(I think unfavorable reviews of books are at least of two kinds: (1) Unfavorable for the right reasons, which can be humbling and provide opportunities for reflection to the author; (2) Unfavorable for the wrong reasons, rooted in the reviewer’s misreading, willful ignorance or prejudices. Given how propagandized popular history has become in the age of Hindutva, I expect many reviews of the second kind, which are usually best disregarded. However, a recent mixed review in Biblio includes critiques of the second kind from Harish Trivedi, a scholar of postcolonialism. It bugged me enough to compel the response below, to also appear in the next issue of Biblio.)
As readers, we expect book reviewers to draw out the major arguments in new books. But often, reviewers end up revealing much about themselves, as does Harish Trivedi, a scholar of postcolonialism and translation studies, in his recent review of my book, Indians: A Brief History of a Civilization. Appearing in Biblio (January–March 2021, p. 9), his review reveals troubling intellectual positions and attitudes, manifest in his misreading, falsification and clouding of my arguments. So I feel compelled to respond.
Trivedi complains that ‘Few books which are mainly about pre-Muslim India (for the Great Mughals too are largely absent here) have Hinduism struggling so hard for space and representation as in this one.’ This nearly made me fall out of my chair. How had he failed to notice that besides a chapter on the Harappans, and three mostly about Buddhism, the remaining seven are mostly about Hinduism and Hindus (as these terms are now understood)? I wondered: What lay behind his anxiety about my apparently inadequate coverage of Hinduism?
Some clues soon emerge. Though he sees Indians as ‘mainly about pre-Muslim India’ (untrue; over a third of the book spans the second millennium), he alleges that ‘Arora seems to believe that the Muslims in India could do no wrong.’ This struck me as a surprising, sweeping and unfair charge. Having ignored my animus for folks like Mahmud of Ghazni, Bhaktiar Khilji and Aurangzeb, he attempts to offer some examples to substantiate his reading. Let’s examine them.
First, he writes, ‘Thus, when Ibn Battuta reports that “the Muslims have mutilated” the idols at Khajuraho, [Arora] says that no such mutilation is now “evident”’. That’s head-scratching logic. Just because I cast doubt on a claim of mutilation (as many have done), does that mean I believe that Muslims could do no wrong? Early travelers often erred or recorded hearsay. One wonders why Trivedi is so eager to blindly accept Battuta’s account, without even considering the actual evidence from the temples.
Second, Trivedi distorts my argument to say: ‘[Arora] refuses to credit Robert Sewell’s statement that the empire of Vijayanagar was “a Hindu bulwark against Muslim conquests” (p 207), though it clearly remained for a couple of centuries the only major Hindu kingdom in the Deccan.’ What I’ve ‘refused to credit’ is Sewell’s simplistic view of a Hindu–Muslim equation in the Deccan. Reams of historical sources and current scholarship reject both the colonial and Hindutva characterization of Vijayanagar kings as self-conscious defenders of Hinduism—or ‘saviors of the south’ [Sewell]—against Islam. The Deccan’s shifting alliances, actual wars, composition of the armies, internal dynamics, etc. make it clear that ‘The kings of Vijayanagar were not mainly defending Hinduism against Islam; they were mainly defending their kingdom against other kingdoms, both Muslim and Hindu.’ But Trivedi’s objection suggests that he sees this past primarily in sectarian terms.
Third, Trivedi complains: ‘As for the matter of Aurangzeb’s destruction of Hindu temples in Varanasi, Arora relegates it to his Endnotes.’ This is plainly false. I discuss temple destructions under both Shah Jahan and Aurangzeb (pp. 235–237) and place only the details of specific desecrations in the endnotes, which is what that section is for. He also smells a rat in my placement of the Varanasi chapter at the end. It escapes him that since Varanasi is the only continuously living city I explore, it can be placed anywhere in the book’s timeline, depending on my material.
Fourth, and no less tellingly, Trivedi seems convinced that Muslims caused the demise of Buddhism in India—a position long outside credible scholarship. This is despite all the evidence I provide on how Buddhism had already begun its decline in the seventh century and why it had vanished in all but a few pockets in Eastern India by late tenth century. Modern scholarship has shown that Ambedkar, speaking generations ago, erred on this topic but Trivedi still hangs onto those superseded ideas, even while, I suspect, he feels little affinity for the Ambedkar who said subversive things about caste or Brahminism.
I welcome reasoned critiques of my work but this wasn’t one of them. Trivedi’s review indicates neither honest differences of opinion, nor simple ignorance, nor just a little disdain for contemporary scholarship in history. It raises awkward questions about his social vision and politics. His review was particularly disappointing because the one time I had met him, he struck me as a charming, erudite and witty man. Oddly, despite his reservations, he still seems to have liked Indians enough to conclude that ‘One can hardly wait for his next book.’ I thank him for his engagement and hope he’ll bring a more open mind to my next book.
(Addendum: Screenshot from Biblio below)
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