For my Master’s research project I will translate and analyze two texts: the Prithvīrajavijaya , composed by Jayanaka approximately in 1191 CE and the Hammiramahkavya composed by Nayachandra Suri in 1496 CE. Both poems chronicle the history of the Chauhan Rajput princes and their battles against the Turko-Persian slave armies between the 12th and 14th centuries. I will use a combination of literary and historical methods of analysis to investigate how the medieval Rajasthani elite perceived these Turko-Persian invaders and by extension how they perceived the categories of “Muslim” and “Islam.” Though several cantos of the Prithvīrajavijaya manuscript have been destroyed, the Hammiramahakavya manuscript is complete and includes many of the same stories as the Prithvirajavijaya. By analyzing the texts together, I will be able to “fill in the gaps” of the Prithvirajavijaya as well as compare and contrast elements of each text to discern whether the opinions regarding the Turko-Persians expressed by the authors were merely their personal views or more enduring opinions held by generations of the public elite.
As Brajadulal Chattopadhyaya argues, until recently scholarship on Muslims and Islam in India has been dominated by Orientalist modes of understanding, which tend toward homogenizing difference into such opposing monolithic categories as indigenous/other, masculine/feminine, and Hindu/Muslim. The goal of my Master’s research project is to identify and remove these problematic orientalist interpretive lenses through which the source materials have been viewed in the past and look at them again from a fresh perspective, with the recognition that my own work is limited by a particular frame of reference, to develop a fuller understanding of how the Rajputs perceived the Turko-Persians. By examining the literary techniques employed by the authors to describe the Turko-Persians I will be able to gain some insight as to how religio-cultural difference was perceived by the Rajput elite. Did they identify the Turko-Persians as “Muslim” and therefore entirely alien as some scholars have presupposed in their work or did they have a more specific or refined method of conveying the perceived differences and similarities between themselves and the Turko-Persians?
My research will contribute directly to a newly developing sub-field in South Asian religion focusing on the dialogue between Sanskrit and Persianate cultures in the medieval period. In the past, Persian literature was used as the primary source material for this particular region and time period in Indian history. My research is unique in that I will be looking at the same historical moment from the perspective of Sanskrit scholars in the royal courts of north India, filling a critical gap in present scholarship in the sub-field. In a larger socio-political sense, this research is deeply relevant today as it examines this initial interaction, what colonialists' and communalists' have identified as the start of the "Muslim" period of Indian history, and in doing so conceivably provide some new findings to challenge the received history as a clash between two monolithic religious groups. By challenging the received history perhaps I will be able to offer a counter-argument to the communalist belief that India is essentially one land peopled by two nations.
My undergraduate degree in the study of religion and history has given me a solid foundation from which I can begin to undertake this project. I have taken several courses in Sanskrit at the undergraduate level and have taken private classes over the course of five months from Dr. Sucheta Paranjpe of the Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, Pune, India. In addition, I have begun learning German and Hindi for the purpose of reading secondary source materials and additional commentaries to the texts that I will be translating. After completing my Master’s I would like to pursue a Ph.D. in the study of religion in South Asia and teach at a Canadian university.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
Van Voorst, Masuzawa, and Smith
In the introduction to Eastern Scripture among the World’s Religions, van Voorst proposes to provide the reader with a “wide range of scripture selections from the religions of Asia with introduction and annotations to set the readings in the context of their actual usage.”[1] He argues that the historical-critical method of examining scriptural texts provides great insight into religions, their philosophies and associated practices. Van Voorst lists many of the advantages of studying scripture, one key benefit being the “comprehensiveness” of these texts: they provide information on all major aspects of the religion.[2] Scriptures, he adds, are also considered to be authoritative: “because they are believed to come from God or the gods…and because they bear witness to an ultimate cosmic reality, the truth contained in the scriptures is recognized and lived out by the believers.”[3] While van Voorst acknowledges that every methodology is limited, including this one for several reasons, he clearly believes that this method is the best among those currently available.
On the surface I agree with van Voorst; the historical-critical method is one of, if not, the best method currently available to approach the study of scripture. By placing a text in its historical context we are able to gain a deeper insight into the text itself, whom it speaks to and any meaning or message it may be conveying. By comparing information gleaned from the text with other findings such as inscriptions, artwork, or contemporary texts, we might be able to learn something regarding the religion at that time. However, I disagree on the point about setting texts in the context of their actual usage. It seems to me an impossible task. How might we even come to know the “context of their usage” when the bulk of our information regarding the use of scripture and its historical context is coming from the text itself? Furthermore, I fail to understand how this might give us a thorough understanding of the state of the religion at the time of the writing of the text or otherwise. Van Voorst does note that the reception of scripture is not uniform across religions but he fails to mention that it is not uniform within a religion nor is its reception within that religion uniform over time.[4] In this way, studying scripture might be the best option in a field of few alternatives but we must be cognizant of the fact that it only provides us with a narrow view into a religion.
At the end of his article van Voorst mentions the importance of the second stage of research, in which scholars must attempt to read scripture “as much as possible as insiders, with the eyes minds, and hearts of those for whom these texts are much more than the object of scholarship.”[5] It would seem here that van Voorst is taking a certain sympathetic attitude towards the study of Asian religions. In her book The Invention of World Religions, Tomoko Masuzawa touches on this more recent trend within the academic community of having a sympathetic attitude towards the religions we study. Masuzawa cites Eric Sharpe’s championing of Frederick Denison Maurice over Charles Hardwick, both scholars of comparative religion, because Maurice took a more sympathetic approach. Maurice attempted to derive some “message” or relevant meaning from the various religions that he studied, whereas Hardwick, the more erudite of the two, used his study of other religions to bolster his opinion that Christianity was the superior world religion. Maurice also concluded that Christianity was indeed superior; however, he did make an effort to portray other religions in a more positive light. Sharpe praised Maurice over Hardwick for his attitude alone, regardless of the fact that Hardwick was a more thorough scholar. Sharpe is not alone in believing that it is important to adopt a sympathetic attitude when studying non-Christian religions, in fact, Masuzawa notes that it is commonly accepted amongst scholars of religion today.
In response to Sharpe’s preference, Masuzawa raises the question: “[I]n the end [is this] a religious judgment? A scientific judgment? Or neither?”[6] She continues, noting that this trend towards sympathy amongst scholars is widely held but does not appear to be predicated on anything.[7] It occurred to me that this tendency towards sympathy in the study of non-Christian religions might be reactionary. Scholars are moving away from the attitude of earlier generations of academics who used comparative religion to fortify their belief that Christianity was the preeminent world religion. Both Smith and Masuzawa demonstrate that the attitudes of academics shape the field that they study. These old colonial attitudes of us vs. them, West vs. East, true religion vs. heathenism, etc. defined the contours of the earlier four-part classification of ‘world religions’. My concern now is how this more recent trend towards sympathy is changing this system of classification and if we as scholars are at all sensitive and critical of these slow, subtle changes.
[1] Van Voorst, p. 3.
[2] Van Voorst, p. 12.
[3] Van Voorst, p. 11.
[4] Van Voorst, p. 13.
[5] Van Voorst, p. 16.
[6] Masuzawa, p. 96.
[7] Masuzawa, p. 97.
On the surface I agree with van Voorst; the historical-critical method is one of, if not, the best method currently available to approach the study of scripture. By placing a text in its historical context we are able to gain a deeper insight into the text itself, whom it speaks to and any meaning or message it may be conveying. By comparing information gleaned from the text with other findings such as inscriptions, artwork, or contemporary texts, we might be able to learn something regarding the religion at that time. However, I disagree on the point about setting texts in the context of their actual usage. It seems to me an impossible task. How might we even come to know the “context of their usage” when the bulk of our information regarding the use of scripture and its historical context is coming from the text itself? Furthermore, I fail to understand how this might give us a thorough understanding of the state of the religion at the time of the writing of the text or otherwise. Van Voorst does note that the reception of scripture is not uniform across religions but he fails to mention that it is not uniform within a religion nor is its reception within that religion uniform over time.[4] In this way, studying scripture might be the best option in a field of few alternatives but we must be cognizant of the fact that it only provides us with a narrow view into a religion.
At the end of his article van Voorst mentions the importance of the second stage of research, in which scholars must attempt to read scripture “as much as possible as insiders, with the eyes minds, and hearts of those for whom these texts are much more than the object of scholarship.”[5] It would seem here that van Voorst is taking a certain sympathetic attitude towards the study of Asian religions. In her book The Invention of World Religions, Tomoko Masuzawa touches on this more recent trend within the academic community of having a sympathetic attitude towards the religions we study. Masuzawa cites Eric Sharpe’s championing of Frederick Denison Maurice over Charles Hardwick, both scholars of comparative religion, because Maurice took a more sympathetic approach. Maurice attempted to derive some “message” or relevant meaning from the various religions that he studied, whereas Hardwick, the more erudite of the two, used his study of other religions to bolster his opinion that Christianity was the superior world religion. Maurice also concluded that Christianity was indeed superior; however, he did make an effort to portray other religions in a more positive light. Sharpe praised Maurice over Hardwick for his attitude alone, regardless of the fact that Hardwick was a more thorough scholar. Sharpe is not alone in believing that it is important to adopt a sympathetic attitude when studying non-Christian religions, in fact, Masuzawa notes that it is commonly accepted amongst scholars of religion today.
In response to Sharpe’s preference, Masuzawa raises the question: “[I]n the end [is this] a religious judgment? A scientific judgment? Or neither?”[6] She continues, noting that this trend towards sympathy amongst scholars is widely held but does not appear to be predicated on anything.[7] It occurred to me that this tendency towards sympathy in the study of non-Christian religions might be reactionary. Scholars are moving away from the attitude of earlier generations of academics who used comparative religion to fortify their belief that Christianity was the preeminent world religion. Both Smith and Masuzawa demonstrate that the attitudes of academics shape the field that they study. These old colonial attitudes of us vs. them, West vs. East, true religion vs. heathenism, etc. defined the contours of the earlier four-part classification of ‘world religions’. My concern now is how this more recent trend towards sympathy is changing this system of classification and if we as scholars are at all sensitive and critical of these slow, subtle changes.
[1] Van Voorst, p. 3.
[2] Van Voorst, p. 12.
[3] Van Voorst, p. 11.
[4] Van Voorst, p. 13.
[5] Van Voorst, p. 16.
[6] Masuzawa, p. 96.
[7] Masuzawa, p. 97.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Bynum, Huntington and the Text-Critical Method
As a medievalist, the bulk of Bynum’s work is based upon a critical engagement with late medieval religious texts. To provide a foundation for her research, she must utilize aspects of the text-critical method. For Bynum, the exercise of translating, dating, and ascribing texts is the starting point from which all other modes of inquiry can begin.[1] In describing the various essays in her collection, she both critiques the classic text-critical methodology and gives us a sense of her own specific hybrid. In contrast to those scholars who believe that by applying the text-critical method they can achieve a near-complete knowledge of the historical moment, Bynum argues that the historian’s task is one that “precludes wholeness.”[2] She argues that despite our best efforts we will never know what the author was trying to say: we can only read the text in context. The task then is to embrace the fragments we do uncover and to highlight recurrent themes present in the texts so that we might gain some small insight into the historical situation.
Beyond forcing us to acknowledge the “partiality” of our findings, Bynum fleshes out her critique of the text-critical method by arguing that we must also recognize our own lack of objectivity. In Holy Feast, Holy Fast she notes that recent scholarship on medieval religion understands the renunciation of sex and money as the basic motif of medieval spirituality. This, she argues, is more indicative of the preoccupations of twentieth century thinkers than of those in the middle ages.[3] Food, she continues, was a far more pressing issue for the people of that time. She proffers the renunciation of food as an important alternative motif. What we can derive from Bynum’s assessment is that we must abandon this false sense of objectivity: we exist in a specific historical moment influenced by certain ideas and trends and so what we find in these texts is what is of significant interest to us. To a certain extent, we find what we are looking for.
To combat this academic ‘tunnel vision’, Bynum suggests a remedy: history in the comic mode. Comedy, she argues, incorporates many stories, reaches a conclusion only by chance, and “undergirds our sense of human limitation, even our cynicism about our motives and self-awareness.”[4] The comic stance allows the historian to be self-conscious, admit to the partiality of their findings and even to their errors. This way the book is left open. Historians are able to return to a text each time discovering new themes and enriching our understanding.
Bynum’s suggested methodological approach insinuates that the text-critical method alone is an inadequate methodology. In “Methodological Considerations,” Huntington also brings to light some of the limitations of the text-critical method. He argues that we think we have gained a full understanding of a certain point in time when we “place ourselves in the historical situation and seek to reconstruct the historical horizon.”[5] However, he continues, the act of locating a moment within its historical context creates a division: it becomes the object of our study, an “other.” This gesture of “alienation,” he argues, prohibits us from the possibility of extracting a truth from the historical situation that is meaningful to us.[6] The result is that our understanding is somewhat lacking. We are preventing ourselves from attaining some important insight that may be relevant to our current experience.
Like Bynum, Huntington also suggests an alternative methodological approach: the modern Buddhist mentality. Huntington argues that to really grasp Madhyamika philosophy and thereby possibly extract a truth applicable to ourselves it helps to read these texts through the lens of the ‘modern Buddhist mentality’. Huntington cites J.W. de Jong who argues that the historical method alone does not provide enough of a context to fully illuminate texts of a spiritual nature. The ‘historical dimension’ within the South Asian context, he continues, plays a lesser role than it does in the West. Furthermore, he argues that by attempting to interpret and understand Madhyamika philosophy as a body of answers to ontological and epistemological questions we have missed the point of the philosophy itself. [7] Concepts such as ‘emptiness’ cannot be understood through these methods alone: the very language and goals of the text-critical method prevents a full grasping of Madhyamika philosophy. For Huntington the “Buddhist mentality” as a critical lens through which to approach these texts allows the academic to understand the heart of the philosophy, making it an indispensable addition to the text-critical method.
Having been taught the text-critical method from very early on in my undergraduate career, I appreciate it for the benefits it offers. Yet like Bynum and Huntington I am also looking for something more, some additional tool or perspective that can help me gain fresh insight into the texts that I am translating. I value beyond a doubt the skills that I have acquired learning the text-critical method and I recognize that it would be impossible for me to conduct my research without them, but I see this method as a starting point, a foundation from which to build on. Which methodological approach comes next, I have yet to decide. One thing has been made clear though, as both Bynum and Huntington have addressed, is that it is vitally important as I begin work that I remain conscious of my complicity in the flow of history.
[1] Bynum, “In Praise of…,” p. 15.
[2] Bynum, “In Praise of…,” p. 14.
[3] Bynum, “Holy Feast,” p. 1.
[4] Bynum, “In Praise of…,” p. 24.
[5] Huntington, p. 13.
[6] Ibid. Bynum disagrees with the idea of looking back to historical texts to find answers to modern day questions. Why?
[7] Huntington, p. 15.
Beyond forcing us to acknowledge the “partiality” of our findings, Bynum fleshes out her critique of the text-critical method by arguing that we must also recognize our own lack of objectivity. In Holy Feast, Holy Fast she notes that recent scholarship on medieval religion understands the renunciation of sex and money as the basic motif of medieval spirituality. This, she argues, is more indicative of the preoccupations of twentieth century thinkers than of those in the middle ages.[3] Food, she continues, was a far more pressing issue for the people of that time. She proffers the renunciation of food as an important alternative motif. What we can derive from Bynum’s assessment is that we must abandon this false sense of objectivity: we exist in a specific historical moment influenced by certain ideas and trends and so what we find in these texts is what is of significant interest to us. To a certain extent, we find what we are looking for.
To combat this academic ‘tunnel vision’, Bynum suggests a remedy: history in the comic mode. Comedy, she argues, incorporates many stories, reaches a conclusion only by chance, and “undergirds our sense of human limitation, even our cynicism about our motives and self-awareness.”[4] The comic stance allows the historian to be self-conscious, admit to the partiality of their findings and even to their errors. This way the book is left open. Historians are able to return to a text each time discovering new themes and enriching our understanding.
Bynum’s suggested methodological approach insinuates that the text-critical method alone is an inadequate methodology. In “Methodological Considerations,” Huntington also brings to light some of the limitations of the text-critical method. He argues that we think we have gained a full understanding of a certain point in time when we “place ourselves in the historical situation and seek to reconstruct the historical horizon.”[5] However, he continues, the act of locating a moment within its historical context creates a division: it becomes the object of our study, an “other.” This gesture of “alienation,” he argues, prohibits us from the possibility of extracting a truth from the historical situation that is meaningful to us.[6] The result is that our understanding is somewhat lacking. We are preventing ourselves from attaining some important insight that may be relevant to our current experience.
Like Bynum, Huntington also suggests an alternative methodological approach: the modern Buddhist mentality. Huntington argues that to really grasp Madhyamika philosophy and thereby possibly extract a truth applicable to ourselves it helps to read these texts through the lens of the ‘modern Buddhist mentality’. Huntington cites J.W. de Jong who argues that the historical method alone does not provide enough of a context to fully illuminate texts of a spiritual nature. The ‘historical dimension’ within the South Asian context, he continues, plays a lesser role than it does in the West. Furthermore, he argues that by attempting to interpret and understand Madhyamika philosophy as a body of answers to ontological and epistemological questions we have missed the point of the philosophy itself. [7] Concepts such as ‘emptiness’ cannot be understood through these methods alone: the very language and goals of the text-critical method prevents a full grasping of Madhyamika philosophy. For Huntington the “Buddhist mentality” as a critical lens through which to approach these texts allows the academic to understand the heart of the philosophy, making it an indispensable addition to the text-critical method.
Having been taught the text-critical method from very early on in my undergraduate career, I appreciate it for the benefits it offers. Yet like Bynum and Huntington I am also looking for something more, some additional tool or perspective that can help me gain fresh insight into the texts that I am translating. I value beyond a doubt the skills that I have acquired learning the text-critical method and I recognize that it would be impossible for me to conduct my research without them, but I see this method as a starting point, a foundation from which to build on. Which methodological approach comes next, I have yet to decide. One thing has been made clear though, as both Bynum and Huntington have addressed, is that it is vitally important as I begin work that I remain conscious of my complicity in the flow of history.
[1] Bynum, “In Praise of…,” p. 15.
[2] Bynum, “In Praise of…,” p. 14.
[3] Bynum, “Holy Feast,” p. 1.
[4] Bynum, “In Praise of…,” p. 24.
[5] Huntington, p. 13.
[6] Ibid. Bynum disagrees with the idea of looking back to historical texts to find answers to modern day questions. Why?
[7] Huntington, p. 15.
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