Sthree Dharma

[Bharatvarsh]

I came across a series of interesting articles on Roop Kunwar's Sati, I do not agree with Sati (different from Jauhar) in principle or practice but these articles really do make interesting points that are worth pondering about:
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin-->'Horror of Sati’ or Tyranny of the Elect?
by Patrick Harrigan
The Statesman (Calcutta & New Delhi) of 5th November 1987

"What is most astonishing...is not that a Rajput widow has performed the rite of sati, for in doing so she simply demonstrates her assent to the set of principles and beliefs that make one a Rajput in the traditional sense. Nor is it surprising that a handful of English-educated exponents of ‘social progress’ would take upon themselves the moral burden of "uplifting the ignorant masses", i.e. to make others see things their way. Rather, it is the unanimous barrage of rabidly anti-sati sentiment filling the English language press and the complete absence of dialogue or discussion between the two sides that shocks and disappoints not only the foreign scholar but also, presumably, anyone else sharing an interest in the survival of democratic as well as traditional institutions in twentieth-century India."

Of late there has been a commotion in the Indian press concerning an incident of sati, or ritual self-immolation, which occurred recently in a remote village in Rajasthan. In a chilling act of courage reminiscent of Rajasthan’s days of glory, a teen-aged bride is reported to have coolly mounted her deceased husband’s funeral pyre and consented to be immolated together with her spouse before the gaze of a few hundred onlookers. The controversy ignited by this young Rajput heroine is still burning, and is unlikely to be soon forgotten.

Except for a small press article that was released nationally, the whole incident might have escaped the attention of the reading public outside of Rajasthan. But once it became known that a Sati Mata shrine was to be erected in honor of Roop Kanwar, feminists across the country (or, at least, ‘hundreds’ of them in certain cities) sent a flurry of irate letters to press editors and politicians demanding that official action be taken so that “no public function be allowed to be held that would glorify the ghastly practice of sati.”

The English language press was quick to seize onto a good story, and joined hands with outraged feminists in a campaign to denounce sati practice and to ‘throw the book’ at anyone associated, however innocently, with the incident of Roop Kanwar’s sati. Next it was the politicians who were seen climbing on board to be the first and loudest to express their moral outrage. Finally it fell upon the courts and local police to bring their sticks down upon participating sympathizers and to rigorously prevent any future recurrence.

Merely “curious”?

What this observer finds most astonishing is not that a Rajput widow has performed the rite of sati, for in doing so she simply demonstrates her assent to the set of principles and beliefs that make one a Rajput in the traditional sense. Nor is it surprising that a handful of English-educated exponents of ‘social progress’ would take upon themselves the moral burden of ‘uplifting the ignorant masses’, i.e. to make others see things their way. Rather, it is the unanimous barrage of rabidly anti-sati sentiment filling the English language press and the complete absence of any dialogue or discussion between the two sides that shocks and disappoints not only the foreign scholar but also, presumably, anyone else sharing an interest in the survival of democratic as well as traditional institutions in twentieth-century India.

Judging by the outcry in the English papers, one might suppose that Indian society as a whole deplores sati. The facts, however, indicate just the opposite. Against the ‘hundreds’ who so vehemently complained, a reported two to four hundred thousand men, women and children quietly ‘voted with their feet’ by attending a Vedic ceremony in Deorala village on the thirteenth day after the rite of immolation. And this occurred, we are told, despite a Government order to prevent "outsiders" from attending.

In this instance, it seems that the Government itself was the principal "outsider". Although vehicular traffic was stopped fourteen kilometers from the village, this did not deter the pilgrims, including many old and infirm people, who simply left their means of transport and walked the remaining distance. Oddly, the same papers chose to describe these hundreds of thousands of the devout as being merely "curious".

Certainly, when lakhs of traditional villagers actually brave the elements, not to mention official hostility, to come on foot from afar on such short notice to attend a ceremony honoring a sati, then there must be crores more who were unable to attend but who remain altogether sympathetic in principle. And yet, scarcely a single voice has been heard to articulate the view of the overwhelming majority who not only merely approve of, but deeply respect and admire, the faith and courage embodied in an act that so horrifies adherents of the modern mentality.

Few people, and certainly not this writer, would dare to suggest that the few cases of involuntary sati that are said to have occurred in the past are in any way laudable. Rather, these are cases of homicide mitigated by considerations of belief and customs. Indian statutory law, however, appears to be dead set against sati in principle. Influenced by foreign-biased education, generations of India’s elite have learned to espouse foreign values with a sense of self-righteousness that is seldom found among the foreigners themselves. By itself, it has done little harm, but these same self-appointed moral policemen, beginning with Raja Rammohan Roy and others like him some 160 years ago, have gone on to impose their newly-adopted values, through Government and public education, upon the rest of their countrymen.

Seductive Labels

The less privileged masses follow meekly, trusting implicitly in the in the ultimate value of a modern education, having for so long been assured of its unquestionable superiority. The result is a veritable tyranny of the elect, all in the name of ‘progress’, or whatever happens to be the current fashion.

Evidently, in the course of acquiring a ‘modern’ education, untold numbers of young people from grade school onwards are unwittingly being sold a readymade foreign set of anti-traditional values, all neatly packaged for Indian soil with such high-sounding labels as ‘modern’ and ‘progressive’. Nobody, it seems, ever questions the meaning of these concepts, which have today become the new sacred cows of aspiring middle-class India.

Nor, for that matter, does anyone appear to consider deeply what the long-term impact will be of widespread modem education upon the social fibre of India’s rural and urban masses. Rising material expectations, growing dissatisfaction with traditional modes of thought, and increasing reliance upon material solutions to problems ancient and modern have been the fruit, in social terms, of the highly-touted ‘modern education’.

Historically, the first modern schools in India, and still the standard for others, were those funded and directed by foreign missionaries, whose avowed intention was to undermine pagan creeds through proving the falsity and inferiority of traditional education and values. No effort or expense was spared to ensure that the greatest prestige and social advantage would accrue to a ‘progressive education’. Even those who did not explicitly convert to the new religion still acquired the conceit that they had emerged into the light of day and that it was now their duty to uplift the ignorant country folk to their sublime level. A full century and a half later, the modern-educated elite of India is still operating under the same worn-out assumptions. The blind still follow the blind, even when furnished with titles and university diplomas.

Modern ills

Even today, it is still the foreign-inspired urban elements who presume to enlighten and lead the masses of traditional village India. Employing the same catch-phrases and ‘ism’s as have served to plunge the rest of the world into conflict and moral depravity, they declare that they would put an end to such “ghastly practices” as sati. And yet, a careful look at India’s cities, their homes and the very hotbeds of the modern mentality, is enough to undermine and expose their whole presumption. For where, but from the cities, does all the turmoil and terrorism in modern India originate? Is not the modern urban mentality itself the source of our social diseases?

For example, the current decade has witnessed the birth on a broad scale of modern-style bride-burning in a fashion that is far more ghastly than the traditional rite of self-immolation that is an option for devout and heroic bereaved widows. Hapless modern urban brides, subjected first to emotional abuse and humiliation, finally meet with a horrible and degrading end by being doused in kerosene and set ablaze by greed-intoxicated in-laws, who report the crime as a “cooking accident”. Nobody knows for certain how many women in the flower of youth annually suffer this grisly end, but it is clearly an urban phenomenon, most rampant in the national capital itself, the very place that is looked toward as the model for the rest of the country.

Traditional sati, as is well-known in Rajasthan and elsewhere, is a matter of principle, something that material pragmatists will never comprehend or believe. Bharat Mata is great, precisely because her children are free to live and to die according to the principles that govern their lives. This freedom is in danger of extinction in the face of powerful and ruthlessly intolerant forces masquerading behind an array of good intentions. The time comes for everybody to be brought to account.

http://hamsa.org/tyranny-elect.htm<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin-->Is Tradition Ridiculed by Western Values?"
Letter to the Editor
by Patrick Harrigan
The Statesman (Calcutta & New Delhi) of 5th January 1988
Dear Mr. Datta-Ray,

It was heartening to see the volley of letters responding to my article "Tyranny of the Elect?" that was published earlier in The Statesman (of 5th November, 1987). While some arguments were to be taken less seriously than others, it was still a clear demonstration (esp. the letter from Amalendu Das Gupta) that scholarship and critical thinking are alive and well amidst the very elect who were singled out for attention in the original article. As the culprit who wrote the piece, my inadequacies are abundantly evident (for the record: I am not a teacher, but a student of your poetry). The profusion of excellent points and counterpoints that were raised tend to further suggest that there is justification for a full public appraisal of such issues as sati. But do let us listen to the meek and humble as well, who so often are not heard until it is too late. As a self-confessed foreigner, I can only point out that there are many indeed whose views do not receive consideration. This is my small service to you the educated and uneducated alike, who may question my integrity.

The writers to the editor deserve a full response to the questions they have raised. Their sheer numbers, however, place such a task outside the scope of this letter, which aims for a reconciliation of the two sides of the issue. Leaving questions of historicity (an imported concept, let us recall) to the historians, we are left with the fundamental social phenomenon of a privileged elite that has grown alienated from the masses by way of its radically different set of values. You, the privileged, have availed yourselves of the international marketplace of ideas, thereby both distinguishing yourselves from the masses and alienating yourselves at the same time. In this respect I am quite like you: privileged and alienated. This has not stopped me from striving for meaning and balance in human affairs, just as it is not stopping you. If our God-given (or ‘naturally-endowed’, if you prefer) intelligence were employed properly, much of this suffering would be unnecessary. The analogy to the American struggle to end slavery in the last century is useful: do you wish to repeat their mistakes and live to witness bloody civil conflict on your own soil?

And yet, that is precisely the ugly scenario that has become common in this part of the world. And how? In the name of democratic principles, and with the very best intentions, privileged people like you and I have placed the educated opinion of the few above the sentiments of the many. Democracy, like it or not, is trust in the rule of the majority. When such trust is not found, then where is democracy? There are ways for social transition to occur happily: the imposition of conformity through threats and intimidation is not one of them. Resentment festers, until it becomes an open wound. Painful divisions follow.

In the case of India, the alienation and indoctrination of modern-educated urban dwellers makes it all but impossible for them to conceive of a grown woman freely consigning herself to the flames. They can only insist to themselves and others that the woman had to be forced or duped into doing it. It is a human marvel, both that such a woman is still seen to exist and that thousands, upon hearing, refuse even to admit its possibility. Let us repeat, for the sake of those who did not read the article carefully, that we are not discussing forced ‘sati’, which is not sati at all, but a form of homicide.

I am indebted to Dr. S.K. Chakraborty for the following observations. First, it is pointed out that we are fettered in our understanding by our total conditioning based upon a body-centered self-identification, a notion that is universally rejected in traditional thought. Secondly, in the sacred rite of marriage (what matters if it is Vedic, or not?) man and woman are said to be united as one soul in two bodies. And yet we are horrified when we see an actual example demonstrating deep conviction to principle. Thirdly, Indian womanhood is still, despite agitation in certain quarters, the embodiment of lofty spiritual values such as nishkam karma, total selflessness. They are admired and highly esteemed for just this reason. With the gradual vanishing of such living examples, India’s secret strength may also disappear.

The traditional rural mentality is so far removed from that of modern-indoctrinated society that it appears incomprehensible. As such, we tag it with labels such as ‘retrograde’ and ‘superstitious’. There is simple wisdom to be found in grass-roots village India. But we are blind to it, held in the grip of our own convictions. Do we know what evils villagers see or hear of when they come to the city? Violence and degradation of women in the cinema and elsewhere, eve-teasing on the public buses, terrorism and bride-burning, to mention but a few. Shall we expect villagers to respect moral injunctions issued from communities that spawn and nurture such evils? Let us try to see it from their perspective, just for once. We must put our own houses in order first, if we would have others behave as we do.

To those who say that sati is an aberrant custom, let it be pointed out that as long as it is felt to be an embarrassment in the eyes of the world, it must be regarded as aberrant. But when it is looked upon as a matter of pride, as much of the nation does that still understands, then who will object to a genuine sati? The greatest aberration of all that Indian civilization has ever had to face is the invading mentality that covertly subverts traditional values at the same time that it ridicules them. Why should it need a foreigner to remind you of this? Your own teachers have been warning you for long.

Twenty years ago, the world was shocked when Vietnamese Buddhist monks, out of principle, immolated themselves in public. Although the act finds no support in Buddhist doctrine at all, the Vietnamese people were not ashamed in the least; quite the contrary. But here in India, English schoolmasters did their job thoroughly, such that their morality perpetuates itself in succeeding generations of elite citizens, who thrust the same upon others in the sincere belief that they are the custodians of truth. But is not the mark of an education the ability to sympathize with and understand the views of others? Or is education only competing systems of indoctrination?

Regarding the incident at Deorala, well-intending people have smeared Roop Kanwar by bringing into question, nay, by refusing even to admit the possibility of, her capability of rising to such a sublime level of courage and idealism. Is it because they feel incapable of it themselves that they deny its possibility to others? And what about the hundreds of principled men and women of Deorala who say they saw Roop Kanwar die a heroine’s death? Was it greed that motivated them, or are we projecting our own priorities onto others? We have so lightly brought into question the integrity of an entire community. What qualifies us to make such judgments? Certain interests have solemnly told us that there were no “objective witnesses” present, for they could find no one who would agree with them. Now that threats and intimidation have muzzled one side, we are told that objective witnesses have been produced after all who will echo allegations made by people who were not there. Are we to believe that they are conducting a search for truth, when the verdict was issued long ago? Shades of witch-hunting!

In conclusion, I would like to apologize again for the unavoidable circumstance of my not being Indian by birth. But how foreign to India are the thoughts that have been given expression here? There may be harm found in modern ideologies, and there may not, but what harm is there in experiencing the world as Indians have long seen it? Modern technology has brought us to this advanced state, but it is blind. It is not weaponry, but moral bankruptcy, that has pushed the world to the brink of annihilation. A happy synthesis of East and West is possible, but the mentality of the West persists in dictating terms to the East. Therefore, India, I beg of you: please solve this challenge yourself.

‘Friend of India’
11, New Natham Road, Madurai

http://hamsa.org/tradition-ridiculed.htm<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin-->The Right to Die: India’s Democratic Dilemma
by Patrick Harrigan
published in the Los Angeles Daily Journal for the Pacific News Service in May 1988

In India, a recent incident in Rajasthan state of a young widow’s ritual self-immolation upon her husband’s funeral pyre has raised before the public eye burning issues of the individual’s rights in a democratic society. Do democratic governments have the power or the right to legislate thought? Are there no circumstances, for instance, when an adult may select death over life and obtain society’s consent to depart from this world?

Indeed, terminally-ill patients in Holland are granted the right under specified circumstances to opt for a voluntarily-induced death, a practice known as euthanasia. And California is preparing for a statewide public referendum in which euthanasia, popularly called ‘the Right to Die’, is one of the issues left for the voters to decide.

But in present-day India, considered to be the world’s largest democracy, matters are decided differently. The nation’s modern-educated elite, long sensitive to foreign (especially Western) opinion and values, reacted to 18-year old Roop Kanwar’s act of conviction and the subsequent ground swell of public support in Rajasthan on her behalf with their own campaign attacking sati as the age-old option for Hindu widows is called.

To the accompaniment of great political fanfare and harsh rhetoric in the nation’s English press, Indian Parliament with virtually no debate last December passed the Sati (Prevention) Bill. This draconian piece of legislation, openly formulated to stifle dissenting opinion and compel mass obedience, has since been stirring doubts even among the community of women’s rights activists who were the first to clamour for harsher anti-sati measures. Especially frightening to the central government is the spectre the affair has raised of state and village-level resistance to Hew Delhi’s authority to legislate social laws contrary to established religious beliefs at a time when separatist movements in the Punjab and elsewhere are already straining India’s national integrity.

Kanwar, by all accounts a devout Hindu, was by Indian standards well-educated and had been married to Mal Singh only eight months when Mal abruptly took ill and died. Roop Kanwar is reported to have been engaged in her daily prayers at the moment when her husband’s lifeless body was brought before her. With no outward show of sorrow, she completed her prayers before calmly revealing her intention to grieving family members; to unite her soul with that of her husband’s.

Her relatives wished to dissuade her, but she would not listen to them. A number of village elders and religious specialists came to test her. According to Hindu texts seldom is a widow empowered with the truth, or sat, that makes her a sati. Convinced by her inner presence and conviction, they gave their consent with blessings, and withdrew.

That September morning, Roop Kanwar slowly changed into her ‘bridal finery and toured Deorala village for the last time, walking at the head of her own funeral procession. In her hands she held a coconut, symbol of life. For fifteen minutes, she circumambulated the pyre. Said one witness, emoted In an Indian newsmagazine: “We kept telling her that it was getting late and the police might arrive but she signaled us to be patient. Then she climbed on to the pyre and her husband’s head was laid in her lap.”

Awed by Roop Kanwar’s courage and conviction, hundreds of her friends and neighbors paid reverence and stood back as Mal Singh’s 15-year old younger brother stepped forward to light the pyre. According to witnesses, her expression remained serene even as flames were enveloping her. Within hours, it was all over. But the controversy ignited by this heroic and idealistic woman continues to burn, and is unlikely to be soon forgotten.

The incident might have attracted but little attention in India, where sati, although technically illegal, enjoys wide respect among this nation’s half-billion or so Hindus. But urban-based women’s rights groups raised a public outcry and pressed the authorities to take drastic action.

Their concern, a genuine one, had to do with documented abuses in the past when in some instances widows were alleged to have been forced either physically or by social pressure to mount their husband’s funeral pyre. By all accounts, the plight of widows in India is a sorry one, and newly-formed women’s groups have taken the lead in a struggle for justice.

The authorities hesitated for two fateful weeks, by which time nearly a half-million Hindu pilgrims had quietly ‘voted with their feet’ by visiting Deorala village to pay respect to the spirit of Roop Kanvar, who is popularly considered to have attained the station of a goddess. Said one witness quoted in the Indian press; “She was a woman who believed her husband was a god and there could be no life for her without him.” Another, a widow who was present at the sati, reflected thus: “I often wonder why I didn’t go with my husband ten years ago. This is because she had bhakti (the power) and I didn’t. The call comes from God.”

The gulf separating popular belief and modern-educated opinion could scarcely be greater. To grass-root village Hindus, the sati of Roop Kanvar was a further confirmation of scripture. But to the nation’s Western-oriented elite, it appeared as a “ghastly practice” that “brought shame to the entire country”. Allegations circulated in the press that the whole incident was a hoax staged to cover up dark misdoings, with the added incentive of favorable publicity and eventual profits.

To demonstrate that it meant business, the Government rounded up nearly 100 people from Deorala and vicinity, from the boy who lit the pyre to the barber whose ritual task was to shave the heads of male family members in mourning, and put them into jail or juvenile home. Roop Kanwar herself, however, was already beyond the reach of the law.

After a brief, one-sided debate, Indian Parliament on December 15, 1987 passed the Sati (Prevention) Bill, which mandates:

one to five years imprisonment for any woman who attempts sati;
the death penalty or life imprisonment for “abetment of Sati”;
one to seven years imprisonment for “glorification of Sati”; and
suspension of civic rights of anyone convicted of “abetting or glorifying Sati”, i.e. disqualification from holding any public office.
Most disturbing of all, the bill contains a “special provision” so that the burden of proof is shifted from the accusers to the person accused.

In other words, those people who are merely accused under the new bill will be considered guilty until they can successfully prove themselves innocent.

The authorities here have had to drop charges and release all those held in association with Roop Kanwar’s Ball, since it was observed by India’s Supreme Court that they had been held under laws that had been passed only after the incident occurred. Perhaps there is yet hope for truly democratic institutions in India. But few are daring to speak out.

Trust in majority rule is the foundation-stone of democracy. It is precisely for such democratic ideals that millions of young people the world over, including women, have willingly laid down their lives, all to the great respect of the societies that they died defending. We Americans of the post-Vietnam era tend to forget this sometimes.

Motivated by an earnest desire to ‘keep up’ with the rest of the world, especially the governments of the elect in the so-called ‘Third World’ often end up throwing out the baby with the bath water in their drive to modernize. In the process, age-old cultural treasures are lost, including the very ideals that gave the society its cultural identity.

In a certain sense, even the highly-educated of India personally view America as a kind of rich and powerful heaven-on-earth, while publicly they scorn her. What things have we done to deserve such esteem?

Perhaps there is something for India to learn from the examples of Holland and California. And perhaps we Americana would do well to learn from Roop Kanwar’s example of living idealism. Our own integrity as a nation, and India’s as veil, could lie in the balance.

http://hamsa.org/law-against-sati.htm<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->
This does raise interesting questions, how far should individual freedom's be allowed, should they include the right to die voluntarily (I know of quite a few sants in India who were said to have attained mahasamadhi, Sant Jnaneshwar is an example).

Also what is the orthodox Hindu opinion on this one (say for example the late Paramacharya of Kanchi)?

I am aware that Hindu widows are under no compulsion to committ sati but we do know that even back in the day the majority of these incidences occured voluntarily, several foreign traveller's confirmed this including one who went to Vijayanagara.

I do not think anyone forced Maharaja Ranjit Singh's wives to committ sati, infact Duleep Singh's mother did not committ sati and outlived Maharaja Ranjit Singh.

Should they be banned just because it is unthinkable to our "progressive" minds that a woman maybe that idealistic?

We know of thousands of Hindu women who committed jauhar to escape Muslim rapists in the medieval times, even during partition there were thousands of women who committed jauhar by jumping into wells or by urging their menfolk to kill them before the Muslim league goons could break through the defenses, the most famous incidence happened at Thoh Khalsa, some info:
<!--QuoteBegin-->QUOTE<!--QuoteEBegin-->The section also includes press reports and other first-hand accounts.  For example, one report which appeared in The Statesman of April 15, 1947 narrates an event that took place in village Thoha Khalsa of Rawalpindi District.  It is a story of tears and shame and also of great sacrifice and heroism.  The story tells us how the Hindu-Sikh population of this tiny village was attacked by 3000-strong armed Muslims, how badly outweaponed and outnumbered, the beseiged had to surrender, but how their women numbering 90 in order to “evade inglorious surrender” and save their honour jumped into a well “following the example of Indian women of by-gone days.” Only three of them were saved.  “There was not enough water in the well to drown them all,” the report adds.

http://voiceofdharma.org/books/mla/intro.htm<!--QuoteEnd--><!--QuoteEEnd-->