Rama - The story of a history
A story that belongs to all
The arguments are endless. Every scholar has his or her own reason(s) to believe in his or her own conclusion. It has to be admitted that despite the fluctuations in the findings as far as the period to which the epics belong, every single one of them has worked sincerely and extremely hard – one has to say that they are superhuman efforts – before he or she has come out with the results. Our purpose is not to question their efforts. Nonetheless, the widely varying conclusions themselves go to prove that it is not possible to arrive at a more convincing and readily acceptable view. Because, one has necessarily to base his or her conclusions on a basic premise, which always turns out to be an assumption. That is to say, their conclusions would be right only if the assumption on which the structure of their arguments is based is accurate. And it is not possible, considering the circumstances and the hoary past to which these works belong, to start working without a basic assumption, which may or may not be close to what can be accepted as ‘accurate’.
That seems to be an impossible task. But it is agreed by almost all, Westerners as well as Indians, that the Uttara Kanda was a later addition. But the question of the time during which it was added evades all understanding and almost every conclusion leaves at least a question or two unanswered. That is what we have seen in our earlier
instalments.
One thing is very clear. Some of the scholars at least have one kind of an agenda or the other behind their efforts. Everyone, almost everyone, I should say, places the Ramayana close to the Vedic period on considerations of the language employed. But then, the ascertaining of the period of the Vedas itself is susceptible to subjective considerations in many instances. As Winternitz puts it,
“When Indian literature became first known in the West, people were inclined to ascribe a hoary age to every literary work hailing from India. They used to look upon India as something like the cradle of mankind, or at least of human civilisation. The better, however, we became acquainted with Indian literature, the more this view had to be given up, and scholars became cautious and suspicious and <b> a tendency arose, to make everything as late as possible.</b>* Indians, on the other hand, have always had a sentimental inclination, to consider their most important woks of literature, above all the Vedas, as immensely old. According to the orthodox Brahmanical view, indeed, the Veda has been created at the beginning of the world and is no human work at all. The historian has to abandon this view, and he has to free himself from all preconceived opinions and inclinations.” (M. Winternitz, ‘Some Problems of Indian Literature’) (* ‘bold’ is mine)
In the context of the ‘fixation’ of a timeframe for the ancient scriptures, what he says speaks volumes. “I, for my part, do not understand why some Western scholars are so anxious to make the hymns of the
Rigveda and the civilisation which is reflected in them so very much later than Babylonian and Egyptian culture. Nor do I understand why Indians should think that it adds anything to, or detracts anything from the
value of the most beautiful hymns of the Rigveda or the deepest passages of the Upanishads according as they are believed to be a thousand or five hundred years older or later.” (Ibid)
That does not exclude Max Müller as well, says Winternitz. “Now it was a mere guess on the part of Max Müller when he gave the dates 600 to 200 BC for the origin of the Sutra Literature. And the assumption of 200 years for each of the periods in the development of the Veda was quite arbitrary. Instead of 200 years he might just as well have said 300 or 400 years. Max Müller himself did not wish to say more than that our Rgveda-Samhita must have been completed <i>at least</i> about 1000 BC.” (Ibid)
What he says about the results of these calculations is even more thought-provoking. “And yet, strange to say, although the foundation on which Max Müller’s calculations were based, was so purely hypothetical and arbitrary, it had become a habit among scholars for a long time, to speak of 1200 to 1000 BC as the date of the Rgveda, which Max Müller was said to have established.” (Ibid)
So far for the historicity of the Ramayana – and Mahabharata as well. I go with M R Yardi, another great Indian researcher of the ancient Sanskrit literature and scriptures, who says, “Valmiki has portrayed Rama as a moral hero. In him we had a king, who, essentially human, triumphed over his human frailties and strictly observed the rules of the moral code
(aacharadharma). His just and benevolent rule is celebrated as the Ramarajya, in which all sections of the public enjoyed prosperity, health and happiness. Because of his superhuman qualities, Rama has enthroned himself in human hearts and become the symbol of human culture.” (M. R. Yardi, Epilogue of Ramayana)
True. Had it not been for this fact, there cannot be a Buddha Ramayana, a Jain Ramayana, a Thai Ramayana, a Laos Ramayana and many more. Minoru Hara speaks of a Japanese version of the Ramayana, in ‘The Ramayana Tradition in Asia,’ edited by Sri V Raghavan. The story of Rama has become so endeared to mankind that every section and almost every nation of Asia has accepted him as their own hero, versions of course varying, while the core remaining the same. The East claims him as his own, while the West says that the story belongs to mankind. “For the history of the literary treasures of ancient India,” says Winternitz, “appears to us only as part and parcel of the history of man. In this sense, Indian literature is as much ours as it is yours. The ideas and thoughts of great men belong to mankind, and not to any one country or nation only.” (Winternitz, Some Problems of Indian Literature)
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