MY SON’S INHERITANCE
A secret history of lynching and blood justice in
India
Aparna Vaidik
Aleph book company 2020
Pages 173 ₹499
When Shashi Tharoor calls it “Searing, thoughtful, …and profoundly
moving,” one takes him at his word – and is disappointed. The publishers go on
to describe the book as “provocative, disturbing”, and based on “groundbreaking
explorations”, as they promise a to show that we have not been such a
non-violent people as we claim to be.
Aparna Vaidik, a Ph.D. from JNU, (who found “history” equivalent to witnessing
the virat roop of Krishna (with its myriad ramifications) in the court
of Duryodhana, purportedly writes to her son about the ‘secret’ history of
lynching and blood justice in India. In the prologue she asserts that our
history of tolerance is one also of tolerance towards violence: “Is it our …
fellow Indians,” she asks, “who treat these killings as retribution
– pay-back time for these communities…?” In the context of the paragraph
it is not clear whether this is a question or a suggestion.
The Dalit Muslim man was assumed to be guilty in every story.
Nothing could remove the paranoia of majority community. It was interesting
to see how violence has been externalized, Othered and justified in the
name of enacting social justice.
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She then moves into “deeply personal” (Tharoor’s words) history. Her
grandfather who converted to Arya Samaj and the story of Bharmall, an ancestor
who immolated himself in protest against cow-slaughter, dominate the book. Cow-slaughter/protection is another major
topic.
The tenets of Arya Samaj are shown as having been assimilated by the
grandfather – particularly in the form of challenge to the Brahminic authority
and religious bigotry – “with pride and elan”.
A considerable portion of the book goes into showing how the Aryan and
non-Aryan communities grew apart while the identification of the “Other” (the
Muslim, the Christian and the Dalit) as antagonistic to the Hindu became more
and more pronounced – with British policies or without. Against this
background, the “Aryan identity in time became a call to arms”. The Arya Samaj,
she says, offered an opportunity to participate in collective action around gauraksha;
the crowding generated a sense of primordial kinship that may never have
existed. This new reality was then retrospectively projected back on all the
pre-existing realities dyeing them all in the colour of the present, forging Hindu
and Muslim identities – creating the image of the historically violent Muslim, his
excesses and insatiable lust.
There is a moment of epiphany when the author suddenly realises that her
grandfather had passed on the story of Bharmall to her as a sign of passing on
the parampara baton to her. What exactly this baton signifies is not
explained. There is a possible explanation in what follows: she reproduces two
pamphlets, the contents of which were composed by her grandfather. One on
Gauraksha (“Cow-protection is our religion”) and the other on Mother Teresa of
Kolkata (“Narak ka Farishta” Prophet from Hell). The absence of comments of the
historian imply a message not-so-subtle to those who would take it.
The last chapter deals with “lynching”. A certain politician mentioned
that the word originated in the ‘west”, implying that whatever was happening in
India was not “lynching”. A historian would have a more informed view. In these
visible instances of violence, does it matter if the myths of old have
ingrained thoughts in us of violence? Or is this theme undertaken as a rebuttal
to the ubiquitous claim of a non-violent predilection on the subcontinent or an
explanation of modern violence in India or is it a justification?
The book moves from discussing aspects of Arya Samaj, our ancient
mythology and the presence of violence. Repeated references to various
non-Aryan “heroes” who submitted willingly to the onslaughts of the upper
caste, to the writings Mahatma Phule (particularly of a casteless and just
society), the invisibilisation of the non-Aryan tradition,
Each act of lynching entrenches the Hindu supremacist’s sense of being a
historical victim and in turn criminalises the Dalit, the Muslim or the Christian
man. At the core of every lynching was the Hindu fear of the lustful Dalit or Muslim
man who is after the Hindu cow and Hindu women.
Epilogue refers to the eating habits of the author’s husband, after
speaking of the “sweetest sound” made on the drying hides of animals made into
drums. His father relished the fried
blood of a freshly slaughtered male goat; “kheech”; and freshly
cooked/smoked goat’s kidneys that melted in the mouth.
This is your inheritance. Inheritance by definition is not always of
your choosing. But while you are
tethered to it,you are no way bound by it.
You are free to choose the elements of your elements that you wish to
own, to discard, to celebrate, to be indifferent to, or even to fight. Your inheritance will acquire the meaning you
give it.
But there are subtle statements and suggestions that seem to be out of
alignment with “advice”.
