Gita Press and the Making of Hindu India (52 page)

Parallel to Gita Press’s antagonism to communist principles was its attack on the secular ideals of the new Indian republic. Secularism was always an anathema to the conservative Indian political class that had strongly rooted for India to be declared a Hindu nation. In the eyes of Gita Press, the government’s actions—opening the gates of temples to untouchables, introduction of the Hindu Code Bill and ambivalence on cow slaughter—were all manifestations of the evils of secularism.

By the 1960s it had become apparent to the likes of Poddar that India was not the nation they had envisioned it to be. As violence raged across India on a range of emotive issues like language in the south, religion in UP and ethnicity in Assam, Poddar saw this as symptomatic of a loss of values of sanatan Hindu dharma in the country and over- reliance on secularism.
¹³⁷
In the name of secularism, Poddar said, the country was ‘engaged in the vile work of making man a beast, devil or demon’
.
¹³⁸
He sounded the death knell for India in the absence of sanatan dharma: ‘. . . sanatan dharma is declining . . . This is a very dangerous thing for the future of the world. It is a supremely essential and immediately inevitable duty to understand this sanatan dharma, to arrange for the instruction of sanatan dharma in the syllabus of all the educational institutions . . .’

Poddar blamed the liberal attitude of Indian leaders and a foreign conspiracy for the rise of secularism, which he said created such a feeling of helplessness among the majority Hindus that they feared any expression of religious feelings would be termed communal.
¹³⁹

Secularism was branded a ‘curse’ in an article in
Kalyan
in 1968.
¹⁴⁰
It was blamed not only for obliterating India’s Hindu past but also for the creation of two distinguishable categories—Indians and Hindus. Gita Press attacked the separation of nation and religion. The dream of an exclusive Hindu nation had been shattered by the new inclusive India that had too many competing interests based on affiliations to caste, sect or ideology; this was seen as an assault on Hindu unity. Secularism led to appeasement of minorities while the ‘responsibility of being peaceful was entirely on the Hindus’
.

The author of the article Rajendra Prasad Jain gave a call for a dharmayudh (religious war) against secularism, which, he said, was the cause of religious, social and moral bankruptcy in the country. Citing a reported statement of former chief justice of India K. Subba Rao, he said that the word ‘secularism does not occur anywhere in the Constitution’.
¹⁴¹
In 1966, Jain had come up with the thesis that, given the experience of the first two decades of Independence, it was imperative that the country be declared a Hindu rashtra (nation).
¹⁴²
Two years later, he asked, ‘If secularism is an ideal, countries dominated by Muslims, communists and Christians should also follow it. Why should only Hindu-majority Bharat be made a sacrificial lamb?’
¹⁴³

As had been the case with the Hindu Mahasabha in the 1940s, there was a total unity of purpose between Gita Press and the Jana Sangh in the 1960s. Right from its inception, the Jana Sangh had been opposed to the espousal of secularism by the Congress. During the first general election in 1951–52, opposition to secularism made it to the Jana Sangh’s manifesto. In a language remarkably similar to Gita Press’s critique of secularism, the party promised dharma rajya that was not to be theocracy but merely rule of law, saying: ‘Secularism, as currently interpreted in this country, however, is only a euphemism for the policy of Muslim appeasement. The so-called secular composite nationalism is neither nationalism nor secularism but only a compromise with communalism of those who demand a price even for their lip loyalty to this country.’
¹⁴⁴

Bharatiya sanskriti (Indian culture) and maryada (dignity) were to be the basis of Jana Sangh’s dharma rajya. Indian culture was the assimilation of contributions of ‘different peoples, creeds and cultures’ to the main current in such a way as to make it ‘one and indivisible . . . Any talk of composite culture, therefore, is unrealistic, illogical and dangerous for it tends to weaken national unity and encourage fissiparous tendencies.’ For the Jana Sangh, Bharat itself was an ‘ancient nation’ whose ‘recently obtained freedom only marks the beginning of a new chapter in her long and chequered history, and not the birth of a new nation’
.

Gita Press’s grouse was that secularism had worked against Hinduism, allowing other religions to spread at its expense. Hindus were faulted for being too soft, compassionate and law-abiding. Facts and figures, often unsubstantiated, like the Christian population having gone up to ten million, the existence of 7,000 missionaries in the country and the alleged conversion of 30,000 Hindus to Christianity every month, were dished out regularly to prove that secularism had worked against the Hindus while other religions had prospered.
¹⁴⁵

Making a fine distinction between Hinduism and other religions like Christianity and Islam,
Kalyan
said, while others resorted to the sword to convert, Hinduism followed the path of non-violence. An appeal was made to Hindus not to sit idle as their religion was going through its darkest hour.
Kalyan
advised that the only way to deal with secularism was through Hindu unity, religious education of youth and large-scale mobilization—not only of the various Hindu sects but also religions that had emerged from Hinduism, such as Buddhism and Jainism. ‘Today our religion is in danger. Cows are being slaughtered. The honour and chastity of our mothers and daughters are under threat. Hindus wake up! Hindus unite!’

Gita Press and its various publications continue to attack the Indian state for its secular nature. The writings of ultra-conservatives like Swami Karpatri are reprinted in
Kalyan
to reiterate that secularism leads to the erosion of religious values in society.
¹⁴⁶

 

Times of Crises
The Chinese aggression of 1962, the first major failure of Nehru’s foreign policy, posed a challenge to Poddar and the entire Hindu right. They needed to live up to their claim of putting the nation before everything. Poddar termed the Chinese aggression an act of treachery that needed immediate and comprehensive retribution: ‘China should be taught such a lesson for this vile act that in future they have no courage or are left in no position for such misadventures.’
¹⁴⁷
He praised the Indian government and public for making the right efforts to punish the Chinese aggressors. He was particularly pleased with the manner in which an ‘unfortunate incident had resulted in creating a fortunate result—unity among men and women across religions and belief systems’. An appeal was made to readers of
Kalyan
to contribute whatever they could to the nation, reminding them that it was the duty of every Indian to fight the aggressor.

Even here, Poddar gave the strategic affair a spiritual and religious twist. India, he said, should also resort to ‘spiritual means’ to destroy China for casting an evil eye on the holy Himalayas. Such an effort, he said, would also liberate Tibet from the anti-God and anti-religion China.

Considering Nepal’s geographical proximity to China, Poddar hoped the Hindu kingdom would come to India’s rescue. In what would today be considered an attitude of aggressive domination by the citizens of the larger neighbour, Poddar coolly claimed: ‘India and Nepal are entirely one, India is Nepal and Nepal is India . . . Nepal is a matter of pride for India and Hindus because it is the only sanatan dharma Hindu rashtra (nation) . . . India and Nepal have one religion, one shastra and one God . . . It should be expected that in a moment of crisis when sanatan Hindu dharma is under attack from anti-religion, anti-God China, Nepal would lend adequate support.’

Days before this article appeared, Poddar had already written to King Mahendra of Nepal, saying that, though he had nothing to do with politics, he was making a religious appeal. He requested King Mahendra not to cooperate with anti-God China in its unjust and barbaric attack on India.
¹⁴⁸

Three years later, at the time of the India–Pakistan war of 1965, Poddar again justified Indian military action, saying Pakistan had become a nagging wound: ‘Just as one gets rid of a wound surgically, India is doing the same to Pakistan. This is out of beneficence, not animosity. This is not enmity. Though it has taken a serious form, all believers in truth and justice should support India . . . Pakistanis should be punished and at no cost should an unjust demon be supported.’
¹⁴⁹

A month later, Poddar produced a comprehensive analysis of the wars with Pakistan and China, blaming the two nations for provoking India. He regretted the very existence of Pakistan as ‘the biggest mistake . . . had India remained undivided there would not have been any attack nor would China have threatened India or US and Britain could have indulged in diplomatic manoeuvres’.
¹⁵⁰

Reiterating what had been the demand of the RSS, Hindu Mahasabha and Gita Press itself, Poddar said the best solution to deal with Pakistan would be its reintegration with India—this was the only way out for citizens of both nations. Poddar’s recipe to deal with China was no less straightforward: he suggested China be thrown out of Buddhist Tibet, as this would be ‘beneficial to India and the world’.

The two successive wars, especially the one with Pakistan, emboldened Poddar to raise the Hindu–Muslim identity question again. He reiterated the demand Gita Press and the Hindu Mahasabha had made on the eve of Independence, that the task of securing the nation should be left to Hindus. ‘The burden of India’s security indeed lies with the Hindus and only a Hindu can carry out this task properly. This principle should be fully internalized. Hindus should be trusted, given more opportunity and allowed to run India’s defence establishment. This is the only way we can be safe.’

Poddar said that, after the two wars, it could no longer be hidden that ‘in many provinces, most towns and villages, there are enough traitors, people who are sympathetic to Pakistan and China’. Without naming Muslims, Poddar contended there were people who had ties with Pakistan and China, those who helped Pakistan illegally and considered it to be their country. He warned against such people and demanded exemplary punishment for them.

However, months before the 1971 war with Pakistan that led to the birth of Bangladesh, when a severe flood engulfed East Pakistan Poddar wrote to Prime Minister Indira Gandhi conveying Gita Press’s ‘heartfelt sympathy’ and enclosing a cheque of Rs 5,000 as contribution to the relief fund. He requested Gandhi to ensure that the money was ‘transmitted to the Pakistan government or towards any relief fund started by you or your government . . .’
¹⁵¹

Given Poddar’s acrimony towards Pakistan, it is possible that this help was his way of lending support to East Pakistan where the Awami League was fighting a lone battle against the Pakistan People’s Party. The likely prospect of Pakistan disintegrating must have been something for him to be happy about. In fact, Poddar’s charity intervention for the natural calamity was among the few of his last public acts before his death in March 1971.

 

 

 

In
the winter of 1939 Hanuman Prasad Poddar was camping in Ram Krishna Dalmia’s cement factory at Dalmia Dadri in present- day Haryana. It was a period of deep despondency and one of the several points in his life when he would threaten to leave Gita Press. At such times, Poddar would move out of Gorakhpur, often to Ratangarh and sometimes, as in this case, to his dear friend Dalmia’s factory.

Poddar’s voluminous correspondence would be redirected to him wherever he went, and much of his time would be spent replying to letters, mostly queries from readers of
Kalyan.
Many were personal in nature, seeking Poddar’s spiritual guidance.

One of the letters Poddar received at Dalmia Dadri was from Bajrang Lal, a senior functionary of Gita Press. Lal, as Poddar’s reply reveals, asked Poddar whether over-dependence on God was a good thing. Poddar replied that in one’s devotion to God even in the face of adversity one should be like a ‘pativrata nari (loyal wife) who does not desert her husband even if he troubles her a lot, humiliates her in public’ and ‘does not cheat on him even if seduced with money’.
¹

Such a reply to an innocuous spiritual query, using a shockingly regressive image of an ideal Hindu wife, was neither inadvertent nor innocent. The ‘devoted and self-sacrificing’
²
female was at the centre of the moral universe that Gita Press inhabited both as practitioner and as propagator of sanatan Hindu dharma. The central role assigned to a woman by the patriarchal system was one that confined her to the inner recesses of the household and burdened her with responsibility for the family’s moral compass.

Gita Press’s advocacy of patriarchal control over women’s public and private spheres was not as out of tune with the times as one might expect. The reformist zeal that had marked the second half of the nineteenth century had not progressed, as it logically should have, to second-generation social reform at the beginning of the twentieth century. Just the reverse had happened, and by the time Gita Press came into existence, the situation was ripe to further the conservative agenda, at the centre of which stood the hapless Hindu nari (woman).

What went wrong? Historian Ghulam Murshid has attributed the slowdown in social reform to the rise of nationalism that ‘glorified India’s past and tended to defend everything traditional’, but Partha Chatterjee contests Murshid’s claim as based on ‘rather simple and linear assumptions’.
³
Chatterjee is more in agreement with Sumit Sarkar who highlighted the ‘limitations of the nineteenth-century renaissance’ in which ‘instead of any autonomous feminist pressure to improve their lot’, the ‘initiative came essentially from men’.
⁴

Further, Sarkar argues, the campaign for social change could not metamorphose into a full-blown movement because the efforts made in the ninteenth century had a ‘strong personal dimension’. Reforms in Hindu society were focused on ‘upper-caste social evils like sati, the widow-remarriage taboo or
kulin
polygamy’, leaving intact the ‘emphasis on puritanical norms and restraints’ that had a ‘strong patriarchal aspect’.

Extending Sarkar’s argument, Partha Chatterjee contends that ‘the material/spiritual distinction was condensed into an analogous, but ideologically far more powerful dichotomy: that between the outer and the inner’.
⁵
The outside world with its unpredictable nature and infirmities was the ‘domain of the male’ and the inner world, the home, had to ‘remain unaffected by the profane activities of the material world’ and therefore was the domain of the woman. The construct of the outer/inner world also emanated from the nationalist contention that while the European power with its might and ‘superior material culture’ ruled India, it ‘had failed to colonize the inner, essential, identity of the East which lay in its distinctive, and superior, spiritual culture’. Chatterjee concludes that by fusing the ‘home/world dichotomy’ with ‘gender roles’, nationalists dealt with the women’s question: ‘It was not a dismissal of modernity; the attempt was rather to make modernity consistent with the nationalist project.’

Writing at length on the concept of ghar/bahar (home/outside world), Poddar argued the two were not exclusive: ‘Man and woman together form a ghar, the home, the family. A man goes outside for his ghar and woman remains inside for the same ghar. If need be, for social and religious reasons and within certain limits, a woman can step outside the ghar with her husband and sons. Similarly, a man comes to the ghar not to rule and demonstrate his achievements of bahar, but to live. The system of ghar-bahar is to secure the family and make it prosperous.’
⁶

 

Preserving the Purity of Women
As early as 1926, the year of
Kalyan
’s birth, among the dozen-odd books brought out by Gita Press was a forty-six-page monograph
Stri
Dharma Prashnottari
(Questions and Answers on Women’s Dharma), a sort of compendium of a woman’s duties, by Hanuman Prasad Poddar. Its popularity can be discerned from the simple fact that it is still in print, over a million copies having been sold over the decades. It is currently priced at Rs 5.

Str
i Dharma Prashnottari
was just the beginning—over its years of existence, Gita Press has published innumerable tracts on women, their education, their duties as housewives, their sexuality and hygiene and in general their role in society. Prominent among these are
Nari Dharma
and
Striyon Ke Liye Kartavya Shiksha
by Jaydayal Goyandka,
Bhakt
Nari
, Nari Shiksha
and
Dampatya Jivan Ka Adarsh
by Poddar,
Grihasta
Mei
n Kaise Rahen
and
Prashnottar Manimala
by Swami Ramsukhdas
.
⁷
In 1948,
Kalyan
published its
Nari Ank
. Besides this, articles on subjects relating to women regularly appeared in the monthly issues of
Kalyan
and in the special issues on
Manavta
(Humanity, 1959),
Sadachar
(Ideal Behaviour, 1978),
Shiksha
(Education, 1988) and
Charitra Nirman
(Character Building, 1983).

Stri Dharma Prashnottari
provided the model for the Gita Press’s oeuvre on women. Written in the style of a conversation between two women, the monograph stands out for its misogynist intent. The choice of the women’s names is interesting: the one seeking knowledge is Sarala, the simpleton (saral meaning simple or uncomplicated), and the one educating her about women’s duties is Savitri, the devoted wife of ancient Indian mythology, the ideal Hindu woman. Each answer Savitri gives to Sarala’s questions is an instruction, a lesson that liberally cites the shastras.

In all Gita Press publications on women, the language used is reformist in tone and prescriptive in nature. Poddar and others made it clear that a woman’s non-adherence to the set rules could affect the broader Hindu society. The onus was on the woman to be the flag bearer of morality, purity and chastity. Only then could an ideal family—and by extension an ideal nation—be formed.

One factor that possibly played an important role in Gita Press’s overemphasis on women and their purity may be the Marwari community’s trajectory of migration from the small towns and nondescript villages of Rajasthan to the then colonial capital Calcutta or other big cities. It was common practice among first-generation migrants to leave the elders, womenfolk and children in Rajasthan, where a well-lubricated network of relatives provided support for each other. However, this practice came with a huge social cost. In November 1929, the hugely popular Hindi journal
Chand
published a special issue on the Marwaris that, as we saw in an earlier chapter, shook the Marwari world. The articles primarily focused on the uncontrolled sexuality of lonely and unfulfilled Marwari women, citing at length the pulp literature coming out of Jaipur—works like
Khayal Chhote Kanth
Ko
(Thinking of a Younger Husband),
Kaki Jetuth Ka Khayal
(Thinking about Aunt and Nephew), both published by Kanhaiyalal Bookseller of Jaipur’s Tripolia Bazar, and
Do Gori Ka Balma
(A Lover of Two Women) by Ishwarlal Bookseller. These were all written in Marwari and claimed to be based on real incidents that highlighted the promiscuity of Marwari women and related tales of sexual escapades and incestuous relationships within households.

Eight years after the controversial
Marwari Ank
,
Chand
carried an article by Sukhda Devi, the late wife of Chandkaran Sharda, Poddar’s friend and a respected figure among Marwaris, also a leading light of the Arya Samaj movement. While Sharda wrote on the virtues of Hindu dharma for
Kalyan
, Sukhda Devi’s article in
Chand
exposed the pitiable condition of Marwari women.
⁸
In many ways, it was a first-person account of life in the inner chambers of a prosperous Marwari mansion. Wealth, she said, had not brought happiness. She condemned the duplicity of the community that did not think twice when contributing Rs 50,000 to Gandhi for the popularization of Hindi, but had shown no such enthusiasm in opening schools for Marwari girls. Without education, the world of a Marwari woman had shrunk to narrow interests in dress and jewellery, gossip and the desire to marry off sons the moment they reached the age of sixteen.

Sukhda Devi exposed the ills in the Marwari domestic world, from marriages of young girls with older men, to domestic violence. She said there was not a single Marwari household where the men had not married twice or thrice. On the other hand, Marwari widows, often young, were not allowed to remarry, as a result of which, Sukhda Devi said, ‘widows have become immoral’.

She appealed to Marwari women to make efforts to open schools that would teach girls home science, economics, cooking, medical care and midwifery along with providing a general education. ‘We should take steps forward along with the world. Marwari girls should not be any less than girls of other communities.’ She concluded with the remark, ‘God helps those who help themselves’, after urging women to protest against oppressive social practices.

The theme of loneliness and the confinement of Marwari women to the domestic sphere continues to inspire literary works in present times, as seen in the 2001 Hindi novel
Peeli Aandhi
(Yellow Storm) by Prabha Khaitan, a member of the community. Her book is a portrayal of three generations of Marwari women spread across 100–150 years, their struggles and successes in carving an identity for themselves in the wider progressive social context of Bengal.
⁹

Poddar and Goyandka, who were to become the conscience-keepers of the community, had themselves lived the double life of migrant bachelors in Calcutta and married men in Rajasthan. In their view, women were a source of social malaise, and they needed to aspire to the ideals of purity represented by their ancient predecessors like Savitri and Shakuntala. This purity was a comprehensive concept that had to manifest itself in every aspect of a woman’s being: education, marriage, domestic affairs, sex life and health. The promiscuity of men was neither part of the debate nor considered a problem. It was only women who were expected to remain chaste under all circumstances, to bear the unfaithful behaviour of their husbands and resist being seduced by other men.

 

Women’s Education
In
Stri Dharma Prashnottari
,
¹⁰
as the dialogue between the two women proceeds, Sarala asks if education for women is a bad thing; could it result in her becoming a widow as was widely believed? Savitri rubbishes this: ‘If that is the case then in jatis (communities) among whom education is common all women would have become widows.’ Sarala then asks if education makes a woman immoral, and Savitri emphatically denies this too. Education, she says, fuels dharma in a woman, makes her more able in her domestic work. This kind of education comes from religious texts that not only enhance knowledge and give one strength to deal with any crisis, but also helps one avoid bad habits and imbibe good traits. ‘Immorality and decadence set in not due to education but a host of other factors like lack of education, living in the company of promiscuous women, roaming from household to household, indulging in immoral talk and quarrelling with husbands.’

Now Sarala pointedly asks what kind of education should be imparted to women; should it be of the kind prevalent in schools? Savitri replies that education for girls should on the one hand help them to understand the teachings of the Ramayana, Gita,
Manusmriti
, Mahabharata and other religious texts, and on the other enhance their domestic skills—cooking, sewing and needlework, taking care of the male child and following the orders of her husband. She disapproves of the education currently being imparted in girls’ schools: ‘English and English (Western) culture has entered these schools, destroying the Hindu ideals. Fashion is on the rise and so is the love for sensuous pleasure. Women despise and have lost interest in housework. A better part of their time is spent beautifying themselves. The importance of religion is on the wane. Such an education is definitely not needed for Hindu women.’

Savitri strongly advocates educational reform so that the Hindu girl can become an ideal Hindu woman with qualities like love for religion and ethics; devotion to her husband and her elders; compassion for the poor and selflessness in service to mankind; interest in household work; control of expenses; and hatred for sensual pleasure.

With school education denied to a girl, Sarala wants to know if she should forever remain under the command of her parents. Savitri says this is not only necessary but also dharma for girls: ‘According to our shastras, in all situations the stri-jati (women) should not become independent . . . At a young age, the girl should be under the command of her father, in her youth under the control of her husband and after the death of her husband under the care of her sons.’