One of the highlights of this volume is the longform titled The Code of Manu. DVG firmly believed that (i) tradition and modernity are mutually complementary (ii) such a mutuality is a sine qua non for civilized progress and (iii) the frequently projected dichotomy between the two is gratuitous and regressive. To this end, he spent a considerable part of his literary labours to elucidate the message of classical texts from a contemporary perspective. A close study of this essay will pave the way for a better understanding of Manu-smṛti, a hallowed text that has unfortunately become the butt of much unfair criticism in recent decades.
DVG has inimitably explained the sweep of its contents and the appropriate way to approach it:
The Code of Manu is not simply a treatise of personal ethics and caste-duty and inter-caste relationships, but also the sourcebook of civil law and canon-law, a manual of political economy and government, a handbook of etiquette and social decorum and a digest of the Hindu philosophy of life. It is a book which, — if we would be just to it and derive guidance from it, — should engage the study of a body of scholars in jurisprudence and in sociology, in history and in philosophy, — two or three in each line addressing themselves to their particular aspect of the book and giving us a re-evaluation of it, at once sympathetic and independent, as viewed from the conditions of our time. It is a task that calls for both scholarship and imagination, both critical daring and insightful appreciation. (p. 179)
The greatness of Manusmrti is that, side by side with the antiquated, there is so much in it that belongs to all time and all mankind. It is this universal and enduring part of it that should chiefly engage our attention… (p. 182)
The central purpose of Manu-smṛti, according to DVG, is “taming the ego and inviting the altrui … the mind must be rid of the passions and predilections of the bodily self and trained to extend itself to the horizons of the spiritual self.” (p. 172)
Before expounding on the contents of Manu-smṛti DVG gives a list of Vedic postulates, the knowledge of which is essential for a proper understanding of the Smṛti text. He summarizes them in this fashion:
Their import is that the world and life in it are the work of God and therefore deserving of respectful service; that what is puzzling in world-life, — the mixture of the good and the bad as it seems to us, — is of the essence of the game (leela); that escape from the puzzle is in the practical realization of the all-ness of the atman and the comparative nothingness of the anatman; that this realization is made possible by the constant practice of dharma and the avoidance of adharma; and that the highest achievement for man is the attainment of that transcendental state of existence in which, all being merged in the One, there is none other to count and there is no possibility of conflict and want. (p. 176)
He holds dharma as the cornerstone of the treatise and defines it as “that conduct which is calculated to support life, to enrich it, to give meaning and value to life … It is the bridgeway connecting the temporal with the eternal, the finite with the infinite.” (pp. 177–78) Further, he posits that dharma is the point of distinction between Manu and other lawgivers of the world and observes: “[…] It would be manifestly incorrect to evaluate Manu by the same canons as are applied to Justinian or Gaius, Maine or Macaulay.” (p. 178)
It is precisely for insights like these that we should read and revisit DVG today, when it has become fashionable to draw all kinds of parallels between ancient Indian scholars and their Western counterparts.
Later in the essay DVG gives a hermeneutic summary of Manu-smṛti under the following heads: cosmogony, brahma-caryā, marriage and householdership, livelihood and conduct, purity, hermit life, kingship and its duties, judicatory, property rights, castes and their mutual duties, expiation of sin, philosophy for life. He quotes profusely from the original, translates the verses in rigorous prose and follows up with his own succinct but incisive analysis.
Manu is typically opposed by people who uphold the ideology of equality via legislation. DVG considers equality in its major manifestations: naturalistic, idealistic, political, social and economic, and proceeds to show that in none of these aspects can ‘absolute equality’ be achieved in the world. Here are his arguments:
Naturalistic. “The American Declaration of Independence has it that “all men are created equal.” Are they? Are there two human beings each equal to the other in all particulars of body and mind? Some qualities or attributes are, no doubt, common to all humans. But there are differences, of more or less, of better or worse, of higher or lower, – in all properties of body and of mind, between one man and another. Who made these differences? Nature. Nature is as full of inequalities as of equalities. Equality in human society is a state to be thoughtfully conceived and continuously sought after by man. It is one form of conquest of Nature.” (p. 199)
Idealistic. “The word equality implies the presence of two or more distinct persons. The idealistic view of existence does not see two or more at all. Since all is one to it, the question of equalizing cannot possibly arise. Of this idealistic type of equality, Manu is not an opponent, but an advocate.” (p. 200)
Political. “Political equality consists in the State and its institutions being the same to one and all. Laws should be uniform and their administration even-handed for all. This, in one word, is justice; and we have seen that justice is nothing else than dharma in one of its vital aspects … Concession to the weak and special help to the backward are not only not ruled out, but are actually called for by dharma or justice. Compassion is not external to justice, but an integral part of it.” (p. 200–2)
Social. “The social aspect of equality requires that there should be no hierarchical divisions or functional gradations among the various classes or groups in a community. Such a stratiform arrangement of society as professions and services is not a feature peculiar to India … The peculiarity of India’s case is that she recognized two facts of nature as unalterable and also as helpful to the formulating of a law for the good life: (i) natural variety in human types, and (ii) the law of heredity. It is here that Manu grates upon the ear of the modern … Heredity transmits genes; genes determine character and aptitude; character and aptitude constitute one’s fitness for a place in the service of the community. If each line and each level of service should be at its possible best, the surest way to it is to take advantage of facts of nature in framing our scheme of functions.” (p. 202)
Economic. “In the sense of economic status, equality requires that employer and employee in industry and trade should meet as on one and the same level for the bargaining about wages and other terms of service, or about a share in the profits earned. Frankly, this is a field not even contemplated by Manu.” (p. 206)
The way to improvement for a man suffering from the existence of an inequality is not in denouncing the position in which he finds himself or the scheme of things which has allotted to him that position, but in performing the duties of that position as well as he can. It should once for all be noted that in Manu’s scheme of social values, there is no service that can be called unworthy or mean. From the point of view of the general good, every station in life is as important as every other. Ill-paid or well-paid, pleasant or disagreeable, the station in which one finds oneself — from whatever reason — is the one station that should count in one’s eyes. It is the quality of service and not rank that matters. (p. 207)
While DVG candidly admits that there is much material in Manu that seems harsh and discriminatory to us today, he exhorts us to first study the treatise comprehensively, examine how ancient lawgivers in other parts of the world treated their subject, and be cautious to not throw the baby out with the bathwater. To quote his own words: “We of today are like the young boy who, at a rural fare, sits on the shoulders of his tall father and watches the tamasha. He naturally sees more than the father. But if he is a modest boy, he would remember that he could see nothing if the father set him on the ground.” (p. 209)
DVG’s analysis of the contemporary political scene was, as always, rapier-sharp in this period. For instance, he had grasped what the political party DMK (Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam) truly represents even when it was in a nascent stage. He repeatedly goaded the Congress to act against it but his appeal fell on deaf ears:
The high and the mighty in Madras were content to sniff when DMK was mentioned. They failed to apprehend fully its potentialities for mischief and persuaded themselves that it would die out if they only ignored it. It is also not unlikely that a few in the Congress camp secretly blessed it, hoping that the good offices of its leaders would be serviceable to them in manipulating the voters when the time came. The DMK is an instance of a movement starting as a protest against communalism and turning itself into a new species of rank communalism. There is in it an unmistakable warning to Mr. Nehru who seems to believe that angry expletives and high-toned exhortations can do away with long-established curves and angles in men’s psychology and character. A different kind of treatment is called for. DMK’s strength is in the Congress’s weakness. (p. 216)
He has this to say about the post-Independence bureaucratic system:
Our post-Independence governments are but a democratic facade to a bureaucracy denuded of its old-time virtues. In the public service, the one essential condition of well-doing for an official is that there is someone sure to punish or to reward; that that authority cannot be ignored with impugnity for long; that dodging it is impossible. Shifting ministries make this determining condition non-existent. Officials know that Ministers can be manipulated, — through party bosses, through pressure-groups, through election agents. An official who knows the keys on the political keyboard has no need to worry much as to his future. The public cause thus finds neither the bureaucratic administrator nor the democratic Minister to look up to. (pp. 217–18)
Given this sorry state of affairs, he emphasized the need for public-spirited, selfless young people with habits of scholarship to engage in social issues:
I am convinced, after having thought of the matter for so long to the best of my ability, that the worker for an institution like ours [Gokhale Institute of Public Affairs] in this country should be one who, earning his living elsewhere, would adopt this institution as a personal responsibility for his out-of-office hours, — even as his family is. This would mean, obviously, preparedness on his part to sacrifice a part of his leisure time – part of the time given to cinema or cards, part of the time given to chit-chat or lazing. I wouldn’t ask you to sacrifice that recreation or that rest which serves to refresh your mind and build up your strength. I ask for the sacrifice of only those inane and vapid ways of killing time which are given the seductive name of entertainment and are apt to make you forget duty. After all, when you come to think of it, is there no joy in the enthusiasm felt for a good public object? Is there no joy in the company of fellow-labourers striving for something disinterested and humane? I submit it is for us to learn to find the performance of duties adopted by ourselves, and not imposed upon by necessity or by external force. (p. 237)
Nadoja S R Ramaswamy introduced me to the nuances of editing and provided incredible insights into the personality and works of D V Gundappa. Shatavadhani R Ganesh breathes life into all my activities. Sandeep Balakrishna patiently polished my prose and offered valuable suggestions to shore up the observations in this essay. I owe an immense debt of gratitude to all of them.
Concluded.