The Last Word of Socrates

"The unexamined life is not worth living..."

Supposedly first said by Socrates, as found in Apology 38a, it articulates the fundamental and first instinct of every self-respecting philosopher. Curiously however, Socrates adds to the proposition by exclaiming that the listener may not be prepared to accept it at all. But why not?

Here one can identify 'lower' and 'higher' reasons to support the famous statement. The first happens to be that one simply cannot function adequately in daily, 'worldly' life if one ignores what is occuring or clinging to a particular explanation without inquiry and criticism. Since this statement of Socrates' might as well be philosophy's most famous advertising slogan, a word about what philosophy is. The 'core' comprises the branches of metaphysics, epistemology and ethics. Apart from being a study of intellectual history, it has occupied itself with 'unsolvable' problems and spawning new disciplines once it gets a decent handle on the specifics.

In other words, the three big questions that philosophers ask are: what is there? what to do? how do we know? Now it is instructive to note that one can't even buy the day's vegetables if one goes one's way trying not to examine and inquire, to say nothing of leading the life of the 'wealth-obsessed laity' that is supposed to abhor philosophy and other such 'impracticalities'. Of course, you shouldn't just take my word here, but the catch is that you'll need a bit of inquiry in the first place to begin to realise the fruitfulness of inquiry. But whether you come to see it today, next year or never at all, philosophy is as practical as it gets.

The second and holier-than-thou reason is that the life without serious intellectual pursuits is not worth living in itself -- it is intrinsically bad. Assuming that animals cannot do much philosophising as we seem to be able to do, it comes to be that philosophy is a humanising pursuit, an ennobling practice that uplifts our spirits, nourishes the soul etc. You get the drift. But let's just say that if you've already tasted the roughness of life, you will be led to philosophical thinking more by the necessity of escaping dukkha than to have a childlike delight of puzzles or to be in the more respectable 'disinterested pursuit of Truth'.

So one may paraphrase and say that to go on with life without inquiry is simply not worth the trouble. And no, before you think of suicide, remember that you might just be reborn -- no free rides I'm afraid. Besides, if God turns out to be as queer as theology likes Him to be, and if in the first place He exists, it will surely not be pleasant to belong to the wrong faith. So, start asking questions. Listen to what everyone is saying. And don't be in a hurry to reach an answer. There might not be one.

Hindu Revisions of History

Thakur Prasad Verma and Arvind Kumar Singh's 2011 Inscriptions of the Gāhaḍavālas and their times (published by Aryan Books International, New Delhi) is interesting for at least three reasons.

First, it is an instance of the post-colonial Hindu consciousness, often pejoratively called the 'Hindutva ideology', of a radical disruption of their tradition having taken place. For some, various common aspects of the streams of Hindu tradition -- the caste system, elaborate ritualism, sense of 'religious tolerance', Bhakti orientation, inward-looking outward-bound asceticism etc. -- are factors that prevented complete annihilation (as in Iran or Greece), while for others, these were causes for failure. But despite admission of such shortcomings (the turning away from vaiśeṣika and allied aparāvidyā streams is increasingly being regretted), the Islamic project of Jihad is largely held accountable for this destruction.

Although this new consciousness embraces historical analysis, it is still prone to conflate the various streams of the tradition, and sometimes to even brand Advaita Vedanta as The True, Original, Secret Message of the Vedas. Staal recounts one such amusing instance in his Agni (v. II, p. 469) of lay Hindus having come to attend the yajña as if it were a pūjā; they proceed to the darśan, to do a pradakṣiṇā and then to feeling refreshed with the newly acquired puṇya.

Not only do the authors (Verma was a professor at Banaras Hindu University, Singh taught at Jiwaji, Gwalior; see publisher's page) not make any secret of their sympathy for Hindu sources of history (p. v-vi) while also being grateful for the contributions of Western scholars, they also often criticise Muslim kings who were "proud of ruining and devastating cultures, looting and arson, reducing art treasures and places of worship into ruins" (p. 362). That the yavana, śaka and hūṇa chiefs were "admirers [...] and adherents of Indian religion and society" (p. 361) only goes to confirm for them that it was the Muslims, many of them even "ethnically related to the Hindu folk", uniquely responsible for the damage caused. As an example, they point out the Taj ul-Ma'athir (composed after the defeat of Jayachchandra) which attests to vandalism at the hands of Muslim rulers.

However, the second feature is a frankness that can sometimes be hard to find in mainstream (i.e. Western) Indological publications. For instance, although it becomes clear that both authors are striving to develop a (pro-)Hindu narrative, Verma is reasonably cautious (in chapter 2, concerning political history) and upfront honest about the differing standards as far as interpretation of evidence is concerned. Now there continue to be attempts to trivialise first-hand Muslim testimony itself (typically sanctioned by kings as felicitation on occasions of Islamic victory) and use non sequitors to give the impression that destruction prompted by Islamic ideology was led by mere political instinct (see Tehelka's recent interview of Richard Eaton, for instance).

But it becomes a serious matter when this version of history receives state sanction (Arun Shourie's exposés), as Verma is keen to point out on multiple occasions. Usefully, he also counters Roma Niyogi's excesses in interpretation and builds on the earlier scholarship of RC Majumdar, RS Tripathi and SR Goyal. However, their otherwise reasonable attitude (seen, for instance, in their evaluation of the political implications of land grants to Brahmins) is marred by their rejection of the Aryan Invasion Theory and an ambiguous setting aside of comparative philology.

Thirdly, their work's relative recency is striking because it shows that Hindu scholars have not yet atoned for the mahāpātaka of having rejected Indo-European Studies. Not only should this failure already be profoundly embarrassing for Hindus, but they do not make a serious effort to defend, let alone develop, even the 'classical' system. Are readers to simply nod in pious agreement when Verma asserts that "the Hindu society was laid down on a sound foundation of varṇa and āśrama" (p. 392)? He then brings up the usual fluid-first-rigid-later argument for occupational segregation by caste. Citing a Dharampal or even a GS Ghurye when it comes to defending caste-based hierarchies is not productive.

It may not now be surprising that Verma and Singh's work here, its merits notwithstanding, has not even yet been reviewed in any major journal.