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This is an archive article published on July 18, 2004

Stories of Us

The dominant academic historiography of modern India has, in recent times, been marked by what can best be described as a form of hyper self...

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The dominant academic historiography of modern India has, in recent times, been marked by what can best be described as a form of hyper self consciousness. Who is the subject of history? All the designations that name a collective subject seem to be artificial constructs. Staple categories like class, community, nation, state, citizen, religion seem categories that obscure the contingent and complex workings of history rather than illuminate their inner meaning. Historical reality, if there is such a thing, exceeds the grasp of any of our characterisations. Momentous concepts like state, authority, empire, law, science, truth, modernity seem in the end to have their meanings fixed arbitrarily. The task of history writing, it seems, is not revealing new truths, but an endless process of demystification.

Then there is the familiar problem of sources. How does the archive or the narrative the historian relies upon as evidence come to be produced? Are government documents or the census, for instance, simply naming a reality, or are they producing the very subjects they claim to describe? The question is not simply: whose interest does the history or the archive serve? The difficulty is that every act of writing and describing is an act of objectification: something is being named as one thing rather than another. To take the more prosaic examples, how does a particular act of violence come to be designated as a political act rather than merely an ordinary crime? And in a government document, what does “political” or “crime” mean anyway? Add to this the fact that the act of producing knowledge itself shapes our self consciousness, and we are left with the prospect of endlessly peeling away distortions, only to find beneath those distortions more distortions.

This ably edited anthology is a reminder of the acute sophistication with which some of these questions have been debated in recent historiography. The list of suspects is familiar: Guha on empire, Cohn on representing authority, Dirks on the ethnographic state, Rao on torture and truth, Kaviraj on modernity, Chaterjee on nation, Amin on the complex relation between history and memory, Menon and Bhasin on women and partition, Pandey on citizenship, Dube on subaltern communities, Prakash on the reproduction of caste, Dipesh Chakrabarty on the minority histories in relation to the marginalisations historians produce and Urvashi Butalia on the difficulties of representing experience in history. These essays are framed by a sophisticated theoretical introduction by Saurabh Dube, and a thoughtful conversation with Dipesh Chakrabarty on the complicated relationship between universal categories of European social theory and particular histories.

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Ironically, the best essays in this collection are not the ones over burdened by an endless anxiety about method. Shahid Amin, Urvashi Butalia, Ritu Menon, Partha Chaterjee still display something of old fashioned virtues: a command over the texture of an archive, a capacity to recreate an experience or reveal human nature in its complexity, an ability to tell a riveting tale.

The theoretical reflections, for all their sophistication, seem too self-referential and miss some major ironies. The title “Post Colonial Passages” is meant to suggest an attempt to contest the mystifications produced by colonialism, understood in the widest possible sense. But the book manages to avoid the obvious question: Whose histories should be authoritative and why? More disturbingly, there is the paradox that the more historians assert that collective identities like nations are contingent, the more eternal they seem in politics, the more we are told they abridge messy realities, the more attractive they become, the more we are told everything has a complex history, the more ahistorical or consciousness becomes. Dube’s introduction has a line: “the problem with nationalism is that it refuses to go away.” In the context of a collection that is marked by a theoretical hyper awareness, and a resolve to demystify every other narrative, this statement seemed almost darkly comic — a reminder of the gap between the historian’s self-consciousness and historical self-consciousness.

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