We tell stories because we want to influence the world around us. We want to tell them who is good and who is bad, who is the hero, villain, and victim, who is the martyr and traitor.
Credit: PTI image for representation.
When historians tell a story, they base the narrative on factual details. However, the way they privilege some facts over others, or interpret facts reveals their bias. Bias is minimised through a peer-review. But if every peer had a similar political agenda, it is quite likely history would favour a point of view. That is why history is not a pure science, like physics, chemistry, or biology.
A lot of history depends on consensus and institutional approval. No nation-state, for example, will present a history that shows it in a negative light. So national history effectively becomes propaganda. Pakistan’s history textbooks will be very different from India’s history textbooks, and both will claim to be objective.
When non-historians, especially politicians, tell a story, they do not care for facts; they only focus on an agenda. Like lawyers, their purpose is to mobilise public opinion, facts notwithstanding. That is the fundamental difference between storytelling by a historian, and a non-historian.
Ancient trend
Nowadays we simply assume that the popular story of the life of the Buddha is history. Much of these were orally transmitted before they transformed into grand Sanskrit epics such as Buddhacharita and Sundarananda in the second century CE. They spoke of how Buddha found wisdom after he tore himself away from the snare of household life, and how he later motivated his cousin to do the same.
In both epics, women are shown as temptations, vile sensual beings, and something to be shunned. But, while Buddhist epics glamorised the hermit’s life, Hindu epics glamorised the householder’s life. Ramayana and Mahabharata nostalgically recollect nobler times, when the Vedic way was respected, when kings did not abandon royal duties as the Buddha did, but performed their roles as the guardian of sages and women and children.
Seen thus, we wonder how much of the ancient histories are retellings of actual events, and how much of it is agenda-driven historical fiction, or simply a myth designed to project a worldview.
Shankaracharya lived in the eighth century. But his biographies appeared after the 14th century. He lived before the Turks entered India; but his tales are narrated after the Turks conquered North India, and made their way to the Deccan. Does historical context shape the story being told? Is Shankara’s tale meant to inspire Hindus to reassert Hinduism’s domination?
We are told repeatedly that Shankara ‘defeated’ Buddhists; but the major debate recounted is with Vedic ritualists, such as Mandana Mishra, who value the householder's life while he is making a case for the monastic life. He almost seems to be propagating the Buddhist way. Is that why his rivals called him a crypto-Buddhist?
Across India, Shankaracharya is linked with pilgrim routes and temples. But these stories seem to be later legends, as Shankaracharya’s philosophy is far more intellectual than temple-based. His God was formless, not embodied in stone or metal. How does one account for the dissonance between his philosophy and his history?
Nationalistic narratives
In the 19th century, many Indian authors wrote historical novels to evoke a sense of romance with the nation’s past. In Odisha, Radhanath Ray wrote a romance of how Nandini, the princess of the Kesari clan offered to help ChodaGanga-deva conquer Utkala (ancient Odisha) by giving him her father’s magic jewel that made his kingdom invincible. This was based on the Greek myth of Scylla, daughter of Nisus, who gave her father’s lock of purple hair that made him invincible, to Minos, her father’s rival, a man she loved. Many today assume this historical fiction is actual history.
Likewise, mediaeval romances of Purushottam Dev, the 15th century king of Puri, and his marriage to Padmavathi of Kanchi are assumed to be historical events, because they are part of temple lore.
Shortly after India’s Independence, when C Rajagopalachari wrote the Ramayana and the Mahabharata, for the next generation, he was very strongly influenced by his own Gandhian ideals. Therefore, he edited out the erotic, non-Gandhian aspects of the epic and the sexual complexities that exist within it. When Jawaharlal Nehru wrote The Discovery of India, he was dealing with a population where religious conflict was tearing the country apart. Thus, even Shyam Benegal's Bharat Ek Khoj (televised version of The Discovery of India) does not amplify the Hindu-Muslim conflicts too much.
In the 1970s, Anant Pai started the Amar Chitra Katha as he wanted children to be familiar with the myths, legends, and histories of India. So, he was motivated to start the comic book series. But as we go through the comic book series, we realise the line between fact and fiction blur, and mythology telescopes into legend and history. Artwork betrays prejudices. For example, the way the men and women are dressed, and the way the Rajputs and the Turks are portrayed. Why are devas always fair? Why do danavas have horns? Are they perpetuating stereotypes, or working with archetypes?
We tell stories because we want to influence the world around us. We want to tell them who is good and who is bad, who is the hero, villain, and victim, who is the martyr and traitor. So, nowadays, WhatsApp groups are flooded with stories about Mahatma Gandhi, Nehru, and V D Savarkar. These are spread by different political groups trying to position one as the victim, one as the villain, and one as the hero.
Storytelling, historical or otherwise, remains a very complex process. When we read what we believe to be history, we must ask ourselves how much of the information is factual, how much is fantasy, how much is confirmation bias, and why the narration makes us feel in a particular way. We need to question the intention of the author if we wish to avoid feeling manipulated. Unless we want to be manipulated.
(Devdutt Pattanaik is the author of more than 50 books on mythology)
Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.