City and Book X, Florence and India
Please send title, abstract (limit 300
words), brief biography, and whether
paper is to be given in person or by
Zoom, whether in Florence or Delhi, by
16 March
have 20 minute paper ready in Word by 3
April for translating and sharing online
for the other participants, etc.
14 April 2023 Visits in Florence, Italy, to the Museo Stibbert
and to the English Cemetery
dinner at the Crown of India restaurant, Florence
23 April 2023 Conference held hybrid at the Red House, Delhi,
India
Suggested Paper Topics:
The Florence, Cascine Park, Monument for the Indian
Prince, Rajah Chuttraputti of Kolhapur
Isa Blagden
of Bellosguardo and Robert Lytton, first Viceroy of India -
Elena Gianarelli
Joseph Garrow, first translator into English of Dante’s Vita
nova -Nicholas Havely
His daughter, Theodosia Garrow Trollope
Sir James Annesley’s study of tropical diseases
Walter Savage Landor and Rose Aylmer
Rogers, Ruskin, Tolstoy, Proust, Gandhi - Sriram Rajasekaran
Oscar Wilde, Florence and India - Rita Severi
The Stibbert Family in India and in Florence
The Pre-Raphaelites and Florence (William Morris, Holman
Hunt, Spencer Stanhope) - Nic Peeters
John Ruskin, Mornings in Florence
Frederick Lord Leighton and Edward Said’s Orientalism
Tolstoy and
Gandhi, Don Milani and Giorgio La Pira
Santha Rama Rau, Home to India
Vandana Shiva and Ecology
The Diaspora of Indian Craftsmanship by the Roma -
Daniel-Claudiu Dumitrescu
Decolonialism
Queen Victoria and India - Domenico Savini
The Crystal Palace of 1851 and India
Mornings in Delhi - Arjun Shivaji Jaina
Others
Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) is
the author of poems, a tragedy, letters and various writings
that are set, describe, or expound some of his ideas on
Florence and its greatest poet, Dante Alighieri. He first
visited Florence in 1875, when still a student
at Oxford, where he had attended Ruskin’s lectures. He
returned to the city in 1894, when he visited Violet
Paget/Vernon Lee and her step-brother Eugene Lee Hamilton. He
saw much of Bernard Berenson, a little less of André Gide,
toured Villa Stibbert
and left his signature in the guest book. Throughout his life
he was attracted to the subcontinent of India, to its
spirituality and religion. As the editor of “The Woman’s
World” (1887-1890) he chose to review books about Indian
society and its women, and he solicited articles about India,
written by English authors who had visited and studied that
intriguing world. He was extremely keen in learning about its
sacred poetry and its ancient rituals. In his home, in Tite
Street, Chelsea, he surrounded himself with small Indian
decorative objects, and had most of the floors in the house
covered with Indian matting. In his tragedy, Salomé, in the
metaphorical “dance of the seven veils”, Wilde surprisingly
evokes one of the most complex and artistic Indian myths.
The Magic Spell of a Book - Sriram
Rajasekaran
In 1832, John Ruskin is
gifted a book for his birthday. Ruskin later writes that the
gift decided “the entire direction of my life’s energies.” The
book is an illustrated edition of Rogers’ poems on Italy,
majority of the illustrations are done by Turner, including
the one accompanying Rogers’ poem on Florence, which begins
thus:
Of all the fairest Cities of the Earth
None is so fair as Florence. ‘Tis is a gem
Of purest ray; and what a light broke forth,
When it emerged from the darkness!
Ruskin writes, “This book
was the first means I had of looking carefully at Turner’s
work”, it was responsible for his “Turner insanities”, and
that the book “determined the main tenor of my life.”
In 1899, Marcel Proust
writes a letter to his mother, asking her to send him,
urgently, Robert de La Sizeranne’s Ruskin et la religion
de la beauté. Proust was staying at the time in the spa
town of Evian-les-Bains on the south side of Lake Geneva. He
wanted the book so that he could “see the mountains through
the eyes of that great man (Ruskin).” Later, Proust went to
the Bibliotheque nationale and started looking up works by
Ruskin. He shelved his novel Jean Santeuil, which remained
unfinished and unpublished in his lifetime, and began working
on translation and commentary of Ruskin’s works. I would argue
that Proust’s seminal work In Search of Lost Time has many
elements that are directly or indirectly influenced by his
reading of Ruskin.
In 1904, Mohandas Gandhi is seated on a train in South Africa.
A friend hands him a book to read on the journey. Gandhi later
writes “I determined to change my life in accordance with the
ideals of the book.” The book was Unto This Last by
Ruskin. Gandhi called him “great Ruskin.” “It (the book)
gripped me, brought about an instantaneous and practical
transformation in my life.” Gandhi named Srimad Rajchandra,
Tolstoy, and Ruskin as the three moderns who left a deep
impression on his life and “captivated” him.
In all three instances, it
was a book that transfixed and transformed the lives of these
great men. In this talk I would like to speak on my experience
of discovering Ruskin, and thereby Gandhi and Tolstoy, through
Proust, or more specifically, through Proust’s book, In
Search of Lost Time.
Lytton Strachey's Queen Victoria - Gabriella Del Lungo
Camiciotti
In 1877,
Benjamin Disraeli, Conservative Prime Minister, had Queen
Victoria proclaimed as Empress of India. India was already
under crown control after 1858, but this title was a gesture
to link the monarchy with the empire further and bind colonial
India more closely to its metropolitan centre, London.
Celebrations were held in Delhi on 1 January 1877, led by the
Viceroy, Lord Lytton. An important source to show light on how
the event was received and the significance of imperialist
policies in late nineteenth century is represented by Lytton
Strachey’s Queen Victoria (London: Chatto &
Windus, 1921). The paper will analyse the concept of empire
expressed in this very influential work and how Queen Victoria
was perceived as the imperial emblem.
Masculinisation of the ‘Motherland’: Analyzing Rabindranath
Tagore’s The Home and the World through an Eco-Feminist Lens -
Pritha Chakraborty
This paper aims to examine Rabindranath
Tagore's 1916 novel The Home and the World through an
ecofeminist lens. Drawing on the concept of Vandana Shiva's
work Ecofeminism, the paper seeks to highlight how the
nationalistic fervour in the wake of India's freedom struggle
excluded women's participation, making the concept of
‘Motherland as a Nation’ a completely patriarchal endeavour.
Although the land was worshipped as a Mother Goddess, the
violations of the nation in the name of religious bigotry,
communalism, fanaticism, and violence led to a similar
violation of women, whose step outside the ‘zenana’ was
considered to be harmful for the nation. Focusing on Vandana
Shiva’s idea of ‘Masculinisation of the Motherland’, the paper
shows how women and the nation suffered systematic exclusion
at the hands of patriarchal leaders. It had become a
paradoxical process of the masculinization of the motherland,
precisely leading to the creation of internal boundaries and
the fragmentation of a nation based on communal disharmony.
The paper also discusses how the politics of exclusion built
on the guise of nationalism affected the novel's protagonist,
who became entangled in the phoney nationalistic endeavours
and moulded herself into a patriarchal consciousness. She was
expected to retain the ‘Bhadramahila’ concept of the early
nineteenth century and abide by the so-called weapons of the
male nationalist to be able to be a part of the liberation of
the country. The country as a motherland is replaced by a
masculinized nation-state in which the linkage of goddess
figures is solely based on modern patriarchal ideals. The
paper emphasises that ‘Mother India’, also known as ‘Bharat
Mata’ in a fundamentalist discourse, was not a source of
‘Shakti’, but rather a battlefield of communal riots that
resulted in the destruction of both the nation and women who
were trapped in a patriarchal system.
Il leone nella poesia
politica e civile trecentesca minore di area toscana,
similitudini con il contesto indiano/ The Lion in the 14th-
Century minor political and civil poetry in the Tuscan area.
Some similarities between the Indian context.- Marialaura
Pancini
Il leone fin dall’antichità ha esercitato un certo fascino
nell’immaginario umano divenendo oggetto di una serie
innumerevole di similitudini, metafore e immagini simboliche
che attraversano le culture, le aree geografiche e le epoche.
Se si osserva il panorama della poesia politica e civile
trecentesca minore di area toscana si può vedere che il leone
come simbolo e metafora è molto presente nel repertorio
tematico dei rimatori toscani, in particolare fiorentini.
Spesso si utilizza il leone Marzocco fiorentino, che diviene
un emblema della città già dal XII secolo, per riferirsi alla
città di Firenze. Si veda il caso del sonetto Il lion di
Firenze è migliorato, dove il leone rappresenta la stessa
città toscana, che dopo un periodo di decadenza si trova in un
momento più fortuito rispetto al passato. Se si osserva il
contesto indiano, il capitello di Sarnath, emblema della
Repubblica Indiana, rappresenta sull’abaco quattro leoni
addossati, la maestosità di questi leoni ricorda da vicino il
Marzocco fiorentino. Per quanto riguarda il leone
genericamente come animale, se si osserva ad esempio il testo
di Folgore da San Gimignano Guelfi, per fare scudo de le reni
tale animale viene usato come metafora di superiorità bellica.
L’immagine del leone come simbolo di forza si ritrova
nell’Iliade, ma anche in contesti geografici diversi come in
India dove è accostato alle divinità. Lo scopo di questa
presentazione è quello, in primo luogo, grazie all’utilizzo di
testi concreti afferenti al genere della poesia politica e
civile trecentesca minore di area toscana, di delineare quella
che è la considerazione che si ha del leone e la simbologia
che è legata a questo animale in questo contesto storico e
geografico. In secondo luogo, si evidenzieranno quelle che
sono le similitudini tra l’immagine del leone nel contesto
toscano medievale e la simbologia che il contesto indiano
attribuisce al leone.
Since ancient times the lion exerted a
certain fascination in the human imagination, this animal is
the protagonist of uncountable similitudes, metaphors, and
symbolic images that cross cultures, geographical areas, and
time eras. Looking at the genre of the 14th- Century minor
political and civil poetry in the Tuscan area, the lion, cited
as a symbol or as a metaphor, is very present in the thematic
repertoire of Tuscan poets, in particular the Florentines. The
Florentine Marzocco, which became an emblem of the city as
early as the XII Century, is often used to refer to the city
of Florence. I can quote the example of Il lione di Firenze è
migliorato, where the lion represents the Tuscan city itself,
which after a period of decline is now in a better moment than
before. Looking at the Indian context, the capital of Sarnath,
the emblem of the Indian Republic, represents four lions on
the abacus leaning against each other, the majesty of these
lions remembers the Florentine Marzocco. Regarding the lion as
a generic animal, I can quote the example of Guelfi, per fare
scudo de le reni by Folgore da San Gimignano, here this animal
is used as a metaphor for Bellic superiority. We can find the
image of the lion as a symbol of strength in the Iliad, this
is also common in different geographical areas such as in
India where the lion is associated with deities. The aim of
this presentation is firstly - through the use of concrete
texts within the genre of minor 14th-Century political and
civil poetry from the Tuscan area- to outline the
consideration of the lion and the symbolism that is linked to
this animal in this historical and geographical context.
Secondly, I am going to focus on the similarities between the
image of the lion in the medieval Tuscan context and the
symbolism that the Indian context attributes to the lion.
Alcune riflessioni sulla
parola polis, civitas, città/Some reflections on the word
polis, civitas, city - Francesca Ditifeci
Come diceva Aristotele l’essere umano è zoon politikon
echon ton logon, animale politico dotato di parola, corpo
abitato dalla parola. Ed è proprio nella sua identità di
parlessere che diviene cittadino, abitante della polis. Quindi
gli uomini sono esseri capaci di politica, perché sono esseri
capaci di linguaggio. In questa prospettiva diviene chiaro che
“in una città un posto ci deve essere per
tutti: un posto per pregare (la chiesa), un posto per amare
(la casa), un posto per lavorare (l’officina), un posto per
pensare (la scuola), un posto per guarire (l’ospedale). In
questo quadro cittadino, perciò, i problemi politici ed
economici, sociali e tecnici, culturali e religiosi della
nostra epoca prendono una impostazione elementare ed umana!
Appaiono quali sono: cioè problemi che non possono più
essere lasciati insoluti” (La Pira 1954).
E’ nella città che l’essere umano cerca la sua
realizzazione perché “per ciascuna di esse è valida la
definizione luminosa di Péguy: essere la città dell’uomo
abbozzo e prefigurazione della città di Dio. Città arroccate
attorno al tempio; irradiate dalla luce celeste che da esso
deriva: città nelle quali la bellezza ha preso dimora, s’è
trascritta nelle pietre: città collocate sulla montagna dei
secoli e delle generazioni: destinate ancora oggi e domani a
portare alla civiltà meccanica del nostro tempo e del tempo
futuro una integrazione sempre più profonda ed essenziale di
qualità e di valore! Ognuna di queste città non è un museo ove
si accolgono le reliquie, anche preziose, del passato: è una
luce ed una bellezza destinata ad illuminare le strutture
essenziali della storia e della civiltà dell’avvenire.” (La Pira 1955).
As Aristotle said, the human being is zoon
politikon echon ton logon, a political animal endowed
with speech, a body inhabited by speech. And it is precisely
in his identity as a parlessere that he becomes a citizen, an
inhabitant of the polis. Thus men are beings capable of
politics because they are beings capable of language. In this
perspective, it becomes clear that "in a city there must be a
place for everyone: a place to pray (the church), a place to
love (the home), a place to work (the workshop), a place to
think (the school), a place to heal (the hospital). In this
city framework, therefore, the political and economic, social
and technical, cultural and religious problems of our age take
on an elementary and human approach! They appear as they are:
that is, problems that can no longer be left unsolved” (La Pira 1954).
It is in the city that the human being seeks his fulfilment
because "for each of them Péguy's luminous definition is
valid: to be the city of man, a sketch and prefiguration of
the city of God. Cities perched around the temple; irradiated
by the celestial light that derives from it: cities in which
beauty has taken up residence, has transcribed itself in the
stones: cities placed on the mountain of centuries and
generations: destined still today and tomorrow to bring to the
mechanical civilisation of our time and of future times an
ever deeper and more essential integration of quality and
value! Each of these cities is not a museum where relics, even
precious ones, of the past are housed: it is a light and a
beauty destined to illuminate the essential structures of the
history and civilisation of the future” (La Pira 1955).
Edinburgh
– Historic Burial Grounds both as exemplar and at risk - Dr
Peter Burman MBE FSA, architectural historian and conservator
Peter Burman began to be interested in historic burial grounds
as a schoolboy exploring churches and churchyards in his
native county of Warwickshire. This led him to study History
of Art at the University of Cambridge. His first role was as
Assistant, Deputy then Director of the Council for the Care of
Churches and the Cathedrals Fabric Commission for England. In
this role, which lasted for twenty-two years, he and his
colleagues were constantly giving advice and grants for the
conservation and repair of sculpturally important monuments
both within churches and outside churches in the historic
burial grounds which typically surround them. He began to work
not only with conservators to conserve them but also with
craftspeople to ensure that new monuments were beautiful and
meaningful.
Later, as Director of Conservation & Property Services of
the National Trust for Scotland, he found himself living
within the City of Edinburgh World Heritage Site and this
encouraged him to take an interest in the five historic burial
grounds which are situated there. They are places of memory,
but also social places, visited by many who are interested in
their heritage and human values. He is fascinated by their
artistic and historic interest but also by the role they can
play in the contemporary community of a city. In Edinburgh (as
in all other cities where historic burial grounds exist) there
many aspects which have to be managed: keeping the frequently
ambitious architecture of mausolea in good repair through
regular maintenance (in Edinburgh they include temple-like
mausolea designed by 18th century members of the famous Adam
family of architects); walls, often extensive and impressive
in character; conservation of sculpture, using materials
compatible with the original; drainage; archaeology; wildlife;
flowers and greensward. Ideally these historic burial grounds
need to be quiet and dignified, and yet at the same time
welcoming and safe. Architecture and artistic sculpture,
allied with beautiful and characterful lettering, have their
part to play, but there is also often a personal response to
these landscapes of melancholy beauty.
The challenges of caring for these special landscapes of
memory are many and varied but the Edinburgh burial grounds
are probably typical of many urban situations: shortage of
funds; lack of clarity about the ownership of monuments;
neglect (leading to standard conservation problems of soiled
stonework; open joints; poor repairs, using cement instead of
lime-based mortars; vegetation); vandalism, even theft;
legibility of inscriptions; anti-social behaviour; greed of
developers on adjacent sites; and so on.
Peter Burman will speak from many years of rich experience of
conserving architectural and artistic heritage, and of being
joint author with Henry Stapleton of the Churchyards Handbook,
which has been through many editions over the years. In his
‘churches role’ he frequently collaborated with experts on
tress, mosses and lichen; lettering and sculpture; in the
organisation of Churchyard Study Days to introduce local
people to the beauties, interests and specialness of their
historic burial ground.
Il Parco delle Cascine e il monumento al Principe Indiano,
Rajah Chuttraputti di Kolhapur
- Arch. Amina
Anelli, Comune di Firenze
Una passeggiata nelle “Cascine
dell’Isola”, tra storia e restauro, alla scoperta degli arredi
monumentali fino a raggiungere uno dei luoghi più misteriosi e
suggestivi del parco, il monumento al Principe Indiano.
Del Principe, conosciuto da tutti i
Fiorentini tanto da essere quasi un “amico” (“ci si vede
all’Indiano”, “sono arrivato all’Indiano”, “ci siamo trovati
all’Indiano”...) pochi conoscono la storia.
Il monumento, eretto per
commemorare il giovane principe indiano Rajaram Chuttraputti di Kolhapur
(1849-1870), fu progettato dal
Capitano Charles Mant, ingegnere britannico mentre il busto fu
eseguito dallo scultore inglese Charles Francis Fuller.
Nell’intervento si parlerà
della storia e del restauro del monumento eseguito nel 2020.
Ruskin and
his Tuscan Sybil, Francesca Alexander - Emma
Sdegno.
In October 1882, on his last visit to Tuscany, Ruskin was
introduced in Florence to Francesca Alexander, an American
expatriate, daughter of a couple of Boston artists. With a
passion for Tuscany and for its people, Francesca gathered folk
songs orally transmitted among the contadini, and composed
a beautiful manuscript with the poems she transcribed and
translated into English, decorated with drawings of wild
flowers, portraits of the people and scenes illustrating the
songs. This
work had philanthropic purposes as Francesca’s aim was not to
publish it as such but to sell the sole manuscript for the
financial benefit of the poor Italian peasantry that had
provided them. When he saw the 108-page manuscript Ruskin
immediately offered to buy it and acquire the copyright to
publish the work as its editor with the aim of conveying to the English mind “some
sympathetic conception of the reality of the sweet soul of
Catholic Italy”. In my paper
I shall outline the fascinating history of Ruskin’s editing of
Francesca Alexander’s Roadside Songs of Tuscany, and his endeavour to compose a spiritual
memorial of the Abetone peasants and the mysticism of their
everyday life.
APPENDIX
FEMINIST GANDHI
Indira Gandhiahatma Gandhi brought a new dimension into our lives. When he spoke of nonviolence, he meant not merely the avoidance of violent action but cleansing our hearts of hatred and bittereness. He unveiled the spiritual political power of illiterate and humble have-nots and pointed out that the only programmes worth preaching were those which could be translated into action. He said that every decision and programme should be judged from the viewpoint of the poorest and the weakest.
The reader might well rebel at this paper's title. Gandhi is seen as a 'male chauvinist'. However, there are aspects to Gandhi's life and thought that can be related to feminism. This paper discusses three aspects of Gandhi - Gandhi and Patriarchy, Gandhi and Women, Gandhi and the Bomb, all of which are related to each other. It will not be academic but instead, to a large extent, in Gandhi's own manner, an experiment with truth.
Gandhi and Patriarchy
y best avenue to this
topic is to discuss the relationship of a father, a daughter
and Gandhi. My father was an Englishman in India and a friend
of Gandhi. My father and Gandhi were both journalists, so once
they both wrote up interviews of each other, my father's
serious one on Gandhi in The Times of India, Gandhi's
joking one in Young India about blue-eyed, fair-haired
Glorney Bolton. My father was with Gandhi on the Salt March to
Dandi in March 1930. There was a British Broadcasting Corporation recording of many voices, 'Talking of Gandhiji', my
father's voice being one of these, now lost. Though the book
made from it exists. This is what my father said on that
broadcast of the event where Gandhi illegally and very simply
gathered salt from the sea:
And there was Gandhi, walking along, with his friends round him, it was a sort of terrific anticlimax. There was no cheering, no great shouts of delight, and no sort of stately procession at all, it was all . . . in a sense rather farcical. However this great march had begun . . . here he was, quite happy, with people round him, on the whole very quiet, but now and again you heard Gandhi . . . break out with that wonderful boyish laughter of his. He didn't know how the march was going to end, but nonetheless, there I was, seeing history happen in a strange sort of . . . way; something completely un-European and yet very, very moving.That act was to end Britain's dominion of India. Such a simple act - yet far more powerful than any act of violent terrorism, than any use of any bomb. But it needs an explanation. Britain imposed a monopoly upon salt in India. She did so because Rome had likewise imposed such a monopoly upon all the lands that lay under the yoke of her vast Empire. From it comes the word 'salary' that we use today. Salt was made into a currency, the state controlling a substance essential to life. However, such a monopoly was not the practice in Britain. Its imposition upon India was an unjust, patriarchal, imperial act and Gandhi, who had studied law in England, knew this. Our American version of this simple gathering of salt from the sea was Rosa Parks, because of her tired feet, refusing her seat to a white man on an Alabama bus - an act which changed us from a racist nation to one with a dream of equality partly realized, though we have further to go.
I grew up with the knowledge of Gandhi all about me as a girl in England, knowing my father was his friend and had written his biography, The Tragedy of Gandhi, published in 1934 when it seemed that Gandhi had failed. I remember listening with great intensity to the Declaration of India's Independence by Earl Mountbatten and Jawaharlal Nehru on the radio when I was ten years old. But now, when I read my father's biography of Gandhi, two things make me rebel against that Englishman's perspective. My father wrote that he despised Gandhi's 'feminine masochism' (partly alluding to his use of 'anorexia') and he also criticized Gandhi's espousal of poverty. My father was a widow's son, had known comparative poverty, and had struggled against it to acquire an education at Oxford, failing to obtain his degree. He desperately wanted to succeed in journalism and politics. However, Gandhi really did succeed - but by insisting on getting rid of status and rank and caste - knowing that there was only so much to go round and that it must be shared, that one man's wealth causes another's poverty. Willy Brandt in the report North/South, likewise voices this in connection with war.
While hunger rules, peace cannot prevail. He who wants to ban war must also ban poverty. It makes no difference whether a human being is killed in war or starves to death because of the indifference of others.My father was then ambitious for wealth and fame and therefore Gandhi's ideas clashed with his own. But many years later he was to write a biography of Pope John XXIII, Living Peter, a biography which praises rather than blames a similar man. Gandhi, it can be seen, successfully educated his adversaries.
A colonial power must lie to itself. Gandhi stripped those lies away, using justice to unveil injustice, using law to demonstrate the lawlessness of British dominion. And to do so he turned to women.
Gandhi and Women
Margaret Bourke-White who photographed this immediately before Gandhi was assassinated
India had once been a great textile-producing nation. Our America calico cloth's name means that it once was produced at Calicut, in Madras, in India, and then exported to England and her colonies. But the English in the nineteenth century, to protect their own textile industries, forbade India to continue hers. Indians who had once exported textiles now had to import them from Lancashire. Gandhi saw one way of breaking British dominion over India as becoming self-sufficient in textile production. So he turned to village and cottage crafts, his womenfolk and he himself spinning and weaving khaddar cloth, homespun cloth. Santha Rama Rau, in her autobiography, Home to India, discussed the boycott and women's central participation in it. It is difficult for western, male culture to realize the full political importance of cloth. We are more involved with text than with textile. Yet to look at classical literature is to find that weaving by women was as important as tale-telling, history writing, by men, the two becoming interwoven in each other. In Guatemala today, the women express the tale of their oppression through embroidered pictures, which cannot be censored in the same way as can the written word.
It seems that every liberation movement needs the
feminine as well as the masculine, the women far more clearly
symbolizing the transition from bondage to freedom than does
the man. Gandhi wilfully took on that woman's role, using that
symbolism. His revolution against the mother country was not
with male weapons of destruction but with female tools of
production. His male sword was a female spinning wheel, the charka,
the wheel of life, the emblem today upon the flag of India -
and upon that of the Rom.
I find the spinning wheel admirable, not despicable. Here I and my father would part ways.
Gandhi and the Bomb
argaret Bourke-White, the
American Time/Life photographer who was with Gandhi
just before he was shot, disagreed with his feminine
principles. Paradoxically she wanted masculine solutions. As
did my father, she saw the answer to India's poverty in
westernization, industrialization, and high technology. Gandhi
countered her by quietly spinning cloth as she photographed
him. In her autobiography, Portrait of Myself, she
reported Gandhi's final conversation. It was about the nuclear
bomb.
As we sat there in the thin winter sunlight, he spinning and I jotting down his words, neither of us could know that this was to be perhaps his very last message to the world . . . Gandhi began to probe at the dreadful problem which has overwhelmed us all. I asked Gandhi how he would meet the atom bomb. Would he meet it with nonviolence? 'Ah', he said. 'How should I answer that? I would meet it by prayerful action.' I asked what form that action would take. 'I will not go underground. I will not go into shelters. I will go out and face the pilot so he will see I have not the face of evil against him.' He turned back to his spinning . . . I rose to leave, and folded my hands together in the gesture of farewell which Hindus use. But Gandhiji held out his hand to me and shook hands cordially in Western fashion.That gesture, incidentally, shows that one does not hold a sword. Gandhi then went to prayer and was shot. The man had given the woman's response, to spin, to provide clothing for future generations. The woman has been led to the ultimate technological development, the masculine weapon that could annihilate the future.
I do not know why this conversation was left out of the film, Gandhi, except to say that three years ago it was still not fashionable to fear the bomb. It was taboo, something deeply repressed. Today we are openly, consciously examining that issue. Gandhi can help us toward a solution. He would have us disarm. He would feminize the world. There are more tons of explosive power per child, woman and man in the world than there is food. Gandhi would say that preparation for war in order to prevent war is folly. Einstein did say that. It is time for a revolution for peace. Gandhi taught us how to have a revolution with tools that build a future, rather than with weapons that annihilate the past, the present and the future. To learn how to use these tools, Gandhi himself was willing to be taught by women. Weapons exist to enforce the power of one nation, race, sex, creed or caste over another's. Theirs is only a negative, destructive power. But in a world where the primary concerns are shelter, food, and clothing for all, regardless of these superficial distinctions, weapons become unnecessary. Gandhi, in turning to the untouchables and the women, turned Hinduism upside-down and he turned the world the right way round.
Originally given as a paper, then published, in
1984, was awarded the 'Art of Peace' prize. The BBC broadcast
is now lost, but the book published from it survives.
Gandhi's possessions at his death, his glasses,
his sandals, etc.
Prega,
rifletti
e poi fai:
questa regola (di Gandhi) ottenne l'independenza
dell'India/
Pray, reflect, and then act:
This rule (from Gandhi) won India's indepedence
Gandhi's sandals he
made himself
Why I make my own
clothes myself
Reflections from India on Rome
and Florence, republished with permission from the
Editor-in-Chief, The Tribune, Chandigarh
THE SAD STORY OF UNQUIET GRAVES
MANOHAR
MALGONKAR
ANI
PALKHIVALA is one of the country’s foremost lawyers.
But he is also an astute and clear-headed economist
who has the ability to demystify the complexities of
high finance. That is why his annual dissection of the
country’s latest budget is so fully attended, so
widely discussed.
I remember how he made a point which touched the truth
of the theme of his lecture that we had become the
world’s Highest Taxed Nation. This was during the
sixties, when, Nehru’s Big Brother shadow fell over
everything. Palkhivala had us sitting up and listening
intently when he said something like this:
"If what I have been saying has made you realise that,
for most of us who earn a good living, declare our
incomes, pay our taxes, ours is a pretty difficult
country to live in. Now let me tell you this: It is an
even more difficult country to die in."
And then Palkhivala went on to show, giving precise
figures, how if a very rich man were to die leaving Rs
1 crore to his heirs, his heirs would not only have to
sell all his assets, but borrow money to satisfy the
tax man’s claims for death duties.
A crore in the sixties was wealth beyond the dreams of
avarice: worth about Rs 20 crore today. But the
country’s finance ministers had devised methods to
make sure that no one could be rich enough to leave
behind enough money to pay the fine for the crime of
having lived and earned money. Anyhow, this is not an
article on financial wisdom, but about something else
Mr Palkhivala told us that day, that the dead often
create a lot of problems for other people.
When a famous man dies, there are always people who
want to claim him as their own. In ancient Greece,
when the poet Homer died, several small towns in
Greece claimed to have been his birthplace and caused
riots and killings. In the same manner, in recent
memory, when the Burmese statesman, U Thant, who had
been the Secretary General of the United Nations in
the 1960s died, and his body was flown back to Burma,
there were bloody riots in Rangoon among U Thant’s
admirers over the right place for his grave.
At that, U. Thant obviously belonged to a religion
which believes in burying its dead and Burma — like
ourselves is a secular land which permits both
cremation or burial to say nothing of disposal by
other methods such as the one favoured by the Parsis,
of being fed to vultures. Because there are countries
which hold that their soil would be rendered impure by
the interment of a dead body of a person who belonged
to a religion different from their own.
The classic example was Saudi Arabia. Up until the
1970s, the Arabian American Oil Company, Aramco, held
the virtual monopoly for extracting and selling the
country’s petroleum products. Aramco always had around
1300 American citizens working in Saudi Arabia. These
Americans lived as a pampered community. They were
given padded salaries, extra leave and everything that
an American citizen was used to: Coca-cola,
hamburgers, corn flakes. They had social centres,
dance halls, libraries, even facilities for prayers
except that their churches did not bear crosses and
their priests, no priestly robes. They even had a
little cemetery in which bodies placed in coffins
could not be buried. Instead, they had to be encased
in concrete blocks, as though they were some kind of a
nuclear waste, leakproof. It was these rectangular
concrete blocks that formed the graves in the Aramco
cemetery.
One wonders if there are similar prohibitions in other
Islamic lands, too. What happens, say, to the victims
of a car crash in Peshawar or Kandahar, in which a
Hindu or Christian dies, and the body is so severely
mangled as to make body-bag repatriation impractical?
Would a cremation be allowed? — a burial? And even if
it can be done, just think of the procedural runround
that those responsible for the body would be put
through?
But it is not only Islamic countries that look upon
the dead of other faiths as soil-pollutants. Until
quite recently, things were just as difficult in parts
of Europe. Why, in Italy in the 19th century Roman
Catholics, too, were strict about not permitting
cremations on their soil or even the burial of
Protestant Christians.
In 1822, the British poet, Shelley, was drowned in the
sea near Leghorn in Italy, after the small boat in
which he was travelling capsized in a storm. Shelley’s
companion, a sailor named Edward Trelawny, rescued the
poet’s body and dragged it to the beach. Trelawny
scrounged around for flotsam and cremated Shelley’s
body, seemingly without realising that he was
violating a papal taboo. Then Trelawny collected the
poet’s ashes and took them to Rome, where he delivered
them to the British Consul, Joseph Severn.
As it happened, Joseph Severn — the same man who had
looked after the poet John Keats in his last illness —
had known Shelly, too, quite well. Only a few weeks
earlier Severn had had to send a soothing letter to
his own family in England, making it plain that, just
because he was friendly with men such as Shelly and
Byron who had so scandalized Britain’s society by
their poetry as well as by their decadent behaviour,
it did not mean that he, Severn, had actually become a
member of their fast set. Now Severn found himself
responsible for burying Shelley’s ashes.
From England, Shelley’s widow, Mary, wrote to say what
she wanted done. Mary was Shelley’s second wife. The
first one had committed suicide, after bearing Shelley
a son who had died in infancy, and been buried in the
Protestant cemetery in Rome. Now Mary Shelley wanted
her husband’s ashes buried alongside his son’s grave.
This, Severn discovered, was not possible. A year or
so earlier, the Papal Government had closed down that
cemetery because of overcrowding, and opened up a new
area for a Protestant graveyard. That was where
Shelley’s ashes were buried.
Then Severn, intent on carrying out Mary Shelley’s
behest faithfully, decided to exhume Shelley’s son’s
grave, remove the body and bury it in a grave
alongside that of Shelley. When he had the child’s
grave opened, however, he discovered to his horror
that it contained the skeleton of a fully grown man.
It seemed that the pressure on space in the old
cemetery had become so acute that its keepers had
taken to recycling grave-sites — digging up old graves
and throwing away the bodies so as to make room for
new graves.
Well, if 19th century Italy looked upon
Protestant-Christian graves as a desecration of their
soil, imagine the horror with which it must have
reacted to a request for a ritualistic Hindu
cremation!
It happened in 1870, in Florence, where an Indian
Maharaja had died. He was Rajaram, of Kolhapur; barely
20, brought up by carefully chosen British tutors. The
Raj’s keepers, keen to give Rajaram’s upbringing its
finishing touches, were giving him a guided tour of
Europe. Before they had set out, Kolhapur’s own
priests had made known their apprehensions about this
brazen defiance of a Hindu taboo against the crossing
of ‘The Black water’. But Rajaram himself, a willing
pupil of his English tutors had paid no heed. So far,
the tour had been a raging success. Rajaram had had
his audience with Queen Victoria, gone fox-hunting in
England, shot grouse in Scotland, seen a military
tattoo, attended horse-races, sat through an opera and
even polished his ballroom dancing. Florence came at
the tail end of the grand tour. There on November 30,
he died.
The city authorities were horrified at being asked to
permit a cremation. They passed the request to the
Council of Ministers in Rome. Luckily for Rajaram’s
harried attendants, the British Consul in Florence,
Sir Augustus Paget, came to their rescue. He must have
had to do some heroic wire-pulling and arm-twisting
among the Pope’s advisors. But that very night, the
Council of Ministers gave their OK. The next morning,
the body of Maharaja Rajaram was cremated on the banks
of the Arno.
Surely, the very first
Hindu cremation on Italian soil!
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