Novel Green

Defamation ..Libel

Definitions of Defamation of Character, Libel, and Slander Share Flipboard Email A man with an empty speech bubble facing a woman with an empty speech bubble Malte Mueller / Getty Images by Robert Longley Updated September 24, 2018 “Defamation of character” is a legal term referring to any false statement—called a “defamatory” statement—that harms another person’s reputation or causes them other demonstrable damages such as financial loss or emotional distress. Rather than a criminal offense, defamation is a civil wrong or “tort.” Victims of defamation can sue the person who made the defamatory statement for damages in civil court. Statements of personal opinion are usually not considered to be defamatory unless they are phrased as being factual. For example, the statement, “I think Senator Smith takes bribes,” would probably be considered opinion, rather than defamation. However, the statement, “Senator Smith has taken many bribes,” if proven untrue, could be considered legally defamatory. Libel vs. Slander Civil law recognizes two types of defamation: “libel” and “slander.” Libel is defined as a defamatory statement that appears in written form. Slander is defined as a spoken or oral defamatory statement. Many libelous statements appear as articles or comments on websites and blogs, or as comments in publicly-accessible chat rooms and forums. Libelous statements appear less often in letters to the editor sections of printed newspapers and magazines because their editors typically screen out such comments. As spoken statements, slander can happen anywhere. However, to amount to slander, the statement must be made to a third party—someone other than the person being defamed. For example, if Joe tells Bill something false about Mary, Mary could sue Joe for defamation if she could prove that she had suffered actual damages as a result of Joe’s slanderous statement. Because written defamatory statements remain publicly visible longer than spoken statements, most courts, juries, and attorneys consider libel to be more potentially harmful to the victim than slander. As a result, monetary awards and settlements in libel cases tend to be larger than those in slander cases. While the line between opinion and defamation is fine and potentially dangerous, the courts are generally hesitant to punish every off-hand insult or slur made in the heat of an argument. Many such statements, while derogatory, are not necessarily defamatory. Under the law, the elements of defamation must be proven. How Is Defamation Proven? While the laws of defamation vary from state to state, there are commonly applied rules. To be found legally defamatory in court, a statement must be proven to have been all of the following: Published (made public): The statement must have been seen or heard by at least one other person than the person who wrote or said it. False: Unless a statement is false, it cannot be considered harmful. Thus, most statements of personal opinion do not constitute defamation unless they can objectively be proven false. For example, “This is the worst car I have ever driven,” cannot be proven to be false. Unprivileged: The courts have held that in some circumstances, false statements—even if injurious—are protected or “privileged,” meaning they cannot be considered legally defamatory. For example, witnesses who lie in court, while they can be prosecuted for the criminal offense of perjury, cannot be sued in civil court for defamation. Damaging or Injurious: The statement must have resulted in some demonstrable harm to the plaintiff. For example, the statement caused them to be fired, denied a loan, shunned by family or friends, or harassed by the media. Lawyers generally consider showing actual harm to be the hardest part of proving defamation. Merely having the “potential” to cause harm is not enough. It must be proven that the false statement has ruined the victim’s reputation. Business owners, for example, must prove that the statement has caused them a substantial loss of revenue. Not only can actual damages be hard to prove, victims must wait until the statement has caused them problems before they can seek legal recourse. Merely feeling embarrassed by a false statement is rarely held to prove defamation. However, the courts will sometimes automatically presume some types of especially devastating false statements to be defamatory. In general, any statement falsely accusing another person of committing a serious crime, if it was made maliciously or recklessly, may be presumed to constitute defamation. Defamation and Freedom of the Press In discussing defamation of character, it is important to remember that the First Amendment to the U.S. Constitution protects both freedom of speech and freedom of the press. Since in America the governed are assured the right to criticize the people who govern them, public officials are given the least protection from defamation. In the 1964 case of New York Times v. Sullivan, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled 9-0 that certain statements, while defamatory, are specifically protected by the First Amendment. The case concerned a full-page, paid advertisement published in The New York Times claiming that the arrest of Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. by Montgomery City, Alabama, police on charges of perjury had been part of a campaign by city leaders to destroy Rev. King's efforts to integrate public facilities and increase the black vote. Montgomery city commissioner L. B. Sullivan sued The Times for libel, claiming that the allegations in the ad against the Montgomery police had defamed him personally. Under Alabama state law, Sullivan was not required to prove he had been harmed, and since it was proven that the ad contained factual errors, Sullivan won a $500,000 judgment in state court. The Times appealed to the Supreme Court, claiming that it had been unaware of the errors in the ad and that the judgment had infringed on its First Amendment freedoms of speech and the press. In its landmark decision better defining the scope of “freedom of the press,” the Supreme Court ruled that the publication of certain defamatory statements about the actions of public officials were protected by the First Amendment. The unanimous Court stressed the importance of “a profound national commitment to the principle that debate on public issues should be uninhibited, robust, and wide-open.” The Court further acknowledged that in public discussion about public figures like politicians, mistakes—if “honestly made”—should be protected from defamation claims. Under the Court’s ruling, public officials can sue for defamation only if the false statements about them were made with “actual intent.” Actual intent means that the person who spoke or published the damaging statement either knew it was false or did not care whether it was true or not. For example, when a newspaper editor doubts the truth of a statement but publishes it without checking the facts. American writers and publishers are also protected from libel judgments issued against them in foreign courts by the SPEECH Act signed into law by President Barack Obama in 2010. Officially titled the Securing the Protection of our Enduring and Established Constitutional Heritage Act, the SPEECH act makes foreign libel judgments unenforceable in U.S. courts unless the laws of the foreign government provide at least as much protection of the freedom of speech as the U.S. First Amendment. In other words, unless the defendant would have been found guilty of libel even if the case had been tried in the United States, under U.S. law, the foreign court’s judgment would not be enforced in U.S. courts. Finally, the “Fair Comment and Criticism” doctrine protects reporters and publishers from charges of defamation arising from articles such as movie and book reviews, and opinion-editorial columns. Key Takeaways: Defamation of Character Defamation refers to any false statement that harms another person’s reputation or causes them other damages such as financial loss or emotional distress. Defamation is a civil wrong, rather than a criminal offense. Victims of defamation can sue for damages in civil court. There are two forms of defamation: “libel,” a damaging written false statement, and “slander,” a damaging spoken or oral false statement. Sources “Defamation FAQs.” Media Law Resource Center. “Opinion and Fair Comment Privileges.” Digital Media Law Project. “SPEECH Act.” U.S. Government Printing Office Franklin, Mark A. (1963). “The Origins and Constitutionality of Limitations on Truth as a Defense in Tort Law.” Stanford Law Review “Defamation.” Digital Media Law Project

Gore vidal

Op-ed: Gore Vidal's Lasting Legacy One of the first times I filmed with Gore Vidal was in Ravello, Italy, in his clifftop villa, La Rondinaia (The Swallow's Nest). It was like witnessing an exiled Roman emperor getting ready to return home after many years of banishment in the colonies. This was his final weekend at the house, and he spent it saying goodbye to friends and looking out at the beautiful views of the Amalfi Coast. There is a palpable atmosphere of melancholia and loss in this scene as Gore packs up his life and memories and prepares to leave. The ghost of his recently deceased long-term companion, Howard Austen, is ever-present in these heartbreaking moments, and Gore spends his time writing at his desk and reminiscing fondly of their days together. I often asked Gore about his personal life, but he liked to keep it to himself and would rarely comment on his sexual life to me. He did acknowledge having various affairs over the years with other famous writers but would never divulge the details, especially not on camera. He had a very macho tone in response to questions about his love life and insisted to me that he was always a top. His promiscuity is legendary, and in the film he jokes that sex is healthy and that being active is good for the constitution. That it “tones you up.” His long relationship with Howard Austen provided companionship, but he found sex elsewhere. There is plenty of detail on his affairs in various biographies, but none of this was my focus in making this film. More interesting, I think, is the fact that Gore Vidal wrote one of the first frankly gay American novels, described as one of the “definitive war-influenced gay novels.” In 1948 The City and the Pillar was published, and Gore suffered at the hands of the press, especially The New York Times, which famously would not advertise the book or review any of his work. Nonetheless, it was among the few gay novels reprinted in inexpensive paperback from as early as the 1950s. It became a best-seller and made Gore a lot of money, being reprinted many times over. After this Gore wrote a few books under pseudonyms and eventually moved out to Hollywood to write screenplays, where he decided he could earn money that would enable him to buy a house and the independence needed to write whatever he wanted. In 1968, the satirical diary Myra Breckinridge was published, causing a huge stir. Gore was once again pushing the envelope and courting controversy. The book was dismissed by some of the era's more conservative critics as pornographic, but it immediately became a worldwide best-seller and has since come to be considered a classic in some circles. The book addressed feminism, transsexuality, American expressions of machismo and patriarchy, and deviant sexual practices, as filtered through an aggressively camp sensibility. “It is tempting to argue that Vidal said more to subvert the dominant rules of sex and gender in Myra than is contained in a shelf of queer theory treatises,” Dennis Altman wrote of the book. I met Altman at Gore’s house in the Hollywood Hills while he was interviewing Gore for his critical study Gore Vidal’s America. We spoke at length about the importance of Gore’s writings on sex and politics and religion. Altman sees Myra Breckenridge as “part of a major cultural assault on the assumed norms of gender and sexuality which swept the western world in the late 1960s and early 1970s.” Gore’s work played such a critical role in challenging the status quo and shaking up the sexual conservatism lingering from the 1950s. Always outspoken and with strong opinions and a deft wit, Gore loved to be provocative, which made for great material for the film. There is an interesting moment in black-and-white footage from the 1960s when Gore leaves a conservative commentator speechless on homosexuality when he bravely replies that he sees the difference between homosexuality and heterosexuality as the difference between blue eyes and brown eyes (as in, there really is no difference). Gore always disliked being categorized and refused to be labeled, famously saying, “There is no such thing as a homosexual or a heterosexual person. There are only homo- or heterosexual acts. Most people are a mixture of impulses if not practices.” Although he didn’t really get involved in the movement of the 1970s and ’80s, he stated his case very early on in his writing and spent his life challenging stereotypes and speaking truth to power. I think his strength and honesty as a gay man has inspired many LGBT people. He was at the forefront of the culture wars and never backed down from a good fight, often outwitting opponents with his smarts. The famous scene where William F. Buckley calls him a “queer” on national television, followed by Gore’s acknowledging smile, illustrates how he found inner strength in the places that others might attack him. I believe The United States of Amnesia captures Gore at his provocative best; it includes a wealth of witty and biting analysis of American history and politics and serves to remind us why he will forever stand as one of the most brilliant and fearless critics of our time. NICHOLAS WRATHALL is the producer and director of The United States of Amnesia.

Gore Vidal

Op-ed: Gore Vidal's Lasting Legacy One of the first times I filmed with Gore Vidal was in Ravello, Italy, in his clifftop villa, La Rondinaia (The Swallow's Nest). It was like witnessing an exiled Roman emperor getting ready to return home after many years of banishment in the colonies. This was his final weekend at the house, and he spent it saying goodbye to friends and looking out at the beautiful views of the Amalfi Coast. There is a palpable atmosphere of melancholia and loss in this scene as Gore packs up his life and memories and prepares to leave. The ghost of his recently deceased long-term companion, Howard Austen, is ever-present in these heartbreaking moments, and Gore spends his time writing at his desk and reminiscing fondly of their days together. I often asked Gore about his personal life, but he liked to keep it to himself and would rarely comment on his sexual life to me. He did acknowledge having various affairs over the years with other famous writers but would never divulge the details, especially not on camera. He had a very macho tone in response to questions about his love life and insisted to me that he was always a top. His promiscuity is legendary, and in the film he jokes that sex is healthy and that being active is good for the constitution. That it “tones you up.” His long relationship with Howard Austen provided companionship, but he found sex elsewhere. There is plenty of detail on his affairs in various biographies, but none of this was my focus in making this film. More interesting, I think, is the fact that Gore Vidal wrote one of the first frankly gay American novels, described as one of the “definitive war-influenced gay novels.” In 1948 The City and the Pillar was published, and Gore suffered at the hands of the press, especially The New York Times, which famously would not advertise the book or review any of his work. Nonetheless, it was among the few gay novels reprinted in inexpensive paperback from as early as the 1950s. It became a best-seller and made Gore a lot of money, being reprinted many times over. After this Gore wrote a few books under pseudonyms and eventually moved out to Hollywood to write screenplays, where he decided he could earn money that would enable him to buy a house and the independence needed to write whatever he wanted. In 1968, the satirical diary Myra Breckinridge was published, causing a huge stir. Gore was once again pushing the envelope and courting controversy. The book was dismissed by some of the era's more conservative critics as pornographic, but it immediately became a worldwide best-seller and has since come to be considered a classic in some circles. The book addressed feminism, transsexuality, American expressions of machismo and patriarchy, and deviant sexual practices, as filtered through an aggressively camp sensibility. “It is tempting to argue that Vidal said more to subvert the dominant rules of sex and gender in Myra than is contained in a shelf of queer theory treatises,” Dennis Altman wrote of the book. I met Altman at Gore’s house in the Hollywood Hills while he was interviewing Gore for his critical study Gore Vidal’s America. We spoke at length about the importance of Gore’s writings on sex and politics and religion. Altman sees Myra Breckenridge as “part of a major cultural assault on the assumed norms of gender and sexuality which swept the western world in the late 1960s and early 1970s.” Gore’s work played such a critical role in challenging the status quo and shaking up the sexual conservatism lingering from the 1950s. Always outspoken and with strong opinions and a deft wit, Gore loved to be provocative, which made for great material for the film. There is an interesting moment in black-and-white footage from the 1960s when Gore leaves a conservative commentator speechless on homosexuality when he bravely replies that he sees the difference between homosexuality and heterosexuality as the difference between blue eyes and brown eyes (as in, there really is no difference). Gore always disliked being categorized and refused to be labeled, famously saying, “There is no such thing as a homosexual or a heterosexual person. There are only homo- or heterosexual acts. Most people are a mixture of impulses if not practices.” Although he didn’t really get involved in the movement of the 1970s and ’80s, he stated his case very early on in his writing and spent his life challenging stereotypes and speaking truth to power. I think his strength and honesty as a gay man has inspired many LGBT people. He was at the forefront of the culture wars and never backed down from a good fight, often outwitting opponents with his smarts. The famous scene where William F. Buckley calls him a “queer” on national television, followed by Gore’s acknowledging smile, illustrates how he found inner strength in the places that others might attack him. I believe The United States of Amnesia captures Gore at his provocative best; it includes a wealth of witty and biting analysis of American history and politics and serves to remind us why he will forever stand as one of the most brilliant and fearless critics of our time. NICHOLAS WRATHALL is the producer and director of The United States of Amnesia.

Tolstoy ... Dostvasky

RELIGION FROM TOLSTOY TO CAMUS INTRODUCTION The story of religion, whether in Biblical times or in the last three quarters of a century, is not reducible to the superficialities of the masses and the subtle- ties of priests and theologians. There are also poets and prophets, critics and martyrs. It is widely recognized that one can discuss religious ideas in connection with works of literature, but exceedingly few poets and novelists have been movers and shakers of religion. Leo Tolstoy, who was just that, has not been given the attention he deserves from students of religion. With all due respect to twentieth-century poets and novehsts who are more fashionable, it is doubtful that any of their works have the stature of Tolstoy's Resurrection. This novel does not merely illustrate ideas one might like to discuss anyway but aims rather to revise our thinking about morals and religion. To say that Tolstoy was a very great writer, or even that his stature surpassed that of any twentieth-century theologian, may be very safe and trite. But a much bolder claim is worth considering: perhaps he is more important for the history of religion during the century covered in this volume than any theologian; perhaps he has contributed more of real importance and original- ity and issues a greater challenge to us. That is why his name appears in the title of this book, and why he has been given more space than anyone else. Those who follow are a heterogeneous group, selected not to work toward some predetermined conclusion but to give a fair idea of the com- plexity of our story. The work of the theologians has been placed in perspective, no less than that of the literary figures, philosophers, and others who are not so easy to classify. Almost all the men included were "for" religion, though not the popular religion which scarcely any great religious figure has ever admired. Like the prophets and Jesus, like the Buddha and Luther, these men were critical of much that was and is fashionable; but their point was for the most part to purify religion. Only three of the twenty-three represented here wrote as critics of religion without being motivated by an underlying sympathy: Nietzsche, Freud, and Morris Cohen, No effort has been made to give proportional representation to various denominations. As it happens, Roman Catholicism and the Greek Orthodox church, Judaism, atheism, and various forms of Protestantism are all repre- sented by at least one adherent; but with the exception of the popes, these are not spokesmen. The point is not to appease everybody but to provoke thought. The men included disagree with one another on fundamental issues. Hence one cannot help disagreeing with most of them unless one refuses to think. These men did not aim to please but to make us better human beings. By wrestling with them we stand some chance of becoming more humane. TOLSTOY ​It is customary to think of Tolstoy as a very great novelist who wrote War and Peace and Anna Karenina, but who then became immersed in religion and wrote tracts. His later concerns are generally deplored, and many readers and writers wish that instead he might have written another novel of the caliber of his masterpieces. A very few of his later works are excepted: chief among these is The Death of Ivan Ilyitch, which is acknowledged as one of the masterpieces of world literature. And some of those who have read the less well-known fable, How Much Land Does a Man Need? have said that it may well be the greatest short story ever written. But these are stories. Such direct communications as My Religion, with their unmistakable and inescapable challenge, one prefers to escape by not reading them. This makes it likely that most admirers of the stories, and even of Anna Karenina, come nowhere near understanding these works — a point amply borne out by the disquisitions of literary critics. ​Lionel Trilling, as perceptive a critic as we have, has said that "every object ... in Anna Karenina exists in the medium of what we must call the author's love. But this love is so pervasive, it is so constant, and it is so equitable, that it created the illusion of objectivity. . . . For Tolstoi everyone and everything has a saving grace. ... It is this moral quality, this quality of affection, that accounts for the unique illusion of reality that Tolstoi creates. It is when the novelist really loves his characters that he can show them in their completeness and contradiction, in their failures as well as in their great moments, in their triviality as well as in their charm." Three pages later: "It is chiefly Tolstoi's moral vision that accounts for the happiness with which we respond to Anna Karenina." ​Happiness indeed! Love, saving grace, and affection! Surely, the opposite of all this would be truer than that! After such a reading, it is not surprising that the critic has to say, near the end of his essay on Anna Karenina (reprinted in The Opposing Self): "Why is it a great novel? Only the finger of admiration can answer: because of this moment, or this, or this. . . ." The point is not that Trilling has slipped for once, but that Anna Karenina is generally misread — even by the best of critics. ​Any reader who responds with happiness to this novel, instead of being disturbed to the depths, must, of course, find a sharp reversal in Tolstoy's later work which is so patently designed to shock us, to dislodge our way of looking at the world, and to make us see ourselves and others in a new, glaring and uncomfortable, light. Even if we confine ourselves to Anna Karenina, I know of no other great writer in the whole nineteenth century, perhaps even in the whole of world literature, to whom I respond with less happiness and with a more profound sense that I am on trial and found wanting, unless it were Soren Kierkegaard. ​Far from finding that Tolstoy's figures are bathed in his love and, without exception, have a saving grace, I find, on the contrary, that he loves almost none and that he tells us in so many words that what grace or charm they have is not enough to save them. ​Instead of first characterizing an apparently repulsive character and then exhibiting his hidden virtues or, like Dostoevsky, forcing the reader to identify himself with murderers, Tolstoy generally starts with characters toward whom we are inclined to be well disposed, and then, with ruthless honesty, brings out their hidden failings and their self-deceptions and often makes them look ridiculous. "Why is it a great novel?" Not on account of this detail or that, but because Tolstoy's penetration and perception have never been excelled; because love and affection never blunt his honesty; and because in inviting us to sit in judgment, Tolstoy calls on us to judge our- selves. Finding that most of the characters deceive themselves, the reader is meant to infer that he is probably himself guilty of self-deception; that his graces, too, are far from saving; that his charm, too, does not keep him from being ridiculous — and that it will never do to resign himself to this. ​The persistent preoccupation with self-deception and with an appeal to the reader to abandon his inauthenticity links Anna Karenina with The Death of Ivan Ilyitch, whose influence on existentialism is obvious. But in Anna Karenina the centrality of this motif has not generally been noticed. ​It is introduced ironically on the third page of the novel, in the second sentence of Chapter II: "He was incapable of deceiving himself." To trace it all the way through the novel would take a book; a few characteristic passages, chosen almost at random, will have to suffice. "He did not realize it, because it was too terrible to him to realize his actual position. . . . [He] did not want to think at all about his wife's behavior, and he actually succeeded in not thinking about it at all. . . . He did not want to see, and did not see. . . . He did not want to understand, and did not understand. . . . He did not allow himself to think about it, and he did not think about it; but all the same, though he never admitted it to himself ... in the bot- tom of his heart he knew. . . ." (Modern Library ed., 238 ff.) "Kitty an- swered perfectly truly. She did not know the reason Anna Pavlovna had changed to her, but she guessed it. She guessed at something which she could not tell her mother, which she did not put into words to herself. It was one of those things which one knows but which one can never speak of even to oneself. . . ." (268) "She became aware that she had deceived herself. . . ." (279) "He did not acknowledge this feeling, but at the bottom of his heart. . . ." (334) ​Here is a passage in which bad faith is specifically related to religion: "Though in passing through these difficult moments he had not once thought of seeking guidance in religion, yet now, when his conclusion corresponded, as it seemed to him, with the requirements of religion, this religious sanc- tion to his decision gave him complete satisfaction, and to some extent restored his peace of mind. He was pleased to think that, even in such an important crisis in life, no one would be able to say that he had not acted in accordance with the principles of that religion whose banner he had al- ways held aloft amid the general coolness and indifference." (335) ​Later, to be sure, Anna's husband becomes reHgious in a deeper sense; but as soon as the reader feels that Tolstoy's cutting irony is giving way to affection and that the man "has a saving grace," Tolstoy, with unfailing honesty, probes the man's religion and makes him, if possible, more ridicu- lous than he had seemed before. And the same is done with Varenka: she is not presented as a hypocrite with a saving grace but as a saint — until she is looked at more closely. ​Inauthenticity is not always signaled by the vocabulary of self-deception. Sometimes Tolstoy's irony works differently: "Vronsky's life was particularly happy in that he had a code of principles, which defined with unfail- ing certitude what he ought and what he ought not to do. . . . These principles laid down as invariable rules: that one must pay a cardsharper, but need not pay a tailor; that one must never tell a lie to a man, but one may to a woman; that one must never cheat anyone, but one may a husband; that one must never pardon an insult, but one may give one, and so on. These principles were possibly not reasonable and not good, but they were of unfailing certainty, and so long as he adhered to them, Vronsky felt that his heart was at peace and he could hold his head up." (361) Here, too, we en- counter a refusal to think about uncomfortable matters. Here, too, as in the passage about religion, it is not just one character who is on trial but a civilization; and while the reader is encouraged to pass judgment, he is surely expected to realize that his judgment will apply pre-eminently to himself. ​Such passages are not reducible, in Trilling's words, to "this moment, or this, or this." The motifs of deception of oneself and others are absolutely central in Anna Karenina. Exoterically, the topic is unfaithfulness, but the really fundamental theme is bad faith. ​Exoterically, the novel presents a story of two marriages, one good and one bad, but what makes it such a great novel is that the author is far above any simplistic black and white, good and bad, and really deals with the ubiquity of dishonesty and inauthenticity, and with the Promethean, the Faustian, or, to be precise, the Tolstoyan struggle against them. ​Exoterically, the novel contains everything: a wedding, a near death, a real death, a birth, a hunt, a horse race, legitimate and illegitimate love, and Introduction: Religion from Tolstoy to Camus j- legitimate and illegitimate lack of love. Unlike lesser writers, who deal with avowedly very interesting characters but ask us in effect to take their word for it that these men are very interesting, Tolstoy immerses us compellingly in the professional experiences and interests of his characters. The sketch of Karenina working in his study, for example (Part III, Chapter XIV), is no mere virtuoso piece. It is a cadenza in which the author's irony is carried to dazzling heights, but it is also an acid study of inauthenticity. ​When Tolstoy speaks of death — "I had forgotten — death" (413; cf. 444) — and, later, gives a detailed account of the death of Levin's brother (571-93), this is not something to which one may refer as "this moment, or this, or this," nor merely a remarkable anticipation of The Death of Ivan Ilyitch: it is another essential element in Tolstoy's attack on inauthenticity. What in Anna Karenina, a novel of about one thousand pages, is one crucial element, becomes in The Death of Ivan Ilyitch the device for focusing the author's central message in a short story. And confronted with this briefer treatment of the same themes, no reader is Kkely to miss the point and to respond with "happiness." ​All the passages cited so far from Anna Karenina come from the first half of the book, and they could easily be multiplied without going any further. Or, turning to Part V, one could point to the many references to dread and boredom, which, in the twentieth century, are widely associated with existentialism, and which become more and more important as the novel progresses. Or one could trace overt references to self-deception through the rest of the book: "continually deceived himself with the theory . . ." (562); "this self-deception" (587); "deceived him and them- selves and each other" (590); and so forth. Or one could enumerate other anticipations of existentialism, like the following brief statement which summarizes pages and pages of Jaspers on extreme situations (Grenzsitua- tionen): "that grief and this joy were alike outside all the ordinary con- ditions of life; they were loopholes, as it were, in that ordinary life through which there came glimpses of something sublime. And in the contemplation of this sublime something the soul was exalted to inconceivable heights of which it had before had no conception, while reason lagged behind, unable to keep up with it." (831 f.) Instead, let us turn to the end of the novel. ​"Now for the first time Anna turned that glaring light in which she was seeing everything on to her relations with him, which she had hitherto avoided thinking about." (887) Thus begins her final, desperate struggle for honesty. On her way to her death she thinks "that we are all created to be miserable, and that we aU know it, and all invent means of deceiving each other." (892) Yet Tolstoy's irony is relentless — much more savage, cruel, and hurtful than that of Shaw, who deals with ideas or types rather than with individual human beings. Tolstoy has often been compared with Homer — by Trilling among many others — but Homer's heroes are granted Introduction: Religion from Tolstoy to Camus 6 a moment of truth as they die; they even see into the future. Not Anna, though numerous critics have accused the author of loving her too much — so much that it allegedly destroys the balance of the novel. Does he really love her at all? What she sees "distinctly in the piercing light" (888) is wrong; she deceives herself until the very end and, instead of recognizing the conscience that hounds her, projects attitudes into Vronsky that in fact he does not have. Like most readers, she does not understand what drives her to death, and at the very last moment, when it is too late, "she tried to get up, to drop backwards; but something huge and merciless struck her on the head and rolled her on her back." ​Did Tolstoy love her as much as Shakespeare loved Cleopatra, when he lavished all the majesty and beauty he commanded on her suicide? Anna's death quite pointedly lacks the dignity with which Shakespeare allows even Macbeth to die. She is a posthumous sister of Goethe's Gretchen, squashed by the way of some Faust or Levin, a Goethe or a Tolstoy. Her death, like Gretchen's, is infinitely pathetic; in spite of her transgression she was clearly better than the society that condemned her; but what matters ultimately is neither Gretchen nor Anna but that in a world in which such cruelty abounds Faust and Levin should persist in their "darkling aspira- tion." ​Their aspirations, however, are different. Faust's has little to do with society or honesty; his concern is pre-eminently with self-realization. Any social criticism implicit in the Gretchen tragedy is incidental. Tolstoy, on the other hand, was quite determined to attack society and bad faith, and when he found that people missed the point in Anna Karenina he resorted to other means. But there are passages in Anna Karenina that yield to nothing he wrote later, even in explicitness. ​Here is a passage that comes after Anna's death. It deals with Levin. "She knew what worried her husband. It was his unbelief. Although, if she had been asked whether she supposed that in the future life, if he did not believe, he would be damned, she would have had to admit that he would be damned, his unbelief did not cause her unhappiness. And she, confessing that for an unbeliever there can be no salvation, and loving her husband's soul more than anything in the world, thought with a smile of his unbelief, and told herself that he was absurd." (912) ​Tolstoy's interest in indicting bad faith does not abate with Anna's death: it is extended to Kitty's religion and to Russian patriotism. But in the end Levin's unbelief is modified without any abandonment of the quest for honesty. "He briefly went through, mentally, the whole course of his ideas during the last two years, the beginning of which was the clear confronting of death at the sight of his dear brother hopelessly ill." (926) And then his outlook is changed, but not, as some critics have said, into "the effacing of the intellect in a cloud of happy mysticism" {Encyclopaedia Introduction: Religion from Tolstoy to Camus 7 Britannic a, nth ed.); far from it. The religious position intimated here is articulated with full force in the works reprinted in the present volume. Neither here nor there can I find any "effacing of the intellect" nor even what Trilling, at the end of his essay, calls "the energy of animal intelligence that marks Tolstoi as a novelist." What awes me is perhaps the highest, most comprehensive, and most penetrating human intelligence to be found in any great creative writer anywhere. ​These remarks about Anna Karenina should suffice to relate The Death of Ivan llyitch and How Much Land Does A Man Need?, My Religion, and Tolstoy's reply to his excommunication, to his previous work. They show that he was not a great writer who suddenly abandoned art for tracts, and they may furnish what little explanation the writings reprinted here re quire. The world has been exceedingly kind to the author of War and Peace, but it has not taken kindly to the later Tolstoy. The attitude of most readers and critics to Tolstoy's later prose is well summarized by some of our quo- tations from Anna Karenina: "He did not want to see, and did not see. . . . He did not want to understand, and did not understand. . . . He did not allow himself to think about it, and he did not think about it. . . ." ​What is true of most readers is not true of all. The exceptions include, above all, Mahatma Gandhi, whose gospel of nonviolence was flatly op- posed to the most sacred traditions of his own religion. The Bhagavadgita, often called the New Testament of India, consists of Krishna's admonition of Aryuna, who wants to forswear war when his army is ready for battle; and Krishna, a god incarnate, insists that Aryuna should join the battle, and that every man should do his duty, with his mind on Krishna and the transitoriness of all the things of the world and not on the consequences of his actions. The soldier should soldier, realizing that, ultimately, this world is illusory and he who thinks he slays does not really slay. It would be a gross understatement to say that Gandhi owed more to Tolstoy than he did to Hinduism. ​Among philosophers, Ludwig Wittgenstein, whose influence on British and American philosophy after World War II far exceeded that of any other thinker, had the profoundest admiration for Tolstoy; and when he inherited his father's fortune, he gave it away to live simply and austerely. But his philosophy and his academic influence do not reflect Tolstoy's impact. ​Martin Heidegger, on the other hand, owes much of his influence to what he has done with Tolstoy. The central section of his main work, Being and Time, deals at length with death. It contains a footnote (original ed., 1927, p. 254): "L. N. Tolstoy, in his story. The Death of Ivan llyitch, has presented the phenomenon of the shattering and the collapse of this 'one dies.' " "One dies" refers to the attitude of those who admit that one dies, but who do not seriously confront the fact that they themselves will die. In the chapter on "Death" in my The Faith of a Heretic I have tried to show in some detail how "Heidegger on death is for the most part an un-acknowledged commentary on The Death of Ivan Ilyitch"… also how Tolstoy's story is far superior to Heidegger's commentary. And one of the mottos of my book comes from Tolstoy's Reply to the Synod's Edict of Excommunication. ​This Reply is relevant to the misleading suggestion that Anna Karenina is a Christian tragedy. First of all, Anna Karenina is not a tragedy. Not only is it a novel in form; it is essentially not a tragedy that ends in a catastrophe but an epic story that continues fittingly after Anna's death to end with Levin's achievement of more insight. Secondly, it is rather odd to hold up as an example of what is possible within Christianity a man formally excommunicated, a writer whose views have not been accepted by any Christian denomination — a heretic. ​Tolstoy drew his inspiration in large measure from the Gospels. His intelligence and sensitivity were of the highest order. And whether we classify him as a Christian or a heretic, his late writings remain to challenge every reader who is honestly concerned with the New Testament or, generally, with religion. We shall return to Tolstoy again and again in the following pages. Other writers one can take or leave, read and forget. To ignore Tolstoy means impoverishing one's own mind; and to read and forget him is hardly possible. DOSTOEVSKY Asked to name the two greatest novelists of all time, most writers would probably choose Tolstoy and Dostoevsky. They were contemporaries, Russian to the core, at home in English, French, and German literature, and deeply concerned with Christianity. But their interpretations of Christianity were as different as their temperaments and their artistic techniques. ​Tolstoy thought the Christian message involved a radical criticism of society, and his conception of the gospel was social. Dostoevsky's novels, on the other hand, urge the individual to repent of his sins; to accept social injustice because, no matter how harshly we may be treated, in view of our sinfulness and guilt we deserve no better; and not to pin our faith on social reforms. This message is particularly central in his last and greatest novel. The Brothers Karamazov. Mitya, the victim of a miscarriage of justice, ac- cepts his sentence willingly as a welcome penance. And his brother Ivan, though also legally innocent, considers himself no less guilty than the murderer. Unlike Anna Karenina and Resurrection and most great novels, The Brothers Karamazov contains a sequence of two chapters which, though an integral part of the work, can also be read separately without doing an injustice either to this fragment or to the novel: the conversation between Ivan and Alyosha in which Ivan tells his story of the Grand In- quisitor. These chapters help to characterize the two brothers, and the views of the Grand Inquisitor are emphatically not the views of Dostoevsky: on the contrary, what is intended is an indictment of the Roman Catholic church — and probably also of such men as Jefferson and Mill and of the ideal of the pursuit of happiness. When "The Grand Inquisitor" is read out of context, the immediately preceding chapter is generally ignored; but the story is more likely to be understood as it was meant to be by the author, if one includes the conversation that leads up to it. Moreover, Ivan's vivid sketches of the sufferings of children deserve attention in their own right, and they help to place Royce's attempt to solve the problem of suffering, reproduced later in this volume, in perspective. ​Oscar Wilde, too, will be found to develop some of the themes introduced here. What makes the story of the Grand Inquisitor one of the greatest pieces of world literature is, first of all, that outside the Bible it would be hard to find another story of equal brevity that says so much so forcefully. Moreover, the story challenges some of the most confident convictions of Western Christians. Reading the story merely as a diatribe against the Roman Catholic church and supposing that it stands or falls with its applicability to one religion is almost as foolish as supposing that the Inquisitor speaks the author's mind. ​What is presented to us, backed up by powerful though not conclusive arguments, is one of the most important theories of all time, for which it would be good to have a name. I shall call it benevolent totalitarianism. By totalitarianism I mean a theory which holds that the government may regulate the lives of the citizens in their totality. Whether this is feasible at the moment is not essential. For political reasons or owing to technological backwardness, a totalitarian government may not actually regulate the citizens' lives in their totality: what matters is whether the government believes that it has the right to do this whenever it seems feasible. In this sense, the governments of Hitler and Stalin were totalitarian; and their conduct explains, but does not justify, the popular assumption that totalitarianism is necessarily malignant. Ivan Karamazov submits that a man might honestly believe that, in the hands of wise rulers, totalitarianism would make men happier than any other form of government. ​ ​The point is of crucial importance: what is at stake is the dogmatic and naive self-righteousness of Western statesmen who simply take for granted their own good faith, benevolence, and virtue and the lack of all these qualities in statesmen from totalitarian countries. Dostoevsky's point is not altogether new: the first book on political philosophy, written more than two thousand years ago — Plato's Republic — presents a lengthy defense of benevolent totalitarianism. Some writers balk at calling it totalitarianism, mainly because they associate the word with malignancy. Others, seeing clearly that the doctrine of the Republic is totalitarian, have charged Plato with malignancy. A reading of Dostoevsky's tale shows us at a glance where both camps have gone wrong. Plato, moreover, develops his arguments over roughly three hundred pages, introducing a great wealth of other material, while the Grand Inquisitor takes less than twenty. ​This chapter, then, is one of the most important documents of social philosophy ever penned, and any partisan of civil liberties might well say, as John Stuart Mill did in his essay On Liberty: "If there are any persons who contest a received opinion, ... let us thank them for it, open our minds to listen to them, and rejoice that there is some one to do for us what we otherwise ought, if we have any regard for either the certainty or the vitality of our convictions, to do with much greater labor for ourselves." ​Still, it may not be at all clear how the tale, if it is aimed at the Vatican, could also be aimed at Mill and Jefferson; and how, if it does not stand or fall with its applicability to Catholicism, it is important for religion. Both points depend on Dostoevsky's repudiation of the pursuit of happiness. The ideal of the greatest possible happiness for the greatest possible number — which, though this formulation is British, is nothing less than the American dream — seemed to Dostoevsky to justify benevolent totalitarianism. ​He thought we had to choose between Christ and this world, between freedom and happiness. Dostoevsky might have echoed Luther's words: "Even if the government does injustice . . . yet God would have it obeyed. . . . We are to regard that which St. Peter bids us regard, namely, that its power, whether it do right or wrong, cannot harm the soul. . . . To suffer wrong destroys no one's soul, nay, it improves the soul." ​ Or this quotation, also from Luther: "There is to be no bondage because Christ has freed us all? What is all this? This would make Christian freedom fleshly! . . . Read St. Paul and see what he teaches about bondsmen. ... A bondsman can be a Christian and have Christian freedom, even as a prisoner and a sick man can be Christians, even though they are not free. This claim aims to make all men equal and to make a worldly, external kingdom of the spiritual kingdom of Christ. And this is impossible. For a worldly kingdom cannot exist unless there is inequality among men, so that some are free and others captive. " ​In his politics, Dostoevsky, like Luther, was a radical authoritarian and an opponent of social reforms. His Christianity is concerned with the individual soul and its salvation; it is metaphysical, brooding, and preoccupied with guilt; it is otherworldly and content to give unto Caesar what is Caesar's. While Tolstoy wants to prepare the kingdom of God on earth, Dostoevsky seeks the kingdom only in the hearts of men. The tale of the Grand Inquisitor is meant as an indictment of all who "would make Chris- tian freedom fleshly." ​Tolstoy staked his message on his reading of the New Testament, and his interpretations and assumptions are answered to some extent by various later writers in this volume, especially Enslin and Schweitzer. Dostoevsky's bland assumption, on the other hand, that the pursuit of happiness must lead to totalitarianism, and that his Inquisitor is the nemesis of democracy, is not criticized by any of the other writers in this book and should therefore be questioned briefly at this point. ​If democracy meant majority rule pure and simple, it would be compatible with totalitarianism. For democracy so understood, the men who framed the American Constitution held no brief, any more than Mill did. They were afraid of the possible tyranny of majorities and, to guard against that, devised an intricate system of checks and balances, a Constitution, and, amending that, a Bill of Rights. The whole point of the Bill of Rights is that the government may not regulate the lives of the citizens in their totality — not even if the majority should favor this. It might be objected that the Bill of Rights could be repealed. But that could be done only if the overwhelming majority of the people, and not those in one part of the country only, should insist on it over a long period of time; and in that case, of course, no framer of a constitution could prevent a revolutionary change. Any change of that sort, however, was made as difficult as possible. ​What is incompatible with totalitarianism is not majority rule but belief in the overruling importance of civil liberties or human rights. You can have majority rule without civil liberties. Indeed, no country with effective guarantees of free speech and a free press is ever likely to accord its government the kind of majority endorsement which is characteristic of countries without free speech and a free press, from Hitler's Germany to Nasser's Egypt, with their 99 per cent votes for the Leader. But it may well be the case that, conversely, you cannot long protect the people's civil liberties without introducing checks and balances including popular participation. ​With this in mind, two answers could be given to Dostoevsky's tale. First, human nature may be different from the Inquisitor's conception of it. Three quarters of a century after the story first appeared, the people in West Germany were happier than those in East Germany. Freedom and happiness are compatible, and loss of liberty is likely to entail a great deal of unhappiness. Suffice it here to say that this is arguable — and that there has been a disturbing lack of argument. ​On the whole, democrats have considered this answer to the Inquisitor to be self-evident. Reading the tale again may convince at least some readers that it is not, and that much might be gained, even internationally, by developing this answer carefully instead of merely reiterating it dogmatically. ​Second, one might answer, at least partly in Dostoevsky's spirit: If a choice had to be made between freedom and happiness, we should choose freedom. But precisely for that reason I carmot agree with Dostoevsky's and Luther's authoritarian politics. I believe that freedom and happiness are compatible, but I should not base the case for freedom on this point. If a vicar of Christ or a secular Caesar or a drug discoverer found a way to give men happiness conjoined with imbecility and slavery, I should hold out for liberty. Instead of saying that such an attitude "would make Christian freedom fleshly," one might argue that in the New Testament Jewish freedom is made otherworldly; and it is noteworthy that both Luther and Calvin associated any attempt to realize freedom in this world with Moses and Judaism. For quotations and discussion, see The Faith of a Heretic. PIUS IX AND LEO XIII

bymuradalibaig: CRIMINAL TRIBES IN INDIA’S VIOLENCE AND CORRUPTION...

bymuradalibaig: CRIMINAL TRIBES IN INDIA’S VIOLENCE AND CORRUPTION...: CRIMINAL TRIBES People have been shocked by a recent report that a 35 year old woman and her 13 year old daughter were brutally gang r...

Monday, 5 June 2017

WHY THE RAJPUTS WERE UNABLE TO DEFEAT MUSLIM INVADERS?

Muslim chroniclers record that the Indian soldiers were resolute in battle and that the Afghans and Turks had initially been terrified by their huge armies led by gigantic elephants. They however also record that Indian armies were not trained to combine effectively. Rajput armies relied on one crushing victory and their martial pride could not face the ignominy of losing small tactical battles to win a greater war. Becoming a captive also entailed an unacceptable loss of caste that made death preferable to defeat. So whenever the prospect of victory faded the morale of the Rajput armies would be totally crushed. They fought according to inflexible rules of war and did not understand the principles of strategy and the importance of surprise.

Indian armies had also always been deficient in war horses and their reliance on elephants slowed them down and could often disrupt their own ranks if wounded. Muslim armies were much better mounted and their hardy ponies trained in rugged mountains were trained to make fast battlefield maneuvers. Indian armies always advanced slowly in big blocks according to a fixed, and thus predictable science that had hardly changed since it had been defined in the third century BC in Kautilya’s Arthashastra. Pomp and show was more important than strategy. 

The hot Indian summer resulted in Indian armies choosing to only fight during the campaigning season between the end of September and the end of March usually marked by the festivals of Dusshera and Holi. Armies then rested in cool palaces during the appalling heat of summer with the result that both soldiers and their horses were weakened when they had to face invading armies. Enemies had to be awed by magnificence and surprise, a key element in warfare, had little part in their set piece planning. Their colorful tents and elaborate arrangements for food, religion and comfort required a huge train of camp followers including wives with the result that they moved slowly with a low ratio of fighting teeth to supporting tail. The caste system also played a big role as the masses of infantry were almost always poorly armed low caste infantry and archers. Though they were very numerous they were poorly trained and easily demoralized. Caste Hindus always rode on horses or elephants.

The short recurved bow, shot by mounted archers, was another big factor in the success of Afghan and Mughal armies. Indian archers who had been feared by Alexander’s Macedonians had degenerated into poorly skilled low caste infantrymen. A trained Muslim mounted archer could let loose six arrows in as many seconds while at full gallop. It was the mounted archers that mopped up Ibrahim Lodi’s army and later crushed Rana Sangha and Hemu. The eye of the latter was pierced by an arrow. 

The courts of Indian rulers were also hotbeds of intrigue where courtiers, priests and womenfolk, behind the scenes, jostled for influence. Rulers were easily flattered to overlook their own weaknesses and to believe in their invincibility. Rivals with ability, sincerity or integrity were also dangerous in the courts of sycophants.These completely undermined the cooperation and teamwork so vital for sustained attack or defense. Rajput pride was a barrier to learning and new ideas, new weapons and new battle tactics were not welcome. There was great reliance in old traditions. 

Astrology was a major problem. The Brahmins in all the royal courts had no conception of the importance of the opportune moment and would not allow military movements except at times that they deemed auspicious and after elaborate religious rituals. They were also so inward looking that they had little awareness of external threats and did not appreciate the fact that the Afghan and Turk invaders were a terrible menace that would destroy the very fabric of their way of life. 

Rai Pithora (1149–1192 AD), who later called himself Prithviraj (world ruler), belonged to the Chauhan lineage but had received the kingdom of Ajmer from his maternal grandfather Anangpal and ruled from his twin capitals of Ajmer and Delhi. Prithviraj quite easily defeated Muhammad Ghori in the first Battle of Tarain in 1191. Ghauri however attacked the following year and Prithviraj despite having an army alleged to have 3,000 elephants and 300,000 soldiers was defeated at the second battle and later executed. Ghori’s victory was partly due to guile for he had by now learned that Hindu soldiers liked to only go to battle after sunrise subsequent to performing the rituals of their ablutions and prayers. A dawn attack therefore caught the great army unprepared. Prithviraj’s armies did however rally but were deceived into chasing a fake retreat to be hit by Ghori’s mounted archers who routed them. 

Prithviraj had also been let down by Rajput allies he had been waiting for. The most important Rajput ruler was Raja Jaichandra Rathor of Kanauj whose honour, according to legend, had been deeply offended when Prithviraj had eloped with his daughter Samyukta seventeen years earlier. According to some legends he had even invited Muhammad Ghori to invade India to punish Prithviraj. His name soon became a metaphor for treachery. Despite a long period of several hundred years from the first plundering Afghan raids to the time the Mughals settled down, the Rajputs had learned nothing from their setbacks but forgot no insult to their pride. 

Paradoxically, although there was a large religious and cultural chasm between Hindus and Muslims, they were remarkable tolerant about hiring mercenary soldiers of the other faiths. There were many Muslims in all the Hindu armies and vice versa. Maharana Pratap, was one of the few Rajput maharajas to staunchly oppose the Mughals till the end but his army at the battle of Haldighati (1526) had a large contingent of Afghans led by Hakim Khan Sur. At a later time even the great Hindu hero Shivaji had many Muslims in his army while his adversary Aurangzeb’s army was commanded by a number of Rajput generals including Raja Jaswant Singh of Jodhpur and Raja Jai Singh of Amber. 

Tuesday, 2 August 2016

CRIMINAL TRIBES IN INDIA’S VIOLENCE AND CORRUPTION 

CRIMINAL TRIBES

People have been shocked by a recent report that a 35 year old woman and her 13 year old daughter were brutally gang raped near Ghaziabad in UP. It now emerges that this gang had committed similar crimes on this highway earlier. The police now claim that it is the work of a criminal class of Banwarias living in the area.  

Scheduled classes and castes have great political clout today so it was not surprising that the political establishment reacted angrily when sociologist Ashis Nandy’s had earlier said that they were responsible for much of the corruption in India. These scheduled castes include numerous criminal tribes that had once been well known for violence, theft and other anti social behavior. 

As it is politically incorrect today to speak of criminal tribes we have almost forgotten that they once existed and may still form a large though almost invisible social stratum among a number of overlapping social layers. This might also explain why the system of law and order is sometimes so out of sync with ground realities and why India’s politicians and bureaucrats have been incapable of a clear response. 

There used to be a Criminal Tribes Act of 1924 that had listed 313 nomadic and other communities (including some of the Ahir, Bangars, Bhanjaras, Bawarias, Bhattis, Gujjars, Jats, Lambadis, Kanjars, Meenas, Sansis, Vagharis, Yadhavs, etc.) Regulating their activities began with the suppression of Thugees in 1831 and was further elaborated in 1871 when 127 tribes were kept under constant police scrutiny. They were described as being “so habitually criminal” that their arrests were non bailable. The British forcibly settled many of these mostly pastoral tribes about a century ago on virtual wastelands like the areas around Faridabad, Manesar and Greater Noida where new industries were to later find cheap land but had to sometimes also face serious violence in their industrial disputes. These tribes and castes were then estimated to number 60 million or around 16 % of India’s population making them too large a number to be so ruthlessly suppressed. It is not a coincidence that many instances of rape and violence including industrial violence have routinely erupted in most of the areas close to where these tribes had been forcibly settled.

After independence the criminal tag was deleted to help them assimilate into India’s mainstream but laws and rules do not instantly change the social behavior or the habits of people. Vote bank politics were to also give them considerable political muscle and further embolden their ambitions. Most Indians may be moral, ethical and religious but there is also a vicious strata that cannot be wished away.

The social values of many these communities as well as some of these clans of north India is also a subject that is seldom discussed. Several social studies have not only shown their tendency to violence and intoxication but a terrible attitude towards women. While their mothers and wives were usually held in honor any other woman is still considered to be open game for exploitation. In many tribal communities marriage by capture had long been a normal custom and this automatically implied rape. How can such people be shocked by rape when young brides in some communities were routinely `deflowered’ by their own fathers-in law or uncles? Why should we then be surprised that village `khaps’ or panchayat courts should self-righteously uphold their mediaeval and often gender hostile old customs. Young members may have had some education but these do not instantly change their social conditioning.

Apart from the molestation of women a cult of violence seeking instant justice or revenge has unfortunately been the stuff of many Indian films and TV shows and may have been especially appealing to socially unsettled people who have long been at the outer fringes of the law. As they had been virtually ostracized by the richer classes they also had little compunction about stealing from them or molesting their women. Over the past few decades India has seen many millions of young villagers move from rural to urban areas. The lucky few got jobs in the petty bureaucracy, property, contractors, trade, small businesses, driving taxis, cars, autos, trucks or buses and in the army or police. The frustrated failures usually drifted into the criminalized underbelly of every town and indulged in violence, car thefts, bootlegging and rape whenever opportunity allowed. 

As the police, who are supposed to control them, often come from the same village stock it is not surprising that they are often unwilling or incapable of opposing their own village brothers whose social values they share. This problem needs to be recognized and fully understood before effective measures to solve them can be contemplated. 

bymuradalibaig: WHY THE RAJPUTS WERE UNABLE TO DEFEAT MUSLIM INVAD...

bymuradalibaig: WHY THE RAJPUTS WERE UNABLE TO DEFEAT MUSLIM INVAD...: Muslim chroniclers record that the Indian soldiers were resolute in battle and that the Afghans and Turks had initially been terrified...

WHY THE RAJPUTS WERE UNABLE TO DEFEAT MUSLIM INVADERS?

Muslim chroniclers record that the Indian soldiers were resolute in battle and that the Afghans and Turks had initially been terrified by their huge armies led by gigantic elephants. They however also record that Indian armies were not trained to combine effectively. Rajput armies relied on one crushing victory and their martial pride could not face the ignominy of losing small tactical battles to win a greater war. Becoming a captive also entailed an unacceptable loss of caste that made death preferable to defeat. So whenever the prospect of victory faded the morale of the Rajput armies would be totally crushed. They fought according to inflexible rules of war and did not understand the principles of strategy and the importance of surprise.

Indian armies had also always been deficient in war horses and their reliance on elephants slowed them down and could often disrupt their own ranks if wounded. Muslim armies were much better mounted and their hardy ponies trained in rugged mountains were trained to make fast battlefield maneuvers. Indian armies always advanced slowly in big blocks according to a fixed, and thus predictable science that had hardly changed since it had been defined in the third century BC in Kautilya’s Arthashastra. Pomp and show was more important than strategy. 

The hot Indian summer resulted in Indian armies choosing to only fight during the campaigning season between the end of September and the end of March usually marked by the festivals of Dusshera and Holi. Armies then rested in cool palaces during the appalling heat of summer with the result that both soldiers and their horses were weakened when they had to face invading armies. Enemies had to be awed by magnificence and surprise, a key element in warfare, had little part in their set piece planning. Their colorful tents and elaborate arrangements for food, religion and comfort required a huge train of camp followers including wives with the result that they moved slowly with a low ratio of fighting teeth to supporting tail. The caste system also played a big role as the masses of infantry were almost always poorly armed low caste infantry and archers. Though they were very numerous they were poorly trained and easily demoralized. Caste Hindus always rode on horses or elephants.

The short recurved bow, shot by mounted archers, was another big factor in the success of Afghan and Mughal armies. Indian archers who had been feared by Alexander’s Macedonians had degenerated into poorly skilled low caste infantrymen. A trained Muslim mounted archer could let loose six arrows in as many seconds while at full gallop. It was the mounted archers that mopped up Ibrahim Lodi’s army and later crushed Rana Sangha and Hemu. The eye of the latter was pierced by an arrow. 

The courts of Indian rulers were also hotbeds of intrigue where courtiers, priests and womenfolk, behind the scenes, jostled for influence. Rulers were easily flattered to overlook their own weaknesses and to believe in their invincibility. Rivals with ability, sincerity or integrity were also dangerous in the courts of sycophants.These completely undermined the cooperation and teamwork so vital for sustained attack or defense. Rajput pride was a barrier to learning and new ideas, new weapons and new battle tactics were not welcome. There was great reliance in old traditions. 

Astrology was a major problem. The Brahmins in all the royal courts had no conception of the importance of the opportune moment and would not allow military movements except at times that they deemed auspicious and after elaborate religious rituals. They were also so inward looking that they had little awareness of external threats and did not appreciate the fact that the Afghan and Turk invaders were a terrible menace that would destroy the very fabric of their way of life. 

Rai Pithora (1149–1192 AD), who later called himself Prithviraj (world ruler), belonged to the Chauhan lineage but had received the kingdom of Ajmer from his maternal grandfather Anangpal and ruled from his twin capitals of Ajmer and Delhi. Prithviraj quite easily defeated Muhammad Ghori in the first Battle of Tarain in 1191. Ghauri however attacked the following year and Prithviraj despite having an army alleged to have 3,000 elephants and 300,000 soldiers was defeated at the second battle and later executed. Ghori’s victory was partly due to guile for he had by now learned that Hindu soldiers liked to only go to battle after sunrise subsequent to performing the rituals of their ablutions and prayers. A dawn attack therefore caught the great army unprepared. Prithviraj’s armies did however rally but were deceived into chasing a fake retreat to be hit by Ghori’s mounted archers who routed them. 

Prithviraj had also been let down by Rajput allies he had been waiting for. The most important Rajput ruler was Raja Jaichandra Rathor of Kanauj whose honour, according to legend, had been deeply offended when Prithviraj had eloped with his daughter Samyukta seventeen years earlier. According to some legends he had even invited Muhammad Ghori to invade India to punish Prithviraj. His name soon became a metaphor for treachery. Despite a long period of several hundred years from the first plundering Afghan raids to the time the Mughals settled down, the Rajputs had learned nothing from their setbacks but forgot no insult to their pride. 

Paradoxically, although there was a large religious and cultural chasm between Hindus and Muslims, they were remarkable tolerant about hiring mercenary soldiers of the other faiths. There were many Muslims in all the Hindu armies and vice versa. Maharana Pratap, was one of the few Rajput maharajas to staunchly oppose the Mughals till the end but his army at the battle of Haldighati (1526) had a large contingent of Afghans led by Hakim Khan Sur. At a later time even the great Hindu hero Shivaji had many Muslims in his army while his adversary Aurangzeb’s army was commanded by a number of Rajput generals including Raja Jaswant Singh of Jodhpur and Raja Jai Singh of Amber.