Thursday, 30 June 2016

Textual chaos in the Book of Genesis.


In the Book of Genesis, in the Old Testament, we learn about Creation and how God made mankind:

 

[1:26] Then God said, "Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth."
[1:27] So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.

 

It is clear that humankind was created in the image of God; and God made man and woman simultaneously; yet this narrative changes in Chapter 2 and quite a different story is told about the Creation of humankind. The latter text is a kind of an illogical intervention to the sense of causality which is present in Chapter 1. In terms of textual cohesion, it is obvious to the reader that the first two chapters of the Book of Genesis do not necessarily hold together.

Should we tell the Vatican our little secret about God?


Religion is all about God; it is all about “revealed knowledge”; but and the BIG fact remains – why should the notion of a God that is good, as it is in the Biblical context, be so rabidly misogynous?

 
Now, we can all agree that the Catholic Church will not change its stance of what the Bible is; and the harrowing truth is that the Bible also affects and determines how societies and cultures behave. The Catholic Church will not allow any variants. And so, do we have to wait till the Catholic church becomes a minority religion and subsequently, a relic institution – lost to the world? Instead, we can argue, once the Bible is rewritten to erase the misogynous parts out, then there will be other variants of Christianity that will rise up, use the revised Bible and the same motifs and stories of the Bible.

 

Unless, of course, the Vatican is willing to listen; but then – one can argue – who really cares about an institution that seems to have lost its purpose? Why else would it not have signed CEDAW ( The Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Discrimination against Women (CEDAW); it was adopted in 1979 by the UN General Assembly, and can be seen as an international bill of rights for women.

Wednesday, 29 June 2016

Why exactly should the Biblical God be misogynous?


There is a need to engage with all religious texts and conceptualize ways to re-read them; doing so will allow for parity across society.

 

The Book of Genesis and the Garden of Eden.
 
In the beginning, the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters; and this Spirit is what created the heavens and earth and everything around. We forget, when we read about God, that this notion of the Divine is not tangible, but a spiritual Being. And we have to keep in mind that this is the central point of the Bible; namely – that Adam and Eve would have been aware of this spiritual Being called God; the fact that they did not find the need to cover themselves: “Adam and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame” – implies that to them, the tangible aspects of existence did not really matter. What did matter was that they were aware of being connected to God and to each other spiritually. This awareness of the Spirit of God – is what it means to be in the Garden of Eden. They were aware that God moved Its Spirit to create the world.

 A common refrain that is evident in the first few passages of the Genesis is the following: “and God saw that it was good.” We are introduced to a parameter of what comprises goodness; what exactly does it mean to be good?

The question we need to ask is this: how can a God that is good be misogynous? It does not make sense.

Why religion got it all wrong? Conceptualizing new methods of reading.


Why religion got it all wrong? Conceptualizing new methods of reading.

 

Literary scholars need to throw open the doors of what texts constitute the study of literari-ness and the methods of doing so; such an act will allow the discipline to examine and interrogate socio-discursive practices which affect the lives of women all over the world.  Religious texts codify culture and gender norms and it is imperative that literary scholars engage with these texts that perpetuate and maintain oppressive hegemonic institutions.

 

The Hindu Shastras.

 

The Indian Constitution in 1947, declared equality as a Fundamental Right. Equality was constructed as being accessible to all and did not take into account that each individual, being located within different social realities, was not similarly positioned to enact this concept. This rhetoric, which existed at the discursive level, did not affect women materially. The Indian Government’s commitment to equality was seriously challenged and critiqued in 1974 when Towards Equality: Report of the Committee on the Status of Women in India, a report on the status of women, was published. (Towards Equality: Report of the Committee on the Status of Women in India. New Delhi: Govt. of India, Ministry of Education & Social Welfare, Dept. of Social Welfare, 1974.)

 

Even if women are given parity in the realm of the polity and the state, would the value systems and the cultural standards change? The system of “religious tradition” was mentioned as being a root cause that contributed to maintaining the cultural values, but no means were mentioned in the report that would systematically address ways to undo these value systems. If, as the report Towards Equality stated, a “woman’s role and her position in society” in India is determined by cultural values which in turn are defined by “religious traditions,” then we have to examine the nature of these religious institutions; interrogating the Hindu shastras will allow us to conclude that they are incredibly sex-ist and caste-ist in nature and unconstitutional. 

 

What we can take as a given is that these texts that constitute our Hindu shastras are unreliable with numerous variants existing simultaneously; it, therefore, stands to reason that there is no authentic version that we can refer to as being the original. Who is to tell as to which part comprised “revealed knowledge” and which sections were subsequent add-ons? - for all we know – these texts might have been amended and changes made as they were handed down generations.

The Oriental scholar, Max Mueller, in the introductory comments to his translations of the Upanishads, (Different Classes of Upanishads) wrote about the numerous manuscripts he had to consult, and how these texts had many variants.  (Sacred Books of the East; Clarendon Press, 1879.)

                                                                          

One Upanishad may give the correct, another an evidently corrupt reading, yet it does not follow that the correct reading may not be the result of an emendation. It is quite clear that a large mass of traditional Upanishads must have existed before they assumed their present form. Where two or three or four Upanishads contain the same story, told almost in the same words, they are not always copied from one another, but they have been settled independently, in different localities, by different teachers, it may be, for different purposes.

 

Lastly, the influence of Sâkhâs or schools may have told more or less on certain Upanishads. Thus the Maitrâyanîya-upanishad, as we now possess it, shows a number of irregular forms which even the commentator can account for only as peculiarities of the Maitrâyanîya-sâkhâ. That Upanishad, as it has come down to us, is full of what we should call clear indications of a modern and corrupt age. It contains in VI, 37, a sloka from the Mânava-dharma-sâstra, which startled even the commentator, but is explained away by him as possibly found in another Sâkhâ, and borrowed from there by Manu. It contains corruptions of easy words which one would have thought must have been familiar to every student. … But here again the commentator explains that another Sâkhâ reads 'vigighatsa, and that avipâsa is to be explained by means of a change of letters as apipâsa. Corruptions, therefore, or modern elements which are found in one Upanishad, as handed down in one Sâkhâ, do not prove that the same existed in other Sâkhâs, or that they were found in the original text.

 

Biblical texts.

 

In a similar manner, why should we accept the misogyny that seems to be the bedrock of the Biblical texts? What is surprising is that no one questions as to why exactly should the Bible be so rabidly misogynous? Can we argue that as it is impossible for there to be a single definitive text of the Bible, we should be able to rewrite out those parts which really are nonsensical and misogynous.

 

An epistemic shift occurred in Europe, in the modern period, with the introduction of printing presses where diverse occupational groups worked with each other in the new workshops that were set up by the early printers. Elisabeth Eisenstein describes the numerous processes that were involved: “The advent of printing led to the creation of a new kind of shop structure; to a regrouping which entailed closer contacts among diversely skilled workers and encouraged new forms of cross-cultural interchange.” Thus it was not uncommon to find university professors and “former priests among early printers or former abbots serving as editors or correctors,” thus, coming into closer contact with metal workers and mechanics. (Elizabeth Eisenstein, “Defining the Initial Shift: Some Features of Print Culture” in The Book History Reader, ed. David Finkelstein and Alistair McCleery (London and New York: Routledge, 2002), pp. 156-157.) As the Bible was being set into print, who is to tell the extent to which the abbots and the priests, who now worked in the printing presses in the early modern period, set about fixing and rewriting the text?

 

There is a need to engage with all religious texts and conceptualize ways to re-read them; doing so will allow for parity across society.



 

Tuesday, 28 June 2016

Extracts from the Adhyatma Ramayana.


Extracts from CONVERSATION BETWEEN RAMA AND NARADA in the AYODHYA KANDAM (ADHYATMA RAMAYANA)
Conversation Between Rama and Narada. Verses: 9-30.

Thereupon Narada said to Rama, the lover of all devotees: “O Rama! Why art Thou trying to misguide me by such words, as if Thou wert just a worldly man?

O All-pervading One! Thy statement that Thou art one involved in Samsara is true, indeed, in a way. For, is not Maya, the First Cause of the whole universe, Thy Consort? 

It is by Thy mere presence that she generates Brahma and the other offspring of hers. It is with Thee as her support that Maya, constituted of the three Gunas, subsists. It is by Thy support that she constantly gives birth to three types of beings – those that are Sattvika (Sukla or white), Rajasa (Lohita or red) and Tamasa (Krishna or black). … To put it briefly, whatever female form is there in this universe, that the auspicious Sita is. And whatever male form there is, that Thou art, O scion of the Raghu’s line.


Pure Consciousness has three adjuncts – gross, subtle and causal. When identified with these, Pure Consciousness is called Jiva, Cosmic or individual, Devoid of them He is the Supreme Lord. O the noblest of Raghu’s line! Thou art the Pure Consciousness, the Witness – … The whole universe has originated from Thee; it remains established in Thee; and it dissolves in Thee.

Therefore, design to bless me, O Lord! and let not Thy Maya delude me.” 

 AND WHY, AS LITERARY CRITICS,  WE SHOULD RE-READ THE ABOVE EXTRACT? 
 

1. Gender roles are defined in a prescriptive manner; the above statements which refer to the Absolute Divine make that clear. Sri Rama is God incarnate; and it is through his presence and his support that Maya, his Consort, is the First Cause of the Universe.

   

2.     Sri Rama is construed as being Pure Consciousness and the whole Universe as having “originated” from Him. This is undoubtedly, problematic.

 

3.     In the Kena Upanishad, Brahman or Pure Consciousness is referred to as “It”; on the other hand, in the Katha Upanishad, a shift occurs whereby, Brahman, or realization of Brahman, is seen within a gendered parameter:

“That Purusa indeed, who keeps awake and goes on creating desirable things even when the senses fall asleep, is pure; and He is Brahman, and He is called the Immortal. All the worlds are fixed on Him; none can transcend Him. This indeed is that. (Part II. Canto II. Verse 8)

Textual slippages in the Hindu shastras: oops!


The focus is to construe Hindu religious texts as literature, and examine them within a gendered analytical framework. What prevents us from examining the Upanishadic or the Vedic texts within a literary or a gendered perspective? If the basis of religion is “revealed knowledge,” which was made evident to men – then is it not obvious that these notions of the Absolute Being would but be defined within gender inflected terminologies?

Let me explain with an example from an Upanishad. In the Aitareya Upanishad, the first stanza reads in the following manner:

“Om! In the beginning this was but the Absolute Self alone. There was nothing else whatsoever that winked. It thought, ‘Let Me create the world.’”

We have to keep in mind that the Vedic texts are partially truthful – they are correct in their explanations on the notion of Absolute Consciousness which becomes matter, and there is no gender ascribed to this Absolute Being. The “Absolute Self” is denoted within gender neutral terms and is referred to as “It.”

But there is a slippage which occurs in the Vedic texts, making these texts suspect: it reveals the fact that those who were writing about this kind of revealed, divine knowledge were men and their interests are evident in how the notion of Absolute Consciousness is defined and described. In the same Vedic text, we will find gender specific characteristics of the Absolute Being. The second stanza of the Aitreya Upanishad reads in the following manner:

“He created these worlds, viz. ambhas, marici, mara and apah. That which is beyond heaven is ambhas. Heaven is its support. The sky is marici. The earth is mara. The worlds that are below are the apah.”

A shift occurs whereby, “It” becomes “He”: and we all assume, and accept, that the Absolute Being has to be male. To follow this statement to its conclusion, we can state that as the Vedic texts equate the “Absolute Self” with the masculine, men are seen as being agents; in the second part of the Aitreya Upanishad, the first stanza reads: “In man indeed is the soul first conceived”; the implication is that men are agents in determining the birth of children while women are mere passive receptacles.

Biological sciences make use of these dichotomies, and feminists have critiqued how biology (which should be an objective science) makes use of the dominant trope of  the “passive” female egg and the “active” male sperm. It is a notion that was also used by Aristotle and by St. Thomas (M.C. Horowitz, 1976, Aristotle and Woman).

There is no attempt by any religious institution to undress these entrenched misogyny that exists in Hinduism; and these dominant mainstream institutions simply reiterate the status quo. If we pick up a random text on religion that has been published by a well-recognized, religious institution, like the Ramakrishna Mission (that is seen as epitomising modern Hinduism), we find a similar trope operating as the subtext.

In How is a man Reborn, a short text that was published in 1970, by Advaita Ashrama, the publishing house of the Ramakrishna Mission, Swami Satprakashananda makes use of the same above mentioned dichotomy (pp.43-48); he cites instances from the Chandogya Upanishad, the Brhadaranyaka Upanishad, one Dr. Sturtevant, the Aitareya Upanishad and Sankara to prove the same point, whereby women are seen as passive agents whose only role in society is to procreate while men and sons do all the active work.

We need to rewrite the Hindu religious texts, and read them as literary artefacts, and in the process, make them gender neutral.

Through the looking glass of gender: reading the Hindu shastras.


The focus of literary studies needs to change; and we, who live in the erstwhile colonies, need to talk about literary studies outside the dominant referential analytical framework: i.e. on how, once-upon-a-time, the discipline of English was part of the “imperial mission of educating and civilizing colonial subjects in the literature and thought of England, a mission that in the long run served to strengthen Western cultural hegemony in enormously complex ways.” (Gauri Viswanathan, Masks of Conquest. Literary Study and British Rule in India (New Delhi: Oxford University Press) According to her, “a great deal of strategic maneuvering went into the creation of a blueprint for social control in the guise of a humanistic program of enlightenment”; and the English literary text functioned as a surrogate Englishman in his “highest and most perfect state” becoming a “mask for economic exploitation.”

When we ask the question as to what comprises a literary text, we should be willing to venture into territories that have not been examined before and this would allow us access to a wide variety of primary texts.  I would argue that the focus of literary scholars should be on re-reading religious texts and undoing the underlying misogyny. Religion affects all aspects of our lives – and if we want a change to take place in the realm of the public around the world, we need to dismantle/re-write the existing religious texts. If we don’t, then the very safe, glass-haven, spaces of academic institutions can just be blown apart by religious fundamentalism in the very near future.

If we examine the Upanishadic texts, we realize that they are composed out of a series of narratives, which make use of numerous literary techniques.

For example, in the Aiteraya Upanishad, there is a story about creation:

Om! In the beginning this was but the Absolute Self alone. There was nothing else whatsoever that winked. It thought, ‘Let Me create the world.’”

It created these worlds….It thought, ‘These then are the worlds. Let Me create the protectors of the worlds.’ Having gathered up a (lump of the) human form from the water itself, It gave shape to it.

The Upanishadic text moves on and talks about the five senses and the need to nourish and sustain the body, which has been formed out of spirit:

It [The Absolute Self] thought, ‘This, then, are the senses and the deities of the senses. Let Me create food for them. …

This food, that was created, turned back and attempted to run away. It tried to take it up with speech. It did not succeed in taking it up through speech. If It had succeeded in taking it up with the speech, then one would have been contented merely by talking of food.

And the narrative continues in this semi-humorous manner; where The Absolute Self analyses the need for “food” and the process which would have been involved in consuming the food; the analysis has a to-and-fro movement which borders on being self analytical. Humour lies in the whole situation where the Absolute Self examines the nature of “food” that the newly created human body has to consume; “food” tries to run away and “speech” attempts to run after it but fails. The verse concludes in a self-deprecating manner, by saying that this failure was needed because if “speech” had succeeded, then we would have been satisfied by talking about food.

We cannot ignore the fact these texts would have reflected the values system of that time period, and this explains the misogyny that is the dominant rubric within which the text is written. There are verses in the Aiteraya Upanishad which call out the very specific gender roles that are involved in the family structure; women have to be mothers to sons and that is the only role that can be ascribed to them:

She, the nourisher, becomes fit to be nourished [protected]. The wife bears that embryo (before the birth). He (the father) protects the son at the very start, soon after his birth. That he protects the son at the very beginning, just after birth, thereby he protects his own self for the sake of the continuance of these worlds. For thus is the continuance of these world ensured. That is his second birth.

As literary scholars, our focus should be on not only interpreting these texts within a literary framework of analysis, but also dismantling these misogynous renditions of the Upanishadic texts. If religion is seen as embodying revealed knowledge, that is immutable, then we, as literary scholars, need to change that perspective.

The seriousness of this work should not be undermined; religion dictates all aspects of our lives – public, private, institutional and secular. The misogyny in religion (that operates in an a-historical manner) spills over onto our societal value systems that undermines the secularism in our everyday lives.

Texts do not work in isolation; they emerge from and work within social systems. Why should the Upanishadic texts, that were written thousands of years ago, still dictate our social behavior in the present?