Small bites of history

Book review of The Courtesan, the Mahatma & the Italian Brahmin

In this book’s afterword, simply titled “An Essay for Our Times”, young historian Manu S Pillai quotes a wide range of freedom fighters and intellectuals of pre-Independence India and the debates on nationalism, and arrives at the following conclusion: “Whether or not India’s diversity was an asset or a dangerous weakness depended on which of these visions was allowed to prevail and gain moral influence over the vast majority of the country’s people.” He warns that any attempt to “reengineer” the unity-in-diversity narrative, which has been official policy since Independence, is likely to result in significant challenges and even disaster.

This conclusion is not plucked out of thin air; to arrive at the final essay in the book, a conscientious reader has to go through 60 essay, neatly divided into two unequal parts — “Before the Raj” (25 essays) and “Stories from the Raj” (35 essays). Those who have followed Mr Pillai’s career since the publication of his extraordinary debut The Ivory Throne (2015), which I reviewed for this newspaper, might have read these essays earlier when they first appeared in his weekly column, ‘Medium Rare’ in Mint Lounge. Transforming one’s columns into a book might not be the best idea, because, devoid of their immediate contemporary context, the writing can seem dull. Mr Pillai’s book, however, does not suffer from this, primarily because each essay is a nugget of well-written history, easily absorbable.   

Both parts of the book have some extraordinary stories and characters. For instance, the Italian Brahmin of the title Roberto de Nobili, who set sail from Naples in 1604 and arrived at Madurai two years later. He soon realised that to spread Christianity in India, he would have to convert the upper caste Hindus, who till then rejected European missionaries as unclean, as they ate beef and kept no caste distinctions. Nobili decided very soon, “I will become a Hindu to save the Hindus” and embarked on a social experiment, learning Tamil and Telugu and taking on all aspects of a Brahminical life. Most of us will baulk at his casteism, but it is hard not to admire his unorthodox strategy.

A few pages later, you will come across the extraordinary story of “A Muslim Deity in a Hindu Temple”. The story dates back to the “fourteenth century and features a Muslim woman revered to this day as Tulukka Nachiyar (literally, ‘Tughlaq Princess’ or ‘Turkish Princess’), who is said to have fallen in love with a Hindu god.” According to the temple chronicles, armies of the Tughlaq sultan in Delhi raid a Vaishnava temple in south India and took back the deity. The temple authorities follow the marauder to Delhi and convince the sultan to return it. 

The story is not without a twist: While the deity was in the sultan’s palace, his daughter fell in love with it. When the god returns to his temple, he commands his followers to recognise his Muslim consort. Now, she is commemorated in Srirangam as a painting on the temple wall. The conclusion Mr Pillai arrives at: “It tells us once again that while there were moments of tension between India’s principal faiths, legend and myth allowed them to see eye to eye and engage on a fresh ground, even while competing in the realm of ideas — a lesson we would be wise to remember in our own contentious times, when revenge is sought from people long dead and gone, and violence justified in the name of so many gods.”

A couple of months back, a historian friend wondered why there was suddenly such a proliferation of popular history — biographies of all the major Mughals have been published already. Now, the rulers of the Delhi Sultanate before them are getting a fresh lease of life, along with Bhakti saints such as Guru Nanak and Kabir. Popular narratives of the growth of cities such as Delhi, Lucknow or Lahore have also been published and historical fiction consistently tops the bestseller lists. Perhaps a reason for the renewed interest in history is the recent contests over it. Mr Pillai’s book — well-researched and accessible — does a yeoman’s work in uncovering nuggets of history of which a general reader would have usually been unaware.

The Courtesan, the Mahatma & the Italian Brahmin 

Manu S Pillai

Context

Pages: 384: Rs 599 (hardback)