Spiritual leaders in political mix risky
Uttar Pradesh chief minister Yogi Adityanath's 'jhatka' approach to illegal slaughterhouses has annoyed kababis, just as Bihar chief minister Nitish Kumar's prohibition annoyed sharabis. The former has provoked far more mutton-headed outrage than the latter, which leads to the conclusion that the meat of the matter is something else, namely, the vexed question of whether a priest can be a king.
The long-overdue crackdown on illegal slaughterhouses is welcome for reasons of public health, environment and ethics. Allowing unlicensed butcher khanas to operate merely to meet the meat shortage is not a reasonable contention, as that would set an untenable precedent for all manner of illegalities. Yet, the move has attracted more censure than the patently unreasonable Maharashtra Animal Preservation (Amendment) Act, which banned cow slaughter and possession of beef. Mercifully, the Bombay High Court struck down draconian sections of the Act relating to possession of beef, thereby allowing aficionados to import their Kobe and eat it too.
When Sadhvi Uma Bharti took oath as chief minister of Madhya Pradesh in 2003, on a dais groaning under the weight of two-score saffronclad Hindu saints, she did not attract the kind of condemnation that Yogi Adityanath suffers. This, despite the fact that she was the most polarising figure of her day, given her perceived role in events leading up to the demolition of the Babri Masjid.
So what is the big beef with Yogi Adityanath, India's very own Prester John (the legendary Christian priest-king who is said to have presided over a prosperous kingdom somewhere in Asia or Africa)? If it’s not having illegal slaughterhouses guillotined or non-vegetarians being forced to subsist on ghas-phoos, or the sheer shock and awe of his appointment, perhaps it is the fact that he is mahant or head priest of the Gorakhnath Math, which has a large footprint in eastern UP.
He is not a freelance or modern guru, but the spiritual and temporal head of an established religious organisation with a long tradition behind it. In effect, he is a priest-king (the famous sculpture of a bearded man from Mohenjodaro, weirdly resembling Prime Minister Modi, is referred to as the priest-king). Although Indian tradition does not have the equivalent of a Dalai Lama, or an Ayatollah Khomeini, spiritual leaders/gurus were not confined to temples, monasteries or universities and played an active role in public life and secular matters. Chanakya is a case in point. In the Mahabharata, Guru Dronacharya had no hesitation in taking up arms during the epic battle of Kurukshetra. The role of the guru, however, was largely that of teacher, advisor, confidante, gatekeeper and moral preceptor.
A few years ago, Baba Ramdev’s public activism against black money and corruption found widespread support. But when he floated his own political outfit and declared his intention of fighting elections, he was advised against doing so, on the grounds that while Indian society accepts spiritual leaders as “rajgurus” or advisers to the king, it does not accept them as rulers. The Baba gracefully withdrew and threw his weight behind the BJP instead.
The growing acceptability of religious leaders in electoral politics may be a consequence of the prevailing distrust of politicians. Voters may perceive a guru as being less susceptible to corruption and more capable of running an institution impartially and with the same commitment to duty that they preach to their followers.
The Constitution allows all adult citizens to stand for elections, regardless of the colour of their robes. Sadhvis and swamis have thus been elected to Parliament and have become ministers and chief ministers (the half-serious suggestion that an eminent spiritual leader be made President of India is doing the rounds on social media). The question of whether they can represent all their constituents equally, including those of different religious denominations, is like asking whether a Communist MP can represent voters who subscribe to capitalism.
The fact is that there is no standard code of conduct for spiritual leaders. Baba Ramdev does not find being a corporate czar incompatible with his role as yoga guru. Mata Amritanandmayi refused the Padma Bhushan, but Sadhguru Jaggi Vasudev and Sri Sri Ravi Shankar accepted it (although he had declined it earlier) and Baba Ramdev declared it went against his principles as an ascetic even before the award could be offered to him.
Adding spiritual leaders to the political mix is unlikely to undermine the Constitution of India. But it’s a risky business, because if they fail, they could well undermine faith in spiritualism!
THE growing acceptability of religious leaders in electoral politics may be a consequence of the prevailing distrust of politicians. Voters may perceive a guru as being less susceptible to corruption and more capable of running an institution impartially and with the same commitment to duty that they preach to their followers.