History repeats itself

Has the world plunged into a crisis, and that too permanently? The geopolitical analyst Robert Kaplan has every reason to believe so. Moreso with no such thing as linear in this world, the direction of human history is anything but unknowable. Though technology has kept evolving, roots of the permanent crisis continue to lie in what goes wrong with technology. With a sweep of history and politics, one could see similarity between today’s challenges and those of interwar years. The similarity being that every national disaster now has the potential to spread across the world, pandemic being one example. 

Waste Land both warns as well as generates hope. While it positions us as the Master of Technology, it considers us no less victims of it to a previously unimaginable degree. The entire world may seem one big now yet not connected enough to be politically coherent. But despite such cultural and even civilizational differences, a crisis at one level becomes a crisis for all. All countries are now so connected, at least technologically, that the crises have a domino effect. There are exceedingly complex set of issues that have yet to be acknowledged and resolved.

An interesting and absorbing sweep through history, literature, politics and philosophy guides Kaplan to divide the world into two broad phases, Globalization 1.0 and Globalization 2.0. While the past phase was about the spread of democracy and the enlargement of the middle class, the present phase is value-neutral but largely hostile. Furthermore, this phase is characterized by dense webwork of interactions that is a perfect fuel for sustaining permanent crisis. No wonder, Ukraine, Gaza and other major conflicts get their effects amplified, rather than assuaged. 

Considered one of the top global thinkers on Foreign Policy, Robert D. Kaplan is currently Robert Strausz-Hupe Chair in Geopolitics at the Foreign Policy Research Institute. At this time when the world is bracing uncertain geopolitics, a deadly mix of war and climate change and heady cocktail of power rivalry and technological supremacy, the future finds itself in an exceedingly fragile phase of political transition. Nothing less than a penetrating diagnosis is needed to evolve a new international order.

The world isn’t getting worse, but the point is that social and digital media in the cities, in addition to doing some good, has greater potency to ignite more geopolitical turbulence. Waste Land surmises that social media in the world-cities are the key reason why politics will continue to get complicated and challenging. Not only has complex countries like Pakistan, Nigeria, and South Africa are teetering on becoming failed state, it is getting harder to even govern countries like the United States and France. The book makes some compelling observations and tosses unprecedented challenges that mankind is likely to face. 

Kaplan has drawn an interesting parallel of the present situation with the erstwhile Weimar Republic, the semi presidential republic during the interwar period 1918-1933, which the world today find itself in an exceedingly fragile phase of technological and political transition. Much like Weimar, ours is an interconnected system of states in which no one really rules. Weimer, once a loose-limbed republic, is now a permanent condition in the world, as countries (and its people) are connected by technology to affect each other intimately.

The whole city is a web, or should it be said the entire world is a web. Social media and the digital technology only amplify crowd psychology. The Trump phenomenon was hard to imagine in an earlier age of technology. The technology has its pinball motion that oscillates between extremes of toxic narcissi and the solidarity of the mob. The future is being defined by 21 century technology but has interesting resonant with the past. Kaplan concludes that many diverse strands of culture and history are converging to make amazing new sense of things. 

Waste Land is a brilliant and engaging survey of the world before us. Grounded in a vast range of history, philosophy and literature, it provides a range of critical positions before us. It is a dark mirror held to a dangerous world that demands our attention. We seem to have little choice but to fight one, as the outcome is neither clear nor predictable. It is a cautionary tale of absolute brilliance.  

Waste Land
by Robert D. Kaplan
Hurst, London.
Extent: 207, Price: US$ 23.

First published in the Hindu Business Line dated April 26, 2025.

Much has changed but much remains the same

In the re-reading of history, Aurangzeb gets a chance to clarify his position.

It is said that things about history need to be read or understood in conjunction with the context and time. The context helps place historical events in right perspective. Else, history passing through opinion(s) over time distorts facts to suit ideological predisposition. It is another matter that the subject of history has been a casualty of ideological biases in recent times. The one who has seemingly suffered the most from such biases has been Aurangzeb, the longest serving emperor of the Mughal dynasty. Should the trend persist, his half-a-century of rule will remain fodder for promoting divisive ideologies for several more centuries.  

Despite being known to have built temples for the Hindus, Aurangzeb continues to be discredited for destroying temples only. Vilified for taxing people to amass wealth, that Aurangzeb lived off the prayer caps he sold is willfully allowed to pass. Such has been the tirade against him that even Francis Bernier’s impressions that ‘the king governed his subjects with equity and impartiality’ doesn’t value any bit. Given the tumultuous years of his half a century of rule, Aurangzeb must have evolved from an aggressive king to a pragmatic ruler. Much has been written on him but nowhere the possible transformation of a ruler ever been thought about, much less considered.

History is always written by the victor, but the case of Aurangzeb is quite in contrast. With a city and many roads named after the king already erased from the map, efforts to annul his name from the history books is a work in progress. Had it not been for his long stint as an Emperor, Aurangzeb would have been relegated as a fringe ruler many centuries ago. While most only see an antagonist in him, but it is often ignored that Aurangzeb too may have been affected by the circumstances and legacy which were nowhere under his control. Conversations with Aurangzeb allows the long-dead Mughal emperor to clear several misconceptions about him. 

Based on historical facts but written as a genre-bending novel, the narrative positions history to counter ideological impulses of the time. Translated from the Tamil, it is a distinct form of telling a story that is funny and witty but reflective and entertaining. An Aghori summons into his body the spirit of Aurangzeb to speak to the interlocutor. Once the spirit manifests in the body, it introduces itself: “I, Alamgir, born Aurangzeb, have come before you.’ There is much misinformation in history about me, the spirit argues, that I wish to clarify and set aside.

Aurangzeb makes it clear upfront that he was not cast in stone. He lets it be known that his life had three distinct sections in accordance with his age – forty to fifty, fifty to eighty-five, and eighty-five to ninety. Each section reflected different persona. One can easily be anguished by what he did and be as painful for being victimized for something he was trapped into. Without any exception, he was certainly not secular in those times. The era might have changed but not the time – isn’t deep religious portrayal a social and political virtue now? 

Such is the narrative strength of the fact-filled story that neither will it find favor with the chest-thumping right wing not with the self-proclaimed liberals. Aurangzeb puts in right perspective the things reader believes because s/he wants to believe. In saying so, the spirit concurs with noted historian Jadunath Sarkar that Aurangzeb’s life was a Greek tragedy. In making a case for and drawing lessons from his tragic life, the spirit invokes the reader to connect the past with the present in unbiased assessment of the history that has been misinterpreted.  

Conversations with Aurangzeb is an interesting way of re-reading history. It is a groundbreaking book that rekindles interest on the life of an Emperor that has seemingly been long dusted. By drawing and equating the past with the present, the narrative at places could be alarming and frightening too. It places the past under tight scrutiny without drawing any conclusions. However, the spirit doesn’t shy away from admitting that it had sinned a great deal in its ninety years on earth. In doing so, the spirit also holds a mirror to the justifications unleashed by us to in favor of our own wrong doings, both socially and politically. If lust for power is what Aurangzeb has been accused for, the spirit questions if lust for money, lust for power, and lust for blood any less prevalent now. 

Charu Nivedita’s novel is a complicated but interesting and amusing undertaking to dispassionately view the subject that has been grossly misunderstood. It is part historical and part fiction but a satire, nonetheless. It is cult Tamil writer’s contribution in understanding history that is as much a biting commentary on our times.

Conversations with Aurangzeb
by Charu Nivedita
Translated by Nandini Krishnan
HarperCollins, New Delhi
Extent: 355, Price: Rs. 599.

First published in the Hindustan Times on April 27, 2024.

History written on water

Embedded in its contested basin are the seeds of a probable 'world war on water'.

If one doesn’t understand the past, misinterpretation of the present is unavoidable. Apt in the context of river Nile that courses 6,800 kilometres across 11 countries, historical knowledge becomes critical to fathom the hydro-political transformation the region is currently going through. From Herodotus to Flaubert and from Alexander to Napolean, the waterscape that cuts across the sprawling desert under a cloudless sky and a scorching sun was as much an inexplicable wonder as an ideal subject of divine benevolence. However, it was only during the nineteenth century that the Nile’s geography was systematically mapped. 

Having established himself as an acknowledged water historian, Terje Tvedt has condensed 7,000 years history of one of the greatest rivers in an immensely readable volume that is insightful, engaging and reflective. The Nile is a historical travelogue that begins in Egypt, at the mouth of the great river, and moves upstream along its banks tracing the source of its twin streams - the Blue Nile from the Ethiopian highlands and the While Nile from Lake Victoria - before the two merge at Al Mogran in Sudanese capital Khartoum. The author submits that it is only ‘by following the river up from place to place, as slowly and systematically as the river’s own heartbeat, that its secrets can be uncovered and its role and significance for society’s development can be understood’. The Nile emerges as a wellspring of knowledge, the history of human evolution and development in the region through its flowing waters.  

Written in a non-fiction story telling style, the narrative has been built on the characters and the events in history - from Caesar to Cleopatra, to Churchill and Mussolini, and to Abiy Ahmed and Donald Trump – who all sought the control and use of the Nile. In the course of its chequered history, the river has remained a perpetual object of political intrigues and power struggles. The colonial march of subjugation of the natives upstream of the river contributed to shifting the goalpost of contention along the river - from the Aswan Dam in Egypt to the Renaissance Dam in Ethiopia. Over the years, each country sharing the river course has sought to emulate the Egypt’s model of development at an ecological cost to its free-flowing waters. Embedded in its contested basin are seeds of a probable 'world war on water'. It is for the geopolitical developments in the region to allow the river to ‘let live’ and  avoid such dreadful future.       

The Nile makes for a fascinating read. It is a travelogue enriched with ancient and colonial history that has transformed the region in which most governments in the river basin have drawn plans to control, tame and harness the river. One wonders if the finite natural resource can satisfy everybody’s needs at any time? Tvedt, a professor of geography at the University of Bergen, is an unrivaled communicator who has kept the interests of a wider readership in mind while unfolding the biography of a river which is lifeline for over half a billion people. Through the story of the Nile, the author opens a window to the historically, socially and politically diverse countries of the region -  Sudan, Kenya, Burundi, Eriteria and Ethiopia. Without getting hold on the history of the region, understanding its present predicaments may remain elusive.

The contribution of the Nile to origin and growth of civilization is unparalleled, it nourished the earliest humans who wandered out of Africa and peopled the earth. No one would disagree that the river has played a crucial role in the histories of the countries through which it flows, even if its importance is somewhat exaggerated in determining the political outcomes. Presenting a multidimensional and pluralistic perspective on the historical water course, Tvedt wonders if competing interests of member countries will cause hydrological anarchy or the impending threats propel the governments to collaborate for the Nile hydro-solidarity? 

The Nile is an ambitious undertaking, vast in scope and expanse. It is a welcome addition to growing literature on the Nile, and is highly recommended for all those interested in how rivers shape history, politics and culture. It is a magnificent work which could easily become a classic.    

The Nile: History’s Greatest River
by Terje Tvedt 
I B Tauris, London 
Extent: 380, Price:  £ 30.

First published in AnthemEnviroExpertsReview, July 2022

How the past speaks

Much as history should have helped broaden our intellectual horizon, as a society we have beset ourselves with deficits in critical thinking and historical imagination. 

History may be cast in stone but not human identity which draws from and builds upon the past to reinterpret it, as it rummages through time. Historian H E Carr would argue that history is a continuous dialogue between the past and present and a continual interaction between the historian and the facts, for a correct interpretation and accurate recording of facts. Stretching the argument further, Namit Arora contends that history should as much advance our understanding of the past as extend help in understanding our place in the rapidly transforming world. Bringing together ancient history, chronicled narrative, and present interpretation of six iconic places, Arora triangulates history as an evolving process.

Illuminating and evocative, Indians is a credible attempt at reconstructing history through astute reflections on the evolution and decline of historical sites which were once cradles of civilization in this part of the world. Told through visits to the archaeological sites at Dholavira, Nagarjunakonda, Nalanda, Khajuraho, Hampi and Varanasi, and peppered with the perceptive accounts of the times by noted travelers like Megasthenes, Xuanzang, Alberuni and Marco Polo, this prehistory explores our interconnected ancestry that binds us to our collective present. It is a book about belonging: about walking in ancient places in search for an authentic identity. 

In addition to fulfilling the author’s quest for reconnecting with the country after two decades of overseas sojourn as an IT professional, the book serves a dual purpose of replacing the dull, untrue or often motivated narrative on history with more open, evidence-based and empathetic perspective on shaping the idea of India. That the Harappans had the most sophisticated water management system including the first-ever indoor toilets over two millennia ago exposes our present-day sanitation inadequacies, and the erotic architecture of Khajuraho temples mocks at our cultural aversion to harnessing the power of desire toward spiritual awakening. Much as history should have helped broaden our intellectual horizon, as a society we have beset ourselves with deficits in critical thinking and historical imagination.         

Like discerning students of archaeological history, Arora marvels the artistic excellence, technological  sophistication  and religious moderation of the bygone era but expresses concern at some cultural misunderstandings by the travelers, for which he suggests long overdue need for fresh translations of their account to get new insights on history. The suggestion is not without purpose as ‘the accounts of travelers (Chinese) are invaluable to inform and enchant us, and for providing us the evidence we need to resist the rewriting of history to suit narrow political ends.’ Without staking any serious claim to history writing, Indians provides an exciting churn of ideas, beliefs and values that have the potential to reshape our present. 

An ambitious journey covering the period from 220 CE to 2600 BCE makes for absorbing reading, although at places author’s innocent curiosity gets the better of accepted historical facts. Some of this comes from the danger and difficulty inherent in journeys across historic time zones, and hence perception on the eulogy of pre-Hindu era; the fall of Buddhism; and the mutilation of temples by the Mughals may fall short of academic rigor. No such claims are staked by the author either, who perceives history as many layers of suggestions such that it evokes, conjoins and involves the seeker. Else, who would be courageous enough to write that ‘most temple desecration had political and not sectarian motives.’ Arora evokes historian Richard M. Eaton’s famous remarks ‘absence of evidence is not evidence of absence’ to justify his digressions.  

It is with pleasure one reads a book like Indians, which provides hitherto unmatched style of dealing with multiple layers of history. With Arora as an inquiring travel companion, the archaeological sites come alive showcasing the complexity and diversity of the lost worlds. Written with transcendent beauty to prose, and with occasional moments of epiphany and even ecstasy, it fills the growing demand of capitalism and nationalism to draw a new narrative about being Indians. Without a judicious sense of history, argues the author, reflection on human societies across time and place alone can help construct an authentic present.

While deepening our sense of wonder that was India, touring historical landmarks to capture their imminent downfall brings about a new awakening on our past. For not been aligned with any ideological view, Indians should come a handy reading for the present generation which, under the influence of modernity, is getting distanced from our rich heritage and illustrious past. Only through an appreciation of unbiased history, can one bridge the distance between past and present to carve a distinct future for our civilization. Indians could offer a perfect start!       

Indians 
by Namit Arora
Penguin-Viking, New Delhi 
Extent: 296, Price: Rs. 599.

First published in Outlook weekly on Oct 1, 2021. 

The landscape of contradictory impulses

Mystics, monkeys and murders have come to be identified with parts of the Ridge. 

Delhi may have been slowly forgetting its past but the Ridge, the green lungs of the sprawling megapolis remain living fossils in the history of its making. Between its stones and soil are held the political, economic, and ecological tensions between the rulers and rebels, the orthodox and the liberated, and the civilised and the wild. Spread over 80 square kilometers of reserved forest in the city, it is as much a place for lovers, joggers and stoners as for landlords, administrators and politicians. All said, it is a blissful reality in an otherwise polluted city. 

While there is little denying that mystics, monkeys and murders have come to be identified with parts of the Ridge over the decades, such contradictory impulses nonetheless harbor crucial vantage points for understanding the interconnectedness that can help in healing its ecological scars. Thomas Crowley views the sacred and the profane with empathy to create a new vision for the Ridge, one that has something for everyone with its riches redistributed and enjoyed by all. Till it remains a contested territory with rights and obligations skewed in favour of the powerful, the future of this green zone will remain vulnerable to both manmade and cosmic challenges.   

Fractured Forest Quartzite City is an absorbing and engaging read on the subject of urban development. In the quest for international investments, most cities go for style over substance and keep a shiny surface atop a chaotic subsurface. A city as big as Delhi has slowly turned into a shadow of its glorious past. The foundations of this degeneration were laid in 1911 during the establishment of the capital by the British. Later, not only were the quartzite structures inherited, the many British laws and attitudes too became part of the legacy. The Ridge was to become its intended victim, supporting both production and consumption to sustain the city’s economic transformation.  

Like a curious child exploring the inner functioning of a mechanical toy, Crowley has not left out any detail in his investigative narrative on the Ridge. If the Tughlaqs, the Khiljis, and the British appear as part of its bloodied  history; the Rajputs, the Gujjars, and migrants contribute a socio-cultural narrative; and, the likes of the Jagmohans, Ponty Chaddhas and the monkeyman fill the political-economic perspective. It seems the  Ridge has never existed in a vacuum as many aspects of its economic, social, cultural, and political history remain entangled in its geological existence. Peeling the layers exposes the realities which have been ereased from public memory. This book is a plea to reconnect with the Ridge’s past to build a common heritage of shared responsibilities.              

Lucid and well-researched, Fractured Forest Quartzite City presents the Ridge as a living entity. The Ridge is to Delhi what lungs are to the body, pumping oxygen into its air for its inhabitants to realize their dreams, their fantasies, and their unspoken desires. Without the story of the Ridge, the history of Delhi too would be incomplete. Crowley’s painstaking efforts in recreating the legacy of the Ridge is a tribute to its geology and ecology that made many cities rise and fall around it. However, it is now up to the contemporary city to ensure that its lungs stay healthy for a vibrant engagement with its populace.  

The book helps readers discover how the Ridge and the city have shaped each other, and will continue to co-evolve. Crowley’s aim has been to broaden the scope of thinking about Delhi’s environment by reconnecting its past with the present, and exposing how consumption effects the immediate environment. Fractured Forest Quartzite City provides a comprehensive account on the evolution of the megapolis and leads the reader to understand that growth cannot be at the cost of ignoring the Ridge.  

Fractured Forest, Quartzite City
by Thomas Crowley
Sage, New Delhi
Extent: 350, Price: Rs.795.

First published in the Hindustan Times, Jan 21, 2021.

Those who came to conquer it

Imagining geographical spaces through religion limits our understanding by imposing and justifying an ideology at the cost of ignoring its inherent richness.

Richard Eaton, who teaches history at Arizona University, argues that India was never a self-contained stagnant civilization as is often believed but one that evolved over centuries of intense engagement with other peoples and cultures. Starting from the conquest of Mahmud Ghazni to the exploits of Nadir Shah, Eaton reconstructs the most compelling but consequential historical accounts, from c.1100 to c.1765, which produced a hybridized composite civilization that has sustained its distinct identity. India in the Persianate Age defines those seven centuries as an epic period of engagement with the other regions, especially the Persian, which had contributed to producing a rather harmonious society. It was the British who reduced it to the Hindu-Muslim binary, thereby inflicting a deep divide that has continued to dominate socio-political discourse ever since.      

In his brilliant exposition spanning the prolonged medieval period in history, Eaton questions the convention of seeing a diverse and vibrant culture through religious lens. ‘Imagining geographical spaces through religion limits our understanding by imposing and justifying an ideology at the cost of ignoring its inherent richness’. The reading of history in terms of mutually exclusive religions has only helped one form of nationalism, however, at an enormous recurring cost to the society. Decoupling history from such an assumption alone can provide an unbiased measure on acceptance of the political authority, notwithstanding a ruler’s own religion, by a socially, linguistically and religiously diverse Indian society. 

What the colonial historians read as ‘Muslim conquest’ was indeed a period in history that had consolidated multiple ethnic identities viz., Rajputs, Marthas and Sikhs, and empowered them to define their terms of collaboration with then rulers. Far from acknowledging it, the self-serving Anglophone historians sought to paint the entire period as despotic and unjust to lay unilateral claim on pulling India from seven centuries of so-called Muslim subjugation towards modernity. It is no less than a historical conspiracy to erase that part of history as ‘dark and backward’, with the sinister aim of justifying the brutal suppression by the British as ‘mild and equitous’. Curiously, the colonial takeover was not branded as ‘Christian conquest’.    

Challenging the colonial claims on introducing India to modernity, India in the Persianate Age provides comprehensive account of the cultural exchanges between the Sanskrit literary traditions and the Persian cosmopolitan outlook that led the Mughals to rationalize their empire by applying the secular outlook to the religious traditions of their subjects. Noticeable is the fact that both Sanskrit and Persian were not the ‘language of place’, and consequently expanded over much of Asia not by force of arms but by emulation, and without any governing centre. This is a significant take from the book which provides perfect backdrop to medieval India becoming the centre for the patronage of Persian literature and scholarship.   

What makes Eaton’s assessment of the medieval history distinct and insightful is its treatment of the otherwise illustrious period on its own terms without today’s biases. From architecture to science and from trade to cuisine, the assimilation of the Sanskritic universe with its Persianate counterpart is well evident. The persistence of several Persian words including hukm (grace of God), langar (communal meal) and biryani (flavoured rice cuisine) in everyday usage signifies that it was a neutral language for daily correspondence and literary expression. Covering vast swathes of the Persian influence on the making of India, Eaton pays a fine tribute to the evolution of India as a compassionate civilization.  

Ambitious in its undertaking, India in the Persianate Age has enough to ruffle the feathers of today’s nationalists. It is a fat but immensely readable volume that elaborates the long-term process of cultural interaction and assimilation that is reflected in language, literature, attire, science, art, music, governance and warfare. It goes to the rich cultural traditions of India that those who came to conquer it, in the end, were conquered by it. 

India in the Persianate Age
by Richard M. Eaton
Allen Lane, New Delhi
Extent: 489, Price: Rs. 999.

First published in The Hindu, issue dated Dec 15, 2019. 

Capturing water through its flowing history

Without counting cultural values and notions of justice, any attempt at re-engineering water management is bound to escalate fears about nature and climate.  

Current clamor on water scarcity is pitched around what  nature supplies through rains and what gets delivered through pipes, backed by the assumption that effective demand-side management will help counter supply-side conundrum. Far from it, a water crisis has become severe even when large parts of the country have seemingly escaped what is traditionally termed as ‘monsoon economy’. Between the extremes of a dreary winter and a blistering summer, water crises manifests itself in dried and polluted rivers; as cumulative water shortage in major reservoirs; and in unending queues of desperate people awaiting erratic supplies. This all points out towards an emerging social disruption, if it isn’t there already!

For getting a better sense of the emerging water crises in an age of climate change, Sunil Amrith, Professor of South Asian Studies at the Harvard University, suggests a nuanced understanding on how history shaped water management and use; what compelled the society to respond to new economic opportunities; and how mastering the unevenness of water and its extreme seasonality by the British shaped an economy that improved revenue flow into the treasury?  With maximizing revenue being the be-all and end-all of the British rule, every investment in infrastructure had led to expanding trade for Indian products in the markets of London, Liverpool, Hamburg, and New York. Investment in irrigation works bolstered local resilience to drought, signaling benevolence of the rulers, while ensuring that the state’s coffers remained full. The political connotation of investment in irrigation projects has persisted since then.   

In his reading of the history, Amrith finds a serious lack of realization of nature’s water endowment in expanding irrigation – exploiting economic gains from water remained bereft of social and ecological concerns. And this had continued well into the twentieth century as quick economic turnaround had propelled a large swathe of large landowners to switch to water-guzzling cash crops like cotton and sugarcane. It has only eroded deep social and historical patterns that had treated ‘the monsoon as a way of life’ in promoting crop diversity, and a culture of resilience. With farm crises at its peak, the state is now trying to restore historical sanity by promoting diversified crops a’la more crops per drop.     

Amrith mines British and Indian archives to produce a lively history that unfolds the development of modern meteorology in erasing water inequalities. That water has been a source of both social and economic power was known to the powers-that-be, it was in the disguise of democratization of irrigation expansion that the state sought to usurp power. No wonder, control over water became an engine of inequality between people, between classes and castes, between city and regions. Regional disparities have become ever more pronounced. Little has been learnt that 4 per cent of the available world’s fresh water will always be in short supply to serve 14 per cent of world’s population with competing, and increasing demands. 

Unruly Waters provides in interesting peep into the history of water development that continues to shape and reshape politics in the countries of South Asia. It captures the fears and dreams of rulers and governments in the region in laying control over its shared natural endowment through dams and rivers diversions, which has led to unleashing political tensions between neighbors. It is bound to escalate, as both China and India race to construct hundreds of dams to secure both power and water in carving an elusive water future in the age of climate change. Amrith reminds the present-day governments of both countries about what its founders had painfully remarked: “Jawaharlal Nehru had lamented the ‘disease of gigantism’ in promoting large dams whereas his compatriot Zhou En-lai had acknowledged the mistake of accumulating water by cutting forests”. It is an irony that political expediency has allowed cumulative wisdom of the past to erode. 

As the risks of climate change become increasingly evident in the region, there are essential lessons to be learnt from the shared history of miscued water development in South Asia. That many measures to secure the region against monsoon vagaries have destabilized the monsoon itself through unintended consequences leave much to be desired for sane actions in securing a safe water future. Need it be said that the idea that modern technology will fix matters is passé.   

Unruly Waters is the most comprehensive historical treatise on rains, rivers, coasts and seas, as also on weathermen, engineers, and politicians who sought to tame nature. Amrith covers a vast historical landscape on water but leaves the reader to draw his/her own conclusions. It should be essential reading for researchers and planners as it has between-the-lines lessons and messages to be captured to getting a better sense of the unruly waters. In suggesting that the task to understand the monsoons and the rivers that shape the region is far from complete, the author is emphatic in his suggestion that water management can neither be purely technical nor can it be addressed on a purely national scale. Without counting cultural values and notions of justice, any attempt at re-engineering water management is bound to escalate fears about nature and climate.  

Amrith calls for a new political imagination to view water beyond local histories and national boundaries. ‘Water, which connects Asia, cannot be allowed to divide the region’. There cannot be more compelling reason for countries in the region to cooperate in managing and sharing water then the fact that the countries in South Asia are the world most vulnerable to climate change. Unruly Waters presents all the essential elements to get back on the drawing board to plan a secure water future for the entire region amidst the most challenging times. 

Unruly Waters
by Sunil Amrith
Allen Lane, UK
Extent: 397, Price: Rs 799.

First published in the Hindu BusinessLine, issue dated April 1, 2019.

Can literary acumen swing political power?

There is little room for literary enterprise to flourish in the political arena as electoral politics thrives on wooing a divided society on lofty promises.

Can literary acumen act as a means to political ascendency in recent times? Alternately, is there scope for political prowess to be embellished by literary merit? Far from getting any further on it, the veracity of such questions will be frowned upon and the audacity of the seeker will evoke mirth and glee. Present day political life is marred by a moral decline and a slump in ethics, to say the least. And there is little room for literary enterprise to flourish in the political arena as electoral politics thrives on wooing a divided society on lofty promises. Acquisition of power is at the cost of everything humane, literature being an essential casualty.      

That literary enterprise of history, language and religion can be combined as an aspect of nation building is an essential take away from the lives of two nobles, the father and son who lived separately through the reigns of four Mughal emperors. Bairam Khan for his military acumen, and Abdur Rahim for his literary prowess, had stamped their extraordinary presence during the period of great literary and spiritual effervescence under the reigns of Humayun, Akbar, Jahangir and Shajahan during the 16th and 17th century. More than their unconditional loyalty, it was their political acumen and martial valor that had helped both to enviable positions in the royal courts. 

In his painstakingly detailed and historically accurate account, T.C.A Raghavan captures the political jealousies and ideological controversies that these nobles were prey to. How they maneuvered through the muddle without compromising on their literary talents is both intriguing and inspiring? Ability to compose and recite poetry spontaneously came handy for Bairam throughout his distinguished career. Adroit in encompassing flattery in its subtlest form in his poetry, the decorated regent could push many crucial political decisions in favor of the empire. Politics was not a disgrace for wise men during those days, but close proximity to the throne did cause repulsion and ultimate decline of Bairam Khan.        

Attendant Lords is a vivid narrative on the most important period in history, when the Mughals were not only consolidating power but were negotiating religious diversity through political upmanship. It is not just the Mughals who were pulling the diverse socio-cultural-religious narratives into a nationalistic discourse, history is replete with instances where powers-that-be have tried to reconcile such tensions in different ways. What made the Mughals different was their attempt at invoking sympathies from our across cultures, with an aim at demonstrating liberal behaviour towards the masses.

Bairam Khan’s dismissal and subsequent departure from the court had left a residual guilt in the mind of Akbar, who showered his kindness on child Abdur Rahim who was only five years old at the time of his father’s demise. Rahim grew up as a well-regarded scholar of Persian, Turkish and Arabic, and owed these acquisitions to the liberal scholarly atmosphere in the court. It had lasting impact on Rahim, on his approach to life, politics, and power. Subsequent to the ceremonious return of his abducted wife on the instructions of Rana Pratap, Rahim had lost all desire to defeat so worthy a foe and had requested Akbar to be relieved of his command on grounds of ill health. On being questioned by the emperor, Rahim is believed to have responded ‘his courage, pride, chivalry and patriotism distinguish him as one who should receive the emperor’s benevolence’. The campaign against Mewar was given up, suggestive of the sowing of the earliest seeds of Indian nationalism on Hindu-Muslim unity.

Given his background in history, Raghvan delves on historicity of the cultural effervescence of the period from a literary lens. Persian poetry was ‘an important vehicle of liberalism in the medieval Muslim world (and) helped in no significant way in creating and supporting the Mughal attempt to accommodate diverse religious traditions.’ Language, poetry and politics were aligned under the patronage of nobles like Rahim, who had himself emerged as a poet of extraordinary brilliance. From decorative to devotional, Rahim’s moral aphorisms rest on simple verses in which everyday life resonates. His verse Rahiman pani rakhiye, bin paani sub sun (Always keep water, for without it nothing exists) has an immortal endurance.    

Attendant Lords is a work of scholarship, navigating the lives of these two nobles in history, literature, and later in cinema. Akbari dispensation of interfaith harmony would not have been possible without Bairam Khan, which was subsequently nurtured by Abdur Rahim. Raghvan aptly concludes the biography of two important pillars of the empire by locating them in the present, ‘..it is their ambitions, accomplishments and flaws, interfacing with difficult choices, rightly or wrongly made, that give us the point of entry to use our own present to understand their long-past lives.’ It is no modest admission than to say that in doing so we do get to understand our own times better. 

Attendant Lords
by T C A Raghvan
Harper Collins, New Delhi
Extent: 337, Price: Rs 699

This review was first published in the Hindustan Times, dated Dec 16, 2017.

Mutable histories on crumbling edifices

Archival narratives were authored, and even tempered to insert specific affects by both the colonial government and later by the nation-state.

Monuments are cast in stone, but not their histories as multiple appropriations in time and space generate diverse narratives of their mute existence. Red Fort has lived through it like none other. From the seat of the Mughal Empire in 17th century to the nucleus of armed rebellion against the British in 19th, it has had its share of history before emerging as the ultimate symbol of a nation-state in the 20th century. In tracing contested history of five monuments in capital Delhi – Red Fort, Jama Masjid, Purana Qila, Qutab Complex and Rasul Numa Dargah – Mrinalini Rajagopalan brings fascinating accounts of their unexpected uses and ideological appropriations by state and non-state actors. 

Each of the five monuments had a brush with the unexpected in the course of their archaeological existence: the Red Fort got turned into a place for rebellion, and resurgence; the Jama Masjid served as a place for self assertion during the pre-independence period; the Purana Qila was considered to rest on the mythic city of the Indraprastha; the Qutab complex has had its share of religious skirmishes; and the little-known sufi shrine of Hazrat Rasul Numa was saved by locals from expropriation by the British. The basic contention of this eloquent study is that each of these monuments exists in the space between archive and affect, lending credence to the notion that the monuments are culturally mutable objects far from being symbols of their specific pasts. In this context, the inheritance of the past is rarely seamless and secular.

Drawing detailed portraits of each of the five monuments, Rajagopalan examines how archival narratives were authored and even tempered to insert specific affects by both the colonial government and later by the nation-state. Interestingly, while the colonial government sought to erase reminiscences of the humiliating losses suffered during 1857 rebellion from the ramparts of the Red Fort, the Indian government did not remove Nicholson statue, the British soldier who had crushed the rebels, as a reminder of our own weakness to serve as a good historical lesson. These affects reflect differing interests and varying motivations toward the same monument.  

Building Histories captures the archaeological history of the five monuments and the institutional preservation that began with the establishment of the Archaeological Survey of India in 1861, which was given additional impetus by the enactment of the Ancient Monuments Preservation Act by Lord Curzon in 1904. As a distinct departure from its past history of looting, pilferage and destruction of historic structures, the colonial government had an image makeover post-1857 as it started protecting monuments on behalf of its subjects. Could it be an institutionalized atonement for a previous history that included destruction and vandalism of country’s cultural heritage? 

The book is more than an archaeological treatise on the five monuments, as it raises question on what historical lexicon may suffice to accommodate many voices and affects that continually make and remake these structures. Mrinalini Rajgopalan, an assistant professor in History of Art and Architecture at the University of Pittsburgh, opines that Delhi’s rich Islamic structures are deeply vexing to those who seek to reclaim India as a geography defined solely by Hindu culture and history. The November 2001 abortive attempt for reclaiming the Quwwat-ul-Islam mosque in the Qutab complex as a Hindu temple is a case in point. Such parochial reframing of nation and history has been frequently played out on the monuments in the capital city. 

Each monument may be a bearer of specific truths regarding the past, and yet it remains vulnerable to multiple interpretations as the text that sets the regime of truth changes hands over time. No surprise, therefore, that prevailing anxieties between state and non-state actors builds new narratives to justify the imagined past. The creative appropriation of the medieval ruins of the Qila Rai Pithora in south Delhi in 2010, as the remnants of an ancient Hindu empire of Prithviraj Chauhan, has been a way to contain the history and interpretation of the monument. However, there is more to the Qila that is located at the entrance to Delhi, and which has been witness to many ups and downs of the history of India.  

Rajgopalan examines such contestations to argue that since the past could not be retrieved by the contemporary observer, there is a need for each of the monuments to remain a sacred and immutable relic of the past. What worries her is the continuing seduction to redefine the archival past in a bid to avenge past Islamic domination.  

Building Histories narrates extraordinary stories of the each of the five monuments – many of them previously unknown – in making a strong case for pulling archival histories out from the influence of popular emotions. Within the archival representations and affective appropriations of the monuments, the book echoes the need for more nuanced history of architectural objects. 

Building Histories
by Mrinalini Rajagopalan
The University of Chicago Press, Chicago/London
Extent: 244, Price: Rs. 3,857   

First published in The Hindustan Times online on Nov 11, 2017

Human nature at its worst

Colonialism emerged out of the opportunistic churning and the resultant sharing of power between the opposing forces.

By discovering the sea route to India for trade and commerce, Vasco da Gama had inadvertently laid the foundation of what would become the Raj three centuries later. That this foundation was to be laid not on the land but at sea exposes lack of imagination on the part of the mighty Mughals, who left the coast vulnerable to petty skirmishes among traders and sea pirates. In hindsight, a protected coastline could have delivered an altogether different nation-state to this landscape. But that was not to be, as history had other design to it. 

Popular history may have painted Vasco da Gama as a noble seaman; while in reality he had only pursued the Portuguese interests in ruling trade over second half of the world as divided by the Pope – the western half for the Spanish and the eastern hemisphere for the Portuguese. Embedded within this directive was to establish contact with what were believed to be the Empires of Christian in the east. Consequently, when accosted by coastal settlements that ‘what brought you here’ the cruise members would conveniently respond ‘Christian and Spices’. The motive was loud and clear. With a long history of conflict with Islam, the newly opened trade route had equal intention of establishing Christian supremacy. With powerful navy at their disposal, the Portuguese inflicted mass casualties on dissenters and forced the gullible into conversion from Goa to Cochin. Francis Xavier was the chief architect who not only supervised mass conversions in Goa but converted over 10,000 villagers in southern Malabar. Trade and conversion had sailed in unholy alliance.      

A known Indian chronicler, Roy Moxham transports readers back to those times when Portuguese were engaged in fierce encounters with the Dutch, English and French in getting strong foothold for plundering the riches from India. Based on published memoirs and eyewitness accounts, The Theft of India highlights the terrible sufferings inflicted on Indians by the European powers during the tumultuous three centuries of coastal onslaught. Caught in the crossfire between invading traders, the local rulers were often trapped between the devil and the deep sea. Often working at cross purposes, limited resistance by the Marathas and the Zamorins could only delay the inevitable to a point. Colonialism, it seems, emerged out of this opportunistic churning and resultant sharing of power between the opposing forces. 

A 19th century painting of  Vasco Da Gama  paying homage to
the Zamorin of Calicut for opening up direct trade
between Europe and India, 1498.

The question worth asking is whether it could have gone the other way. It could have, had the ten-month seize of Goa in 1570 been successful under the united Muslim rulers. Buoyed by this victory, however, the Portuguese fortified their factories, enforced a monopoly on spices trade, and had built large garrisons. But all this was set to change with the arrival of the Dutch and the British, who scrambled for the same resources that the Portuguese were trying to monopolize. With deceit, corruption, forgery and brute force being the leitmotif of the marauding traders, human nature was at its worst in the pursuit of wealth. Part of how they dealt with each other had to do with the ongoing wars between their respective countries. 

Moxham research labels each of the European traders deft in creating windows of opportunity by drawing agreements with local traders/rulers, and then betraying them at another opportune moment. Afterall, they had come to India for swindling resources and not for building relationships. The Theft of India is loaded with anecdotal accounts of political intrigue, ruthless genocide and mindless plunder. In a way, it is reflective of the times the world was passing through. Life was nasty and brutish; loyalties were worth trading for survival.

The English were the late to arrive on the scene but were quick to violate the decree that the East India Company would insist on trade, and not attempt colonization or conquest. Robert Clive, who arrived as a clerk in the company in 1744, was to rewrite the script a decade later. Not only did he acquire large shares in the company, Clive saw opportunity in capitalizing on the political void created following the decline of both the Marathas and the Mughals. In the thirteen years since the Battle of Plassey huge sums of money were transported to Britain. The shocking fact, however, is that the first thirteen years of the British rule did  more damage to the people of India than by all the other European invaders of the centuries before. The Bengal famine was the worst manifestation of this plunder. 

Moxham paints painful picture of the organized loot that the Indians had to go through. The pain it inflicted on local population was beyond the realm of imagination. Several hundreds were put to sword, and millions had starved to death. The life under the Mughals may not have been rosy, but at least the Mughal spoils were generally retained in India. 

The rest, as Moxham concludes, is history!

The Theft of India
by Roy Moxham
HarperCollins, New Delhi
Extent: 252, Price: Rs 399 

This review was first published in The Hindustan Times dated April 15, 2017.  

History as a moving procession

Chandni Chowk may have been subsumed under the great metropolis of the modern capital city but it has held onto its charm.

True to her words, Swapna Liddle kept aside theoretical arguments in weaving a chronological narrative of the last three and a half centuries of the lived-in history of Chandni Chowk. Far from being a museum of the bygone era, its unchanged by-lanes have kept alive its distinct culture of adapting to changing times without losing its contemporary relevance. History may be the most cruel of all goddesses, but Chandni Chowk has seen history as a moving procession. It has been part of the making and re-making of the city during its glorious and inglorious journey.    

First part of the book reads like a heritage walk wherein the author guides the reader into the making of the Red Fort and the walled city, much of it during the politically stable period under the reigns of both Shahjahan and Aurangzeb. The aura of royal power, which ascended on Delhi on April 18, 1648, only added to the spiritual significance that the banks of river Yamuna enjoyed. By alighting from the boat at the Nigambodh ghat, Shahjahan had drawn upon the spiritual power that the populace associated with the site. This spot on the bank of the river is considered to be blessed by Vishnu, where knowledge of the Vedas could be gained simply by taking a dip. Ironically, it is now known for the city’s biggest cremation ground.  

The second half of the book captures the history as it unfolds following the tumultuous years during 19th and early 20th century, following the decline of the Mughals till the emergence of an independent India. It is intriguing how the city held on to its cultural vitality during this period, developing an education system based on an indigenous language alongside its long-standing literary tradition. This was the age of Ghalib, Momin, Zauq and the Emperor Bahadurshah Zafar/ Their poetry worked as the literary balm for the aching souls and the severed bodies. Though there were only 137,977 people living within the city walls during the mid-nineteenth century, cultural amalgamation was reflected in people taking part in each other’s festivals and celebrations. The city had emerged as a cohesive group for diverse religions. 

History is often written from either of the two perspectives - mysticism or cynicism – the history that lies somewhat outside history or the one that the historian draws meaning into. But Swapna Liddle has viewed history of Chandni Chowk as a constructive outlook over the past, reporting the events based on facts and drawing conclusions based on objectivity. Consequently, the narrative records the past with historical accuracy. One can only concur with William Dalrymple that it is a much needed introduction to the history of the Old City of Delhi.  

The history of Chandni Chowk has known many turning points, where each quest for succession to the throne was borne out of intrigue and violence. The city may have been mute witness to the victor and the vanquished, but the people within its walls rarely resisted their resentment against injustice by its rulers. Noticeable is their angst that spewed out on the streets when Prince Dara Shukoh, heir apparent and Aurangzeb’s elder brother, was publicly paraded and insulted. What followed was a public outcry, stones and dirt was pelted on the procession led by Jiwan Khan who had treacherously captured Dara to hand him over to the Emperor.       

Despite his half century rule over the empire, Aurangzeb was strongly despised by the people. There is a deep repugnance for the manner in which he conducted himself during his long rule even today. Although that part of history cannot be dispensed him, surely his name can be from existing historical memorabilia. It may not be out of place to mention that the road bearing the name Aurangzeb was wiped out from the city. However, the same city acknowledged the contribution of Dara Shikoh recently by naming a street after him. After all, he was the one who drew parallels between Sufism and Vedanta, and had translated the Upanishads into Persian. 

Chandni Chowk makes for an absorbing reading. It may have been subsumed under the great metropolis of the modern capital city but it has held onto its charm. It continues to be one of the biggest trading hubs; its narrow lanes continue to provide interesting insights on its glorious past. There is something mysteriously attractive about the place; its history seemingly still thrives in its narrow streets. Swapna Liddle only adds historical flavor to the unending fascination for this old city. 

Chandni Chowk: The Mughal City of Old Delhi
by Swapna Liddle
Speaking Tiger, New Delhi
Extent: 176, Price: Rs 399 

First published in Deccan Herald dated Feb 26, 2017. 

The King Who Never Forgot He Was A King

Had he been born a century later, he would undoubtedly have found his career in the film world. 

For different reasons, the lives of the Indian Kings and Princes have been intriguing both for the historians as well as for ordinary folks. Though he was known for his tasteful eccentricities, it remains a mystery till date why Nawab Wajid Ali Shah, the last King, had his left breast and nipple artistically exposed between the gold borders of his royal dress all the time. Shah’s portrait in the picture gallery near the Husainabad Clock Towers in Lucknow is reportedly kept behind a curtain, because it is said that a British lady had fainted after seeing the exposed nipple.  

It remains anybody’s guess whether the king was making an exaggerated point about his religious affliation or was it only to make a fashion statement. Should the latter be true, the King was surely ahead of his time? It is hard to believe if he simply wanted to be portrayed as a sensual man because according to one of his numerous descendants living in Kolkatta, the King was such a pious man that he could not allow any females to serve him unless he had contracted a temporary marriage with them, ended up marrying some 375 women by the end of his life in 1887. 

A teetotaler all his life, Wajid Ali Shah had a fascination for Krishna, and was sometimes referred to as Kanhaiya, which was reflected  through his passions for grand theatrical events. Had he been born a century later, he would undoubtedly have found his career in the film world, with the chance to realize, on an epic scale, the theatrical presentations he had directed in Lucknow – some of which lasted for over a month. History has seemingly been unkind to him, not crediting him as one of the most important cultural catalysts of his day and for the ebullient creativity he represented. 

British historian Rosie Llewellyn-Jones reconstructs Wajid Ali Shah's life through his numerous wives, his menagerie, the trauma of annexation, his uncurbed extravagance, the frustration of his sons and the dismantling of his household after his death. The actual reign of the poet-ruler had lasted only nine years but Wajid Ali Shah spent the last 30 years of his life as a deposed ruler (on pension by the British East India Company) at Garden Reach near Calcutta, ruling a mock-kingdom with 6,000 subjects. Even in exile, he had continued the customs of the royal court, neither forgetting that he was the King nor allowing others to forget it either. 

It is a brilliantly told historical account of an eccentric King who remained woefully misunderstood during his time, but one who comes out as a man of character who lived his life on his own terms.  

The Last King in India: Wajid Ali Shah 
by Rosie Llewellyn-Jones
Random House, New Delhi
Extent: 314, Price: Rs. 599