Indian Katabatics: The German "Indologists"

One would think that a group of erudite scholars on Hinduism would understand that a religion that refuses to adapt to society will eventually stifle itself out of existence. One would also think that a similar group of people could appreciate a revival of the ancient traditions that they have dedicated their lives to studying.

Apparently not the case.

I had the opportunity to take a (self-proclaimed) group of "scholars of Indian studies" on a visit of Swaminarayan Akshardham. Considering that their scholarly interests were the ritual aspects of Indian culture, the religious symbology, and the Vedic Civilizations, I figured they'd have a field day here, seeing first-hand all these aspects alive today at Akshardham, crafted and designed by those vested over generations in the culture. I expected a genuine curiosity at this contemporary attempt to capture some of the ancient Indian culture.

Being met with more skepticism than would come from a journalist, atheist, or Marx himself was, to say the least, a bit surprising. As the executive decisions came down on what to show them, I knew this was going to be an interesting visit: First, the Vedic Civilizations exhibit, then the Abhishek Puja and Monument. At the third exhibition, I could see a few of them looking at the boat-ride with what appeared to be the are you kidding me? look on their faces. And as they sailed away "along the banks of the River Saraswati," I hoped they wouldn't openly ridicule it as soon as they got out. I made sure they didn't have their chance. "So many people think that the ancient civilizations were backward and barbaric," I started up right as they disembarked, "but, as you can very clearly see, they were nothing of the sort." I was met with murmurs of agreement. Some unintelligible chatter in German in which I heard the word verkitschen (worthless) followed, then they shuffled out behind me toward the Abhishek Puja*.

There, I played on their interest in rituals. "The Abhishek Puja is a simple ritual aimed at making the average person spend at least some time thinking about the well-being of others and of his own soul. It allows participants to engage in a very personal form of bhakti, or worship, that resembles the love and affection that goes into the act of bathing one's own child. The Shanti Path Sanskrit verses that are recited are prayers to God that He grant eternal, lasting peace to your soul, the souls of your loved ones, those of every living being in the world, and that his grace and compassion reign supreme over the universe. As you pour the water over the murti, make a well-wish on behalf of another - if you do so sincerely and pure-heartedly, the belief is that God will make it come true."

A reply from one of the group came quickly: So if it doesn't come true, does that mean I'm not pure-hearted?

I laughed, thinking he was joking. No, seriously, does it mean that I'm not pure-hearted? What? Are you kidding? A scholar on religious ritual of all people is attempting to take a matter of faith literally. "No, it just means that it may not be in God's greater plan," I deflected, "It's the thought that counts, anyway - we're just trying to get people to spend a couple of minutes considering their own spirituality." I prayed the monument would be my respite - it's hard not to be amazed by it.

Apparently that wasn't in God's greater plan, either. As I explained that this whole 100-acre complex project was started and finished in 4.5 years, I was met with "Well, you used cranes, right? That'd make it easier." And the comment on the intricacy of the carvings all around and up into the domes was met with "They're too far away," "They don't speak to me," (no shit, Sherlock, they're marble), and then the most telling comment of the afternoon, "I like the carvings in Somnath better."

Somnath?! Okay, the Somnath Temple carvings are THE EXACT SAME STYLE of carvings as in Akshardham! See for yourself (Somnath is in the middle):

My suspicions that the only "credible" or "real" monuments of the ancient Indian artisanry to them were the ones that were old were confirmed when I read one of the comment sheets after the guests left - "I'll be glad to be in Varanasi tomorrow."

Now I sincerely hope these scholars aren't guilty of believing that only old things are really traditional. Archaeologists would love to be able to reconstruct what ancient Roman temples looked like. Marine biologists are amazed when they find "living fossils" that give them insight into what the ancient creatures looked like. Swaminarayan Akshardham represents the revival of an architecural tradition that hasn't been used in over five centuries. It's a living fossil of architecture, yet because it's not old, it seems to be less valuable. Oddly enough, I think it is, in a sense, more valuable BECAUSE it is so new. The whole conceptualization, design, and construction have been meticulously charted and recorded - and can be studied. It's like being able to watch evolution happen.

On the other hand, I can understand to an extent the "kitschy" perception of the boat-ride. New media are always rejected at first, but over time, become accepted as ways of transmitting messages to a populous. Roman Catholics rejected sculpture and painting as methods of transmitting religious messages and stories because the 'traditional way' of doing it was through long hand-written books that only monks could read anyway. Eventually, Michelangelo, da Vinci, and other great artists brought about a new "tradition." In this day and age, 'traditional' means prayer in quiet repose and didactic presentations by ministers and priests. Even Lakewood Church experiences a rejection of non-traditional ways. But as the author of the preceding article puts it, "Much criticism of Christians by other Christians comes from differences in priorities." I definitely think the "difference in priorities" comes into play at Akshardham as well. Nevertheless, I'm willing to bet that in 50 years, the use of technology to present morals and values messages will be the 'tradition' and society will simply start rejecting the next new thing.

I guess its to be expected then that these scholars, who make careers out of studying the old ways would lack the interest of studying something new. It's just disappointing that a living past stands before them, but they won't see it until it, too, becomes old.