RAHUL GANDHI’S MAIDEN SPEECH in Parliament as leader of the Opposition is in many senses a logical—if not warped— fruition of a Congress that was monopolised by his ancestor Jawaharlal Nehru. The term ‘ancestor’ in the present era, characterised by cultural rootlessness and vanishing families, sounds archaic, ancient, even. On the other hand, the term ‘great grandfather’ sounds relatable in his context. How many average Indians today can recall the names of their own great grandparents?
The verifiable consequences for India and Indians of this dynasty’s decadal political monopoly reminds us—if we are truly honest—of Thucydides’ immortal wisdom: A nation that confounds its scholars with its warriors will have its laws made by cowards and its wars fought by fools.
A few fundamental questions arise in the present and recent historical context.
Since he formally entered politics two decades ago, Rahul Gandhi has never wielded power in the real sense. And in the same real sense, he was and remains just a Member of Parliament. The source of the power that he enjoyed during the two-term United Progressive Alliance (UPA) government is no secret: it emanated from his hereditary surname and not by virtue of his election-winning prowess or his demonstrated administrative acumen. And despite Congress being out of office for more than a decade, a legacy narrative continues to posit him and Prime Minister Narendra Modi as equals. This narrative shields his incompetence and apologises for his failures. It has always been so. Indeed, Rahul’s grand aunt, Nayantara Sahgal had minced no words when she wrote in the January 1984 issue of Seminar about his schoolboy days: “The myth-making machine in support of dynasty was set in motion in 1969, but the process has been intensified and accelerated… A cushion of privilege supports and surrounds Rajiv Gandhi’s son, Rahul, at the Doon School. He can take a jaunt to America in the middle of term with his parents and grandmother, and there are security arrangements at school for his protection (against whom?). His sister, Priyanka, is likely to be admitted to boarding school without passing the entrance examination…
“[T]he mystery of the personality that clings to power, even unto the next generation, may be as simple as holding on to what one has got, much as the monkey hangs on to his peanuts though he dances on the rising heat of the laboratory floor. And monkeys clutching peanuts must be what some of history’s rulers will look like when viewed by people of a more advanced era.” [Emphases added]
A blunter and a more accurate assessment is hard to find. And so, an out-of-power Rahul Gandhi is trying to perpetuate this same legacy, now shouldered by his ancestral ecosystem.
Congress’ current Lok Sabha tally of 99 seats should count as a windfall compared to its numbers in 2014 and 2019. Among other things, this seems to have infused fresh blood into an ancient Congress template: of projecting a rout as triumph. And if Congress is adept at something, it is perception-projection.
In a sense, Rahul Gandhi’s maiden speech is part of this projection game. Nothing else explains why he chose to wax eloquent on the Hindu community, branding it as violent. And why he also chose to subject Parliament to his discursive expertise in Hindu Dharma and Bhagavan Shiva of all things.
I never thought I’d live to see a day when this sacred Bharatabhoomi would be subjected to lessons in Sanatana Dharma by RahulGandhi. Andthisscene, enactedinthesameParliamentwhich had witnessed enlightened and profound expositions for years by stalwarts like Rajagopalachari, PV Kane, KM Munshi, HV Kamath, Radhakrishnan, et al on the Bhagavad Gita, Vedanta, and the Dharmasastras.
At this distance in time, all this sounds like fiction.
Is it the same Parliament?
Apart from PV Kane, every person named above were Congressmen, a term that has justifiably, deservedly fallen into disuse.
THE JOURNEY FROM that Parliament to what it eventually became is the surest proof of the fact that Hindu Dharma has no place in the Parliament of the very nation and civilisational culture which it birthed and nurtured and nourished. The evocative painting of Sri Ramachandra that adorns and gives genuine meaning to the Constitution was, long ago, consumed by secularism, a synonym for Nehruvian cult-building. It was a consumption (a forgotten synonym of tuberculosis) foreseen by scores of the members of the Constituent Assembly. One of its more eloquent, powerful, forgotten and uncelebrated voices was Lokanath Mishra.
One can go on about the boundless dimensions of Shiva-tattva. But Rahul Gandhi reduced such profundity to a farce in Parliament to score debating points against BJP
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This is what he said in his speech about secularism on the floor on Monday, December 6, 1948: “Sir, it has been repeated to our ears that ours is a secular State. I accepted this secularism in the sense that our State shall remain unconcerned with religion, and I thought that the secular State of partitioned India was the maximum of generosity of a Hindu dominated territory for its non-Hindu population. Gradually it seems to me that our ‘secular State’ is a slippery phrase, a device to by-pass the ancient culture of the land. The absurdity of this position is now manifest in articles 19 to 22 of the Draft Constitution. Do we really believe that religion can be divorced from life, or is it our belief that in the midst of many religions we cannot decide which one to accept? If religion is beyond the ken of our State, let us clearly say so and delete all reference to rights relating to religion. If we find it necessary, let us be brave enough and say what it should be…
“[T]his unjust generosity of tabooing religion and yet making propagation of religion a fundamental right is somewhat uncanny and dangerous. Justice demands that the ancient faith and culture of the land should be given a fair deal, if not restored to its legitimate place after a thousand years of suppression…
“Hinduism did not accept barricades for its protection. Hinduism is just an integrated vision and a philosophy of life and cosmos, expressed in organised society to live that philosophy in peace and amity. But Hindu generosity has been misused and politics has overrun Hindu culture. Today religion in India serves no higher purpose than collecting ignorance, poverty and ambition under a banner that flies for fanaticism…
“To my mind, Vedic culture excludes nothing. In the present context what can this word ‘propagation’ in article 19 mean? It can only mean paving the way for the complete annihilation of Hindu culture, the Hindu way of life and manners.” [Emphases added]
Rahul Gandhi’s parliamentary speech is an eerie, practical reality that stalwarts like Lokanath Mishra had foreseen back in 1948. The most outrageous element in Rahul’s speech was his flagrant mockery of Bhagavan Shiva.
Shiva-Tattva is one of the most profound philosophical meditations to ever emerge from the soul of the genius of Bharatavarsha. It is an unparalleled Darshanic realisation whose outward form is Shiva. From it flows the rest.
The Shiva Parivara (family) shows cosmic unity like nothing else does. The serpent around his neck is the food of the peacock, the vehicle of Shiva’s son, Subrahmanya. The food of the serpent is the mouse, the vehicle of Shiva’s other son, Ganesha. Mother Ganga, who is locked inside the matted hair of Shiva originates in Himalaya who is Shiva’s father-in-law. The same Himalaya atop whose peak is Shiva’s home, Kailasa. In that sense, Shiva is the Jamaai-Raja par excellence.
A breathtaking verse describes the profound essence of Shiva Parivara using sarcastic humour in an unparalleled fashion:
attum vamchati vahanam ganapaterakhum ksudhartah phani/ tam ca kraumcapateh sikhi ca girijasimhospi nagananam/ gauri jahnusutamasuyati kalanatham kapalanalah/ nirvinnah sa papau kutumbakalahadiso’ pi halahalam (The hungry serpent on Shiva’s body wants to eat Ganesha’s rat. Skanda’s mount peacock wants to eat the serpent, and Parvati’s vehicle, the lion, also wants the serpent’s head. Parvati is jealous of Ganga, residing on Shiva’s head. The fire in his Third eye on his forehead is jealous of the moon on Shiva’s head. Tired of these family feuds, Shiva, in order to end his life, consumed the Halahala/ poison.)
What the verse brilliantly conceals is the fact that both halahala and the moon emerged during the Amrita Manthana (churning of the Ocean of Ambrosia). Indeed, this world-destroying poison was the first to emerge from the churning. The same halahala that is permanently lodged in Shiva’s throat. The ambrosia came in the end.
Shiva’s other abode is the Smashaana, the cemetery where dead humans are burned and buried and merge with him.
The three tips of Shiva’s Trishula—the trident, symbolise the three states of Consciousness— jagrat (waking), swapna (dream or sleep) and sushupti (dreamless sleep). And as the deity who wields it, Shiva transcends these states.
One can go on and on about the boundless dimensions of Shiva-Tattva but this should suffice.
Rahul Gandhi’s speech in Parliament is an eerie, practical reality that stalwarts like Lokanath Mishra had foreseen back in 1948. The most outrageous element in Rahul’s speech was his flagrant mockery of Bhagavan Shiva
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Watching Rahul Gandhi reduce such profundity to a farce in Parliament to score debating points against the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) is a coarsening of a different magnitude.
Listening to him equating Bhagavan Shiva’s Abhaya Mudra to Congress’ election symbol strikes us dumb. No feeling of outrage is enough.
In the end, one is left wondering why Rahul Gandhi didn’t take similar liberties in Parliament by expounding on the glories of the virgin birth of the son of a God who was born in the Middle East. Or with a Prophet of another God who was born in the same region.
Postscript
Purely within the confines of politics, Rahul Gandhi’s speech is akin to the homecoming of the original Gandhi: Mohandas. The civilisational damage inflicted by Nehru’s secularism has its roots in the cult of Gandhi’s Sarvadharma-Samabhaava.
We can judge it by its practical consequences.
What do we observe when we look at all the countries that were carved out of undivided Bharatavarsha by the British?
Burma became a military dictatorship, cut off from its original Sanatana roots. Although it took several decades, Nepal was finally de-Hinduised by a communist alumnus of Jawaharlal Nehru University who bears a Hindu name.
Pakistan and Bangladesh are unambiguous about their Islamic identity.
It is only the remnant of Bharatavarsha that still remains squeamish—even apologetic—about its Sanatana foundational roots. Which is perhaps why the leader of its weakest opposition party finds it so easy to put the ruling party on the defensive.
Sandeep Balakrishna is founder and chief editor of The Dharma Dispatch. He is the author of, among other titles, Tipu Sultan: the Tyrant of Mysore and Invaders and Infidels: From Sindh to Delhi: The 500-Year Journey of Islamic Invasions. He has also translated SL Bhyrappa’s Aavarana from Kannada to English
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