Thinkers and Tinkers

Viking/Pages: 549/Price: Rs 799

Ramachandra Guha is,quite evidently,a man dissatisfied. He is displeased that our politicians are not as well-read nor,in his opinion,thinkers as profound as those who preceded them. He is disgruntled at the dominance of Bengalis in the social sciences,and thus the dominance of Bengal in the narrative of modern India. He is dismayed that modernists seem to have died out among our thinker-activists. And he is deeply discontented with the stranglehold on Indias 20th century historiography of a telling of our past that owes much to a Congress-CPI view of the world,one he would view as insufficiently liberal.

Since he is also a man of considerable energy,Guha has attempted to outline and correct these great wrongs. With Makers of Modern India,his readers will understand why he will not succeed.

Over 500 or so pages,Guha excerpts the speeches and writings of 19 of Indias influential leaders and thinkers. His aim,he says,is to produce an understanding of the diversity of Indian political debate; and to demonstrate that this country is unique in having those who most shaped its history also write most authoritatively about it. A statement classically Guha-esque,in that it is baldly claimed in the first line,and then followed a little later by an explanation as to why it isnt completely true.

It isnt true,of course,because not all of Indias most accomplished and powerful politicians meet Guhas standards as thinkers. He does attempt to explain some of his exclusions: Subhas Chandra Bose and Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel,he argues,were not original thinkers; Indira Gandhi was known primarily for her actions; S. Radhakrishnan and Aurobindo,conversely,principally for their writing. A reasoning that appears defensible until one notices that Guha doesnt bother to apply it. C. Rajagopalachari,for example,beloved of economic liberals,receives a section in which he argues persuasively and eloquently for free-market principles,against one-party dominance,for electoral reform. Not a word comes across as less than well considered; not a word,equally,appears original,rather than an excellently argued restatement of common tropes. And yet,confusingly,Guha excludes all Marxists for doing precisely that.

Meanwhile,the RSS M.S. Golwalkar is included,with a ranting speech that sounds as if it could have been delivered yesterday in Pilibhit,laden with conspiracy theories about missionaries and Muslims poisoning ponds with beef to entrap honest Hindus into converting. What this particular Maker lost by way of intellectual sophistication he perhaps made up by way of social and political influence, argues Guha,blithely undermining his stated standard of subtlety of argument.

Carping about who these 19 thinkers are is not a petty enterprise. It is,in fact,the only reasonable response to this book,for two reasons. First,there is nothing of Guha in this book other than the choice,and his defence of it. The little,Wikipedia-esque,biographical sketches of each of the 19 are less portraits than caricatures. B.R. Ambedkar gets three small paragraphs. Few of the excerpts are provided with context more than a line or two; nor does Guha consistently address his choice of excerpt: is it representative? Particularly well-argued? Particularly erudite? Particularly relevant? We are left to guess. What remains,therefore,of original work here,is the act of list-making,like a grad-school drinking game. Name 15 non-Bengali thinkers,quick!

The second reason why these choices matter is that Guha is self-consciously trying to create a new Indian political theory,a new Indian political story,one that sets itself apart from and in opposition to the court histories that most students in our universities still read. But in the incoherence of his choices here,and in the 1,000 or so pages of India After Gandhi,it is clear that,however noble an aim,this is one thing Guha will not manage. Liberalism,one assumes,is more than merely a diversity of views; a liberal re-telling of Indian history must be more than what Guha manages to provide.

Yes,an intellectual magpie,collecting bright,sparkly facts,he is always an enjoyable read. Who else will tell you that E.M. Forster imagined that a Voltaire alive in the 1950s would decide that only Jawaharlal Nehru among world leaders was worth corresponding with? But magpies are hoarders,not jewellers,and here,as with India After Gandhi,the bright sparkly facts are not strung together at all. There is no alternative narrative to be embraced. Unsurprisingly,one friend of mine complained to me last week that he cant finish a Guha book he has to go out and buy Bipan Chandra to get a complete picture. If thats not a failure of Guhas larger liberal project,what is?

Broken though their setting,some of the excerpts do indeed shine. Nehru,of course,is always rewarding to read,his clarity and humanism calming. Mahatma Gandhi,in the breadth and uniqueness of his concerns,is perplexing,disturbing,moving,infuriating,and constantly surprising. At the end of an argument for temple-entry for Dalits,he casually urges technical education for them,too. Rammanohar Lohias invective is delightful,making one pity Sharad Yadav his constraints; and if Ambedkar is ill-served by Guhas chosen extracts,Periyar makes up for that,with four pieces of sustained,wonderful radicalism. He tears into religion,of course,with one passage mocking the cost of a trip to Tirupati. But he also speaks for contraception,widows rights and against marriage.

As Periyars and Gandhis writings show,three things can be said of many of our reformers and thinkers. We dont know enough of what they said; they were unafraid of radicalism; and much of what they say resounds as sadly relevant still. This is perhaps most obvious with Rammohan Roy,a man ahead not only of his time but very probably of ours. Here,decades before the Congress,more than a century before the Constitution,is a polite petition for press freedom,stating unapologetically that Calcuttans should be justified in boasting that they are secured in the enjoyment of the same civil and religious privileges that every Briton is entitled to in England. Here,decades before Macaulay,is a furious letter to the governor-general,prompted by state funding for a Sanskrit school in Calcutta: The Sangscrit language8230; is well known to have been for ages a lamentable check on the diffusion of knowledge,and the learning concealed under the almost impervious veil is far from sufficient to reward the labour of acquiring it. Perhaps were not Macaulay-vadis but Rammohanvadis? I wouldnt mind.

Reminding us of the many ideas that shaped us is a worthy cause,undoubtedly,for Indian liberalisms intellectual standard-bearer. For that standard to advance,though,we are forced to expect much,much more.