Reclaiming
Not "Converting To"
The Sufi Way
By Jayshree Kewalramani
04 October, 2006
Countercurrents.org
As
a young girl growing up in Kuwait among a diasporic Indian community
I was scarcely aware of my religious, let alone ethnic origins. No one
had ever asked me where I was from and I hadn't felt the need to ponder
over or interrogate my parents about our ancestry. I knew I was Indian,
but my home was very much in Kuwait. There was no contradiction in that.
Fortunately my family and
I escaped the Iraq invasion of Kuwait, as we happened to be on vacation
in India where we remained once it was clear that the occupation was
not likely to end anytime soon. Within the first few weeks of my attendance
at school in Bombay, my hitherto uncontested and uninterrogated identity
became a source of great anxiety. Some girls would ask me if I was Indian
or Kuwaiti. As far as I could tell, we looked the same – I wasn't
a shade too dark or a shade too fair - and there should have been no
reason for anyone to quibble. Often during our Marathi classes we were
asked to write brief biographies of ourselves, describing not our interests
or creativity but dull details like our names, our age and significantly
the place of birth and native village. Having never been to a village
before, I was clueless as to the answer and nervously looked at the
answers given by my peers. Surely my village had to be equally obscure
but did I even have one? Delhi, where my father grew up, was certainly
not a village! But I felt at a great disadvantage as I couldn't lay
a claim to a village of my own and hence left a blank on that page of
my Marathi notebook.
A few years later, I must
have been about 12 years old or so, I was giving a friend a lift to
school. We had known each other a while but religion had never cropped
up as a topic of conversation. I knew she was Catholic and attended
the Religious Study class while I, like other non-Christian students
of our school who were clubbed together, was made to sit through what
was then called Moral Science (later Value education) class. As a non-catholic
in a convent school I always felt there was something I was missing
out on. We never really discussed with the other girls what they did
at their Religious Study classes but I knew I felt a bit left out. Strangely
though when I talked to my friend, she told me that as a child she had
earlier attended the Moral Science classes and enjoyed them too. She
didn't realize that she was meant to be in the other class, among other
students. Moreover, she told me that as her father was Muslim and her
mother was Catholic, she always had access to another religious option;
it wasn't a firm decision that she was a Catholic exclusively, but a
contingent one.
I remembered that conversation
recently while I was reading about the Gujarat Freedom of Religion (Amendment)
Bill 2006. Among other things, it subsumes Jainism and Buddhism under
the category of Hinduism which itself operates as a dangerously ill-defined
term. Yet the identification of these different faiths as being inherently
one or part of a single tradition is nothing new. I have heard it repeated
in my conversations with my Hindu friends and it strikes me as being
no different from my university experience in Leeds last year when a
Pakistani Muslim gentleman greeted my Indonesian neighbour with delight
– he was disappointed upon being told that Dwan was Christian,
not Muslim, and deservedly chided for his presumption. Faith is an extremely
personal matter, yet one's declaration of one's faith - in the above
case, mere mention of one's nationality - brings one in confrontation
or maybe even unsolicited affiliation with strangers. However, ultimately
every individual possesses the unique agency to define themselves in
their own terms that might undermine or bypass received notions and
categories. In a liberal state, the government and the constitution
have little role to play in defining or determining matters of personal
belief. If certain individuals or groups have a reduced capacity to
voice their own interests then the law needs to safeguard their interests
but the right to self-definition, much like the right to self-determination
involves the exercise of autonomy. It is the individual himself/herself
who can eventually negotiate - define or disavow - aspects of their
identity.
The Gujarat Religious Freedom
(Amendment) Bill 2006 not only encroaches upon individual space, it
further seeks to perpetuate Hindus (subsuming Jains & Buddhists),
Muslims and Christians as mutually exclusive and, what are worse, hostile
categories. It is not business of the state to determine or monitor
the parameters of individual preference, especially those pertaining
to matters of personal faith. I might be a closet Mithun Chakravorty
fan with a penchant for cheesy 80s disco music but that is hardly something
that I need to inform my district magistrate of. "Conversion"
(I use quotation marks to denote the inadequacy of the term in facilitating
the understanding of the phenomenon involving the acceptance of another
religion as well as to allude to its political instrumentalisation as
dirty word), as a personal choice, is linked to one's right to exercise
one's will. In the Indian context it is frequently linked to emancipation
from oppressive and hegemonic structures. It is thus a decision, a process
and one that is most fundamentally linked to one's desire and capacity
to define one's personal beliefs and/or also reconstruct one's social
identity.
I might not have known the
name of my native village as a child. Having discovered since that it
is in present day Pakistan, in Sindh, evokes no phantom wish to relocate
there on any terms. My link with Sindh, much like my relationship with
Hinduism, is complex and not reducible to simple categories of being.
Having lived a significant portion of my life as a diasporic Indian,
I am happy continually renegotiating my beliefs and identity without
worrying about things like "origins" and "native"
and misclassifying my beliefs as Hindu (as opposed to Islam, Christian).
The single most valuable thing that I have re-inherited as it were from
my musings over Sindh is its non-sectarian Sufi culture. One romantically
wishes to return religion to the spiritual domain, removed from politics
of hate; yet the present urgency compels one to wonder whether perhaps
the former can be mobilized to combat the latter. To do so it becomes
necessary to reclaim shared socio-cultural spaces and traditions without
glossing over seeming contradictions, subsuming distinct identities
or homogenizing/erasing differences.
In a rejoinder to the blank
that I left on that dreaded page of my Marathi note-book, I would like
to revisit it with the absence that Sindh marks in the mental topography
of Sindhis in India and elsewhere. However, I would choose to fill that
blank/absence not with the wounded memory or postmemory of partition,
which has aided Hindutva sympathies, rather I would like to reclaim
an important heritage that has been threatened since. While the controversial
Gujarat Freedom of Religion (Amendment) Bill 2006 recognizes Sunni and
Shia as Islamic sects and by an invented corollary defines Jainism and
Buddhism as sects of Hinduism, I would like to lay claim to, or rather
reclaim, an alternative belief and practice. Unlike present monolithic
categories, Sufism - especially Sufi shrines - enabled the sustenance
of shared spaces where members of different religious leanings offered
prayers together without confronting, denying or erasing each other's
differences. My challenge to unsolicited categories and definitions
prescribed by the state is a non-sectarian one, which not only undermines
exclusivist definitions but also religious orthodoxy.
By reclaiming Sindh's sufi
heritage, in one stroke, I reclaim my Sindhi identity without erasing
my Indian nationality or diluting my liberal humanistic values. And
that is what faith and identity (as well as education) must primarily
be about - liberation, spiritual growth and empowerment not dogma and
social division.
Comment
On This Article