Political
lesson of demography
By
Sandhya Jain
August 26 2003
The tasteless offensive by certain groups in London against
Gujarat Chief Minister Narendra Modi, the motivated uproar against the release
of the accused in the Best Bakery carnage following perjury by a series of
witnesses from one community, the studied silence
against the massacre of Hindu fishermen in Marad, the demonisation of those who
object to evangelical activities in their communities, and numerous such daily
occurrences draw attention to what we must honestly concede are communal fault
lines. We must also admit that, in recent times, inter-community
relations have been marked more by irritability and suspicion than by harmony.
This growing communal tension merits serious introspection
from academics and analysts alike. When a culture as
famously tolerant and inclusivist as India's native tradition has been through
centuries, begins to show stress and anguish in its modern dealings with
exclusivist traditions that nonetheless claim to be peaceful and secular, there
is need to examine how things have come to this pass. Obviously,
there cannot be an easy answer to the question, but an honest inquiry will throw
up interesting variables.
Changing demography in specifically targeted regions is one
possible answer. It would be dishonest to deny that sharp changes in the
demographic patterns of certain areas is not perceived as alarming by ordinary
citizens, or even administrators. Given the fact that this is also a politically
sensitive issue, the Indian Council of Social Science Research (ICSSR) deserves
kudos for daring to fund a study on the changing religious profile of India by
the Centre for Policy Studies, Chennai. Titled 'Religious Demography of India',
this voluminous work is the fruit of the academic courage of Drs AP Joshi, MD
Srinivas and JK Bajaj.
Striding terrain over which angels fear to tread, the trio
has attempted to trace the rise and decline of religious populations in
undivided India, as also present-day India, Pakistan and Bangladesh, and make
projections for the future. Understandably, they have raised hackles in our
effete and 'secular' groves of academia. While their methodology and statistical
projections are a matter for subject experts, I feel they have drawn attention
to issues of immense significance, which have hitherto been ignored in public
discourse. For this reason alone, their effort deserves to be commended.
The authors have chosen to be straightforward, without being
offensive, in stating the fundamentals of the matter. Simply put, their argument
is that India has had a unique culture and civilisation
for millennia, anchored in its native sanatan dharma, which was accepted even by
foreign invaders until the advent of monotheistic creeds disrupted this ancient
inclusivity and catholicity.
What is more, for all its apparent diversity and variety,
Indian culture was homogenous. This is a point that deserves to be emphasised as
it has been studiously effaced from public consciousness in the decades since
Independence. Yet as the renowned demographer Kingsley Davis perceptively
observed (1951): "Indian ideas and institutions ... resemble those of no
other people. They have a peculiar shape and flavour of their own ... This
peculiar culture has to some degree penetrated and pervaded nearly every part of
what is geographically India. It has everywhere been affected by local,
indigenous variations ... But neither the geographical nor the social barriers
inside the subcontinent have been sufficient to prevent the widespread diffusion
of a common, basic culture, which despite great variation is peculiar to
India."
This common basic culture received its first serious rupture
when Islam reached the heartland of India towards the end of the 12th century
AD, with the defeat of Prithviraj Chauhan. Given the nature of the study, the
authors have wisely avoided the contentious issue of forcible conversions. They
have, however, observed that all Islamic rulers were unswerving in their
commitment to maintain a distinct Islamic identity. Acculturation into the
spiritual milieu of India was stubbornly resisted; the rulers for the first time
professed a faith different (indeed, it was also opposed) to that of the
populace. And with time, they sponsored the growth of a community that was
similarly at variance with the native cultural ethos.
The British added a chapter to this religious heterogeneity
by their systematic patronage and propagation of Christianity. But their
abiding, and far more dangerous legacy, was the negation of India's
civilisational homogeneity and de-legitimisation of its hoary civilisational
principles.
What is equally pertinent is that
Christian evangelisation has been extremely aggressive and unapologetic in the
post-Independence period, as witnessed in the North-east under the patronage of
Jawaharlal Nehru and his successors, and in other parts of the country. That
there is a design behind conversions can be readily gauged from Pope John Paul
II's acerbic remarks against the Tamil Nadu Government's recent legislation
against change of faith through force, fraud or inducement.
Given the statistical parameters of the study, the authors
have refrained from commenting on some of the interesting socio-economic and
cultural issues that arise as a result of their projections. They have avoided
the issue of India's failure to assert its ancient civilisational ethos after
Independence. They have, however, candidly pointed out that religion,
particularly the large presence of a religious community in compact border
regions, was the cause of Partition less than six decades ago. And they have
graphically established the current build-up of such religious concentrations
along sensitive borders, which any police station in-charge could tell you is
the result of design, not accident.
Much of the information is not new. Yet, when presented with
a map and statistics, only a cynic can be unaffected by the alarming growth of
Muslim presence in the border belt comprising Bahraich, Gonda, Basti, Gorakhpur
and Deoria of eastern UP; Champaran, Muzaffarpur, Darbhanga, Saharsa, Purnia and
Santhal Pargana districts of Bihar; West Dinajpur, Malda, Birbhum and
Murshidabad of West Bengal; Goalpara, Kamrup, Darrang and Nagaon of Assam.
Muslim population of this belt is said to touch 28 per cent, an increase of
seven per cent in just four decades. Other pockets of high Muslim growth include
western UP, Cachar (Assam) and Kolkata (West Bengal).
Among other sensitive border regions, Kerala has 23 per cent
Muslims and 19 per cent Christians. The Lakshadweep Islands are predominantly
Muslim (approximately 94 per cent). The Andaman and Nicobar Islands are largely
Christian, as is the Northeast. Tripura has resisted evangelisation and
Christians comprise less than two percent of the population (1991 figures). In
Arunachal Pradesh, there is cause for alarm. Though there were no Christians in
1961, they now constitute 10 per cent of the population. Meghalaya also had a
sprinkling of Christians in 1901, but by 1931 both Meghalaya and Nagaland had 10
to 15 per cent Christians. By 1951, Mizoram was almost completely Christian, as
was half of Nagaland. In Manipur, Christians form 34 per cent of the population,
but most outer districts are Christian.
Clearly, there is a message in the statistics which we can
ignore at our own peril. In recent years, East Timor has separated from
Indonesia because of religious demography. Thus, the lesson of history is that
monotheistic creeds have difficulty coexisting even with sister monotheisms, let
alone gentler traditions like the sanatan dharma. Barring this reality from
public discourse would be a destructive ostrich-like attitude. We need to
recognise the gravity of the situation, defend our civilisational presence on
our borders and interiors, and take pride in our national genius.
(source:
dailypioneer.com -
August
26 2003
http://dailypioneer.com/indexn12.asp?main_variable=EDITS&file_name=edit3%2Etxt&counter_img=3
).
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