Showing posts with label pallava. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pallava. Show all posts

Sunday, March 31, 2024

A Glimpse of the Criminal Justice System in Hindu Villages of South India through Historical Anecdotes - Sandeep Balakrishna

THROUGHOUT THE CENTURY of the modern Indian Renaissance, it was an article of truth that one could not offer cogent and honest interpretations of the Sanatana civilization unless one imbibed its spiritual core. Writing in 1927, this is what N.N. Law said:

In the case of the ancient Hindus, the value of the spiritual side of their civilization is very difficult to be realized by a man of the twentieth century because of the frame of mind that is generally developed in him under the influence of the current thoughts and environment. But it was this spiritual culture which was indissolubly bound up with every phase of the ancient Hindu civilization, and influenced and determined…their manners, customs, and institutions, through which their thoughts and feelings found expressions.


Nowhere is this truer than in the political systems, institutions, traditions and practices that Hindus founded and nurtured throughout the ages. More than merely bookish codification, this political system operated via customs, which in turn acquired great authority because they were actually values lived by real people and were generationally transmitted. We cited one such glorious example in our essay on the ancient, Yogic village of Sorade.

Thus, when we remove this spiritual element from our politics and statecraft, we get the crude type of competitive politics that we observe in Western democracies. It is unfortunate that we blindly adopted the same system without first conducting a philosophical debate as to its feasibility for a spiritual civilization like India, which had just emerged from a millennium of oppression. The Western model of democracy is essentially competition and competition divides, and there is no telling when competition culminates in bloodletting. However, the Sanatana theory and practice of statecraft whose roots are moored in Vedanta, recognizes what is known as tara-tama bhava, or the hierarchy inherent in nature. In its political expression, this was transformed as a continuous attempt at harmonizing the various elements of this hierarchy after giving due recognition to the value of each element. This is how social and other conflicts were minimized and a mechanism for self-rectification was built into our civilisation and culture. The inseparable companion of self-correction is self-renewal: the lake renews itself when the silt at its bottom is cleared out. This is the Sanatana method.

The other facet of harmonizing the aforementioned hierarchical elements shows itself in the near-ideal decentralization of the administration, in its widest possible meaning. For several millennia, Bharatavarsha had almost perfected the system of what is today fashionably known as “last mile delivery of governance,” i.e., the village. It is not a coincidence that the luminaries of the modern Indian Renaissance and Mohandas Gandhi repeatedly stressed on the fact that the “real India lives in her villages.”

Successive monarchs throughout our history recognized and respected village autonomy and rarely extended their imperial hand upon it. Quite the contrary. They actually made it a point to honour the village, its headman and its councils. The Gupta, Pallava, Chola, Chalukya, Rashtrakuta, Hoysala, and Vijayangara monarchs made liberal gifts to villages and endowed their temples with various sevas. The reason was rather straightforward: the villages were self-governing in every sense. They knew their place in the hierarchy of the Empire and were endowed as self-restraint. They did not impinge on the affairs of other villages and vice versa. They were the preservers of their own unbroken traditions, which in turn, was a subset of the umbrella of Sanatana Dharma, which they obeyed unquestioned. The king or central government also knew his place in this umbrella: it was impossible for one person to adjudicate on matters purely local or unique to each village or locality. Our greater admiration for this system is the fact that the king had the humility to understand this limitation and conducted himself accordingly. Thus, when we today notice supreme court judges making authoritative pronouncements on every Hindu cultural tradition and even upon our sacred Devatas based on a superficial understanding, it is clear that our democracy seems to be premised on an inversion of Dharma.

The village was an independent republic in a manner of speaking. It had its own administrative machinery, revenue-collection mechanism, police, and above all, the timely delivery of justice. In this essay, we shall look at some glimpses of how justice, especially criminal justice was delivered in the villages of South India. These are derived from epigraphic records spread over seven centuries: from the 11th century to the 18th century, cantered mainly around Tamil Nadu and Kerala.

What Real History Tells us

We first provide some real-life incidents of crime followed by the verdict of the respective village council. All the incidents occurred in various villages in the South Arcot district between the 11th and 12th centuries.

1. Two men had gone out for hunting in the forest. One of them, endowed with poor marksmanship, mistakenly shot his companion with the arrow which he had aimed at a deer. A case was lodged. The verdict: the crime was unpremeditated, and the shooter was required to give a gift of 64 cows to the Tiruttandonri Aludiyar Temple for burning a lamp to the deity.

2. In a friendly swordfight in which the practitioners tested their skills, a thrust by the sword unfortunately killed one of the participants. The verdict: the offender had to provide 32 cows for the burning of a lamp in the Tirunageshwaram-Udaiyar Temple.

3. A drunk husband, in a fit of anger, pushed his wife down and the poor woman died. The verdict: the guilty man had to work free of cost at the local temple for a specified period. At the end of each day, he had to light a lamp at the same Tiruttandonri Aludiyar Temple and recite stotrams praying for the peace of his wife’s Atman.

4. An ill-tempered mother once flung a stick at her daughter. However, the stick missed its target and instead hit another child who was standing nearby. Twenty days later, the child died as a result of the injury. The verdict: the husband of the woman had to present 32 cows to the Urbagangondarulina-Nayanar Temple for the merit of the deceased child.

All the four instances are clear demonstrations of what is known as prayaschitta or expiation or atonement, one of the main pillars of the Hindu justice system. It is equally clear that this was not just any form of prayaschitta but a specific one involving donation and service to the temple. The annals of Sanatana literature—both sacred and worldly—are replete with hundreds of stories and real-life examples of the value of prayaschitta as a form of punishment, a guiding ideal of life, and as a soul-purifying agent. In these four instances, it is significant that prayaschitta was recommended because of the purely accidental nature of the offence. Even more significant is the fact that these judgements were engraved on the walls of the respective temples.

On the purely mundane plane of life, the donations to these temples also helped to keep the economic engine of the villages well-oiled.

We can also cite some more examples of a similar nature.

1. A merchant had a concubine whom another man attempted to outrage. The merchant stabbed the latter and killed him. The verdict: strictly speaking, this was not a crime in those days. However, it was also held that the act of murder should not go unpunished. And so, after the village council consulted with the dead man’s relatives, the merchant was ordered to offer a perpetual lamp to the Tanronri-Alvar Temple in the name of the deceased. Period: 1012 CE, Tamil Nadu.

2. A village official demanded heavy taxes from a woman and repeatedly harassed her. The unfortunate woman took poison and died. The over-zealous tax-collector was found guilty and excommunicated from the village. He was also ordered by the village assembly to expiate his sin by paying 32 Kasu (money, cash or coins) to the Tiruttandonri-Mahadeva Temple and lighting a perpetual lamp. Period: 1054 CE, Tamil Nadu.

3. A poor man named Chedirayan was responsible for the death of a fellow villager by some indiscreet act of his. The verdict: the murderer’s uncle was ordered to give a gift of lands to the temple to atone for his nephew’s crime. Period: 1170 CE, Kerala.

4. Two men severely beat a man who had allowed his buffalo to trespass into their field. The buffalo had caused substantial damage to the crops. Unfortunately, the victim died. The verdict: the Bhattas of the village ordered the offenders to provide for a lamp in the temple. Period: 1190 CE, Kerala.

Punishing Royal Offenders

Apart from the common citizenry, royalty was also unexempt from punishments ranging from the mild to the harsh. We can cite a few instances of this from the Travancore kingdom.

First, we have an interesting inscription from Kollam dated 1702 CE. It narrates how a high-ranking temple official assaulted some of his juniors. As punishment, he was suspended and ordered to pay a huge fine to the temple treasury.

Now we can see some instances of royalty being punished.

1. The Chera king Kulashekhara-Chakravartin (1102 CE) was once summoned to trial by the town council, which met in Panaingavu Palace at Kollam. He had been found guilty of killing some Ariyars (Brahmanas) who were functioning as Archakas in the Rameshwara Temple. The verdict: the king had to make a substantial land grant to the temple and had to undergo some prescribed penance for atonement.

2. In 1344 CE, Vira Keralavarman of Tiruvadi was found guilty of murdering some Brahmanas and other temple officials. The verdict: he was ordered to pay land compensation to the survivors. He also had to make substantial donations to the temple.

3. In 1382 CE, Vira Martandavarman atoned for certain atrocities he had committed against various people, by giving the gift of silver pots and fines to the temple.

4. In 1416 CE, Vira Ravivarman paid a huge penalty for having killed some men in a petty scuffle. The survivors were suitably compensated.

The epigraphic records that narrate these incidents say that these penalties were called garvakkattu or amercement for high-handed conduct. The delinquent kings were forced to pay them in order to pacify popular anger and to bring the offender to justice no matter how powerful he or she was. The penalty and punishments were awarded by the local assemblies which wielded enormous power in those days. Clearly, it is noteworthy that the kings allowed themselves to be fined. But then, they were merely adhering to the timeless Sanatana dictum that the power of the king is derived by the popular consent of the people. This is the exact opposite of that criminal generalization peddled by our “history” books about Hindu kings as being uniformly despotic. Indeed, as DVG correctly observes: “wherever there was a Hindu sovereign, there was no tyranny.”

Hindu kings subjecting themselves to trial and punishment also finds several echoes in Sanatana jurisprudence. It may be summarized as follows: the ruler, who is a servant of the people and receives his revenue of rakshabhaga, or remuneration for his services, is thus logically liable to pay fines for wrongdoing.

In a majority of cases, justice and punishment depended on Deshachara (customs specific to a region) and Kulachara (customs specific to clans, etc). Thus, some village assemblies or councils or other local bodies which wielded judicial powers within their own jurisdictions, did not award punishments commensurate with the degree and circumstances of the crimes which they adjudicated. It could be argued today that the clemency they showed towards the murderer was quite unjustified. It also appears that they only provided for the spiritual welfare of the soul of the murdered individuals by ruling that the culprits shall offer lamps, donate cows, and similar Dharmic actions.

One reason for this could be a conscious and time-honoured custom of trying to reduce the tendencies of extreme vengeance on the part of the victim’s survivors. Simultaneously, it was also meant to induce the feeling of remorse within the perpetrator by putting him in front of the Devatas, the real judges. The idea of all Hindu lawgivers was to mitigate ill-will within the society as far as possible through a determined pursuit of the spiritual. Conscious forgiveness on the part of the survivor and conscious expiation on the part of the perpetrator are two sides of the same coin.

In a paper written in 1925, the Trivandrum-based academic, Dr. Ramanatha Ayyar puts this beautifully:

This humane legislation compares very favourably with the barbaric severity of the penal laws of the so-called ‘enlightened’ nations of the West, which till the last century punished such trivial offences as the breaking of a window and stealing of two pence worth of paint, with death.

There is much food for thought when we think about it in a different light: violent prosecution of a criminal as opposed to ordering the criminal to light lamps in a temple daily without fail. Hopeful reform and self-purification.

Our ancients chose wisely.

Courtesy: https://www.dharmadispatch.in/culture/a-glimpse-of-the-criminal-justice-system-in-hindu-villages-of-south-india-through-historical-anecdotes

C

Sunday, July 30, 2023

KAUTILYA'S RAJADHARMA CULMINATES IN RASHTRADHARMA by SANDEEP BALAKRISHNA (Dharma Dispatch)

All-Encompassing

An unfortunate phenomenon that has crept into and accelerated over the years in public discourse especially after “independence,” is the exclusive emphasis on specialization. When we study the Sanatana tradition and practice of statecraft, it becomes clear that our ancients had an all-encompassing view of the world. This among others, is one of the roots of the evolution of the profound concept of Rta or the invisible Cosmic Order. Its offshoots in practical life include Dharma, Satya, Yajna, Dana and Tapas. This is the innate reason the term “Dharma” has been used as a suffix to almost every conceivable area of human activity: profession, education, marriage, social relationships, and statecraft.

There is an ocean of difference between “politics” and Rajadharma. Bharatavarsha is the only civilization that has evolved a lovely seamlessness between Rajadharma and Rashtradharma: when Rajadharma is fulfilled in a profound manner, it automatically culminates in and upholds Rashtradharma.

This is also one of the immortal messages of Kautilya.

When we talk about a country’s politics, it includes virtually all domains: wars, empires, military, economics, administration, religion, society, customs, culture and traditions.

With this backgrounder, we’ll try and explore Kautilya’s direct and indirect impact on most of these areas throughout Bharatavarsha’s long civilisational history.

The Arthasastra in Action

To begin with, let’s look at these famous verses from the Arthasastra:

आन्वीक्षिकी à¤¤्रयी à¤µारतनां à¤¯ोगक्षेमसधनो à¤¦à¤£्डः |

तस्य à¤¨ितिर्दण्डनीतिः ||

अलब्ध à¤²ाभार्था à¤²à¤¬्ध à¤ªà¤°िरक्षणी |

रक्षितविवर्धिनी à¤µृद्धस्य à¤¤ीर्येषु à¤ª्रतिपदानि à¤š ||

Which means, “Danda (punishment or the scepter of the ruler) is the means of the stability and welfare of Anvikshiki, Trayi and Vaarta. The rules that deal with Danda are called Dandaniti. Dandaniti is the means for acquiring that which is not acquired; it safeguards what has been acquired; it increases what is being safeguarded and it distributes this ever-increasing wealth and prosperity among the deserving.”

From one perspective, Kautilya’s enduring impact on India’s civilisational and political history is basically a real-life, practical exposition of these two verses. And this impact begins right from the dynasty he inspired and founded: the Mauryan dynasty. In fact, the Mauryan dynasty was Arthasastra in action.

The political history of Bharatavarsha’s civilization history is the history of its great empires including but not limited to the following:

1. Mauryan

2. Satavahana

3. Sunga

4. Gupta

5. Chalukya – Pallava

6. Chola

7. Rashtrakuta

8. Gurjara-Pratihara

9. Pala

10. Hoysala

11. Vijayanagara

12. Maratha

13. Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s magnificent Sikh Empire

Now we can explore Kautilya’s influence on India’s history based on this classification.

Emphasis on Dharma

While the Arthasastra places the greatest emphasis on Dharma, on the practical side of things, it is inherently imbued with the realization of the practical side of Dharma—that Dharma cannot be sustained by sweet-talk or Gandhian appeals to the “goodness of the heart” and phony universal brotherhood.

Thus, on the practical side, the Arthasastra it is mainly concerned with everyday realities like central and local administration, taxation, police, diplomacy, security, wars, army, bureaucracy and justice. Taken together, the Dharma aspect in all these realms reflects in its practical application as we shall see. In passing, this focus on practical realities is most visible while deciding on justice. Thus, Kautilya clearly says that if there is a conflict between Arthasastra and Dharmasastra, Dharmasastra should always prevail.

Another area in which this pragmatism is visible might sound harsh today. Chanakya advocates the use of temple funds in order to fill the empty treasury of the kingdom. In fact, we notice almost a photocopy of this practice in the Vijayangara Empire in which all the temples were directly under State control. Its funds closely scrutinized, accounted for, and were used for welfare activities, commerce, and in some cases, to fund war.

Deciding Royal Succession

First, we can trace the direct and indirect impact of Kautilya on Indian history in his rules for royal or political succession. Here, we see his imprint in almost all of our great Hindu dynasties.

We have the case of the celebrated Samudragupta. The younger son of Chandragupta I, the father spotted his talent, competence, valour and acumen at an early age and nominated him as the successor, setting aside his eldest son. The fact that his succession caused no royal split or war is remarkable.

Next, we have Harihara I, the founding monarch of the Vijayanagara Empire who nominated his younger brother Bukkaraya, instead of his eldest son.

Even as recent as the 17th century, the Tanjavur Nayaka, Venkata II nominated his nephew Chikka Raya as the king, choosing him over his incompetent sons.

There’s another facet of this Kautilyan precept: we have the great example of the young boy Sri Harsha who was elected as King after his brother Rajyavardhana was murdered. Likewise, after Pallava Parameshwaravarman was killed in battle, the new king Nandivarman II was elected. Finally, we have the brilliant example of the bloodless transfer of power from the Hoysalas to the sons of Sangama who founded the Vijayangara Empire.

The oceanic contrast between this noble—even virtuous—tradition of deciding political succession in Hindu Empires becomes immediately evident when we notice the fact that royal succession in Muslim dynasties was synonymous with patricide and fratricide.

Literature

To a smaller extent, literature is another area where notice Kautilya’s influence. Chapter 8 of Dandin’s great work, Dashakumara-carita shows how solidly he had grasped the Arthasastra. Scholar-poets like Dandin were also advisers and counsels to the king.

Then we have Vishakhadatta’s Mudrarakshasa, a play whose subject is Chanakya himself.

This is the other vehicle through which Kautilya’s legacy was transmitted throughout Bharatavarsha.

Tragically, the new breed of scholars, writers and poets that had emerged after the Gupta Empire had imploded, began to condemn the Arthasastra as a “wicked book.” Thus, as early as the seventh century CE, this is what the celebrated Sanskrit Kavi Banabhatta says:

Is there anything that is righteous for those for whom the science of Kautilya is an authority? It is merciless in its precepts, rich in cruelty. Its teachers are habitually hard-hearted with the practice of witchcraft. Its ministers are always inclined to deceive others. They are the counsels of the king. Their constant desire is always for the Goddess of Wealth [Lakshmi] that has been cast away by thousands of kings.

Evidently, this was a subconscious manifestation of the debilitating and long-term influence of Buddhism that had corroded the psyche of both Buddhist and Hindu kings of Bharatavarsha. In a classic case of misapplication, here, Bana confounds the virtue of renouncing wealth: that which is a virtue in the ordinary individual becomes fatal when the king embraces it.

And so, by the 12th or 13th century, when most of north and all of northwestern India had lost its freedom, we still notice many replicas of Banabhatta who actively dissuaded people from reading the Arthasastra. Needless, this faint-hearted phenomenon was a great mirror to the early stages of Sanatana Bharata’s downfall.

  

Courtesy: https://www.dharmadispatch.in/history/kautilyas-rajadharma-culminates-in-rashtradharma#:~:text=Bharatavarsha%20is%20the%20only%20civilization,the%20immortal%20messages%20of%20Kautilya.