Monday, May 25, 2009
Islamic “culture”
There are two senses in which “culture” is defined: culture as the generalized, more or less coherent sociological habits and values of a people; and culture as the higher artistic and intellectual pursuits of a small subset of any given people.
Often these two are interrelated, and the influence of the latter may be reflected in the popularity of some “high culture” work of art or poetry or literature in the realm of the former.
This seems to be more or less the view of a certain scholar of Islamic history in India concerning one particular “best-seller” of Moghul India in the 16th century (if not also in its ensuing two centuries) when Islam ruled the Subcontinent. The article by this scholar is a brief book review, and so I don’t know what larger sociological assumptions she is making by calling a 14th-century book of poetry, then revived in the 16th century, a “best-seller” nor what evidence she has for making them. Nevertheless, it seems reasonable to trust the judgment of a reputable scholar in this regard, insofar as such a scholar wouldn’t be tossing off such a term lightly.
The scholar is Joanna Lehman who, from a cursory sampling of her academic production, appears to be an unremarkably solid scholar in the field of south Asian culture with apparently an emphasis on Islam in India, and had furthermore collaborated with her husband, Fritz Lehmann, another scholar of the same subject (before his death in 1994).
Prof. Lehmann’s book review concerns a certain “Persian intellectual” of the 14th century named Nakshabi who, she writes, “emigrated to India to escape the Mongol holocaust” (one assumes this refers to non-Muslim Mongols fighting against Muslims).
Nakshabi’s best-known work was based on a Sanskrit legend called the “Shukasaptati” (Seventy Tales of a Parrot) as well as drawing on a panoply of other Hindu and Muslim literature such as the Panchatantra, the Sindhbad-nama, and the Kalila wa Dimna. Nakshabi used an extant Persian translation of the Shukasaptati, the Jawahir al-Asmar of ‘Imad bin Muhammad, “which,” Prof. Lehmann tells us, “he improved by putting into a more elegant style and adding Persian verse, including some qit’a (four-line stanzas) of his own, and quotations from the Quran.”
Prof. Lehmann continues:
Nakshabi’s work enjoyed a great revival of interest during the Mughal period. The emperor Akbar ordered Abu’l Fazl to make an abridgement of it, and another was produced by Muhammad Qadiri.
Now here is the seemingly banal but highly significant observation made by Prof. Lehmann about this popular piece of Islamic literature:
It is interesting to note that while the frame story is taken over intact from the Sanskrit original, the ending and the tone are changed. The young and beautiful wife of a traveling merchant is tempted to take a lover during her husband’s absence, but is distracted by the marvelous stories told by his talking parrot. In the Shukasaptati, the returning husband forgives his wife. In this work, although the parrot boasts to the husband, “I have saved your honey from the molestations of flies,” the husband beheads his wife and becomes a religious recluse—an ending foreshadowed in several of the stories.
Conclusion:
I.e., in the original Hindu version of this popular epic poetry, the theme is one of the husband forgiving his wife even though he suspects that she, in his absence, might have been flirting with another man or even had an affair. In the popular Islamic version, we find a darker more grotesque turn of moral that becomes thematic, where the husband upon his return does not forgive his wife but beheads her—even though the parrot who has been watching her reports to him that she did not succumb to the temptation—and he subsequently becomes even more devoutly Islamic than he was before.
Thus we have a glimpse into the humanity of Hindu culture, and by stark contrast the inhumanity of Islamic culture. This also undermines the typical tendency of the Islam apologist (whether Muslim or PC MC) to exculpate such barbarity on the basis that “well, everybody was that way back in those times”—for here we have the same Hindu literature reflecting a far more humane moral contrasted with the Muslim version of that literature twisted with a grotesque moral, and the Hindu literature is even older than the Muslim version, and centuries older than the Muslim version in its popular revival!
Note:
The citation for the Lehmann review article is:
“The Cleveland Museum of Art’s Tuti-nama: Tales of a Parrot, by Ziya’U’D-Din Nakshabi.” In: The Journal of Asian Studies, Vol. 39, No. 2 (Feb., 1980), pp. 384-385.
Further Reading:
On more of a modern pop culture angle to Islam, see my recently polished up essay from almost three years ago:
Aladdin, Disney, Malaysia, and Islam
Erich
ReplyDeleteA very good article, but a few things worth noting - I dunno whether the things I point out below are errors on Prof Lehmann's part, or yours:
1. Moghul India was not 14th century. The Mughal empire existed for all practical purposes between 1526 to 1761.
2. Hindu literature was normally exclusively Sanskrit, and was more existant in pre-Islamic India, as in the Panchatantra example (the Hindu equivalent to Aesop's Fables) and the Shukasaptati.
Kalila wa Dimna looks more like an Urdu/Farsi work done by Muslims, it's not a Hindu work.
Also, Sindhbad-nama seems to be a Farsi term meaning the story of Sindbad, as in Sindbad the sailor - by no stretch of imagination is this a Hindu work. Also, the voyages of Sindbad is a part of the 1001 nights, and has no sources in Hindu literature. (Also, anybody who has read the Sindbad stories would note his Islamic fanaticism).
One interesting sidenote to your conclusion is that no-one can demonstrate that the Muslim barbarity here was simply the norm of the time - as the stories demonstrate, the Hindu merchant was perfectly happy to take back his wife, while the Mohammedan chose to behead her.
Thanks Nobody,
ReplyDeleteI've straightened or clarified out the problems you called attention to:
1. "Moghul India was not 14th century."
What Lehmann meant, and what I failed to convey, is that while Nakshabi was a 14th-century poet, his "work enjoyed a great revival of interest during the Mughal period". Thus, his poetic work done in the 14th century became a "best seller" in at least the 16th century, if not also following centuries.
2. "Hindu literature was normally exclusively Sanskrit, and was more existant in pre-Islamic India, as in the Panchatantra example (the Hindu equivalent to Aesop's Fables) and the Shukasaptati."
Yes, Nakshabi took Hindu literature, translated it and reworked it.
"Kalila wa Dimna looks more like an Urdu/Farsi work done by Muslims, it's not a Hindu work."
Lehmann doesn't specify as she is listing these various works, so it's probably a good guess.
"Also, Sindhbad-nama seems to be a Farsi term meaning the story of Sindbad, as in Sindbad the sailor - by no stretch of imagination is this a Hindu work."
Actually, I have read some scholars have conjectured that the 1,001 Nights saga has a pre-Islamic provenance -- thus going through the same process as Nakshabi did to the Shukasaptati: i.e., translated, reworked it and recast it with more Islamic themes. These scholars conjecture an original provenance of the 1,001 Nights saga in pre-Islamic Indonesia, moving then to pre-Islamic India, then "Islamicized" during Islamic India and moving to Persia then to Arabia. Nevertheless, this particular "Sindhbad-nama" could well be an Islamic work which Nakshabi used, along with the Hindu works he also used.
"One interesting sidenote to your conclusion is that no-one can demonstrate that the Muslim barbarity here was simply the norm of the time - as the stories demonstrate, the Hindu merchant was perfectly happy to take back his wife, while the Mohammedan chose to behead her."
Exactly.
Nobody, I also integrated your "interesting sidenote" into my Conclusion.
ReplyDeleteErich
ReplyDeleteThanks for posting the clarifications that straightened things out. Incidentally, have you ever read the 'Seven voyages of Sindbad' or any of the Sindbad stories? If so, did you notice the Mohammedan fanatical undertones to some of the voyages?
Erich: This also undermines the typical tendency of the Islam apologist (whether Muslim or PC MC) to exculpate such barbarity on the basis that “well, everybody was that way back in those times”—for here we have the same Hindu literature reflecting a far more humane moral contrasted with the Muslim version of that literature twisted with a grotesque moral, and the Hindu literature is even older than the Muslim version, and centuries older than the Muslim version in its popular revival!
Purrrrfekkkkttttt!!!!
After I posted, I was afraid that the meaning of what I wrote might be lost, but you captured it beautifully!!!
'Everyone was like that in those times' is just another tu quoque/ego quoque argument - which simply goes on to defame good people of the time - both East and West and even Infidels in the Islamic empire - who are not around to defend themselves, and whose descendents are drenched in pcmc.
Nobody, Thanks; I'm glad you liked the revision.
ReplyDeletePre-911 sometime in the late 90s, I read about 3/4 of the 1,001 Nights in the first Western translation ever done, in French by Antoine Galland. Somewhere in the middle of that I read the Sinbad the Sailor part. I don't recall the content specifically. I wasn't all that PC even in the late 90s, and while I was fascinated by "oriental" culture, and had read the fanciful stories about ancient Middle Eastern and Islamic Middle Eastern culture written by the French novelists Flaubert and Gauthier (both had travelled and lived in the Middle East for periods of time), I usually imbibed stuff about Islamic culture with a wry sense of amusement about how serpentinely ornate their manners were juxtaposed with their backwardness.
Some day I should re-read the 1,001 Nights, since now they are a blur in my mind. I don't doubt they are riddled with Islamic fanaticism of one sort or another.