A Brother of the Humble—Deenbandhu CF Andrews

The first quarter of the last century was the period of Indian renaissance and special souls had come to build it up. One more example could be that of Charles Freer Andrews (1871 – 1940), an English priest, educator and Indian freedom fighter who is best known as an associate of Mahatma Gandhi. He was elected President of the All India Trade Union in 1925 and 1927. “He accompanied Gandhi to the first Round Table Conference in London, helping him negotiate with the British government on matters of Indian autonomy and devolution. While working for Indian independence Andrews developed a dialogue between Christians and Hindus. He spent a lot of time at Santiniketan in conversation with the poet and philosopher, Rabindranath Tagore. He also supported the movement to ban the ‘untouchability of outcastes’. In 1925, he joined the famous Vaikkom Temple protests, and in 1933 assisted BR Ambedkar in formulating Dalit demands. He was now at the service of India, especially India’s poor, travelling, lecturing, writing, and lobbying on their behalf wherever they happened to be as a result of indentured labor policies, most notably in Fiji and in South Africa. He was always a ready and lucid writer, and his books include an autobiography, What I Owe to Christ (1932). In a period when Europeans and Indians often found personal relationships difficult, Andrews made many Indian friends. Early in his career he had been one of those who succeeded in having SK Rudra appointed principal of St Stephen’s College, and throughout his career he was a warm supporter of the Indian national movement. His friendships with Gandhi and Tagore were close and mutual. Gandhi, in particular, often cited Andrews as a model Christian missionary who never proselytized but was always prepared to serve the people of India.”

 

CF Andrews considered his coming to India as his second birth, and it took place on 20 March when in 1904 he first set his foot on the Indian soil. Soon he found an intimate friend in Tagore to whom he could write in an affable personal manner. In a letter to him written in 1914, he discloses: “I have often wondered what it was that made me love India with such an intense love. My mother’s love and devotion played a unique part in it. All that I saw and learned of Indian motherhood reminded me of my own mother. I have been able to leap to the recognition of Indian devotion because it is so like my mother’s. It has made India my home.”

 

But his heart was for the poor. As a believer, he always heard his Master telling him that anything he did for one of his brothers, the humble, went directly to him. He wrote a poem while in Simla in July 1915 describing the plight of the indentured coolie:

 

There he crouched,

Back and arms scarred, like a hunted thing,

Terror-stricken.

All within me surged towards him

While the tears rushed,

Then, a change.

Through his eyes I saw Thy glorious face—

Ah, the wonder!

Calm, unveiled in deathless beauty,

Lord of Sorrow.

 

The sentiments of CF Andrews in their essentiality remain valid even today. It pained him when Englishmen, he himself an Englishman, inflicted cruelty on the helpless. He would not approve if they kept India and Ireland as their vile subject using military force and repression. And by extension he would condemn if tomorrow India or Ireland were to use the same technique to hold power. “Independence can never be won if fifty million untouchables in India remain in a state of subjugation which amounts almost to serfdom.” He would not love India if India were to turn from the path of love and peace. What freedom is it if it is built on compulsions? That is the question on which we should ponder today when already India has won the political freedom. What CF Andrews was concerned with was not India throwing away the shackles of the British Empire, but winning the moral and spiritual side of true Independence. National deterioration is no doubt due to the foreign yoke on the neck of the nation; but more important and more difficult is to throw away the yoke of mental and spiritual slavery.

 

John Woodroffe and the Tantric System

John Woodroffe (1865-1936) could also perhaps deserve a mention in our list of those who came to serve India. Oxford educated in Civil Law, he became the Chief Justice of the Calcutta High Court in 1915. But his enduring contributions were in the fields of Indian Philosophy, Yoga, and the esoteric aspects of Tantric System in particular. It is here that he brought a clearer light dispelling the darkness that had covered the interpretations of the ancient Tantra or the Shakti scriptures. He studied the original Sanskrit texts and showed the clarity with which the works were written, that there was nothing obscurantist in the worship of the divine Shakti, Goddess of Power, Mahadevi. His was an attempt to give an authentic account of the Shakti Doctrine. Woodroffe remained a civil servant without indulging in politics but devoting himself entirely to the scriptural aspects. After his retirement from the services he went back to England and continued to study these subjects of great interest to him.

 

Let us pick up at random a passage from Woodroffe’s Śakti and Śakta, pp. 311-12:

 

A Mantra is not the same thing as prayer or self-dedication (Atma-nivedana). Prayer is conveyed in the words the Sadhaka chooses. Any set of words or letters is not a Mantra. Only that Mantra in which the Devata Las revealed His or Her Particular aspects can reveal that aspect, and is therefore the Mantra of that one of His or Her particular aspects. The relations of the letters (Varņa), whether vowel or consonant, Nada and Bindu, in a Mantra indicate tire appearance of. Devatā in different forms. Certain Vibhuti or aspects of the Devata are inherent in certain Varņa, but perfect Śakti does not appear in any but a whole Mantra. All letters are forms of the Śabda-Brahman, but only particular combinations of letters are particular form, just as the name of a particular being is made up of certain letters and not of any indiscriminately. The whole universe is Śakti and is pervaded by Śakti. Nada, Bindu, Varga are all forms of Śakti and combinations of these, and these combinations only are the Śabda corresponding to the Artha or forms of any particular Devatā. The gross lettered sound is, as explained later, the manifestation of sound in a more subtle form, and this again is the production of causal "sound" in its supreme (Parā) form. Mantras are manifestations of Kuņdalini which is a name for the Śabda-Brahman or Saguņa-Brahman in individual bodies. Produced Śabda is an aspect of the Jiva's vital Śakti. Kuņdalini is the Śakti who gives life to the Jiva. She it is who in the Mulādhāra Chakra (or basal bodily centre) is the cause of this sweet, indistinct and murmuring Dhavani which is compared to the humming of a black bee. Thence Śabda originates and, being first Parā, gradually manifests upwards as Paśyanti, Madhyamā, Vaikhari. Just as in outer space, waves of sound are produced by movements of air (Vāyu), so in the space within the Jiva’s body, waves of sound are said to be produced according to the movements of the vital air (Prāņavayu) and the process of in and out breathing. As the Svarupa of Kuņdali, in whom are all sounds, is Paramātmā, so the substance of all Mantra, Her manifestation is Consciousness (Cit) manifesting as letters and words. In fact, the letters of the Alphabet which are called Akshara are nothing but the Yantra of the Akshara or Imperishable Brahman. This is however only realized by the Sadhaka, with his Shakti generated by Sadhana is united with Mantra-śakti. Kuņdalini, who is extremely subtle, manifest in gross (Sthula) form in differing aspects as different Devatās. It is this gross form which is the Presiding Deity (Adhishţātri Devatā) of a Mantra, though it is the subtle (Sukşma) form at which all Sadhakas aim. Mantra and Devatā are thus one and in particular forms of Brahman as Śiva-Śakti. Therefore the Shastra says that they go to Hell who think that the Image (or “Idol” as it is commonly called) is but a stone and the Mantra merely letters of the alphabet. It is also ignorance of Shastric principle which supposes that Mantra is merely the name for the words in which one expresses what one has to say to the Divinity… A Mantra, on the contrary, consists of certain letters arranged in definite sequence of sounds of which the letters are the representative signs. To produce the designed effect, the Mantra must be intoned in the proper way, according to both sound (Varņa) and rhythm (Svara). For these reasons, a Mantra when translated ceases to be such, and becomes a mere word or sentence.

 

This is something solid, with deep understanding of things occult and spiritual. It is a pity that the modern mind has no inclination and capacity to enter into these rich worlds that exist within and around us. Not only this lack of faculty and competence; there is on the other hand utter disregard for such matters, nay, there is arrogance to pooh-pooh them. It should be most disappointing when desultory or disparaging, in fact casual comments are made with respect to the spiritual writings of accomplished Yogis and Siddhas. We have an example of it in The Lives of Sri Aurobindo when its author considers Savitri as a “fictional creation”, when the Mother herself called it a “supreme revelation of Sri Aurobindo”, it based on his experiences and realisations. The strangest, and the saddest as well as the cruelest paradox is, the author of the Lives claims himself to be practitioner of the Yoga given by Sri Aurobindo.

 

The first Quarter of the Twentieth Century

But coming back to our theme, we perceive that the first quarter of the twentieth century which brought the sense of independence and nobility to the soul of India showed itself in many ways of life also. Let us briefly see these, for instance, in the field of science.

 

It is absolutely remarkable that during the decade 1920-39 contributions to science of a fundamental nature were made by the Indian physicists. And these were made when the British Rule was bent upon stifling the national spirit. This period can boast of works of Meghnad Saha, Satyendranath Bose, CV Raman and S Chandrashekhar. Saha’s Ionisation Formula, Bose’s Statistics, Raman Effect about the Scattering of Light, Chandrashekhar Limit related to Electron-Degeneracy Pressure acting against gravitational collapse of a star. This is pure gold doing proud to India. yet perhaps this gold is not as bright as the Western European gold of the time. There Quantum Mechanics was discovered, its relativistic formulation brought to our laboratory the world of anti-matter, the wave-particle duality deepened into microscopic domain of matter, causality started getting challenged if not replaced, the universe began to expand and our origins in the Big Bang made their hesitant appearance. In this rush of epoch-making contributions India participated if at all only in a distant way and could hardly give any sense of new direction to the developments. Yet in the socio-political backdrop of the time whatever was done had its own significance. The spirit of renaissance could be discerned in several walks of life. We may look at it by acquainting ourselves, in howsoever a cursory manner it is, with some of the pioneers of science. The intuitive mind of Bengal and the solid classical mind of the South were the main contributors initiating a new activity in the country. Let us present an example or two of them just to get a rapid glimpse of the best of the time we had.

 

Meghnad Saha was born on 6 October 1893 not in a very rich family and his early education was not without financial difficulties. In 1911 he joined the Presidency College in Calcutta to do his BSc in physics. Satyendranath Bose was his classmate and, if Mahalanobnis was one year senior to him, Netaji Bose was junior by a year. While in college Saha came in contact with Bhaga Jatin, but he did not get much involved with the revolutionary activities. With the encouragement received from Sir Ashutosh Mukherjee Saha, and also Satyendranath Bose, became lecturers in Calcutta University. Here they “both began to pick up problems, solve them and publish papers. While they published independently, they also collaborated on one paper. And in the year 1920, that is roughly four years after he started his career, Saha published a paper that became a turning point in life.” Saha himself writes about the genesis of the formula that now bears his name: “It was while pondering over the problems of astrophysics and teaching thermodynamics and spectroscopy to the MSc classes that the theory of thermal ionisation took a definite shape in my mind in 1919. I was a regular reader of German journals… and in the course of these studies… I came across a paper explaining the high ionisation in stars due to high temperatures… I saw at once the importance of introducing the value of the ionisation potential in the formula.” By any measure this must be considered as a competent professional achievement that turned a new leaf in stellar observations. One may not be using the Saha formula much these days, and things have gone far beyond 1920, but the fact that it provided a new manner of looking at the stellar spectra has its own deeper significance. The derivation of the formula by using the principle first obtained by Fowler in 1923 added an extra term that took care of multiple ionisations. This was essentially in the theoretical field.

 

But later Saha did also carry out some experimental work in physics, when the climate of work was practically absent in the India of those days. Paucity of funds and the lack of the kind of atmosphere that is needed to do practical things contributed their great share. He could have perhaps gone abroad and devoted himself to research with all the facilities that were available there.  But those were also the days when another spirit inspired the people of the country. The spirit of Indian renaissance was strong and Saha had lent himself to its idealism.

 

Apart from teaching physics Saha was connected with several other aspects of importance for the country’s growth in science. Two of these may be briefly mentioned here; these were rationalisation of calendars based on a scientific approach and the study of rivers. In highbrow science the study of shifts of the rivers across lands and plains may not get much recognition but it constitutes greatly in the geo-economic factors that govern societies and civilisations. Saha was aware of it and he took keen interest in looking into these problems. Large-scale drifts in rivers do take place over a period of time and, in the case of Punjab, there is as if constant fight between the desert and river valleys. This can have far-reaching consequences. Thus about Harappa and Mohenjodaro he says: “…a large number of cities have been found buried under the sands of Sind and Rajaputana. These could not have existed unless there was more plentiful supply of water in these regions 5000 years ago than is to be found now… The lower course of Saraswati ran dry during Vedic times and its course is marked by a dry channel. The other rivers have moved away generally to the West.” The disappearance of Pataliputra, the seat of the Magadhan Empire, has similar causes. The Damodar Valley Project proved a mess by not understanding the Physics of Rivers. Similarly, to the plethora of calendars that were present in India he provided a rationalised basis, for their reformation had become imperative. But Saha’s calendar remained unaccepted because religious feelings entered into the picture. His plea was to follow the Chinese maxim: “Religions are many but Reason is one.” He also added that world harmony can be promoted only by sweet reasonableness. Some chance!

 

About the discovery of nuclear fission Saha gave a lecture at the Indian Physical Society in March 1941 and said the following: “… a process may be discovered which would render the reactions to proceed with explosive violence… A tablet of U235, no more than a homeopathic globule in size, may blow off a mighty Super Dreadnought [a large battleship of those days]—a feat which can at the present time be performed only by a torpedo carrying several tons of explosives...” But unlike the American scientists who in 1939 had heard the fission report from Bohr, none in India set up an experiment to verify the findings. Saha’s socialistic ideas about industrial developments found concurrence in Netaji Subhash Bose’s when as a President of the Indian National Congress in 1938 he told the scientist: “We can at best determine whether this revolution, that is industrial, will be a comparatively gradual one, as in Great Britain, or a forced march as in Soviet Russia. I am afraid that it has to be a forced march in this country.” This may be true to some extent in the case of established industrial activities, but in matters of scientific and technological developments “forced march” has always frustration laid in it. The commerce-driven project has different parameters of operation than a creative-innovative enterprise where exceptional and highly individualistic minds are concerned. Saha looked at India from a scientist’s point of view which has its own limitations.

 

The contributions of leaders of science like Homi Bhabha, Meghnad Saha, Shanti Sarup Bhatanagar, Satyendra Bose were undoubtedly seminal in nature, yet at times one wonders whether they were actually doing or promoting Indian science at all. They were doing science in India no doubt, but it was essentially the European science they were doing. The problems they were engaged with, and they were professionally high-class problems, were right on the front-line; yet they were set neither in the over-all Indian context nor in the Indian perspective. Maybe here and there we have the Indian touch but perhaps in its totality there is very little which is radically different from the Western approach towards science. Nor do the celebrated achievements of Har Gobind Khorana or Abdus Salam or S Chandrasekhar or in our days and another field Amartya Sen in foreign lands possess that truer stamp of the sub-continental authenticity, the sub-continental genius. When we think of Jagadish Chandra Bose or Chandrasekhar Venkata Raman or Srinivasa Ramanujan we at once get another feeling and it is that which we have to discern and promote. But we shall talk about it in another context. But what we generally notice in them is the fact that, they all essentially did the Western science, be it in India or abroad.

 

It may be appropriate to remember here what, about four decades ago, Satyendra Bose wondered at: “It is a perpetual challenge to the Indian genius as to how, even though the country is endowed with such natural resources, even though the country has had such a brilliant history, it continues to remain third rate in spite of so many resources and so much manpower.” The answer perhaps lies in the lack of organised disciplined effort. It is true in all the fields of activity and not necessarily in science alone where it is generally complained that we do not have adequate funds to carry out research work. Even in a game of cards such as Bridge we do not seem to have enough talent. If the U.S., France and Italy occupy the top positions in the world, India stands nowhere. We know too well the story of our cricket and hockey. Perhaps we have not really discovered our own identity. We have not discovered ourselves. In that respect pioneers like Bhabha contributed greatly to the country,—perhaps because he had a typical Western approach in seeing and doing things. He certainly brought big science to India.

 

Let us go back a little in time and see the work of the mathematical wizard Ramanujan who belonged to another class of those Indians who came to do special work in some specialized field. And amazing were his contributions! Born on 22 December 1887 in Tamil Nadu into an average-income Brahmin family, the genius rose to great heights by the power of his intellect, perhaps more truly than that by the faculty of intuition which came to him as a gift from the village deity, Goddess Namakkal, eighty miles west of Ramanujan’s Kumbhakonam. Later about this genius, his mentor GH Hardy would say: “India has produced many talented mathematicians in recent years, a number of whom have come to Cambridge and attained academical distinction. They will be the first to recognize that Mr Ramanujan’s work is of a different category.” The gift surely had come from the Vaishnava Goddess herself. Young Ramanujan was essentially brought up by his mother, learning from her about tradition and Puranas, as a Brahmin boy would be.

 

In the school he was a brilliant student but often neglected subjects other than mathematics. When he was sixteen, he came across a book on mathematics with a collection of some five thousand theorems. Next year he started tackling difficult problems which had remained unanswered for a long time. After graduating in 1904, he had to seek a job to maintain the family. But his interest in mathematics continued and wrote a 17-page paper on Bernoulli’s numbers. The editor of the journal, Narayan Iyengar, noted: “Ramanujan’s methods were so terse and novel and his presentation so lacking in clearness and precision, that the ordinary mathematical reader… could hardly follow him.” His papers were riddles with “holes”. Soon another turn took in his life, when some of the prominent British mathematicians were wonderstruck by his genius. Ramanujan was now in Cambridge, in 1914, and stayed there for about five years. In March 1916 he was awarded a BA degree by research (later named as PhD) for his work on Highly Composite Numbers (numbers with a large number of factors). Hardy remarked that this was one of the most unusual papers and showed its author’s extraordinary ingenuity. In 1918 he had the unique distinction of being elected as a Fellow of the Royal Society, the second from India; this was for his work on Elliptic Functions.

 

But Ramajunan’s was a highly one-sided life—of mathematics only. Hardy tried to play a delicate role in it, of giving to his raw genius an authentic professional character and at the same time not interrupting with the inspiration he received directly from the World of Mathematics. Ramanujan’s health continued to worsen with a severe vitamin deficiency. Soon he was back in India and died in 1919 at the age of 32.

 

“Ramanujan has been described as a person with a somewhat shy and quiet disposition, a dignified man with pleasant manners. He lived a rather Spartan life while at Cambridge. Ramanujan's first Indian biographers describe him as rigorously orthodox. Ramanujan credited his acumen to his family Goddess, Namagiri, and looked to her for inspiration in his work. He often said, ‘An equation for me has no meaning, unless it represents a thought of God.’ "

 

In his earlier years Ramanujan worked almost in isolation when he recorded most of his mathematical discoveries, but without proofs. Probably due to shortage of paper in those days he had worked them out on the slate and just put them in the notebooks. “Although many of his results were already found in the literature, most were not. Almost a decade after Ramanujan's death in 1920, GN Watson and BM Wilson began to edit Ramanujan's notebooks, but they never completed the task. A photostat edition, with no editing, was published by the Tata Institute of Fundamental Research in Bombay in 1957.” It could also be that he recorded the results only out of personal interest and not for publication. Or could it be that these were directly revealed to him? Who knows? One thing however is certain: the role of Namakkal in his life. We might understand what a magician has done; but the process by which he does it always remains to us incomprehensible. There was some opening in Ramanujan and through it rushed in the knowledge, perhaps he being unaware of its hidden fount.

 

Ramanujan lived a short life and also suffered a lot—like Shelley falling on the thorns of life and bleeding. It is said that the English poet was an involutionary being who had come here in the world of birth to do a certain work. Could the same be spoken of Ramanujan? A special being had come to do a special work, one who found Indian soil suitable for him. “During our generation no more romantic personality than that of Srinivasa Ramanujan has moved across the field of mathematical interest,” said a prominent American mathematician Robert Carmichael in 1932. The phrase “romantic personality” is striking although in a different connotation.

 

Sir Syed Ahmed Khan and the Muslim Identity

In the context of this Indian renaissance, it is pertinent to examine why nothing really outstanding or worthwhile came out of the Muslim community, a community that constitutes a vast section of Indian population. Did renaissance not touch it? and if so the question is, why? what could be its causes? Why is it that we don’t see any Muslim names, for instance, in the field of science of those days? This may not be a very palatable subject, but perhaps it is a legitimate inquiry. There were deeper psycho-historical factors also, of the loss of the Muslim Rule over India. One early important figure that comes to our mind is that of Sir Syed Ahmed Khan. And it should also be noted that he was suspicious of the Indian Independence Movement itself. The genesis of the suspicion lay in the 1867 Hindi-Urdu controversy when he became a leading political voice in the Hindi-Muslim belt of the then United Provinces. For him Urdu was the lingua franca of the land having been developed by the erstwhile Muslim Rulers. But that is going back to history rather than building new history. If the revival of a community is an aspect of a reaction, then the chances of it surviving are dim. This is a law which is universal and is applicable to all such self-centred groups or creeds or doctrines or political formulations. Whatever future was planned or envisioned by Sir Syed was not on the principles of the future that is to come but on things that have gone into the past, that have lost their life-breath. In fact, there has to be also the practicality of the cherished ideal. If the idea is to revive the Muslim glory, which is quite valid for him, then that can happen only by recognizing the presence of a very large community with other sets of ideas and ideals, and imposition of any kind is bound to generate conflicts and clashes. Ditto is true for the Hindu ambition if it does not recognize the march of the time-spirit towards a higher collective synthesis. The resolution should lie in a harmonious association that transcends all limitations. But, unfortunately, removal of the Hindu-Muslim divide at a deeper psychological level based on the swabhāva or soul-nature of each had remained unattempted in these politically motivated attempts. This was rather regrettable. The same would hold good even today if there has to be reformulation of unity in the subcontinent. Political unity based on the western theories of nations is not going to solve the problem. It has to go at the deeper level recognizing the character of each of the constituents.

 

Sir Syed was essentially concerned with the lot of the Muslims in India and was convinced about the necessity of liberal education being given to them. He began working as an educator, founded the Scientific Society of Aligarh, the first scientific association of its kind in India along the lines of Royal Society, and assembled Muslim scholars from different parts of the country. He started educational and scientific activities with Urdu as the medium of expression. A lot of creative energy was thus invested rather spent in this effort instead of allowing the spirit its free articulation. The demand for Hindi was considered by him as wearing down of Muslim culture that dominated the country during the Moghal era. In order to strengthen his strategy, he started befriending the English rulers by the token of ‘our enemy’s enemy is our friend’. Urdu Defence Association, Osmania University in Hyderabad, and such similar organizations sprang up in quick succession. This provoked further the cultural conflict leading to communal tensions.

 

Sir Syed Ahmad Khan was born on 17 October 1817, tracing his lineage to the Moghal court. “As a boy he learnt swimming and archery, which were favorite sports of the well-to-do class in those days. He learnt to read the Quran under a female teacher at his home. After this, he was put in the charge of Maulvi Hamid-ud-Din, the first of his private tutors. Having completed a course in Persian and Arabic, he took to the study of mathematics, which was a favorite subject of the maternal side of his family. He later became interested in medicine and studied some well-known books on the subject. However, he soon gave it up without completing the full course.”

 

Educational field was his main occupation to improve the awareness of the Muslims. “He was invited to attend the first session of the Indian National Congress and to join the organization but he refused to accept the offer. He also asked the Muslims to keep themselves away from the Congress and predicted that the party would prove to be a pure Hindu party in the times to come. By establishing the Muhammadan Educational Conference, he provided Muslims with a platform on which he could discuss their political problems. Sir Syed is known as the founder of Two-Nation Theory in the modern era.” The seeds of Partition were sown that long ago and in the course of time they became weighty—and pernicious also.

 

“In the beginning of 1898 Sir Syed started keeping abnormally quiet. For hours he would not utter a word to friends who visited him. Medical aid proved ineffective. His condition became critical on 24th of March. On the morning of March 27, a severe headache further worsened it. He expired the same evening. He was buried the following afternoon in the compound of the Mosque of Aligarh College.”

 

If Sir Syed Ahmed Khan identified himself with the Muslim community it was to regain the lost glory of the Muslim past, of the couple of preceding centuries. But he never identified himself with India with all its vast diversity, never thought of synthesis. Yet the question remains: why we didn’t have any outstanding contributions from this strong and vibrant community in the various fields of activities except perhaps music, fields such as science as we have briefly seen here? why it remained untouched by renaissance? why it did not give the call: awake, arise, and build up the future in the spirit's glory of the future?