Hindu Pluralism
by Elaine M. Fisher | 2017 | 113,630 words
This thesis is called Hindu Pluralism: “Religion and the Public Sphere in Early Modern South India�.—Hinduism has historically exhibited a marked tendency toward pluralism—and plurality—a trend that did not reverse in the centuries before colonialism but, rather, accelerated through the development of precolonial Indic early modernity. Hindu plur...
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The Making of a Hindu Sectarian Community
[Full title: A Continuing Legacy: The Making of a Hindu Sectarian Community]
Who invented ٲ-Ś? Was the tradition created ex nihilo through the abstract discourses of an intellectual elite, or did it emerge organically through the unfolding of social dynamics over the course of the early modern centuries? As with the purported “invention� of Hinduism, to identify the moment and circumstances of birth of a particular sectarian tradition raises a number of vexing theoretical questions about historical causation—the process by which a genuinely new cultural edifice comes into being. My aim in this work has been to sketch the unmistakable impressions of public theology on the embodied, socially embedded boundaries of ٲ religious life, its role in shaping emerging modes of religious identity—a process that cannot be reduced either to hegemonic domination or to elitist fancy. Indeed, the impact of ٲ-Ś on contemporary religious culture in Tamil Nadu extends far beyond the boundaries of ṻ or ⲹ, “monastery� or “lineage.� Much in the way that the “Sacred Games of Ś,� the distinctive legend of place of Madurai, has historicizable discursive origins in the public theology of the seventeenth century, the same can be said for the wider public ٲ culture of the Tamil region. The subsequent inauguration of a public regional culture, from the Śī inflection of Carnatic music (Shulman 2014) to the public esotericism of contemporary Chennai (Kachroo 2015), bears the distinct impressions of the actors and events of early modernity.
The ٲ-Ś community—with its perduring alliance between Śṅk峦ⲹ renunciant lineages, the monastic institutions they maintain, associated temple complexes such as the 峾ṣ� Temple of Kanchipuram, and a laity comprised largely of south Indian ٲ Brahmins—an integral feature of Tamil ٲ culture today, began to emerge under specific and eminently observable social circumstances in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. As I have documented throughout this book, the intellectuals who found themselves in the midst of this rapidly emerging network were by no means passive observers; rather, they actively contributed to the constitution of the network itself and the continual rethinking of its dimensions and boundaries. Precisely by doing so, in fact, ī첹ṇṭ and his colleagues forged systems of religious meaning that opened new avenues for public religious participation in the ٲ community and, concomitantly, new models for lived religious identity. Although seemingly confined to palm leaves and paper through the medium of written text, the intellectual work of these scholars played a foundational role in the conceptual constitution of the emergent ٲ system, articulating new boundaries for the orthodoxy and orthopraxy of participant devotees, stabilizing the social structure of the system by delimiting it from competing sectarian systems, such as the more transgressive Śٲ esoteric lineages or the vibrant ղṣṇ traditions of the region.[1] Niklas Luhmann (1995), indeed, insightfully observes that systems, composed of socially embedded institutions, cohere not on the basis of institutions alone but, rather, through the shades of meaning they acquire through the communicative endeavors of social agents. Such meaning supplies the very rationale for preserving religious institutions—and the religious publics they cultivate—in the face of constant competition from neighboring communities and perpetual fluctuations in the fabric of society. It is no surprise, then, that court-sponsored intellectuals of the seventeenth century should have exerted their most formative influence on extratextual life through their work as public theologians.
Indeed, the public memory of their influence in shaping the boundaries of a new religious community is palpable throughout the writings of their descendants, from the eighteenth century down to the present day. Take, for instance, the following excerpt from the decidedly southern ʳܰṇa, the Śrahasya: As the text-critical acumen of our early modern theologians has taught us, some Purāṇic extracts offer representations of seemingly modern phenomena and so warrant suspicion of interpolation. Some passages, however, occasion no room for doubt.
The following vignette allays our fears that the practice of scriptural forgery may have somehow diminished under early colonial rule:
All twice-borns will be devoted to barbarous conduct, poor,
And of meager intellect. In such a world, a sage will be born.
O Ś, Śṅk, born from a portion of me, the greatest of the devotees of Ś,
Will take incarnation in the Kali Yuga, along with four students.
He will bring about the destruction of the groves of heretics on earth.
To him I have given the wisdom of the 貹Ծṣa, O Ѳśī.
In the same Kali Yuga, O Great Goddess, the twice-born named Haradatta[2]
Will be born on the surface of the earth to chastise the non-Śs.
There will also be a certain [Appayya] īṣiٲ, a god on earth, a portion of me, O ,
Ceaselessly engaged in radiant practices, born in a Ś 峾岹 lineage.
And other Bhaktas, O Mistress of the Gods, in the ŧ, ō, and Pāṇdya countries,
Supremely devoted to me, will be born in all castes:
Sundara, Jñānasambandha, and likewise, Māṇikyavācaka.[3]
Śṅk, Haradatta, and Appayya īṣiٲ: in this eighteenth-or nineteenthcentury Purāṇic accretion, the ٲ-Ś legacy has rewritten the canon of saints of the Tamil country, elevating the progenitors of the ٲ tradition above the common “devotees� of Ś, the Tamil Ś bhakti saints. This particular passage, in fact, was adduced as the prototypic source text for the divinity of Appayya īṣiٲ by his nineteenth-century biographer, Śnanda ۴DzīԻ, born Śṣa īṣiٲ. The tradition he inspired, however, reaches far beyond the printed pages of his classic chronicle to inform the religious identity of the present-day īṣiٲ family, who pride themselves on their descent from a genuine ṃśāv, or partial incarnation,[4] of Ś.
Intriguingly, hagiography, if not history, has never ceased to remember the formative theological influence of Appayya and ī첹ṇṭ on the nascent ٲ-Ś community. From within the tradition, such hagiography blurs the line between theology and Indological scholarship.
Spokesmen for the Appayya Deekshithendrar Granthavali Prakasana Samithi, for instance, advertise the intellectual legacy of their forefather in polyglot newsletters with theologically inflected taglines such as:
“Srimad Appayya Deekshithendrar is regarded as the aparavathara of Srimad Sankara Bhaghavathapadal and also revered in this country, as an incarnation of Iswara.�[5]
The divine status of these scholars is commemorated most frequently, however, by means of narrative. Short anecdotes depicting the exploits of Appayya and ī첹ṇṭ have circulated over the course of multiple generations, preserved with the stamp of authority of their influential biographers. Swami Sivananda,[6] founder of the Divine Life Society, to name one highly visible example, includes both Appayya and ī첹ṇṭ in his Lives of Saints, in the company of Jesus and the Buddha, Śṅk and վṇy. His narratives, moreover, capture something of the deeply sectarianized climate in which the scholars actually moved, hinting at the highly charged community boundaries that solidified over the course of their lifetimes.
Such is the case with this memorable account—forced English versification and all—of Appayya’s ostensive pilgrimage to Tirupati, stronghold of south India ղṣṇ par excellence:
Once to Tirupathi the sage
Went on a lonely pilgrimage,
And there the Mahant to him told:
“Enter not the fane; it can’t hold
Within its precinct a Saivite;
To enter here you have no right.�
Wrath was the saint and quietly he
By occult power did o’ernight change
The fane’s image of Lord Vishnu
To Siva. The Mahant turned blue
When in the morn he, aghast, saw
Vishnu’s image changed to Siva.
To the great sage he now did run
And of him humbly beg pardon,
And asked the image be restored
To the shape he loved and adored.
Such was the great saint Appayya,
An incarnation of Siva,
Whom men still love and have reverence
For his wisdom and intelligence. (Sivananda 1947, 313)
Such stories abound in the public memory of ī첹ṇṭ and Appayya’s descendants: Appayya leaves his body in Cidambaram in the presence of ṭaᲹ, ī첹ṇṭ is granted the gift of sight by īṣ�, Ratnakheṭa īṣiٲ garners the favor of 峾ṣ� in Kanchipuram. More often than not, these episodes have been dismissed out of hand by contemporary Indologists as an impediment to reconstructing a lost intellectual history. In this case, however, beneath hagiographical adulation lies a kernel of historical fact: these narratives serve as communal sites of memory for the socioreligious transformations of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, the systemic restructuring of the religious landscape that had been publicly facilitated to no small degree by Appayya, ī첹ṇṭ, and their intellectual contemporaries. A few generations before the fact, these narratives superimpose the same ٲ-Ś culture that was born from their public theological interventions. These stories are replete with rivalry between Ś and վṣṇ, the veneration of Śṅk峦ⲹ ascetics, the adulation of 峾ṣ� and īṣ�, and initiation into the mystery of Śī. Like most hagiographies, the exploits of Appayya and ī첹ṇṭ tell us less about their actual biographies than about the lives they shaped in future generations, when such motifs were no longer novel inventions but fixtures of the fabric of ٲ religiosity.
As a point of fact, neither the cultural icons of south Indian Smārtism nor the everyday religious practice of the community could be conceived of today, in their present shape, were it not for the theological innovations of Appayya’s and ī첹ṇṭ’s social circles. For instance, the tradition of Carnatic music would not have been the same without the Śī-inflected kirtans of ղ岵Ჹ and Muttusvāmī īṣiٲr,[7] whose compositions practically constitute the canon. Nor is it an accident that among the ranks of influential scholars in twentieth-century Tamil Nadu, many were devotees of the Kanchi and Sringeri Śṅk峦ⲹ lineages, initiates in Śī ritual practice, or descendants of the īṣiٲs themselves. Indeed, the very same P. P. S. Sastri who is responsible for orchestrating the preservation of ī첹ṇṭ’s ܲ岵ⲹԻٲ貹 was also the chief contributor to the editing of the southern recension of the Ѳٲ. The authority of the Śī Society of Mylapore, at one time the defining institution of Chennai’s quintessential Brahmin neighborhood, rests squarely on the shoulders of Appayya and ī첹ṇṭ; and the neighboring academic bookstore, ⲹṣmī Indological Bookhouse, maintains itself largely through the sale of Śī scriptures and paddhatis, consumed voraciously by local intelligentsia. The Sanskrit curriculum in Tamil Nadu pairs the transregional classics of with the highly regional centuries of the mute poet Mūkakavi,[8] a devotee of 峾ṣ�, largely unknown to Sanskrit literature beyond the Tamil region but celebrated with reverence as an icon of Sanskrit ٲ culture.
That this particular confluence of cultural currents is prototypically ٲ in character—that is, that these features are universally definitive of ٲ-Ś religious culture—is captured eloquently by Sankara Rama Sastri, remembered as one of the most prolific critical editors of works of 屹ⲹ and ṅkśٰ of the period.
Speaking for the twentieth-century Śī practitioners of Chennai, Sastri writes, in his Sanskrit introduction to a handbook of Śī ritual, the Śīsaparpaddhati:
This [tradition] was first taught by ʲś, the primordial Lord, to the auspicious goddess. Partisanship to this tantra, which independently aggregates the entirety of the aims of man, was manifested by the Blessed Feet of Śrī Śṅk峦ⲹ, composing the ܲԻ岹ⲹī, which encapsulated the entirety of ѲԳٰśٰ, and the commentary on the Lalitātriśatī. The ancient great poets, crest jewels of the Vedic tradition, such as and Mūkakavi, and those of more proximate times, such as ī첹ṇṭ īṣiٲ, had firmly secured their affections to the pair of lotus feet of the goddess, as is celebrated repeatedly by numerous anecdotes. It has also been ascertained that վṇy and others, although the highest of preceptors of the knowledge of Advaita, engaged in the practice of Śī. It is well-known by word of mouth that the great treatise on ѲԳٰśٰ, titled The Forest of Wisdom, was composed by the sage վṇy, and likewise, the treatise on ѲԳٰśٰ known as the Parimala was written by the illustrious Appayya īṣiٲ. These two works, however, are no longer extant. Through an unbroken succession in sequence from the Blessed Feet of Ādi Śṅk峦ⲹ, the worship of the Śī, performed in various locations in the monasteries of the Śṅk峦ⲹ lineages, establishes beyond a doubt the Vaidika status of the tradition of the fifteen-syllable Śī mantra.
For, the great goddess Rājarājeśvarī, the supreme deity of Śī, known by the name of 峾ṣ� as she adorns the domain of Kanchipuram, has been worshipped by many thousands of the leading traditions of śܳپ and ṛt; likewise with īṣ�, illuminating the city of Madurai, who is renowned as the Advisor (ѲԳٰṇ�) in the Śī tradition, and the goddess referred to as Akhilāṇḍeśvarī, lighting up the sacred site of ܰś, who indeed is known in ѲԳٰśٰ as the Chastiser (ٲṇḍī), bearing titles such as ٲṇḍٳ, and likewise, Śrī Բܳī, illumining the sacred site of Kanyakumari, who indeed in Śī is renowned by the name of the three-syllabled goddess . Every single twice-born who is intent on the practices of the śܳپs and ṛts worships daily the mother of the Vedas, 屹ٰī. This is precisely why it is commonly said that all twice-borns on earth are externally Śs, and internally Śٲs. Therefore, the Śī tradition itself is included within the ٲ tradition.[9]
The peculiar aphorism cited here bears repeating, as its theological import cannot be underestimated: as S. R. Sastri informs us:
“All twice-borns on earth are externally Śs and internally Śٲs.�
The above passage outlines the conceptual, historical, and geographical territory of a homogenized, unified ٲ sectarian tradition. While modern ٲ religiosity is orthodox Ś in its public image and was founded on Śī esotericism at its core, it is anchored on the authority of the figures who were narrativized in the seventeenth century as the progenitors of ٲ-Ś, such as Śṅk峦ⲹ and , and those who set in motion those very narratives, such as Appayya and ī첹ṇṭ īṣiٲ. And for the ٲs of present-day Tamil Nadu, ٲ-Ś is as intimately bound up with Tamil geography as with the intellectual heritage of Śṅk: Śī, in its highest abstractions, abides for south Indian ٲs in the embodied form of the newly domesticated Śٲ sacred sites of the Tamil country, where scripture maps perfectly onto spatial territory.
In practice as well as in theory, the legacy of ī첹ṇṭ’s generation synecdochically invokes the characteristic ٲ-Ś religiosity preserved by ī첹ṇṭ’s contemporary descendants. Nearly twenty years ago, the residents of Palamadai, the ancestral of ī첹ṇṭ’s lineage in southern Tamil Nadu near Tirunelveli, honored the memory of their illustrious forefather by allocating a plot of land in the village as a branch ṻ of the Śṅk峦ⲹ lineage of Sringeri. The inauguration ceremony was graced by the presence of Sringeri’s Jagadguru ī īٳ Svāmiga�, whom present-day descendants of ī첹ṇṭ have commonly accepted as family guru. In the adjoining shrine to the village’s Maṅgalanāyakī Temple, presently venerated as ī첹ṇṭ’s shrine, rests a set of three photographs: a reproduction of a mural painting of Appayya bequeathing scriptural manuscripts to ī첹ṇṭ, flanked by portraits of the two most recent Jagadgurus of the Sringeri lineage, ī īٳ and Abhinava վīٳ. Three and a half centuries later, now that Brahmin scholars are no longer sponsored by local rulers to compose works of Sanskrit poetry and philosophy, some things have changed very little for the descendants of early modern south India’s leading intellectuals. A hereditary devotional relationship with Śṅk峦ⲹ preceptors remains to this day a cornerstone of the religious observances of both Appayya’s family, who profess allegiance to the Śṅk峦ⲹs of the ñī 峾ṭi īṻ, and of ī첹ṇṭ’s, devotees of the Sringeri Śṅk峦ⲹ lineage who continue to accept īṣ� as their ܱ𱹲, many of whom recite the 峾ٴdzٰ on a daily basis.[10]
Through this book, I have endeavored to capture the process of public theology in the making—the point of intersection between discourse and social system. I have chosen to highlight three instances of theological trajectories—genuinely revolutionary in the scope of their agenda—that exerted a fundamental influence on the future shape of ٲ-Ś sectarianism. I chronicle the birth of the formative features of ٲ-Ś religiosity from within the sectarian community itself. On one hand an epoch-making development in the history of Indian religion and intellectual life, the birth of the ٲ sectarian tradition also provides an optimal illustration of the widespread acceleration of Hindu sectarianism throughout the centuries of the early modern era, in south India and beyond. When placed in the context of a wider sectarian community in the process of coming into existence, these works begin to speak with a cohesive voice, telling the story of the earliest articulations of the religious values that came to structure the experience of an enduring religious tradition. It is not merely the historical facticity of the ٲ tradition—and the circumstances of its origin—that I have aimed to elucidate in this book; it is also, more crucially, the process of its emergence. Public theology, I contend, provides us with a powerful model for accounting for both the diverse, multivalent texture of Hindu religious experience and the historically contingent phenomena—the genuine theological efforts—that allowed these traditions to assume the shape we observe today.
Footnotes and references:
[1]:
Luhmann (1995, 17) anticipates such a circumstance, in which shared resources come to play a role in constituting a distinct system: “The concept of boundaries means, however, that processes which cross boundaries (e.g., the exchange of energy or information) have different conditions for their continuance (e.g., different conditions of utilization or of consensus) after they cross the boundaries.�
[2]:
[3]:
mlecchācāraparā� sarve daridrāś ca dvijātaya� | bhaviṣyanty alpamataya� yatis tatra bhaviṣyati || śive madaṃśasaṃbhūta� śaṅkara� śāṅkarottama� | caturbhi� saha śiṣyais tu kalāv avatariṣyati || tasmai copaniṣadvid ma dattā maheśvari | bhūmau pāṣaṇḍaṣaṇḍānā� khaṇḍana� sa kariṣyati || kalāv eva mahādevi haradattābhidho dvija� | aśaivadaṇḍanārthāya bhaviṣyati mahītale || dīkṣito ‘pi bhaved kaścin madaṃśo bhūsuro ‘mbike | bhāsurācāranirata� śaivacchandogavaṃśaja� || anye ‘pi bhaktā deveśi cere cole ca pāṇḍyake | bhaviṣyanti mahābhaktā mayi sarvāsu jātiṣu || sundaro jñānasambandhas tathā māṇikyavācaka� |
[4]:
The term ṃśāv typically implies not that the individual is only partially a divine incarnation, but rather that he or she is a full incarnation of a portion of the god in question.
[5]:
Ramanathan (1966). These newsletters published short essays in Sanskrit, English, Tamil, Telugu, and Hindi celebrating the remembered life of Appayya īṣiٲ, both historical and hagiographical, and advertising the publication ventures of many of his previously unpublished works.
[6]:
This Sivananda is not to be confused with the nineteenth-century biographer of Appayya of the same name, author of the Appayyadīkṣitendravijaya, although both are descendants of the īṣiٲ family. Swami Sivananda, in fact, was born in Palamadai, ī첹ṇṭ’s ancestral .
[7]:
Shulman (2014).
[8]:
Mūkakavi, known only by the name “the Mute Poet,� is reputed by legend to have been deaf and dumb until granted the blessings of the goddess 峾ṣ�, at which point he spontaneously burst into poetry, composing the ū첹貹ñśī. Unsurprisingly, the very same narratives about his divine gift of poetic virtuosity are often applied in south Indian ٲ circles of as well (see chapter 2 for further discussion). As for his historical origins, the editor of the ū첹貹ñśī (屹ⲹ, vol. 5), writes, “It is not certain when this poet, originating in the ٰ屹ḍa country, was born, but it appears that he was not very ancient.� His verses are scattered with Śī terminology and specific references to the deities of Kanchipuram; in short, he could not possibly have lived earlier than the seventeenth century, as his writings evoke a full-fledged south Indian ٲ-Ś religiosity. I have seen no evidence that ī첹ṇṭ or any other scholars of his generation were aware of his existence.
[9]:
ida� hi paraśivenādināthena prathamam ܱ貹徱ṣṭ� śrīdevyai. akhilapuruṣārthaikaghaṭanāsvatantre ‘smiṃs tantre sudṛḍhe 貹ṣaٲ āviṣkṛta� śrīśaṅkarācāryabhagavatpādair mantraśāstrasarvasvabhūtā� saundaryalaharī� lalitātriśatībhāṣya� ca praṇītavadbhi�. vaidikaśikhāmaṇayo mahākavaya� 峦ī� kālidāsamūkād arvācīnā nīlakaṇṭhadīkṣitādayaś ca īcaraṇāmbujadvandve ṛḍ� baddhabhāvā iti ghaṇṭāghoṣo jegīyatetarām. vidraṇyaprabhṛtayo ‘dvaitaviddeśikavar api � samupāsāṃcakrira iti nirdhārito ‘ya� ṣaⲹ�. vidraṇyamunibhir vidrṇavākhyo mahāmantraśāstragrantho vyaracīti, tathaiva śrīmadappayyadīkṣitai� parimalābhidhāno mantraśāstragrantha� praṇāyīti ca karṇākarṇika śrūyate. 貹� tu granthāv imau sākṣān na dṛṣṭacarau. ādiśaṅkarabhagatpādopakramam avicchinnapāramparyeṇa tatra tatra śāṅkaramaṭheṣv ācaryamāṇ� śrīcakrapūjā ca pañcadaśākṣarīvidⲹvaidikatva� ԾḥsԻ徱� pratiṣṭhāpayati. paraḥsahasrair hi śܳپṛtⲹpravarair ārādhyate kāñcīmaṇḍala� maṇḍayantī kāmākṣyabhidhānā rājarājeśvarī yaiva 貹𱹲 śrīvid, tathā madhurāpurī� vidyotayantī mīnākṣ� śrīvid� mantriṇīti prathitā, tathā jambukeśvarakṣetra� bhāsayantī akhilāṇḍeśvarhva ī kila mantraśāstre daṇḍinī daṇḍanāthetdīn vyapadeśān bhajate, tathaiva kankumārīkṣetra� prakāśayantī śrīkankumārī ya hi śrīvid� tryakṣarī bāleti prathitābhidhānā. śrautasmārtakarmānuṣṭhānatatparā 屹� sarve ‘pi ٲⲹ� ܱٱ 屹ٰī� vedamātaram. ata eva ‘antaḥśāktā bahiḥśaivā bhuvi sarve dvijātayaḥ� iti vādo ‘pi saṃgacchate. tena śrīvidsaṃpradāya eva smārtasaṃpradāya iti suśliṣṭam. Sastri, Śīsaparpaddhati, 1938, pg. 3.
[10]:
Personal communication with various descendants of ī첹ṇṭ, January 2011.