‘partying’ in the middle of Western winters. For the older visitors, the attractions are similar but with less of the partying, I assume. There are few places in the world that provide this mixture of beach, climate, affordability and relaxation although Southeast Asia is fast coming up
behind Goa. Anyone visiting other coastlines in India, especially the Bay of Bengal eastern coast, immediately notices the differences. In the main, Indians don’t do beaches but they do in Goa, big time.
In Goa, even those travelling as part of a package tour are unlikely to remain within their hotel complex. Instead they will be out and about, savouring and exploring experiences unplanned a few weeks ago. For most people, and especially tourists, Goa is its beaches. The coastal area probably accounts for 90 plus per cent of all tourists with its extensive tourist infrastructure that caters to its customers’ wants, whether this be drink, travel, food or ‘experiences’. It might be a little ramshackled, unorganised and sometimes unreliable but it all seems to work. No one anyway is in a hurry. And in general, it is a safe place although there are periodic incidents that shatter any complacency and that go ‘viral’.
At the centre of this infrastructure are the local inhabitants, often non-Goans. Noticeable is an easy-going confidence and friendliness that characterises relationships and conversations between locals and their visitors, again unlike the rest of India where there is less confidence and a greater reticence. Familiarity and experience provide the bedrock of this friendliness. In Goa as in most of the rest of the developing world, participation in the tourist industry in any way possible is not only better than options back ‘home’ but also can be very financially rewarding. Families or at least women and their children from Kashmir are common sellers of tourist clothing on roadside stalls, extended families from Nepal run a number of restaurants in particular locations and women from particular villages in the neighbouring state of Karnataka seem to dominate beach sales. Most of the visiting workers return ‘home’ around April, once the main tourist season has finished and come back in September or October. This regular routine is a way of life and seems to result in this working knowledge of tourist culture, language and behaviour. The number of non-Goans working in Goa are a persistent grumble in the newspapers. Some estimates put the number of non-Goans living in Goa at around 40% and fuel a continuing debate and controversy about ‘who is a Goan’ and ‘where is Goa heading’.
In many ways, Goa is a tourist bubble, distinct from the rest of the country and yet part of that country. Ironically it is this contradictory character of the state that provides much of the interest for me at least. Everything in Goa seems part of, yet different from, India – the culture, its history, the food, the alcohol laws, its religion as well as its aspirations and grumbles.
I never wanted to visit Goa. The reputation and hype surrounding the state in the 1970s onwards put me off not only Goa but India in general. Forty years on and I’ve changed my mind. Maybe a little late but eventually I got there. I enjoy visiting India and Goa. Much of the hype surrounding Goa is still there but it is less intense than in the early days. Perhaps this is due today to different categories of tourists visiting the state – people on short package tours and, above all, Indian tourists from the nearby large metropolitan centres such as Mumbai or Bangalore. The cliché that is often repeated about ‘Goa not being India’ contains much that is true; but then again, there are different Goas. For such a small state, Goa offers a wide diversity of experiences and its many tourists must find in general what they are looking for – be that the nightlife, the sunshine, birdwatching, noisy parties or the warm sea waters on unspoilt beaches of the Arabian Sea. India’s smallest state (with a population of only around a million and half people) faces the warm Arabian Sea and is bounded by Maharashtra in the north and Karnataka to the east and south. Most of Goa is part of a rugged coastline escarpment known as the Konkan, that part of India that separates the western coastline from the mountainous Western Ghats which run up India’s western coastline. Since obtaining state status within India in 1987, Konkani has been recognised as the sole official language of Goa. It is spoken by around 70% of the population and is understood by most Goans.
Goa of course is very closely associated with tourism, and for very good reasons. The palm-fringed beaches pictured in all the holiday brochures actually do exist. Prices over the years have remained low and the climate is dependably hot. In the south of the state – the area that I am most familiar with – there remains a relaxed, informal and unhurried pace to life for visitors. Major outside capital projects such as luxurious hotels or ‘resorts’ have not greatly impacted (yet) on the numerous, family-run ‘homestays’ or rented room accommodation. ‘Time share’ developments are increasingly attracting domestic tourists (from Bombay and Bangalore especially) as well as those from overseas. Most of the tourists, however, tend to visit and appreciate the local, make-do facilities rather than the all-encompassing services of the hotel or timeshare. The famed ‘shacks’ alongside parts of the beaches continue to provide a major focus for the tourists. Because of the numerous regulations centred on what can and cannot be done near to the sea, the beachfronts themselves remain remarkably underdeveloped, sometimes scruffy but in the main beautiful. Away from the beaches, tourist stalls and shops are proliferating, all selling a similar narrow range of goods. Most of the stalls are managed, but perhaps not owned, by non-Goans who work long hours seven days a week throughout the tourist season before returning ‘home’ to other parts of India between April and September. Christmas is the peak period with thousands of foreigners and domestic tourists arriving for a short stay of 1–2 weeks. Festival decorations largely Christian go up a day or two before Christmas, tourist stalls are open as usual throughout the vacation – including Christmas day – and some of the restaurants would advertise a ‘special’ Christmas lunch – all very relaxed. New Year is a bigger celebration with varied firework displays starting in the early hours of the new year.
Celebrations and life in general are likely to be more hectic and intense in some of the bigger tourist spots, perhaps confirming the ‘hedonistic traveller’ image in places such as Anjuna, Calangute and Baga in north Goa, and in Palolem and Colva in the south. Almost inevitably, tourist developments over the last decade or so are benefiting the new Indian middle class, big hotel owners and shady characters looking to exploit corrupt state mechanisms as well as capturing some of the ‘tourist dollar’ (or ‘rouble’). Village economies, the environment and small vendors are usually the losers in the development of tourism in the state. The absence of Goans benefiting significantly from the economic gains in the state over the last couple of decades remains a continuing and festering issue in the media and amongst Goans.
When entering Goa for the first time by train or at the airport there is an immediate and noticeable difference to other parts of India. Panjim, the capital of the state, is a pleasant, old-fashioned and unhurried place that is of an ideal size to walk around. The splendid Mandovi River provides a handy northern boundary to the city. Originating in the Western Ghat mountains some 77 kilometres upstream, the river is at its widest and most majestic at Panjim. The river waterfront has a walkway covered in shade from the trees and with plenty of seating to take in the views of the river. On the other side of the road alongside the river is the Hotel Mandovi, a favourite of ours. Although the hotel has seen better times, the second-floor balcony or veranda overlooks the river, serves pots of tea or coffee and is rarely busy. The bookshop on the ground floor provides a good choice of local Goan literature and naturalist guides. As might be expected the huge whitewashed Church of Our Lady of the Immaculate Conception near the Municipal Gardens dominates views of Panjim but provides a useful landmark when ambling around. It was closed for repairs when we were last there but the nearby Hindu Mahalaxmi Temple provided an alternative venue to rest and watch. The cake and coffee houses, bookshops and numerous restaurants give central Panjim a slow and relaxed feel different to other cities in the country. I hate to admit it, but there is a more European feel to the town.
Along the road thirty minutes from Panjim is Old Goa, the former capital of the state. Still attracting busloads of local tourists and schoolchildren, it is today a rather dusty and faded centre of a once fa
bled glory. Historically spice and slaves provided the great wealth that characterised this capital city. Today all that remains are a collection of significant Portuguese colonial and religious buildings. Its most famous building is the Basilica of Bom Jesus, a UNESCO World Heritage site. The absence of shops, accommodation and anything to do with everyday life gives Old Goa a rather eerie feel but the splendour of its religious architecture helps overcome these peculiarities. Wide avenues and parched gardens connect the churches, chapels and monasteries. The mixture of Portuguese colonial power and a once-dominant Catholicism pervades the old city, even today.
While we were visiting Goa at the beginning of January 2015, it was surprising to see that the most important event according to the newspapers seemed to be the public veneration of the Sacred Relics of Saint Francis Xavier as part of the 17th decennial Exposition. The 44-day mega event at the Se Cathedral in Old Goa was the context for numerous articles about St Francis Xavier, his arrival in India in 1683, and also, the implied influence today of the Catholic Church. Some 200,000 visitors a day, it was reported, were visiting the silver casket containing the saint’s relics.
Portugal, Goa and India
The defining feature of Goa, old and new, is of course Portugal. After all, it was only on the 19th December 1961 that Portugal then under the rule of the fascist dictator Salazar was thrown out of Goa. It became part of the Indian nation, first as a Union Territory. On the 30th May 1987, Goa finally became a state of India with Konkani as its official language. Prior to the arrival of Portugal, waves of conquerors from overseas empires as well as neighbouring kingdoms sought control of the territory as both a prized port and as an entry to the rich hinterlands. In 1497, Vasco da Gama landed south of Goa, at Calicut. In 1510, Alfonso de Albuquerque seized what is now Old Goa. By the end of the sixteenth century, Goa (or Estado da India as it was known by the Portuguese) had developed into one of the world’s most important trading centres, and also a site of missionary activity by the Catholic Church. Corn, potatoes, chillies, cashews, papayas and other fruit were introduced, believe it or not, into India for the first time. By the mid-nineteenth century, the city on the banks of the Mandovi River was one of the richest places in the world and was bigger than London or Paris – quite incredible.
Banyan Tree Adventures Page 11