Hindus: Their Religious Beliefs and Practices (The Library of Religious Beliefs and Practices)

by Julius Lipner

  But this received view is not only simplistic, it is also problematic, and has been contested on several grounds in the wake of modern scholarship. For convenience, let us call, as scholars now do, the original Sanskrit speakers in the subcontinent, the ‘Indo-Aryans’. Where did they really come from? Broadly speaking, there are two camps in the debate about their homeland. One camp, the ‘migrationists’ – historically led by Western experts, though experts of South Asian origin also fall into this camp – argue that the Indo-Aryans came originally from outside the subcontinent, though there is no clear agreement as to where this might be (the central Asian steppes, or the area near the Caspian Sea, seem to be preferred candidates, though the route the Indo-Aryans would have taken to the subcontinent is subject to further debate). With the passage of time – probably by way of steady trickles or perhaps surges of movement – the Indo-Aryans had sufficient presence in the north-western regions of India to supersede, through their language and culture, the native or indigenous peoples, either by processes of displacement or through intermingling. It was in this context that their earliest Indian scriptures, the Veda, were formulated, and gradually, over centuries, the subcontinent was dominated by the Vedic Sanskritic culture, and what we call Hinduism then developed.

  Can we put dates to the early phases? The ‘traditional scenario’ places the migration of the Indo-Aryans in about 1200–1000 B.C.E. But for reasons that we shall go into, this date has generally been abandoned by the migrationist camp as being too late. The date of critical Indo-Aryan presence in the subcontinent has now been put back to 1900–1600 B.C.E.

  But the second camp, the ‘indigenists’ – largely, but not exclusively, comprising experts of South Asian origin – argue that the subcontinent itself is the original homeland of the so-called Indo-Aryans. The Indo-Aryans did not migrate into India as the migrationists would have us believe (indeed, some groups of this culture may well have migrated out of India into central Asia at some stage): the language of their elite strata, Sanskrit, and the scripture composed in this language, the Veda, were both indigenous or native creations, and Hinduism that derived from this, is mainly a home-grown product (there may have been minor external influences through trade, etc.). Starting dates in this view tend to be pushed back even further, perhaps by about a thousand or more years for the composition of early parts of the Veda, by the more credible members of this group.

  The reader will have guessed by now that this debate has been bedevilled by ideological considerations, exacerbated by the fact that historically the protagonists of the migrationist camp have been Westerners. Many of the South Asian indigenists appear reluctant to accept the view that the origins of Hindu culture derive from outside the subcontinent (this stance has been politicized by non-experts, both on the right and the left, for ideological purposes); however, some who do have relevant expertise in this group profess to have no ideological bias but claim to resort to objective criteria in developing their arguments.

  So let us look very briefly now at the type of arguments used by both camps.5 One of the strengths of the migrationist view has been comparative linguistic and philological expertise (which has been generally lacking in the indigenist position). This is expertise about the formation, comparative development, and spread of languages. Based on their research in these areas, the migrationists argue that though the Veda may have been largely composed in northern India, the roots of Vedic Sanskrit were not native to the subcontinent, and that one can trace the early development of the language from outside, from west of modern-day Iran; it then spread eastwards into the subcontinent. They adduce strong data in this regard, and a number of these scholars go on to point out how the Vedic scriptures themselves display an increasing awareness of the landmass of India, moving eastwards and southwards, as they develop over time.6 They conclude from this that the whole movement of the spread of Vedic and later forms of Sanskrit was from the north-west of the subcontinent towards the east and the south.

  But these scholars resort additionally to archaeological evidence. They point to the absence of archaeological remains in the right place and time in the subcontinent, of the horse (viz. the species Equus caballus) and the spoked-wheel chariot;both these items, however, play a big part in the culture of the Indo-Aryans described in the early Vedic texts (so they must have been brought from outside the subcontinent).

  The spoked-wheel chariot also is fundamental to Aryan identification. If the Aryans were a principal linguistic community [in the north-western Indian landmass], their existence there should be confirmed not only by the horse but also by the spoked-wheel chariot. This piece of technology called ratha in Sanskrit is common to the Indo-European peoples, since, like the horse, its nomenclature has cognates in Indo-Iranian, Italic, Celtic, Baltic, and Germanic. Likewise, the terms for the parts of the chariot – the wagonpole, harness, yoke and wheel nave – also have cognates generously distributed in various Indo-European languages [outside the subcontinent] ... [T]he Indo-Aryans certainly utilized the technology after the dispersion of the various Indo-European tribes, an inference evidenced by the central role [the chariot] plays in the Veda (which parallels its importance in other old Indo-European texts such as the Homeric hymns). The quest for the Indo-Aryans, then, as a result of a logic analogous to that impelling archaeologists to look for the horse, unavoidably involves searching for archaeological evidence of the chariot.

  (Bryant 2001:175–6)

  But this evidence has not been forthcoming in such a way as to suggest that the Indo-Aryans were native to the subcontinent. However, as the indigenist camp points out, the north-western landmass of India is very large, horse and chariot remains are brittle, and the fact that these have not been discovered – as yet – in the appropriate archaeological strata, does not mean they aren't there. So this isn't yet conclusive proof that the Indo-Aryans migrated (with their horses and chariots) into the subcontinent at some point in the history of the early civilization of the Indus region.

  And so to the arguments of the indigenists. Some of these are on the negative side, and some on the positive. On the negative side, the indigenists, generally regarded as weak in the appropriate linguistic expertise themselves, tend to dismiss the philological and historical–linguistic arguments of their opponents. Some contend that these arguments do not arise out of a genuine, scholarly discipline;others seek diligently (sometimes tortuously) to provide alternative indigenist explanations for the linguistic points made by the migrationists.

  However, on the positive side, the indigenists make more of the archaeological data available. Take, for example, numerous references in the early Veda to a river called the ‘Sarasvatī’ (as opposed to the Indus, which was more likely to be referred to by the word sindhu). In fact, not so long ago, ‘archaeological researches in the Cholistan desert have uncovered the bed of a once-massive river – up to ten kilometers wide – situated between the Yamunā and the Sutlej, exactly where the gveda places the Sarasvatī’ (Bryant 2001:166). If this identification is correct, then Vedic culture had a much earlier start than the traditional migrationist scenario postulated. Does this mean that the Indo-Aryans were an indigenous people? Certainly this discovery has moved many in the migrationist party to push the date of the Veda, and so the critical presence of the Indo-Aryans in the region, about a thousand years back, to account for the slow process of the drying-up of this river-bed.

  Warming to their theme, the indigenists also argue that there is no archaeological evidence from skeletal and other remains to indicate that the Indo-Aryans migrated along some route from the west of India into the subcontinent. ‘Why should there be?’ counter the migrationists: ‘language is not necessarily tied to material culture’. Several peoples of different ethnic backgrounds can speak the same language, and several languages can be spoken by folk of the same ethnicity, so skeletal remains etc. need not show up whether a particular language has been on the move. And so the debate continues, interestingly but frustratingly co
ntentious to date.

  At its best, and relying on the archaeological data, it seems that the indigenist view can be formulated as follows: ‘It seems clear that the dried-up river noted earlier is the Sarasvatī mentioned in the g Veda, and that a stretch of this river in the Bahawalpur desert of today was at the core of the original, pre-Vedic, Indus civilization [about which more in due course]. This area shows a continuous and uninterrupted archaeological sequence from ca. 4000 B.C.E. up to its late phase soon after 2000 B.C.E., as the river begins to dry up. During this process, one can detect a steady shifting of sites to the east, to the presently named areas of Haryana, Punjab, Delhi and Uttar Pradesh. The civilization of this region slowly transformed itself in different places, interacted with the less developed farming and hunting-gathering communities of ‘inner’ India, contributed to the development of plough agriculture there, and formed the basis of the mainstream Indian development that we see today.

  Where does one place the Vedas in this archaeological story? One places them within the uninterrupted flow of this archaeological sequence (there was no latter-day intrusion from outside the subcontinent, since there is no genuine linguistic or archaeological evidence to prove this!). By the time people lived on the banks of the Sarasvatī and began to compose the g Vedic verses, the dispersal of the Aryan language-family in the subcontinent, which happened with the spread of some wheat–barley agriculturists from their primary pockets in west Asia, was already very old, with a long history of some 3000 years behind it. So the Veda developed in the fold of the various phases of the Indus civilization, not from outside it, and perhaps formed the core of this civilization's religious, philosophical and moral beliefs and practices. The basic texture of this scenario accords fully with the archaeological story that has evolved in the last two decades or so.’7 This would mean that the language and culture of the Indus civilization from its inception would be ‘Indo-Aryan’ too, and not something qualitatively different or ‘Dravidian’ (to use the term usually applied in this context).

  What is my own position on the matter? Politics apart, and on the basis of the evidence presently available, it seems to me that, on balance, the migrationists have the edge so far. I regard the philological and historical–linguistic evidence as, on the whole, quite decisive, though the archaeological evidence (or lack of it) to date forces us to alter appreciably the traditional scenario and to refrain from making final pronouncements. One or two surprises might yet be in store for both camps. Nevertheless, I believe that the evidence available allows us to say at present that the Indo-Aryans, mainly pastoralists but also agriculturists to some extent, came with the rudiments of their Vedic culture from outside the subcontinent, and began to dominate the cultural landscape from 2000 B.C.E. or so. We await developments on this subject with interest.

  In light of this debate, what follows is partially reconstruction, and partially based on textual evidence. Presuming that the Indo-Aryans did have an external origin, they would have been impressed by the fast-flowing waters comprising the Indus and its tributaries as they settled the north-western areas of the subcontinent (including the Sarasvatī region). Indeed, ‘Indus’ seems to have been derived from references to a river or rivers of such waters called Sindhu in the g Veda (see RV. 5.53.9;8.20.24).8 Perhaps these waters reminded them of similar streams endowed with mystical and regenerative properties in some distant homeland, running through land that was naturally arid. Sindhu in the plural (viz. sindhavaṣ) means rivers in general, often with an emphasis on their life-giving qualities; by association, this plural term was also used to refer to those who lived on the banks of this northern riverine system. Thus sindhu seems to have started out with geographical and cultural connotations, rather than with specifically ‘religious’ ones in the contemporary sense of implying a particular set of ritual and mental activities. The name ‘Sind’, which designates the sub-Punjab area of the Indus today, is derived from this usage.

  In the middle of the first millennium B.C.E. the Persians, under Darius I, began to conquer the southern Indus region. This territory was annexed ‘to the Persian empire as a satrapy called in Old Persian Hinduš’ (Parpola 1994:4b). This term seems clearly to have been derived from sindhu, and was both geographical and cultural, designating the land and peoples around and beyond the Sindhu riverine system. From this we see that the generally accepted view that ‘Hindu’ is an outsider-term, imposed on the ancient inhabitants of the subcontinent by foreigners, is not accurate. ‘Hindu’ is derived from insider-usage, since it comes from sindhu, the word used in Sanskrit to refer to the rushing and life-giving waters of the Punjab region. However, the ancient Persian description was undiscerning: it lumped all those it tended to describe culturally into one heap, a practice that persisted when foreigners sought to name all those who lived on and beyond the riverine boundary. This was the case despite the fact that the Vedic Indians themselves soon outgrew their original use of the term sindhu and began to describe different aspects of their developing identity in different ways. It was only much later, from about the sixteenth century C.E., that ‘Hindu’ was adopted as a generic self-description by groups of Indians in a context distinguishing them from others, a practice that has become commonplace in modern times. We shall return to this point in due course.

  In the last quarter of the fourth century B.C.E., Alexander of Macedon swept through the former Persian empire and invaded the north-west of the subcontinent.9 Now Greek civilization became a force to contend with in the area. Taking their cue from the Persians, the Greeks referred to this region as India and to its inhabitants by the vague term Indikoi (the Latin equivalents being India, Indi, etc.) – hence ‘India’ and ‘Indian’. Similarly, the Arabic word for India was ‘al-Hind’. The Muslims, as their contact with the subcontinent increased from early in their history (that is, from the tenth century C.E.), tended to refer to those who dwelt in this land but who were neither Buddhist nor Muslim, as ‘Hindus’. Here a religio-cultural sense dominated. This is the sense consistently used by the Muslim observer, al-Biruni, in his famous account of the Hindu way of life, written in about 1030 C.E. It is significant that al-Biruni concentrated on the beliefs and practices of the Brahmins – those who belonged to the highest caste of the Hindus – since it was his view that ‘the main and most essential point of the Hindu world of thought is that which the Brahmins think and believe, for they are specially trained for preserving and maintaining their religion’.10

  Is Hinduism then best summed up as ‘the Brahmin way of life’? The answer depends on one's perspective. Most Hindus were not and are not Brahmins. In fact, statistically the number of Brahmins in the Hindu population has always been rather small (in the very low percentage points overall). Many, especially those in circumstances most vulnerable to the traditional exercise of Brahmin power, understandably resent being represented by or assimilated into Brahminic culture. But it is undeniable that, from earliest times in Hinduism, Brahminic culture has overshadowed the Hindu way of life. ‘Brahminic culture’ is not uniform, and must be understood as the beliefs and practices that have been propagated or ratified by Brahmin authority. Brahminic culture includes atheism, agnosticism and theism; monism, monotheism and polytheism; traditional caste practices and their rejection or re-interpretation; the practice of widely divergent kinds of rites and rituals;and disparate understandings of Hindu dharma (that is, of what may be regarded as an acceptable way of life, socially and religiously). All these headings, played out in innumerable combinations historically in the vast fabric of the Hindu banyan, have been subject in one way or another to the influence of Brahmin authority. From the beginning of Hinduism as we know it, Brahmin and non-Brahmin Hindus alike have had to articulate their identity in terms of Brahminic culture, irrespective of whether they have challenged or accepted it, rebelled or acquiesced. It is for this reason, then, that this book will have much to say on Brahminic culture, though we shall have plenty of opportunity to discover how nebulous this concept is.
I do not wish to make the mistake of assimilating Hinduism to Brahminic culture; I merely wish to stress the latter's undeniable pervasive influence, for good or ill.

  The vehicle par excellence of Brahminic culture – its flagship language – has been Sanskrit, including Vedic Sanskrit. It would be true to say, I think, that for all of its history, Brahminic culture in the broad sense noted has been propagated either through Sanskrit or by (sometimes notional) reference to what have been regarded as normative Sanskrit texts. This has had interesting linguistic and political repercussions for the vernacular languages of the land. It was only from the nineteenth century that the practice of transmitting Brahminic culture via the actual use of Sanskrit began to wane. However, the process of ‘Sanskritization’, the imposition/acceptance of Sanskritic norms into Hindu culture, continued – and continues – in important ways. We shall return to Sanskrit and Sanskritization later.

  So, we may ask, if Hinduism pivots on Brahminic culture, and if the Brahmins comprise Hinduism's highest caste, is caste an essential feature of the Hindu way of life? This is a moot point. The fact is that, for the overwhelming majority of Hindus in the history of the subcontinent, having a caste status has been probably the distinguishing feature of their identity within Hinduism. Their caste has determined or significantly influenced their occupation, marriage prospects, community relations, social movements and mobility, educational prospects, the futures of their children, even religious beliefs and practices. But there have always been groups who could, without too much difficulty, be included under the canopy of the Hindu banyan and who have tried to live their lives outside caste's constricting parameters. In the nineteenth century, members of a number of reformist groups repudiated their former high-caste obligations in no uncertain terms. But generally they still regarded themselves as Hindu – indeed, as quintessentially Hindu – and were in fact treated as Hindus, outcasted or otherwise, by both Hindus and non-Hindus. The Ligāyats, who have had a recognizable identity in India for nearly a thousand years and who dominate parts of modern Karnataka State in the south, theoretically at least reject traditional caste divisions and practices. Yet for all practical purposes they are regarded as Hindus (with caste-affiliations) by non-Ligāyats.11