Nirad Babu's Ghost

Not many thought much of Nirad C. Chaudhuri. In a nation given to lavishing praise on her intellectual stalwarts, a significant portion of the Indian intelligentsia thought of him as an eccentric leftover from the days of colonial rule; a man who, in the sweltering heat of a Delhi public bus in summer, refused to part with his collar and tie. He published his first book, 'An Autobiography of an Unknown Indian', around the age of fifty. A keen sense of foresight (and the dedicatory page of the book itself) might have told him that he would not remain unknown much longer. But his fame was a deeply bittersweet one. On the one hand, it allowed him a platform to interact with the leading intellectuals of his time and on the other, it guaranteed him widespread hostility and ridicule.

It is rather difficult to judge the effect of his strongly held opinions today. The degree of nativism Mr. Chaudhuri encountered at the onset of his writing career has seen a gradual decline as the Indian economy along the Indian mind opened up. Decidedly anti-populist, his views on the state of Indian nationhood created a whole spectrum of responses, ranging from the antagonistic to the adoring. But what is indisputable is that Nirad C. Chaudhuri was a man of monumental learning. His discourse could effortlessly vacillate between, say, the role of the Kama sutra in the Indian psyche to the merits of a Chateau d'Yquem. And it was precisely this: the sheer magnitude of his learning, which his detractors failed to appreciate. Moreover, if one considers the circumstances in which he carried out this process, the whole act becomes even more remarkable. Scholarship wasn’t a means for him to sustain his livelihood. Nor was he a member of the small coterie of anglicized Indians during British rule that had the privilege of an Oxbridge education. He was simply a government official!

No, his was erudition of the noblest kind: knowledge of a purely unselfish nature, intended to enlighten his soul. And the desire to attain that specific type of learning has almost entirely vanished from India. Academic pursuits (in a formal academic institution or in private) have taken on a highly specialized, market driven form. Students following the dictates of the global economic environment, choose careers based on employability. A case in point is the recent ascension of Information Technology as the career of choice for the vast majority of Indian youths.

That is not to say that the young men and women of India should abandon their engineering and management courses and devote themselves to the study of Vedic History. As a country in the throes of upward economic mobility, the natural incentive for people would be to study those subjects which permit them to sustain or improve their standard of living. Yet, a complete ignorance of the more human subjects (History, Politics, Philosophy …) can have some drastic effects on the Indian social landscape. As identities become constricted along strict religious lines and political groups misappropriate religious ideologies for devious ends, such study is not only crucial in understanding our shared humanity but it also empowers us to debate parochial world-views.

And if there is one essential feature of Nirad C. Chaudhuri's life which all Indians should learn to emulate, it is the spirit of debate. For instance, modern day feminists would fume at Mr. Chaudhuri's assessment of the state of gender relations in India as laid out in 'A Passage to England': "If anybody tells you that the Hindu ideal of wifely devotion is an imposition by a patriarchal society, a tyranny prompted by male jealousy, do not believe a word of it. It is simply not true. With us, paradoxical as it may sound, it was the women who stole the wind out of the sails of the men. They set up an ideal of faithfulness which not only made the noose and the sack unnecessary, but even the worth of the man of no consequence." One has to admit that Nirad Babu had a penchant for propagating reckless arguments. He might or might not have offered great insights into the workings of the Indian mind, but he did not mind defending them using his rather sizeable reading list as a weapon.

And in that role, he was following a venerated lineage. He was, to use the purely Socratic sense of the term, one of the great Indian gadflies. The leading gadfly in human history spent his life trying to convince people that acknowledging the lack of wisdom is far more important than wisdom itself. Facing the grim result of his trial, he beseeched his supporters to instill a deep sense of virtue in his sons (… "if they think themselves to be something when they are nothing, reproach them as I have done you.")[1] A less dramatic conclusion to Nirad C. Chaudhuri’s long life should not detract from the fact that the two men were similar in this regard. Maybe now, in this final kernel of truth, Nirad Babu’s ghost can receive some well-deserved respite.