There have been debates on the apt metaphor to describe the mind-boggling heterogeneity of religions, cults, cultures and languages in India. Inheriting this legacy, Karnataka’s culture has also been described using suggestive metaphors.
The most resonant has been that of a ‘koudi’, a homemade quilt, stitching together multicoloured pieces of old cloth. Warm, homely and multicoloured — this has been the preferred metaphor to describe Karnataka’s culture.
There has also been a literary-critical tradition of selecting aphoristic statements from canonical Kannada texts in support of the claim that this culture has been characterised by tolerance of many faiths, world views and lifestyles. The ninth-century Kavirajamarga asking, “Isn’t it golden to tolerate other religions and thoughts?”; Pampa, the first great poet (tenth century), saying, “Isn’t the human race one?”; Kuvempu propagating the creed of Vishwamanava (universal man) — these are held up to defend the idea of Karnataka as a liberal, tolerant, multi-cultural space.
On the other hand, polemical works, inscriptions and legends also speak of continuous, often violent strife between major religions and royal interventions to control religion-centric violence. There are also harsh invectives against rival religions in 12th-century works such as Samaya Pareekshe and Dharmamrutha, and even in some vachanas.
What then, is the historical truth? More importantly, was religious tolerance a merely pragmatic policy of managing people of diverse faiths? Was it only a case of co-existence without much of a genuine inter-faith dialogue? Is the idea of a liberal culture a later-day reconstruction?
Answers to these questions need to be sought not in the archival, official histories but in the oral folk traditions, myths, legends and rituals which provide an alternative perspective — of a lived history of syncretic cults, hybrid practices, shared sacred places and saints. These speak of a robust syncretism, a mingling of faiths and practices. Interestingly, though some of the Sufis and saints found royal patronage, most others asserted their independence and distrust of power and wealth.
Syncretic faiths
Syncretic cults and religious practices had strong roots in rural society and among the illiterate and deprived caste groups. For instance, most places in Kalyana Karnataka and north Karnataka have rich oral traditions of the saints and mystics whose names themselves reflect their syncretic faiths. For example, Mouneshwra of Thinthani is also known as Mounuddeen. In the Savalagi Shivalingeshwara matha, dostaras are recited to Muslim disciples and saints.
Until the recent polarisation of Karnataka society, the Baba Budan Giri shrine was known as Guru Dattatreya Swami Baba Budan Giri Dargah. The syncretism is seen in the non-elite practices of the worship of the saints’ tombs, celebration of the annual Urs and in the fact that for many centuries, people of different religions and castes would make a pilgrimage to the dargahs.
Shishunal Sharif was a Muslim mystic who was the disciple of Guru Govinda Bhatta, a Brahmin. Legends say that Sharif was his spiritual son and he was willing to perform his Upanayana. The astonishing fact of Karnataka’s history is the tradition of the tatwapadakaras, composers of philosophical songs; ordinary men and women who practised mysticism and composed songs which deal with philosophical themes in the spoken, rural Kannada idiom. Over 40 volumes of these songs have been published recently. The tatwapadakara tradition is a living tradition. They use a hybrid idiom mixing Kannada and spoken Urdu, integrating Hindu and Islamic elements.
Renowned Kannada scholar Rahamath Tarikere has done extensive field work and research on Sufism in Karnataka and also on the Gurupantha, Shakta Pantha and Muharram rituals and literature. His works establish beyond doubt that syncretic cults and culture were the warp and woof of the lives of ordinary people. The roots of this culture can be traced to non-Vedic philosophical religious systems such as Natha, Aaroodha and Shakta.
Mystical traditions
Practitioners of the mystical traditions rejected the hierarchies of varna and caste, and were sceptical about hegemonic religions. At times, they spoke and wrote using a mystical idiom with its own repertory of complex images and metaphors. This idiom has been called ‘sandhya bhasha’, ‘ulatbhasha’ and ‘bedagu’. It was ubiquitous in the mystical traditions across India.
Allama and many Vachanakaras also wrote in the bedagu mode. However, the preferred mode was to describe mystical experiences and metaphysical ideas by employing a local, colloquial idiom. In the syncretic traditions, composers drew on a repertory comprising the epics, Hindu puranas and non-Vedic traditions such as Tantra and Shakta, and in the case of the Sufis, words and metaphors from the Islamic traditions. Homely, everyday images and metaphors are the major vehicles of communication.
Satish Saberwal rightly suggests that if we compare the hierarchical Indian society to a pyramid, it is the non-elite ordinary communities constituting the base that practised syncretism. The elite classes adhered to the hegemonic notions of purity and tradition. Most of the Sufi poets were considered heretics by the orthodox sections. Large sections of the underprivileged who went through all forms of exploitation found solace in visiting the dargahs and sacred places associated with popular saints.
Syncretism was also natural to them because as labourers and artisans they had to live with fellow citizens practising different faiths. The dargahs, khanakhas and the places where the saints lived were also platforms where prayers and religious discourses were accessible to all. Interestingly, many of the popular saints were believed to return to these communities as daiva (holy spirits who are worshipped) to provide advice and relief to the needy. As Purushothama Bilimale argues in a different context, some of the spirits who appeared in the Kola rituals were of Muslim origin.
In order to fully understand the actual history of syncretism in Karnataka, communalised histories and rigid notions of purity and tradition have to be eschewed. The present context of polarisation and intolerance is not conducive to such scholarship.