Two acts in the last few weeks, both by swamis, have set people thinking. One is seen as progressive and the other is attracting cynicism. Veerabhadra Chennamalla Swamiji, the pontiff of the Nidumamidi math in Kolar, subjected himself to introspection over the months of July and August, and concluded with an indictment of the practice—and avowal, often suspect—of celibacy by swamis. He also criticised the luxurious lifestyles swamis have come to be associated with. These pronouncements have stirred debate and won Chennamalla swami praise.
The other initiative, if one may call it that, was by Basavananda Maadara Chennaiah Swamiji of Chitradurga, who is of Dalit origin. In mid-September, he undertook a ‘harmony walk’ through a conservative Brahmin neighbourhood of Mysore. What was surprising is that people there washed his feet and even allowed him to perform puja at their homes. Commendable, but the swami’s connections with the Sangh parivar—a few steps removed though they may be—have cast the shadow of politics over the padayatra and raised questions about the motives involved.
Maadara swami undertook the walk at the instance of Vishvesha Theertha Swamiji, the Brahmin pontiff of the Udupi Pejawar math, a leading light of the VHP and the Ayodhya movement. The Pejawar swami wanted the padayatra as part of his drive to prevent Dalits from converting to Christianity. He had visited Dalit colonies himself, and says: “The Dalit community is growing weaker as a result of conversions and Hinduism is being destroyed. In order to save our culture, I have decided to bring about equality among Hindus.”
Whatever the motives, and orchestrated though the event might have been, the washing of the feet of a ‘Dalit’ swami by Brahmins is not without significance. Maadara swami is elated with the reception he got, especially the feet-washing. “That was a revolutionary day,” he says. “The same people who hounded out Basavanna (the 12th century poet-saint) and treated Babasaheb Ambedkar and Babu Jagjivan Ram with contempt have felicitated me. Things are changing.”
Not everyone is impressed. C.S. Dwarakanath, a senior advocate and former chairman of the Karnataka Backward Classes Commission, calls the whole exercise “an rss conspiracy”. “The brain of the Pejawar swami,” he says, “is more dangerous than an AK-47. A man who kept quiet for decades when atrocities were being committed against Dalits has now come up suddenly with this dubious experiment.”
The observations of the swami from Kolar, have, however, resonated well, not only within the Veerashaiva Lingayat community, of which he is a luminary, but also in the Hindu community as a whole, rife as it is with godmen of curious persuasions. Here are the salient points the swami made while addressing a gathering in Davangere and has since elaborated on in later talks:
- Even those who meditate in the Himalayas have been unable to achieve and maintain complete celibacy. They have been riddled with doubts and have sometimes strayed. When that is the case, how can our swamis—living as they do in luxury, in ashrams resembling palaces—possibly succeed? The sattvic environment necessary for the discipline of celibacy, he says, isn’t to be found anywhere these days—not even in his own Nidumamidi math.
- Ordaining children as saints is as cruel as child marriage.
- Many religious leaders have worked to educate the oppressed and backward classes, before and after independence. But of late many religious leaders have become greedy, especially after they got into the business of setting up professional colleges.
- If swamis lead principled, spartan lives, their followers will do so too.
The swami says there was no provocation for his statements; they were the result of his reflections. “I was attacked for what I said by vested interests,” he says. “But my statements aren’t empty words. I speak with utmost pain, concern, anxiety.” The religious-minded, it might be supposed, share that despair.
