Author: Claude Arpi
Publication: Rediff on Net
Date: March 12, 2001
In 1965, André Malraux, the
French philosopher, author and minister for culture, told an audience at
Benares Hindu University about a conversation he had had with Jawaharlal
Nehru. The French writer had asked the Indian prime minister,
"What, according to you, is the reason Buddhism was lost to India, after
India had given Buddhism to the world?" Nehru did not have an immediate
answer, but later said he thought India had gradually made Buddha into
one its gods and this had led to the disappearance of Buddhism from India.
Today, though, it is an accepted
historical fact that the main cause for the disappearance of Buddhism in
the sub-continent is the destruction of the great viharas by the Muslim
invaders. The fact that Buddhist life was concentrated in these
great centres of learning made it an easy prey for the hordes coming in
from Afghanistan and Central Asia. The decline of Buddhism
had nothing to do with the 'deification' of Buddha; this, in fact, indirectly
bequeathed humanity with some of the most marvellous art pieces that Malraux
loved so much.
The historian R C Majumdar quite
rightly wrote: "Individuals, or even small sects, directly or indirectly
professing the religion, might be found in the country for centuries to
come and may be said to exist even now, but Buddhism as a force in society
vanished from India since 1200 AD never to return."
A Tibetan monk, Dharmasvamin, who
visited Nalanda in 1235 AD leaves us a very sad picture of the plains of
Bihar where the Buddha had earlier propagated his message of compassion
and non-violence. He saw only destruction at Nalanda and could
not recover a single manuscript from the once-rich library.
Finally, he met an old monk in his nineties who could teach him some Sanskrit.
Dharmasvamin studied for some time with the old monk and, on hearing that
the Muslim troops were approaching again, he carried his old master on
his shoulders to safety until the raiders had gone. It is this
enduring image that symbolises the end of an era.
One would have thought the barbarian
destruction of the remnants of a rich culture could not happen again in
this new millennium. But, for the past couple of weeks, we
have seen similar events occurring all over again in Afghanistan, where
the Taleban mullahs have decreed that all "idols of the infidels" should
disappear. The most famous amongst these 'false gods' are the
giant statues of the Buddha in Bamiyan, in central Afghanistan.
"Now that we are destroying false
idols, the world has made a drama out of it. The Muslims in
the world, particularly the Afghan Muslims, should use their common sense,"
declared Taleban chief Mulla Muhammad Omar. He tried to prove
his common sense by saying: "I would like to ask you -- do you prefer to
be called statue-destroyers or statue-sellers?" Ordinary human beings would
find it difficult to see the logic of the fanatic Afghan leader.
Afghanistan was not always like
that.
I remember with nostalgia when,
as a young student, I was travelling in Afghanistan. At that
time, all the backpackers knew the Afghans were 'cool guys.' Yes, they
were Muslims -- in fact, we could see them going on Friday to the exquisite
blue mosques of Herat or Mazar-il-Charief -- but never before a cup of
light green tea was poured from their ever-smoking samovars.
I also remember being told in Kabul
that the 'coolest' place in this extraordinarily peaceful country was one
day away by bus from the capital. All those who have visited
Afghanistan will remember their colourful buses. I could not
stop clicking the unbelievably detailed kitsch frescos decorating the Afghan
vehicles. But these buses only had a few seats and most of
the travellers -- including sheep, chickens and human beings -- had to
sit on a sort of wooden platform. If you were not happy with
this arrangement or were uncomfortable, you always had the choice to climb
on to the roof and negotiate with your fellow travellers for a seat on
some stuffed bags.
One day, I decided to take the plunge
and, after a difficult journey, verging on torture for French buttocks,
I reached Bamiyan at sunset. It was magical. At
the end of the valley stood two unbelievable statues of the Buddha.
Though some fanatics had disfigured them, the Buddhas's bodies were so
majestic, the proportions so perfect, that it seemed to me a mirage after
the nightmarish bus journey.
The next day I visited the site
of the statues and I climbed to that head of the Buddha by way of several
stairs and galleries. There were still hundreds of caves where,
once upon a time, bikhshus had meditated on the great suffering of this
world and the way to alleviate it.
Today, 30 years later, Bamiyan reamains
-- thanks to the statues -- the most stunning and peaceful place I have
ever seen. And, today, those statues do not exist anymore!
It was reported on March 8 that, using 'large amounts of explosives,' the
Taleban militia had managed to destroy the top parts of the statues.
One question comes to mind, "Why
this senseless destruction?" Can a religion which is supposed to take its
followers to God, direct them to destroy something which, in a way, represents
the pinnacle of humanity's art and genius?
A few years ago, I was working on
a book on the Karma Of Tibet and, in this connection, I nterviewed a respected
Tibetan lama. He was explaining to me what he and his fellow
countrymen had to go through in Tibet during the Cultural Revolution and
he kept repeating, "Why this destruction? Why this destruction?" His question
remains unanswered till today.
Another image comes to my mind:
teenaged Red Guards sent by Mao Zedong entering in the house of Lui Shaoqi,
the President of the People's Republic of China and destroying every single
art object after having insulted and beaten him. And all this
for what? Because a leader (Mao) wanted to remain in power and could not
accept another direction for Red China. In the process, several
million Chinese and Tibetans died, a generation was traumatised forever.
In many ways, the events in China
between 1966 and 1976 are similar to what is happening in Afghanistan today.
The triggering of the Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution by Mao had
nothing to do with the proletariat. Yet Mao, after the catastrophic
Great Leap Forward, had to re-establish his supremacy over Lui Shaoqi and
Deng Xiaoping, his rivals in the politburo. To achieve his
political goals, he realised that the most convenient (and efficient) way
was to use a mad ideology and the most extreme elements. His
wife, Jiang Qing, and her colleagues (the Gang of Four) were promoted as
cultural tsars. They had only one motto: to wipe out a thousand
year old culture and replace it by a 'proletarian' one.
Today, according to some reports,
Afghanistan is witnessing a power struggle between the more moderate factions
-- which would be happy to hand over Osama bin Laden, resume contact with
the rest of the world and eventually start rebuilding Afghanistan -- and
Omar's faction which, like Mao 35 years ago, unleashed terror to stick
to power. It was recently reported that a fight broke out between
the different factions during a meeting to decide on bin Laden's fate.
One should not forget that, when
the Taleban took over the Bamiyan valley from the Northern Alliance in
1997, they had threatened to destroy the statues. Later, the
same Mullah Omar vowed to safeguard them. Today, he has destroyed
them.
One must also keep in mind Bamiyan's
strategic location; it controls the way to the north. Located
on the east-west road along the central mountain range which divides the
country, the valley is of extreme strategic importance, which explains
why, every spring, the Northern Alliance forces try to regain control of
the valley.
Symbolically, having destroyed the
Buddhas as well as statues of the saints of the local Islamic sects (as
reported in the Russian press), the extremists led by Omar can restate
their supremacy by thwarting every possibility of opening negotiations
with the West.
Some commentators wrote that, because
the Taleban leadership had not been accepted by the international community,
they had no alternative but to destroy the statues to attract the world's
attention (In much the same way, Vaijaylakshmi Pandit had declared in the
UN in November, 1950, that communist China was forced to invade Tibet because
the Western powers did not accept them in the UN). This is
nothing if not nonsense. It is probably the other way around:
because a section of the Talebans want to reintegrate into the international
community that the extremists have acted swiftly to stop them.
But, like in China, extremist views
cannot last for long. The reasonable elements are bound to
return. After Mao's death, for example, Deng returned to power
with his theory, "It does not matter if a cat is white or black as long
as it catches mice." However, for the Afghan nation and for humanity as
a whole, something will be lost for ever.
Was this necessary?