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print versionDespotism of earlier rulers cannot be judged through the lens of liberal democracy simply because the concept of democracy itself was created centuries later. It is essential, instead, to nurture a historical sensibility in students so they can think critically
Written by Anshu Saluja
April 26, 2023
The present string of deletions in history textbooks under the National Council of Educational Research and Training (NCERT) has sparked much debate and discussion. These deletions are in line with the ongoing attack on much of the existing historical scholarship in the country. A volley of abuses and accusations have been hurled at historians for intentionally misrepresenting and distorting India’s history. Simultaneously, insistent calls have been issued to counter their alleged inaccuracies with “real facts”. In view of this mounted attack, it becomes useful to examine the logic that underpins the present deletions in the NCERT’s history textbooks, ostensibly effected in the name of reducing the workload of students.
I specifically discuss the scrapping of sections pertaining to Mughal rulers and the large empire carved out by them in the Indian subcontinent in the 16th and 17th centuries. What motivated these deletions and why were they carried out? Two sets of reasons seem to emerge: 1) An evident desire to malign and demonise Muslims; 2) a limited understanding of the foundational principles and roles of history as a discipline.
First, in the Hindu nationalist scheme of things, Muslims are not to be regarded or recognised as builders of the Indian nation. They are to be viewed as violent aggressors and disruptors. So the place of a Muslim dynasty, like the Mughals, in India’s past and their contributions — whether in furthering the evolution of a rich composite literary tradition, growth of administrative institutions or architectural progress — are to be readily denounced.
Of course, like any other historical phase, the Mughal period too left behind a mixed legacy. While it is not easy to efface its significance and enduring symbolic appeal (the Prime Minister’s address to the nation, delivered every year on Independence Day from the Red Fort in Delhi is a prime example), a discussion of this period can certainly be given short-shrift in school textbooks.
Secondly, the teaching and learning of history also seem at present to be hamstrung by a narrow and limited understanding of how the discipline works. History is not merely an account of kings, queens, royals and nobles. It goes much beyond that and involves a deeper study of larger systems, structures and conditions of life. Many of these have either given way or lost relevance with time, while others have endured to this day, albeit with changes. These changes might be slight or significant, facile or fundamental. History helps us in unpacking their nature, extent and impact. It further lends us tools to decipher how different cultures, traditions and institutions have evolved from the past to the present.
The present is stitched on to the past and owes much to it. The two are interrelated and interdependent, yet they diverge in profound ways. What underlies these divergences between the past and the present are their widely differing contexts. For a fuller appreciation of the legacy of a historical figure, event or movement, we have to pay close attention to their framing context. We have not only to grasp the immediate context of their emergence and evolution (the past), but also that of their continued relevance (the present and possibly the future). Devoid of this larger understanding, our engagements with history and its fraught links to the present remain, at best, superficial and wanting.
For instance, we cannot meaningfully analyse the policies and dictates of rulers from India’s past merely through the present lens of liberal democracy. How despotic or democratic they were cannot be a suitable weighing scale to judge their rule. It will be foolish to do so, for the simple reason that democracy as we know it today, did not exist when these rulers reigned. The framework of liberal democracy developed much later, only over the past few centuries.
Being attentive to the contemporary contexts of historical personalities and developments does not, of course, mean that we turn a blind eye to or accept the past’s brute injustices as legitimate, whether it be the ruthless tradition of witch-burning, centuries of colonial exploitation, dehumanising caste, class, racial discrimination, or any other. Many of these injustices continue to inflect our present realities and existence. They have had varying costs and implications for different groups — the victor and the vanquished, the perpetrator and the victim, the oppressor and the oppressed. So, do we suspend an examination of such aspects of the past altogether? The answer is an emphatic no. We need to engage with them objectively and comprehensively. In fact, how we script this engagement becomes telling and is reflective of our historical sensibility.
For example, in history classrooms in schools and colleges across the country, we inform students about the exploitative nature of British colonialism, but while doing this, we do not necessarily preach everlasting hatred for the British in general. Similarly, we engage with different facets of India’s multilayered ancient past and do not summarily denounce it as an irreprehensible period that gave rise to cruel caste/varna-based hierarchies and distinctions. Then, why are such nuance and perceptivity often missing, while dealing with India’s medieval history? Why is it usually short-changed and dismissed as little more than a string of battles between two seemingly opposing collectivities, religions and civilisations? Further, why are the actions and policies of particular historical figures, such as Aurangzeb and Mahmud of Ghazni, selectively deployed for reviling Muslims as a whole, in the past as well as the present?
Encouraging these limited and anachronistic understandings of history cannot take us very far. This can translate into political gains for some, but as far as learning and pedagogy are concerned, this can only be detrimental — producing ill-informed, prejudiced and communalised citizens. It is essential to nurture a historical sensibility in our students so that they are able to think critically, interrogate their own lifeworlds, ask meaningful questions of the past, and make better sense of their present and even future.
Today, history is being increasingly mobilised as a tool for turning people and communities against each other for a seemingly never-ending trail of past wrongs. Can we prevent this weaponisation of history? Can we read and reflect on it together, acknowledge it, and simultaneously suspend our compulsive need to seek revenge in the present for what happened in the past? Can this be the way forward to engage collectively and creatively with our competing and often sharply divergent histories?
The writer is a historian and teaches at Azim Premji University
[The above article from The Indian Express is reproduced here for educational and non-commercial use]
