Book Review: Buddha in Gandhara - Af-Pak region's forgotten history

A richly researched travelogue along the Buddhist corridor in Afghanistan and Pakistan reminds readers of the vibrant pre-Islamic heritage of the region

Buddha in Gandhara

Author: Sunita Dwivedi

Publisher: Rupa

Price: Rs 795

Pages: 328

Words can set us free to travel vast distances in the realm of our imagination, even if our physical reality seems tied to lockdowns and night curfews. This is what I experienced while reading Sunita Dwivedi’s book Buddha in Gandhara, which blends archaeology and art history with faith, legend, economics and international relations. It offers a refreshing vantage point to examine the past and present of India’s neighbourhood.
 
The author is a Silk Road traveller, photographer and independent researcher. She writes, “Gandhara, comprising the Northwest Frontier regions of Pakistan and eastern and north-eastern Afghanistan, has been part of the colossal Buddhist corridor that connected the Bay of Bengal with Balkh through the ancient Uttarapath — the Northern Highroad, known as the Sher Shah Suri Marg during medieval times and the present-day Grand Trunk Road.”
 
This book will surprise those Indian readers who are unfamiliar with the pre-Islamic history of Pakistan and Afghanistan. It celebrates the religious diversity and cultural confluence that have been an enduring feature of South Asia. It also offers a wealth of material for policymakers who are open to thinking about how India’s Buddhist diplomacy can extend beyond Sri Lanka, Bhutan, Nepal and the Asean countries and also include Pakistan and Afghanistan.
 
Reading Dwivedi’s book felt like sitting on a magic carpet, closing my eyes, and accompanying her on those exciting travels to Manikyala, Taxila, Charsadda, Mardan, Jamalgarhi, Kapisa, Bamiyan, Kunduz, Mes Aynak and Kandahar among other places mapped out on her itinerary. Her descriptions made me visualise not only stupas, meditation halls and relics from a bygone era but also traders, warriors and missionaries who walked the earth many centuries ago.
 
Clarifying her objective, the author writes, “This book is a humble effort towards recreating a journey on the Buddha’s trail along the Lahore-Peshawar and Kabul-Samangan routes to the once-thriving cities of Gandhara, a name synonymous with Buddha’s Dhamma (doctrine) and the emblem of spellbinding Gandharan art. It sheds light on the remnants of monastic centres and the brilliant artistic genius of its craftsmen who embellished them.”
 
Dwivedi does not try to erase the researcher from the research. She draws attention to how her influential contacts in Pakistan and Afghanistan opened literal and metaphorical doors for her. She did not get unfettered access in Pakistan on account of being an Indian, however. Perhaps after reading this book, diplomats in India and Pakistan will consider easing restrictions for scholars who are keen on doing immersive work to advance bilateral ties.
 
The author points out that the “2000-km-long Buddhist corridor” connecting Bangladesh, India, Pakistan and Afghanistan has “immense potential for heritage tourism” in these countries. Apart from earning the blessings of pilgrims, the respective governments would also be able to generate revenue to feed into repair and restoration work. The heritage sites that are located in remote areas could benefit from schemes to support local livelihoods.
 
Dwivedi writes, “The cities that once made up the cherished land of Gandhara are the custodians of a fascinating history, a narrative that is evidence of Gandhara’s commercial vitality on the Silk Road and its religious fervour in promoting the triple gem of Buddha, Dhamma and Sangha. They were not only scholastic hubs from where emerged great scholars of languages and philosophy but also ateliers from where arose great art.”
 
She laments the destruction of sites that have been lost due to mining, trafficking of precious antiquities, institutional neglect, construction of modern roads, and acts of vandalism over centuries. The damage cannot be reversed but this shared heritage can show both India and Pakistan the path to script a new future. The idea of a Buddhist Corridor is certainly worth exploring because the opening of the Kartarpur Corridor has been well-received.
 
While India and Afghanistan enjoy warm diplomatic ties, the security situation does not offer a conducive environment for tourism at the moment. Dwivedi was able to visit the sites she has written about because she had well-placed local contacts and private transport on which to rely. Moreover, the memory of the Bamiyan Buddhas blown up by the Taliban in 2001 remains fresh in the minds of many Indians, regardless of whether they are Buddhists or not.
 
The author compliments the Afghan Institute of Archaeology and Pakistan’s Department of Archaeology and Museums for their efforts in “carrying out new excavations to unearth buried ancient monasteries” and in recovering “marvellous specimens of Gandharan art”. Their work is a valuable service not only to South Asia but to the entire world. It is, however, not easy because they are surrounded by majoritarianism and religious extremism.
 
Recent evidence for hostility towards minorities in Pakistan is available in a report titled “Online hatred pushing minorities to the periphery: An analysis of Pakistani social media feeds” (2021) commissioned by an NGO called Minority Rights Group International, which has a consultative status with the United Nations Economic and Social Council. The report has been authored by Bytes for All (B4A), a human rights organisation and think tank in Pakistan.
 
In March 2021, B4A issued a press release urging authorities “to implement a comprehensive legislative and administrative framework in accordance with the international human rights law to curb hate speech and hate crimes against minority groups, and also ensure an effective redress mechanism for victims of hate crimes”. Such measures could help build the ground for heritage tourism in Pakistan, not only from India but also from other countries.
 
Dwivedi seems confident of a future that honours the past but is not held hostage by it. While reading the book, I felt energised by the hope in her words. She writes, “Braving time, nature’s fury and human greed, the remains of these monasteries and their antiquities remind us of Asia’s splendid heritage and stand as symbols of peace and scholarship in times of strife and ignorance.” This is certainly an enlightened approach to politics.